#black mcs thrive

[exorcxqsm]

Only a fool would bargain with the leader of Onychinus

Word Count: 5,8k

tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, first time sex (not virginity loss) alterations to the main story, dr/y humping, thigh riding, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, dirty talking, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, baby), violence, mentions of injuries. 

Notes:Some of you may have already read my fic, The Price of Desire, in which the reader’s evol is mentioned. If you have, you’ll notice that the evol is the same in this story; however, there is no connection between the two. The concept of a reader with this ability was too appealing for me to resist, and since it was briefly mentioned in the previous fic, I decided to explore it further in this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! All likes and reblogs are appreciated. :3

Going on missions for Sylus was nothing new to you by now. You had spent years by his side since he first found you, a wild creature desperate for survival. Sometimes, you could still recall how close you had come to killing each other back then. You had been hunted by nearly every illegal underground group, all seeking your evol, and while on the run, you stumbled upon him like a scared and feral animal.

You had instinctively tried to attack him on sight; it was all you knew how to do, having fought for your freedom for as long as you could remember. You were no stranger to the danger he represented—the bloodthirsty leader of Onychinus. If other groups sought you as a mere experiment for your power, you could only imagine what Onychinus would do if they got their hands on you.

The moment you realized the person you had fallen headfirst into was the white-haired menace himself, you had attempted to fight him with everything you had. Sylus, of course, dodged every single one of your attacks effortlessly, but he was merely toying with you, for he possessed something you were unaware of; he could not be killed.

You had always been feared for your lethal evol—one touch from your bare fingers could send someone halfway to the other world. You were an extraordinary weapon, yet Sylus was not deterred; he was intrigued, even enamored by you.

With his energy manipulation, it was impossible for you to harm him, particularly when he thrived on high levels of adrenaline and excitement.

So, even as you forced yourself to keep trying to touch him, desperate to end the chaos, he reveled in your fierce determination. He loved witnessing the fire in your eyes as you believed you could take him down. When he finally grew tired of your little game and decided to put an end to it, he was blindsided by a fact he had overlooked.

While he had learned nearly everything there was to know about your evol and your abilities, he did not realize one important thing; you were immune to his mist.

No matter how fiercely the red and black tendrils curled around you, the moment your flesh made contact with them, they vanished into thin air.

Sylus had nearly salivated when he realized the challenge you presented. It had been far too long since he had encountered someone so intriguing, and he was determined that you wouldn’t walk out of that valley without becoming his.

That’s how you found yourself in his group now. Unlike everyone else, Sylus had made a promise that night: if you went home with him willingly, he would never force you to use your abilities for his research or personal gain. He needed you to choose to be there if you were going to help him.

His condition was simple: think of aiding him, and in return, you would gain his protection, a life free from fear and the constant need to run for your freedom.

You had taken a significant risk when you decided to go with him, but the white-haired man kept his word. It took you months to contemplate helping him instead of merely enjoying the luxury of his lifestyle, but he was patient. In time, you became not only his most valuable asset but also his right hand. Whenever he was out of town for deals or missions, you handled matters back home on his behalf.

Deep down, back then you knew he wasn’t just a kind-hearted man simply looking to help a struggling girl off the street. What he truly sought to protect was your evol because he believed you would eventually come around to assist him when he needed it most. So when you finally did, it was no surprise to him. He had merely given you a subtle nod and handed you the first files.

Now, two years later, you stood beside him at one of the many auctions taking place in the N109 Zone. He was after a particularly important and valuable protocore—one he had pursued for years—and today presented his chance to possess it.

Being next to him not only amplified his chances of leaving unscathed without extensive negotiation—after all, who was crazy enough to challenge the leader of Onychinus and his lethal right-hand woman?—but it also made it easier for him to operate, as you inevitably drew attention and distraction from other bidders.

His hand curled possessively around your waist as he proudly showcased you to the crowd. The dress you wore was as red as his eyes, hugging your every curve and accentuating your figure. Your hair was styled in a simple updo, revealing your back to the admiring gazes around you.

The less fabric you wore, the more difficult it was for his mist to approach you, and that was one thing you clung to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—he had come to not only depend on you but to trust you as well. Still, you maintained a small resistance, a defiance that you weren’t ready to surrender, no matter how much it irritated him.

Your gloves were snugly in place, allowing you to interact with him without draining his energy, thus enabling you to warn others of the imminent danger your touch posed. One slip of fabric, and whoever you touched would be lost forever.

“Mr. Sylus, I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” a distant voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing both of your attention. A young man addressed your boss, his tone a mix of surprise and formality.

“Not happy to see me?” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the smugness evident in his expression as he arched a white brow at the man.

“Of course, sir! I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you’d be out of town—”

“Change of plans." Sylus muttered, cutting him off with a tight smile before guiding you forward, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back.

As you walked toward the room where his meeting would take place, you tilted your face up to catch a glimpse of his profile. “He’s right, you know,” you began, curiosity lacing your words. “Weren’t you supposed to return next Tuesday?”

Sylus’s smirk deepened at your question. “If I had known you’d be so disappointed by my early arrival, sweetie, I would have made sure to come back yesterday.”

You scoffed at his remark, subtly flexing your back to shake his arm off, but his grip only tightened, keeping you glued to his side. “Be good now. You know how important tonight is,” He leaned in closer, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it tickled your ear. “Don’t screw this up.”

You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that crawled up your spine from the subtle threat lacing his tone. Sylus had been under immense pressure lately, but you refused to let him take it out on you.

“Sylus.”

He let out an impatient huff as you halted him just outside the door of your final destination, but he turned his body to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and intensity.

“I’m not your enemy,” you asserted, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “Many people work for you, but aside from Luke and Kieran, no one stands by your side with the same loyalty I do. I know you’ve been struggling, but I’m the last person you want against you right now.”

