#[But be warned; she will try and eat your muses clothes if she likes them]

[caeca-iustitia]

Vincent has a goat now...

I want a goat irl but I can't have one so Vincent gets a goat...

She is a pure white, fluffy pygmy goat named Alecto and she follows Vincent everywhere. They love her to bits and take very good care of her. Alecto is a good girl and she loves cuddles- even with strangers- though she can have a bit of a temper if she isn't fed on time.

I love her...

[howcouldmuffin]

First Choice IV

[ Chapter 4 : My Fate, My Choice ]

Born a princess, freedom eluded you, and choices were never yours to make. Yet now, your destiny rests in your own hands.

WARNING : NSFW, Targaryen incest, Non-canon, SMUT, Sex Content

AN : I feel that my descriptive skills aren’t at their best right now, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to convey. Enjoy the read. Love.

CONTENTS : Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

You find that the daily life at Dragonstone bears a curious resemblance to your experiences in King’s Landing. You rise with the dawn, don your attire, and attend to the myriad duties within the castle walls. Though not as frenzied as the capital, the routine here is one you manage with ease, and its simplicity brings a certain satisfaction to your days.

On some occasions, Jace will take you upon Vermax, and together you traverse the boundless sky. The thrill of observing the world below from such heights, with the crisp air caressing your skin, offers a sense of freedom that the gilded cage crafted by your mother never could.

The sweeping expanse of water below is breathtakingly beautiful. As you gaze down from Jacearys’s back, held closely by Jace, you ponder whether the life of privilege behind the walls of the Red Keep, with its attendant duties of marriage and children, is truly what you desire.

“Is there anything special you would like to eat today?” Jacaerys’s voice brings you back to reality. “I shall instruct the servants to prepare it.”

“No, thank you.” you reply. “Let them busy themselves on another day.”

“Our wedding shall be the grandest affair in all the Seven Kingdoms, and every soul will be in attendance.” Jace declares as he guides you back to the castle. The mighty dragon, capable of bearing two, carries you swiftly through the air.

Soon, you find yourself seated before your vanity, the maid combing your hair. Her head bowed, she reminds you of a time when you, too, had been a young girl at a celebration with your family—something your mother once remarked upon, noting the beauty you possessed but struggled to wield.

“Lift your head, please.” you instruct the maid.

“Yes, Your Highness.” she replies, hesitating briefly before complying. Her youthful face is charming, and you offer her a reassuring smile, striving to ease her discomfort.

“I believe I have encountered you before.” you say. “The little girl in the red skirt.” You recall selecting her as a maid and her brother as a soldier for the castle. They had lost their mother to either disease or cruelty; you are uncertain.

“Do you remember, Your Highness?” Her face shows astonishment and disbelief, with tears beginning to form.

“Do not cry, I have no intention of reprimanding you.” you say, turning to face her. “The girl who clung to my skirt, her face stained with tears because her brother was departing.”

The tears flow freely now, and the maid’s hands tremble as she drops the comb. She remains as tearful as she was years ago. Rising from your seat, you gently wipe her tears away with a cloth.

“Now, tell me, how did you come to be here, Zia”

Regaining her composure, she recounts that after you had her brother join the castle guard, his skill and cleverness won him favor among the nobles, which improved their fortunes. When it became known that the princess’s personal maid was still needed, they hastened to request the position from Vidah, who granted their plea.

“Vidah should have informed me.” you muse. “Well, I shall rely on you. I can be quite particular.” You retrieve the comb she dropped and hand it back to her, resuming your seat at the vanity to continue her grooming.

“I am greatly honored to serve you, Your Highness.” she says, her hands working carefully through your hair. “Without your intervention, my brother and I might have been doomed to a life of servitude. My brother pledged that, given the chance, he would dedicate himself to the Queen. Whatever you require, we will do anything for you, Your Highness.”

You smile at the steadfast loyalty she and her brother offer. Ruling through fear may eventually lead to a more formidable ruler; maintaining loyalty is far more advantageous. You pause, reflecting on this thought, as the maid awaits your response.

“Is something troubling you, Your Highness?”

“You said that if I needed anything, you would fulfill it, did you not?” You turn to her. “Anything at all?”

“Even our lives, if it comes to that.” she replies earnestly.

The sound of the bedroom door closing reverberated through the stillness of the chamber as you sat engrossed in a book at the antique wooden desk. Your attention was absorbed by the delicate prose on the pages, and you barely noticed the figure entering the room. The atmosphere was thick with a sense of nostalgia and intimacy.

A soft, lingering kiss brushed against the nape of your neck, and a warm embrace enveloped you from behind. You felt the familiar presence of Jacearys, whose arms had become your sanctuary.

“What treasure are you lost in this evening, my love?” His voice was a gentle murmur as he settled into the chair beside you, his proximity radiating a comforting warmth.

“Just a novel of mundane adventures.” you replied, closing the book with a slight sigh and lifting your gaze to meet his. “Do you require anything of me?”

“I merely wished to see my betrothed.” he said with a smile that seemed to light up the dimly lit room. “May I?”

“Always.” you responded, placing the book aside and rising to draw the heavy velvet curtains, which filtered the moonlight into a soft, diffused glow. The room, bathed in a silvery luminescence, was now perfect for intimate conversation.

As you turned back, Jacearys stood so close that his presence seemed to envelop you entirely. His eyes, deep and mesmerizing, held an allure that made your heart quicken. His nose, sharp and regal, and his lips, full and inviting, formed a visage that seemed straight out of a bygone era.

At last, your lips met in a kiss that was both tender and consuming. Jacearys’s touch was gentle, his kiss an exploration that was neither hurried nor hesitant. The sweetness of his lips was intoxicating, a flavor so enchanting it felt as if you could easily become lost in it. The kiss deepened as you both savored the precious moments, exchanging affection with a fervor that seemed to transcend time.

“We should not indulge further.” you whispered, your breath mingling with his. “It would be scandalous if the maid were to discover us in such a state.”

“We are betrothed, and thus bound by no such constraints.” he replied, his voice carrying an undertone of playful defiance. “Yet, I shall wait with patient anticipation for the day when you are ready, ready to share your life with me.”

His words filled you with a profound joy, a flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks. With a soft smile, you leaned forward to place a gentle kiss upon his cheek. He paused, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before returning your smile with one of his own, both tender and teasing. The moment was so perfect that you found yourself reluctant to imagine anything beyond it.

“You should retire for the night, my princess.” he suggested with a loving tone.

“And you should take your rest as well, my prince.” you replied, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

“May I request the honor of sharing your bed?” Jacearys asked, his gaze earnest. “I long to hold you until the first light of dawn.” You considered his request for a moment, your thoughts drifting between anticipation and propriety.

“Yes.” you finally agreed, your voice soft and inviting. “But only for the purpose of cuddling.”

“By your command, my princess.” he responded with a grin that spoke of contentment. He lifted you effortlessly, his touch gentle as he placed you upon the grand, canopied bed. The quilt, rich and heavy with its intricate patterns, was drawn over you both as he settled in beside you.

Under the cover of the thick, warm blanket, you felt his embrace close around you. The world outside seemed to fade away as you nestled against him, the weight of his arms a reassuring presence. The room was filled with a serene tranquility as you both surrendered to the comfort of each other’s closeness, drifting into a restful slumber as if the night itself was a protective shroud, keeping you safe from all that lay beyond.

You find yourself in the vast and echoing kitchen of Dragonstone, a grand but unfamiliar space adorned with intricate tapestries and polished copperware. Despite the opulent surroundings, there is an intangible quality about the room, a subtle hint of its true owner that resonates with you. Having taken it upon yourself to prepare tonight’s meal for both the prince and yourself, you’ve decided to forego the usual bustle of the servants, wishing for an evening that is both intimate and personal.

Your skills in the culinary arts were honed under the meticulous guidance of Oliver, the head chef, who once admonished you with a half-hearted smile, "As a princess, you need not trouble yourself with such matters." Yet, your resolve was unwavering. You yearned to impress your mother with your cooking prowess, despite Oliver’s grumbling about how your insistence often interfered with the proper functioning of the kitchen.

As you meticulously arrange the ingredients and set about your task, the grand kitchen’s silence is broken by the entrance of Jacaerys. He strides in with a casual grace, his presence commanding attention. Leaning against the stone countertop, he casts a curious gaze over the assortment of fresh produce and exotic spices laid before you.

“I hear you are in the midst of culinary creations.” he says, his voice a blend of amusement and intrigue. “What feast do you plan to conjure for me this evening, my love?”

“Perhaps a succulent roast accompanied by a fine vintage of wine.” you reply, glancing up with a playful smile. The sight of his own smile, a beacon of warmth and affection, lights up the room and chases away the shadows of your apprehension. As you begin the labor of love that is meal preparation, Jacaerys offers his assistance, his eagerness evident in his frequent inquiries about how he might lend a hand. You allow him to partake in simpler tasks, finding his presence both a comforting and delightful addition to your culinary efforts.

The dining table is set with understated elegance, a reflection of your desire for simplicity rather than grandeur. Soft candlelight dances across the polished surface, casting a warm and inviting glow that enhances the romantic atmosphere. As you both settle into your seats, the conversation flows effortlessly, delving into reminiscences of days gone by, misunderstandings that once marred your relationship, and the myriad events that have shaped your journey together.

“I once believed you harbored ill feelings toward me, much like your brother.” Jacaerys muses, his tone tinged with nostalgia. “You avoided meeting my gaze, and I wondered if there was something I had done to offend.”

“That was not the case.” you respond with a chuckle. “Aemond was astute enough to perceive my secret admiration. I avoided his barbed comments by keeping my distance from you. Yet, despite my attempts at discretion, I could not help but watch you from afar.”

“It’s curious.” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of vulnerability, “that while you were discreetly observing me, I was also watching you. I admired how you appeared to light up in Aemond’s presence, how you seemed to find joy in the simplest of moments.”

“There is an odd kinship between us.” you reflect, a hint of melancholy in your voice. “We share the burden of feeling misunderstood, of fighting for a freedom that often seems just out of reach. In our pursuit of it, we have learned to grasp at every opportunity, no matter how fleeting.”

He sets his spoon down with deliberate care, his gaze never leaving yours. With a gesture both tender and resolute, he reaches out, clasping your hand in his. The sincerity in his eyes surpasses the most extravagant words, his commitment to you clear in his every expression. “Tonight, as my wife, your freedom shall be secure. No force shall ever take it from you again.”

You place your own spoon aside and return his gesture, your fingers intertwining with his. The gentle caress of your thumb against his hand speaks volumes, your heart swelling with gratitude. Your smile, genuine and heartfelt, conveys the depth of your emotions—an affirmation of the life you are beginning together.

“Thank you, my prince.” you say softly, your voice imbued with heartfelt sincerity. “Your promise is a gift I have longed for, and it is more precious to me than any grand feast.”

You and Jacaerys are ensconced in the warmth of a lavish bath, the soft steam enveloping you both in a sensual embrace. The two of you are bare, the intimacy of the moment heightened by the way you lean back against his broad chest. Your hair is neatly pinned up, leaving your shoulders exposed to the gentle caress of his large hands as they trace soothing circles along your skin. His lips graze the back of your neck, your shoulders, and your cheeks, creating a cascade of tender kisses that leave you shivering with delight.

“I am so happy to be living this life with you, my prince.” you whisper, your voice filled with genuine affection.

“I am happy too.” he murmurs close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “And we shall be happy together forever.”

“Though it may sound selfish, I can’t bear the thought of returning to King’s Landing.” you confess. “I want to stay here with you, where it’s just us.”

“My princess is becoming a bit spoiled.” he teases with a chuckle. “First, we must be wed, and only then can we truly live the free life we desire.”

You don’t quite agree with the practicalities of his statement. Shifting in the water, you turn to face him, your eyes locking with his. You lean in slowly, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. The connection is magnetic, the way your bodies seem drawn together is palpable. But this time, it is he who pulls away first.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks, his voice laden with a mix of concern and desire.

You nod firmly, your gaze unwavering. “I am sure.”

Without another word, Jacaerys closes the distance between you with a sudden, impassioned kiss. This time, the intensity of the moment is heightened, a fervor that feels almost like riding a dragon in its thrill. He deepens the kiss, then begins to explore the contours of your neck with his lips. The delicate blush of his kisses leaves a trail of warmth across your skin, each touch a testament to the profound connection between you.

As the bath's gentle warmth continues to surround you, you lose yourself in the sensation of his touch, your bodies intertwined in a dance of love and longing, creating a symphony of intimacy that feels both timeless and entirely your own.

In the steamy, dimly lit bathroom, the mood between you and Jacaerys is electric with anticipation. The air is thick with the intimate sounds of your breathing, the gentle splash of water, and the soft, muted noises of your kisses.

You feel the growing stiffness beneath you and instinctively begin to move your hips, gently rocking back and forth to create a slow, deliberate contact. The rhythm is intimate and sensual, each subtle motion amplifying the connection between you. The sounds of your kisses and the soft splashes of the water become louder, blending into a symphony of intimacy.

Jacaerys's mouth moves restlessly, expressing a deep-seated desire. He trails kisses along your body, his lips brushing and exploring every curve with fervent attention. His touch is tender but insistent, each caress a testament to the passion and longing that you both share in this secluded haven.

“Jace, I’m ready.”

"Be patient, my love." he responds, his tone tender yet commanding. He begins to use his fingers, sliding them slowly into you, which makes you lose your balance slightly. He lowers his head to your neck, his warm breath mixing with your soft whimpers and gasps, sending shivers across his skin.

His fingers move rhythmically in and out, his thumb grazing your clitoris, heightening your pleasure. The sensation is almost overwhelming, and you can feel his nails grazing your body, leaving a red mark as they press against him. Your hands reach up to his hair, tangling in the strands, pulling him closer, your grip gentle but insistent.

The intense sensation of his added finger and the deliberate strokes circling around

your clitoris nearly elicited a cry of pleasure. His tongue danced provocatively over the erect nipple on your chest, biting it gently. The sharp sting of his teeth was a delightful pain when it came from Jacaerys, adding an edge of pleasure to your experience.

"Now you're truly ready, my love." he murmured, withdrawing his fingers.

"Position yourself on me."

Obeying his command, you adjust yourself carefully, the rigid pressure of his desire urging you onward. You slowly lower yourself onto his erect shaft, the feeling of him filling you entirely is a blend of anticipation and satisfaction.

"Jace-" you moan softly, the bliss evident in your voice as you feel him fully enveloped inside you. He holds your hips with a firm, guiding grip, gently urging you to take all of him.

You manage to settle fully onto him, feeling the fullness of his size stretching you. The sensation is almost overwhelming, as if your body is being stretched to its limits.

Your inner walls tighten around him, desperately trying to adjust to his considerable girth. His hands gently cradle your face, his fingers tenderly brushing against your cheeks, his touch soothing as he removes the cloth binding your hair and tucks it behind your ears.

"If you're ready." he whispers near your ear, his breath warm and intimate, "you can begin to move."

You respond with a kiss, the moment filled with shared passion. As you start to move your hips up and down slowly, you feel the connection between you deepen. The rhythm you find is a blend of your efforts and his, each movement bringing a new wave of sensation. His hands leave your face, finding their place on your hips, guiding and controlling the pace with a firm yet gentle touch.

The initial discomfort of your first experience begins to transform into a pleasurable tingle, each stroke of his cock hitting your g-spot with precision as you glide up and down. The blend of pain and pleasure weaves together, heightening the joy and intensity of your shared moment.

The sounds of water gently sloshing in the bath, mingled with the soft echoes of your shared intimacy, create a symphony of passion in the dimly lit room. Outside, the maid might be oblivious to the intensity of the moment unfolding within, her routine entirely detached from the fervor within these walls.

But the distraction of external concerns is fleeting, as Jacarys draws your full attention back to him. Your hips move with an unpredictable rhythm, driven by the bliss of your union. The sensation of making love with him overwhelms you with a deep sense of fulfillment and joy.

"I feel so good, it's as if I'm close." he murmurs, his voice laden with satisfaction.

"Me too." you respond, your breath catching with the intensity of your feelings.

Your heart races, the tension building as your body tightens around him. The pleasure you're experiencing is intoxicating, your mind drifting away as the only focus becomes the insatiable need for him. In this moment, nothing else exists but the profound connection between you, a yearning that consumes every thought and sensation.

At last, the culmination of your shared passion arrives, and you both reach the peak of ecstasy simultaneously. The intensity of the moment sends waves of pleasure through you, leaving you utterly spent. As you collapse against him, your body feels languid and weak, enveloped in a profound sense of euphoria and relief. You feel his warmth and the intimate sensation of his release mingling within you, a tangible reminder of your union.

He cradles you gently, his embrace tender and reassuring amidst the afterglow. His voice, now softened by satisfaction, carries a hint of playful affection.

"It's time for bed, my wife." he murmurs, his tone a promise of quiet moments yet to come.

The warmth of his body and the comforting cadence of his voice invite you to relax into the serene closeness of your shared space, marking the end of a night filled with intense connection and unspoken promises for the future.

You find him resting in your arms, his slumber deep and tranquil, his breath a gentle rhythm against the night. The moon’s pale light spills through the draped windows, casting soft patterns upon his serene countenance. He will remain in this restful state for many hours, long enough for you to embark upon the vessel bound for Driftmark. Far from this place, far from him.

Throughout your time together, the prince has bared his soul to you with a candor that once warmed your heart. Yet, the solitude afforded by your present circumstances has bestowed upon you a rare clarity. In this quiet, you have come to discern your own desires, your own truth. Despite the love you hold for Jacaerys, you have realized that a life of queenship is not the destiny you seek. It is a mantle you never wished to don, regardless of the depth of your affection.

A gentle rap upon the door serves as the herald of your departure. With swift and measured motions, you ready yourself, your attire meticulously chosen for the journey ahead. Zia’s careful preparations have made your flight possible. You are poised to leave behind all that you know, to seek the freedom you have longed for.

You approach your husband one final time, a pang of sorrow in your heart. Bending low, you place a tender kiss upon his brow, a silent adieu to the man you once envisioned sharing your days with. His unawareness of your departure, induced by the powerful sleeping draught you secured, adds a poignant note to your resolve.

“You shall be the only husband I ever claim.” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion as you brush away the tears that have stained your cheeks. The gravity of your choice is profound, yet it is a path you must follow for your own peace and liberation.

Zia leads you through the grand corridors to the quay where a small, waiting boat is moored. Her brother stands ready, his manner respectful as Zia whispers final instructions. The air is thick with anticipation.

“Let us not tarry.” you urge, urgency in your tone. “Should we delay further, we risk discovery.”

“Thomas, attend to the princess’s safety with the utmost vigilance.” Zia commands her brother, who acknowledges with a nod.

“I shall fulfill my duty with the greatest care, Your Highness.” Thomas assures, his voice steadfast.

You board the modest vessel with a sense of purpose, accompanied by a handful of soldiers who, though unaware of your true identity, are tasked with ensuring a smooth escape. Their presence, albeit limited in number, should suffice to deter any potential hindrance.

As the boat sets forth, gliding silently away from Dragonstone, you cast a final glance at Zia’s retreating figure. The image of Jacaerys, his face a fixture in your memories, lingers in your thoughts. The life you leave behind is one not of your choosing but of circumstance. Yet, as you embrace the path of your own making, a sense of liberation accompanies the uncertainty.

In a life where you were often the second choice, never the foremost, you now make a decision wholly for yourself. The journey ahead is both exhilarating and fraught with apprehension, but it is yours to command. As the boat progresses toward Driftmark, you are filled with both trepidation and hope. For the first time, you are not merely following a course dictated by others but charting a path of your own.

Tomorrow, you will embark on a new chapter, one where you are the mistress of your own fate. The voyage has only just begun, but for the first time, you are in command of your destiny, casting aside the shadows of the past for the promise of a future of your own design.

As the past is immutable and beyond our reach to alter, one must inevitably decide what is truly desired. In the end, you have arrived at your own resolution. — [ END ]

tag list : @r3va-dwme @ladyofvelaryon @mckennah123 @ericasabe @yohanseyebrowmole @mah1644 @miksde @staarflowerr @tempo-rary-fix @melsunshine @chlmtfilms

[roosterforme]

At Least Twice a Day (Rooster x Reader)

Part of The What If Collection of blurbs for Roo and Baby Girl. My masterlist. Banner by @mak-32

Warnings: language, mentions of smut, mention of injury

You loved having Goose and Carole stay with you and Bradley. His mom always taught you a new recipe, and you could tell how happy it made Bradley to spend time with them. Especially Goose. 

The guys were out walking Tramp after dinner, and you were helping Carole make a cake in your kitchen as you kept pausing to look at your engagement ring which used to be hers. 

"He'll take good care of you," Carole mused out loud as she cracked some eggs. "Not that you can't take care of yourself, of course. But he'll give you anything you need or want. That's just the way he loves you."

Her words made you feel gooey. "That's the way I love him, too."

Your future mother-in-law's beaming smile left you wishing Bradley would return from his walk so you could touch him. You just always wanted to be touching him. "Chocolate frosting?" Carole asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

"Yes. As long as Goose likes that."

She laughed and tossed her head back. "Goose has never meet a food he won't eat."

"Sounds exactly like Bradley."

Once the pretty cake was cooling and the frosting was ready to go on it, the front door opened, and Tramp bounded in ahead of the guys. "It smells good in here," Bradley murmured as he made a beeline to give you a hug. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled your cheek against him. "Well this is a warm welcome."

"I missed you a little bit," you whispered. You made sure Carole and Goose looked distracted as you said, "You told me you'd make some more time for me all week. I want it real bad." You sent him a little pout just to reinforce things. It was hard to be as intimate as you liked when his parents were visiting.

His response sounded a little stern. "I know. I've been tired. And a little preoccupied. Don't act like you aren't getting it, Baby Girl." You pressed your lips together, because he'd actually taken the time to go down on you this morning before he got dressed. For almost thirty minutes. And it had been really good. "Now what smells so delicious?"

You patted his belly; he was still trying to get in shape again after his horrific accident during his last deployment a few months ago. "I don't think you should eat too much cake, okay. You told me to make sure you were making healthy food choices."

Bradley sighed and said, "If you make it, I'm going to want to eat it." He sounded a little snippy, and you knew it was because he loved his mom's recipes, but you'd stand firm.

"Just one small piece. I'm going to ice the cake, and we can all eat it tomorrow before your parents fly home to Virginia."

"Fine."

