#the light is pretty here though ✨️

[whoistartaglia]

Stawwwwp your stuff is so cute!!💖💖💖

If requests are open, may I ask for playing with Wanderer, Tighnari, and Kaeya's hair?

Thank you! And I hope you have a great rest of your day/night ✨️

very thankful for this request💪 i’ve been thinking about this idea for a while now

playing with his hair

wanderer

wanderer usually likes it when it’s him playing with your hair, but tonight you wanted to switch it up a bit. when you’re cuddling together and your hands start to thread into his hair, wanderer point blank turns to you and asks in an almost offended tone, “what are you doing?”

“playing with your hair,” you respond, gently tugging on another lock. you pause and look into his eyes. “is that okay?”

when wanderer doesn’t respond, you let his hair slip through your fingers.

“i’ll stop,” you whisper.

“no, it’s…” wanderer searches for the right word.

you wait patiently in silence. wanderer thinks you look like a confused puppy with your head tilted to the side. your eyes certainly remind him of one, always filled with adoration. for him. sometimes, he still can’t believe it.

“nice,” he finishes at last, sounding like it’s the first time he’s ever said the word. wanderer settles back down so you don’t have to see his face—though, that doesn’t hide the redness in his ears. he clears his throat. “you can keep going.”

his voice is ridiculously soft, but when you let out a teasing, “are you sure?” it turns back to rought concrete.

“yes,” tight, unyielding. you can picture him rolling his eyes. “i’m sure.”

you laugh and once again start running your fingers through his hair. he eventually falls asleep, and if you manage fight through your own dropping eyelids, you’ll hear him murmur your name, said like a scared prayer to a benevolent god.

tighnari

oh, when you start playing with tighnari’s hair, the man turns to puddy in your hand. nevermind the teasing attitude or sarcastic indifference he gives you during the day. at night, when you’re massaging his head with small, light circles, tighnari’s edges smooth out. not that they were never too rigid to begin with—at least, not with you—but the tension in his face will evaporate and he’ll have this content, peaceful smile on his face that lingers even into sleep.

and if you start playing his ears? first, consider yourself lucky that you’re allowed such a privilege; second, he might literally melt like ice under the desert sun; third, should you call him out on such softness, he will absolutely deny it.

“blushing?” he muses. he blinks open his eyes, and you feel bad you woke him from sleep. your guilt vanishes when he states: “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“oh?” you bring the back of your hand to his cheek. “i don’t know. seems pretty warm to me…”

he brushes off your hand with a small protest in the back of his throat.

“it’s warm because it’s hot here. that’s all.”

“oh, yes. i’m freezing.”

“[name],” tighnari sighs.

“tighnari,” you respond. he looks up at you with a pout—a pout, for archon’s sake—and you can’t help but laugh. “okay, okay. i’ll let it go.”

tighnari relaxes back down. you start running a light finger over the back of his ears, and tighnari sighs again, content. quietly, you lean down and whisper, barely able to keep the amusement from your voice: “but you totally are blushing.”

kaeya

kaeya loves it when you braid his hair. he just thinks your fingers are so gentle when you’re tugging and pulling at his hair in forming the braid. honestly, he’ll let you do anything you want to his hair, aside from cutting it all off. (even then, he might at least consider it, though he’d never let you go through with it).

you’ll be braiding his hair one night, same routine as ever, when you realize something. you tug on a strand and it doesn’t come free; neither does the adjcent strand next to it.

your fingers still, and your heart drops to the bottom of the ocean. in trying a new type of braid, you’ve created a knot in kaeya’s hair.

“well?” kaeya asks some time after you stopped. “did you finish?”

he goes to run a hand over the braid and you stop him, quickly lacing it with yours. now kaeya does turn, an eyebrow raised, a pointed glance at your entwined hands.

“not that this isn’t lovely,” he starts, squeezing your hand lightly, “but i do feel like there’s another motive at play here.”

“not at all,” you say, averting your gaze.

kaeya makes to touch his hair with his other hand, to which you also grab and hold in your own.

“okay, [name], sweetling, now i’m a concerned. please tell me you didn’t rip off a chunk of my hair.”

“you would’ve felt it,” you grumble. but then you sigh and shyly tell him, “…but i might have made a knot.”

kaeya studies your face, and after a second, he surprises you by placing a peck on your lips.

“what was that for?” you ask, embarassed.

“because you look so worried,” kaeya responds with a sigh. he worries for you sometimes, he really does. “don’t worry. it can’t be that bad. though,” he glanced at your hands again, still entwined, “i’d find some comfort in finding out for myself.”

you reluctantly release one hand. kaeya touches the knot and reassures you once again it’s really nothing. you both work to get it out before you’re back to braiding it again. though, it’s kind of difficult now.

kaeya still won’t let your other hand go.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer headcanons #the wanderer x reader #genshin impact scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact tighnari #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #tighnari headcanons #kaeya headcanons

[readychilledwine]

Predator Prey

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

If you are into scratching, biting, grunting, and growling, you may have a Primal Play kink.

Primal play, also known as Predator/prey, is a dynamic between a sub and dom that typically involves the dom hunting down the sub before intercourse. A lot of people mix this with pet/animal play, but they are different. Pet/animal play involves at least one party dehumanizing themselves and taking the role of an animal. Primal play does not involve that.

Primal play finds its roots before we began civilized, and before sex began being seen as a sin as pushed by religion and church. Primal play is a way to revert back to that animalistic instinct of survival by letting us play with our basic needs, aka: breeding, food, and self-protection.

Predator prey is known for being a rougher form of play as well, the sex is a little more demanding, its rough, and it typically can cause the dom to leave a little more satisfied than the sub, especially when following traditional instinct and roles (sorry ladies.) It is an important for this play type to really focus on prediscussed consent and safe word communication.

Primal play also typically involves a struggle between the parties for dominance, something this fic does skip over because while I see Eris enjoying the hunt, I can't see him enjoying his mate struggling below him, even if it is consensual, due to his family history. I apologize. I skipped that aspect, but you all may have noticed the absolute Crackship I have another predator prey set up for. That couples going to go down swinging no matter how I write that dynamic.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Warnings - chasing, rough smut no traditional foreplay, p in v, slight hints of dirty talk, biting.

You shouldn't have been in the woods this late. You knew it was dangerous and that the trees themselves were awake and alerting any waiting predators that an unarmed female was walking alone through them.

After hours of dealing with your father in law, you had just wanted a few moments alone and made the choice to walk to the cabin you shared with Eris instead of winnowing.

That had been a mistake. Despite being in a seasonal court, day and night still shifted with the rest of the world, and golden rays of light gave in to star patterned darkness much too fast for comfort. You huddled your hood tighter, ignoring the bite of the autumn chill, and kept walking.

“Well, well, well,” the snap of a branch made you jump, heart beating faster as you froze. “What do we have here? A pretty mouse all by herself?”

You spun quickly, eyes wide as your husband approached with 3 hounds flanking him and growling. “Eris-” he shot you a look, silencing you.

“What you're going to do, little mouse, is run. You are going to turn and run and hope I don't catch you.” He took a step toward you, one you mirrored by stepping back. “Because if I catch you, I fuck you, and that would be mercy compared to what lurks in these woods just begging to get their teeth into you.”

He took another step, a bigger one causing you to stare straight at his chest until you looked up. He kissed you gently, the only gentle thing you knew you would get tonight before sliding one of his hounds training toys into the pocket of your cloak. “Run.”

You knew from the moment you accepted the bond, Eris was a bit of a sadist. But you also knew the first time that curtain dropped and your husband chained you to a wall, spanking you until your legs gave out, that you were a masochist. His mistake was calling you a mouse, though. You knew Eris had no understanding of how intelligent mice were. Mice were natural students, learning and adapting to their environment and tricks.

And you? You had learned.

You ran finding a large tree to abandon the cloak on before winnowing about 15 feet away, taking the training toy with you. You watched as Orion, Astrid, and Nova sat at the tree, looking up at Eris, then back to the cloak. Orion whined loudly, nudging the fabric as Eris growled.

Those hounds would never hurt you. Those hounds were chasing you for fun. And you had spoiled it. You cracked a branch on purpose, smiling and laughing as Nova perked back up, then began running towards where you had taken off from.

“Cheap tricks won't help you, mouse!” The dark laughter in his voice has your core tightening. You ran faster, heading near the direction of the cabin enough that he wouldn't think anything of it.

You were actually aiming for the lake nearby, though. Wanting him to fuck you under the full moon and all of her stars. Wanting to feel him pressing you into the dirt.

Eris caught your right as you reached it, a soft laugh as he did, and he took you rolling into the dirt and grass. Settling on top of you, Eris smirked. “This isn't home, mouse.”

You tossed the toy, listening as the hound Cheerfully began playing. Submission was setting in, creeping through your bones like an old ache. “No, sir.”

His warm hand came, holding your throat. “If you wanted to be fucked like an animal, y/n, you just had to ask.” You moaned at the words, at him seeing through you. He got up, forcing you on to your stomach, and began ripping the dress you were wearing. He placed a hand back on your neck, holding you down and leaning into you, whispering in your ear. “Do animals get prepared, mouse? Remind me.”

“No, sir,” it came out as more of a whimper than a sentence, a moan leaving your throat soon after. Eris wad grinding himself against you, cock straining heavily in his pants.

Eris was inside of you mere moments later, heavy cock stretching you open with a delicious burn. He was growling above you, rutting into you over and over while you wiggled and whimpered below him.

Nights like this, nights where sex was a mesh of teeth, of bruises, of thrusts so deep you could feel every inch of him lighting you on fire, normally meant Eris had a long day, a day where he felt no control, no joy. A day where he felt belittled.

Sex like this wasn't about you, and if you came, it was a reward. Sex like this was about Eris. You knew when he calmed down after this, when he would eventually carry you to the cabin, he'd take his time making love to you there until you were no more than a soaked mess below him, body pliant and spent from countless orgasms.

You whimpered as the thrusts grew harder, pushing you into the grass as your nails dug into the soft earth. Eris's growls were becoming louder, an occasional groan thrown in as he took you wildly with no regard for your body.

You were dripping for him, panting his name between wails of pleasure and soft cries of need. You loved sex like this, loved when he held you down, when he allowed you to make him work for it. To make him hunt you down.

You felt the first twitch of his cock, clenching around him in response and smiled into the ground. “All mine,” he grunted above you. “You are all mine, do you hear me?” His mouth came to your neck, licking and sucking your pulse point.

“Gonna fuck you until you don't even know your own name.” It was a promise, a zap engraving itself on your skin as he held your hand. He chuckled darkly again, your mind melting into those soft kisses contrasting against each sharp movement inside of you.

His breathing was becoming as labored as your own, his groans becoming more and more frenzied and desperate. “Cum inside me, Eris. Mark me as yours,” his grip on your hip became impossibly tight.

One more thrust had your walls tightening around him.

Another had you screaming his name as teeth sunk into your pulse point, bruising and marking that tender flesh.

The last had you babbling, moaning, and whining as you were violently thrown from the edge, squeezing and clenching around him over, over, and over again until he was spilling into you, filling you as he groaned and lapped away the blood he drew.

You both calmed, you still wiggling below him as a few last sloppy rolls of his hips worked to drive you into over stimulation.

Eris peppered soft kisses along your jawline, up to your temple, into your hair. “You okay?”

“Again.” He smiled into you, leaning to kiss you deeply.

“When we get home, after you eat and bathe, I will make all your sick dreams come true, mouse. I promise."

General Taglist -

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist -

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris smut #eris acotar #eris acosf #eris fic #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra acotar

[justgrey]

Hello! I’d like to request the mercenaries with a fem mercenary reader who is a shapeshifter and has a pretty chaotic personality? Basically Nimona from the movie Nimona lol

Watched the movie finally, and now I'm gay for ballister. Thanks for that xoxo. be on the lookout for something on him because i want to chew him and hit him like a tennis ball

Also, it's safe to say I got a little stupid with this one 💀

Mercs with a chaotic! reader

Warnings : swearing, light mentions of gore, talk of body parts, medic.

CHAOS CHAOS CHAOS *jevil laughter*

Probably get along really well with Pyro and Scout not gonna lie because Pyro likes to burn shit (Even though I'm pretty sure they think they're spreading joy and colour) and Scout is pretty hyper in general, willing to go along with anything as long as it's fun.

*burns down barn*

"huddah huh huu hud."

"Yeah, loving the colour too, pally. Really makes the wood boom." *evil chuckles*

As soon as Pyro learns about your shapeshifting ability, they're all over you. They want you to play 3 different characters at their tea parties simultaneously and transform into a unicorn so that they can ride you into battle and fulfill their wildest dreams

"Hud hudda hu hubuh huuuuh HUDDAH!!"

"Okay, okay, fine!" *transforms into a unicorn* "Get on."

*excited hu noises*

"HUDDAHHHH!!"

Besties 💗🌈🔥✨️

Some of the older and quieter mercenaries are NOT gonna be having a field day with you and your silly little personality.

Sniper hates it THE MOST. He doesn't like people that much in general and can barely keep up with the hyperactive chaos that is you, so he mainly sticks to watching you burn shit down from afar.

"Did'ya really have ta' do that much?"

"Yeah. Why, you not liking it, pissboy?"

"..."

"That's what I thought. Don't be a hero, buddy."

Although he doesn't appreciate your snarky attitude, he likes how you can shapeshift. He really likes animals and will sometimes scope in on you when you transform, nodding with approval and whispering a little, "cool" that he hopes nobody hears.

Spy thinks you're a nuisance around the base but definitely sees the usefulness in your shapeshifting abilities since he kinda almost does the same damn thing, just with his goofy masks. He respects you for that, if anything, at all.

Do not ever expect to replace him or get remotely close to him in espionage, though. If you are at the same level as Nimona, you're not great at directly impersonating humans, and he will tease you about it.

"What was that, today?

"What was what?"

"The 'Oh Mon deu! Ack! Oohh! I dropped my baguette' if that was meant to be an impersonation of me, know that it was terrible, and my lawyer will be contacting you."

"I dunno, I think it was pretty accurate." *shrug*

Medic loves you. Sorry, not sorry. Loves you. Does get tired of you sometimes, but not all the time. He's generally also very *bzzz bzzz chaos organs* so he's happy to indulge in whatever you want to do which usually involves the absolute destruction of everything.

Medic is also incredibly fascinated by your shapeshifting ability. Do not sleep around this man while shape shifted because he's poking and prodding everywhere while you're out.

"Ohoho... how peculiar" *pokes open nerve*

"YEOUCH WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

*nervous chuckle as he hides a bucket of blood and from your view*

Engineer tries to be that guiding light he thinks you need. He's a friend, a father figure, a colleague, whatever you need. He's a nice Southern gentleman with a slightly insane twist. Encourages you to be careful around the others, but if you aren't, he's not complaining. Makes the job easier if everyone listens.

Heavy is pretty chill with you. He's neither annoyed nor pleased that you're around. He relatively keeps to himself, medic, and his guns.

Actually, do not touch his gun. Do not pretend to be his gun either.

Soldier and Demo like your charisma. You can be a pretty fun drinking partner for demo, and a nice soldier when you're willing to follow orders (which isn't usually) but as long as you get the job done with as much destruction as possible, Soldier is saluting you almost as much as he does the American flag that is hanging next to his bed.

"ANOTHER GREAT DAY, TODAY! KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK AND I MIGHT RAISE YOUR STATUS, CADET!"

"SIR YES SIR! or something I dunno, fuck this is weird..."

*walks with soldier, ignoring the screams of the dammed behind you*

He makes you transform into an eagle and has you sit there on his arm for a while, admiring you fly. It's brought him close to tears on many occasions.

Whenever he gets married to Heavy's sister, Soldier is making sure that you are THERE as an Eagle. He'll pay you to fly across the sky and make majestic bird noises.

Overall, some very mixed experiences. But a fun concept either way.

#nimona #tf2 #team fortress two #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #platonic tf2 #tf2 medic #team fortress two x reader #tf2 engineer #tf2 spy #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier

[russellsppttemplates]

hi <3 how about y/n having a girls night at a club or something, and then her friends call charles to pick her up and she’s all drunk and heʼs taking care of her while finding it very amusing 🥹❤️

(have a nice week ahead!!)

Note: I hope you have a good week, too! ✨️🤍

Cw: mentions drinking

"Do you guys need a ride home?", Charles asked your friends when he met up with you outside of the club, "No need, I already called Theo and he'll take us, no worries. You have your hands full with that one! Oh, look, that's him! Bye, guys!", she waved and you managed to wave back before Charles helped you inside his car.

"Monaco is pretty, all of the lights and everything. Oh, such a flashy car in front of us", you pointed out, the red breaking light reflecting on your already blushed cheeks.

"We're almost home amour. I'll help you get ready for bed and we'll sleep this off", he offered, kissing your cheek before driving home once the light became green.

"Here, have some water, amour", he offered, making sure you drank the liquid before you headed upstairs.

While you managed to get to the bedroom, Charles gathered a paracetamol and some juice for you, knowing you would complain about the taste of the pills, getting to the shared bedroom as he saw you nearly falling asleep sat on the bed. "Let's take this makeup off, okay?", he said as he helped you up, helping you to the bathroom and holding you up so you could sit on the counter, grabbing the products and massaging them onto your skin before wetting the flannel and gently rubbing it on your skin.

"You're doing this very well, Charles, you're very knowledgeable in these things", you complimented cutely, Charles resisting the urge to kiss your lips since he had yet to clean off the makeup there. "I know you don't like to sleep with your make up on, and I've watched you do this many times", he smiled, "can you brush your teeth, gorgeous?", he asked as he disposed of the towell in the clothes hamper.

Kissing your lips softly after he too brushed his teeth, Charles braided your hair so it would be out of your face, "Let's take this outfit off so you can put your pyjamas on", he said as he tried to help, "I'm fine, I can do it on my own, I'm a big girl", you said as you did your best, only stumbling twice as you managed to put the t-shirt on, watching as your boyfriend was planning on only sleeping in his pyjama shorts, "I want cuddles, lots of them", you said after drinking the juice like he asked you to, coming to the bed and resting your head on his chest, "I love you Charles", you said as your arms circled his waist, "you're the best in the world".

"You think so?", your boyfriend mused. "Absolutely! You picked me up, helped me despite my insistence, and listened to me ramble about Monaco's beauty even though you have lived here your whole life, and I have too", you hiccuped, "you're the very best, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval, and you're mine", you smiled, kissing his chest before you feel asleep, amusing him with your words.

(Thank you for your submission ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[treasureofmammon]

✨️🐱🐶 Fluffy and furry friends 🐶🐱✨️

I was feeling uninspired, but many of you gave me great ideas when I asked. The first one here is from @adelha-mathilde. You got big brain! 🧠

👥️Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, MC (gn!reader), Solomon (mentioned).

⚠️Warnings: Fluff & fun. Cuteness. For all types of readers, except if you don't like animals such as cats and dogs.

✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️

✨️ Intro ✨️

The task at hand is hard, as usual. Your teacher, Solomon, has asked you to turn yourself into a kitten or a puppy and find a secret from each one of the House of Lamention's inhabitants. If one of these can be a little secret from Lucifer that pushes him into forming a pact, the better; though, you know that won't be the case.

Especially when the incantation is not giving any results. You pronounce every word in the spell as best as you can, reading word by word from the magic book that Satan lent you: —Gusts of wind, spirit of the Earths, hear me out, I'm the sorcerer Y/N who commands to turn this one into a cat!—. Once again and for the nth time: no results.—What is it that I'm doing wrong?!— you say at loud, pouting, your pretty face now reflecting disappointment and frustration. —Am I reciting the wrong spell?—, you flip through the pages, sadden by your apparent lack of success.

Meanwhile, an army of puppies and kittens pops out of nowhere in the entrance of the house, when...