“Oh, is that right, kitten?” His brows furrowed, drawing closer until your chests nearly touched. To an outsider, you might have appeared to be lovers, but the tension between you was palpable and lethal. “And why is that? Because you’re oh-so-dangerous?”

His provoking smirk ignited your anger, and while you couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind, you chose to avoid making a scene. Stepping away from him, you tried to regain your composure. “They’re waiting for us.”

Before you could take another step toward the door, you were abruptly lifted off the ground, hanging upside down over Sylus’s shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered-yelled, frantically scanning for prying eyes. Your surprise deepened when, from the shadows, Luke and Kieran rushed toward you, effortlessly pulling you from Sylus’s grip. “What—”

“Take her to the car and wait for me,” Sylus commanded sharply, his tone clipped and leaving no room for negotiation. As you were carried away from him and the room, you felt a pang of frustration.

“Let me down!” you practically shouted as the twins put distance between you and the auction building.

“Sorry, ma’am, no can do.”

“Yeah, ma’am, we’re sorry, but no one bypasses the boss's orders!”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as the events unfolded, anger and frustration boiling within you at how Sylus had treated you. It was the first time since you started working for him that he had dismissed you so callously, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that coiled deep in your stomach.

You sat in the backseat of the car while the twins chatted and bantered in the front, oblivious to your turmoil. It felt surreal, as if they were living in a different world. Maybe you were overthinking it—after all, you hadn’t expected him to disregard you like that, especially during an auction so crucial to him. You were valuable to him, weren’t you? He needed you by his side, didn’t he?

Your thoughts spiraled until they were abruptly shattered by a loud bang. Before you could process the sound, part of the building in front of you exploded in a fiery eruption. Wait—was that the floor where the auction was being held? The very floor Sylus was on?

Without a second thought, you threw open the car door, sprinting toward the burning building despite the twins’ frantic shouts urging you to stop. Your mind was consumed by one thought: Sylus. He couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t die. Foolish girl, not even his evol could save him from an explosion of that magnitude.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed your limits, charging up the stairs to the floor where you had been just forty minutes earlier. You stumbled multiple times, falling to your knees, but the thought of Sylus pushed you onward.

When you finally reached the floor, it was a scene of devastation. The area lay in ruins, engulfed in smoke and chaos, with scattered survivors struggling to breathe amidst the wreckage. You focused your eyes and ears, straining to find Sylus amidst the agonizing cries of others. Time blurred as you searched, exhaustion creeping in and threatening to overwhelm you.

Just when you thought you might pass out, you spotted it—silver locks, now dirty and disheveled, just a few feet away. Panic surged through you as you fell to your knees and crawled with the last remnants of strength you had left. When you finally reached him, your heart stopped. You had never seen Sylus so vulnerable, so exposed.

You reached out to touch his face, your irritation intensifying at the realization that you still had to keep your gloves on, unable to feel his soft, dirt-streaked skin. With the last remnants of your strength, you shook him gently, your voice coming out hoarse as you tried to call his name.

Slowly, his eyes peeled open, and you let out the breath you had been holding. Unfortunately, you had inhaled too much smoke, resulting in a violent cough that wracked your body.

Clutching your chest, you hunched over, trying to cough out the smoke while moving away from him. Just then, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you down to him. You attempted to focus on his face, searching for any injuries, but your eyes were tearing up, and your vision was blurred from the smoke-filled atmosphere.

Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, his voice broke through, shaky and hoarse but still as sharp as a knife. “What are you doing in here, kitten?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me outside?”

You tried to help him rise, but his heavy body only dragged you down, sending you sprawling onto the floor. As he noticed your condition, his eyes sharpened with concern, and his features turned serious. He began removing his coat, which was now dirty and full of holes.

“Sylus—you need to get out of here,” you urged, trying to push him away as he attempted to cover you completely with his coat.

“Don’t talk right now, sweetie.” His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as he made sure no part of your upper body was exposed. Your hands were now firmly pinned to your torso beneath his coat. “And don’t fight me.”

His fingers came to your face, squeezing gently until your lips formed a pout and your attention was solely on him. “Stubborn little kitten,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection.

Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the tendrils of his red-black mist enveloping you, pushing through your evol’s resistance and carrying you away from the chaos.

When you finally opened your eyes, it took a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The unmistakable scent of Sylus’s mattress enveloped you, grounding you in reality. You were back at the mansion.

Your limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in your head. Every part of your body screamed for you to stay in bed, to drift back into sleep and forget everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. But your mind was fixated on one thing: Sylus.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, quickly glancing over your body. To your relief, you realized you were freshly cleaned and dressed in one of your nightgowns, with no significant injuries aside from a few scratches on your skin.

You took a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your vision wouldn’t fade to black before you attempted to walk across the room toward the door. Sylus’s office was just down the hallway, and as you stepped outside, you could faintly hear Luke and Kieran’s voices drifting from inside. You paused, heart pounding, and when you heard Sylus’s gruff tone, a wave of relief washed over you. He was okay.

After a brief moment, you knocked once before turning the doorknob and peeking through the small opening. Sylus’s gaze met yours immediately, and the twins turned to regard you with their rare smiles. It wasn’t often they dropped their masks, even in the mansion, but now their boyish features shone through. Their red hair was pulled back into matching messy ponytails, and a hint of blush colored their cheeks as they took in your appearance in the gown.

Sylus coughed discreetly, and the twins exchanged glances before standing up to give you two some privacy.

As they made their way to the door, Kieran paused to ruffle your hair playfully, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You gave us a scare there, little crow.”

You regarded both twins with a small, apologetic smile before turning your full attention to the white-haired man seated behind his desk. He still wore his torn shirt, which left his muscular frame fully exposed. With a languid movement, he rolled his chair away from the desk and beckoned you with a finger.

Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as his intense gaze roamed over your form. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you approached and stood before him, his legs slightly apart, causing your knees to brush against the inside of his thighs as he looked up at you.

Your eyes fell to his toned chest, now marred with scratches and bruises—evidence the damage inflicted, perhaps a sign that he was running low on evol energy and unable to heal completely.

“Are you okay?” Your voice emerged as a barely audible whisper, still tinged with hoarseness. You clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting awkwardly.

You weren’t quite sure what had come over you; you had never before found yourself in a situation where you needed to actively express your concern for Sylus until tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t recall too much of what had transpired in that building.

“Worried, kitten?” he asked, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over your body. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch you, yet he seemed equally torn, grappling with the worry that had gripped him when you had passed out in his arms.

You sniffled softly, your eyes darting anywhere but to him, your body tense and rigid as if your bones were locking into place. Instead of answering his question, you opted to redirect the conversation. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”

His expression was unreadable, and you noticed his jaw tick slightly as he processed your words. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, raising his hand to brush his knuckles gently across your arm. A shiver coursed through you at the contact, and you could see the corners of his lips curl slightly at your reaction. This time, he didn’t bother to hide himself from you.

“I did.”

“What?” Your voice came out louder than intended, earning a deep, rumbling chuckle from Sylus. He relaxed further into his chair, locking his carmine eyes onto yours with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

 “What are you talking about, Sylus? When I came in there…” It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the emotion in your voice. “When I came in, you had fainted. What would have happened to you if I hadn’t found you in time?”

Amusement danced freely in his eyes at your small outburst. You truly were exquisite in your concern. “You underestimate me too much, sweetie.”

“You’re the one underestimating your enemies, Sylus!” You raised your voice, your hands gesturing in disbelief. “Just because you’re the leader of Onychinus doesn’t mean they can’t get to you if you’re unconscious.”

“Burnt men can’t walk, kitten.”

A small gasp escaped your lips at the speed and bluntness of his response. His smugness only fueled your anger at his reckless behavior. Leaning down, you gripped the arms of his chair, effectively caging him in. You were about to respond when you suddenly realized the position you had put yourself in. It gave him a full view of your breasts, the fabric of your nightgown flowing away from your skin and leaving little to the imagination.

Your ears and cheeks burned a deep crimson as you tried to pull away just as quickly as you'd leaned down. However, Sylus’s arm had already wrapped around your waist, anchoring you in place and pulling you impossibly closer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way his pupils had dilated, his lips parting slightly as he fixated on your slowly hardening nipples.

“Sylus…” Your voice was barely a whisper now, heat pooling in your core under his intense gaze.

Finally, Sylus’s eyes met yours, and he began to stroke your back slowly, his tone low as if he feared shattering the delicate bubble that enveloped you both. “The explosion; It was my plan all along. Why else would I want you out and away from the building, sweetie?”

A frown crossed your face at his admission. Despite your initial shock, your body grew more compliant under his gentle strokes as he pulled you in, guiding you to straddle his thigh. His red irises darkened just a bit when your pulsing core made contact with his jeans and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he could probably feel just how wet you were.

Yet, he continued speaking, his voice smooth and steady. “Tonight had no other way of going. It was necessary and inevitable.”

“But why?” Your eyes had softened since you’d first entered his room, and you found yourself relaxing more beneath his touch as he explained the events of the night.

“Because, kitten, tonight’s transaction was off the table the moment it was proposed by the other side, a few days back when I was still away."

By now, confusion began to cloud your understanding of Sylus’s motives. “But…” Your gaze drifted to his desk, where numerous files lay scattered. “Is this why you came back earlier? Tonight’s transaction was for that protocore you needed, Sylus. I thought nothing could screw this up for you. Weren’t you after it for years?”

Sylus let out a small scoff, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied your face intently. “You never asked me what the price of that protocore was, kitten.”

Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him again, instinctively leaning closer. Your breasts brushed against his chest, heightening the tension between you as if his answer were a secret he needed to share. “And what was the price?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and a dark cloud crossed his features as he spoke. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, causing you to squirm on his thigh, which elicited a low grunt from him.

Your emotions were a chaotic mess, thoughts swirling together and leaving you breathless as you tried to process what he was implying. “So what you’re saying is…”

“The deal was off the table the moment they thought you were for sale.” Sylus’s leg bounced suddenly, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively flew out to clutch the fabric of his open shirt for stability. “I came back because I had to send a message.”

His voice dripped with malice as he continued to move his leg, sending shockwaves of sensation through your core as it ground against his thigh.

The pleasure mixed with confusion made you feel light-headed; even if you wanted to resist, your body had already betrayed you. There was no stopping your hips from chasing the friction, no way to quell the whimpers that escaped your lips. Sylus’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your nightgown at the sound.

As you continued to grind against him, he spoke with a dark intensity. “They had to know, kitten; Nobody lives to say they tried to bargain with what belongs to me.”

“I—I don’t belong to you,” you breathed out, unsure whether you were trying to lie to him or to yourself.

“Is this why you’re drenching my thigh, sweetie?” As if to emphasize his point, he bounced his knee again, causing it to press against your sensitive nerves with a force that made you moan involuntarily, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.

“You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear, his hand sliding to your lower back, urging you to grind down against him.

“Tonight—you put yourself in danger, Sylus.” You struggled to form coherent thoughts as you chased your orgasm on his thigh, your mind slowly turning to mush. “That was so stupid, even for you.” You finished your sentence with a moan, and Sylus groaned, instinctively moving his hips upward, his own hard-on seeking friction.

“Were you worried about me, kitten?” He dipped his head to your neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses as he awaited your response, which never came. Sensing your hesitation to voice your concern, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingertip pressing onto your throbbing clit, making you cry out. “Answer me.”