------------------------------

Bradley knew you were probably a tiny bit annoyed with him when you excused yourself early to take a shower and get ready for bed. But the cake looked so good, and he wanted to eat it even though he did tell you not to let him have too many sweets. His parents were on the couch watching a movie together when he changed into his gym clothes as he heard you get into the shower. Since he had his weight bench in the garage now, he should be using it every day. 

When he walked into the living room on his way to the kitchen to make a protein shake, he felt two pairs of eyes on him. "What?" he asked, turning toward the couch. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well..." Carole began, already cluing Bradley in to the fact that this would be an irritating conversation. "We couldn't help but notice that you got a little bit snippy with your fiancée earlier."

"Oh here we go," he muttered in response, running his hand through his hair. "How much did you hear?"

They shared a look before Carole asked, "Are you sure you're pleasing her in the bedroom?"

He froze in place and barked out an annoyed laugh. "We are not having this conversation. Absolutely not."

His dad put a hand on his mom's shoulder, but that didn't stop her. "Oh, yes, we are. We have always been very open about sex, Bradley. It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

Bradley looked at her bright blue eyes before glancing at his dad. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to talk about sex with his parents even though he was well into his thirties, it was more that he wasn't sure how to defend himself right now. "This conversation is not necessary. She was being dramatic."

Carole scoffed in response. "It's not dramatic when you're letting your partner know you need something, Bradley. She's going to be your wife!"

"Yeah," Bradley barked. "And she's already getting it at least twice a day most days!"

Goose choked on his sip of tea. 

"Oh," Carole said softly, but she looked a lot calmer now as Bradley shook his head. "Well, that's good."

"Mmhmm," he hummed sarcastically with his hands planted on his hips. "I am fucking my fiancée regularly. She's plenty satisfied. She just likes being a brat. But thank you for your concern." He turned toward the kitchen, nearly forgetting what he was planning on doing in the first place. "Jesus," he grumbled as he grabbed his protein powder. "The fucking audacity."

------------------------

When you woke up the next morning, Bradley was still sound asleep, so you made your way to the kitchen to start breakfast for the four of you. The coffee was brewing, and you were collecting ingredients for some pancake batter when you froze. Half of the cake was gone. "What the fuck?" you gasped, and that's when you saw Bradley walk in. "You ate the cake."

He frowned at you. "No, I didn't."

"You did!" you accused. "It's half eaten! You ate it out of spite!"

Bradley raised one eyebrow and asked, "Are you serious right now?"

You spun when you heard Goose clear his throat, and you turned to see that Carole couldn't even look you in the eye for some reason. "Good morning," she said as she reached for a mug. "Goose has something he needs to tell you."

"I ate the cake," he said. "It was delicious. I had one piece, and then I couldn't stop eating it. And then the next thing I knew, half of it was gone."

"Oh," you replied softly. "Well, that's okay. Why don't we just finish the cake for breakfast?"

"That sounds lovely," Carole replied, barely meeting your eyes. 

You took a deep breath and turned toward Bradley. "I'm sorry, Roo. You can have a much cake as you want, I shouldn't have told you not to eat it."

He leaned in closer and whispered, "I'll have a little slice, Sweetheart. And I'm sorry I haven't been as attentive this week as I usually am. If you want me to fuck you nearly constantly, you know I will."

"Shhh," you hissed. "Your mom is already barely looking at me right now!"

Bradley laughed as his parents took the cake and coffee into the dining room. "That's because I told her you're a needy little thing who wants me balls deep inside her all the time."

"You did what?!"

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Chenle loves spoiling you. So much so that, sometimes, you just need to let him fuck into a changing room with you to let him show you. Pairing: Socialite!Chenle x fem!reader Tropes: socialite/nepo baby au, established relationship au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language Smut Warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, semi-clothed sex, mirror sex, praise kink, oral (m receive), cum eating Word Count: 1,413 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact

Listen to ♡ Nothing On Me by Kai

“Chenle, you really don’t need to spend all this money on me.” You remind him.

“I have the money to spend and want to spoil you. You’re my girlfriend.” He chuckles, “Plus! My mom has the charity gala in a few weeks, and you mentioned that you have nothing to wear.”

You look around the shop and then back to your boyfriend, “Then why are we in the everyday wear department?”

Chenle smiles brightly again and pulls you against his chest. A laugh threatens to burst from his lips when you pout at him.

“Shopping doesn’t mean we only have to get the one thing!”

He drops a kiss onto your pouty lips and smiles brightly at you again. No matter how often Chenle reassures you that he wants to spend this money on you and that it won’t hurt his finances, you still feel slightly bad. You’re not from a background that lives as comfortably as him. You grew up in an average household, so when he takes you to these high-end stores to buy something as simple as a T-shirt, there’s a culture shock. It’s diminished over the time you’ve dated so far. It may never fully go away. Chenle grabs your hand and pulls you toward the escalator. The higher the floor, the higher the price. The moment you’re on the next floor, you’re met with gorgeous formalwear you’d never be able to afford in a million years. Your boyfriend squeezes your hand to reassure you before guiding you toward the formal gowns.

“Mom said the theme is 1930’s Hollywood… I don’t know why she’d choose that, but she did.” He shrugs, “What color do you think you’d like?”

“I don’t know, Lele…” you trail off, “Everything is really expensive, I’m sure I-”

“Let me spoil you, love. What color?”

“Didn’t that era of fashion really love dark green, red, lavender, and gold?”

Chenle chuckles, “Sure if that’s what you want it to be.”

Chenle gestures for you to wander. Finally, you step up to the racks and choose a few gowns. You don’t dare look at the price tag. Two of the dresses you’re more excited to try on are floor-length silk gowns. They have similar cuts. It’s not quite hourglass, but definitely accentuating your waist. The straps are strings, and the back dips low enough to expose your entire back. The third gown you picked up has the same cut as the other two but is a deep green sparkly velvet material. It has a shawl that comes with it made of the same material with faux fur lining the edges. It’s perfectly reminiscent of old Hollywood glamour.

“You’ve got a good eye, love.” Chenle muses, “Wanna try them on?”

You nod, “Wait outside the room for me?”

“Always, I wanna see what they look like on you.”

His comment has a suggestive undertone, but you choose not to read too deeply into it. You carry the gowns into the fitting room. The first one you put on is the velvet one, it looks nice. That’s about it; you know Chenle will appreciate it regardless. When he first started taking you out shopping, you joked that he was just playing dress-up with you as the doll. That made for an interesting night, to say the least.

“You ready for the first one?” You call through the door.

“Let’s see it, baby.”

You step out and see your boyfriend on his phone waiting for you. He’s created a new habit of randomly taking videos and pictures of you. You love it; it makes for some of the best candid photos and moments caught on camera. He puts his phone back in his hoodie pocket and looks you up and down.

“Well?” You ask, turning around a few times.

“Fucking beautiful.” He mumbles under his breath, “You look stunning, baby.”

“No objections? We’re only on the first one.” “If you look as beautiful as you always do, we’ll leave with all three of them.”

You feel heat rush to your face at his flattery. You turn and walk back to your room to change into the next gown.

“Babe,” Chenle calls before you can close the door fully.

“Hmm?” You ask, popping your head and shoulder through the opening.

“Do the others have that style too?”

“Yeah, why?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him.

“No reason.”

You close the door fully and change into the first silk gown. This one is a cherry cola color. Honestly, it’s not your favorite. The color just doesn’t seem to be right for some reason. Standing there, you debate, even showing him for a few moments. In reality, a few moments must’ve been a few minutes because Chenle knocks on the door.

“You okay, love? You’ve been in there a while.”

“It’s just– I don’t know if it’s even worth showing you. The color isn’t right, making me look–”

“Let me in?” He requests.

You let out a long breath before opening the door to let him into the rather spacious room. He presses his back against the door and looks at you with that same heated look. You pick at your fingers when he doesn’t speak for a few moments. 

“I told you it’s not the be–”

You’re cut off by Chenle surging forward to kiss you. His hand wraps tight around you, holding your bare waist. With how he’s kissing, you could melt into a puddle in seconds. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and your fingers tangle in the hair at the back of his head. Your nipples pebble up underneath the thin silk. The material does nothing to hide them at all.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t even need to see the damn purple one. We’re getting all of them.”

“Chenle, that’s not–”

Again, you’re interrupted by a kiss. One of his hands wanders up to move the dress strap down your arm carefully. He pulls the other down a moment later with his other hand. The dress pools around your ankles, leaving you exposed to the chilly air and your boyfriend’s wandering hands. Your hands find their way under his hoodie and push it up a bit. Something about him being fully clothed while you’re practically naked makes you more desperate for him.

“We need to be quick, love.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Lele, need you right now.” You whisper back.

Chenle spins you around so you’re pressed against the full-length mirror. You hear him unzip his jeans and step closer to you. He presses kisses along your shoulders and upper back as he pulls your underwear to the side. The blunt head of his cock presses against your weeping hole. You pull your lower lip into your mouth to suppress the moan that wishes to escape. His jeans are just low enough not to be in the way. The skin-to-skin contact is barely noticeable, but there is just enough to feel his body heat radiating onto you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, my love.” He groans in your ear, “I’m so fucking lucky to be yours.”

“Chenle,” you whisper-moan, “Feels so good, why don’t we do this more oft–” you cut yourself off to hold back another loud moan.

“Cause you, my love, can’t be fucking quiet.”  He chuckles lowly as he picks up his pace. 

Your upper body is fully pressed against the mirror. Your breath fogs up the glass with each pant and stifled moan. Chenle’s fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back against him with each thrust. Even though you hold your moans back, the sound of skin on skin is probably a dead giveaway to what’s happening right now. Your boyfriend gives a few hard, punctuated thrusts before pulling out of you. 

Spinning you around again, he guides you down onto your knees. Instantly, you know to take him into your mouth. The combined taste of your arousal and his precum makes your head reel through more debauched fantasies.  You suck his cock while looking up at him through your eyelashes. You’re kneeling on the silky dress you had previously forgotten. Chenle’s fingers thread through your hair, holding you on his cock as he cums down your throat. You swallow every drop of it. He bends forward and places a small, sweet kiss on your forehead. “We’re buying the dresses, then we’re going home, and I’m gonna make you cum so many times you’ll forget your own name.” He smirks.

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2024© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @bratty-tingz @yeosangiess @minjaeluver @abbietwilight @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

[crazyk-imagine]

Old Faces, New Attitudes

Pairing: Otis Driftwood x Plus!size!reader

Characters: Plus!size!reader, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Mama Firefly

Warnings: Is this family a warning?, mentions of murder and mayham, Otis likes thicc girls pass it on like crack cocaine, Otis is posessive, semi dark, first movie vibes, Otis is a narcissis, this family has issues and brings people into it, mentions of smut, Otis lowkey a simp for the reader bc why not, reader knows how to handle it, I mean him

Word Count: 871

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into the house and gently close the door behind you and walk by the kitchen, realizing you came in as they were starting to eat dinner.

You knew Spaulding sent you here, but you couldn't figure out why at this time. You roll your eyes and try to sneak by.

"Is that you, pumpkin?" Mama takes off her mask, "oh, you’re all wet."

"And, ruining the floors," mumbles Otis.

Baby pops up from her chair. "Join us for dinner." She hugs you, pulling you close. "Please, please, please."

You hold in a groan, not wanting to let her know you're annoyed.

She'll run with it and never shut up, another reason you liked playing with her as a child; she always kept you on your toes. "If I say yes, will you shut up?"

"Well, duh."

You sigh, "if you’ll excuse me. I have to change." You glance at everyone surrounding the table and look at the guests. "Enjoy dinner.” You mumble, “never know when it’s gonna be your last."

"What was that?" The snootiest one snaps at you.

You shrug, "nothing."

"Say it," the girl spits out, not realizing who she’s pissing off.

Mama and Baby take a step back, knowing its best to stay away in case you decide to snap.

You spin around and smile, “sweetie, pissy girls like you lose their boyfriends.”

“What did you just say?” She pushes herself up, the chair legs scraping along the floor, echoing throughout the room.

"Think about it.”

Mama clears her throat, "that's enough now, Pumpkin. Go change before you get cold."

You nod and ignore everyone as you run up the stairs with Baby trailing behind you.

She rummaged through her room, moving the dead cheerleaders so she could find the right clothes to wear. “Are you staying tonight?”

You shrug, “I don’t know yet.”

“I think you should, it's almost time you know.”

“Would it be such a big deal if I left?”

“Uh, yeah. Otis won’t shut up until you call.”

“I doubt that.”

“He wants you. I hear him when he’s trying to come up with a new creation. You’re his muse or some shit. It’d be cuter if he didn’t whine about you.” She throws a shirt in your direction. “You’re all he talks about.”

You start to unfold the shirt and stare at it. “Baby, your shirt is barely going to be able to cover one of my tits.”

She giggles, “I know, gotta show him what he’s missing.”

You push her out the door, “go down and finish dinner before that bitch meets her end.”

She throws her head back, letting the giggles escape as she skips down the stairs.

You sit down beside Otis and glance up to grab your mask when you notice one of them eyeing you. “My eyes are up here.”

The one with glasses turns red. “Oh- I-I wasn’t-”

“I don’t give a shit, don’t look.” You chuckle, “looks like your girlfriends aren't giving you enough attention.”

They shrink under your gaze, even more when their girlfriends start badgering them.

-

You lay on the couch, close to falling asleep when you sense someone else in the room.

“You plan on sleeping there tonight?” He asks, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Maybe.”

“My room’s cozier or whatever shit you girls are into.”

You open your eyes and tilt your head, “do I look like the type of girl who likes cozy?”

For the first time tonight, he smirks. “Hell no, now come on. I gotta show you something.”

You whine, snuggling into the blanket. “But I’m warm.”

He throws his hands up. “Fine, don’t come up. It’s not like I’m in the middle of God's work.”

You sigh and push yourself off the couch, “quite your fucking whining, I’m coming.” You push yourself off the couch and push him to the side.

“Where’d your pants go?”

You pause on the third step, towering over him. “I’m wearing shorts.”

“Those aren’t fucking shorts if your ass is hanging out.”

“My ass isn’t out,” you argue.

“Really, then what’s that?” He points to your shorts.

You glance down, trying to see what he’s seeing.

His hand grips your neck, pulling you close as he uses the surprise advantage, he has over you to stick his tongue in your mouth; his other hand sneaks around your waist as he grips your cheek before smacking it.

You moan into the kiss, placing your hand on his shoulder before sliding it down, slowly rubbing your hand over his growing tent.

He groans under his breath at your touch.

You back, tugging on his lip between your teeth before releasing it. “Someone’s missed me,” you tease.

“No fucking kidding, you’re the one who hasn’t been around to help me. Next time that knock off captain asks for help, tell him no.”

You playfully pout at him before gasping.

“And this,” he adds, sinking his nails into your other set of cheeks. “This feels like you’ve done something different, what changed?”

“I've been working on the ride with Spaulding more.”

“The fuck you been doing? Don't tell me you're fucking him too?” He leans in, lips close to your ear. “You're mine.” 

[blueraineshadows]

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Chapter 12 - Tangled

Tags: NSFW / PTSD / Angst / Violence / Blood / Dark Wizards /

Chapter Master List and Ao3

Chapter Twelve: Tangled

MC

When it came to dramatics, Rookwood had the flair for being unfailingly civilised whilst delicately peeling the skin from your back with his icy words. Dressed like a true English gentleman, there was not a speck of dirt on his coat, his top hat carefully balanced atop his head, his hands clean despite the dirty work being attended to. Rookwood had no need to accumulate grime under his fingernails, or risk a stain on his fine waistcoat when he had lackeys all too eager to do the manual labour for him.

The young man on his knees in the middle of the prisoner tent was sobbing. His hair was a mess, filthy and limp, the skin of his hands and feet black with dirt, his clothing rumpled from several days in lock up. Saliva and blood trickled from his mouth, dripping from his chin to stain his trousers as he tried to choke back the croaky sobs. He shook as he tried to keep his head up, but another booted foot slammed into his ribs and sent him sprawling across the packed dirt floor of the tent.

Rookwood grimaced as though disgusted, throwing a look up at the faded cloth of the tent roof and sighing. “It’s such a shame that it must come to this,” he mused, shaking his head, his tone borderline sympathetic as he looked down at the pitiful sight. “I consider myself a fair man. I treat you well here. There is food to eat, whores to rut with, and a place to rest your head, and yet…and yet, you still betray me.”

To the rear of the tent, MC felt herself stiffen as she watched the scene unfold before her, sick to her stomach at how Rookwood truly believed himself to be some kind of saviour to these Ashwinder followers. Most of them came from troubled backgrounds, seeking a place to belong, and following a darker path because there were no other options for them. The few days she had spent in this Ashwinder camp had brought forth memories of long days in the orphanage, the hollow eyes of hungry children in those dark winter months. Little to live for, and yet you fought to hang on to every moment. It was every man for himself despite the appearances of this being some kind of “family”. 

This was no family. 

The man delivering the kicking was the camp Executioner. A man-mountain with a mask covering the lower half of his face, his eyes cold and brutal as they peered above the cloth. His arms were thicker than MC’s legs, his neck solid, and his feet deadly when aimed at one’s ribs. The man on the floor was clutching his side, his breath wheezing dangerously as blood trickled from the side of his mouth. The glitter of eyes above the mask were those of a predator, the scent of fear and blood inside the tent was palpable, and yet it seemed to rile up those present. Aside from her.

Glancing sideways, she caught the eye of Sebastian, his look dark and brooding as he stood with his arms folded. He met her gaze with the merest hint of a headshake, warning her to keep her mouth closed. It was safer that way, he would say, not wanting her to risk any more attention than she already received from the other camp members. Despite their efforts to maintain an outward appearance of distance between them, Sebastian was still the over protective menace he always had been.

Rookwood paced the floor, slow and deliberate, his forefinger and thumb gently caressing the neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard on his chin. “It is not respectful to bite the hand that feeds you, boy,” he said icily, his eyes like flint in the glow of the lamp. “Let this be a lesson learned. One more toe out of line, and I won’t be so gracious next time.”

The young man merely sobbed and wheezed, barely able to nod his agreement as he tried to get back up onto his knees. Even now, his eyes were turned to Rookwood with pleading, trying to gain some ground by almost worshipping at his feet. MC had to turn her head away from it all, fixing her gaze on the entrance of the holding tent, ignoring the chains and table laden with instruments of pain. 

Footsteps approached her, the delicate scent of cologne reaching her nose as fingers  gently took hold of her chin. Resisting the urge to flinch, MC let the hand turn her head back to the room, meeting a pair of cold, blue eyes. Eyes she had thought closed forever by her own hand.

“Come now, sweet one,” Rookwood said, smiling as though this was some kind of social tea party. “That’s enough drama for one evening, wouldn’t you say? Time for us to have that proper chat I’ve been promising you. Shall we?”

He offered out his arm, the very image of genteel behaviour, whilst his eyes sent shards of ice down her spine. MC swallowed hard and kept her chin lifted, maintaining a cool expression as she nodded. Hating every moment of this, she put her hand into the crook of Rookwood’s elbow, her eyes daring to glance towards Sebastian once more as she was led towards the tent entrance.

A muscle was twitching in Sebastian’s jaw, his eyes ablaze with barely contained aggravation as he had no choice but to watch her being led away. In the brief seconds they had eye contact, she could feel his frustration, and tried to convey her reassurance. It was all part of the plan, it was all game play. She had to be the epitome of willing and pliable in order to fool Rookwood. She could do this.

The cool, night air hit her cheeks, the freshness of it soothing after the stench of the tent. Rookwood led her across the camp, past fires and gang members huddled under thick cloaks, whilst a cold moon looked down upon on them.

“I hope you find your accommodations here with us suitable, MC,” Rookwood said, strolling along with ease. He flashed a suave smile. “Although, I am sure anything beats the comforts of Azkaban. Our humble tents must feel like palaces in comparison.”

A pallet on the floor of a tent shared with a female Ashwinder who snored louder than a Graphorn could hardly be described as luxury, but she managed a smile in return nonetheless. “I manage just fine, thank you.”

“No trouble from other campmates?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “I call us a family, however I am not so much of a fool to believe that bad behaviour won’t take place. The disappointing scene in the tent just now merely proves my point.”

“I can handle myself,” she said firmly, her face hardening.

Rookwood’s smile dripped with cold delight. “Oh, I know, sweet one. I know. I also know that despite your murdering little hands wiping out his uncle, Sallow seems rather taken with ensuring your safety. He was most keen to have you out of Azkaban, and assured me that I would be in need of his assistance should you choose to resist joining my crew. It’s a curious little set up we have here. It makes one wonder where loyalties truly lie.”

Arriving outside the larger, and far more elaborate tent that Rookwood used, MC fought the tight feeling in her chest as she maintained her careful indifference. 

“I’m loyal to myself,” she said, the words falling from her mouth with surprising ease. When she met his cold, enquiring eyes, she didn’t flinch. “When you spend years alone in a prison cell, you have plenty of opportunity to think. I’ve been let down all my life, and I’m not about to expect anything different any time soon. Sallow is one of those who let me down. If he wants my loyalty, he will need to earn it, just like everyone else.”

Rookwood narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “You are a cold little thing, aren’t you?”

MC shrugged and took her hand from his arm, stepping away from him, and her face remained hard. “Can you blame me? Even you need to prove that this is worth my time. You know better than anyone how easily I could wipe you off the very ground you stand upon. I could have this camp ablaze in seconds, and there is nothing you can do to stop it. I’m here because I choose to be. Now, what’s it worth?”

His smile was slow, the greed in his eyes shining brighter than the moon above their heads. His chuckle was low and dark as he lifted the tent flap and gestured for her to enter. “You are delightful. Please, do come in. We have things to discuss.”

Enchanted to be a most luxurious and stately residence, Rookwood’s tent was like a home from home with all the comforts one could wish for. He strolled in and gestured towards a chair decorated with lovely wooden scrollwork, the cushioned seat plush and inviting. MC sat, her back straight, her hands placed loosely on her lap where they were in close proximity to the wand strapped on one thigh, and a silver dagger on the other.

“You know, I remember you when you were a slip of a girl in her Hogwarts robes, sipping butterbeers in Sirona’s bar. It was quite the wholesome little scene,” Rookwood said, casually fetching a wooden chest from a sideboard and carrying it towards the table where she sat. “You are still a slip of a girl, but not so much of the wholesome anymore, hmm? A cold blooded murderer, and an ex-convict. I wonder if those charming townsfolk would still be so quick to jump to your aid these days.”