💙 Lucifer 💙

... when Lucifer enters the room, finally able to come home after a long day of work. However, his pristine and proudful aura is met by the adorable sight. Completely shocked by the unexpected surprise, he tries to keep his cool, but his heart is now divided between anger against whoever brought these creatures here and gentleness for these adorable beings. Especially when there's a cute little puppy, quite similar to Cerberus may I add, pulling one of his shoe laces. Lucifer finally gives in. He chuckles and picks up the little one, his hands meet with a kind and cozy warmth. Carefully, he brings the puppy to his chest and pets its little head. —It's not your fault that you were brought here, isn't it?—. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the puppy's head, but the cute fluffy thing quickly escapes Luci's gesture and licks his nose, which just brings more laughter from the eldest of the demon brothers. —You are so adorable. Although I'm afraid I'll have to severely punish whomever brought you and your friends here—, his excitement now mixes up with his eagerness to find the culprit, and his sadistic side comes to light. Although the puppy doesn't really care, too busy to sense such aura when it's licking Lucifer's handsome face.

💛 Mammon 💛

... when Mammon quietly enters the house, trying not to be caught by any of his brothers, especially Lucifer. Yes, it's true he has spent some all of the money on his gambling and yes, he might have taken a couple of expensive vases from the house to get, and subsequently loose their value in money, but he's sure next time at the casino he'll be able to get them back. So, there's nothing to worry about! Right? But, to avoid any unnecessary questioning and even punishment, he observes from the main door's threshold to all the visible corners of the house before going inside, and thinks "clear" once he notices none of his brothers are around. Then, he enters in his tiptoes and closes the door slowly to make no sounds. Although, his thoughts and his sneaky escape to his room are interrupted by a small, cute little "meow". Mammon freeze, and slowly, his gorgeous face turns to his left, seeking the cause of such adorable sound, just to find an army of kittens and puppies in the entry. Mammon forgets his shady business and immediately melts in an audible "Aw". He sits on the floor, not even questioning why or how did these adorable creatures ended up in his house entry; he lets himself be approached by every single one, petting each little cutie and giving each names that he will either confuse or forget. Although, if by any chance one of his brothers shows up, he'll quickly return to his tough façade and pretend he didn't just talked to the adorable beings with a weird high-pitched voice, holding and even kissing them all.

🧡 Leviathan 🧡

... when Levi walks down the stairs. After hours and hours of speed-running a game, he finally noticed his hunger; so he decided to go for a snack in the kitchen. However, he hadn't even come down the stairs when he noticed the adorable army of creatures in his house's entry. —Wh-What in the-?—, he says to himself, surprised. He walks down the stairs and slowly approaches the group, confused and intrigued. A cute puppy comes his way and Levi backs down a little, thinking that this sight might be a trap; but when the dog smells his shoes and then looks up with a cute canine grin, Levi relaxes. He squats next to the cute fluffy thing and pets him with care. —You are not as cute as my Henry 2.0, but you're incredibly adorable still—. Levi chuckles as he picks up the puppy in his arms, letting it lick his pretty face. Although he has questions, there's no harm in enjoying this refreshing visit, isn't it?

💚 Satan 💚

... when Satan enters the room. Coming from the house's library where he was researching some old spell books to get inspiration on his next attack silly prank to Lucifer, Satan freezes at the sight. His usually stoic and serious personality melts away as he sees these cute little puppies and kittens.

—I-is this a dream, or is this real?!—

As expected, the demon loses his rationality and gives in to his weakness immediately, loving every little bit of whatever is happening. He'll not question this lucky encounter, rather, he'll take the time to pet each fluffy friend, especially the kittens; he'll hold them all, name them, feed them, pet them and even kiss them. As if in a trance between high-pitched phrases and awes, he won't notice anything or anyone else around him, just his army of fluffy and furry friends.

🩷 Asmodeus 🩷

... when Asmodeus comes down the stairs. After a refreshing five hours long bath and several beauty routines, Asmo is finally ready to make dinner since he's on cooking duty tonight. In a little rush, he comes down the stairs, not noticing the large group of puppies and kittens until he steps the downstairs floor. Asmo gasps and then screams delighted: —AH! SO CUTE!—. He then wastes no time and takes pictures and selfies with each one of the fluffy things until satisfied. Dinner long forgotten, especially when a cute little poodle puppy approaches him constantly for more pets and kisses, which Asmodeus obviously delivers. —Aw! You're so adorable! You want more from me, the most gorgeous being in all realms, don't you? Here!—, he gives the tiny dog a small peck in its little head. Satisfied, Asmo gently hugs the baby, who licks his beautiful hands until it falls asleep in his arms. Lucky puppy!

❤️ Beelzebub ❤️

... when Beelzebub enters the room, coming from the kitchen to his and Belphie's room after rummaging and emptying the fridge. Beel has a couple of snacks in his hand that he drops in surprise as he notices the large group of puppies and kittens. —Uh-oh...—, he says, looking all around him, making sure none of his eldest brothers are around, thinking about how can he protect these adorable creatures from the cold and ruthless Devildom, before anyone else kicks them out.

Nonetheless, his train of thought is interrupted as a cute puppy reaches to him, standing in its two hind legs while gently scratching Beel's leg for his attention. Beelzebub smiles gently and picks up the little guy just to be licked by it. Beel chuckles but immediately realizes that the puppy is trying to lick the crumbs around his mouth. So, without hesitation, Beel prepares a huge pot of food for all his new family members. After that, he'll hide them and maybe even play with the fluffy babies before letting them sleep with Belphie, who will probably enjoy the warmth.

💜 Belphegor 💜

... when Belphegor gets in the entry room. He was still half asleep after waking up from his long nap in the living room and slowly walking to his bed when he noticed the army of kittens and puppies. Belphegor smiles gently and quickly sits on the floor, letting all the adorable creatures approach him. He pets and cuddle each one of them, laughing when these make something funny or letting a big "Aw" out when they make something cute.

The furry creatures bring Belphie a lot of peace and warmth that he can't slip past. So he slowly lays down on the floor and starts to slumber, feeling his power get to the kittens and puppies as well; they start to move around Belphie to fall asleep with their new friend, until the silence fills the house once again.

✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️💖💛✨️

[Notes: The character(s) depicted here belong to the mobile game "Obey me: shall we date" and are owned by Solmare Corporation. The text here was made by me: Treasure of Mammon, meaning this is fan-made. | GN!Reader | English is not my first language, so there might be orthographic and syntax errors. I urge you all to interact kindly with this post].

📌 Masterlist

#Treasure of Mammon writing #Treasure of Mammon asks #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me gender neutral mc #gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #gn reader #obey me fluff #obey me fanfic #obey me fic

[miller-n-morgan]

And I Feel Fine (.i)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: Random selection on weekly patrol is a completely normal occurrence. A coincidental raid on the Jackson dam generator by Tommy’s older brother (and a little stranger) is absolutely not.

Warnings: there's a lot to unpack here, bear with me; mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. This one literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 5.7k

Hi everyone! Thank you guys for the likes and shares and encouragement of my work before I even posted it! I appreciate you guys so much and I hope you enjoy (if that's even possible yet this is so messy for a first chapter)

The man is tall, his face looks worn and tried by the tests of time. It’s not a bad face, you reason. It’s just older, seen more things. You recognized him, though he doesn’t look the same now as the source material from which you know him. He used to wear a smile, you’re pretty sure. “Have we… met?” He seemed confused, trying to meet your wandering stare. Tommy stepped in, thinking he’d better introduce you both. “This is my brother, J-” “Joel,” you nodded, turning back to Tommy for only a second. “I remember from those pictures you brought back.”

Fall leaves are on the ground, on your front porch, and practically everywhere you look this morning. Other houses wear the orange and red upon their rooftops and over their outdoor furniture. It’s your favorite season while it’s in motion, while the leaves are still falling. It’s romantic somehow, after waking up from the nightmares. The rainbow after the rain, or something like that. 

In a few weeks, you know the best of it will be over, and the wind will carry the leaves to the middle of the street, into the town area, and it will be impossible to see anything else but the dead color bursts. That is when you hate fall, when its leaves need to be raked up and out of the way. By then they are crisp and dry beneath your feet, a reminiscent sound of something else that isn’t as pleasing. You will be loathing when that time rolls around, but for now you are at peace, and savoring the momentary beauty. Nothing is permanent, including your ability to sit in the warmth of your house, sipping the hot coffee you’d brewed before patrol.

You’ve only rotated twice in two weeks, which doesn’t make a damn lick of sense considering you are one of only three people that knows the western route. 

Tommy’s put you on for this morning, he and Maria are to accompany you and a few others around the power plant by the dam. There’s been some noise going on the past few weeks, and with the livelihood of the commune on the line, it’s best to sort these things out, nip them in the bud. 

You take your mug to the kitchen sink and give it a quick rinse, grabbing the two lonely carrots in your fridge on the way out, stuffing them in the pocket of your jacket. 

By the time you’ve actually laced up your boots, and tripped on your doorway’s crooked ridge - a morning tradition, no matter how many years you’ve lived here - the sun is cresting over the mountains, the light barely shining over the homes and their leafy crowns of orange and red and yellow and brown. 

It’s still only seven-thirty by the time you reach the stables. You know Maria’s probably got something to eat packed away for later, you never got too hungry in the morning anyways. Tommy un-hatches the gate for you, walking up with half a smile on his face.  

“Provoker is living up to his name just now, kicked my ass right out of his stall,” he shook his head, throwing an annoyed hand behind him to spite the horse. “And here I was tryna do somethin’ nice for ya.”

You huffed a laugh, trying to seem apologetic for your stallion’s bad behavior. He always teased you, ‘your old horse wasn’t like this,’ and ‘maybe I’ll shoot him and claim self defense.’ But of course, Maria wouldn’t stand for that. Casper, or as Tommy so lovingly has taken to calling him, ‘Provoker’ was found several miles south of the commune, just a scared and hungry horse. He was strong and sturdy and learned the routes quickly. Tommy was just an ass because the horse didn’t seem to like men.

“What did you do this time?” 

“Ain’t done nothing, swear it. Keith saw me, was just passin’ through,” he defended, his hands in the air. 

“With you, that can be enough,” you shouldered passed him into the stables, hearing him follow on your trail. 

“You callin’ me fat?” 

“Absolutely.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing his bridal from the wall and handing you yours. The horses are usually saddled early in the morning, all except for Casper. Maria does good with him, and when you get to his stall you can see she’s already prepared the tall stallion for the ride. 

“Good mornin’, handsome…” you pulled a carrot from your pocket and fed it up to the horse, his grateful blow of air a signal that he was in a better mood now.

“Can’t believe you’re rewardin’ his bad behavior.”

Tommy’s voice is not upset, but vaguely annoyed over your shoulder.

“Maybe I’m rewarding his good behavior,” you say it smugly, giving him a narrowed gaze as you turn your head. “You’re higher in rank than me, if I dispose of you I get all the power.” 

Maria heard you from the next stall down, snickering under her breath. 

“Oh, so that was an assassination attempt, then?” 

“No, you have to be someone of high importance for it to be considered an assassination,” Maria replied, leading her bronze mare from the stalls. Elsie, the horse’s name was. 

You were still fixing the bit for Casper before adjusting the bridal. 

“She just admitted I was higher in rank,” he argued, pulling his own horse forward now, leaving only you to catch up behind them. 

“Still lower in rank to me, bud,” she teased, nudging his shoulder and smiling in his direction. He smiled back, and by witnessing it alone, you mirrored both expressions. 

You’d been here since before they were even together. Almost ten years since you’d met Tommy, and eight since you’d met Maria. You saw them meet each other, saw them interact before this was ever the norm. You swore back then they hated each other’s guts, hated whatever one had to say to them. With time the hatred melted to a dull dislike, and by the time the Jackson commune was established, they seemed to have forgotten any ill feelings they ever had. It was like watching a movie over the span of four years, the personal threats and arguments turned into strange and somehow meaningful compliments or encouragements. They were married three years ago, and it was the first wedding you’d ever attended. You remember it so well because you imagined that maybe someday you’d get a shot. You would have a chance at loving someone the way Tommy adored Maria, heart and soul. 

“There’s a few boys still stationed out at the generator. I reckon they kept clear any danger during the night, but we should still be vigilant.”

Tommy’s warning brought you back, allowing you to pick up time from where you left it. The three of you lined up in front of the commune’s entrance point, mounting your horses and waiting for the go ahead from the men guarding the gates. It’s been a rough season, dealing with raiders, hunters, and even on the odd occasion, children in need of shelter. 

Casper took off before you even had to tell him, because he’s gone out enough times to know the drill. Maria follows closely behind, with Tommy lagging slightly. His horse, Dakota, was an old girl… probably one of the oldest in town. But she was smart, reliable, and got where she needed to be… eventually.

The ride was quiet this morning, no animals in the trail or clickers wandering the premises. It was actually nice and serene, matching the beautiful scenery of the fall ambers. 

It wasn’t long before your horse’s legs slowed, trotting to the checkpoint and coming to a halt when the watchers spotted you. 

You recognized one of the guys in the tower, Billy. He was a little younger than you, but closer in age than most of the company you keep. Nice guy, but not a thought behind those eyes.

“Top of the mornin to ya,” he called out, leaning over the edge of the rail with a cheesy grin. 

“Morning,” you called up, dismounting Casper and leading him around the wall now. “Heard you boys had some trouble last night.”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. How about you, princess, you sleep okay?” 

You snorted, looking up to him with a bright expression. 

“Like a baby.”

You tied the reins by the makeshift trough that had been half assed and reconstructed over the years, looking out over the dam where the checkpoint sat upon. Everything was running smoothly, so either they actually did dispose of last night’s threats, or they were keeping them hidden extremely well. The water flowed, the power ran. 

You weren’t really paying attention to what Tommy said when he came around the corner, just hummed along to his words and hoped he didn’t notice. 

You liked this checkpoint more than the rest. The water was beautiful, the nature around it even prettier of a sight. You wished you could have seen it under better circumstances, without a gun on your hip and a knife in your pocket. 

You wish that in another life you could come here, lay a picnic blanket down, and just sit by the water and the trees behind it in the distance, the mountains over and above framing them like a painting. What a shame for something to lose its beauty on the technicality of implication. The men stationed at every point on the river implies it isn’t safe. The weapons in their arms imply that the dangers are not few, and the way they look to each other implies they would rather not be here, with Jackson’s commune being the only place they can really feel at home anymore. 

“Hey,” Tommy’s direct call to the back of your head made it turn. “You listenin’?”

“Huh?” 

He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as he repeated his words. 

“Can you go check the bridge and see about damages?” 

You nodded, a small ‘yeah’ rolling off your lips when you started into that direction. 

You passed by Billy going up the stairs, giving him a small smile and a nod before turning the corner. You liked him, really, you did… but you were too tired and too hungry to interact with a guy who thought a great point of conversation was mentioning the different soups of the week in the dining hall. 

“Come to inspect my handy work?” Terry, an older man with a strange wit about him, had been waiting for you on the bridge when you got there. 

“Yep, Tommy just wants to make sure all the bases are covered.”

You peeked around one of the smaller generators, seeing the body of a dead raider that had been dragged aside from the walkway. He was already starting to smell, the rotten odor making you scrunch your nose in disgust. 

“You just left him here all night?” You asked, kicking the boot of the stiff, cold man. He had a bullet hole in his neck, and you figured, Terry was awfully proud of putting it there. The man had a good aim, one of the better shots in town. 

“Didn’t know exactly where to put ‘im until the shift was over. Guess that’s your job, now,” he grinned devilishly, jabbing you in the ribs with his elbow. You tried to get him back but he just caught your arm and left it loose. “Easy now, don’t hurt your arm… gonna need it to carry him.”

You sighed, walking around to where you could get a good grip on his boots, picking them up one by one before dragging him from that corner. 

“Was he the only one?” 

“As far as we know, we called it in as soon as we shot him. There haven’t been any other surprises since then.”

“Good to know,” you let out, getting him around the corner and to the stairs. Billy didn’t seem to be as chatty now that you were accompanied by a dead body, but he stared the entire time you got him positioned at the staircase. 

“Need some help?” he finally offered, but at this point, you had it covered. 

“I’m good.”

You kicked hard enough to roll him over, letting his body topple over the stairs until he reached the bottom. Years ago, doing this may have bothered you. Disrespecting the body of someone who died in this cruel world would have turned your stomach. But again, that was years ago. Now, this body was just some jackass who tried to ambush your family of survivors, and you had to dispose of him. 

“Well that looks… fun.” 

His dry attempt at humor made you huff a single laugh through your nose, following down the stairs a moment later. You got back to the work of pulling the guy’s tattered boots, dragging him through the dirt and leaving a muddy trail of blood from where it seeped out his neck. 

Tommy was coming around the corner with some tools, probably on his way to fix something important, but he stopped a moment to watch you and your unfortunate task. 

“Gonna lend a hand?” You asked him, the pace of your backwards steps slowing when you passed him. 

“No, I think you got it,” he joked, moving on with a smile the next moment. What an ass. He was like a big brother that you never had. You knew that man would kill for you, and has before, but still found every opportunity to mess with or tease you. What an ass.

Just wait till Maria hears about this, you think. Then he’ll be in for it.

You roll the body into the river once you get far enough away from the dam, making sure he won’t cause any harm to the flow or energy. Once you’re sure he’s completely out of the way and taken care of, you turn back to the checkpoint, walking over to Maria as she finished speaking with the main watchguard from last night. You figure you should blame him for your task, since he could have done it… but that’s petty, and you only have room to be petty when you know it’ll get you somewhere. 

“Guess what I just did?” you asked in a mocking tone, a fake smile plastered on your face as you crossed your arms.

“Probably something to earn the sandwich I brought you,” she returned, knowing you well enough by now to recognize your sarcastic behavior. 

“I dragged a body from the bridge to the river, it better be a fucking good sandw-”

“Turkey and cheese.”

“God bless you,” you folded, following her to her backpack inside.

As soon as the food was in your hands, you gave her a genuine smile, sitting down at an old abandoned desk almost immediately. The woman chuckles under her breath. She remembered too many times you’d skipped breakfast before a patrol… it was by now a part of the routine to make you something to eat when she got scheduled alongside you.

“Save some for later, we might be here a while.” She pat your shoulder, leaving without a response from your end. You were far too occupied to give her one, anyways. 

The town’s butcher was a nasty man, but everyone loved him dearly, and this was why. You imagine that before the outbreak he was probably some big time deli owner, one of the best around. It’s just a fucking sandwich, you think… but it’s so damn good.

You saved about half, knowing that now you were fed, you could tie yourself over until the next meal in the hall this evening. It was Wednesday, so the menu would probably consist of soups and salads. 

You get a bit caught up in wrapping your leftover food until you hear a bit of confused banter from outside. It sounds like Maria, but you can’t be sure. Whoever she’s just finished yelling at isn’t an imminent threat, you can tell that much, but you still worry. You take enough time to put the sandwich away and start to leave the warehouse, pulling the gun from its place at your hip. You don’t raise it, but having it close is better, you’ve learned. The noise outside has ceased but after a moment, the door opens.

“Maria?” You don’t even make it out of the hallway when you bump into Tommy, side by side with a stranger. He catches your eye in a familiar way. “Hey, I know you.”

The man is tall, his face looks worn and tried by the tests of time. It’s not a bad face, you reason. It’s just older, seen more things. You recognized him, though he doesn’t look the same now as the source material from which you know him. He used to wear a smile, you’re pretty sure.

“Have we… met?” He seemed confused, trying to meet your wandering stare. Tommy stepped in, thinking he’d better introduce you both. 

“This is my brother, J-”

“Joel,” you nodded, turning back to Tommy for only a second. “I remember from those pictures you brought back.”

“Right,” Tommy mumbled, stepping closer to you. “He’s brought a girl with him. Maria took her to get some of those rations in the back section, but I think you still have the keys on your chain. You might wanna head over there.”

“Alright,” you started in the direction of the exit, walking backward to give Tommy a warning. “I left half a sandwich in there, don’t touch it.”