“I—yes. Yes, I was s'worried.” Your head fell back in bliss, granting him access to suck and nibble on your throat as your hips moved faster and harder. The tight coil in your belly was only a few movements away from bursting. “I thought I’d—”

“Go on.” Sylus urged, his fingers dancing over your clit as he bounced his knee in sync with your movements, relishing the way you were making a mess on him, your whole body heating under his touch.

“I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped your lips just as your orgasm washed over you, making your vision go black and your entire body shake with its intensity. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest as he let you ride it out, offering the small comfort you sought after your confession.

When you finally came down from your high, you were breathless, panting, and a few tears had escaped your eyes. But he was there, holding you gently and running his fingers through your hair. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, sweetie.”

You pushed your head off his chest, your eyes meeting his soft red ones. Without thinking clearly, you reached out to cradle his face. The moment your fingertips made contact with his skin, his whole body visibly flinched, and just like his heartbeat, it felt like time had stopped.

Horrified and regretful, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and forgotten about your evol. You stood up from his lap, pressing your hands tightly against your chest, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds, and he’ll wake up, like he always does, right? Doubts gnawed at you; he was so weak after tonight, but his evol would heal him. It had to.

Just when you were about to scream for help, Sylus’s chest began to rise and fall again. His eyes fluttered open, and relief flooded your entire being. Your shoulders slumped, and your body shook, even though he was alright. How could you have been so careless?

“Sweetie.” His voice was soft as he stood from his chair, towering over you. “Look at me.”

You tilted your head up hesitantly, your regrets gnawing at you for what you had just done. You tried to open your mouth to apologize, but no words came out; instead, his lips found yours, silencing any sound you might have made. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling gently to angle your head to the side and deepen the kiss until you thought you might faint from lack of breath.

This time, you made sure to keep your hands glued to your sides, not daring to touch him again. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours and moved his hand to the back pocket of his pants, retrieving something.

You tilted your head to watch him unfold two pieces of leather gloves. He carefully took your wrist, drawing it toward him before placing the glove on your hand, then moved to the other to do the same. It was a temporary solution, one that frustrated you to no end, but you wouldn’t jeopardize his life just for a touch of his soft skin.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your thoughts crashing over you like a tsunami of negativity at the prospect of harming him. Your frustration only fueled your desperation, and you found yourself clawing at the remnants of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I need you, please, Sylus, ’m so sorry.”

Sylus groaned as he felt you tugging him nearer, his own hands finding refuge on your body, touching and caressing anywhere he could reach. “Are you sure, kitten? Once we start, I don’t know if I can hold back.” His voice was low and controlled, while your legs trembled with desire and need.

“Then don’t hold back. Give me everything you have. I can take it, Sylus.” You pressed kisses all over his exposed chest, making him gasp and thin his patience. In one swift motion, you found yourself lifted off the floor, your body cradled in one of his arms as he carried you toward his desk.

“You really know how to bring a man to his knees, sweetie.” He placed you gently on top of the desk, taking his position between your legs. Your lips connected again as his hands deftly worked to rid you of your clothes.

Once you were bare before him, he stepped back, his gaze roaming over your body like a starving man taking in a feast. “Breathtaking.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a force that sent you backward, your elbows bracing against the desk for balance. He was too impatient to tease; he dived right in, his tongue lapping at your folds with urgent fervor.

Your back arched immediately, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he worked his mouth on your cunt, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs tightened around his head, the pleasure overwhelming, which only made him groan and feast on you harder.

His tongue plunged into your tight hole, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You thought you could hold on a little longer, but when his large hand spread across your tummy, pressing down, you exploded in his mouth. Your vision went white as you drenched him, your thighs shaking violently around his head.

The realization of what you had done hit you when he pulled away, his chin and exposed chest glistening with droplets of your release. You shot your gloved hand to cover your mouth, your legs instinctively closing in embarrassment.

Yet, he looked even more exhilarated, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them, his lips finding yours once more. “You’re going to do this again. And this time, you’re going to do it on my cock.”

He pushed you back, a firm hand on your chest as you lay spread out on top of his desk. Your eyes focused on his hands as they deftly undid his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. The moment you saw his girthy cock—veiny and the tip angry and red for you—your mouth went dry.

You craved to satisfy him as he had satisfied you, but when you tried to sit up, his hand pressed you back down against the desk.

“Not tonight, sweetie. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”

Even though he spoke, he made no move to get on you, waiting for your consent first. You nodded, your eyes clouded with lust.

“Use your words, kitten. I need to hear you.” He was pumping his cock with his hand, his fingers barely wrapping around it. Standing before you in all his naked glory, he resembled a Greek statue, and your chest tightened at how wickedly beautiful he looked.

“Yes. Please, Sy, need you inside me.” Your voice came out breathless, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped an arm around your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the desk and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to spread you open exactly as he desired.

He pushed the tip in at first, making you clench around him instinctively, as if trying to suck him deeper. An unsteady breath escaped him, and his body stuttered momentarily. You were killing him in the sweetest way. “So goddamn tight.”

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed further inside you, his grip on your thigh tightening the moment he was fully buried in you, his pelvis pressing against yours. You could feel him all the way up into your stomach, and your legs began to shake, even though he remained still.

His breathing had turned erratic, and the moment your hips squirmed forward, his other hand came down to keep you in place. “Shit, baby, don’t move. Give me a moment.”

You were a whimpering mess, sweat beading on your forehead from the anticipation. But the instant he started moving, your whole body unlocked, turning to pudding under his thrusts. He began with a slow, deliberate pace, his lips parting as small grunts escaped him, each thrust igniting the fire building within you.

The more you clenched down on his cock, the faster he moved, until the desk scraped against the marble floor. “Fuck, kitten. You’re squeezing me so tightly.” His voice was thick with lust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only intensified the fire burning deep in your core. “Do you love my cock that much?”