His eyes were knowing as he brushed back her hair to reveal the prisoner number tattoo on her neck. A shiver swept over her and she glared at him. Did she not shove those very fears deep inside of herself every day? 

“I knew nothing about the power I had back then. Things are different now. I can take care of myself.” In trying to maintain control, her words sounded brittle to her own ears, her mouth tight and almost grim. 

“Indeed,” he smiled, opening the chest on the table with a flick of his wand. He reached in and pulled out some scrolls, the parchment yellowed and faded. “This ancient power you possess is quite remarkable. After seeing it first hand, I was rather intrigued to say the least. After everything with Ranrok, I decided to keep things much closer to home this time around. Doing dirty work for goblins can leave a rather sour taste in the mouth, however, there are benefits to be reaped if you know where to look.”

He held up the scrolls and proceeded to open one with a flourish. 

“These I acquired from a ruined dwelling in Feldcroft, sacking the place for Ranrok in his search for those repositories. It was quite the adventure at the time, the locals having that same annoying wholesomeness as those in Hogsmeade. They came to try and stop us, but as you know, I’m not one to let people stand in my way.”

MC narrowed her eyes. As much as she felt deep bitterness towards Anne Sallow, it was still a terrible thing that happened to her. “I have heard the stories. Even cursing children doesn’t seem to be too much of a bother for you, just so long as you get your way. Children should be seen and not heard, right?”

“Absolutely,” he said, the flash of teeth sinister as he grinned. He leant to spread the parchment on the table top, a frown appearing on his brow. “I had to teach a rather annoying brat a lesson when I got my hands on these, actually. Quite the feisty thing, babbling on about taking things that didn’t belong. She tried to stop me, even dared to raise her wand at me, but I put a stop to that.”

MC stared at him, trying to picture a healthy and furious Anne and realised it wasn’t too hard to imagine. Like Sebastian, she had fight and stubbornness. MC had to be careful with her words here. Revealing that she knew the child he had cursed would open up questions she couldn’t answer. Not just because of the pact she had made with Sebastian, but for their own safety within the gang. After years of earning Rookwood’s trust, she couldn’t blow Sebastian’s cover for being here.

“How does one teach a child a lesson exactly?” She asked, tilting her head as though curious. In all honesty, she was curious. If she knew what Rookwood had done, it could help Sebastian find a cure. “Did you kill the child?”

“Not exactly,” he said, a smug smirk twisting his lips as he glanced at her. “A rather handy curse of my own design. No instant death for that little brat. No, a slow and painful one for her. I wonder if she is still suffering? Perhaps she thinks twice before crossing someone she shouldn’t these days.”

He had the audacity to laugh as he pondered these thoughts and MC felt her stomach twist with nausea, wondering how a man could so casually cause such trauma towards a child when he had a daughter of his own. Anne had not learnt her lesson, though, happily throwing MC into Azkaban to serve her own selfishness. It would appear she had not learned a lesson despite her pain, and MC found she could not hold on to her sympathy for long, her own blood crackling with vengeful desire.

“No cure for such a curse, then?” She asked, her gaze dropping to the parchment on the table. 

Rookwood gave her another sinister smile. “No cure. That’s the beauty of it. A curse of my own making, all those I have chosen to bear it will suffer until their death, or mine, and I have no plans to leave this mortal realm just yet.”

“You are quite the villain, aren’t you?” She said, and not in an impressed kind of way.

He laughed, loud and heartily. “Why, thank you.”

Of course, he took it as a compliment. Hardening her resolve even further, she gestured towards the parchment on the table. “So, what’s next in your twisted little games? I’m going to assume you need my help with it. Why else would you want me here?”

“Straight to the point. I like it,” he said, satisfaction gleaming in his smile. “This scroll belonged to Isadora Morganach. You and I both know the significance of this particular witch, so there will be no need for any pretending here. We also both know that Isadora spent a considerable amount of time researching your ancient magic, and this is what appeals to me. My family was involved with this power once, and I intend to continue that tradition. That’s where you come in, sweet one.”

MC knew this would be coming, Sebastian had warned her, and Rookwood had shown his hand all those years ago when he had snatched her from the street outside Ollivander’s. Swallowing tightly, MC leaned over to take a look at the parchment, recognising the inked hand of Isadora. It was, indeed, a part of her research, outlining the deposits of ancient magic that seemed to store themselves in locations scattered across the land. MC felt a sinking sensation as she read, anticipating where this was headed.

“You are interested in locating more deposits,” she said flatly, looking up at him.

So smug. The greed was sickening as he smiled at her. “You catch on quick, sweet one,” he nodded. “You’re the only one who can see these deposits, and once absorbed, they will increase your capabilities. Imagine the power you could possess, the deeds you could achieve.”

“I am fully aware of these deposits and what it could mean, Rookwood,” she said, shrugging. “I have come across them before around the Highlands. I fail to see how this benefits you, though.”

His eyes narrowed. “With your power, and my connections, imagine the team we could be. Greatness, MC. Who could stand against us?”

“Us? You want me to work for you?” She needed to hear him spell it out, let him spill his lies whilst he aimed to collect her like one of his relics.

“With me, MC. I wish for us to work together,” he said smoothly, placing his hand against his chest as though this was heartfelt. It sickened her stomach. “Together, we could build something truly remarkable. I would fulfil a birthright, standing beside you, a pillar of strength that would see you reach your full potential, and therefore, claiming your own birthright. Do you not wish to finish what Isadora began? Together, we could finish her research, delve even deeper into what this magic could mean, push the boundaries out and achieve greatness. Does that not sound like something that could fulfil you? Claim back what you deserve, MC. After the darkness of Azkaban, this could be your light.”

The silence of the tent seemed to press in upon her, heavy with the weight of his words that were spoken with only his own selfish intent in mind, and yet the temptation of what he implied was undeniably tangible. It almost brought tears to her eyes how he was cleverly appealing to what she truly did desire, her own redemption in a way, a path to walk that would finally give her the sense of belonging she craved.

The gut punch of it all came when faced with the darker agenda he had planned, to build her up only to tear it all away from her and claim it as his own. A truly twisted game that he had every intention of winning. But, he couldn’t win. She wouldn’t let him. She had to play the game harder and slicker than him, draw on everything she had learned in order to survive, and she wouldn’t do it alone. 

Knowing that she had Sebastian standing at her side helped to keep the steel in her spine as she stared at Rookwood, even if Sebastian, too, had his own selfish reasons to help her, she knew he would have her back, just as he always had. There was also the knowledge that she had the British Auror Office in the wings, her very own Auror waiting for her in London who had already proved just how far he would go to help her. Despite feeling like she didn’t deserve it, she was grateful to have Leander in her life. She only hoped she could pay his loyalty back and pull this off.

“You paint a pretty picture, Rookwood,” she said, tilting her head, considering him. “I won’t deny the appeal of it. But, I’m not so foolish as to trust you. You have form, something you don’t even deny.”

He gave a nod, a pretty image of respect that didn’t do anything to make her think he meant it. His showmanship was a smoke screen she saw through well enough. “Is it not enough that you would hold all the power? As you so rightly said, you could end it all with one flick of your wand, and I would be useless against such a display. I merely intend to be at your side, a guiding hand if you will. My Ashwinders will be of assistance whilst you seek out these deposits and uncover your potential. Your guardian army, you might say.”

He was a dreamer, a man who aimed high, and believed he could get there by using any means necessary. Not to take anything away from his cunning, and his clear skill at leading people, but MC suspected there was a weakness in there to press on. His greed and desire for greatness could be his undoing, his ego something to be stroked. Her barriers were firmly in place, but her mouth smiled at him as she touched her hand to Isadora’s research paper.

“Then I guess I have some reading to do,” she said, keeping her tone carefully neutral. “I don’t see the harm in seeing where this could lead. I might have some requests, though.”

“What do you need?” He asked, holding out his arms as though he could grant her any wish. 

“If we are going to hunt down these deposits, then Sallow comes with me. He aided me as a girl, we work well together, and he has experience in helping me with my magic.”

“Is that so?” Rookwood’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you think he can be trusted with this?”

She summoned every scrap of determination she could muster as she made her voice cold and seemingly uncaring, whilst her blood burned to utter such words. “He knows if he betrays me I could wipe him from existence, just as I did his uncle. He will help me. He is almost as enamoured by my magic as you are, he won’t be able to resist it.”

Rookwood’s look was calculating as he studied her, his fingers stroking at his beard. “Imagine how different life could have been if you had taken this opportunity when I had offered it to you outside Ollivander’s that day, the deaths that could have been avoided, a prison sentence not served, the greatness you could have achieved already.”

His words hit like blows to the gut, and she fought the urge to cower against the breathtaking twist of grief that slammed into her chest as she thought of Professor Fig fading in her arms under the school. Guilt was cold and cruel, no forgiveness great enough to appease the horror of that moment, something she struggled with day by day. She fixed her gaze on the parchment, the words blurring through the haze that descended over her eyes as she fought to keep control of her emotions. The wounded dark of her heart threatened to spill forth, but she choked it back, blinking furiously as she focused on each breath, in and out, clinging to calm.

Her choices had been her own, and she had tried to avoid the temptation of darkness, but the fear that a piece of it lingered within scraped tempting claws through her soul. It whispered to her, weaving the spell of temptation and calling her home. It was in her blood. It was her birthright, was it not? 

No. There was always a choice. Ominis was her proof of that and she held it tight, close to her chest. She had the power to make her own choices.

Stiffening her spine, she turned hard eyes towards Rookwood. “I guess it all comes down to timing. That, or, everything happens precisely when it means to, regardless of how dark things may be.”

“You believe in fate?”

“We live in a world of magic,” she said, lifting her eyebrows at him. “I’ve learned to accept that anything is possible. Now, let’s see if we can’t find a starting point for our search, shall we?”

….*….

The night held a chill that seeped into your bones, the camp mostly quiet, guards posted at the borders keeping watch for any sign of trouble as the rest of the Ashwinders sought rest or sustenance. MC sat huddled on her straw pallet, a cloak wrapped around her despite the casting of a warming charm, her tent companion snoring loudly beside her. Surrounded by people, the loneliness held a stealthy position at her shoulder, the weariness of having to mask her truth bearing down upon her.

Agreeing to walk willingly into Rookwood’s trap had set a course she needed to hold despite every instinct telling her to run. It was a dangerous game, but it held promise. Rookwood had been right about one thing. Her truth, her power, it was all connected to Isadora, and any evidence gathered was another step towards discovering who she was. MC had to snatch every opportunity that came her way, even if that meant dancing with the devil for a time.

Feeling the pinch of the lonesome darkness, she retrieved her secret parchment and laid it flat against a book, tapping her wand to the blank paper but revealing no new words. Swallowing down the disappointment, she felt that warmth she had shared with Leander slipping further into the shadows. His contact had been brief and polite for the last few days, words seemingly professional and distant, a mere touching base that covered her required check in with Aurors and nothing more. The wrench of missing him cut a fresh scar in that soft part of her she hid away, and even though it was for the best, she couldn’t help but grieve for what she was allowing to slip through her fingers. She, too, had been withdrawing away from him, and it had proved harder than she had expected. 

The urge to see him swelled to the point that she was reaching for her quill, summoning the words to send off to him, a craving to see the warmth of his honey brown eyes making her bite her lip as she began to write. Whilst keeping her words as professional as he had set the tone for, she suggested a face to face report, an opportunity to look upon him once more before setting off in search of ancient magic deposits. Tapping her wand to the page, she watched the ink fade and vanish, knowing he was unlikely to see it until tomorrow. She imagined him safe and sleeping in his bed at his flat, drawing comfort from the image, a soft smile curving her lips. She couldn’t help but cling to the life line he had thrown her way after pulling her out of the frigid dark.

Putting her quill and parchment away, MC eyed the lumpy pillow and shifted on her hard mattress, missing the soft warmth of Leander’s bed. Perhaps it was a step up from the stone ledge of prison, but the snoring beast of her companion took away the peace and privacy, and she doubted sleep would deign to visit her tonight. Sighing, she clambered up and out of the tent, pulling her cloak around herself as she stepped out under a star sprinkled sky. Looking up she breathed in the crisp night air, filling her lungs with mountain breeze, camp fires and woodland. The promise of freedom lingered in that scent, but she was just as chained as ever, bound to a fate that could have been laid out before she had even entered this world. 

Putting one foot in front of the other, she focused on the promise of being able to make her own choices, lost in her own head as she came across a dark figure in the shadows. Halting immediately, her hand hovering near her wand holster, she remained poised as Rosier stepped towards her. He was so very handsome, his smile designed to lure in unsuspecting souls for sure. She relaxed her hand, but left it hanging loose near her thigh, nodding in greeting.

“If it isn’t our chosen one,” he said softly. “Where are you slipping off to at this time of night?”

“The usual,” she shrugged. “Always assume I’m up to no good, it avoids disappointment.”

He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Want some company whilst you raise mischief and mayhem?”

“A tempting offer, but one I must decline,” she said, pouting her lips in an image of regret.

“Of course,” he smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets and nodding towards a tent at the other end of camp. “He’s alone in there. I will be gone for a few hours. Make the most of it, darling. Go make mischief.”

Pulling her gaze from the tent Rosier shared with Sebastian, MC stared at him, the knowing glint in his eyes making her stiffen slightly. “Make the most of what, may I ask?”

He smirked and moved to step away. “When eyes speak as yours do, there is no need for words. Don’t worry, my lips are sealed. Sebastian is a good man, one of the best in this shit hole. He has been good to me. I won’t betray him.”

MC stared at him, keeping her silence as she shivered under her cloak. What did her eyes reveal? Had her mask slipped enough for others to see her truth, too? Turning her gaze back to Sebastian’s tent, the danger that hung over their heads felt like strings pulling them in every direction with no escape. So much for that freedom.

Rosier paused, turning back to her, his hand touching lightly to her elbow and making her face him once more. “Oh, and be careful,” he murmured in a low tone. “Luella. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating her. Don’t turn your back for a moment. Understand?”

MC nodded, her throat tightening as he brushed the pad of his thumb across her arm, that alluring smile soft on his face as he turned and walked away from her, vanishing into the night as though he had never even been there at all.

Of course, her feet led her to Sebastian’s tent, no matter how many times she told herself that she needed more time, that he needed to prove that he was worth the wait, she returned to him regardless. Lingering at the entrance, she debated the wisdom of going inside. Ever since they had slept in the cottage at Feldcroft, she had kept a reasonable distance between them, offering up the illusion that they were acquainted before the other camp dwellers and nothing more, whilst in reality their blood sung for each other in a way only they could understand. It led her here to his presence, answering a call that appeared primal and basic in its instincts.

Lifting the flap of the tent, MC stepped inside, the interior lit with a single lamp. Two bunks on either side, a chest, and a battered wash stand provided minimal comfort. It was basic and threadbare, but she could feel the warmth of magic lending it a far cosier feel than appearances would suggest. Sprawled on the far bunk, his nose in a book, Sebastian appeared relaxed, his hair a tumbled mess and his shirt open at his throat. Jacket and waistcoat were discarded, and an empty bottle of butterbeer sat on the floor by a stack of books. He glanced up as she entered, sitting up immediately at the sight of her, snapping the book shut with a warm smile.

Oh, how that smile seemed to chase the loneliness that persisted at her shoulder, pushing back the shadows that reached with long arms in their efforts to conceal her.

“Am I disturbing you?” She asked softly, glancing over her shoulder to ensure the tent flap was closed behind her. “I checked nobody was nearby before entering.”

“You’re always welcome,” he said, reaching for his wand. He cast a silencing charm, warding the tent to avoid any eavesdropping before beckoning to her. “Come in, take a seat.”

He patted the bed bunk, smoothing the rumpled blanket as he shifted to make room for her. MC unclipped her cloak, pulling it free from her shoulders as she moved to sit. His eyes never left her as she got comfortable, a softness lingering around his mouth. It wasn’t the look of a violent Ashwinder, just the boy she had once known.

“What were you reading?” She asked, gesturing towards the book he had abandoned.

“Tales of King Arthur and the Round Table,” he said, picking it up and handing it to her. “I wanted to refresh my memory on what Muggles had written about Merlin. They do love to embellish their legends. Their ideas about magic are rather amusing compared to the real thing, however, some of their words hit a little too close to home sometimes.”

MC smoothed her fingers over the book cover, absently following the embossed title. “What prompted the idea to read about Merlin?”

“You, of course,” he smiled. “Or rather, your ancient magic. Do you remember helping that witch, Nora Treadwood? She published her research on Merlin and I read a copy recently, intrigued by the possibility that Merlin could have been a host of ancient magic. Those trials we completed in the Highlands seemed to come naturally to you. I thought it might be worth reading up on it all.”

She couldn’t stop her smile as she looked at him. It hadn’t been a lie to request his presence at her side in order to help her seek out ancient magic deposits. His enquiring mind and ability to maintain vast amounts of knowledge were invaluable. It came easy to admire him for it, and she knew he was wasted here in this camp of criminals. He should be working for the Ministry, or teaching as a Professor somewhere, not thieving and committing acts of brutality.

“Did you learn anything interesting?” She asked, flipping the book open to a rather colourful illustration that caught her eye.

Sebastian leaned closer, peering down at the open pages. “The character Morgana is of particular interest I think. She is presented as an apprentice to Merlin, and then a villain. Some have suggested she was a lover, perhaps, but she is always cunning and powerful. I’d bet a few galleons that she was a Slytherin.”

Their eyes met, that inexplicable tension crackling between them. “Maybe she was. Perhaps she slept in the same dormitory as me. It’s strange to think of it.”

MC looked down at the artwork in the book, the robed drawing of Morgana seemed oddly familiar and she couldn’t place why. She had not seen this book before, she was sure. When she had read the legends of King Arthur, her copy had been a rather battered version she had smuggled into the orphanage, and she didn’t recall any artwork inside. 

“Not that strange,” Sebastian murmured, looking thoughtful. “Some of the greatest witches and wizards of our world walked the halls of Hogwarts. What I would give to be able to sneak into the restricted section of the library one more time. I bet there would be something down there about her worth reading, something hidden from the muggle world.”

MC bit her lip, her finger tracing the artwork of the legend herself in the book. Her next words could potentially start something she might regret, breach a trust that had been placed upon her in order to help her, but it could also further her quest for more information. Looking at Sebastian now, the temptation to utilise that brilliant brain of his was so strong, that she was speaking before she could change her mind.

“What if I told you that I could do one better than the library at Hogwarts?” She said, lifting her eyebrows and fighting back a smile at the spark of interest in his gaze. “What if I told you that I had someone doing a little digging in the Ministry archives on my behalf? I could whisper Morgana’s name in his ear and see what turns up?”

“Who would do that for you? Not Prewett, surely?” 

“No, not Leander,” she shook her head. “But, I’m not going to name who it is and risk him being caught out. He is doing me a huge favour gathering information at the risk of his own neck. I’m not going to unleash the chaos that is Sebastian Sallow on to him for his trouble.”

“I am not chaos,” Sebastian scowled, puffing out his chest indignantly.

She smothered a chuckle, recalling the similar jest Ominis had made at their last meeting, and nudged her shoulder into him. “I beg to differ.”

His lips twitched and he huffed with amusement, his fingers gently encircling her wrist, his thumb tracing a slow circle over her pulse point. “I’ve missed this,” he whispered. His brown eyes lifted to meet her gaze, the warmth in them seemingly boundless and undeniably alluring. “I’ve missed you.”

Her chest swelled with an ache so fierce she had to catch her breath for a moment, staring into his eyes and knowing without doubt that she had missed him too, missed these chats and picking each other's minds about things. Such simplicity, but it meant so much.

“You know, it was moments like this that kept me sane in that place,” she said, her voice a little hoarse. “When the cold and dark felt like it might swallow me whole, I would allow myself to think about times we had spent together, just doing silly things like studying, or walking around the Black Lake at the weekends. Thinking of you chased back the darkness for a moment, but then I would have to suppress all thought of you, hide you away in my most secret, put away heart so that the Dementors couldn’t steal all trace of you from my mind. They were drawn to any happy thought, and I think I might have died if they had taken you from me.”

Fighting back her own tears, it made her stomach twist to see his eyes burn with his own sadness, the devastated look on his face painful to witness. He cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer so that their foreheads touched. “I can never repay the debt that I owe you,” he said, his voice pained. “You should never have been sent to Azkaban in the first place, and I will never forgive myself for it. Hearing what you had to endure in there…”

He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to finish his sentence, his grip on her neck tightening. “I’m so sorry.”

They were words she needed to hear, and she did believe him. She had seen him at his most vulnerable, held him at his lowest points, and she did not imagine for one moment that this was anything but genuine regret. It might not make up for what she had lost, or take away any of the horror that she had suffered, but it did ease some of the ache in her chest to hear him say it. Lifting a hand to his cheek, she soothed him with a gentle caress, trying to show him that she appreciated what he was saying to her because words would not come past the tightness in her throat.

He opened his eyes, his head still leaning against her as he stared, gaining some control over his emotions. “I thought about what you said,” he began, his fingers trailing down her neck and back up again. “You said the pact that we made held you just as captive as your cell did, and you were right. I never intended to trap you with it. I just wanted us to never feel lonely again, to always know that we had each other no matter what. I hate that it only managed to keep us apart for so long, trapped by its bond, you were forced to remain in darkness or die. That’s not what I wanted, not at all.”

“I was angry when I said that,” she said, stroking back his hair. “Yes, I was bound by it, but I also clung to that bond whilst I was in there. It was my only link to the outside world. Knowing we were bonded meant that I wouldn’t be forgotten, although I did used to wonder if you had moved on with your life without me. I could only hope that you would be waiting on the day of my release. It’s what made finding out about Luella so gut wrenching.”

“I never moved on,” he said vehemently, holding her head so that she was angled perfectly to look at him, his eyes ablaze with emotion. “I could never move on. I was always waiting for you to come back to me. I held on to that bond, too.”

He shifted, digging into his pocket to pull out the amulet, the delicate silver charm encasing the blood red stone of their spell. He held it up between them, the lamp light catching the stone and making it shimmer to life. 

“I would look at this every night, terrified that I would forget your face,” he said, smoothing his thumb over the stone. “This means something, MC. It will always mean something. I am yours, and you are mine.”