-

You stood outside of the Boston QZ, fourteen years old and scared as hell. It was hard enough to get in without being caught, but once you were inside, you’d have to remain invisible for the next month, or at least, until you could settle your predicament. 

“This way,” echoed a voice in your head, the young man that accompanied you, trying to sneak you under the city tunnels. You followed him until you were in a sewer, having trouble making your way through given that your body specifications had changed over the last eight and a half months.

The man ahead of you didn’t bother to help or to make the path easier, but kept yelling for you to keep up. 

“I’m trying,” you trudged on, your swollen feet making you stumble along the sludgy water. “It’s really hard.”

He huffed, his face invisible to you as you blocked it out of your mind. “You have to move faster, we can’t get caught down here.”

Your eyes formed tears at his flippant tone, impatient and completely ridiculous about how fast you were moving when you clearly could only strain yourself so much. You let a hand fall subconsciously to your swollen stomach as you climbed out of the sewer, following the man ahead at an impressive speed given your condition. 

You hated him, wanted to leave him… but you knew you would die without his direction. 

“Alright, coast looks clear. If we linger around here a while we can blend with the crowd as we move down.”

He didn’t pay any mind to your state, the tears streaming down your face or the pain in your back and hips. The way you waddled just to meet him around the corner, watching for people passing by. 

“Once we find the contact, you know what to do.” Flat tone, flat words, unfeeling. You still couldn’t see his face, but his voice is strong. It plagues you.

“Yes…” and you turn to the dirty window beside you. Your appearance is appalling at best, scruffy and unbrushed hair pulled back in a ponytail, tear stained cheeks. Your torn jacket and ripped pants barely cling to you, now wet and sagging around you from the water in the sewer. The only thing left to stare at is your too thin body, struggling to hold the weight of what grew inside you. The face that looks you back in the eye… it’s young, too young for this. It has a dark history, and doubts about the future. It wants more than anything to be at peace, to relax and be settled… but it looks to you as is, not as it should be.

“Are you okay?” Maria asks, taking the key you were about to give her, your hand now frozen in mid air as you stare down the kid before you.

“Yeah, I’m good I just-” You can’t seem to move, breathing out shakily. You manage to lift a finger in her direction. “Who is-?”

“Ellie. She’s with Joel, they’ve been traveling together.” She finishes unlocking the storage base, shouldering the door open. When she turns back you haven’t barely moved. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“No…” 

And finally you beg your muscles to move, to turn your head away. Your eyes moving from the girl’s face causes a chain reaction, and you regain full motion again. You wait for Ellie to follow Maria, make sure there’s a good chunk of distance between you, then walk into the building, your head to the ground in deep thought. That face, it’s you… no. It’s her. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Ellie whispers to Maria, turning back to watch the way you struggle forward, trying everything in your power to avert your eyes from her, but she’s still there. 

“I don’t know,” Maria puts her hands on her hips, genuine concern arising.  “What's wrong with you?” 

Give an answer. Give a realistic answer that doesn’t raise more questions. Not the truth, though.

“She just reminds me of someone, that’s all.”

The girl seems angsty given your state and how shaken you seemed. Like you saw a ghost. You still aren’t sure she isn’t one.

“A dead someone?” She asks, louder than her last words.

“No,” You shake your head. Not a lie. You’re not dead yet, and you don’t think she is. Can’t be a ghost, especially not mine. Maria wouldn’t see her. “Sorry if I’m bein’ weird, you just… how old are you?”

“Fourteen... And a half.”

Fourteen was bad enough, but the little witty ‘and a half’ gave you a very good estimate of her birthday, or at least, birth month. You gasped lightly, whatever air you could take in was coming in small doses. You suddenly can’t take a deep breath, your head running in circles and repeating dates, times, names, places. Faces, even.

“Maria, I think I’m gonna sit down a while.”

You fell against the closest table, scooting back on it until your back hit the pole it was against. 

“Take your time,” She muttered, nodding and pulling Ellie along to the lockers.

She pried one open, pulling a few cans of food from the containment and giving them to her. Peaches, baked beans, chicken soup, all were pretty good options in comparison to the hunted and gathered rations she and Joel had been surviving on. She would have been far more excited had she not been focused on the woman sitting down, her eyes closed and hands raised to her head from the other side of the room. 

“Does this happen to her a lot?” She couldn’t stop staring either, the fear about the woman lingering as something familiar.

“Never.”

Maria wasn’t sure what had gotten into you. She had to look through the files of her mind to try and come up with an answer to your madness. The most stoic and brave faced person she’d come across, now sitting in shambles of thought. 

“Do you know who I remind her of?” 

Maria shakes her head, handing Ellie a can opener and a spoon. “No.” 

For a moment she thinks that maybe it could be your sister, deceased… but you said the specific someone wasn’t dead.

“Her whole family died a while ago, and I don’t know anyone back home that looks like you.” 

“She’s on her own?” Ellie dug into the chicken soup can first, her hunger now distracting from the conversation.

“She’s got us, but yeah I guess so.”

All alone. No family left, all gone to cordyceps and raiders. Mother, Father, young brother, baby sister. No one made it. 

“That’s sad. I hope I don’t make her upset or anything.”

Maria shook her head, sitting next to the girl. This poor kid has probably been through a lot. Knowing what she does of Joel, she thinks he can’t be a pleasant traveling companion. Ellie doesn’t need anything else to worry about, least of all a total stranger.

“No, that’s not it. I think she might just be remembering someone she forgot about. Life’s been tough on her.”

The girl nodded, spooning into the can of soup now that it had finally been opened.

-

The woman was tall, dark hair cropped higher than her shoulders, her face was stiff and unexpressive, like most people in this QZ. 

“You got the pills?” She asked, her voice low as she looked around to make sure no one watched on. No Fedra officers or anything of the like.

“Yeah,” the faceless voice spoke, a hand reaching out with the pill bag. It was half full, probably more than one bottle. “Vicodin, hospital standard. You can try 'em, they’re still good.”

“Alright,” she took them, inspecting the sides of the bag. She’s done this enough times, she can tell they’re real. “I found a family that’s willing to take another baby. Had to pull some strings, but they’re open to it.”

“Where are they?” he asked, and you turned to him, the forceful tone he had made you jump a little. The woman before you noticed, and didn’t seem thrilled about it. She turned to you, slightly more compassionate than when she was scowling at the man by your side. 

“How old are you, kid?” 

You looked to him first, and he looked apprehensive. You needed an out, this is it. “Fourteen.”

She took a sharp inhale, turning to the man, her arms crossed. Her face was again ruthless, the glare she sent him was unrelenting. 

“And how old are you?” 

He didn’t answer for a moment, feeling cornered. “That’s not really your business. You got the pills, just tell us where to go.” 

The woman shook her head, dropping it as a chuckle escaped her. 

“I’ll take her,” she answered, eyes flitting back and forth between you. Your body language when she spoke told her you were relieved.”Without you.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

And before you knew it, she pulled a gun from the back of her pants. You gasped, standing back, and the man grabbed at your arm, but you shrugged it away. This is where you get off the train, away from the way it’s been carrying you along the long and winding tracks, only making stops in the most complicated of stations. 

“The deal is I find a safe place for her to have a kid, and someone to hand it off to. Those are the terms, and I intend to keep my end.” 

You stepped closer to her, watching as she placed her finger on the trigger. “I didn’t agree to what I didn’t know.”

“Look, I know where to find more pills, just take us where you’re supposed to and I can get you more,” he raised his hands, trying to beg, trying to argue, but the woman didn’t budge. She knew that you’d either been forced into this companionship, or trafficked into it. She wasn’t a good person by any means, but she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to something she wouldn’t condone herself. 

“I’m about to ask her a question, and if the answer isn’t no… you’re gettin’ your head blown off, ya hear?” She turned to you, looking you up and down. She wants to be wrong, wants to find out this guy is just a nice companion that happened to be helping you out of the kindness of his heart. But she’s doubtful, call it an apocalyptic mindset. “Is that his kid?”

You chanced a look at the faceless man, feeling his eyes on you though you could not place them. He was expectant, waiting for you to lie so that he could go back to being your keeper, telling you what to do.

“Yes,” you nodded, the tears from earlier returning to your eyes and making the stains on your cheeks even darker than before. 

“Just stop, I can get you more!”

The woman raised her gun more steady, her finger beginning to pull back on the trigger before you stopped her, a hand at her arm. 

“Wait,” you breathed, the rapid inhales were evening out as you asked her: “Can I do it?” 

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re doing, don’t do this,” he begged, the reverberation of his words like a whirring siren in your head. You remember sirens, from before the outbreak. Cops cars, ambulances, fire trucks. You remember them. They always signaled help was on the way, and that’s what this felt like. 

The woman was shocked, but didn’t hesitate to hand you her gun. You’d been through hell with this asshole, and you couldn’t let someone else have the satisfaction of dealing with him. She understood your mindset well, as others in her past brought about the same feelings. 

You raised the gun to him, and heard one more cry of your name pass from his lips before pulling the trigger. The tears stopped flooding your cheeks almost instantly, and you breathed out in relief. The woman didn’t wait for you to hand it back, she took the gun from you and placed it back in her pants. 

“You okay?” She asked. 

“I’m better…”

And then she nudged you out of the alleyway, beginning to lead you in the direction of your next steps. You weren’t out of the woods, yet. 

You don’t even know what happened during the attack, just that you went into autopilot and started shooting from the first sign of intruders. It was more of those fuckin hunters. The ones who killed whole groups of people at a time in order to steal the most trivial items off their bodies. Too bad not one of them survived. 

You tossed up a look and your eyes met the familiar stranger. Joel, Tommy’s long lost brother. Your head was foggy, but you’re pretty sure he just saved your ass from getting shot. Not like it was your fault, you weren’t at your best, and you probably wouldn’t be until you figured shit out.

“Are you alright?” Tommy came up beside you, his arm on your shoulder, sleeve torn where the bullet just missed. 

“Physically.” You turned to see Ellie run up to Joel. 

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

You froze again, watching how she interacted with the older man, the way she was so expressive. Tommy hadn't ever seen you like this. So… affected.

“Means I’m all over the place. Not really sure what’s real right now.” You turned back to him, following him around, trying to find Maria.

“Well, maybe you should ride back with Billy, he’s about to head out. You can go home, rest.”

“No, I don’t-” You cut yourself short, trying to recouperate your words. “I don’t need rest, I need some clarity.”

“On what?” His exasperation was not due to annoyance, but rather the fact that he knew… it had something to do with his brother and Ellie.

“Where did Joel find that girl?” You crossed your arms, trying to broach the subject without just telling him yet.

“Probably back in Boston, why?” 

You’ve known Tommy for ten years, since right after he left his brother. Since he’d gone off on the trail of the fireflies, a trail you’d gone down a while, too. He knew practically everything about you. Knew about your family, about the hunters you used to run with as a kid, the guy who basically kidnapped you… and yeah, he knew about the baby you gave up.

“You remember that one story I told you? From when I was younger?” 

He stopped in his tracks, not turning around fully, but tossing a look over his shoulder at you. It was unsettled and confused, but not upset. He knew you had good reason to believe what you did… but still. It was a one in a million chance, right?

“C’mon… you can’t possibly think that’s her.”

“Tommy…” you knew he was trying to keep your hopes down, that he didn’t want you to over excite yourself on a whim… but what if? You’d prayed for this day, to find her again. You went back for her once and she wasn’t there, neither was the family you left her with. You hoped she was alive, but until now you were never sure… you’re still not sure but you hope, you hope.

“There could be a hundred other kids out there that look a bit like you, you know that.” The chances are a million to one… but he can’t stand to look at you, your eyes so full of something he hasn’t seen there before. Not just hope, but something else, something full of a happiness that is only at its most basic potential, unknowing. “Did you ask her anything? Check for the birthmark?” 

You shook your head, arms tightening as you looked back to Ellie in the distance. 

“No, I was terrified. Kept thinking I was gettin’ haunted by the ghost of my past self.” 

It was meant as a joke, but it was partially serious.

He sighed, following your line of sight and tilting his head. Yeah, he saw the resemblance. He’d met you at age eighteen, but he pictured you younger. Cheeks still a little puffy from the unlost baby fat, eyes still bright and twinkling despite the things you’d seen. Probably quite a bit shorter, too. He figured that she’s the spitting image of you from that age.

“You really think it’s her?”

You threw your hands up in the air. How many times did you have to say it? Try to convince him? No, you weren’t sure… but you had every reason to believe it. 

“Same age, same face, same QZ-”

“Look… talk to her. Ask her some questions. See if anything matches up.” He ran a hand over his face. He’d made up his mind about something only a minute ago, and it was plaguing him even more now that you came to him. “Now, I gotta go talk to Maria, and after that I’m gonna take her off of Joel’s hands. She’s gonna go to the fireflies. You’re more than welcome to join me, I’ll need the help.”

You used to make runs with Tommy all the time. No problem… but this also meant more time with Ellie, possibly your Ellie. You could ask her more, find out the answers you’ve been longing for since you left her. 

Tags: open

“Okay…” 

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #Joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller #reader insert #the last of us

[hornyhornyhimbos]

SMUTMAS LOOKS SO GOOD may we please please have an aaron hotchner fic where the reader is at a BAU christmas party and aaron is eye fucking her all evening and he finally gets her alone in his office and she rides his thighs/they fuck/overall HORNY PLEASE

so so sorry this is just now getting posted, nonnie. i hope you know i didn't forget about you, i have just had an awful december lol. i hope this was worth the wait though!

"Party For Two" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: When Reader wears quite the scandalous outfit to the BAU's annual Christmas party, Aaron has to put her back in her place.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 1,752

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, thigh riding, spanking, slight cockwarming at the end, slight nipple play, Aaron sorta degrades Reader but not really, slight d/s dynamics, nicknames (dollface; sir), explicit language, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: very sorry i didn't post this earlier, i was ✨️insecure✨️ about my writing skills

Originally Written: 12/02/2023 through 12/18/2023

criminal minds masterlist can be found here!

smutmas info can be found here!

To say Aaron's gaze hadn't made the space between your legs tingle all night… well, that would be the biggest lie you ever told.

In Aaron's defense, how was he supposed to act when you showed up to the BAU Christmas party in a skimpy nightgown that barely covered your ass? Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, and he decided after you showed up looking like an absolute goddess in your tiny silk gown that Penelope was never allowed to pick the theme ever again.

On the same note, you couldn't say you weren't utterly obsessed with the way he looked in his own pajamas. Plaid pants hanging low at his waist, gray shirt hugging his muscled arms and abdomen in ways that should definitely have been illegal.

Butterflies floated around in your tummy as he approached, his normally brown eyes nearly black as he continued to hold your gaze. Still, he acted as nonchalantly as possible, setting his cup of punch down on the table and meeting you with a soft tone. "Can I speak to you in my office, Agent Y/L/N?"

You swallowed the hard lump in your throat, giving him a subtle nod. Your thighs involuntarily clenched together as you started to head into his office, though you met him with innocent eyes as he shut the door behind you.

Hands were on skin immediately as your mouths connected, Aaron kissing you like his life depended on it. He'd wanted to get you alone all night long, and as soon as he realized most of the people at the party were too tipsy to notice if the two of you snuck away, he took his chance.

His lips pulled away first, his eyes dark as your gazes met once again. "What were you thinking, dressing like this?" The words were light, like he was genuinely asking and not reprimanding.

Your eyes remained doe-like as you answered, "Just wanted to look all pretty for you."

Aaron had the audacity to scoff, the low noise sending heat straight to your lower stomach. "Lying and disobeying in the same night? Sounds like you're looking for a punishment, dollface."

In one swift motion, he had you leaning over his paper-covered desk, one hand pushing your tiny dress up to reveal your butt. You'd purposely worn the skimpiest panties you owned, the tiny thong covering absolutely nothing.

His hand came down on you, smacking hard and surely leaving the skin a nice, bright pink. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip, holding in the moan you were already so desperate to release.

"Care to explain what this," he paused, grabbing the thin string of material between your asscheeks, "is all about?" Aaron gave you no time to respond, instead releasing the material and savoring the whine you let out as it popped against your sensitive core.

Another hard slap sounded throughout the tiny room, your skin stinging and your cunt aching. In juxtaposition, his palm soothed over the burning skin, his lips leaving a soft kiss to the dip of your back as he awaited your answer.

"Just wanted to look all pretty for you, sir," you repeated. Your hips shifted involuntarily, searching for some kind of reprieve as well as displaying yourself for Aaron. Your cunt practically dripped around the sorry excuse for underwear you were currently wearing, and you simply couldn't wait for him to take notice.

As if on cue, he was pulling you back up, his mouth smashing into yours for another long, hard kiss. His tongue dipped between your lips while his hand met your ass again, squeezing the skin hard enough to leave bruises under his fingertips.

"Do you think you deserve to cum tonight after what you did?" Aaron asked, his lips barely parting from yours while he spoke.

Eagerly, you nodded. Arousal and want stung between your thighs at his offer, wanting nothing more than to cum all over his cock before the night was through. "Please, sir. Need you to make me cum."

His hands moved to the front of your body, sliding beneath your bra and pinching lightly at your nipples. A soft moan exited your mouth and entered his before he pulled away, a smirk tugging at his lips as you started to turn desperate for him. "Such a pretty little thing when you beg for me." A finger reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Tell you what, dollface. Beg for me just a little longer and maybe I'll give you my cock. If you do a real good job, I might even let you decide how you get it. Okay?"

You gave him another nod before he was pulling you back in for another hard kiss and dragging your body over to the couch. Your tongues collided as he pressed a thigh between your legs, a desperate whine falling out of you at even the slightest friction.

"You like that?" he teased, flexing his thigh. Another needy whimper slipped between your lips, effectively answering his question. Large hands met your hips and began to help you find friction on his thigh, his clothed leg feeling absolutely heavenly under your barely-clothed core.

Your brows furrowed as he started to work you harder, Aaron clearly reveling at the impatient expression across your face. His smirk grew wider as you humped at him like a lost puppy, Aaron your savior.

"Hey," he cooed, fingers wrapping around your chin and leaving crescent moons there as he pulled your face to look at him. "I'm not hearing any begging."

His words caught you off guard, your body unsuspecting as his hand came down on your asscheek once again. "Aaron, please," you whined, your puffy clit desperate for reprieve.

"Gonna have to try a little harder than that, dollface."

"Please," you begged and brought his hand to your front, your silent way of asking him to rub you, touch you, anything really.

A chuckle tumbled between his pretty pink lips, a sound that made your insides melt. A thumb pressed ever so slightly on your sensitive bud, the touch making you clench around nothing. "Is this what you want? Want me to help you finish?"

Your mouth parted into an open 'o' as he circled your clit once, just enough of a touch to have you keening. Your hips slowed as you settled into his touch, desperate for his fingers to bring you to your climax.

In swift motions, he was lifting your legs and pushing a finger under your sad excuse for underwear, a fingertip prodding at your entrance. "I can't hear you, dollface. Where'd my desperate girl go off to?"

The tip of his digit barely breached your entrance before his name started to tumble from your lips like a prayer. "Aaron, please," you repeated, surely sounding like a broken record while all he did was barely touch you.

Aaron's slick-covered finger came up to your parted lips. He met you with a leveled expression, like he didn't have you acting like a needy slut right inside his work office. "Dollface, can you suck for me? Want you to taste and see how desperate I make you."

His index finger entered your mouth, the taste of your essence making you moan around his thick digit. "Tastes just as pretty as you, huh?" You nodded in response, not yet releasing the digit from your mouth.

Aaron must've decided to take pity on you, helping you guide yourself along his thighs just a few more times as he pulled himself out of his pajama pants. Without giving you any time to adjust, he was pulling your thong to the side and sliding into you, your walls immediately adjusting to his familiar length.

"Shit," you whined as Aaron started to pound up into you, the head of his cock brushing your sweet spot easily. Every ridge and vein of him filled you up like nothing else, no one else ever could.