Your mind had turned to mush, thoughts consumed by how he stretched you and filled you to the brim. You nodded uncontrollably, crying out every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Yes! I love it so much, Sy.”

“Good girl.” Sylus’s thrusts quickened as he heard your pretty sounds, the way your walls sucked him in making his thighs tremble slightly as he felt his release drawing near. “Such a good girl, so cock-hungry for me.”

“Ah— fuck.” Stars began to form behind your eyelids, your whole body rocking on the desk. If it weren’t for Sylus’s hands gripping your thighs, you would have slid right off and ended up on the floor from his relentless force. The desk shook violently from his pounding, and you were certain the whole house could hear you.

Sylus’s hand reached for your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip before slipping past it to press down on your tongue, making you clench around his cock instinctively. “That’s it, sweetie,” he breathed, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in pleasure as your cunt hugged him tightly. “Give it to me; I can feel how close you are.”

You were indeed on the brink, your whole body burning and trembling under Sylus’s powerful thrusts. But what sent you over the edge was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Luke’s voice calling out to see if everything was alright.

The moment you realized you had been caught, and Luke could turn the doorknob at any second to find you spread for Sylus, his cock pressing against your cervix, you exploded. Your loud moans were partly muffled by the white-haired man's finger in your mouth. The pressure you applied around his cock as you climaxed made Sylus falter, his own orgasm crashing over him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.

His hot seed coated your walls, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he continued to thrust, ensuring every last drop found its way inside. You were a crying, spent mess on his desk, while he tried to catch his breath, slowly lowering your leg back down from his shoulder.

Luke was long gone from outside the door, having heard enough to realize what was happening between you and Sylus.

You could only look up at him with a small shared chuckle before he leaned down to kiss your lips, his newfound gentleness contrasting sharply with the intensity of the moment. “I believe they received a lesson about eavesdropping now,” he murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

[hrhmimieucliffe]

Are you a fan of Love and Deepspace and a BIPOC?Then I have some news for you! 🤓☝️

Recently, some fellow Love and Deepspace fans and I decided to make a server dedicated to the appreciation of fans who don't fit the typical "demographic" of LADS fans. We see so much content being boosted, liked, shared, and hyped up of white LADS fans and their MCs, whilst there is nothing but crumbs and dirt for those with Brown or Black MCs. To bring awareness to this and create a safe space where Black and Brown fans can thrive and feel seen and heard, we have created Starhaven! We are nearly 40 members strong so far, and we would love to have you!

We are a very friendly server and we are inclusive to BIPOC and LGBTQ+ fans, so don't hesitate to join! Instead of having to fight to join spaces where we're are ignored and left out, we decided it was better to make our own space. If you feel the same way, then feel free to join and air your own grievances! Whether you're a fan of Xavier, Zayne, Sylus, Raf, or even Caleb, your favourite character doesn't matter. We have spaces for all, and we're all very interactive!

**NO MINORS FOR THE TIME BEING** 18+ ONLY

Ah, the things I do for my husbands...

[rae-writes]

Still waiting for the onlyfantoms levi role reversal 😫

nsfw (duh) ; og version || the next onlyfantoms is gonna be the dateables asdhfrgidksjakjs, BUT I'll supply a small drabble- crumbs if you will-

Levi had cramped himself all the way under his gaming desk, completely hidden from the camera's view, except for his fingers faintly peeking out over the tops of your thighs.

And your thighs were spread as far as the seat would allow, spine straightened as you frantically mashed buttons on the controller. There wasn't any rhythm to your mashing, as opposed to the rhythmic way Levi was moaning and moving his tongue against you, seen by the chair rocking back and forth as he kept you pressed as close to his face as he could.

As soon as the game loudly announced 'level completed', he was shoving the chair back and desperately crawling after you, pushing your thighs up and hooking them over the arms of the chair. Now that you'd stopped playing, his whines and debauched sounds were impossibly loud.

His fingers made dents in your skin as he grabbed you, hips thrusting into the air, as he fucked you with his tongue without pause; he thrived off the sounds you made, the way you pulled his hair and said his name, the way you said he was a good boy- good for you.

Within just one minute, he was making you cry out and nearly arch out of the chair, cumming prettily on his face. There was a faint "'m not done yet, Mc, don't wanna be done, don't make me be done-" before the video went black.

[forgotten-daydreamer]

I love how inclusivity is handled in The Dragon Prince, here's why.

In most shows, as much as it bothers me to admit so, some people are right, inclusivity does feel forced sometimes. But it's not the characters' fault, it's not because of them being part of the lgbtq+ community, or being disabled, or being POC, or being strong women who do not conform to patriarchal standards.

It's not that.

It's that the show they are part of is a straight, white, abled parade - and notice, most of said shows won't even pass the Bechdel test.

So yes, in a show written by and aimed to straight, white, abled people, even I, a gay, non-binary, chronically ill person feel weird seeing charcters that are there just for the sake of inclusivity, albeit 'inorganic'.

In a show with the premise of "straight, white, abled men are the indiscussed MCs", seeing that one side-character that stands out and is often ridiculed and/or reduced to a single trait of their 'personality', such as 'the gay one', 'the asian one', 'the disabled one' (etc) is upsetting and feels uncomfortable as hell.

But TDP is different.

They immediately introduced powerful women, people of color, characters that are openly part of the lgbtq+ community, disabled characters etc. And not one of them per 'category', no. For the lgbtq+ community we have Amaya, Janai, Runaan, Ethari, Terry, Kazi. For the disabled community, we have Amaya again, Villads, and even a disabled wolf Ava. For the POC community, we have literally half of the cast, starting from King Harrow, then Ezran, every sunfire elf, Terry as well, etc. Same goes for women, who take up on roles that are rarely considered 'for women', like Opeli being the main member of the High Council, Amaya being the General, Rayla being the main Dragon Guard, Claudia being one of the main antagonists, etc.