Slowly, MC touched her fingers to the stone, remembering vividly the way their blood had entwined and solidified to create it in the flickering candlelight of the Undercroft. Too young for marriage, they had turned to darker magic to pledge themselves to each other. Their youth had perhaps impacted on their choice of words, rendering them so bound to each other that it had trapped them. In another way, they had perhaps not linked themselves deep enough. Despite this pact, they had both taken another lover, given themselves to someone else when that shouldn’t have been possible. When you’re young, you don’t even consider the consequences, or anticipate extreme circumstances, you just rush headlong in with passion and the strength of will that comes with youth.

“I am yours, and you are mine,” she repeated softly, testing the feel of those words on her tongue.

A hopeful smile curved Sebastian’s mouth as their fingers touched around the stone. “Turn around,” he said softly. She gave him a curious frown, but he merely let his smile widen as he motioned with a finger for her to do as he asked, holding up the amulet. 

She shifted on the bed, turning so that she had her back to him. Gently he gathered up her hair, and she helped him hold it up, shivering as he leant around her. His breath was warm as it fanned across her neck, his fingers fiddling with the amulet as he arranged it so that it lay over her collar bone. Closing her eyes, she felt the delicate brush of his fingers as he fastened the silver chain that held it, a soft sigh leaving her mouth as she felt the warmth of his lips at the back of her neck in a lingering kiss.

“I’ve been the sole guardian of our pact for too long,” he said, his mouth so dangerously close to her tingling flesh. “It’s your turn to take care of it now. Wear it, and remember how much you mean to me. Feel it against your skin, a reminder and a promise.”

“What kind of promise?” She asked, tilting her head as she held the amulet in her hand.

“My promise to you that I will never stop fighting for you,” he said, resting his face against the back of her neck, his breath hot and his lips teasing as he spoke. “You said you needed time, and you shall have it, but I will be here waiting for you. It will always be you, MC. Always.”

Her heart seemed to skip a beat, thudding hard against her ribs and stealing her breath. Turning to him, she met with his addictive gaze and he was unflinching, constant and set on his course. She let the amulet rest against her chest and his gaze dropped to it, his finger gently curling under the slender chain and dragging along the sensitive skin of her collar bone, making her breath catch in her throat.

“It looks good on you,” he whispered, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

“Thank you,” she murmured, still touching the amulet, the blood red stone warm under her fingertips. All too aware of how dangerously close they were, the scene intimate and loaded with tension, she wondered if perhaps it was too much, too soon. “It’s late. I should get back to my own tent, I suppose. You can get back to your reading.”

“Stay,” he said, a finger caressing under her chin. “You can make yourself comfortable while I read, just like we used to years ago. No pressure, no expectation. Just you and me.”

Once again, she found herself unable to say no, reluctant to return to that cold, uncomfortable tent and her snoring companion. With him settled back with his book, she curled up beside him, their bodies snuggled close on the narrow bunk, her head on his chest where the steady rhythm of his heart both soothed and comforted so close to her ear. He was warm and solid, his arm naturally draping about her waist as he began to read. 

Tomorrow loomed, and all the tomorrows that would come after, but for now she felt safe, the tension gradually easing from her chest as she lay there. They had lain together like this so many times, quite content in each other’s silence, and it was perhaps no surprise how easily they had resumed this closeness. Nothing was ever that simple, though, not really. But, she would take it, her hand curling into the fabric of his shirt as her eyelids grew heavy. Sleep had come to claim her after all, her mind embracing the darkness whilst she lay safe in the arms of a guardian. 

Leander

Pale sunlight filtered through the kitchen window and illuminated the parchment placed neatly on the table top. Delicate swirls of steam curled upwards from a freshly brewed tea, and the distant crash of Atlantic ocean waves stole the silence of the morning. Leander had arrived at Shell Cottage early, checking the property and taking the time to stroll the coast path to breathe in the clearer air. It was always good to escape the oppressive smog of London and refresh one's head. Everything here was as it should be, and yet the sense that things were all out of kilter clung annoyingly along his nerves.

There was a flutter of anticipation in his tummy as Leander allowed his gaze to lift once again to the ticking clock on the mantel. It kept good time, and mere minutes had passed since he had last checked, but the seconds appeared to drag on endlessly as he waited. It had been a few days since MC had left to seek out the Ashwinders, and whilst he had tortured himself with possible scenarios of what she could be doing in her absence, the bottom line remained the same. He missed her. 

In the short time they had spent in each other’s company, she had embedded herself so thoroughly into his life that it seemed a struggle to traverse the path of his days without her. No soft humming from the other room, the floral scent of her perfume was fading from his flat, and his bed had never felt so large and empty. There couldn’t be a clean break from her either, not unless he handed her case over to another Auror, and there was no chance of him wanting to do such a thing. It had become personal, no matter how many times he told himself that it couldn’t be. He had to continue, and the new information that Larson had managed to pull up were missing pieces in the history of what made MC such a unique witch. 

His long, freckled fingers touched to the file on the table beside him, handed to him only yesterday by Andrew. He had kept it tucked safely in his robe away from prying eyes. It exhausted him trying to be this double agent, working diligently to assist his fellow Aurors on the team, and yet keep secrets from them to help MC. Whilst dreams as a boy of thrilling adventures had seemed like the ideal way to live, actually having to experience such things was another matter entirely. 

But, would he stop?

Absolutely not. There was more to this, he could feel it. His instincts told him not to give up. Not on MC, and not on the case. 

The only other snag in the works was his enthusiastic partner, Ivy Montgomery. The new recruit had been accompanying him on all investigative outings, her sharp eye and quick thinking proving to be quite the asset. But, this meant that she would be astute enough to pick up on any details concerning MC should she be given the chance to get too close. Details that were far beyond the necessary realms of the case. Not only that, but after McKinnon’s betrayal, the wariness to trust again lingered.

Touching his fingers to his tie, he straightened it and swallowed, remembering how awkwardly he had to rebuff Montgomery's eager anticipation when she realised he would be meeting with MC today. She had looked up at him, her bright eyes keen, her cheeks pink from hurrying to catch up with him as he had left the office last night. It was out of the question to bring her to Shell Cottage, and he had put her off the meeting, suggesting she attend the next one instead. Her deflation had made him want to squirm, and he had sent her off to enquire after a lead on the missing Boleyn necklace today. A chance for her to work on something alone to appease the denial of meeting MC face to face.

He could understand the fascination, of course, the lure of the exceptional, the chance to sink her teeth into the heart of this case as a newly fledged Auror. Leander had taken the responsibility of MC’s covert role into his hands, and now felt a reluctance to let anyone else interfere. The mantra that this had nothing to do with the emotional attachment he felt towards MC seemed like a waste of energy, and yet he still foolishly told himself that it was the case. 

Had he not told MC that this was more than just a job? They had been his exact words. He carried the secret parchment they shared messages on within his pocket, and checked it regularly for any word from her. He was just being careful, of course. Her mission was a dangerous one, placing herself in the company of some of the most notorious people in the country. It would be remiss of him to not be vigilant. It was his responsibility to ensure her safety, and know of her whereabouts after all. These were the words he comforted himself with when he lay awake at night thinking about the softness of her lips, the way her eyes darkened in the candlelight…

Tapping fingers nervously on the table top, his leg bouncing under the table, he tried not to let his anxiousness take over. Fighting back his affections for her, he had tried to maintain a professional manner, his written communications with MC presented as polite and focused on the Ashwinders. Behind that, he ached to hear her voice, have her close, despite knowing it was futile to dwell on any dreams of more. It meant he would likely say something foolish, and the little time he had with MC couldn't be wasted on such things. 

Even so, when the crack of Apparation sounded from the living room, he was on his feet in an instant, the chair scraping back across the floor as he hurried towards the door. She turned towards him, her face pale and tired, her hair braided and her clothing dark. In one piece, and with no sign of injury, he felt some of the tension ease from his muscles. 

“Hello, Lee,” she smiled, her eyes captivating in the light flooding through the window. 

Where was his professionalism now? What use were his manners? Her smile, her warm gaze, her hands reaching out towards him, and he was across that room in a few strides. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close until he could feel every inch of her, the scent of clear air, wood smoke, and something else he couldn’t quite place, filling his nose. 

“MC. It is a relief to see you safe,” he said, his hand finding its way to cup the back of her neck. “How has it been, really? Are they treating you as well as we can hope?” 

“I am alright,” she replied, giving him a most welcome squeeze before slowly withdrawing. She placed her hands on his arms as she looked up at him. Such bravery she held firm on her face, that stoic way she had of keeping everything else tucked away. “The time spent within Ashwinder territory is useful despite the company I must keep. We knew it wouldn't be luxury, but I can manage. You should not worry about me.”

“I would find it easier to stop breathing, I am sure,” he said, his eyes drinking in the sight of her knowing time was short. 

“I would rather you remained breathing,” she said softly, her hands gripping his arm. A shadow passed across her pale face. “I don't ever wish to place you in danger. You must know that. It is regrettable that Sebastian knows that I lay with you, but when confronted with him, I am afraid that feelings and tempers got the better of us.”

“You fought with him over us?” Leander felt his chest tighten, trying to imagine how that would play out. Sebastian would not have taken that news well.

She glanced down at her left hand, fingertips touching her scar. How he detested that mark on her skin. “In a way, yes,” she said, making a fist. “Let's just say it was messy and ugly, but done now.” 

“What does that mean?” He frowned.

Her face became resolute, her chin lifting in that stubborn way of hers. “In order to move forward, to get this done, I need to face the reality that my fate and Sebastian’s are tangled up in ways I cannot begin to explain. I have to find peace with it, or lose my mind trying to fight it. It's complicated, but however things play out, I am bound to him, and him to me.” 

Leander dropped his gaze, that tight, sickening feeling beginning to swirl in his stomach as her words sunk in. It would always be Sebastian. No matter what. 

“But, I will not allow him to hurt you,” she said, her countenance softening as she touched a hand to his cheek. He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and found that warmth he had always craved from her. “He is angry, and jealous, but if he dares to cast at you, I will take whatever punishment the bond will throw at me to stop him.”

”There is no need for you to do that. Not for me. I can look after myself. I have been fighting against Sebastian for years.”

”I know,” she said, sighing. She shook her head, and winced. “I fear I may have made things worse between you both.”

“It was mutual consent, MC. It took the both of us to become intimate, and on more than one occasion,” he reminded her, his mouth curving in remembrance. His fingers had found their way to her jaw, caressing upwards to the softness of her cheek. “Don’t regret it, for I could never. Not with you, no matter the consequence.”

”Lee,” she whispered, her eyes turning glassy. She shook her head, her face shadowed as she caught hold of his wrist. He could see it in her eyes, she was withdrawing from the affection, throwing up her barriers. “You shouldn’t be saying such things.”

”Do you regret it?” His brow creased, that cold anxiousness clinging to him. Perhaps he was pushing her too hard, and perhaps he shouldn’t be saying such things, but his mouth always had a habit of speaking before thinking.

“No,” she replied immediately, shaking her head. Her gaze was resolute. “I don’t regret it.”

He waited, sensing the inevitable ‘but’ hanging between them. The haunted look she gave him ripped his heart a little, and he knew it would tear further with words she would speak. “I know,” he nodded sadly. His thumb ghosted her jaw, desperately trying to pretend to himself that this didn’t hurt. “It was never intended to be forever.”

Her lips parted as though to speak, but he couldn’t bring himself to hear the words. “No, don’t say it,” he begged. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to those pretty lips, allowing himself the luxury of lingering there, filled with the familiar, aching longing, before withdrawing. 

“Lee, I’m sorry…” 

“It’s alright,” he said, cutting off her plea by touching his fingers to her mouth. He managed a smile as he stepped back away from her, that little tear in his chest pulling sharply at the sadness in her eyes. It would never be alright. 

“Come, I’ve made a pot of tea. I’m sure there is time for a cup as we talk. You can tell me about your meeting with Rookwood, and I have some information from Andrew about ancient magic. It probably throws up more questions than answers, but perhaps it will mean something to you.”

Sitting at the kitchen table, they turned the conversation towards the Ashwinders. He noticed her careful avoidance of mentioning Sebastian too often, but his shadow loomed over it all nonetheless. Hearing the plan to uncover deposits of ancient magic, Leander felt his concerns crowding in, his gaze taking in her small frame. She was stronger than she looked, but absorbing more power only for Rookwood to try and take it made him uneasy. 

“This is a trap, MC,” he said, resisting the urge to place his hand over hers. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.” 

“It’s the best path we have right now,” she shrugged. “Plus, I really could learn more. If Rookwood has more of Isadora’s research, then I need to get my hands on it. Sebastian says that Rookwood is a collector, and he has stores of valuable artefacts and books. If I can discover where he hides this stuff, it would be like discovering a gold mine.” 

“You truly believe Rookwood will ever let you get that close?” He lifted an intrigued eyebrow.

She smiled. “I don’t really have much of a choice but to believe it. He is greedy, and he covets what I am. I let him think he can collect me, take what I want, and then we break him.” 

Her coldness sent a shiver down his spine. Her gaze turned towards the window, her jaw tightening as the shadow of her thoughts passed through her eyes. It still gave him pause to think of the horror she could be capable of, but he refused to accept that the hardness was all she could be. The Auror Office and the Daily Prophet painted her in such a cruel light, but he clung to his faith in that soft part of her she kept so carefully hidden away. He had seen it, he had slept beside it, had felt the flow of what her heart could offer. He just wished she would open herself up to what life could give her. What he could give her.

“Here, maybe this will help in your quest for answers.” He slid Andrew’s file towards her. “The Ministry archives are patchy when it comes to ancient magic. It would seem they either don't understand it fully, or they are covering a lot of it up. Andrew suspects that the Department of Mysteries has a hand in this, but he has no access to their files, and they would definitely refuse permission to look. Unspeakables are a unique breed. Professor Hecat being a prime example.” 

Leander couldn’t help the slight frown that creased his brow. Whilst Hecate was a capable and forthright tutor, he always thought she had a particular dislike for him. 

“I quite liked Professor Hecate,” MC said, her smile turning wistful for a moment, and chasing away that cold mask. “A conversation with her usually proved rather interesting.” 

“Teacher’s pet,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his tea.

MC smirked and picked up the file. “Thank Andrew for me, I know he takes risks to find this information,” she said. “If he hasn’t already, suggest that he look into Merlin regarding ancient magic. He had an apprentice named Morgana who might prove fruitful, too.”

Leander lifted his brows with interest. “Like in the tales of King Arthur? What made you think of that?”

A slight flush of pink coloured her cheeks, and her eyes dipped away. “Actually, it was Sebastian who brought it up.” 

“Of course it was.” His muttered words sounded bitter to his own ears. Getting to his feet, he collected their cups and placed them in the old sink, pulling out his wand to set them to wash. His jealousy threatened to overspill, and so resorting back to cool professionalism seemed the best option in order to maintain some control. “So, when do you want to make the next report? Will you manage to travel by Apparating, or would you prefer Floo points?”

He heard her get to her feet, but kept his back to the room, staring out towards the wide expanse of ocean through the window above the sink. If he looked at her he might crumble again, and that would only prolong the ache that lay heavy in his chest. He had to remain in control. He had to let it go.

“I will remain in constant touch with the parchment,” she said, her footsteps coming closer across the flagstone floor. “I know the terms stated a daily meeting, and I can manage it if you so wish, but I don’t want to make Rookwood suspicious should he be watching me. He already suspects something after I requested that Seb come along to help me search for deposits. He helped me back in our school days, and he has a wealth of knowledge I can make use of. Could we meet in a few days?”

He nodded, his face tight knowing that Sebastian would be a constant at her side. “Of course. Just send word via the parchment when you are ready, and I will meet you. Oh, and I should mention, it’s likely I won’t be alone. I have a new Auror with me for a while. She took McKinnon’s position, and I am showing her the ropes as they say.” 

“She? What’s her name?” Her tone was sharper, almost as though she disapproved.

Leander turned from the sink, moving the now clean cups to the draining board, pondering that thought. “Auror Montgomery. She is astute and bright, so I suggest we keep things strictly professional in her presence. I would rather she didn’t pick up on any over familiarity between us.”

The coolness of his words felt stiff and awkward on his lips. He hated this sense of detachment. It was a breaking, a chasm opening up between them, but his fingers couldn’t bear to loosen their grip. Unable to fully look at her, he moved back towards the table to gather up his notes and straighten his chair, careful to avoid brushing past her where she stood. His foot bumped the table leg clumsily, and he dropped a piece of parchment in his anxiousness, eager to tidy before leaving. 

“If you are that concerned, why can’t we continue to meet alone?” She asked. 

His fingers clenched around the handle of the tea pot, his gaze remaining averted as he turned to place it near the stove. He could feel the burn on his cheeks and knew he must appear flushed. “I’m not sure if that will be appropriate moving forward,” he said, swallowing hard. “You did warn me not to get too close, MC. That will be easier if we maintain a professional stance on things.”

“I really am sorry you know,” she said, her voice low and laced with regret. “I meant it when I said that I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

He couldn’t stand the idea of her pitying him, his teeth clenching at the bitter urge to cry. He really was a pathetic fool. Taking a steadying breath, he blinked a few times. 

“Like you said. You are bound to things in ways you can't explain,” he said, his words tight and weighed down with the weight of his loss. He looked at her at last. “I just hope he is worth this unfailing loyalty you hold for him, MC.”

She stared, her eyes wary as he turned to fully face her, stepping closer so that she needed to look up at him. The unspoken shadow of Sebastian cast over them constantly, and speaking of it was always risky. She bore the weight of Sallow as much as she bore the weight of her own trauma, and all the time that she did, there would never be room for anything else. It consumed, darkened any light he tried to bathe her in, and as much as he wanted her to accept it, she constantly held him at bay. He would have to be the one to break this thread that held them, but he didn’t have confidence in his ability to do it. How could he? His heart had other plans.

“You should know, that if you were to allow it, I would love you until the very end of existence,” he continued, his throat raw with the truth of it. “I would give you everything within my power to make you smile. I got you out of that dark cell where you were fading away. I couldn't bear seeing you in there, trapped in that gods forsaken place for something you didn't even do.”

Her face paled, her eyes darkening with a cold fear. She shook her head, and even took a step back. “What are you talking about?” 

“Don't say anything that's going to hurt you,” he said, shaking his head and grabbing her left wrist. He held up her hand, that vivid red slash on her palm so obnoxious against the paleness of her flesh. “Don't say a damned word to defend him, but I know, MC. The fear on your face at spilling the truth in that interrogation spoke louder than anything you could have said to me. This binding blood pact you made to him, it just sticks in my throat how much you defend Sebastian when he did absolutely nothing for you in return. Do you want to know what I think? I think he killed his own uncle, not you. Sallow always was a self-serving prick, as was his sister, and you would rather run back to him than take a chance to be happy for yourself.”

“Stop it,” she gasped, attempting to pull her arm free from his grip. She had gone deathly pale, the ghosts of her secrets stark in her eyes. It pained him to see it, but it ripped him up inside to know she would never love him like she loved him. “You don't understand.” 

“Oh, I think I do, MC,” he said, letting her wrist go. “I just hope you know what you're doing.” 

“You make it sound so black and white, but it’s not,” she insisted, backing up away from him. The paleness of her face contrasted against the darkness that lingered in her eyes. It made him think of dark angels, tragic souls doomed to sorrow, and he immediately regretted saying anything. Her lips trembled, but he watched her stiffen, slamming up those walls she hid behind. “You think it’s easy, a simple matter of choosing between you and him. You think you want me in your life, but trust me, that is the last thing I would wish for you. I would destroy it. I would bring darkness down upon your head, and then you would end up hating me. I couldn’t bear it. Don’t ask me to risk it. I can’t…” 

“I could never hate you,” he denied, clenching his hands in frustration.

She held up her hands, shaking her head, still backing up. “It would be easier if you did,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “Perhaps you are right. We need to take a step back.”

In defiance of her words and his own insistence that they should do just that, Leander took a step towards her. The thread was stretched to breaking point, she was before him, but it felt like she was slipping away, an apparition that would dissipate into the air and leave him with nothing. 

“Where will you go?” He felt the bite of his fingernails against his palms as he clung to the last shred of his self control. 

“Scotland first,” she replied. “After that, I am not sure, but I will send you updates. I won’t let you down.” 

“Be safe,” he said softly.

The look she gave him tore the crack in his heart until he thought he wouldn’t be able to draw another breath. Her eyes had always held this magical power that hit levels high above anything he had ever known. Just to lock gazes with her could render him speechless, in awe of her, his whole soul belonging to the myriad of flecks and shadows that shone in those blue orbs. Perhaps she had bewitched him, and for a short time, he had held her. She had almost been his.

How was he supposed to let that go?

As she vanished with the sharp crack of her magic, he had thought perhaps there had been a tear escaping from her eye, but he couldn’t be sure. He would likely never know. She was gone, and he stood where he had first kissed her, realising it would likely be the last, too. The kitchen was now empty. The roar of the Atlantic still sounded in the background, timeless and relentless, whilst he was left with broken dreams and a torn hole in his chest.

Sebastian

The tension in his shoulders and arms felt like taut ropes pulled to their utmost, his chest rising and falling with each strained breath, as though a weight pressed down upon him. In his mind, his thoughts spun on a carousel of torture, imagining Prewett laying a hand upon her. The very idea of them being alone together made his blood burn with tumultuous, jealous fury.

In what world could he have ever imagined that MC would feel something for that irritating Gryffindor. Denying it was pointless. He had seen it in her eyes when she spoke of him. She had some kind of affection for Prewett, and it was proven further by her adamant refusal to let him go to the meeting with her. She knew he would annihilate him with a few handy hexes for daring to put his hands on her.

Pacing the space inside his tent appeared to not ease any of his tension, and his hand dipped into his pocket, a moment of panic seizing him as his fingers grasped empty fabric. His gaze darted to his bunk, and his mouth dared curve into a slight smile as he remembered last night. The amulet now hung about her neck, placed there by his own hands. The longing that pierced him as he thought about how she had lay down with him, her body relaxing into sleep against his frame as he had continued to read. So many nights he had ached to do just that, and now she had been beside him twice. There had to be many more times like that, the idea of spending another night apart from her unthinkable now that she was here. He rubbed absently against the scar on his palm, and turned to pace once more, ruffling the unruly strands of his hair and waiting for her return.

The tent flap rustled and Rosier appeared, a smug smirk on his lips as he wandered towards his bunk and sat. “I thought you and your little witch might have still been cosied up together in here,” he said, his eyes roaming over Sebastian’s rumpled bedding. “Where is she?” 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, because he didn’t know where MC had gone to meet with Prewett. 