"Feel good, dollface?" He was teasing you now, asking rhetorical questions he obviously knew the answer to. "You like the way I fill you up?"

A small noise of approval came out of you as his hips slammed upward into yours, the heavy smack of his balls creating the perfect friction against your ass. You were close, oh so close.

When Aaron pulled your gown off and your bra down, meeting one nipple with his thumb and index fingers and meeting the other with his tongue, you were a goner. Your orgasm washed over you as his hands and mouth and dick made you feel absolutely euphoric.

His hands moved back to your hips while his mouth switched breasts. Tight fingers grabbed your love handles for purchase as he fought for his own orgasm, his palms bouncing you up and down on his length.

"Oh, my god," he groaned, pre-cum coating your walls as you rode his cock for all it was worth. His parted lips, his desperate fingertips on your skin, the thatch of hair on his stomach rubbing deliciously against your clit. It was all too much and not enough and it was oh so hot.

Aaron's thrusts became hopeless and hard as his release washed over him, thick spurts of his seed painting your walls. Both your thrusts slowed as you continued to ride out your highs, hands and mouths desperate to touch any part of the other person you could.

You crashed on top of him, trying and failing miserably to catch your breath. Delicate fingers brushed over your hair, Aaron's chest rising and falling beneath you.

"Did I do a good enough job?" you kidded, eyes already half-lidded. A silent prayer went up that no one would walk in and find you like this if you did fall asleep.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, a small peck meeting your uncovered shoulder. "You really wanna go for round two after we both just nearly passed out?"

Teeth met his neck, leaving a gentle nip. "Can't help it. You make me insatiable."

Another string of deep laughs fell from him, his eyes meeting yours through dark lashes. "I suppose I did make a promise. How do you want me then?"

"Just want to lay here with you inside me. Is that okay?" you answered, clearly content.

In one swift motion, he was flipping you over onto your side, sliding into you from behind and cupping a large arm around your much smaller frame. "For you? Anything works for me, dollface."

-> taglist: @reidsbookclub @broken-stardust @dungeons-are-too-cold @theghouligan @sadgirlml

#imagine #imagines #blurb #blurbs #drabble #drabbles #one shot #one shots #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner one shots #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds one shots #criminal minds smut #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #hornyhornyhimbos #hornyhornyhimbos' smutmas!

[angelltheninth]

Hello !! First of all, I LOVE YOUR BLOG SM YOU'RE A REAL BLESSING FOR FANDOMS !!!!! Here, have a crown 👑✨️

Second of all, might I ask for childe and dacryphilia pretty please? 🙏🙏🙏 just, HE

Anons like you are a blessing! But thank you for the crown, I'll take it.

Pairing: Childe x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, dacryphilia, praise, overstimulation,, dirty talk

A/N: I'm overstimulated just thinking about him.

Under usual circumstances Childe would punch the lights out of anyone who made you cry, including himself. It's a bit of a different story though when the reason you're crying is because you're feeling too stimulated by him.

"Childe, please, I'm so sensitive." You wept while he held your wrists, tightly grasped in his hands and kept you from squirming away from him. Not that you'd want to with how good, how much, how loved he makes you feel even while he smirks down at you while you cry.

"I know you are babygirl, so sensitive from my cock, taking it like a good girl, showing me such a pretty face. I never thought you liked my cock so much you'd cry from it. Learned something new about you tonight. And myself." His cock rammed inside of you, making your pussy flutter all over again, sending a fresh flow of tears down your cheeks.

He groaned from how hard you were gripping him, urging him to come, fully intent on milking his balls dry.

Slowly he lost more and more control, hands shooting up to grab your cheeks, "Show me more, that beautiful expression, it's driving me mad." He growled against your neck, cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot, "Come for me, cry for me babygirl."

His name came out barely understandable from your sobs. Your body was convinced your couldn't but Childe's voice told you different, so you came again, this time taking him with you over the edge. His thrusts didn't slow down, he wanted to keep you on that line of bliss for as long as he could, all night long if you'd allow him that honor.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #childe imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin smut #tartagalia x reader #tartaglia imagines #tartagalia smut

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 3: TXT bias wrecker - Kai✨️

Special delivery

AN: Honestly, my TXT bias list is a fucking mess right now but, I think Kai tentatively holds the position of bias wrecker (though Yeonjun has been yelling in my ear lately). Also, it's completely by accident that my two most recent TXT fics are porn genre/trope related lol. However, I had a lot of fun writing this and my Soobin fic so, maybe I'll explore more tropes, clichés etc with different idols in future fics.

Synopsis: Kai hates his job, but he needs to pay rent. However, when a ridiculously pretty woman can't pay him and offers up another form of payment, maybe it isn't all bad.

Heads up: Huening Kai x Fem! Reader, Pizza delivery man! Kai, strangers to strangers who fuck, the plot is virtually nonexistent, porn logic applies here, implied power dynamics (more dominant Reader and more submissive Kai), praise kink (m. receiving), hints of a size kink, oral sex (m. receiving), Reader touches herself while sucking Kai off, unprotected piv sex, nipple play (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 3199

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Today sucks. It's been hot as hell the entire day, two customers gave him shit for their orders being wrong and he got a text from his roommate that their shower broke. Again. Kai is at his wit's end.

He slams the door of the delivery car harder than strictly necessary but, he can't bring himself to even pretend to care right now. To say his day has been terrible would be a gross understatement. Luckily, he only had an hour left of his shift, and then he would be a free man. That's the single thought that pushes him forward. He can do this. Just one more hour.

He's about to knock on the door of his current delivery address again before it swings open. His words die on his tongue when he takes in the very attractive woman mere centimetres away from him with a robe that leaves very little to his imagination.

"Hi! I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer. I just hopped out of the shower. Just give me a minute and I'll go get my purse," You're gone before he can utter anything in response. Images of what he thinks you look like in the shower flood his mind without much prompting. He needs to get it together. He's a grown man. He shouldn't be getting hard just from fantasising about a stranger taking a shower. Especially not when he's fucking working.

"Oh shoot, I don't have any cash on me. Do you accept card by any chance?" You ask once you return, your head titling in a way that Kai finds far too endearing.

"Um no, Miss. Sorry," he tries not to visibly cringe at the shakiness evident in his voice.

"Damn. I don't know how else I could pay you," you ponder loud, crossing your arms. Which makes him panic because the motion just causes your tits to be even more visible through your poor excuse for a robe.

He's not sure if he's just that obvious or, you have knack for these situations but, you notice him looking. He really doesn't mean to. He just can't help it. Who could really blame him? They were right there.

Before he can't comprehend what's happening, you're in his personal bubble. Eyes that were warm and welcoming moments ago now light up with knowing amusement. Kai swallows.

"Well, I could always pay you another way if you'd like," you trail off.

Now, Kai may not be the best at reading these kinds of situations, but it's clear as day what you're offering.

He knows this is probably incredibly unethical. He knows he shouldn't even be considering what you're so blatantly suggesting, but you are pretty. He'd be lying to himself if he thought otherwise. Plus, it's been longer than he cares to admit since he's gotten any action, and here you are, offering yourself up to him willingly.

He'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," he whispers, and he's caught completely off guard when you practically launch yourself at him. Eager hands winding into his hair and soft lips pressing against his. Blood rushes south so quickly that it leaves him completely disoriented. Trying his best to meet your enthusiastic kisses before he realises he's still holding your pizza like an absolute buffoon.

"Hey, s-sorry. Can I put this down somewhere?" He cringes at himself, hoping his awkward interruption hadn't completely obliterated the mood.

"Oh right, sorry. I got a little carried away there," you respond with sheepish laugh, "You can just put it on the table over there."

Once his hands are free and, to his relief, you still want to continue, he hesitantly rests them on your hips. Losing himself in your expert kisses once more and groaning against you when you experimentally tug on his hair. Blood rushing to his face when he feels you smile against his lips at that.

His brain stops functioning all together when you press yourself closer to him. Soft tits against his broad chest, your arms wrapped firmly around his neck, and your stomach flush against his quickly growing erection. He can feel so much of you all at once, and it's not helping his already delicate resolve.

"You can touch me, you know," you say once you two remember that you need to breathe. Your eyes already heavy with such blatant want that it's honestly doing fantastic things for Kai's ego.

"I did-didn't want to go too far or make you uncomfortable,"

Your giggle is like music to his ears, "Considering that I'm going to let you fuck me, I think you're fine. That's very cute, though. Thanks for thinking about my comfort."

He's not sure if his cock twitches because you so casually mentioned letting him fuck you or because you called him cute but, either way, he takes your go ahead. Large hands grabbing generous handfuls of your ass and tits, respectively. Mind already growing foggy from how soft you feel and the kisses and nips you press to his jaw.

"You're so broad," he hears you mutter softly against his neck, shudders running down his spine from the sensation. He's sure his face is flushed from your words. No one's ever called him broad in this kind of situation, and from the way his head spins, he may be learning some things about himself today.

"Th-thank you," he stutters out, not entirely sure what to say in response and still trying to make sense of this realisation as your hands greedily run along his shoulders.

"You're too fucking cute," you groan, weaving one of your hands back into his hair and tugging him down into a messy kiss. At this point, Kai is more than happy to let you do whatever you want with him. Though, he supposes, it should be the other way around given the...circumstance he finds himself in.

He gasps into your mouth, fingers biting into your skin, when you palm him over his jeans. He's already so hard, and every bit of friction you allow him makes his knees buckle.

His grip on you tightens without much thought from him when you lavish his throat with licks and open-mouthed kisses once more. Your smaller hands toying with the belt of his jeans. Not quite seriously trying to unbuckle it, but just the brushes of your fingers so close to where his aching for you makes him feel dazed.

"Please," he whines, desire and embarrassment coiling tightly in his gut.

"Please what?" You ask, a mischievous gleam in your previously warm eyes. Fingers pushing up his shirt to trace nonsensical patterns on his abdomen. Kai thinks he's either going to scream or cry.

"Plea-please touch me," he whispers, trying his utmost not to grind himself into your hand.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," before he can blink, you're on your knees in front of him. Skillfully unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans.

"He-Hey, you don't ha-have to do that," he says quickly, piecing together through the fog of his mind what you're planning.

"I thought you wanted me to touch you?" You ask coyly and, fuck if the sight of you staring up at him with faux confused innocence doesn't make his cock twitch.

"I- yes, I do but, I didn't- you don't have to y'know if you don't want to,"

"What makes you think I don't want to?"

Oh. You've got a point there, he concedes.

"You should relax, cutie. I'm not doing anything I don't want to," Kai hates the way his cock jumps at the wink you have the audacity to send him while tugging down his boxers and jeans.

Relief fills him when he's finally free from the increasingly restrictive confines of his bottoms, but it's fast replaced with anxiety when you just...stare at him.

God, do you think it's ugly? Is it too small? Is it curved weird? Fuck, what if you-

"So pretty," he hears you barely whisper, lidded eyes becoming glossy as you wrap, or rather attempt to wrap, your hand around him. Between the compliment that leaves him completely blindsided and the slight pressure your hand provides, he can't help the whine that bubbles out of him and the jolt of his hips into your soft hold.

Kai feels his vision blur for a second when you take your first tentative lick of him. Pretty pink tongue curiously dragging along the underside of the head of his cock. That mischievous gleam is still present in your eye, and before his brain can catch up to what's happening, he finds himself enveloped in your warm, wet mouth.

His hands weave themselves into your hair instinctively. A broken, bordering on embarrassing, moan falling from his lips when he feels your throat constrict around him. Your hand stroking everything you can't fit in that sinful mouth of yours. He thought the feeling alone would drive him to madness, but the sounds of you gagging on him sends shudders down his spine. Hips shallowly fucking you as not to overwhelm you.

However, given how eagerly your choking on his dick, he doubts he could overwhelm you even if he tried.

He cracks his eyes open with much effort and immediately regrets the decision. Your pretty face is streaked with stray tears, and the combination of your spit and his pre-cum dribbles down your chin. If that wasn't bad enough already, he notices your unoccupied hand disappear between your thighs. His muddled mind taking longer than he cared to admit to understand what you're doing.

Holy fuck, are you touching yourself right now? Is this even real? Based on the circular motions he notices your hand making and moans that are being muffled by his dick down your throat, that pretty much confirms his suspicions.

"Wait shit fuck, st-stop," he stutters out, large hands gently tugging you off of his length before he makes a fool of himself and cums in your mouth.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, looking up at him. Fuck. He can barely look at you right now. Face smeared with tears, spit and his pre-cum. Your eyes a combination of concern and still barely restrained desire. He just hopes you don't notice his cock twitch then.

"Yeah, I just- I was close,"

Warmth floods his face when a smug grin spreads across your face.

"Oh? Why stop then? I'd gladly swallow anything you're willing to give me,"

Kai closes his eyes in an attempt to collect himself momentarily. Which turns out to be a terrible idea because his mind unhelpfully supplies images of his cum streaked across your face and your tongue. God.

"I'd rather cum somewhere else,"

He tries not to feel too proud of himself at the stunned look that crosses your pretty face. It feels good to leave you a little off kilter for once.

You laugh a little breathlessly as you make your way onto unsteady feet, "So you do know how to talk." He resents the way he flushes at your teasing.

His response dies on his tongue when you gently shove him back. He lands on your couch with a soft thud, looking up at you in question only to feel his tongue turn to lead in his mouth and his cock jump against his abdomen.

You shrug off your robe. Exposing your completely nude form to Kai and, he drinks you in. Taking in your breasts and the way they jiggle with every minute bit of movement from you, the slopes of your waist and hips until eventually he zeros in on your slick upper thighs. His blood turns molten. He can't quite see your pussy as clearly as he'd like to but, the streaks of wetness he can see on your thighs makes his head spin.

"You're staring," you tease, strutting over to him. He's not sure if the sway in your hips is just for him or not, but he couldn't care less. He's mesmerised.

"I can't help it. You're beautiful,"

You stop between his legs, and for a moment, he's terrified he went too far. Was calling you beautiful too much? God, why can he never get his foot out of his fucking mout-

He's pulled out of his anxious spiral by your smaller hands cupping his face. You smile at him and proceed to kiss him softly. Your thumb caressing his jaw as he finds himself lost in you once again.

"Thank you, cutie. You're really sweet," you mutter against his mouth, making yourself comfortable in his lap. Any line of thinking Kai had going is swiftly drop kicked out of his mind when he feels your pussy glide over his cock. Based on the way your hands fly to his broad shoulders and the little gasp that leaves you, he's not the only one affected.

He thinks he might lose his mind if you don't sink down on him immediately.

"Please," he whimpers, his hands making themselves at home on your hips.

"Since you asked so n-nicely," you respond with a devious smile. His heart rate continues to tick up when your hand grasps him and lines him up with your entrance.

Kai knows he's in trouble as soon as you begin to sink down onto him. His vision blurring slightly, and his hold on you quickly becoming bruising just from his tip being enveloped by your scorching, slick walls. The little strained whimpers and moans that slip from your lips only making it all worse.

It takes everything in him not to just shove you down onto him or snap his hips up until he's fully inside of you. However, he's not so far gone in his lust that he can't see that hints of discomfort on your pretty face. He pulls you down into a kiss in the hopes of providing some form of distraction. Long fingers reaching between your soft thighs, and he can't help that small smile that finds its way onto his face when you gasp into his mouth and clench around him.

He experiments with various speeds and patterns until he finds the one that cause you to moan into him and, more of your wetness to gush down his cock. "You're taking me so well," he mutters, half-delirious from how otherworldly you feel, and he isn't even fully inside of you yet.

He isn't prepared for you to so suddenly take him all at once. Needy hands tugging on his hair and watery cries of pleasure pressed into his mouth. Kai, for his part, his just trying not to cum from all of the unexpected sensations assaulting him at once. His fingers biting into the skin of your thighs as he fights to regain his composure. Closing his eyes and kissing you back to the best of his abilities while his cock throbs inside of your velvety walls. He's so fucked.

If anyone asks, he definitely doesn't whimper when you start to move. He definitely doesn't leave indents of his fingers on your skin from how tightly he's holding onto you. He definitely doesn't keep his eyes shut just so he doesn't cum in an instant from watching how your face contorts in pleasure for him, how your tits bounce and how your unreal pussy splits open to take him. Definitely not.

His attempt at concentration is disrupted when his ears catch a strangled cry from you, and you clamp down harshly around him. He cracks his eyes open and immediately wishes he hadn't.

The light from the setting sun hits you beautifully. Forming a halo around you as you continue to ride him. Your nimble fingers toying with your nipples and, based on the whines that fall from your devious mouth, they're pretty sensitive. He can't help the way his hips jolt up into at the vision you provide. Yeonjun had always teased him for being a bit of a romantic.

Instinct guides him. His arms coming to wrap around your waist as he fucks up into you. He wouldn't be shocked to find out his eyes had crossed from the depth this angle allows him. Eager mouth latching onto one of your tempting nipples. Groaning into your skin with every lick and suck and tug of the sensitive bud. Unadulterated lust guiding him all the way.

The symphony of skin slapping against skin and your wanton cries fill the space of your living room. Your hands are restless. Not quite sure if you want to tug on his hair or steady yourself on his broad shoulders. "So good. So de-deep," he manages to catch you whine, bordering on pathetic and that just motivates him to fuck you harder. Keeping you in place with his firm grip so you have no choice but to take all of him.

Between the way you tighten and spasm around him and the increasing pitch of your moans, Kai isn't sure how much longer he can last. Teeth nearly sinking into the flesh of your tits with how wound up he is and large hands drifting downwards to grab generous handfuls of your ass.

"I-I think I'm go-gonna cum," he moans out, "Sh-should I pu-pull out?"

Your hands move to cup his face so quickly that his foggy brain takes a few moments too long to even register it. Nails biting into his cheeks and your eyes blazing as they bore into his, "Don't you dare."

Kai couldn't have stopped himself from unravelling even if he wanted to.

He's practically crushes you to his larger frame while he remains completely sheathed inside of you. Ropes and ropes of his cum painting your walls white as he moans loudly, his chest heaving and flushed with exertion.

His disoriented eyes find your frenzied ones once he's able to crack them open. Your mouth shaped in a silent O and, it only hits him when he feels you clench harshly around his softening cock and more of your wetness gushes out of you of that you're cumming. The sting in his scalp is worth it as he takes in the way you fall to pieces on top of him. Eyes fluttering shut and your body convulsing. He tries his best to soothe you through it. Pressing gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. Large hands rubbing your thighs gently.

He rests against your couch when you eventually sag against him. Laboured breaths hitting the skin of his neck where you've made yourself comfortable. A combination of your releases beginning to trickle out of you and, down his spent cock and balls.

The silence is more comfortable than he anticipates. Neither of you feeling the need to fill it while you gain your bearings.

A thought hits Kai, and he panics. Feeling like the biggest piece of shit on the face of the Earth.

"What's wrong?" You mutter, fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of his hair.

"I never asked you for your name,"

Your giggle could easily be mistaken for windchimes, "Oh, is that all? It's Y/n. What's yours?"

"It-it's Kai."

"It's nice to be properly introduced to you, Kai," you respond with a dizzying smile.

Yeah, maybe today isn't all bad after all.

#hueningkai smut #huening kai smut #kai smut #txt smut #1k followers celebration day 3 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

[xpao-bearx]

This is dedicated to the absolutely beautiful hooman bean @basketobread 💕 They are truly one of the best people I've EVER met and has such a kind, wonderful heart!!! Furthermore, all of their artworks are literal ✨️MASTERPIECES✨️ They and their works are a constant source of joy for me and I just got inspired to write this very short, very simple fic of my BG3 Tav and their much beloved character Lunara meeting 🥰 It's not much, but I hope y'all like it and I hope even more that I did Lunara's amazing character justice! This is also my first time writing my Tav in a story format so it's great practice and an opportunity to flesh her out more before I post my fic of her and Astarion :)

More about my Tav here + this is the song she's singing in this story (and fun fact: I headcanon the singer to be my Tav's voiceclaim!) ❤️

Fic is under the cut and thanks sooo much for reading!! \(^o^)/

Darkness consumed the drow cleric's entire visage. A darkness that reminded her of her past in the Underdark; a waking nightmare she miraculously escaped, forging a path of her own, under the light and guidance of her Lady of Silver.