Both main and side-characters are part of the communities, everything is so much more organic, enjoyable, thrilling.

We do not come in 'minor quantity'.

We are everywhere, among others, living our lives, doing our best, existing, thriving, proud. It's not just one or two of us among thousands. Surprise, 'categories' can mix! Just like I, a real human being, can be gay, enby as well as chronically ill, we can have characters like that as well! Amaya being lesbian and disabled, Terry being black and trans, Janai being black and lesbian, etc. And, another surprise, 'categories' don't define us. We don't 'shove it' in anyone's face like they say we do, we're just being us and cishets are upset because we don't conform to their sick standards.

Inclusivity is organic in TDP because nobody in that universe questions anyone else's color, gender, orientation, etc. And it's organic because we didn't have to wait half a season to see a black character, or a disabled character, or a gay character.

The key to inclusivity is to realise that we aren't just 'bonuses'. Fill shows and comics with lgbtq+, POC, disabled, and female characters. Not just one every 15, 20 characters. Everywhere.

We are everywhere! We are proud! We deserve to be seen! We deserve to be depicted as the normal people we are, without diminishing our traits but without making them our whole personality either. Treat us like human beings, be considerate like you should be with everyone on the planet of course, but treat us like humans.

Antagonising people who are 'different' (in the mind of straight, white, abled people) will not suppress us. We will keep insisting until you hear us. It's literally one of the main messages, one of the main teachings of TDP and it's so damn important.

Every single person on Earth should watch it. Every single kid should be introduced to TDP at an early age. Every old bigot should watch it, as well. Everybody. Even if it's considered a y7 (y10 for s4 and s5 apparently) show, everyone, no matter their age, should give it a try and watch it thoroughly.

Lots of love to the creators and everyone, literelly everyone involved in the production of one the best, most entertaining, most exciting, most formative shows ever. Please, keep it up! And thank you so much!

[onelastskip]

oh joyous day, my our life now and forever mc, Rena Michou!

Just a bunch of doodles for now I'll do a full body ref and make it purettyy later, maybe… ahh side note i need to learn how to draw tam and qiu qwq something just doesn't look quite right.

and now time to ramble about her: (warning very long)

EDIT: WHY DID NOBODY TELL ME IT SAYS 8W3??? she's supposed to be a 8w7 😭😭😭

She was pretty stand-offish and cold to Tam and Qiu when she first met them, she did not like Qiu at all, from her perspective her Ma's moved her to this town in the middle of nowhere, she accidentally goes into someone's backyard (clearly no way for her to know smh) but she's being the better person and apologising only for him to make fun of her??? Terrible manners. Not only that but he's a show off and has an insufferably smug grin. Not to mention he acts like he knows everything (it's okay when she does it, she's not from a random town in the middle of nowhere).

She still lets him tag along when she goes to find the mystery air plane sender because she's nice like that (how hard was that jeez!) And while Tamarack is loud, she looks a hell of a lot better in comparison to Qiu. Anyway this goes on for a bit with her being annoyed at basically everything he does and tolerating his presence because she's nice (it's because of Tamarack and her Ma). She is however very startled when Qiu gives her the welcome note, she definitely thinks it's a prank or disingenuous, but gosh dang it, he looks so happy she's polite so she'll say thank you.

She starts liking him after the park where they race and she wins, and opposite to all her expectations - because this is something he's been most proud of, he doesn't get upset or annoyed he's even more happy somehow… And that's when she has to accept everything she thought about this guy was wrong.

Some more random stuff about her personality and yeah:

She doesn't get most jokes, and she can't tell teasing apart from being genuinely cruel which is- yeah mostly why she doesn't get along with Qiu at first.

She thrives on the challenge, she's always down to do the riskiest thing for the greatest reward, she likes beating the odds (and proving people wrong).

She places a lot of value on following rules and being polite, two things that have been repeated to her basically her whole life (because she struggled with that growing up), so now she's very opinionated/black and white about it.

She likes listening to rock/alternative music mostly, probably tries picking up the guitar in the future- she'd be bad at it.

She likes strategy and puzzle videogames, absolutely terrible at racing, fighting, and rhythm games.

She's got no problem telling someone no respectfully and doesn't like to compromise at all - but even more she hates other people doing her favours, so she takes the path of least inconvenience.

She really wants to be independent and prove she's responsible and can take care of herself, however she still really respects her Ma

She values getting good grades a lot and she's pretty advanced however her Ma didn't want her to move up grades because of her social development. She is not a big fan of this, probably one of their biggest arguments.

She wasn't exactly bullied persay- but she didn't have any friends before Tam, which is probably in part due to her prickly personality but yeah, not a big fan of people her age.

bonus ms paint scribble because she's so cool !

[theprissythumbelina]

So you want to write about horses.

Specifically, you want to write about horses in your medieval-inspired fantasy novel, rpg, or daydream fantasy. Knights in shinning armor on noble steeds, damsels in distress(or not!) on fine prancing mount, or an evil sorcerer cackling on a fierce charger above your poor tandem MCs.

Whatever it is you're imagining, a medieval horse appears. But you know nothing about horses. I can help.

(If you would like to begin with my first basic Basics post, start here)

^ When thinking knight, you're probably imagining a horse like this.

Preface: When talking about fiction, there is always a question of historical accuracy. That is wholly up to you. But you will at least, after reading this, know more of the historical fact involving horses, and certainly know about some of the more commonly-complained about fallacies involving horses in media.

Now, the above still is from the film Ladyhawke (1985), which is often credited for popularizing the Friesian breed in the United States. I can almost guarantee you have see a Friesian in a film or on TV. The recent series Shadow and Bone had a central character ride a Friesian in one episode. They epitomize the romantic nobility and grace of knights. Except they don't.