“Maybe she is off somewhere stewing over this,” Rosier smirked, holding up a copy of the Daily Prophet that he’d had tucked under his arm. He waved it under Sebastian’s nose. “We ought to be careful, mate. She isn’t long out of Azkaban, and I wouldn’t put it past Aurors to have eyes on her.”

Sebastian felt the blood freeze in his veins, and he snatched the newspaper from Rosier’s grip, unfolding it to look down at the front page. A moving photograph of MC with her prisoner number board stared up at him, her young face haunted and broken. Pushing down the memory of those days when she had been taken from him, Sebastian scanned the article written about her release, and how she could be a potential danger roaming the country with all that power at her fingertips. Of course, the Ministry have made their assurances that everything is under control, and they wouldn’t have allowed her to be free if they thought her an immediate danger, however, the reporter had laid it on thick about her ancient magic abilities. 

Sebastian glanced at Rosier, an uneasy edge piling on top of his already agitated nerves. “Have any of the others said anything to you about this?” 

“Not yet,” Rosier shrugged, drawing a cigarette box from his coat pocket. “But, how long before Rookwood has his doubts, if he doesn’t have them already? She is a dangerous little thing, your witch. The Auror Office would be foolish not to keep a close eye on her.”

If Rosier were to discover who MC was with right now, this inflammatory article would carry a lot more weight, and it would make the rest of the camp uneasy. Sebastian dropped the newspaper down onto the bunk beside Rosier and began to pace again. 

“If Aurors are watching, then they must be rather bored by now,” he muttered, pushing a hand through his hair. “Once MC and I leave to seek out ancient magic hotspots, the heat will be off the rest of you. I’m sure there is nothing to worry about.” 

“Not even Lulu?” Rosier gave him an enquiring glance, tucking a cigarette between his lips.

Sebastian’s eyes darkened, his mouth tightening as he shook his head. “I haven’t seen her. I will be leaving with MC today, so she shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“Never underestimate a woman scorned, mate,” Rosier said, the glow from the tip of his wand illuminating his handsome face as he lit his cigarette. “You dropped her for a more powerful pretty, she isn’t going to just forget about it. Just watch yourself.”

Sebastian frowned, the feeling that Rosier was probably right sliding down the back of his neck. All the more reason to get things moving as soon as possible. He moved towards where he had packed some essentials into a leather bag, checking the contents and glancing around to ensure he remembered everything. MC’s bag sat on the bunk, neatly packed and ready to go.

A sharp crack sounded behind him, and he turned. MC stumbled slightly as she arrived, her face drawn and pale, and she wiped her hand swiftly across her cheek. Her eyes were glassy and he wondered if she had been crying. Gaze darting around the tent, she spotted Rosier and she stiffened, striding towards Sebastian’s bunk with a hard look on her face. 

“Is everything alright?” Sebastian asked warily, exchanging a look with Rosier, who merely shrugged. 

“Fine,” she snapped, grabbing up her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. “Let’s get going. We have already lost precious hours of daylight, and the deposits won’t find themselves.”

Sebastian stared at her, noting the taut way her shoulders were held, the tight line of her mouth. The meeting must not have gone well, and curiosity burned as he wondered what Prewett had said to vex her. “I’m ready when you are,” he said, fastening the strap on his bag. 

“Good luck,” Rosier said, giving him a wry smile.

MC remained tight lipped as she wrapped a warm, woollen cloak about her shoulders and stepped towards him, linking her arm around his. “Are you sure you know where to go?”

Sebastian met her gaze, answering the cold hardness that she used as a shield with a smug smirk. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said, subtly tugging her closer. “We will start at the top of our list and work through it. Hopefully, we will strike it lucky.”

With a nod towards Rosier, Sebastian held her firmly and twisted them through darkness, whisking them both away from the camp and right into a cold, blustery wind that cut right across the west coast of Scotland. They both gasped against the force of it, clinging to each other as her cloak snapped and twisted, a fine mist of rain coating their faces.

The small island of Staffa lay surrounded by the swell and crash of the ocean, bleak and deserted, isolated from the mainland unless one dared to reach it by vessel. With the power of magic, they had arrived at the remote location, a place steeped in myth and legend with the locals. Sebastian glanced around them, the rough grass dropping off the cliff edge towards the rocks and surging waves below. 

“The cave is below us,” he shouted against the wind, still holding on to MC as though the strong gusts might carry her away. “It’s tidal, so let’s hope the sea is on our side.”

She leaned forward, staring at the drop, her face still cold and hard. “And you really think there could be ancient magic here?”

He shrugged. “It’s worth a try. The legend of the giant, Fingal, is a well known Muggle story, but it is based on some truth. If we do find ancient magic here, then it might be worth hopping across to Ireland to investigate the other end of the Causeway for more.” 

“Let’s just get down into the cave and out of this wind to start with,” she shouted, pulling her cloak closer. 

Taking a good look at the rocks below, Sebastian gripped her tight and closed his eyes. The rocks below were slippery and shaped like perfectly cut tiles creating a pattern along the cliff base. Waves surged forwards, coating them in spray, and he felt MC’s fingers bite into the back of his jacket as they picked their way along. Columns of rock in identical neat rows wrapped around the cliff face, giving it the appearance of being man-made, the mouth of the cave yawning dark and foreboding with a channel of ocean flooding into it. A pathway made up of the strangely cut rock looked like a winding slab of honeycomb, coated in green weed rather than golden honey. 

“Easy now, and watch your step,” he urged. “It’s wet and slippery all the way in to the cave.”

They carefully stepped their way along, MC still holding his arm despite remaining tight lipped and tense as they moved further into the gloom. The crash of waves echoed against the rock, the scent of the sea pungent as the darkness began to claim them. Pulling out his wand, he held it up. “Lumos!”

MC paused, as did he, their mouths parted as they gazed around at the cave, the walls continuing in row upon row of rock columns. “It doesn’t make sense,” she murmured, tilting her head right back to look at the patterned roof. “Do you think it’s true that a giant built this? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” 

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but the words died on his lips, goosebumps spreading swiftly along his arms and his hair standing on end as a haunting sound echoed through the cave. It was like a humming, or a chanting voice, twinned with an ethereal acoustic that sent shivers cascading through him. He looked at MC, and saw the way her eyes widened as she looked deeper into the maw of the cave before meeting his gaze. 

“What is that?” She whispered, some of the hardness slipping from her features in her surprise. “Mermaids?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so…” 

Not impossible, of course, but he had neither heard nor read of any mention of mermaids being seen here. He stared into the blackness, the eerie sound blending with the roar of the ocean behind them. Instinctively, his arm circled MC’s waist, holding her against him protectively. “Do you feel anything? Could there be magic here?”

She remained silent, and he turned his attention away from the rear of the cave to look at her. Her gaze was lifted to the sound, her eyes glassy and full of shadows. There was pain in her expression, something lost and haunted that pulled sharply deep within his chest. 

“MC? What is it?” 

Her throat worked and she gently shook her head, staring up at the stunning rock face. “There is no ancient magic here. Only ghosts.”

When she finally looked at him, he caught a glimpse of her raw and exposed, but then she slammed down her shields, her eyes flicking away from him. As quickly as that, she had hardened her shell and closed him off. Something was wrong. 

“What happened this morning, MC? You’re different. What happened with Prewett?” 

She wouldn’t look at him, and she pulled back from him, placing a distance between them whilst still keeping their arms linked. “Just get us out of here, we are wasting time,” she said, her mouth tightening as she shivered. 

…*…

The Fairy Pools, Loch Ness, and the Standing Stones of Stenness, all locations of myth and legend and yet, they turned up nothing. The pull of each act of Apparation and taking MC with him was beginning to drain Sebastian. He felt weary, and his head was feeling fuzzy. Frustration hung like a tense cloud, hovering over them and feeding on the icy mood that still clung to MC.

Clipped sentences and hard faced, her mood plummeted as the day wore on. These locations were beautiful, steeped in lore and history, and such visits should have been enjoyable, but there was no spark at all. Not one smile graced her mouth, and her eyes remained distant and seeking out horizons that didn’t include him. 

“We should make camp,” he suggested, looking up to the skies. Thunderheads were rolling in, and the air felt thick and heavy, the tops of nearby mountain peaks vanishing into the misty clouds. “Would you prefer to return to the Ashwinder camp, or make our own?”

The rush of a nearby brook babbled and gushed, the scent of wild grasses and old woodlands heavy in the air. The breeze was chill, and MC held her cloak about herself as she stepped through the spongy bog of ground towards the swift moving stream. Taking out her water skin, she crouched to fill it. Sebastian waited, the long silences that followed any time he spoke were starting to grate on his nerves. It felt like she didn’t wish to speak with him at all, that he was a loose part there for travel convenience and nothing more. The closeness he had felt having her asleep in his arms last night was long gone.

“There is something I need to do,” she said finally, replacing the cap to her refilled skin as she stood. The wind pressed the loose strands of hair from her braid across her face as she turned to look at him, her features firm and resolute. Even in this frosty atmosphere she had weaved today, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sheer beauty of her. “Do you think we could pay a visit to Ominis?” 

“Ominis?” He frowned. “How can he help with searching out deposits?” 

“This isn’t about the deposits,” she said, her gaze following the stream as it wound down the hillside towards the thick cover of trees. “I want to talk to him about the owl he sent me.” 

“Ominis is sending you owls now?” Sebastian frowned and folded his arms as he studied her. “How very cosy.”

She gave him a look, loaded with antagonism. “Don’t tell me that makes you jealous, now, Sebastian. I know the Gaunt family like sharing their blood, but don’t worry, I’m not in the market for a husband, cousin or otherwise. Besides, Ominis already has a wife, doesn’t he? Were you ever going to tell me that he married your twin, or were you saving that loaded whizz cracker as a big surprise?” 

“I wasn’t saving it for anything,” he muttered, striding towards her, heart in his mouth. “What do you mean by not wanting a husband?” 

“I mean exactly that,” she said, a humourless smirk twisted her face. “Seb, I’ve just got out of Azkaban. I am surrounded, once again, by dark wizards and danger, my mother is alive out there in the world somewhere, and my head is fucked up between all of that and all these feelings trapped in my chest that I cannot even begin to comprehend! The last thing on my mind is fucking marriage, and yet, that is what you took from my words!”

Her voice reached squeaky levels of fury, her cheeks flushing, and her eyes blazing with a temper that flickered white and blue. Turning, she stomped her little booted feet across from the stream, marching with a rigid frame towards the mountain trail that led into the forest. Her angry muttering about selfishness and priorities carried on the breeze, and he felt his own patience begin to split and fail. 

“Hey, where are you going?” He called after her, hurrying to catch up. 

“Anywhere away from you,” she snarled over her shoulder. 

“What the fuck did I do?” He huffed, reaching out to try and catch hold of her arm and missing. “I thought things were okay between us now.”

She whirled to face him, catching him off guard with a sharp intake of breath as his booted feet slid on a patch of mud. Thunder rumbled over the mountain, low and menacing, as she screwed up her face in frustration and thumped her fists against her thighs. 

“That’s just it, isn’t it? Everything seems to be alright, and then I start to doubt myself,” she sputtered, eyes dark with agony. “Sometimes I wish I could just turn it all off, stop all this tangled web of feelings inside of me and just exist without any of it having to be so bloody complicated.” 

“You are preaching to the choir, princess,” he said, shaking his head. He jabbed a finger into his own tight chest. “How many times have I wished for something similar? There is a whole cavern of fucked up shit inside here that torments me every single day. I want to shove my own hands inside my chest and just rip it all out sometimes. Drink doesn’t do anything, only numbs it for a while, and gods forbid I ever try and get a good night’s sleep. No, at night, when the world is quiet, my head is screaming at me, reminding me of all the bad shit I can never run away from. So, I get it. I really do.” 

Shoulders slumping, she put her hands to her head and looked up at the heavy sky, pain etched on her lovely face. An agonised sound tore from her throat. “What do I do, Seb? What should I do? We found nothing today, nothing! Rookwood is going to be wanting progress, and Leander…” 

Her words rasped from her throat, desperate and harsh, but her voice cracked when she mentioned Prewett’s name. She squeezed her eyes closed and turned away from him, still holding her head. 

“What about Leander?” He asked, taking a slow step forward as the first few drops of rain began to fall from the swollen clouds. “What happened this morning, MC? You can tell me.” 

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. She brushed back loose strands of her hair and looked up at the sky, drops of rain landing on her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about this morning. We should go. Take us to Ominis before we become swallowed by the storm.” 

He didn’t know why it scared him so much, her reluctance to talk about Leander. The agony on her face, it spoke of strong feelings, and he wondered what torture she meant about the emotions in her chest. Did her affections for Prewett really run that deeply? Fighting the urge to grab her by the arms and demand answers he wasn’t sure he really wanted to hear, he stepped up and merely gently took her arm instead, taking the soft approach as though taming a skittish beast. 

“Alright, we will go to Ominis,” he said, keeping his voice level and calm. “Then we will make a plan for tomorrow. We must be missing something, but we will figure it out, just like we always do. We can read over Isadora’s papers again, and think back over the deposits you found before. One day at a time, MC. That’s how we do it, one day at a time.” 

Pressing her lips together, her eyes glassy and dark, she nodded. “Gods, I knew there was a reason I asked for you to come along with me,” she sighed, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. “You are a pain in my side, Sebastian, but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“I’m not entirely sure how to take that,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her bowed head. 

“Well, it’s the best you’re going to get today,” she mumbled against his coat. 

Smiling into the soft sweetness of her hair, he held her close. “Oh, I’ve missed you.” 

Leaving a stormy Scotland behind, he whisked them away to a smog filled London, and the warm glow of the hearth in Ominis’ kitchen. The warmth of the fire bathed his damp cheeks, raindrops glistened like beads of glass in MC’s hair, and he could smell a rather delicious meal cooking as he glanced around the room. Ominis stood near the mantelpiece, lifting his wand with a curious expression as Sebastian helped MC steady her feet on the wooden floor. 

“Hello, old friend,” Sebastian greeted, his heart lifting at the sight of Ominis in his neatly pressed shirt and tie. “I have brought a visitor.” 

Ominis smiled, moving forward with his wand aloft. “I was wondering when you would show up.” 

MC left Sebastian’s arms and moved toward Ominis, the first shine of hope in her eyes all day lighting her face. “Ominis, I received your owl. You said you had visited with your parents. What did you discover?” 

A shadow crossed Ominis’ face. “I did indeed, and I am afraid they were rather closed off on the matter of Aunt Elizabeth. Father claims she is a traitor, and they have not seen her for many years.” 

Sebastian bit his lip, seeing the disappointment of another failure darken MC’s face. “They could tell you nothing at all?” He asked. 

“It matters not,” Ominis said, moving toward a briefcase on the table. A tap of his wand made the catches unclip and he reached inside to retrieve an old, leather book. He held it up. “Where my parents are a closed book, I turned to the one person who used to never let me down, and even in death, she is there when I need her. Aunt Noctua kept journals, journals that are kept in her house in Norfolk. A house that now belongs to me. A quick trip there, and I may have managed to find some answers for you. Here.” 

He held out the book and MC took it with trembling hands. Sebastian moved to her shoulder and watched as she opened the pages yellowed with age. 

“I had read some of her journals once I obtained ownership of my aunt’s property, but not all,” Ominis explained. “I knew that she had been close with her sister when they were children. She often spoke fondly of her to me. Of course, Elizabeth was already gone by this time, so I never met her myself. Therefore, I chose some diaries that dated previous to my own birth, and discovered that Elizabeth had confided in Noctua over personal matters. You might find dates during the summer of this journal particularly interesting, MC.” 

“What is this?” Anne’s sharp tone cut through the room like a blade. Sebastian tensed and turned to look at his twin standing in the doorway, her arms folded, and her face set into a look that would have put his mother to shame in its level of disapproval. “Tell me, dear husband, why is she in my kitchen?” 

“Anne!” Ominis frowned, aiming his wand towards her direction, the red tip blinking. “Now, now, my love. There is no need to be rude.”

Sebastian immediately put a protective hand to MC’s back, meeting Anne glare for glare as she marched into the kitchen, her hand dipping into her pocket for her wand. 

“No prizes for guessing who brought her here,” Anne scowled, her eyes flashing towards Sebastian before landing on the journal in MC’s hands. “Is that Noctua’s?” 

MC grasped the journal close to her chest, and Sebastian could feel the tension in the muscles of her back. He was immediately on high alert.

“We didn’t come here looking for trouble,” Sebastian said, holding up his other hand. “You certainly don’t need your wand, Anne.” 

“Then, why are you here?” Anne snapped, stubbornly tilting her chin as she raised her wand even higher.

Ominis sighed and pressed fingers to his brow. “Anne, please. Don’t do this.” 

“You know how I feel about this woman, and now she dares to step foot in my house,” Anne glowered. “Did she not learn her lesson the last time she tried to get her feet under my table? You are not welcome here.” 

Anne aimed her wand towards MC, her mouth a bitter line. Sebastian immediately stepped between them both, hands up, desperate to diffuse the situation. 

Anne’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I won’t hex you to get to her?” 

MC’s breaths were harsh at his back, hissing through gritted teeth as she pulled out her own wand and aimed it around Sebastian, both of his girls squaring up to fight with him in the middle. It was the stuff of nightmares.

“You are not going to hex me,” he warned, daring to place the palm of his hand on top of Anne’s wand and gently lowering it. He then moved his hand towards MC’s wand with a pointed look. “Nobody is going to be hexing anyone.” 

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blast you both out of here,” Anne huffed. “The absolute nerve of you to bring her here under my roof.” 

“Hark at you, playing the victim,” MC sneered, aiming her wand straight for Anne. “If anyone is to start throwing hexes around, then that would be me, and I have a very good reason to be here under this roof.” 

“I can think of no reason to welcome you here,” Anne hissed.

“Tell her, Ominis,” Sebastian sighed. “I am assuming she doesn’t know yet.”

Anne’s eyes widened as she looked towards Ominis. “Tell me what?” 

Ominis appeared to brace himself, as always, maintaining that dignified air that made his very presence dominate a room. “No, she doesn’t know. Now, Anne, please try to be reasonable here. It has come to light that MC is, in fact, my relative. Her birth records prove her to be my Aunt Elizabeth’s daughter, and therefore, she is my cousin.” 

Whatever colour had managed to manifest on Anne’s pale face now disappeared, draining from her flesh as she stared aghast. She shook her head, eyes wild as she glanced around at them all. “No,” she breathed. “No, that cannot be. She can’t be a Gaunt… I would know.” 

The last three words tumbled from her lips in a stunned mumble, but Sebastian caught them. His heart jumped, and then stalled in his chest as he seized his twin’s arm in a vice grip. 

“What do you mean, you would know?” His voice was low, dangerous, and his sister turned her big brown eyes up towards his face, all signs of her rage seeping away to be replaced by shock. 

“Indeed, a question I was about to ask myself,” Ominis said, moving slowly forward. He tilted his head, his wand scanning his wife. “Why would you think that you should know this? Because I certainly did not until MC showed me her birth record.” 

Accustomed to usually having the upper hand, Anne floundered for a few seconds, her eyes darting from one to the other. Sebastian savoured her being at a loss. She usually had a quick tongue, which meant that she was searching out a reply, a lie to cover tracks she had not anticipated. He honed in on this vulnerability, his instincts kicking in to delve and uncover. 

“Well, well, it looks like I’m not the only one who has secrets,” Sebastian crooned, poised to pounce. “What have you been hiding, sister dearest? It wouldn’t have anything to do with our parent’s research, would it? You know, the information that you were so desperate to hide away from me.” 

Anne stiffened, her eyes hardening as she stared at him. “It will stay hidden,” she said, nodding as if confirming something to herself. She pulled herself up straight, her eyes sunken into her pale cheeks, a waif of a thing, but capable of being formidable still. “I don’t have to explain myself, especially in front of her. Just as I predicted, it did not take long for her to sink her hooks into you again, and now you are running around like her little errand boy. You think this is love, but it is nothing but a toxic obsession. You are entranced by her power and what she can do, but it blinds you to the danger she is to everyone. I warned you, Uncle Solomon warned you, and now here you are. It will be a cold day in hell before I let her get anywhere close to that research, and wherever you are, she isn’t far behind you. It stays hidden!” 

“I have just as much right to that research as you,” he bit out. “And, what of Ominis? MC is his family. If there is anything in those files concerning her, then it could affect him, too.” 

Anne’s eyes darted towards Ominis and she took a few steps backward, her wand arm shifting in agitated arcs. “How long have you known she was your blood?” 

“A few days,” he admitted. “I needed some time to think it over, and speak with my parents. It was never my intention to keep it from you.” 

“And yet you did,” Anne said bitterly, her rigid facade cracking a little. “Do you agree with Sebastian? Do you think I should let him see the research?” 

Ominis bowed his head in thought, the room stretched taut with tension so thick Sebastian fancied he could smell it. MC was silent beside him, his hand easing up and down her tense back in soothing strokes. 

“What could be in that research that is so terrible, Anne? Would your parents keep it from one of you, but not the other? It hardly seems fair to me.” 

Anne’s face scrunched in fury, a low growl of frustration bursting from her as she clenched her fists. “You do take their side! You agree with them over your wife! None of you understand. I have lost so much already, and yet you push me to risk losing even more. I blame her! I blame that bitch for coming into our lives and ripping out the very beating heart of it, and I will never, ever forgive you for it. Never!” 

Sebastian gaped at his twin, the fury on her wan face was staggering as she jabbed her wand towards MC with a shaking hand. Ominis stepped towards her, his face distressed, but she backed away from him, shaking her head. 

“She had better be gone when I get back,” she spat, her eyes narrow slits as she glared at MC. “I hope never to see you darken my door ever again, and you should stay away from my brother. If there is a shred of decency left in your conscience, then you will do as I ask, before you destroy him.” 

Sebastian could feel MC shaking, but his eyes were fixed on his twin as he tried to process the fury and hate that spilled from her mouth. Could it be the curse making her speak in such a way? His sister had been the other half of his soul his whole life, her hand had always been there to hold, her words a comforting whisper in his ear whenever he would cry as a child. He did not recognise the girl before him now, and he thought perhaps a part of himself was dying right there as she tore at a person who was so important to him. She was cutting him off from his parents and their life work, holding secrets, and acting so ugly that it made his eyes burn with hot tears. 

“Anne, please…” His broken plea came out as a sob, and she met his gaze, a moment of regret quickly shielded as she backed into the doorway, her wand aimed into the room as though they were the enemy. 