But this time, she feared that this smothering darkness would be...permanent. She could feel herself blinking, yet only blackest black and the stinging prick of her tears greeted her. She felt the ground beneath her and she doesn't think she broke any bones--or so she hopes--but she couldn't move. There was a looming heaviness in her chest and ice gripping at her heart.

Is she...dying? Eyes fluttering shut, she's resigned to her paralysis, but has not given up hope.

Because fuck that, she's most definitely not a quitter.

"M-My Lady of S-Silver..." She murmured, weak in physique but ever strong in her faith. "P-Please watch o-over me, h-help me overcome..."

She hasn't the faintest clue how long she stayed like that, strengthening herself in prayer, though eventually her ears perked up at the sound of...footsteps?

Something--or, rather, someone--sat next to her. She heard some shuffling then the soft strum of a lyre being played and a beautiful, soothing voice reverberating in her head.

"Flower, gleam and glow

Let your power shine

Make the clock reverse

Bring back what once was mine"

As the mystery songstress continued, she could feel power coursing through her veins, slowly but surely. She blinked once more and faint spots of light danced amidst the shadows.

"Heal what has been hurt

Change the Fates' design

Save what has been lost

Bring back what once was mine

What once was mine"

She felt her fingers twitching, toes wiggling; and, like a flower blossoming, she rose. She let out a sharp gasp as she sat up, chest still heavy but not as excruciating as it was before.

She's alive.

She blinked rapidly, perfect vision returning. She had hardly a moment to gather her bearings when someone's voice rang excitedly.

"Holy hells! I'm so glad you weren't, like, completely dead! Good thing I saw you just in time!"

Her gaze landed on the young woman before her. A half-drow with a smile as bright as the sun and mismatched eyes (one, she noticed, being a rather unusual blood red with a prominent scar across it). She was pretty--ahem, very pretty, might she add--but looked worse for wear. Something she was sure she looked, too.

Before either of them could say anything else, a migraine hit them both like a spiked club. They both cradled their heads in their hands, fragments of a hellish nautiloid swirling in their minds, waiting for the pain to pass and their eyes meeting in recognition.

When it finally did, the stranger piped up once more.

"Oh, wow, we're parasite pals!"

Despite the situation of it all, she laughed. A welcoming warmth radiated from the strange stranger, enveloping her and easing the tension of all of today's utter bullshit. From being kidnapped by godsdamned Mind Flayers to being infected by a disgusting parasite, she laughed and felt comforted that, at the very least, she was not alone.

"Indeed we are!" She grinned before holding her hand out. "Thank you so, so much for saving me! My name is Lunara and you are..?"

The stranger beamed, shaking Lunara's hand and her other hand making a theatrical waving gesture. "Mon'sun, at your service, fair maiden! Perhaps you've heard of me, perhaps not. The tale of my titillating life is still being written, you see~"

'Ehe. TIT-illating.' Lunara thought to herself, letting out a small chuckle before clearing her throat. She was a toootally mature adult, after all.

"Well, Mon'sun, Selûne's blessings upon you!" Lunara did a half bow, mimicking Mon'sun's theatrics which Mon'sun definitely approved of. "Besides your incredibly kind and gracious act of saving me, I'm positive my Lady of Silver led you here for a reason. What say you we band together and find a cure for this parasite?"

"Oho, asking to team up so fast? I would say take me out to dinner first, but I'm pretty easy sooo..." She joked, making a show of thinking before gasping dramatically, pretending to cry tears of joy. "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

Lunara just as dramatically placed a hand over her heart, sniffling. "Thank you! I promise to make you a happy woman!"

As they both stood up chattering and laughing away, preparing for the thrill of adventure ahead, Lunara noticed she was missing her coin pouch.

"Have you seen my coin pouch? I could've sworn I had it tied tightly around my waist, so there's no way it could've fallen off after the nautiloid crash." Lunara questioned as her purple eyes darted around their surroundings, ash and smoke rising from all the debris.

"Perhaps it burned away from the flames of the crash." Mon'sun replied smoothly, helping Lunara seek for her humble riches.

(Pssst, Mon'sun is lying and has Lunara's pouch in her pack, but she rolled a Nat 20 on ✨️deception✨️ sooo...)

"Well, nevermind then!" Lunara shrugged, smiling. "I'm sure our Lady of Silver will grant us great blessings for our journey. In fact, she has already bestowed upon me a most wonderful blessing in the form of a kind, trustworthy new friend!"

Narrator: *As the two drow kin embark on their perilous quest to free themselves of their parasites, a haunting voice echoes deep within the recesses of Mon'sun's mind; her own parasite. One of a different, godly breed taunting her--tormenting her.*

"Do you wish to find comfort in the presence of another inferior god, spiderling?" Lolth cackled, cruel music flooding Mon'sun's ears, vicious mockery only she can hear. "Such foolishness will only bring about disappointment...much like your new companion. But I am here, spiderling. Always watching. It is only a matter of TIME for you to bathe in her blood."

Mon'sun abruptly stopped in her tracks, shutting her eyes tight, nails digging into the palms of her hands that nearly drew blood as she willed the spider goddess to not so kindly fuck off. She was used to this by now, the lure of Lolth's appalling temptations always merciless, sickening, and...gratifying.

But no. She will never ever give in. Absolutely fucking NOT!

"Are you alright, Mon'sun?"

Mon'sun's eyes snapped open, sweat beading down her temple and wide, frantic eyes landing on Lunara, a few feet in front of her staring at her in concern.

"...I forgot!" A beat too late, a beat too nervous. But thankfully, Lunara didn't seem to notice it, only watching in curiousity as Mon'sun rummaged through her pack that was literally ripping off the seams.

Mon'sun then procured a small purple pouch, smiling sheepishly as she handed it to Lunara.

"Apologies, friend. I stole picked this up earlier and just remembered it now. This must be yours, yes?"

Lunara caught Mon'sun completely off guard when she launched herself at the other girl, wrapping her arms around Mon'sun.

"Oh, our Lady of Silver truly blesses me! Thank you, friend, your kindness knows no bounds!" Lunara giggled.

Mon'sun was still for a few moments before returning the embrace, laying her head against Lunara's chest. Her bardic ear listened close, the faint thrum of Lunara's heartbeat--as lovely as its owner--lulling her to a wonderful sense of security.

No matter how temporary.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Gifts for Bob #Lunara Posting #Mon'sun

[blueraineshadows]

Blood Bound Part 6

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Sebastian is struggling with his demons whilst Leander whisks MC away somewhere safe so she can recuperate.

13.2k words. Tags: NSFW / sexual tension / angst / hurt-comfort / alcohol use / mental health struggles / pining

Mutual tag list at the end ✨️ Chapter Master List and Ao3 link

Six: In the Shadow of Loneliness

MC

The little house felt different without Leander present. MC moved slowly about the space, almost afraid to touch anything because nothing belonged to her. It was unfamiliar, and she felt like an imposter, almost as though she didn't deserve such comforts. Sitting within the softness of the settee cushions felt odd, and she struggled to relax, but that might have been the smug faced Auror who was here to watch over her more than the plush cushions. 

McKinnon had arrived looking fresh-faced and ready to irritate, all smiles for Leander as he prepared to leave and meet with Harrington. MC had remained distant and close lipped around the self-assured Auror, watching her with stolen glances as she sat at the table to read through some files she had brought with her. It was hard not to envy the healthy glow of her skin and the luscious shine of her hair, the pretty curve of her mouth that might place kisses on Leander one day. The very idea of that made MC huff a sigh and look away, pulling books off a shelf and opening them, but not reading a word. 

After a quiet, tense meal of soup and bread, MC had retreated to the sanctuary of the bedroom, where she had sat on the floor in the corner and watched the flicker of the flames dance in the hearth. It was the only light she allowed in the room, and she was fascinated at the sight, her eyes learning to appreciate the warm colours after so long in muted darkness. 

How she craved and yet remained wary of warmth, her hand reaching out towards the dancing flames, feeling the heat. Too close, and she would burn. It was too similar to the ache of needing some kind of physical comfort. She wanted arms to hold her and convince her that things would be alright. The cavern in her chest yawned with such clarity, the aching loneliness seemingly spreading outwards and into her limbs. Despite the comfort provided to her, she felt numb and empty. At least she could take some relief from the sanctuary of darkness that the evening had provided. She could hide in the shadows.

Seeking reassurance in the caress of her scar on her palm, MC fought the drowsiness that plagued her eyes. Leander had told her to sleep, but that meant letting down her guard, and McKinnon was on the other side of the door. She didn't trust her. Not only that, but the bed loomed huge and soft, a tempting trap that felt undeserved. She wasn't ready to explore it yet after four years of sleeping on stone, preferring the familiar feel of the floor beneath her bones.

To keep focused, she held out a hand, flexing fingers that already felt stronger from the potions and elixirs given to her by the kindly Healer. She could feel the subtle glow of energy that warm food provided and channelled it, holding up her fingers and concentrating on the tips as she pulled on her magic. The draw of it was almost sweet relief, and after a few moments of trying, a tiny flicker of bluish white teased at the end of her fingers before snuffing out. 

Slumping forward after her efforts, her hand dropping into her lap, she felt drained and shaky, but a smile lifted her lips. She had managed to manifest a wisp of ancient magic. With practice and continued efforts to build her strength, she should be able to conjure more. 

As the evening drew on, a chill began to seep into the house, the soft sigh of the wind whistling through the eaves. It was soothing compared to the constant wails of misery in Azkaban. MC felt sleep creeping over her and gave in to the temptation of the tartan woollen blanket folded neatly on a chair, giving in to the exhaustion. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she curled up on the rug before the fire and dozed, restless and fretful as she tried to get used to the peaceful quiet. 

….*....

Blinking in confusion, MC sat up from the floor, a constricting band of panic tightening around her chest as she gazed bleary-eyed around the bedroom. It took a moment to remember where she was, the darkness making the furniture appear like hulking beasts, the fire burned down to embers in the grate. She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her, the sound of urgent voices making her turn towards the door. 

Wariness slid through her bones as she listened, picking out the tones of McKinnon’s exasperated speech, and then she heard the softer tones of Leander and took a steadying breath. He was back. 

A sharp rap on the door made her freeze, her eyes fixed on the wood. “MC, are you decent?” 

Leander’s muffled question had her scrambling to her feet, throwing off the blanket onto the chair and tucking her hair behind her ears. She cleared her throat, adjusting her blouse. 

“Come in!” 

The door opened, and Leander stepped into the room, her mouth dropping open at the split skin above his eye, blood smeared across his temple. Her stomach twisted, and she stepped forward. “You're hurt…” 

“Don't worry, I'm fine,” he insisted, waving her off. His eyes scanned her quickly, eyes bright with concern. “Are you alright?” 

“Of course,” she said, confused, her gaze drifting towards where McKinnon was standing behind him with her arms folded. “What is it? What happened?”

“I told you everything was as it should be,” McKinnon frowned. “You are worrying for nothing. This house has secure wards.” 

“Perhaps, but that’s not the issue here. The safe house could be compromised,” Leander said, moving to gently take MC’s elbow. MC stared up at him, her heart rate speeding up as he guided her towards the wardrobe. He met her gaze and tried to smile. “Don't worry. It will be alright. I just need to get you out of here.” 

McKinnon’s eyes bulged. “Compromised? How? Where are you taking her?” 

Leander opened the wardrobe and pulled out a travelling bag, and thrust it into MC’s hands. She grasped it, her eyes wide as his thumb grazed her cheek with his trademark softness. “It's okay. I just need you to pack whatever clothes you want. Enough for a few days at least, and help yourself to some books, and whatever you need from the dressing table.” 

“What's happened?” She croaked, her limbs frozen in panic. They were leaving here? So soon? 

“I will explain, I promise,” he said, turning to Odessa. “You need to head back to the office. Harrington is calling a meeting with all Aurors involved with the case. There has been a development.” 

“What kind of development?” McKinnon asked, her eyes narrowing as she glanced towards MC. “Where are you taking her?” 

“I can't say,” Leander said, shaking his head. “Harrington’s orders.” 

MC watched as Leander marched out into the main room, McKinnon quick at his heels, her face unamused at being brushed off like that. They began to bicker, her demands to know what had happened being pushed back with replies that were becoming colder and more clipped the more she pushed him. Moving closer towards the door, MC couldn't help but notice how calmly Leander managed McKinnon as he gathered up the files and put them in a bag of his own, adding her potions and some other things from the kitchen side. 

For someone usually easily flustered, he was coping well under whatever pressure he was experiencing, ignoring what must have been a painful wound on his brow. Perhaps it was unwise to underestimate him.

Despite her own panic and curiosity, MC did as she was asked, her fingers shaking as she pulled blouses and jumpers from the wardrobe. Ignoring the skirts, she took the trousers, a sleep shirt, and some underwear, stuffing them all into the bag. 

Her eyes scanned the room before dropping down to the neatly made bed, her fingers brushing against the soft blankets that had been placed there for her benefit. She hadn't had the chance to grow attached to any of it, and yet her chest was unbearably tight at the thought of leaving these walls, going outside again to somewhere unknown. Clutching the bag against her, she wandered out to where McKinnon stood fuming by the table as Leander added a bread loaf wrapped in muslin cloth to his bag, and then he shut it. He lifted his eyes towards MC. “Are you ready?” 

MC nodded, slightly uncertain. Leander strode towards her and wrapped his arm about her waist, moving with assured confidence that helped to steady MC’s nervous flutter. 

“You can't just disappear with a prisoner without an explanation!” McKinnon protested, stepping forwards. 

“She isn't a prisoner. Not anymore,” Leander said firmly, and MC leant her head against his chest, the move almost possessive as she eyed the frustrated Auror. He held her tighter, his gaze determined as he looked at McKinnon. “Report to Harrington. I'll see you soon.” 

The last thing MC saw was McKinnon’s look of outrage before the world spun out of focus in a whirl of dizzying black. As her feet landed onto tufts of wild grass, a strong gust of wind stole her breath and left her gasping, her fingers clutching at Leander’s robes as they gained their footing. 

The wind carried the salty tang of the sea, and the sound of waves crashing filled her ears. MC gulped to catch her breath, the sound and scent reminiscent of the surroundings at Azkaban, the panic in her chest tightening as she gazed wildly about in the dark expecting to see towering black stone and feel the terror. 

There was no terror. Only the soughing of the sea winds and no stone tower looming over her, just a staggering expanse of coastline. A sliver of moon was peeking through the sliding trails of clouds that drifted across a sky littered with stars, the huge expanse of the ocean spread out before them. Turning her head, her gaze fell upon the shadowed undulation of a rugged cliff edge, wild heathland stretching for miles. It was so open and desolate, the only notable thing being a quaint house nestled within a garden surrounded by a rough stone wall.

“Where are we?” She asked, the words ripped from her mouth by the wind. Her hair was lifted and tossed about her face, her blouse fluttering against her thin body. She shivered, and Leander gave her a reassuring squeeze before shifting to take her bag from her, adjusting his own on his shoulder. 

“We are near the village of Tinworth, in Cornwall. This is Shell Cottage. It belongs to my family. Come on, let’s get you inside before you get too cold. You didn’t even put on your robe.”

“I didn’t know I had one,” she mumbled, holding on to his arm as he led her towards the little house.

As they drew nearer, Leander opened the little gate and guided her down a paved pathway, the last of any summer blooms bobbing in the sea breeze. MC noticed that the white washed walls were covered in seashells of all types, and she could see how the house had got its name. As Leander pulled out his wand to unlock the door, she touched her fingers to the shells, smoothing over the weathered surfaces of them before throwing one last look over her shoulder towards the inky, dark ocean. At another time, she might have found joy in such a place, the quaintness of it charming her, but the numbness and uncertainty robbed her of that.

Entering the cottage, MC began to shiver harder, her teeth chattering as Leander swiftly lit lamps and used Incendio to light a fire in the hearth. The furniture was mostly weathered looking wood, the soft furnishings in colours of blues and sea greens with touches of white. Bookcases were loaded with leather bound tomes, and larger shells and driftwood sat on shelves. A doorway opened up onto a kitchen with a table, a wooden switch back staircase led up to what must be bedrooms, and there were painted pictures of seascapes hung on the walls.

Dropping the bags to the floor, Leander pulled a blanket from an armchair and wrapped it around her, rubbing her arms and urging her towards a high backed chair by the hearth. “Sit yourself near the fire, MC. I will make some tea,” he said. “I will need to fetch some water from the pump outside, but I won’t be long.”

“Are we safe here?” She asked, looking up at him. “What happened to you?”

Urging her to sit in the chair, he crouched down before her, taking one of her hands in his own and rubbing it in an attempt to warm her. 

“I couldn't risk you staying at the safe house,” he said gravely. “It would appear there might be a leak in our office. Nobody is supposed to know that you are out of Azkaban yet, but it seems some people have heard, and we don't know how. That's why I couldn't tell McKinnon anything. Nobody can know where you are until Harrington has investigated. It could jeopardise the whole plan of you going undercover.” 

MC stiffened, her breath shaking with each shiver that racked through her. “Would I have to go back to Azkaban?” 

Leander shook his head. “This isn't your fault, and I am determined to not let that happen.”

MC glanced around the house, the flutter of nerves in her chest rattling against her ribs. “Is this another safe house?” 

“This place is protected by the Fidelius charm, and my father is the Secret Keeper. My family are the only ones who know where this is, and they only visit here in the summer months. The only way a person can find out about this place is if my father tells them, or one of us brings someone here by choice. Like I have just done with you. Even though you know of it’s existence, you won’t be able to tell anyone about it, not even if they use magic or torture you. This is the safest place you could be right now.”

He had promised to be truthful with her, and so far he seemed to be doing just that. She studied him carefully, the feeling of being like a wisp of air, groundless and floating aimlessly, still clung to her. He was her anchor right now, and without him, all of this would be utter madness. She still wasn’t wholly convinced that this wasn't a dream, but she had to get a grip on this reality somehow, especially if there was danger involved. 

Lifting a trembling hand, she pushed back a few strands of hair that the wind had blown loose from his usual neat style, her touch lingering near the split skin on his brow. She studied the wound, noticing that it had stopped bleeding, but the shadow of bruising was beginning to show around his eye socket. She knew a black eye when she saw one. She had seen her fair share of fist fights growing up in a home for abandoned children. Carefully, she touched near his eye with gentle fingers. “What happened, Leander? Who hit you?”

The question made him lower his gaze, his teeth catching at his full bottom lip. He smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand and sighed. “I got into a fight down in the pits,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Two Aurors in Dark Wizard territory was probably not the best idea, but at least we got to see how things are down there.”

“What was it like down there?” She asked, her hand drifting away from his face to lay over his, their hands now piled together in her lap.

“Brutal,” he said, shaking his head. “Although, it was a lot more organised than I was expecting, and there was a large crowd of spectators. There were key members of Rookwood’s gang present, so if we want to get you noticed, the pits would work. I’m not sure I like the idea of you fighting down there, though.”

A tinge of pink flushed his cheeks, and he held her hand tighter, drawing the ghost of a smile to her lips. 

“You’ve never seen me fight with ancient magic, Lee,” she said. “I couldn’t use it in Crossed Wands. It was too powerful, and Professor Fig thought it best that I kept it out of the classrooms. If the pit is where I need to go in order to help you, then that’s where I will go. I just need my wand.”

“We need to get you fighting fit first,” he said, lifting a hand to squeeze at her upper arm. “A few more good meals and restoration potions are in order before we start on the training.”

“Training?” Her brow furrowed.