The horse you see above came into existence in 1879, primarily as a harness and agricultural use horse. Horses known as Friesian horses have existed since the 11th century, but those horses were completely different from the breed created in the 19th century. The modern Friesian is a trotting breed, made to pull carriages and look beautiful doing it. They have a long back, short neck, and due to inbreeding, a host of nasty genetic problems including dwarfism, aortic rupture, hydrocephalus, and megaesophagus.

However, breeds that trace ancestry back to beyond the middle ages do exist, and they have been breed to look much the same for generations. Introducing:

The Barb/Berber Horse

^Kinda just looks like A Horse™

The Barb comes from North Africa, and was spread into Europe through the Muslim conquest of Spain, where the breed mixed with the native Andalusian breed to create the Spanish Jennet, which is possibly the most widely successful horse breed in all of history. The Jennet is currently extinct*, but due to its durability, it was the horse used by the Spanish AND the British to invade the Americas, and descendants of the Jennet survive in local breeds from Argentina to Canada.

*a revitalization breed does exist of the same name

The Andalusian/Lusitano/Pure Raza Espanol

^The true Fabio of horses, known for thick flowing locks and sweet dispositions

Possibly the horse that most strongly resembles the ancient knighly horse, this noble creature used to be the preferred horse of film, before the Friesian rise in popularity. Horses of Spanish bloodlines are Andalusian, horses of Portuguese bloodlines are Lusitano, but the characteristics of both breeds are nearly identical. They are also known for a fancy 'high stepping' movement, in which they raise their knees higher than other breeds naturally.

The Arabian

^Note the narrow, 'dished' face and raised tail, breed characteristics

The ancient horse of the desert, made famous through books such as The Black Stallion, King of the Wind, and films such as Hildago. These horses are known for their stamina and intelligence, and were traditionally used as war horses by the desert tribes of the Arabian Peninsula. The Arabian has descendants in almost all modern breeds, as it is used to add strength and stamina to the original stock, despite being a relatively small horse. During the Napoleonic wars, this horse became the prized war horse of Europe as well, with Napoleon himself preferring to ride Arabians into battle.

The Mongolian Horse

^Thick head, thick body, this horse is made to survive winter on the steppes

Introduced to Europe from the Hunnic invasions that ended the rule of Rome, the Mongolian horse is made to survive, thrive, and run in harsh cold weather. This horse allowed Ghengis Khan and his soldiers to conqure one of the largest empires to ever exist, from Korea to Poland. This compact horse would have mixed with the native stock of Russian, Eastern European, and Germanic tribes to help create the ancient northern horses, resulting in a thicker breed of horse in the north, and a lighter breed of horse in the south of Europe. Modern-day pony breeds such as the Exmoor, Fjord, Icelandic, and other have been found to have genetic ties to the Mongolian horse.

These horses do not exactly look like the modern image of knights on massive horses, but it is useful to remember that 1. people back then were a lot smaller and 2. horses back then were a lot smaller. Of course, there were hundreds of other local breeds during the middle ages, but many have been modernized and become today's sport, work, or pleasure horses.

During the middle ages, horses were not actually defined by breed. They were defined by the work the horse was suited and trained to preform. There were five main types of medieval horses.

The Destrier

Also called The Great Horse for its size, strength, and price, this horse was the renown mount of knights and kings in battle. These horses were highly trained for battle, and could be taught to do such things as striking out at soldiers in front, kicking at soldiers from the back, and even leaping all four feet in the air to protect it's rider. They would wear the most armor, and these horses would likely be closest in appearance to the modern Andalusian.

^Ornate heavy armor on a model horse. This armor was made for a horse not much more than 15hh, what today would be a small horse.

The Courser/The Charger

A lighter horse than the destrier, the courser is also a warhorse, highly trained and well-bred, but a little less expensive. A knight might not be able to afford a destrier, especially as a minor knight, but every knight should have a courser. The Spanish Jennet is the epitome of the medieval courser, and in fact was the horse used by Richard II. According to Shakespeare, the horse's name was White Surrey, although other sources claim the horse was Roan Barbary, and was a Barb or Berber horse*.

*Bought from Spain and likely a cross of Spanish and African blood, so a Jennet. But Jennet was also a classification of a horse type in those days, so, sources are muddled.

The Rouncey

The 'average' horse of the time, this horse was used mainly for riding, but could sometimes be ridden into battle if trained properly, and were the preferred horse for lower-class fighters such as archers or men-at-arms. As it described a riding horse, these horses came in all shapes and sizes, from all lineages, and in all colors. In peacetime they could be used to draw carriages or work fields. A proud and expensive destrier would never be caught pulling a plow.

The Palfrey

A highly-bred, highly trained horse, this horse is a high quality riding horse known for a specific gait, called an ambling gait. This horse had a special pattern of moving its feet that gave the rider a considerably more comfortable ride than the traditional 4 gaited horse. After the middle ages, these horses almost disappeared, only to be recovered in the Americas in the form of 'gaited' horses such as the Paso Fino, the Rocky Mountain Horse, the Missouri Foxtrotter, and the Tennessee Walking Horse. The Icelandic horse has also retained the special Tölt gait that may* be the exact gait of medieval ambling horses.

*may, I am not a gaited horse expert.

The Packhorse

This describes any kind of horse, usually a rouncey, that is used not for riding but to carry supplies. Packhorses could also be mules, donkeys, and ponies, so long as they could carry weight for long miles. These were supply horses, carrying food, weapons, tents, whatever else may be needed.

Knights, Horses, and the Battlefield

^ What an incredible creature of power and nobility. The man is fine too, I guess.