“No,” she said through gritted teeth, and then she was gone. A swirl of black and Anne vanished, taking her fury with her like a storm that blew in and out again on the shore. 

Sebastian turned his gaze to Ominis, who held his head in his hands, and then to MC, who met his confused misery with those mesmerising eyes draped in shadow. If she even dared to listen to Anne and abandon him, then hell itself would cower from his rage. How many times could he keep himself upright on his own two feet and watch as someone he loved disappeared? 

His hand gripped the back of MC’s robe as if to keep her there, the fear that she would vanish too made his throat close. Perhaps she sensed his fear, for her hand sought out his and she grasped it in a tight grip, and then she was reaching for Ominis and taking his hand, too. The three of them stood, hands clasped in the ringing silence of the kitchen, as the skies above London burst into a downpour of rain. 

Taglist: @eternalremorse @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @evaslytherpuff @loving-him-was-red13 @sevprince-91 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[speef115]

King Baldwin IV x Female Reader

Warning: Adolescent sex, oral sex, breeding kink

King Baldwin IV found himself in the present day and ended up in (Y/N)'s room by mistake. When (Y/N) saw him, she screamed in surprise.

"I-I apologize! I have no idea how I got here!" Baldwin exclaimed.

(Y/N) exclaimed, "How did you manage to arrive here?!"

King Baldwin IV protested, "I already mentioned, I have no idea!"

After calming down, (Y/N) observed the king closely and remarked, "I recognize you... You must be King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem."

"You are correct. How did you come to know that?" inquired King Baldwin IV.

"I am a fa-," (Y/N) stopped abruptly, looking away in embarrassment.

"Who might you be?" King Baldwin IV inquired of (Y/N).

"I'm (Y/N)," she responded.

"Ah, (Y/N), a unique name," King Baldwin IV said with a smile beneath his mask. He then glanced at (Y/N)'s clothing, "Your garments are quite revealing," he observed.

"I apologize, but this is my school uniform; I'm still a student," (Y/N) explained.

"So, you're saying you're young and still in school?" King Baldwin IV asked.

"Yes, exactly," (Y/N) confirmed.

"What's the current year?" he inquired.

"It's 2024," she answered.

"This must be the fashion for women in your era," King Baldwin IV mused.

"That's correct, but it's not universal for all women," she responded.

King Baldwin IV couldn't help but admire (Y/N)'s flawless legs peeking out from her very short plaid skirt.

(Y/N) blushed and pleaded, "Could you please not gaze at me like that."

"I-I'm sorry, it's just that I've never seen a woman dressed like this before, and, well, you're quite captivating," King Baldwin IV admitted, blushing beneath his mask.

"Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?" (Y/N) inquired.

"I appreciate the offer," King Baldwin IV responded, unaware that deep down, he craved (Y/N).

As (Y/N) searched for food on her food cart by the side of her room, she leaned down, causing her short skirt to ride up, inadvertently exposing her white lace panties to King Baldwin IV.

King Baldwin IV gazed at her through her panties, studying the curves of her buttocks and the flawless, blushing skin of the back of her thighs. He also noticed a new sensation—he felt a hardening in his groin, a feeling he had never experienced before.

(Y/N) handed King Baldwin IV some chips and placed them on her bed. "Here you are, give these a try. They should satisfy your hunger. I'll be organizing things in my bag," she said, before sitting on the edge of her bed and reaching for her bag.

King Baldwin IV glanced at the chips on the bed, then watched (Y/N) as she settled down and began rummaging through her bag. He admired her shapely figure from behind, and in that moment, an idea sparked in his mind.

King Baldwin IV quickly sat beside (Y/N) on her bed, picked her up, and put her on his lap before starting to do what he wanted.

King Baldwin IV embraces (Y/N) from behind and then proceeds to inappropriately and forcefully touch her.

King Baldwin IV runs his hand delicately over (Y/N)'s panties, lifting her short skirt. His fingers move over her delicate area while she is still wearing her lace underwear. His gentle touch sends shivers down her spine, causing her to let out a moan.

"You are incredibly beautiful," King Baldwin IV murmurs in her ear. "You belong only to me..." he adds.

King Baldwin IV places his left hand on (Y/N)'s left breast, softly squeezing it with desire as he explores her bra and ample bosom. "I want you," he expresses, while his right hand continues to caress her over her panties.

(Y/N) submits to King Baldwin IV's advances without resistance.

He then examines her blouse, noticing her ample breasts pushing against the fabric. As he studies the design of the garment, he carefully unbuttons her top, revealing a delicate lace bra that conceals her rosy, blushing breasts.

"Why are you wearing that?" King Baldwin IV asked (Y/N), pointing to her bra. She blushed and didn't say anything.

"Anyway, it looks nice on you, but I want to see more," King Baldwin IV said, gently touching her big breasts, making her feel good before uncovering them slowly.

With her breasts uncovered, showing her pink nipples, King Baldwin IV carefully takes off his gloves and bandages from both hands.

"Stay calm, (Y/N)," he murmured to her while starting to uncover his hands.

(Y/N) observed his scarred hands from leprosy, but he was excited to cautiously touch her, a sensation he had never felt before.

King Baldwin IV begins to gently touch the aroused nipples of (Y/N) with his leprous fingers, exploring her feminine form as he admires her blushing breasts. He embraces (Y/N) from behind, leaving her unable to do anything but observe his actions.

Occasionally, he traced circles around her areola with his fingers, then he touched her nipples, sometimes giving them a gentle pinch, eliciting an aroused moan from (Y/N), a sound he found pleasure in hearing.

"I'm loving this," he whispered with desire in (Y/N)'s ear. "I'm glad I came here just for this."

"Baldwin..." (Y/N) said softly, blushing.

"I understand, you want more as well," King Baldwin IV said to (Y/N).

He became slightly forceful as he squeezed her breasts more firmly and alternately pinched her nipples.

(Y/N) had no choice but to surrender to the pleasure she was experiencing at that moment. King Baldwin IV also opted to take off his metal mask, exposing his scarred leprous face. This allowed him to kiss and lick the left side of (Y/N)'s neck while continuing to caress her breasts with desire.

Despite the king's appearance, (Y/N) took pleasure in the feel of his leprous fingers on her breasts and his lustful kisses on her neck.

While King Baldwin IV persistently caresses her charming breasts, he observes her immaculate white thighs and her lengthy legs adorned with extended lace white socks reaching her knees. His excitement grows at the prospect of exploring the lower regions of her feminine form. Additionally, he notices her overly short skirt, now revealing the lace panties he had touched earlier, fueling his eagerness to delve into her intimate womanhood.

With a swift motion, the king tore (Y/N)'s blouse, throwing it aside carelessly. Next, he struggled momentarily to unclasp her bra from behind, but quickly succeeded. Continuing his actions, he forcefully squeezed (Y/N)'s left breast with his left hand, while his right hand moved downward to her panties, where he aggressively fondled the fabric and scraped against her vagina.

(Y/N) feels both intense desire and passion simultaneously. She finds the words to express to the king, "Things are getting intense," while occasionally moaning.

In response, King Baldwin IV continues his sensual touches on her private areas, expressing that it's still not intense enough for him, "we're just getting started."

King Baldwin IV paused and motioned for (Y/N) to turn towards him, which she did. He gazed at her bare upper body, focusing on her breasts, before turning his attention to her beautiful face.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) looked at the king's scarred face without feeling repulsed.

"I believe I love you," King Baldwin IV confessed to (Y/N), leaving her stunned. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips.

Afterward, he glanced at her nipples and licked the left one, eliciting a gentle, vulnerable moan from her. Meanwhile, his other hand caressed her right breast as he continued to savor the other nipple.

Occasionally, he alternated between tasting her right and left breasts, taking turns to enjoy each one.

Then he kissed her passionately once more.

He then swapped positions with her as they continued kissing, before gently laying her down on her bed. (Y/N) now feels exposed and instinctively covers her breasts from the king.

King Baldwin IV chuckled at her vulnerability, but then his gaze shifted to her alluring thighs and the glimpse of her panties peeking out from her short skirt.

He chose to remove her short skirt and threw it aside, leaving her in only her lace panties and knee-high lace socks.

Then, he ran his leprous fingers over (Y/N)'s soft thighs, moving back and forth. Eventually, he lowered his head to her thighs, lustfully sniffing her left thigh while his left hand continued to caress her right thigh.

He allowed his sniffs to reach her panties, then paused to gaze at (Y/N) before proceeding. With their eyes locked, he softly kissed her panties and then gave her vagina a gentle peck.

Observing (Y/N)'s panties before him, King Baldwin IV remarked, "beautiful." He then planted loud kisses upon her vagina, even as she remained clothed in her underwear, prompting (Y/N) to release soft moans.

King Baldwin IV expressed his gratitude by saying, "Thank God..." while continuing to shower (Y/N)'s vagina with kisses to show his love for her.

The king paused briefly and gazed at (Y/N) once more. As he locked eyes with her, he subtly indicated that he desired to perform oral sex on her through her underwear.

He licked her underwear while she let out a gentle moan, then he licked her once more from below while gazing at her with desire.

"You taste amazing," King Baldwin IV said to (Y/N), as he kept licking her vagina, gradually becoming more assertive.

After a brief moment, King Baldwin IV rotated her body so that she was facing down on the bed. Now, he admired her pinkish-white and flawless buttocks, enhanced by the beauty of her panties from behind.

He was astonished by the beauty of (Y/N), even with her buttocks exposed. "By the heavens, I feel truly fortunate to witness such beauty," King Baldwin IV exclaimed as he gently ran his leprous hand over (Y/N)'s soft buttocks.

"Even this garment enhances your attractiveness," he remarked, referring to the laced panties she was wearing.

He used both hands to gently stroke both sides of (Y/N)'s flushed buttocks, appreciating their fullness. He even used his fingers to trace along the center of her buttocks, continuing down to provide another sensation of his touch to her vagina.

He playfully stimulated her there, applying a passionate touch to a specific area of her vagina. As it grew more intense, (Y/N) released a sultry moan, once again satisfying King Baldwin IV.

Following his exploration of her vagina, he opted to kiss the cheeks of her buttocks. With tenderness and affection, he placed a peck on the left buttock while gently caressing the right one, mirroring his actions with her breasts earlier. Occasionally, he alternated sides, kissing, licking, and tasting both her left and right buttocks.

"You're incredibly enticing," King Baldwin IV praised (Y/N), acknowledging her beauty and allure. "You must be an angel, perhaps even a goddess."

He then repositioned her to face him once more, while she remained lying on her bed with her breasts still exposed to him.

"I feel privileged to have experienced you," King Baldwin IV said, taking (Y/N)'s hand and tenderly kissing it, feeling as though he had fallen for her deeply.

"This is quite unexpected," (Y/N) responded, blushing and averting her gaze.

King Baldwin IV gently guides her head to meet his gaze. "I want you," he expressed before sharing another passionate kiss with her.

As their embrace continued, his lips journeyed downward until they reached her panties once more. This time, he slid her panties down her legs, all the way to her feet, and then discarded them. He marveled at the sight of her feminine intimate area.

(Y/N) purposefully crosses her legs to shield her vagina, but King Baldwin IV gently parts them to inspect her intimate area.

"Beautiful," he murmured upon seeing her vagina, a sight he never thought he would behold as a leper. He entertained the idea of engaging in intercourse with her.

King Baldwin IV slowly takes off his clothes, showing his leprous body underneath.

When he's fully naked, (Y/N) sees his scarred body but also notices his muscular shape, proof of his training as a king.

Looking downward, she observed his erect penis, while King Baldwin IV positioned himself to penetrate (Y/N).

He widened her legs without seeking consent, letting his penis graze against her vagina. With a back-and-forth motion, he waited for her vagina to become wet.

As (Y/N) grew wet and aroused, he readied his still erect penis to penetrate her vagina.

He inserts his penis into her opening and softly moves it back and forth. "This will stay with me forever," he whispers as he passionately moves inside her. It's an occurrence he never imagined he'd have as a leper.

Blood trickled from (Y/N)'s vagina, causing her to scream in pain, revealing that she was still a virgin, now no longer after King Baldwin IV.

"The most incredible sensation," he remarked, proud to have taken (Y/N)'s virginity and purity, becoming the first man to do so.

As King Baldwin IV's penis moves inside her, (Y/N) begins to appreciate his masculinity and feels pleasure. She gradually acknowledges that he is handsome despite his leprosy.

As they proceed, her moans intensify, adding to the passion of their lovemaking.

Feeling close to climax, he quickens the pace before pulling out and ejaculating onto (Y/N)'s breasts.

After this, he desires another round, reentering her and kissing her with lust, while aggressively squeezing her breasts and thrusting inside her.

Sharing a passionate encounter, he kissed (Y/N) while grinding his penis inside her vagina, experiencing the ultimate pleasure. As he neared climax, he decided to keep to himself the desire to ejaculate inside (Y/N).

And it occurred; he allowed himself to ejaculate inside her without withdrawing his penis. (Y/N) grew curious, but soon realized what had happened after a few moments. "I love you, I love you..." King Baldwin IV declared before kissing her passionately once more.

He then penetrated her once again, resuming his movements. After a while, another ejaculation occurred inside (Y/N).

Exhausted from their activity, the two lay side by side on the bed. King Baldwin IV grabbed a blanket from beneath them to cover them both. They lay naked, with (Y/N) resting her head on King Baldwin IV's sturdy chest, drifting off to sleep together in the afternoon.

-End-

[lina-lovebug]

Touch

Short fic: other Na'vi think Quaritch fifth finger in unnatural and weird but (Y/N) thinks it's fascinating and he let's her inspect it.

Warning: MAJOR FLUFF

@darthsabe

_

Quaritch stared into the fire before him, wandering exactly who he was. He's seen all the video diaries and heard all about who the real Colonel Quaritch used to be, but was he still him? He became what he has hated. He was now nine feet tall, and one of the Na'vi.

And blue.

"Demon," He heard a whisper from one of the Natives and looked up, seeing them stare at his hands.

Right. His hands. The Na'vi naturally had four fingers, but he had five.

Couldn't quite fully blend in.

"Where do you come from, Miles Quaritch?" The Na'vi girl who saved him, (Y/N), asked while staring at him.

While the rest of his squad ran from the Thanator trying to kill them, Quaritch was lost. He had run the opposite way and had encountered a Na'vi woman fishing for food as he plunged head first into the water. She revived him and brought him back to her village.

"The sky people," He revealed, really not having much to lose other than a son who didn't want him.

"Ah, so it is true. Your people have perfected making us," You were impressed he could have blended in so easily, but the clothing and extra finger and speaking English gave it away.

"Why are you here? Taruk Makto sent you away, did he not?" Jake Sully. God, he couldn't escape him.

"He did, but sky people are greedy. Our planet is dying, and we want Pandora."

"Could you not have come in a more peaceful way?" You were genuinely curious. Your people had only engaged in violence when Taruk Makto had asked you to fight, but since then, your clan steered clear of them. You were travelers, never staying in one place for too long, and you were lucky enough to encounter a sky person this time around.

He chuckled, "If we see something we like, then we take it. Something we just can't seem to learn."

He started to get self conscious about his hands and felt all eyes on them. So hid them away in his pockets, trying not to explode at them.

"Like a baby," You mused, offering him a fruit.

"Nah, I'm good," his stomach grumbling loudly gave him away.

You giggled, "I will not poison you. Besides, all that running works up an appetite."

"How do you avoid those fuckers?" Not paying attention, he grabbed the fruit and started to eat.

"You run," you shrugged, "you can not tame one of them like you do Ikran."

"Hm," was all he said, the juices of the fruit running down his hand, and he wiped it on his pants.

"Disgusting."

"Demon."

His ears folded back, feeling self-conscious, and he dropped the fruit on the floor before getting up and walking away.

"Miles Quaritch, wait!" You got up, following after him but your hand was grabbed by your mother.

"Daughter, he is dangerous," She warned.

"So am I," you tore your hand from her and followed his footprints. He didn't walk fast, so it was easy enough to find him and stop him.

"Miles Quaritch, stop!" You grabbed his hand and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes looked down at your own hands.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Princess, but it seems I'm too different for your people-"

"Can you blame them? They are scared of another outbreak of war, but you. . .you feel different," Something about him just made you feel drawn to him. Your hand still hand onto his own and he pressed your palms together.

"I've done a lot of bad shit (Y/N). Shit I wish I could take it back, but I know who I am, and they know too. I'm not Taruk Makto - I can never fit into a clan or a tribe. Thank you, again, but-"

You grabbed his extra finger, feeling vulnerable, but you didn't care.

"I do not care who you used to be. Eywa brought you here for a reason," and before he could scoff and say anything else, your other hand reached up and cupped his cheek.

"I see you," you expressed, "but are you willing to see who you are?"

He was breathless. A Na'vi woman he just met just fucking read him like a book, and he hated it. A Marine shouldn't ever be in such a vulnerable position. . .but would a Marine ever willingly become a Na'vi?

With a chance to change?

His ears folded back and he merely nodded, not knowing what else to say.

You smiled.

"First things first is to get you out of such weird clothing," You began to walk back, hands still intertwined.

"We just met, and you're already trying to take my clothes off," All you did was laugh it off but seeing the physique of this sky person turned Na'vi didn't sound so bad.

[exotic-afterhours]

Sticky situation

Chapter three: Novacane

(Warnings: kissing/hickeys, (Jackson Wang mention) let me know if I missed anything!)

Childhood best friend!chan x reader(also fake dating trope)

Chapter two

“Are you ready?” I say to Chan while walking over to the couch he’s sitting on, “yea…just nervous” he said rubbing my knee. “I get that I’m sorry about this all” I say with sympathy in my voice. “It’s okay they pretty much invited themselves over” he said with a breathy laugh. Just after he finished his sentence we heard a knock on the front door. I walked over to the door and opened it “Hii” I said with fake excitement in my voice. They both let themselves in and gasp at the man sitting on my couch, “don’t act so shocked you knew he’d be here” I said slightly annoyed. Ali rolled her eyes “I’m just shocked it’s someone who’s actually attractive..” she says, slightly eyeing him up and down. “Yea I guess, but he’s taken” I say with a smile and hand on her shoulder, if I’m gonna be honest I don’t know how or why me and Ali are friends I guess I’ve just followed her around I can’t even tell you how we’re friends but I do know for a fact Chans her type, and that kinda makes me nervous. Kai walks over to the couch and shakes Chans hand “hey I’m Kai” they said to him, Chan shakes their hand in response “I’m Chan nice too meet you.”

It was nice to know Chan gets along with my friends, especially with Ali she’ll either love or hate you and I was blessed with the love side of her. Now it’s hard to explain how we got here to a club somewhere neither me nor Chan wanted to spend our evening. We did have plans to order takeout then watch movies but that obviously didn’t happen. Is this my fault yes but it’s also his if he didn’t say that he’s down then we’d be home in comfy clothes watching movies and eating spicy food that's gonna get us back in the morning. But maybe this will be fun. I walk into something or rather someone while looking at my phone trying to find my group “shit sorry” I say looking up at the person I walked into “ahh don’t worry about it, no big deal” he said with a kind smile “I’m Jackson” he says looking at me in my eyes “Oh right I’m —-“ I say with a small smile “I’m just looking for my friends” I say with a deified smile “I could help you if you want?” He looked at me with slight concern “I think I see them, thank you though” I said pointing at a small table with Ali sitting pouting and Chan & Kai laughing like mad men, “Oh you know Chan?” Jackson said with a big smile “oh yea he’s my..boyfriend” I said with a little laugh, he looks at me in shock “I didn’t know he had a game like that” he said as we both started walking towards them Chan immediately noticed us coming over he sees me and then Jackson and his smile multiplys “Jackson?!? What are you doing here, what are you doing in town” Chan says, giving Jackson a hug “just visiting for a bit, how are the boys?” Jackson asked and I instantly knew who he was talking about, “STRAY KIDS” Chans band he was in. “They are good, music has been flowing well too” Chan said with a smile “yea I bet especially with your muse.” He pointed at me “Oh haha yeah I guess you could say that.” Chan said in an awkward tone.

“I think me and — are gonna head out we have some plans tomorrow afternoon” Chan said to our group, we say our goodbyes and good nights to Kai and Ali also Jackson, “why’d did you want to leave all of the sudden Chan” I ask, all he does is grip the steering wheel and moving one hand from the wheel to my upper thigh. I look at him but he has a serious look on his face. When we get back to my place and we get to my room he looks at me and says “if you want me to stop then tell me” I look at him strange but then I’m met with a strong kiss from him. I put my hands in his hair and over his shoulders, he easily lifted me up kissing me and all over my neck leaving bite marks and purple marks “your mine remember?” He said in a condescending tone that just makes you feel hot all over. “W-What do you mean” I ask confused “don’t be like that I saw how Jackson was looking at you” he said annoyed. “It’s whatever just go to bed” he says and just leaves me room leaving me confused and wondering.

Taglist: @karmicrecs

@iamcamillacavill

This took longer than expected I did have some issues on my end but it’s out!! I tried to write some angst but I’m not the best at it ngl so I hope yall enjoy!!

(Banner credits to: @cafekitsune )

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 11 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x reader, roman reigns x reader

warning(s): swearing, use of pet names, daddy kink, dirty talk, fingering, cody has a big dick,  two idiots being so painfully obvious they have a thing for each other but they don’t know it themselves

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, light smut

|| previous part || next part ||

cody watched as y/n held up a variety of different dresses up to her figure as she stared at herself in the mirror. roman wouldn’t be there for another 3 hours, but y/n’s nerves had woken her up and y/n had woken cody up. “i don’t get why you’re so nervous about what you’re going to wear. you’ll look stunning no matter what outfit you end up picking.” cody commented from where he was laying in y/n’s bed, her blanket pulled until it was just under his chin as he tried to blink away his sleepiness. he still couldn’t believe he was up so early on a sunday morning just to help y/n pick out an outfit 3 whole hours before her date was supposed to arrive.

y/n sighed, hanging back up the two dresses she was currently comparing and grabbing two more. “i’m going on a date with roman! i want to dress to impress but not like make it seem like i’m trying too hard, you know?” she said, looking at herself in the mirror and holding up the dresses to her body. “besides, it’s my first time ever going on a date. i think i’m allowed to be nervous.” she said, turning to look at cody.

cody looked over the dress she was holding up to her body, thinking for a moment before speaking, “too tight fitting. that’s more of a party kind of dress. i think you should go for a more innocent kind of vibe. got anything more flowy?” he asked, watching her nod her head and hang up the dresses. “to be fair, you’re literally going out to eat with the guy. you’ve eaten with ted and i on one-on-one situations multiple times.” cody pointed out, fighting back a yawn that was creeping up into his throat. he pulled the blanket off of him until half of his upper body was exposed to the cool air of the room, and causing goosebumps to appear on his skin.