“You’re out of practice, MC. You can barely walk the length of Azkaban without being out of breath,” he smirked. “If I’m going to send you into that snake pit, then you’re going down there fully equipped to deal with whatever they throw at you. We can start preparations tomorrow. Now, how about that tea?”

As he moved to stand, she grabbed his hands, halting him before he could step away. “I’ll do you a deal. You make the tea, and then I will clean up your wound. Is there any Dittany in the house? Or maybe some Wiggenweld?”

“There might be some potion supplies in the kitchen. There is a cauldron, so we could always brew some up,” he replied. He looked down at their joined hands, his cheeks colouring up again. “Will you be alright while I fetch us some water?”

She nodded and let his hands go, watching as he fetched the bucket and went outside to fill it. She wondered how he had found out about the leak in his office. Who had told him? That thump to his face was part of it, she just knew it. There was likely more to his story, but for now, she didn't want to sit here worrying and doing nothing. 

The kitchen had a stove and a sink, shelves with pots and pans, and wooden cupboards. A bench worktop held a cauldron, and she moved to inspect the shelf above it filled with various jars of ingredients. There was even a box of matches so she could light the flame under the burner. Finding what she needed for Wiggenweld, she got to work. 

It was surprising how quickly it all came back to her after so long. It felt good to be busy, weighing out the ingredients and adding them to the cauldron. When Leander returned with the water, heaving the full bucket towards the sink, she flashed him a smile. 

“You didn't have to do that, you know,” he said, adding water to the kettle. He touched his fingers to his head. “It doesn't feel all that bad.” 

MC shook her head and began to grind dittany in a pestle and mortar, adding some elixir to form a paste. “I insist,” she said, ignoring the way her arms felt tired grinding the ingredients. Leander was right. She did need to get stronger. 

“Take a seat at the table,” she said, gesturing to a chair. He removed the kettle from the stove and did as she asked.

MC took the bowl of dittany salve and stood beside him, taking another look at his wound. Deciding to clean it first, she gathered a cloth and took some of the heated water, dabbing carefully to remove the dried blood. Leander winced but didn't pull away, his eyes lifting to meet hers. 

“You have a surprisingly gentle touch, prisoner 2757,” he grinned. 

“I thought you said I wasn't a prisoner anymore,” she countered, fighting a smile of her own. 

This close, she could see the little flecks of gold in the soft brown of his eyes. As she carefully cleaned him up, her gaze kept returning to his until she began to feel warmth gathering on her cheeks. They were completely alone here together, unchaperoned. It was confusing how that made her pulse start to race, her breathing shifting as she tried to focus on her task. 

“This might sting,” she said softly, using a finger to scoop up some paste and dab gently onto his wound. 

Leander closed his eyes and bit his lip as she worked, covering the damaged skin with the paste, her attention drawn to the way his long, copper lashes fluttered against his cheeks. She could feel the warmth from his skin and remembered how it felt to be held against the solidity of his chest. The numb feeling behind her ribs began to ease, a shard of warmth creeping in as she let her eyes wander along the clean cut of his jaw and the fullness of his mouth. 

Licking her lips, she felt a bit ashamed of the way she was looking at him. It wasn't entirely proper, and yet a deep and very desperate part of her yearned to touch him, to feel his warmth under her fingertips. He had swiftly become the centre of her world recently, and the fear that he might slip out of reach was all too real. 

But, she couldn't give him what he deserved. The memory of how he had looked at her in her cell that day before he had said goodbye, that desperate glaze in his eyes as he confessed that he would do anything for her, despite knowing that she would go back to Sebastian one day. 

There lay the truth. Sebastian. 

Steadying her breathing, MC pushed back on the intrusive thoughts that made her eyes linger on Leander’s mouth far longer than was appropriate and hauled up the shields around the aching hole in her chest. 

“There, that should do it,” she said, avoiding his gaze as she gathered up the bowl and her cloth. “The potion should be done soon, too, and then you will be as good as new.”

“Thank you,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

Her heart thudded behind her ribs as she smiled back, tearing her gaze away from him as she began to tidy the potion things away. The tremble in her hands was because she was cold, she told herself. It had nothing to do with the tall, soft hearted Auror sitting at the kitchen table. It was a whole new kind of danger to open that particular chest of questions. 

Sebastian

The pounding behind his eyes was distracting, his stomach felt like it was tipping from side to side, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and sleep off this rotten hangover. However, Rookwood had summoned him like some kind of puppy dog, and now he was in the back room of The Black Rose with Rookwood, Carrow, and Luella, leaning against the wall watching Black Dahlia make her excuses. His mouth was clamped tightly shut against the roll of nausea that was plaguing him, but also to stop the rage from bursting out through his lips. Every word that slithered from this bitch’s mouth made his skin crawl.

“These are heavy demands you’re placing on me, Rookwood,” she said coolly, her hood casting shadows over her nondescript face. “I have told you what I can, for now. Anything more will mean a higher price. The Auror Office is suspicious of a leak, which makes my task all the harder.”

Black Dahlia threw a cool look his way, and Sebastian slid his fingers along the handle of his wand in its holster. His own gaze narrowed, daring her to try him. He was not in the mood for her games. Not since MC's cell had turned up empty, and Prewett had almost gotten to him down in the pit last night. 

Carrow folded his arms, his hard face unimpressed as he flicked his gaze over her. “Yeah, yeah, we know. You’re a greedy bitch,” he drawled. “It’s not exactly a shock that MC is weak and unstable either. Nobody walks out of Azkaban singing and dancing. Tell us something we don’t know, like where the fuck she is.”

Black Dahlia shrugged. “I have no idea where she is. One of the Aurors took her to an undisclosed location. I’m sure she will turn up eventually.”

“Would this be the Auror that Sallow knows?” Rookwood asked. 

“I’d bet my last galleon on it,” Sebastian muttered bitterly.

“Yes, well, whatever schoolboy squabbles you have going on are of little interest to me,” Black Dahlia said, her smirk beyond irritating. “Give me two days to see what I can gather for you.”

“You sent me into Azkaban to get a prisoner that had already been taken out,” Sebastian seethed, his hand fisting in frustration. “I’m surprised you weren’t lurking in the shadows, ready to throw me behind the iron door of MC’s cell in her place.”

“A tempting thought, Mr Sallow,” she said, her eyes lighting up in amusement. “Look, I sent you off in good faith. I found out about her pardon too late. I do apologise, my dear. You must have had your hopes pinned on seeing her again after all these years.”

Three sets of eyes swung in his direction. Rookwood and Carrow were staring at him with cool curiosity, but Luella was glaring, her mouth tight and her eyes hard. Sebastian clenched his jaw, his fury bubbling just under the surface, his hand now gripping the handle of his wand.

“You’re lucky I’m not burning the tongue from your mouth,” he hissed coldly, his rage like ice as a black veil cloaked his mind. “Whatever charm you cast to hide your identity won’t mean shit if you can’t talk. No more pretty gifts for you, little miss brown eyes, not when you can’t whisper your betrayals. I know I’ve seen you somewhere before, and I’m going to remember where one day. Trust me.”

For the first time, he saw a flicker of fear cross her face, the sight satisfying in a grim way. For good measure, he slipped his wand from its holster and twirled it slowly in his hands as he glared at her. Carrow let out a cold chuckle and shook his head, throwing a look of amusement towards Rookwood, who was thoughtfully stroking his chin. 

“Two days,” Rookwood said. “Come back with decent information in two days, and you shall be rewarded. Let me down again, and I might just let Sallow carry out his threat. You’re only as useful as the information you provide, and right now, you have nothing that I can use.”

“I won’t let you down again,” she assured, bowing her head slightly.

“Good,” Rookwood smiled, the coldness of it making his eyes like chips of ice. “Now, get out of my sight.”

As Sebastian finally made his way down the hallway towards the bar, his head thumping with sickening throbs, he heard the tap of heeled boots following him. A hand caught his elbow, and he reluctantly came to a stop, his eyes swinging to meet with a pair of determined blue ones. 

“Where are you slinking off to?” Luella asked, one eyebrow raised. “We need to talk.” 

Sebastian groaned and rolled his eyes. “Not now, Luella. I've got a raging headache.”

She wasn't amused or in any way sympathetic. “That would be the amount of whiskey you've been drowning yourself in,” she huffed, folding her arms. “You're a shitty drunk, Sebastian. I don't like it.” 

“I don't remember needing your permission, darling,” he quipped, continuing on down the hallway. 

She uttered an indignant huff and marched after him, grabbing his arm again. His temper was on a very short leash, and he yanked his arm free, a dark scowl shadowing his face as he glared at her. 

“What do you want, Luella? Like I said, now is not the time to push me,” he growled. 

She stared back at him, unflinching. “You haven't called me Luella in months,” she said, her voice low. “Something has changed, but you haven't clued me in. What's going on, Seb? You keep pushing me away and biting my head off. What's changed? Is it this prisoner wench? You're awfully angry that she is missing.” 

Sebastian stared at her. She was a beautiful girl, any fool could see that, but she was smart too. It was one of the things he liked about her. But, she wasn't MC. Sex was just sex, you could do that with anyone. Nobody would ever get under his skin like MC did. Luella would never understand why he felt such despair and rage that MC was missing, and he would never tell her either. He wasn't in the habit of letting people get too close, not when he was so good at losing them. 

“I don't like failure,” he hissed, and he wasn't lying either. He hated failure and berated himself daily for past mistakes. “I didn't get the job done.”

She narrowed her gaze, watching him carefully. “Either you have a diabolical plan for revenge, or this girl means more to you than you're letting on. Whatever is going on with you, if you disrupt Father's plans, he will not take kindly to it.” 

The irony of her words tickled him. It was both. He chuckled, reaching to catch hold of her chin. Her blue eyes flared as she looked up at him, a faint blush of pink colouring her cheeks as he bent forwards, his mouth inches from hers. She was waiting for his kiss. It was hard to deny the rush of smug satisfaction it gave him to know that he could still entice her. 

“Don't worry,” he murmured, careful to keep the contempt out of his eyes. “I don't need you to remind me about Daddy's little temper. Maybe you ought to tread carefully yourself. Keep fluttering your eyelashes at me the way you do, and Daddy is going to realise I've been slipping it to his baby girl. How kindly do you think he will take that piece of news, hmm?” 

Screwing her face up in disgust, she shoved him away, making him stumble back against the wall. “You're disgusting,” she said through gritted teeth. 

He laughed and rubbed his face with his hands. “I thought that's what you liked about me, darling.” 

She gaped at him, and then growled in frustration, throwing her hands up in the air before storming off down the hallway, muttering about him being a prick under her breath. 

Sebastian watched her go, the hard mask slipping from his face, the darker sadness flickering in his gaze for a moment before he hung his head. He closed his eyes and swallowed down the bitter distaste his words had left on his tongue. If his mother knew how he spoke to women like that she would cuff him round the ear. His cheeks flooded with shame and he pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. 

Who was he becoming? This dark, bitter, and twisted version of himself was not someone he liked, and yet he seemed to be around more often lately. The burn for more whiskey clung to his throat, the need to obliterate the dark thoughts that crept in the corners of his mind felt like a cunning temptress luring him on. 

No. Drink was not the answer. Solomon had been one for hitting the whiskey on his darkest days. His fists were always harder on those nights, and Sebastian would never forget it. He did not want to be like his uncle. 

He wished he had some place he could go when things got this bad, when the shadows clung so tightly, and he feared he might cease to draw breath through the tightness of his throat. Sometimes he wondered if he was losing himself, the shadows stealing away all that he was, like a rattling Dememtor coming to suck out all that was good inside. It had never been the plan to become the bad man. When he had been a child, it had not been the dream to stalk in darkness, killing and torturing until he no longer knew the feel of warmth.

It was lonely.

Leaving the pub, he stepped out into the muted light of Knockturn Alley, the smog of Victorian London beginning to thicken, choking out the life and sound of the old city. Wandering aimlessly, he found himself down near the Thames as the sun bled its last colours across the horizon. He watched the ebb and flow of the tide, ships passing on their journeys up and down the river.

With his hands in his pockets, he stared up at the first weak glimmer of stars, their beauty choked out by the smog and filth of the city. He missed the huge skies of the Highlands and the fresh breezes that would come down off the mountains. Homesick for something that didn’t exist anymore, and aching with a loneliness that felt deeper than his bones, he wondered where MC was tonight.

Leander

Morning sunlight shone through the kitchen window, warming his back as Leander sat at the table with his case file open before him. He sipped at his tea, reviewing the information, Harrington’s latest owl letter folded neatly beside him. It had been two days since he had brought MC to Shell Cottage, and he hadn't been back to London since. He had remained by her side, making sure she ate properly and took her potions, watching with a concerned frown as she sat curled up on the window seat for hours with her arms wrapped about her legs. She was so very quiet.

The harsh lines of her bones were disappearing, replaced with softness, her skin still pale but no longer waxen looking. She was less like a wraith, and more like the girl he remembered. Apart from her eyes. Those were still shadowed with memory and ghosts as she gazed through the window panes towards the ocean, the sadness on her face making him ache. He wished he could take it from her, lift the clouds that hung heavy over her soul, but that was only something she could control. All he could do was be here if she needed him, and he hoped maybe that could be enough. 

Pulled from his thoughts by the creak of the wooden stairs, he looked up as MC appeared in the kitchen doorway dressed in a white blouse and dark trousers, her hair long and loose about her shoulders. Her tresses shone in the sunlight, her smile soft as she came to join him at the table. 

“Good morning,” she said, sliding out a chair. “Is there any tea left in the pot?”

“How did you sleep?” He asked, standing to fetch the teapot from the counter top, noting the darkness under her eyes.

Her gaze dipped downwards as he placed a cup and saucer before her, along with two healing and restoring potions. He knew she didn't sleep well. He heard her pacing the floors, and a few times, he'd heard her muffled cries and sobbing. The urge to get up and check on her was fierce, but he forced himself to remain in his own bed, worried that entering her bedroom would stir the tension that seemed to linger between them. 

“I'm sure I will settle eventually,” she mumbled, thanking him for the tea and wrapping her hands around the cup. “I'm still not sure what my new normal is supposed to be.”

“Maybe getting a start on our next steps might help. I thought that we could go over some details this morning,” he said, sitting back down. He patted the paperwork before him. “I've got some information on Rookwood’s gang members here that will help you when it comes time to infiltrate their ranks. Are you up for that?”

“Let's do it,” she nodded. 

Leander sifted through the parchments and pulled out two profiles, reaching to place them before MC. “Amos Carrow and Marvolo Gaunt,” he said, watching her carefully. 

MC slowly let go of her cup and picked up Marvolo's parchment, her eyes fixed on his moving photograph, her lips slightly parted. “My goodness,” she breathed. “He doesn't look much like Ominis, except perhaps the cheekbones.” 

“Marvolo is Ominis' older brother. He has business dealings in London and spends a lot of time with Carrow,” Leander said. “Carrow seems to be in charge of the Ashwinders in the capital. He took Harlow's place as Rookwood’s right hand man.” 

MC looked at Carrow's photo, her eyes narrowing. “They both look like cold bastards,” she muttered. 

“You definitely don't want to be crossing them, no,” he said, biting his lip. He reluctantly placed the next profile down. “This is Luella Rookwood. His daughter.” 

MC's gaze flicked up at him, that blank faced stare she was so good at slotting carefully into place. “She's rather pretty, isn't she?” 

“Luella is seen mostly on the south coast, or on the Scottish border,” Leander said, sticking to the facts. “She grew up in France and speaks fluent French. We think she may translate for traders and poachers across the channel. She was last seen in London a few days ago.” 

MC stilled, her gaze fixing on him with a determined gleam. “She was at the duelling pit, wasn't she?” 

Along with the physical improvements to MC's body, her mind had sharpened, too. Leander remembered that she had been a competent student, and her four years in Azkaban hadn't taken the edge off her smartness. 

“She was,” he confirmed with a nod. “I saw her myself.”

His stomach clenched as he picked up the next profile, his personal feelings making him wish he didn't have to show it to her, but if he didn't, he wouldn't be sticking to his professional role here. Reluctantly, he placed the next profile down before MC. 

“Luella was with Carrow in the pits, along with someone else you know rather well.” 

She stared down at the parchment, the moving image of Sallow drawing her full attention. Taken about a year ago, Sebastian was dressed all in black, his eyes dark as they gazed forward. He hadn't changed all that much since it had been taken, but MC had not seen him in four years. Her throat worked as her hands hovered near the edge of the parchment, not touching it, just scanning over the details before she shuffled Luella’s to lay beside it. 

“Do you think McKinnon was right?” She asked, her eyes shifting between the two images. “She wasn't just being a bitch, was she? These two…” 

“I honestly don't know,” he said softly, wincing at the tight line of her mouth as her words trailed off. “I'm sorry. We can stop if this is too much.” 

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. She stiffened her spine. “I need to know what I'm getting myself into, right? If I can't even look at photographs of gang members, then how am I supposed to be able to face them?” 

Once again, Leander found himself wishing he could take her pain away. She was doing a very good job of hiding it, but he had spent far too long looking at her, and he knew she was upset by the way she was touching her fingers to the scar on her palm. Her shoulders were stiffly held, and there was a stubborn tilt to her mouth that revealed her defensiveness. 

Rather than reach for her, pushing down that softness behind his ribs, he placed a few more profiles down onto the table for her to look over. He shared some of the evidence they had gathered over the last six months. There was so much she needed to know before heading into the gang’s midst, and she listened carefully, studying everything with a slight crease on her brow. The facts kept him grounded, but his eyes would still stray to the soft curve of her mouth, noting how her flesh was softer and seemingly more rounded over the lines of her face. Just like in class at Hogwarts, she had the power to distract him. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as he straightened his tie, before showing her some of the recent campsites they had raided in the Highlands. 

“These ones here are close to ruins where I found ancient magic traces,” she said with a frown, pointing to some north of Hogwarts. “There were maps and notes belonging to a witch called Isadora Morganach that helped me find hot spots. Only someone who can wield the magic can see it, but Sebastian said there was a strange hum of energy near the locations we managed to find.” 

“Do you think Rookwood could be hunting out these locations, too? You said he was fixated on your magic,” Leander asked curiously. 

“He wouldn't be able to do much about it if he was. Not without me,” she shrugged. “Sebastian said he could feel the energy of the site, but once I had absorbed it all, that residue of power was gone. It belongs to me now.” 

Leander bit his lip as he thought for a moment, eyeing her carefully. It was incredible to think that she could absorb such power and wield it. She was a tiny thing, frail looking on the outside, especially right now, but she was a weapon in the wrong hands. It was actually quite terrifying. She was able to lie through her teeth during the questioning after he had swapped the truth serum out, and he still wasn't sure how much he could trust her now. He wanted to. He really did. 

“What if he did have you, MC?” He asked quietly. “Could Rookwood use this ancient magic?” 

“I'm the only one who can see traces of it and wield it,” she said, meeting his gaze. “The only way Rookwood could use it is through me, either by my consent to perform whatever it is he wants or by means of Imperio.” 

Leander felt ice slide down his spine. “Shit,” he muttered, looking down at all the gang members laid out across the table. “And we want to send you right into his clutches.” 

His gaze shifted as she placed a hand over his on the table top, her fingers so light and gentle. “I will never give my consent to him, Lee. Never,” she said with conviction. “I refused him before to the point of killing him, and I would do it again. My magic would be catastrophic in the wrong hands, I've seen how it can warp a person. Isadora Morganach ended up dead because she let it get the better of her. I swore back then that I would never end up like her. I tried so hard, Lee. I had the chance to absorb all the terrible power she had accumulated over years, but I didn't. I let it be. I left it in a safe, guarded repository.”

“So, this Isadora could wield ancient magic, too?” He asked curiously. 

MC nodded, her hand still on his. “She lived a few hundred years ago. She was a professor at Hogwarts, and lived in Feldcroft. It was her magic deposits that Ranrok was after, accumulated through abuse of trust and power. It's why I had to stop him, and Rookwood was involved in it all.” 

“These deposits still exist, then,” Leander said, his mind spinning quickly. “So, it's possible that Rookwood could still be after them.” 

“He could be I suppose, but like I said, without me he won't get far,” she shrugged. 

Leander rubbed a hand against his forehead, professionalism fighting against emotions. He brought his other hand down atop hers, brushing his fingers over her knuckles, unable to help the constant desire to be touching her somehow. 

“I probably shouldn't be telling you this,” he said, biting his lip. “But, I did promise you honesty, and I think you ought to know.” 

“What is it?” 

“We had a tip off that Rookwood was planning a prison break. No names were ever mentioned, but Harrington thought he was coming for you,” he revealed. Her eyes widened. “After what you just told me, I think he might be right. What could be even more worrying, is that he has recruited Sebastian to help him in his cause. What if they are coming after you so they can use your magic?” 

Her eyes flew back down towards Sebastian’s image, her face drawn and even more pale. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Sebastian can't turn against me. It would kill him. That can't be why he is with Rookwood. Sebastian has a very good reason to hate him. There is more to it than that, I'm sure.” 

His grip on her hand tightened, his emotions winning out completely now as he stared at her, that softness behind his ribs becoming an ache. Even now, she refused to believe that Sebastian could be anything other than honourable. It was so tempting to tell her the truth, that he had fought him in the pits, that it had been Sebastian who had hit his head in his attempts to find out where she was. Worry seized him that it was her power they were after, and she was so very powerful, the memory of her fighting off a horde of Dementors without a wand making ice trickle down his spine.

Powerful she may be, but she was also just a girl, a damaged one at that. He had seen the fear that seized her eyes when she was vulnerable, he had wiped away her tears and held her as she sobbed. Under that cold, indifferent face she had mastered as a mask, there was a softer, fragile part of her underneath that made him want to hold her tight against him and never let go.

“Whatever their reasons, MC, I hate the thought that I am sending you into their hands. No matter how powerful your magic, or how fiercely you want to stop Rookwood, I just… I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt.” 

He could hear the hitch of her breathing as she stared at him, that tension he had been noticing beginning to heighten between them as his pulse fluttered through his veins. Caught in her gaze, a curling wisp of hope began to form in his chest. He wondered what she thought of him, if she felt anything at all after the last few weeks of them meeting. 

“You can't keep looking at me like that,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to his mouth before quickly shifting downwards. 

“Like what?” His voice sounded strained to his own ears, his fingertips seeking out the soft skin near her wrist bone. 

She closed her eyes briefly as though in pain. “You don't want a girl like me, Leander. Trust me,” she rasped. Her eyes were dark, haunted, deep wells of shadow. “I will only hurt you, and I do not want to do that. Not to you, not after everything you have done for me. You deserve better.” 

“I'd do it all again,” he said, his voice soft but firm. 

“I know you would,” she whispered, her lips beginning to tremble. 

Those eyes that were burned forever into his thoughts shone with tears. He couldn't stand it. A face that beautiful deserved smiles, not heartache, and his betraying hands were already reaching for her. His chair slid noisily across the floor as he stood, pulling her to her feet and wrapping her tightly against him. 

Surprisingly, she didn't stop him or pull away, despite her warning to keep his distance. She buried her face against his chest, her arms coming around him and her fingers gripping at the back of his waistcoat. Bending his head down, he buried his nose into the softness of her hair, breathing in the delicate lavender scent of the soap she had used. How could he not? The dawning suspicion that he was falling dangerously close to being addicted to her was swept firmly aside as he held her in his arms. 

“I'm in too deep now, MC,” he murmured against her scalp, his lips pressing kisses he had no right to give, and yet he couldn’t stop. 

“That's what I am afraid of,” she said, lifting her head to gaze up at him. She blinked back her tears, their faces mere inches apart, her voice breaking into a whisper. “But, when you look at me like that, when you touch me…”

Watching her pupils dilate and her teeth catch against her lower lip made it hard for him to draw a breath, the ache within him twisting into a burn that raced to the tips of his fingers and toes.

What happened when he touched her?

Her words had trailed off, leaving so much unsaid, but the way she was looking up at him right now made him want to break his promise to remain professional. Just like when he had switched out the Veritaserum, when it came to her, he just couldn’t seem to help himself. Panic warred against desire.

“We shouldn't…” His words were a mere whisper, a warning and a plea, as much for himself as it was for her. A last attempt to hold back from crossing a line.

“I know,” she replied, her gaze dropping to his mouth. 

He wasn't sure who moved first. Maybe they both did. At the first touch of her lips against his, he realised he didn't care. His hands slid up to cup her head, his fingers sinking into the silken strands of her hair as she pressed soft, teasing kisses against his mouth. Each touch had him hungry for the next, stolen breaths mingling with hers as she pushed up on her tiptoes and caught his lower lip between her teeth, driving him to the brink of his sanity. 

With a breathless gasp he held her close, the tip of his nose sliding up over her soft cheek, his eyes closing as he savoured the moment. His heart was beating so rapidly he was sure she must be able to hear it. Holding her like this had to be a dream, so perfect, but devastatingly unreal. It couldn't be real. There was a mark on her palm that made it so. 

She would never be his. Not really. His eyes slid towards the table, Sebastian’s image staring back at him, and Leander shivered. Sebastian had warned him he would never give up, that she belonged to him.

And yet, here she was, in his arms, and pressing kisses along his jaw that felt deliciously forbidden and so very tempting. He claimed her mouth in a firmer kiss, breathless with hunger as his hands slid down her back, her body arching forwards against him. His fingers circled her waist, urging her even closer, the press of her warmth sweet torture as the kiss deepened. The taste of her was driving him crazy, their tongues sliding effortlessly together in a slow, mesmerising dance.

Her hips bumped up against the table edge and his pelvis rocked instinctively, seeking friction against her softness. A low moan sounded in her throat and he closed his eyes, the sound exquisite, and he was unable to resist the slide of his hands to cup her hips. 

“Lee,” she gasped into his mouth, panting softly. 

He stopped immediately and held her steady, his forehead pressed against hers as they breathed heavily, their eyes meeting in a silent question. His lips burned with the thirst for more, but he kept a tight leash on his control, placing the decision into her hands. 

“I'm sorry,” she breathed, her fingers touching against his cheeks. “Perhaps we should stop.”

His grip loosened and he stepped back, swallowing hard as he began to adjust his waistcoat and tie, his cheeks feeling hot with a flush of embarrassed disappointment. “I should be the one apologising,” he said, his voice hoarse. “That wasn’t a very gentlemanly way to behave. Forgive me.”

There was colour in her cheeks, her eyes bright and her lips damp from their kisses. She looked so lovely, flushed and breathless from what they had shared, and the ache in his chest twisted as she caressed her thumb over that thin, red scar on her hand. Sebastian didn’t even need to be in the room to come between them.

Clearing his throat, he moved past her and began to gather up the parchments, slotting them back into his file, anything to keep his hands busy. With a pulse still racing for everything that she was, he tried to get a grip on his scattered thoughts, focusing on every breath to steady his nerves. She caught his arm, making him pause.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she said softly, her eyes searching his face. “I don’t deserve half of what you do for me, Leander. I will be as honest with you as I can, but you shouldn’t get too attached to me. I make bad choices, and I meant it when I said you deserve better than someone like me.”

She lifted her hair back from her face and turned her head, exposing the slender column of her neck where the numbers 2757 were branded into her skin, along with the rune that symbolised death. A reminder of who and what she was. 

“You don’t need to remind me of where you were, MC. I don’t think you’re a bad person,” he said, dropping the file onto the table. His fingers reached out to touch the inked branding, a tattoo she would carry for the rest of her life, and she shivered at the caress.

Why couldn’t he stop touching her?

Withdrawing his hand before he was tempted to draw her in close again, he stepped away and picked the file back up, along with Harrington’s letter, which he held up before her with a sigh. 

“Harrington still hasn’t found the snitch in the Auror Office, and so they are going to publish the notification of your release in The Daily Prophet so that it becomes public knowledge. As of tomorrow, you will be known as a free woman.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, her hand lingering against her neck where he had touched her. 

“It means we need to get you up to scratch with your duelling,” he said, his stomach sinking. He could barely look at her, his words marking the start of a barrier that they needed to keep in place. “It means that, at long last, you will be getting your wand back. I shall help you practise, and then you will be free to join Rookwood’s ranks. You will only have to see me once a day after that to make your report. We can go back to a professional situation that might be for the best.”

The flash of joy on her face at the news she would be getting her wand back faltered, her eyes wide and haunted as she looked at him. Fighting against every warm feeling threatening to burst out of his ribs, Leander turned away from her. It was for the best. 

“Help yourself to some breakfast and then find yourself something warm to put on,” he said, hating how cool and stiff he sounded. “A walk on the beach would be a good start to getting back to fitness. The fresh air will do us both good.”

He left her in the kitchen, keeping his steps measured as he took the stairs up to his room and closed the door softly behind him. Leaning back against the wood, he sighed, touching his fingers to his lips where she had kissed him. Her response had been fiery. He couldn’t have imagined that. The way her back had arched, the softness of her pressed so closely against him. He could still hear her breathless gasps, the teasing feel of her lips, and her moan. Merlin, the sound of her moan. She had wanted it, too. 

Thinking about taking her right there against the kitchen table made his cheeks flush crimson, his hand tugging at his shirt collar as he willed his body to calm down. What if she hadn’t stopped him? His heart thudded at the thought. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to stop himself, not if she had been willing under his hands. He wanted her so fiercely it hurt, that brief taste only making him ache for more. He'd lain with girls before, but it had never felt like that, like his body had been burning out of control. 

But, she had stopped him. He had given her the choice, and she had stepped back. It was hard, so very hard to take it, but he respected her choice. Staying here in such close proximity with her was dangerous. The sooner she went off to start her spying, the sooner he could get back to the business of doing his job properly before he really messed things up or lost his mind.  

Sebastian 

Sebastian couldn’t remember how many times he had stood in the shadow of an alleyway opposite the little tea shop just off Diagon Alley, staring through the windows of the little business, watching the customers come and go, a small bell tinkling every time the door was opened. He had never been inside, only watched as Anne worked with a smile on her pale, drawn face, serving people their tea and cakes as though she had no worries in the world. Countless times he had come once he had learned that his twin worked here, his eyes hungry to catch a glimpse of her, to assure himself that she was indeed alive, and as well as she could be. 

One day, he might even go in and speak to her, but not today. He loved her, but he was still deeply angry at her decision to send MC to Azkaban. His bitterness at that action was difficult to swallow down, mingling with his grief and his guilt. He knew Anne would probably never forgive him for the death of Solomon, despite him being a cold and abusive guardian. The look on Anne’s face when she had left him in the catacombs would be forever stamped into his memory. He could never take it back, but he had said he was sorry. Perhaps not for the killing itself, but more for the pain he had caused his twin. Caught now in a stubborn stalemate, he wondered if their relationship would ever be able to bridge the yawning gap that had opened between them. As angry as he was, he missed Anne with a fierceness that made him feel hollow. 

Anne was the reason for it all. Everything else he had ever cared about had been ripped from him, wrenching him apart until he wasn’t sure what was left. Clinging to the hope that he could cure his twin of the curse that crippled her frail frame with pain every day had got him through years of grief. A curse that Rookwood had placed upon her.

Sebastian was going to make that bastard pay, even if it was the last thing he could do for his sister. He would see her well again, flushed with health and living the life she had been robbed of. He needed to be strong. He just wanted everyone to be safe, for everyone to be alright, and it was his job to make sure of it. 

But, sometimes, that burden became so heavy, and he staggered under the weight of it. How he longed to have his father around to guide him on these matters. He wished his mother could come back, even if just for a moment, to ruffle his hair the way she used to and tell him that things would work out alright in the end. They were the foolish day dreams of a child, and he was no longer a child. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been there to lean on, and he was so tired. But, for Anne, he would do it.

Just seeing her alive through the windows of the tea shop reinforced his determination to see her well again, to bring down Rookwood, and raid his precious collection of rare books and artefacts. Somewhere in all that loot had to be answers that would solve the curse. He couldn't give up now. He had come too far, and they had all suffered enough.

He just needed to fight back against the darkness that was trying to take a claim on his mind. 

Adjusting the collar on his jacket against the cut of the autumn breeze, Sebastian hunched his shoulders and stepped out of the alleyway with one more glance towards the tea shop. Anne was no longer near the window, but that wasn't a problem. He could come back tomorrow and the next day. He would always check on her, just to make sure she was alright. 

Weaving through the witches and wizards gathered in Diagon Alley, Sebastian headed down the street with a mind to return to the Black Rose to catch up with Rosier. There had been some talk of going down into the tunnels tonight for some more fighting, and Sebastian thought it would be worth another attempt at trying to get rid of the tight, burning tension in his chest. 

As he made the turn into Knockturn Alley, the hairs lifted on the back of his neck and his step slowed, a strange sensation passing over him as the dark bricks in the wall to his left shimmered and shifted. He blinked and then stepped back in surprise as his twin appeared before him, materialising out of nothing on the path.

“Anne!” He gasped, his eyes swiftly travelling over her, seeing her in the flesh and so close for the first time in years.

Anne had her hands planted on her hips, her chin tilted in defiance as she stared at him, her mouth tilted in disapproval. “It’s rude to spy on people,” she retorted, one eyebrow tilting upwards. “And you do it far too much, Sebastian Sallow. Here I was thinking you had been raised better than that.”

She looked so small, his head and shoulders towering over her now, her frame slim and delicate whereas he had bulked out. There were dark shadows under her eyes, her pallor poor and eyes red rimmed as she stared at him with a guarded look. After years of not speaking, she wasn’t here to say she missed him, she was here to scold him. Not much had changed in the last two years it seemed.

“It’s lovely to see you, too,” he drawled, adopting a self-assured stance that made a liar of him. His insides were fluttering and swooping at a rather alarming rate.

Her stern gaze faltered, her eyes drifting over him as her throat worked. Her eyes found him again, a mirror image of his own, the deep brown flecked with hazel. “You’re taller,” she said softly, a flicker of sadness there and then gone again. “You look like daddy.”

The lump in his throat refused to go down, no matter how he tried to swallow. Grief, swift and eye watering, sliced through him, and even though he was still roaring mad at her, seeing his twin filled him to the brim with emotion. He grabbed her, crushing her against his chest in a hug so fierce she gulped, but her arms squeezed him back just as hard.

Holding her close and feeling her heartbeat against his felt more like home than anything else ever could. She was the other half of him, created side by side, and born into the world together. Anne was everything.

“I wish I was more like him,” he muttered against the top of her head.

Anne pulled back, tilting her head so she could look up at him. “There is always a choice, Sebastian.”

“Please, don’t start,” he said, stepping back from her and holding his hands up. “This is why I didn’t come into the shop. I just wanted to see that you were alright. I don’t need a lecture.”

“I’m fine,” she said, folding her arms. “What about you? You look tired and peaky. You’re not taking care of yourself, are you? Why aren’t you replying to Omi’s owls?”

“Things have been…hectic,” he said, pushing his fingers through his hair, his gaze skipping away from her.

Anne’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still hanging around with Ashwinders?”

Sebastian fiddled with his hair a bit more, sighing as he looked at Anne. “I have my reasons.”

“And none of them good,” Anne huffed, shaking her head. Her mouth tightened. “I know she’s out, by the way. Ominis told me about the reckless decision to release MC, and it was in The Daily Prophet this morning. It’s ridiculous! She is a menace to society. Have you seen her?”

“No,” he said shortly, a frown appearing on his brow. “Did you just say it was in the Prophet?”

Anne nodded. “Yes, there was an article printed just for her. As far as anyone else is concerned, she went down for our uncle’s murder, and the newspaper insists on highlighting her heroism as though that makes it alright that she now walks the streets.”

Ignoring Anne’s eyeroll, Sebastian’s thoughts were racing as he wondered what Rookwood made of this. If she was now publicly a free woman, then there was no reason for Leander to be holding her hostage somewhere.

“MC is not a villain, Anne,” Sebastian said, with a sigh. “She shouldn't have been in Azkaban in the first place.” 

“No, it should have been you,” Anne said coolly, giving him a hard look. “You're welcome, by the way. Despite your heinous act, I saved your backside from that prison. The least you could do is take that chance at freedom and do something worthwhile with it.” 

“I would say that finding you a cure is something worthwhile, Anne,” he said, narrowing his gaze. “You're welcome, by the way.” 

“Someone needs to tell you when you're being a stubborn fool,” Anne said, lifting her chin with her own stubborn haughtiness. “And that's exactly what you are, chasing after a cure that doesn't exist. I don't need one.”

“I can’t believe you can just sit back and accept it,” he said, gritting his teeth in frustration. “Don’t you want to be free of it? Don’t you want to be able to live the life you want?”

“I do live the life I want!” She protested, her eyes wide. “I married the man I love, I have a job that pleases me. What more could I want, Sebastian? The only thing that I wish for, is for my stupid brother to quit being an idiot and come home!”

“I don’t have a home,” he ground out, his hands clenched into fists, his cheeks flushing. “I refuse to go back to that house, that cold, empty house, that holds nothing but bad memories for me. Nothing happy happened there, Anne. Everyone left, including MC, and by your mouth no less. Not content with abandoning me yourself, you made damn sure I would be utterly alone by taking her, too.”

“She is no good for you, Sebastian, and I make no apologies for ridding her from your life,” Anne hissed. “She is wicked, dangerous, and she led you down a path of darkness. Please, don’t go looking for her. You need to leave the past behind you and move on.”

“You don’t know her like I do,” he insisted. “You didn’t give her the chance to show you. She tried to help find a cure for you, Anne, when nobody else would. If she was so wicked, she wouldn’t have done that. She might be powerful, but there is light in her, Anne. I can’t just abandon her.”

“Where is she, then? Hmm?” Anne held her hands out, a look on her face that suggested she wasn’t about to let this one go, not by a long shot. “She’s a free woman now, but I don’t see her hurrying back to your side.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched as he remembered the look in Prewett’s eyes when they had fought in the tunnel. He knew where she was. He clenched his left fist, the comfort of his scar keeping him steady. “Not yet, but she will.”

Anne looked pained, her head bowing as she shook her head, denying his words. “Let her go, Sebastian,” she said quietly. “It’s time to move on. It’s for the best.”

“Best for whom?” His voice cracked with bitterness. “That’s what you want, and Anne always has to get what she wants. Well, I don’t have to listen to this.”

Hardening himself, he stepped around her, his hands shaking as he made to move past her. The shadows that clung to his soul seemed to swirl and bend, shrouding his thoughts and making his chest tighten with a ball of iron.

“Don’t walk away from me,” she protested, her hand reaching to grasp his arm.

He paused, swallowing hard against the pain that squeezed his heart. He turned to look at her, his twin, the other half of him. “No, Anne,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You shouldn’t have walked away from me. I wasn’t the only one who made a choice that day. You made one, too. You turned your back on me, and you stole everything I had left when all I have ever done was for you. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life, not anymore.”

Anne’s eyes widened, the paleness of her face stark against the darkness around her eyes. “Sebastian…”

He didn’t know how he held himself steady, but he did. Tugging his arm free of her grip, he turned and walked away, leaving her in the shadowed turns of Knockturn Alley, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring his vision. So intent on placing one foot in front of the other, he didn’t even lift a hand to wipe away the stray tear that escaped and tracked down his cheek. 

MC

The night sky was littered with stars, blinking against the inky blackness, a huge expanse of beauty that MC could gaze up at without any barrier. The bite of autumn chill was in the air, but she kept the bedroom window open, leaning out to soak up the silence of the night. The distant and constant roar of the ocean on the beach below still sounded along the coast, but for miles around the cottage, there was nothing else. Breathing in the salty tang of the air, MC tried to focus on something positive, pushing back against the hollowness in her chest and the shadows of memory in her thoughts.

She was getting her wand back. She would be able to perform magic again.