“ok, that’s different though. when i go out to eat with you, i’m not trying to impress you. the end goal here with roman is to secure a second date in the near future.” y/n said as she pulled out a white short dress that hugged her waist and bust, but the bottom portion was flowy and loose.

“just don’t talk with your mouth full like how you do with us and you’ll be fine.” cody teased, watching as a blush rose to y/n’s cheeks. he looked over the dress she held up to her body, humming in approval. “put it on.” he told her, already tugging at the blanket and pulling it over his head to allow her privacy.

y/n walked over to where cody was laying, grabbing one of her larger plushies at the foot of her bed and laying it on top of the blanket where cody’s head was. “no peeking.” she warned him, before walking back over to her closet area.

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll only look if you’ll let me.” cody said, his voice muffled under the layers.

y/n turned so her back was to cody, looking over her shoulder once more to make sure he wasn’t peeking, before turning her head back around. she began to get undressed, a blush furiously making itself known on her cheeks as she hurriedly pulled off her clothes. y/n stood in just her underwear, shivering from the cold air as she opened a drawer to pull out her pasties. “can you give me more useful tips for this date? all you’ve told me is to be myself but that’s not going to convince roman to go on a second date with me.” she asked as she stuck the pasties over her nipples. y/n began to pull the dress over herself, as cody laughed.

“the whole part of a date is to get to know the other person and to show them more of you as a person. there’s no point trying to fake who you are.” cody mused, closing his eyes. he needed to get himself one of these blankets, the sherpa inner lining feeling so soft on cody’s skin and keeping him warm. “but i guess you do want to come off as girlfriend material and not just friend material. in that case, don’t forget to be flirty to show that you’re interested in something more. let your touch linger on his arm, say some flirty and suggestive words, and let yourself have fun.”

“with roman?” y/n questioned as she finished pulling the dress on. she looked at herself in the mirror first, adjusting the dress. “cody i cannot touch him, not even like brush my shoulder on his arm. i literally made out with the dude the last time i saw him. if i touch him now, i think i’d actually be set ablaze.”

“well, yesterday you came from me grinding my dick on your pussy and here i am in your bed the very next morning. i don’t think you’ll have much trouble with having to even hold his hand, sweetheart.” cody teased with a laugh. in the next second, he felt her hit him over the blanket with what he assumes to be a plushie.

“ok, you can look.” y/n said, already raising up the plushie over her head so she could hit him as soon as she saw his head. cody peeked out of the blanket, only to be hit square-on with a plushie. his eyes squeezed shut from the sudden contact, and he pulled off the blanket in a hurry. cody reached out, opening his eyes and wrapping his arms around y/n’s waist. she laughed as he pulled her down on the bed with him, flipping them over so that y/n was laying on the bed and cody was straddling her hips.

“oh you think you’re so funny?” cody mused as y/n laughed and nodded her head in reply. cody yanked the plushie out of y/n’s hands and hit her gently on her face, as y/n wiggled under him. “good dress, by the way. looks great on you. but you’d look better with this plushie hitting your face.” he commented, continuing to assault y/n with the plushie.

eventually, cody got off of y/n and got off of the bed, grabbing the girl’s hands and pulling her up with him. he supported her by wrapping his arm around her waist as she stood up in front of him. her giggle fit had died down, and a permanent smile was drawn on her lips.

“there you go. less nervous now, sweetheart?” he asked, keeping his arm around y/n’s waist. cody looked down at y/n’s unable to hide the smile that had soon found its way up on his own lips.

“yeah, thanks cody.” she whispered, meeting his gaze.

“i mean it, the dress looks good on you, but anything you wear looks good on you.” cody shrugged, letting his gaze fall lower as he looked over her outfit. “gives off the right amount of ‘i have no ulterior motives, i want to get to know you as a person and a potential boyfriend’ as well as a hint of ‘this dress is short enough if you want to bend me over’” he teased, his gaze returning to meet y/n’s.

she blushed at cody’s words, shaking her head slightly. “that’s exactly what i’m going for.” she said. she felt cody’s grasp on her waist tighten, and y/n could feel herself grow nervous with each second that passed with her gaze locked with cody’s.

the two stayed like that for a while, just staring at each other and lost in thought. y/n had caught the way cody’s eyes had flickered from hers down to her lips, and y/n would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t doing the same.

“i think i forgot how to kiss.” y/n found herself whispering. “what if roman kisses me today and i mess up?”

“need another lesson?” cody asked, bringing his free hand up to cup y/n’s face. “it’d be horrible if you came back looking all sad because you forgot how to kiss. i can’t let that happen.” he whispered, meeting y/n’s gaze once more as if asking for permission.

“yeah, you are the one teaching me after all. you’d be a bad teacher if that happened.” y/n mumbled. in the next second, cody’s lips were on hers and her breath was knocked out of her lungs.

no one would be able to kiss her in the same way cody kisses her. the feeling of his lips on hers so gentle that it left y/n wanting more with every press. y/n mimicked the movement of cody’s lips on hers, gasping when cody’s hand had moved from her cheek to the back of her head to pull her in for a deeper kiss.

cody’s tongue had easily gained dominance over hers, and he began to walk them backwards until y/n’s back and hit her mattress. “just like that.” cody whispered once he pulled away, opening his eyes to catch the way that y/n laid breathless underneath him. he adjusted them so that y/n was laying comfortably on her bed and cody was hovering over her, placing himself between her legs and holding himself up with his arms.

“what time is it?” y/n found herself asking as she stared up at cody. when cody reached for his phone on the bed to check the time, y/n adjusted herself so that her legs were wrapped around cody’s waist. she brought her hand up, staring at cody’s bare chest and tracing over his “dream” tattoo with her finger.

“6:24.” cody answered, setting his phone back down on the mattress. he averted his attention back down to y/n, one of his hands traveling downwards to rest on her leg. cody pushed y/n’s dress up, as he kept his attention on her reactions, and feeling satisfied with the way y/n’s face had turned a deep red.

“i never got to help you finish yesterday…” y/n said, her voice trailing off as cody began to rub his hand up and down along her leg. she brought her arms up, wrapping them around cody’s neck.

“left me with blue balls, sweetheart.” cody hummed, leaning down to capture y/n’s lips in a kiss. he pressed his hips flush against hers, feeling her gasp against his mouth and sliding his tongue against hers.

y/n moaned into the kiss as cody rolled his hips against hers. after a moment, she pulled away and stared cody in the eyes, as she challenged, “doesn’t seem like you mind, though. you haven’t done anything about it, daddy.”

cody scowled, his hand pushing y/n’s dress up and earning him a gasp when the cold air hit y/n’s exposed skin. he ran his hand over the material of her underwear, hooking his finger on to the top and beginning to pull it off of her. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop right now.” he whispered, leaning down to press his forehead against hers and meeting her gaze.

y/n tilted her head up, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed her lips against cody’s, moaning as he slid his tongue into her mouth out of pure instinct. she bucked her hips up against his before unwrapping her legs from around his waist. she pulled away from the kiss and brought her arms down from cody’s neck. she rested her hands on his chest, dragging one of her hands down to press against his abs gently as she felt his body. “but if i told you that, i’d be lying, daddy.” she whispered. the way cody’s gaze had darkened at her words sent shivers down her spine and y/n could swear this would be the most aroused she would be in her life.

a rip could be heard in the room, causing y/n to gasp in shock. “cody!” she yelled, realizing that cody had quite literally tore her underwear off of her.

“shut the fuck up.” cody practically growled, begging to tug at y/n’s dress. he watched the way y/n’s gaze had widened in shock, although the small moan she made let him know that y/n had enjoyed hearing him. “i’ll buy you new ones. now take off this dress before i rip it off of you too.” he ordered, leaning in to peck her lips softly before leaning up to sit back on his legs.

y/n couldn’t describe the whiplash or the wave of emotions she was currently feeling in that moment. cody had sounded so primal and menacing with the way he was ordering her, but the way he had just kissed her had been so delicate that y/n could have sworn a ghost had kissed her. however, with the way cody was staring at her now, y/n knew better than to keep him waiting any longer. she sat up, pulling the dress off her her with his assistance and throwing it off. she also quickly peeled off her pasties, suddenly feeling body conscious as cody took her dress and pasties and let them fall to the floor.

the entire time, cody’s gaze had been fixed on her. y/n could only describe the look on his face to be hungry. she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself up, but was quickly stopped by cody grabbing her wrists. he pulled her arms away from her chest as he guided her to lay back down on the mattress. he kept his grip on y/n’s wrists and pinned them above her head, leaning down to kiss her gently.

“don’t hide yourself from me, sweetheart.” cody whispered against her lips, letting go of one of her hands and reaching down to cup her breast in his palm. he kneaded her breast, eating up her moans hungrily. he pulled away from her lips, hearing her gasp and moan under him as he trailed kisses down her neck to her chest. “you’re so fucking beautiful, y/n.” he breathed out, before taking in her other nipple in his mouth. cody sucked, licked, and nibbled on her nipple while he played with the other with his hands. he was fueled by the way y/n was moaning and writhing under him.

“daddy.” she gasped out, bucking her hips up against him. “no fair, you still have your shorts on.” she mumbled, arching her back and moaning when cody pinched her nipple.

“someone’s getting impatient.” cody mused once he pulled away, leaning back up to press a sweet, quick kiss to y/n’s lips. “but i guess it is unfair, i’ll play nice just for today.” he whispered, pushing himself up.

y/n whined at the loss of warmth, but propped herself up on her elbows to watch cody begin to pull down his shorts and boxers. her eyes widened as she watched cody’s cock slap up against his lower stomach, a blush rising to her cheeks. she was correct about cody being thick, but she hadn’t expected the man to have length on his side as well. god truly had favorites, and cody is one of them.

“cody.” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

cody let his shorts and boxers fall to the floor, before adjusting his position on the bed. he wrapped his hand around his length, feeling it pulse in his hand as he stroked himself slowly. a corner of his lips turned upwards into a smirk as he observed y/n’s reaction. he brought up his other hand, cupping her chin and tilting her head upwards to meet his gaze. “yes sweetheart?” he responded, rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip gently.

“there’s no fucking way that monster is fitting in me.” she breathed out, to which cody could only laugh at.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll admit, i’ve never been with a virgin before but i’ll do my best to take care of you.” he whispered, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss as he pushed her back down on the bed. cody stopped stroking himself and pressed his hand against her core, running his fingers along her opening and using his thumb to rub circles against her clit. “i wasn’t joking about splitting you open, y/n. but i’ll be nice and get you all stretched out for me.” cody mumbled as he pulled away from the kiss and watching the way her face twisted in pleasure as he finally pushed a finger into her core.

|| next part ||

[specialinterestshows]

The following is an Asta Twelvetrees x D’arcy Bloom fic no one asked for, but that the world definitely needs.

Episode: Season 2, Episode 5: “Family Day”

Song:

Warnings: Passing allusions to domestic violence / controlling relationship, pining, underage drinking mention, cannabis (weed), underaged inebriated sex mention (of two characters now adults), passing mention of alcoholism, infertility mention (jokingly), biting, hickies, dirty talk, rough oral

-

GN69

Given how difficult the last few days had been, D’arcy was on the upswing. With Asta’s arm around her shoulders and the raven-haired beauty resting against her, D’arcy almost wished Asta had more of her shitty ex‘s clothes in her trunk, so they could stare at the fire burning on the grill for hours. Still, she held onto this moment for as long as she could.

By the time the sweatshirt was reduced to soot, the sun had almost set and the cloud cover was shifting to reveal the night sky.

Looking up at the stars that began to peek out from the parting clouds, D’arcy was reminded of the plastic imitations stuck to Asta’s bedroom ceiling and how many times the two of them had explored each other under those stars as stoned teenagers. Fuck, the two of them had even done it in the yacht spot, drinking beers that Asta had snagged from work in the parked car until they were just tipsy enough to say they couldn’t remember sloppily making out, groping, going down on, and fingering each other. Inevitably, the night would end with both of them passed out in the back seat, one on top of the other. D’arcy fondly remembered how Asta’s full weight on her was always so comforting.

Those were the days.

Before passing out drunk at The 59 happened more often than making it home to fall asleep in her own bed.

Before Jimmy made Asta stay home anytime she wasn’t working.

Before bruises and excuses, shattered legs and broken dreams.

Just the two of them at what felt like the beginning of their lives.

It was time to recapture that feeling.

“Wanna go park at the yacht spot and turn that” - D’arcy pointed at an apple sitting on a nearby table - “into a bong, for old times’ sake? It’ll get the smell of burnt sweatshirt out of our hair.”

“Sounds perfect,” Asta said, lifting her head from the other woman’s shoulder to look at her, “I’ll drive, you work your magic.”

D’arcy couldn’t help but smile when a soft kiss was planted on her cheek - what probably looked like a casual show of affection between best friends from the outside. But every time Asta’s lips touched her, D’arcy felt a tug in her chest; a protective instinct swelling with happiness and longing.

“Thanks, D’arce,” Asta said, smiling before turning to walk to her car, “You always know just what I need.”

—

Parked at what might have been considered a jaunty angle if there were parking spaces in the woods was Asta’s car; not “the yacht,” namesake of the spot, but a suitable substitute for the occasion. The two women sat within its padded frame, the occasional flicker of a flame highlighting just how smoky the air was inside.

The apple D’arcy had expertly carved with her pocketknife gave each hit a sweet taste, filtering the smoke through a bit of water as well as the inner walls of the fruit. The aluminum foil bowl with a long down-stem that she had fashioned from scraps wasn’t quite as impressive, but it did the job.

“Maybe I should’ve made this thing out of a pepper instead,” D’arcy mused, passing the makeshift bong without noticing the incredulous look being thrown her way, “Most of ‘em are already basically empty, and it might give it a nice kick-“

“Shut up!” Asta gave her a playful shove, reminding her of the chili pepper eating contest before taking a hit and trying not to laugh into the piece as D’arcy giggled. The last bit of ash pulled through quickly, heralded by a cough.

“Well, looks like that’s the last of it,” Asta said, looking down at the cashed bowl.

“Actually, if you’ll scoot a little bit,” D’arcy leaned over, reached underneath the driver’s seat, and moved a few things around before triumphantly pulling out a small ziploc bag containing a few bits of flower, “Aha! First try.”

“You hid weed in my car?” Asta raised an eyebrow while a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“You’re surprised?” D’arcy countered, pulling out a nug and taking it apart piece by piece as she packed the bowl. Her hands worked quickly, despite being more used to a grinder at this point; something about the atmosphere was almost perfect in recapturing the nostalgia she sought.

“Aw, greens? For me?” Asta made sure as she was handed the lighter and bong.

“I started the last bowl - this one’s for you,” D’arcy insisted, “But it feels like we’re missing something… Mind if I put on some tunes?”

“Go for it,” Asta encouraged, gesturing to her case of CDs before lighting the bowl.

D’arcy clicked the key left in the ignition just slightly to give power to the radio and lights before looking through disc after disc. Finding one that made her smile, she plucked it from its sleeve before pushing it into the player and skipping to track two. She leaned back in her seat again, watching Asta listen curiously to the repeating discordant noise before it changed to guitar and drums. The realization hit Asta slowly, a smile creeping onto her face as she let out her hit.

“The Breeders? Really?” Asta laughed.

“It’s ironic!” D’arcy said defensively, “I thought that was, like, half the reason we used to listen to them all the time. Y’know, ‘cause you got slow swimmers and I’m barren. That’s why we used to do it raw every time I called you for what I thought of as a GN69, even though we never actually-“

The sudden look of realization that fell over Asta’s face as she listened made D’arcy stop. Had Asta been telling the truth about not remembering any of those moments? Did D’arcy just trigger a memory that might compromise their friendship?

“Wait,” Asta’s hand slowly crept over to D’arcy’s thigh as she spoke, “I’m single... You’re single…”

“Oh you’re baked is what you are,” D’arcy laughed, trying to give her an out, her own heartbeat speeding up.

“I want you even when I’m not high,” Asta said matter-of-factly, the lyrics echoing with “want you” as she set the lighter and apple on the dashboard and scooted a bit closer, “You’ve always felt like home to me, and I’ve been gone for so long. Don’t turn me away.”

Those words, paired with the soulful brown eyes staring into hers, made D’arcy’s carefree persona falter.

“I’m finally back, D’arce,” the emotion in Asta’s voice tugged on her heartstrings like nothing else, as Asta’s face steadily approached, fingers gently brushing D’arcy’s lips now, “Please, just let me in.”

Before she knew what she was doing, D’arcy had closed the distance between her lips and Asta’s, arms moving to pull the other woman as close to her as possible.

Asta’s lips were just as soft as D’arcy had remembered and - despite the smoke and its vessel - she could taste the vanilla ice cream Asta had used to ease the overpowering heat of the last pepper she had attempted to eat. D’arcy chased down the flavor until she was lost in it, numb to it, and finally reached a familiar, unnameable taste that felt welcoming like nothing else, her hands roaming Asta’s breathless body. She was met with the same enthusiasm she gave, lips breaking apart only to feel the electric sensation of running them together again, clinging to each other as if letting go meant never seeing her again.

“I’ll be your whatever you want” was the only part of the song that registered for D’arcy every time she heard it - it was exactly how she felt.

Giving the both of them time to catch their breath, D’arcy gently tilted the other woman’s head, slowly trailing kisses across her cheek and down her neck. Feeling the occasional buzz of Asta moaning into the kisses they shared was nice, but hearing her moan was something D’arcy was craving desperately. Biting down harder and harder, sucking on the skin between her teeth, she savored the sounds that almost harmonized with the music. Starting to squirm, Asta’s moans turned to whimpers as she grabbed a handful of bright red hair to stop the onslaught to the space between her neck and shoulder.

“Not too much,” she said, already breathing heavily, “People still get weird around me when I have bruises.”

“We should probably take this to the back seat anyway,” D’arcy suggested, removing her jacket and undoing her ponytail.

Asta ambled into the back, not bothering to use the car doors and sliding off her plaid button-up once she was seated. Her t-shirt was the next thing to go as D’arcy squeezed between the front seats to join her.

“Helloooo nurse!” D’arcy exclaimed, laughing when her comment was met with the shirt flung at her.

“Oh, I see. You wanna play doctor?” Asta asked, donning a smirk and enjoying the way the other woman looked at her, “Where does it hurt?” - she leaned in to whisper - “And where do you want it to?”

Wordlessly, D’arcy bit her lip and took the other woman’s hand, guiding it down to the space between her legs. Asta went back to occupying her lips with D’arcy’s while she undid the black leather belt. Pulling away every piece of clothing that stood between her and her target, Asta was a woman on a mission. The moment she had enough space, she dipped her head between D’arcy’s thighs.

Pants, belt and underwear abandoned just above her knees, D’arcy tried and failed to spread her legs further in response to the warm, wet tongue that flitted against her. She tried to shimmy her way into a position to lower her pants further without shifting too much - but the movement didn’t go unnoticed.

D’arcy moaned loudly when Asta gripped her thighs to hold her in place and started biting her tender labia instead.

“Fuck! That shouldn’t feel as good as it does,” D’arcy said, gripping the headrests of the seats on either side of her and leaning back against the cold glass of the window.

“Yeah? You like that?” Asta teased, lips hovering just above the wetness she had already brought forth, one hand firmly pressing down on the other woman’s stomach to keep her from moving her hips.

“I missed your mouth, like, a lot,” D’arcy admitted, bringing a hand down to wipe off some of the face paint around the edges of Asta’s face. It was all she could do not to grab Asta’s hair and push her back down between her legs, but she had to ask.

“You down to keep going?”

Rather than speaking, Asta replied by pulling the pants and underwear the rest of the way down before bringing her mouth back down to D’arcy’s aching flesh. Her fingers parted the rosy folds and she began flicking her tongue, rapidly and rhythmically. D’arcy felt her pleasure mounting embarrassingly quickly, but just when she was getting close, Asta went back to biting instead.

“Ah! Unfair!” D’arcy whined, running her fingers through her own hair in frustration, feeling the mounting pleasure stall.

Before D’arcy could protest further, Asta began using her tongue again, expertly bringing the other woman back to a place where her pleasure continued to build - before denying her again, teeth leaving her even more tender with the most pleasurable pain.

“Asta!” she whined, squirming, “Please!”

Tongue slowly reuniting with D’arcy’s throbbing clit, Asta slid a single finger slowly into the source of her wetness as moans overtook the music in volume.

“Yes! Yes!” D’arcy was dizzy with pleasure, feeling Asta add another finger as her mouth continued - but part of her was waiting for the pain now that she was so close to the edge. The thrusting and licking and sucking didn’t stop this time, bringing the perfect peak directly into her sights.

“Asta! I’m gonna-!” was all D’arcy managed to say before her body took over, hands grasping the other woman’s hair as she heard herself gush down Asta’s fingers and chin, onto the seat. She was about to apologize until she realized Asta had started fingering her harder and faster because of it, drawing out her orgasm for as long as she could.

This was better than nostalgia; this was real.

The world was so much more colorful and vivid when D’arcy finally opened her eyes, feeling better than she had in years.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, wiping tears from her cheeks, “Holy fucking shit.”

Asta giggled, planting one last kiss between D’arcy’s legs before slowly pulling out her fingers. Staring her down seductively, she licked them clean.

“Oh you sexy bitch, come over here so I can thank you,” D’arcy breathed, sitting up to grab Asta in a passionate kiss before stripping her down to return the favor.

—

“Good morning,” Asta said, walking to the staff lockers of the Patience Health Clinic and setting down her things.

“‘Morning,” Ellen replied, looking her over suspiciously, “You look… chipper.”

“I slept well last night,” Asta replied curtly, putting on her scrubs, “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Wow, I was just trying to be nice,” Ellen held her hands up defensively before taking a sandwich out of a nearby tupperware, “Thought you’d appreciate it. Especially after the competition yesterday.”

She took a small bite, mulling something over before saying more.

“Speaking of - are you and D’arcy a thing ‘cause all the men in town require their own sad, separate ranking system? Or are you, like, into her.”

“Excuse me?” Asta whipped around to face the accusation.

“I mean, I get it,” Ellen said before taking a much larger bite and continuing to talk with her mouth full, “The 59 on a weekend has zero eye candy - until you start looking at the ladies.” Ellen gestured to herself, sandwich still in hand, making Asta roll her eyes and scoff.

“What makes you think we-?”

“Yesterday’s clothes” - Ellen leaned over and pointed - “that hickey you keep trying to hide, and” - she plucked a long, bright red hair from the back of Asta’s shirt with finality. “Not that I care, but if you’re gonna lie, maybe you should do it better.”

Saying this, Ellen gave Asta two gruff pats on the shoulder, stuffing her face and leaving the empty tupperware before walking off.

Asta looked down at the container. Maybe Ellen was right - she shouldn’t be lying; if only because Ellen herself was probably already on the phone telling everyone in town. Then a second realization sunk in.

“… ELLEN! THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY LUNCH!”

[end]

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@domripley , @falloutboy-lover

[linasofia]

Any chance of an early Obsession fic? Asking for me a friend

Hi @enchantzz!

Thanks for your ask. How can I resist writing a ficlet after the latest tease from Netflix? My muse even decided to create a moodboard. This is my idea of teasing…

The Game

Fandom: Obsession (Coming to Netflix April 2023)

Relationship: William Farrow x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+

He’s watching me. I know he is. Even from across the room, I sense his presence. Every step I take is a struggle to remain calm, and I can feel his gaze burning through my silky dress. When I glance in his direction, he captures my gaze with his steel blue stare, and that makes it impossible for me to breathe normally. He doesn’t drink—he never does—but I have to take a sip of my champagne every time I feel I’m on the brink of exposing my true feelings. I am deeply affected by his presence. How could I not be when the man I willingly obey during the darkest hours is watching me like I’m his property? Which I am—at least in his bedroom. William and I met only a month ago, but we have already formed a strong bond. He leads, and I follow—that’s our game.

I was surprised when William asked me to come and join him for a night at the hotel. He is one of the key speakers at this event, and I… I don’t even belong here. I saw his face on a huge roll-up as soon as I entered, with Dr. William Farrow written below in large italics. There were some other faces too, but I didn't even bother registering them. I stand in a crowd of people. The warm light from the many small lamps hanging from the ceiling creates a soft atmosphere in the room, and people around me mingle with glasses or small plates in their hands. But I can’t eat. I try to talk to people. My mouth smiles kindly to the faces I meet, but I don’t see them. In my world, it is only him and me—and the strict discipline he demands as soon as I let my clothes fall to the floor.

My body aches as I suddenly notice how William turns to talk to someone who approaches him. I can’t see her face, but something in the way he leans in when they speak tells me that she is not a colleague. The blond woman’s perfect locks spill over her shoulders, and I can’t help envying their beautiful shine. Without control of my own actions, I excuse myself to a small group of people, whose attempts to have a decent conversation with me already bore me more than I allow them to see, and move closer to William and the unfamiliar woman. My unreasonable heart beats hard, jealousy floods my veins, but I try to tell myself that I have no right to react this way. I swallow the last of my champagne as I cross the floor, and when I reach the bar, I put the empty glass on the counter. The bartender instantly gives me a polite smile, and with a small tap on the bowl, I signal to him that I want another one. My glass is refilled without a word, and I watch how the bubbles dance in the glass. I recognize the golden label on the bottle’s neck very well, and I briefly wonder what an open bar mustcost on an evening like this. Not that it matters to the wealthy owners of the company who will pay for their guests' comfort.

Our plan for the evening is that I’m supposed to follow William to his room as soon as he can leave. Time is precious for us, and I don’t want to waste it on meaningless conversations. Just the thought of being alone with him again sends a small shiver of excitement down my spine. A whole night together—without the risk of being interrupted—is something we have never had the luxury of experiencing. With slightly trembling fingers, I pick up my glass and take a careful sip. I don’t want to drink too much. Alcohol weakens my senses, and I want to be able to feel every touch—soft or harsh—of William’s hands. I rest against the counter and take a deep breath. The dim light above the bar makes the area appear smaller and more intimate, and I manage to filter out the constant chatter of voices around me. When I focus, I can hear the music playing. The seductive tones from a cello seep from hidden speakers and surround the room with a classy yet alluring sound. I close my eyes and listen. A beating I recognize as my heart accompanies the music, and I smile.

William doesn’t speak, yet I instinctively know he’s standing next to me. I don’t understand if it’s his scent my senses catch or if my body just craves him beyond what can be explained as sane. But it matters less—he is here. Like a flower basking in the warm light from the sun, I turn my face towards him, and when he acknowledges me with a nod, a hint of a smile crosses his thin lips. He must have been to the barber recently, his hair and short beard are newly trimmed, and I can’t wait to make a mess out of his well-styled hair. I’m so grateful that he doesn’t dye his hair, for his beautiful grey sides give his hair character, and it suits him so well. William always dresses nicely, and tonight is no exception. The suit is no doubt the result of a skilled tailor, and his shirt is the same color as his expressive eyes. Their unusual shade of blue was the first thing I noticed when I met him, and I still fall helplessly under his spell whenever I look into them. A small gasp escapes my lips as I let my eyes wander to his casually open collar. Two buttons, but they make all the difference—and he knows it. None of us speak, for words are not needed between us. Our communication is on a more lascivious level, and William discreetly lets his gaze follow the shape of my dress. I know that in his mind, I’m already undressing, and that knowledge heats my body. When I meet his gaze again, the dark look in his eyes only confirms it. He slips a key card into my hand and leans closer. His breath is warm against my ear, and it makes me weak when he lowers his voice to a daring whisper. ”Room 505. Wait for me—naked.” Then he turns and walks away with not even a glance over his shoulder. With a small smile, I hide the card in my hand and try to look unaffected as I scan the room. Then I walk through the ocean of unfamiliar bodies to the elevators. My glass of champagne stands abandoned on the counter, half empty.

💙 If you like my writing, please consider spreading the love and reblogging.💙

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly @lilith15000 @clumsy-wonderland @theawkwardbutterfly @exhausted-humxn-being @beenthroughalot @chaikittie @piscesvancouverite @sotwk @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy @mrsdurin

[hexgaywire]

May I request a platonic headcannon of ILUNA x GN! Reader who is their younger sibling, reuniting with them after they leave to attend Institute of the Mystics? It's okay if you can't do all, and/or can't do this request!

Of course! This is such a sweet request I'm sorry it took so long to get to you 😭💕 I'm also sorry it's so short I always underestimate how big ILUNA is 🥲

»»————-　☾　————-««

ILUNA Reuniting With Their Sibling Hedcannons (GN)

Ft. Scarle, Aia, Maria, Aster, Kyo,and Ren

Rating: SFW

Warnings: None

»»————-　☾　————-««

Scarle leading up to the days she knows she gunna see you cannot stop talking about how excited she is to see you

She loves to absolutely spoil you and give you none conventional siblings affection, the two of you really get along

The second she sees you and pulls you into a big hug. "You look like you've grown!! Stop doing that your gunna make me feel old." She remarks with happy tears in her eyes

She definitely will try and cook you a meal, since her cooking skills are... Questionable? You end up going out for a nice meal instead.

She shows you all the pictures and videos she took of every day shenanigans at the institute. Telling you who's who and sharing funny stories about them.

She takes you shopping! Again, loves to spoil you, wants you to pick out something nice for yourself and something to remind you of her when you wear it or have it.

She talks about how much she's enjoying her time at the Institute but talks about how under different circumstances she wishes you could be with her.

All in all at the end of the day when the two of you have to part she pulls you into another big hug telling you to take care of yourself!

You can tell she's holding back tears trying to be your strong sister that you know and love.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Aia similarly to Scarle is ecstatic to see you

She prepares all the sketch books she's been working on this semester to show you what she's been working on

The second she sees you. She has a big grin on her face and doesn't stop smiling for the rest of your visit together

You two enjoy a good meal together and Aia chats about things she can about the Institute. Her classes, her friends, her recent projects

She's more interested on what you've been up to, excitedly encouraging you to keep up at whatever tough project your working on, just knowing you'll be great

After eating the two of you take a walk to talk some more preferably at a park so Aia can sketch

She muses on how much more grown up you've gotten and fake weeps that her siblings will soon surpass her

You part ways with your sister at the end of the day with a tearful goodbye and a see you soon. After all she's your sister she'll always be there to encourage you 💕

»»————-　☾　————-««

Maria is so excited she spent days planning an outfit to see you in

She is constantly telling her friends how unbelievably excited she is to see her sibling again

She prepares handmade cookies for you as well as a handkerchief she made herself

She cries when she sees you and of course gives you a hug

After you calm her down you catch up with her and she sheepishly gives you the gifts she made for you

You reassure her you didn't need anything your just happy to see your sister again

She cries again

After more calming down she takes you to a dress shop nearby the Institute she really likes

You two look through clothes and Maria puts on a little fashion show

After you head to a cafe where she tells you all about her studies and her friends and how they all treat her like a real girl!

Time seems to go by quickly and all too soon you have to leave your dear sister again :(

You give her a big hug and promise you'll see her again soon

»»————-　☾　————-««

Aster is nervously excited to see his sibling again

The night before, like Mari, he spends hours planning on what to wear

Also what the two of you should do with the limited amount of time the two of you have

The day arrives and you rush Aster in the biggest hug

Your brother is so happy to see you again he almost tears up

Almost

He immediately suggests you two go for a meal so the two of you can talk about all kind of things

Little does his sibling know he has a gift he's been working with Maria on to give to you

Once at the spot the two of you settle on he presents you with a stuffed star plush

He explains that even when he's not with you now you have a little piece of him with you

This of course makes you cry and Aster flustered rushes to comfort you

He, like the othersz talks about all the great friends he's made

You're just happy he seems happy

He pays for your meal as a thanks for coming to see him

Just like that it's time to say goodbye again

Aster cries a little finally but he knows he'll see his dear sibling again very soon

»»————-　☾　————-««

Out of all the group Kyo is the most chill about seeing his sibling again

He knows once he sees them it'll be just like old times so he doesn't really freak out the night before

You however seeing your brother happy and healthy brings you to tears, after knowing how much he's suffered... You can't help but get emotional

Kyo flicks your forehead and tells you to cheer up, and that y'all have a short amount of time to see each other

You agree and decide to hang around the school grounds to chat

Kyo tells you all about the craziness that's happened over the amount of time you've seen him last

You're moved to tears again seeing him crack jokes and smile at the mention of his new friend

He ruffles your hair and tell you if you ever run into his friends not to tell them how much he talked about them

He makes you swear on it

Kyo asks you how things are for you, and says you better be taking care of yourself now that he's at the Institute

You assure him you are, though admittedly you do worry about him often

He says he's the happiest he's been in a long time, especially with you here

Unfortunately time is running out and he walks you to the school gates

He gives you a small wave, telling you to take care and of course don't worry about your brother too much

»»————-　☾　————-««

Ren cannot contain his excitement to see his dear sibling again

He strikes me as very family oriented

Of course you had to travel a long way to get to the institute so Ren sets up a low energy plan to insure you're comfortable while you visit him

Once you see Ren he runs and gives you the biggest hug in the galaxy

Similar to the other he comments on how much older and mature you seem

"Stop that, I'm not ready to be an old man"

Ren invites you to his dorm to show you all his human nick nacks and items he's collected

He also plays you some music that he's been working on, he's a little sheepish at first but he knows you'll enjoy it

You chat about things back home and he talks about how things have been for him

He complains that he wishes you could be here all the time

He plays you a song he wrote just for you, about family and home

You get a little choked up knowing your time is nearing it's end

Ren assures you that he'll try and send you messages more often now that humans know about aliens (lol)

He walks you out to the gates giving you one last squeeze

You'll miss your brother but you have a hunch you'll hear from again real soon

»»————-　☾　————-««

WOOOO I did it. This is my first time writing for ILUNA, I tried my best but I hope you enjoyed it! My requests are open if you wanna request something!

[unluckiestmember]

Hey, I think I might have sent you and some other people the same request for Power and Fem reader? If you’re not comfortable writing something that others have already written, that’s understandable! Instead, would it be too much to ask for Power with a Fem reader who dresses very Soft girl esque (pastel colors, pleated skirts, shirts with prints of cute animals, and things like that)? Thank you in advance, I hope this isn’t too much!

Yeah, coming right up!

Power X Soft! Fem Reader

Characters: Power, Denji, Aki and Meowy

Tags: A little bit of slow burn, kind of established relationship, fluff, Power being Power, bullying, threats, Denji being miserable, dress up, hanging out, animal appreciation and Meowy. Just Meowy.

Warning: None. SFW.

A/N: Oh boy, I'm a little rusty! Sorry for the long wait on headcanons, I've been taking a break from everything and focusing on my art. Will definitely tell you guys when I post my art on Tumblr and Twitter. I hope you enjoy it even if it's not my best-

At first, Power really didn’t understand why you were so… You.

She didn’t get your aesthetic and why you were so bright. In a way, it annoyed her.

But after spending so much time in Public Safety around boring and “pathetic” co-workers, she started to loosen up to you.

She definitely plays dress up with you, trying on your bright pastel colored clothes.

Her favorite things to try out in your wardrobe are your sweaters and skirts.

Sometimes she will steal your clothes and claim them to be hers whenever someone classifies her cute.

She dares Denji and Aki to say something about your attire. They will get bitten and scratched.

You both share a love for animals, even if Power is more on a food chain like love.

Because of your equal love for them, you two are like parents to Meowy.

You both always shower, sleep and eat with the cute cat whenever possible.

Power has tried to sneak him onto missions with you guys but to no avail.

Aki and Denji better be ready to hear you two crying about your ‘baby’ on long missions.

You are a master at makeup and Power is your muse.

Sometimes you will paint her nails or do her lip gloss and blush.

But sometimes because of Power’s chaotic energy, you’ll find yourself in your bedroom and bathroom covered from head to toe in makeup.

The boys should expect you two to participate in mock runways and pose like models.

And if they don’t clap or say you both look beautiful, Power’s claws are coming out.

Whenever you don’t have missions, you and Power will walk around town and explore malls.

You two definitely partake in karaoke, even if Power’s voice isn’t the best.

In a way, you keep Power grounded, but also add to her chaotic energy.

But in the end, as long as you two are happy, everyone is happy.

Except Denji. He wishes he had a girlfriend too-

Chainsaw Man Requests are open!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[slytherinshua]

Muse

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. y/n is a painter. roughly set in a historical period with royalty lol idk. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: crying. kidnapping but not exactly? kisses. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: dk x fem!reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 1.4k

“Stay still or I won’t be able to capture you just right.” You urged, your pencil running over the canvas in quick strokes, placing down the foundation for the painting - the shapes of his figure, the facial features that were most prominent, and the way his clothes hung over his body.

“I’m trying, love.” He giggled, and you scolded him again for moving his face. He assumed his stoic pose again, and you smiled, continuing your sketch.

“I’m almost done with the sketch.” You murmured, tongue poking out slightly from your mouth from your concentration. This was the last painting you planned to do of him, and possibly the most important.

You had gotten the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to present a portfolio piece to the princess along with other artists. If she took a fancy to any of them, you might get a good pay worth out of it for once, and maybe even some commissions.  

Surely, these types of paintings would appeal to her highness? 

You tried your best to make the pose and the colours romantic and eye-catching. And, with Seokmin as your muse, you didn’t have to try too hard. He was already alluring himself.

As long as the public didn’t find out that it was you, Lim Y/n, who painted these, but “Park Woosung”, all should go as planned. Taking on a masculine name was common amongst female painters. It put them on almost the same playing field, and you had seen your friends get successful because of it.

Women weren’t expected to create as sophisticated an art piece as men, and because of that, the art was looked down on and considered “worse” from the very start. An intricate portrait, like you were doing of Seokmin, would sell for less than half the price of a sloppy painting that a man created. 

You looked through your box of paints for the neutral beiges you were looking for to start on the skin. Taking your brush, you painted the first stroke of the oil on the canvas— the colour already bursting out in contrast to the darkness of the background.

“You can relax, but try to keep the pose if you can, love.” You instructed him, peeking out from behind your canvas to give him a smile before turning back to your paint. He hummed softly as you painted away, fiddling with the grapes that he was supposed to be holding as a prop. You forbid him from eating any of them, but he might have snuck one or two of them into his mouth while you were focused on your canvas.

//

You felt like you might throw up your breakfast on the way to the outside grounds where the art display was taking place. You had never been this nervous in your entire life, and a little part of you knew that your future could depend on the events in the next few hours.

Seokmin was right by your side, holding your hand in the carriage for as much comfort as he could give you. All the paintings you had created were perfect in his eyes, and he couldn’t see any way you wouldn’t blow the minds of all the people there to see them. 

As you set up the paintings in the display, you caught sight of the princess laughing and talking with some of the gentlemen in the corner of the courtyard. You could tell by her face that she would be judging harshly, but the way she was talking to everybody here put you at ease slightly. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

You held your breath as the princess made her way towards your display, looking over the artwork with a critical eye. Her eyebrows furrowed and then lifted as her lips pursed - making way for a final smile to grace her lips. She barely spared you a glance before looking up, and you watched as her eyes widened enormously. You followed her line of sight nervously. She was looking at Seokmin.

It was like a bunch of alarms went off in your head and you wished you had pulled Seokmin away from her poisonous gaze while you still had the chance. 

But you stood frozen as the princess blabbered on about the paintings looking like nothing compared to the subject, and if she was going to display them she would become a laughing subject. And then she exchanged some secret signal with her guards, and a second later Seokmin was being taken away with them.

You tried to protest and grab onto his arm as he struggled in the arms of guards who were at least a head taller than him. He tried to reach his arm back to you while you ran as fast as you could to keep up, but you barely managed to brush your fingers with his before he was out of sight.

//

You marked that day as the end to your paradise. You never realised how good your life was before. Even if you struggled to earn money, or were ridiculed in the streets, or couldn’t sell a single painting, at least you had Seokmin. And now, you weren’t even allowed that much.

It took you days to process the event. One moment he was with you, the next he was gone. You didn’t hear a single thing regarding him after that. It was quite like he had disappeared from off the planet without a word.

You could only guess that he had been taken to the castle with the princess, but the security for it was unbelievable. There was no way you could get in without a formal invitation, and how would a broke painter like you possibly receive such a thing?

And so, weeks turned into months turned into years and you lived with the loss of Seokmin. A few weeks after the art show, you got a formal invitation to become a painter for the town square, which moved you out of your life of poverty quicker than you could imagine. You could finally be considered a successful painter. Your younger self would’ve been ecstatic, but you barely celebrated the success. It didn’t feel the same without him. 

You wondered what his life was like inside the palace, as you were often stationed just outside it to paint the nobles who walked by. It seemed as if you were so close to Seokmin, yet miles away. You just hoped he was being treated well, though you knew the palace could never give him the happiness that living with you did, and it made your heart ache.

You were sitting on your stool, easel propped upright in front of you like always. You had already finished a few commissions for the day, and were thinking about taking a break for lunch soon. You heard someone approach your spot and sit down on the chair across from you.

“You take commissions, right?” A sweet honey-like voice asked, and you looked up.

“I do. Would you like to be painted, sir?” You answered, eyes pricking with tears. You weren’t quite sure if you were seeing things correctly, or if he was actually sitting in front of you. He nodded, face breaking out in a smile. A tear slipped out, and rolled slowly down your cheek— your vision blurring from the warm tears.

Seokmin panicked and reached forward, wiping away your tears as if it was second nature. He crouched in front of you, clasping your hands in his and rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles slowly. 

“Just take a few deep breaths for me.” He instructed softly and you tried to follow them, breathing in shakily and exhaling as another sob escaped you. 

Seokmin’s brow furrowed and he looked around until he found your glass of water, giving it to you quickly. You drank it and wiped away the rest of your tears, holding onto his hand tighter as if he would leave if you let go.

He pulled you closer until your cheek rested against his chest and his arms hugged you tightly. You were able to smile once you focused on the way his heart was beating in his chest. It was racing just like yours.

“You came back.” You whispered.

He nodded, pressing chaste kisses to your forehead and temple and smoothening back your hair. 

“I won’t leave you again. I promise.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ skz taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @ddenoudepression

[ocenitram]

Baby: My muse gets turned into a baby for 24 hours

(for Emma)

Emma looked around she knew she shouldn't be in her grandma's vault, but she couldn't help it her curiosity got the better of her. "Wow this amazing now that am not fighting her or anything I can take all this in. As she played around with the potions the blonde sherif failed to notice the labels and warning sign that came with the potions and of course the sheriff started to shrink her clothes were becoming too big for her. Her mind was getting lost and fussy soon all she could do was babble and, in that moment, Regina came and found the sheriff. "Miss Swan, I leave you alone for a couple of minutes and you turn yourself into a baby let's get you to your parents am sure they will be thrilled to have you as their baby." Regina scoops up the infant and takes her home,

Indeed, Regina was right both Charming and Snow were thrilled to get a second chance with their little girl. "Mom as much as I love this, I have a concern this isn't permeant, is it?" Snow worriedly asked her stepmother "No dear this is not a permeant I think well maybe there two possibilities." Regina hesitated to mention what she found out but either way she would have to tell them sooner or later no better time like the present. "It's just that she might be like this and have to grow back up normally or maybe it's a short amount of time I suggest you enjoy the second chance." Regina explained the situation to her stepdaughter the mayor took her leave.

Emma in the meantime Bable and giggled and cooed cutely while her parents fussed over her and took care of her. The first thing that happened was David played with his infant daughter " come here princess let's play airplane," Emma giggled as her dad spun her around. but the fun time would have come to an end when it was time to feed her Emma normally ate well but being a baby, she seemed to be fussy she kept moving her head on the opposite direction of the airplane noises Snow was making trying to get her daughter to eat. hour one and two ended with a messy baby.

"Aww looks like its bath time for our Babygirl right my charming prince." Snow cooed and talked to her husband Charming just nodded at his wife words. "Come to mama sweety," Snow took her baby in her arms, "Charming can you prepare a bath for our baby," David nodded and went to prepare a nice warm bath for his child. He let the water run and checked the temperature once he thought it was okay, he called his wife "Snow the bath is ready," Snow carried Emma and undressed the baby in the water that's when things started to get heated up. Emam started to fuss around cry and splash the water around. "Come on baby. Let mommy wash you, Snow cooed but all that did was made Emma cry harder, bath time was difficult but soon Snow managed to get her little girl clean.

After words it was bedtime for their little girl, they tucked her in the bed between them and Emma soon fail asleep. Emam awoke confused in her body and back to her grown up self, but something smelt odd she wasn't sure what it was.