The joy of it kept being smothered by the image of Sebastian on his Auror Office file. It had been breathtaking to gaze upon his face again after so long, and that had just been a photograph. Seeing it all in black and white, the confirmation that he was indeed in with Rookwood’s Ashwinders and alongside Luella Rookwood, too, was crushing. Sebastian had become something she used to fight against. Did that make him an enemy now?ì

Looking down at the scar on her hand, she felt the hollowness in her chest expand, loss seeping through her as she wondered where this left her now. Alone, again. Always, alone.

Biting her lip, she felt her cheeks warm, and she tucked her hands into her armpits, holding herself tightly as she gazed out at the starlit night. A lazy curl of fire flickered in her lower belly, her breaths quickening as her thoughts drifted towards the memory of being pressed up against Leander in the kitchen. Never had she dreamed that his lips could be so soft, his kisses so heated. It had shaken her to the core to feel the fire unleash so swiftly under his hands. It left her breathless and confused as that aching hole in her chest had begun to ease.

Pushing the memory aside, she turned from the window, moving to the dresser to fetch her nightshirt and prepare for bed, her eyes roaming over the soft blankets neatly made on the bed. She had yet to sleep in it, still curling up on the floor before the hearth rather than try out the softness of a mattress. Perhaps tonight she would be able to give it a try.

She was certainly tired enough, the day spent walking along the beach, her aching legs sinking into the soft sand as she tried to keep up with Leander’s long stride. He had been nothing but courteous towards her since their kiss, behaving with such politeness that it was beginning to annoy her. She had tried to get a rise out of him over dinner, teasing him a little like she used to, but he had remained stiff, retreating to his bedroom claiming he was going to read for a while. The sound of his door clicking shut had felt so isolating, her loneliness biting with sharp teeth as she too, tried to seek comfort in a book, but it was no use. The words meant nothing when all her eyes wanted to do was stray to the stairs in the hopes that Leander would return, but he didn’t.

She had told him not to get too close, to keep his distance, and he was doing just that. And she hated it.

Sitting before the dressing table, MC brushed out her hair, the strands shining in the light from the candle beside her. Carefully, she pressed her fingertips to her cheeks, seeing and feeling the difference brought on by the potions and the clear, sea air. Her stomach was warmed by proper food, and she was beginning to recognise the girl staring back. Apart from her eyes. They still looked like those of someone haunted, and she doubted that was going to change anytime soon. When she closed those eyes to sleep, her ghosts came out to taunt her dreams, reminding her of all the horrors she tried to suppress during the day.

Her eyes drifted to the bed behind her in the reflection of the looking glass, so soft and inviting, and yet she knew that if she allowed herself the luxury, her nightmares would come to punish her.

Dropping her gaze to her hands, she stared at her scar and, for the first time, resented it. She made a fist to hide it, eyes burning with tears as she looked back up at the mirror. When she kissed Leander back, surrendering to whatever fire he lit inside of her, it hadn’t hurt. A part of her had feared that giving herself to another man would make her blood burn with the betrayal, but it hadn’t. The only fire in her blood had been her hunger for the tall Auror who was in the room across the hallway. 

If it didn’t hurt her to kiss Leander, then Sebastian must be free to take passion with another, too. Luella’s pretty face swam behind her eyes and she clenched her fists even tighter, McKinnon’s taunts echoing in her ears. If he really had moved on without her, then she really was adrift in a world that was huge and daunting after four years in darkness. 

Getting quickly to her feet, she strode towards the bed, staring down at it. All she had to do was pull the blanket back and climb in. Easy. And yet, she stood there, her fists clenched and her muscles rigid. Four years of staring into cold darkness, four years of nothing but hardness and screaming terror, trapped with her own thoughts. She didn’t deserve to feel the warmth. The darkness had stared back at her and claimed her for its own. She was a killer, abandoned and alone.

Leaning forwards, she pressed her hands to the softness of the bed and almost wept, her throat closing as she stepped back away from it like she had been burned. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bring herself to feel the softness, to allow herself to sink into the comfort and safety that the bed could provide. It felt too vulnerable.

The hollow in her chest expanded and she pressed her hand to her thudding heart, panic seizing her as she stared at a future stretched out before her, the path long and empty. Which way should she turn? What path was the best choice? She had no idea. All she could do was follow the directives of her probation, serve the year under the Aurors, and then she could figure out the rest. If she didn’t die first.

Turning her gaze to the bedroom door, she realised that throughout that year, she had to report to Leander every single day in order to abide by the terms of her release. She wouldn’t be so alone after all, he was the only constant in her life right now.

The hole in her chest seemed to settle, her breathing calming as she focused on that thought. Even if he remained the perfect gentleman that he always presented himself as and kept their relationship one of simple kindness, she thought she could live with that. 

So, why was her hand lifting the latch on her door?

The old wood swung back, and she stepped out into the hall, her feet bare, wearing just a sleep shirt and her hair unbound. His door was firmly closed, and she couldn’t hear anything coming from behind it as she moved closer, the floorboards creaking softly under her feet. Standing before his door, she lifted her hand to knock, her heart in her mouth because she had no idea what she would say if he opened it. Breathing quick and shallow, she raised her hand but winced as her clenched fist unfurled, her palm pressing gently against the old wood. She didn’t knock.

Feeling like a fool, she leaned her forehead against the door next to her splayed hand. She knew that he would hold her if she asked it of him, his arms just seemed to wrap around her in a way that took some of the weight from her heart, but being that close would only remind her of his touch, his kiss.

Turning, she hurried back to her room, her fingers pressed to her mouth where he had kissed her with so much passion. Closing her eyes, she ignored the ache to just feel something, to feel that warmth that pushed back against the hole behind her ribs. Grabbing a blanket from the chair, she wrapped herself in it and curled up on the rug before the fireplace, the shifting dance of the flames beginning to fade into embers. Shivering a little, she hugged her knees and closed her eyes, hoping that her dreams would leave her be just this once. 

Leander didn’t want a girl like her in his life. She would only bring him pain and shadows. It was selfish to ask more of him when he had already given so much. For once, she needed to do the right thing. 

To be continued...

Thank you as always to @eternalremorse and @slytherin-paramour ✨️💕

Thank you to @ellivenollivander for the use of her OC, Odessa McKinnon

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @loving-him-was-red13

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #mc x leander prewett #leander prewett #blueraineshadows #blood bound

[queen-shiba]

Greetings, my queen,i bow down to thee. Might I request leona with a desi reader who's selfconscious about her skin tone (cause s such a prevalent problem here ya know)? Feel free to ignore this!

I can't ignore my fellow dark skins feeling insecure! D:<

YOU LISTEN TO ME AND YOU LISTEN WELL!

The darker berries are the sweeter ones. Take that to heart, and keep it with you. Keep your skin vibrant, luv. It's a flex 💅🏾✨️

And as someone who's faced and seen a lot of colorism, I'll tell you, their opinions mean jack shit. You're gorgeous. Get some sun. Keeps your skin healthy. You won't burn like the beauty standard. Your skin is more fit for authentic gold than any.

Colorism is maddening to me. It's funny how the skin that came in and colonized everything, and fucked so many civilizations in the ass is getting glorified like they didn't invade. Make no damn sense.

The Sweetest Berry

It was one of those days...

Just walking about the school, minding your own business.

Truly, you weren't expecting to have to deal with colorism in Twisted Wonderland, but it seems you were dead wrong.

Light skin was glorified here about as much as it is on Earth.

It's viewed as disgusting... unsightly...

Why was it this way anywhere but on Earth?

You wouldn't know.

Maybe those with zero to no complexion were doing a lot of colonizing just as they did on Earth.

Didn't seem to be too farfetched.

Truly, it was annoying to hear about it all day.

"You'd look better if your skin was lighter." Or, "Darker skin just isn't as pretty."

Whatever their reasoning was for disliking it, you didn't care. That didn't make it any less of an insecurity for you.

Now you were sitting alone in the botanical gardens in the shade.

You wouldn't wanna get darker than you already are...

Wait for Leona. That's what you usually did if he wasn't already there.

"Staying in the shade again?"

"Yeah..."

You look up to meet Leona's gaze, him standing in all his glory, skin illuminated by the sun.

Like he was made for it...

He never made fun of your complexion. In fact, he seemed to admire it.

Looking at you, he could tell you were feeling off...

It had just rained recently. Even you wouldn't sit where the mud is if it meant keeping your jacket clean.

Now you had it set under your but, right in that wet dirt.

There was only one reason you'd ever do such a thing...

He approached you and took you in his arms, bringing you out into the sunlight.

"Wait- what are you-"

He silenced you with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Leona was only so tender with you when you were alone with him... and when he knew you needed it.

You needed someone to be gentle with you now.

The lion settled down in the sunniest area of the garden, hidden by plant life so neither of you could be seen.

"Can we go back in the shade..?" You asked, even though your tone was more... begging in a way.

"You need some sun." Leona spoke plainly.

"Ah, but it's hot-"

"Why do you keep listening to what they have to say about you?"

There it was...

He really knew you too well... Or he was very observant.

Leona never did claim to know you like the back of his hand, but he certainly paid attention.

When he saw you cringe at the boys telling you your skin was unsightly, he sneered.

Who the hell were they, huh?

Even those with the same complexion as you would say it.

Leona hoped you'd defend yourself one day.

Back in his homeland, dark skin was viewed the same way... a lot of people would bleach their skin. Truly, he didn't understand why darker skin was viewed as something lesser, but he certainly didn't care. It was stupid...

"I... I don't know... I just... They're so bothering! And it's what the whole world thinks! Here and back home!"

Leona snorted, barking out a hearty laugh.

"Herbivore... Haven't you heard?"

You furrowed your brows, "Heard what...?"

"The darker the berry is, the sweeter it's juice."

Oh... You hadn't thought about it like that...

It was true. The sweeter berries were the darker ones.

"I suppose you're right..." You leaned against him, "I didn't really look at it from that perspective.."

Leona put an arm around you, keeping you close, "I know this won't fix your insecurity, but it's something for you to think about whenever you do feel this way." He mused, "And don't listen to what those idiots have to say. They're not worth the energy."

That only made you chuckle, "Right."

The End!

Hope this helped! Don't feel ashamed of your skin! Just remember it wouldn't look right if you were any lighter.

The rest of you! This anon is my newly adopted child!

#twst #twisted wonderland #savanaclaw #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #savanaclaw x reader #desi reader

[el-michoacano]

“I wish we weren’t out in public…”

“You think you can just run that pretty mouth of yours whenever you want?!”

(Either of these would ✨️kill me✨️)

Here you go, love! 🖤

.

"I wish we weren't out in public…" They very much were, though. They'd been at this party of Eladio's for hours. It was to celebrate their takeover of Fring's operation, and they couldn't simply leave, or they already would have. They were, after all, the guests of honor.

"Why?" Nacho knew why. The hand on his thigh under the table was all the explanation he needed. He took a sip from his glass of tequila. It was the best he'd ever tasted, and he didn't mind sticking around, if only for the booze. They were on a pedestal here, and after the initial pats on the back and vigorous handshakes, no one had given them a second glance. Fucking cartel, Nacho thought with an amused roll of his eyes. Even Marco and Leonel seemed to be having a good time wheeling don Hector around through the throng, his bell chiming every so often. There was pride in the sound. Nacho had worried about Aurelia being here, but she was on Domingo's arm now, whispering something to him that had his whole face going cherry red.

"You know why, cariño." Lalo grinned at him, bright enough that Nacho could see it in the dim light of the torches around the pool. His voice was nearly lost under the chatter of the other dons and the laughter of the hired girls carrying drinks and sitting in laps. "You just like hearing me say it."

He wasn't wrong. Nacho said, "So say it."

#surprise! it's an au where everything works out! #lacho #lalo salamanca #nacho varga #lalo x nacho #better call saul #bcs #my bcs #asks

[jimmyneutron877]

More of our girl Sevvy ✨️

Song inspo: Rain In Ibiza - Felix Jaehn, The Stickmen Project and Calum Scott 🌌

Over the blaring music, crowds of hot people and the bright neon lights you could see her. You could feel her watching you, stalking you from across the bar where she sat with her gang, swigging alcohol, gambling and laughing. The two of you have locked eyes with each other many times ever since you walked in with your your friends.

You smiled slightly, feeling her gaze again and took a sip from your glass of water, all of your friends had since abandoned you however you remained sober for them incase they came back to you.

"Hey" a thick, smooth voice disrupted you from your thoughts and you looked up seeing her "May I sit?" She asked gesturing to the empty chair across from you.

"Oh hi, yeah sure go ahead" you leaned back in your chair watching her pull the chair out and sit down. You took her in while she was distracted. Wow she was huge, tall dark and handsome with a side of muscles and her shimmer fueled bionic left arm.

Then she lifted her head and looked at you.

"What's your name?" She quirked her brow at you.

"Y/N, yours?"

"Sevika"

You nodded and looked around at the people, kind of growing nervous under her presence.

"Are you waiting for someone? You look nervous?" She leaned forward with a genuine expression.

"Oh, well actually I came here with friends but they kind of disappeared on me, so I just keep looking around in hopes to see them I guess, know they're alright" You explained.

"Oh yeah, I've seen them, they're all good, I think they left a while ago though" She chuckled.

"Oh" was all you could let out. They left you in a bar, thanks guys. "Well this is awkward, I should go too then" You went to get up but her hand grabbed your wrist, "Don't go alone, I'll come with you" She got up with you.

"Oh no need I haven't had any alcohol so I'm completely sober" You assured her, slightly hoping her hold on your wrist would let up.

"I don't care, this place is dangerous and I don't want to judge but I've never seen YOU down here before and I don't want you to get hurt" She stated matter of factly.

Damn she's good at judging characters. She was right though, you're just here because your friends invited you to stay with them from Piltover. They were from Zaun but you guys were all pretty tight.

You sighed "You're right, fine you can come with me" She smiled at this and let go of your wrist, walking you out of the bar.

It was a comfortable silence walking to your friends apartment. Once you arrived at the entrance to the building you turned to her.

"Well thank you for walking me home Sevika" You smiled up at her.

"No problem, will I see you again?" She leaned on the wall raising a brow down at you.

You thought for a moment before shrugging, "I hope so, I'll try to get down here more often if you want" You shot her suggestive smirk.

She chuckled and nodded, "I would love that Y/N, please do, I'd love to get to know you better, if I'm being honest" She looked up at the clouds before returning to you.

"Alright then, I'd like to know you better too Sev" You answered truthfully.

"Good, glad we're on the same page" She turned to leave but you gently held her hand and turned her back around.

"What is it-"

She was cut off by you reaching up and pulling her down into a long kiss. The kiss lasted a few minutes before you two pulled away. You both laughed, exchanged numbers and bid a proper goodbye.

Maybe my friends ditching me wasn't such a bad thing after all.

---------------------------------------------------------

>this is my own work, do not copy/steal/translate<

#arcane #fanfiction #arcane x reader #sevika x reader #x reader #fanfic #lesbian #wattpad #arcane oneshot #sevika arcane

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Short Prompt # 4

TW: Smoking, destruction mention

Supervillain takes in a long drag from their cigarette, letting their shoulders fall as they exhale. They subconsciously kick the air with their feet, perched on the rooftop of a dilapidated house in a lifeless part of town, one even a ghost wasn't expected to grace.

The place may not have been ideal, certainly far from warranting the title of 'pretty', but it was quiet. And for someone who was infamous for their penchant for destruction, the master criminal rather enjoyed peace.

But alas, nothing good seems to last long in this world, and their little break swiftly gets interrupted for the first time in forever. Except the stranger doesn't seem to be looking to intrude, if the careful, measured-out lightness of their steps was any indication.

Hero stood in front of them, arms folded across their chest. The sun seems to illuminate the outline of their features as though they were drawn in golden ink, eyes sparkling. It made them look ever the definition of angelic.

The irony of it was beautifully cruel, in an almost bittersweet way, the kind only the twisted likes of Supervillain could enjoy the taste of.

"Why would the agency send you and not Superhero to placate me? I'm assuming that's what you're here to do." The supervillain said that last part completely devoid of the uncertainty that came with their expression of choice. They flick the ash off their cigarette, fixing their gaze on their vis-á-vis.

The crime-fighter shifts their weight on one foot, seeming to shake a little under the villain's steel-hard stare, somewhat embarrassed by how easily they could read them, like a book thrown open. "Because they said I'm the only one you'd listen to," they shrug.

Supervillain laughs, a musically chilling sound. They blow a teasing ringlet of smoke in Hero's direction, watching in delight as their nemesis scrunches up their face, wafting the smoke away.

"Is lung cancer the next thing on your bucket list?" they question, trying to ease the tension. More for themselves than anyone else.

"Ha," they huff out, more amused than annoyed. They rather enjoy watching the tight line of crime-stopper's shoulders fade as they notice that revelation. Oh, how easily they could affect their emotions, how well they could play those strings. "Well, for once in life, the agency actually did something right."

"So you'd consider listening?" Hero's eyes light up only very slightly, but Supervillain never missed anything. They settle down next to them, trying to swallow down their uneasiness, but counting a little on the criminal's better nature. Brave, little thing.

"I won't make any promises. You know I don't like that kind of commitment. But if you go about things in my idea of the right way. . . then, I could be persuaded." They stand up, only to crush their cigarette underneath their boot, resuming their sitting position once more.

They were going to play this game, the question was whether it was by Hero's rules or their own? Or both mixed together to reach an equilibrium no one would've fathomed was possible?

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#prompt #hero x villain #a little gremlin's writing #morally grey #hero x supervillain #mystery #hero #villain #supervillain #female writers #writers on tumblr #writing #lamy writes #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #Idk why I wrote this. #muse is weird

[tafeekafee]

And I am here to light up your Saturday evening!

(although I should be working on my thesis as well)

I don't have a request, at least not now, but!

I wanted to know: how did you start liking this trope? What was your tell-tale? Anything in your past comes to mind?

And how do you usually write your fics? Planned or just go with the flow?

Lots of love 💜

You are the 🌞✨️ of my life 🥰

(... and yet - here we are lol)

Good question! I can't really remember when I started to actively search for sickfics but I think it was in my Percy Jackson phase (so maybe when I was like 12-14, about 10 years ago).

I've been writing since I could though, so it pretty quickly turned from just reading to writing;)

I know that as a child I never really "enjoyed" episode of cartoons or movies where a character was sick - because it felt so taboo? I don't even know why and I just remembered that recently. Maybe it was even back then that I liked it and felt like it wasn't socially acceptable for most people?

But well, then I was diagnosed with a lot of chronical illnesses over time and it brought me a lot of comfort to see my favourite characters of books, TV-shows, movies be "weak" too. Also, they received the mental and physical care I never really got?

I mean, I literally went to school with pneumonia once until my fever was so high I was begging to just sleep or there was the time my grandma had to beg my mom to let me stay home when I couldn't walk when I injured my foot... so I wanted my favourites to get what I couldn't have. So, yeah, I think that's how it happened!

Also a lot of educational purposes - many of my Les Misérables fics on Ao3 focus on explaining illnesses I have gone through or researched enough to feel comfortable to write about in a sickfic (education version) 😇

For your second question: I often have a scenario or maybe a dialogue stuck in my head that I build an idea around. Most of the time that's it. When I get stuck I do write down where I want to end up and turn that into a fic!

But yeah, I mostly work with short scene ideas/dialogue prompts 😇

For example, the upcoming Yeosang sickfic just started with these words (and only the first two lines was what I had in mind at first):

"Hyung, I don't feel well."

The five words every hyung-line K-Pop Idol dreaded to hear. Especially on the day of a concert. Especially when a few moments ago they had been asleep.

(So if anybody has a diologue prompt, please let me know!)

Thank you so much 🩷

Lots of love 🧚🏽‍♀️

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop sickfic #kpop sickfic blog #sickfic blog #ask answered #asks open #send asks #send me asks #send requests #🧚🏽‍♀️