Now, if you have seen the above scene, you have probably seen The Hollow Crown, a historical drama with a few late Medieval battle scenes. In these scenes, knight clashes against knight in a furious charge, leading to pitched battles on horseback. I'm not going to say that never happened, but by and large cavalry was directed against infantry, not other cavalry, or used to conduct maneuvers requiring speed and surprise, such as a charge, a circling maneuver, a bluff retreat and most importantly, to chase down routing enemy soldiers. A knight on horseback was most effective in close quarters against unmounted and surprised soldiers. Lances were the primary weapon, allowing a mounted warrior length to spear and batter down at enemies, and a sword was secondary, as it had a shorter length, and would be used if a mounted warrior was surrounded by infantry or in battle against another knight. Throughout the medieval period, horses sometimes were removed from the fight all together due to unfavorable land, and kept in reserve to either help the army flee or to chase down the fleeing enemy.

Hungry for more?

There are many sources out there to learn more about the medieval period and knights in particular. I would highly recommend that you not look at Medieval Times sources, if only because better sources are out there. I enjoy the videos produce by Jason Kingsley CBE (Yes, that Jason Kingsley CBE) on his Modern History TV YouTube Channel, and find them to be accurate as far as I'm aware.

^ Jason Kingsley and his horse Warlord, in costume. I've sent marriage proposals but I've not yet received a reply.

That's all for this post. I'll have more when I feel like it, and send me questions if you want to know more about specific things or need a writing question answered

Reblogs welcome and encouraged

@jacqueswriteblrlibrary for wider reach

[harlequinoccult]

slsq ros who accidentally (like in an emotional moment or similar) killed deep romance!mc

how would they react? (pls I need angst I thrive on angst, I haven't been watered in so long and my fave vitamin is blood) also mostly wanna hear ab sweetheart that beefcake has my entire heart and di- *gunshot*

damn the opps got em 😔

Elysium: Ely prides himself on his sense of control above all else. killing has never been an emotional thing for them, and that is on purpose, the leash he has on it is a tight one. But a slip up this bad? against you of all people? He breaks. he breaks very, very badly.

Black Dahlia: it elicits a kind of emotion she isn't familiar with. Grief. she's never grieved. she was taught not to. not over any other person anyway. she doesn't know what to do. she's lost.

Overdose: they expected it, in a way. They're dangerous, they know that and yet they still expected- wanted something different. a different outcome, a different kind of pain than they one they're already familiar with and sick of. but it was stupid to hope for anything else, in their life. the relapse comes as no surprise.

Cold: They don't do anything on accident. they don't. they never slip up. they don't. they don't. they don't. what happened doesn't matter. they will move on. like they always have. they will bury this. like they always have. they will not feel this. they will not think of this. they shed themselves of this. they shed themselves of everything. like they always have.

Sweetheart: againagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainithappenedagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainwhycan'thelovecorrectlyagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagainagain

The Host: Ẁ̵̼͎̗͚͔̌̔̈́̎ḧ̴̢̹̘̪́̀̀̕à̷̛͗̿͘͜t̸̨͐͐̓͘ ̵̢̭͔̬̗̈́̑̐̄ȃ̵̧̡͉͎̓̌̄ ̸̡͕͊̉̓̉͝s̸͔̓h̸͓͓̮͐̎͠á̶̱̥̗̋̉ͅm̵̙͌ȩ̵̯̬̐͑.̴͎̮̲̳̮̉

[the-six-that-thrive-if]

THE SIX THAT THRIVE IS A 18+ INTERACTIVE FICTION! THIS DEALS WITH DISTURBING THEMES OF HORROR, MURDER, GORE, VIOLENCE, EXPLICIT SEX SCENES, ABUSE, DISCRIMINATION, AND DARK ROMANCE! PLEASE BE AWARE WHEN INTERACTING WITH THIS STORY

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

♡ | DELVE DEEPER |

♡ | DEMO | ~ LAST UPDATED: AUGUST 2ND 2023

♡ | PATREON | DISCORD | ASK BOX |

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

AMERICA | NORTHEAST | DISTRICT 6 | DATE UNKOWN

ILLECEBRA

/ilˈle.ke.bra/

/noun/

1. the state of enticement and or lure.

· · ───── · ☼ · ───── · ·

“Anyone with the illecebra Illness is destined to die at the age of 22. There is no cure.”

You were destined to die in 22 years. Since the moment of your birth, you have known your downfall. The age in which you die. You aren’t sure why your parents told you, why they wanted you to know on your tenth birthday, but they did. Holding back tears as if they were the ones to suffer, as if they knew the exact moments they’d die. You like to pretend they prepared you, made you live your life without fear, but—

You’re 22 this year. With no cure in sight, and no way to prevent what is bound to happen to you. You’ll die and you’ll die soon. Unless you can make a deal.

Nearly two thousand years ago, creatures assumed only myth broke free from the ground and ripped away the sky. Fighting amongst themselves and fighting and killing humans. Unable to fight against these creatures, the creation of districts came into being, representing states, nations, and countries, bound to crawl amongst the floor and a dome of safety for the humans living.

Your story begins within the District of Six, one of the first domes built, and the location of the Eclipse Facility, which is in charge of studying Subjects who are monsters from the outside.

☼ Bring Death to a vicious cycle and allow destiny to take a course or Save a vicious world, which seems to be beyond saving. It is up to you.

☼ Customizable MC

[Name, Personality, Gender, Pronouns, Appearance(tattoos n scars), Traits, Allergies, Diet, Piercings, Aesthetics, & More]

☼ Ability to have certain traits, likes, and disabilities

[Favorite Foods, Smoking/Drinking Habits, & More]

[Personality, Mental Illness, Hearing Aids, Prosthetic Arms or Legs and choosing how you lost + MORE]

☼ Options that have and effect on romantic and platonic relationships.

☼ Choose between seven romanceable Love Interests or None at All.

☼ Stats that will affect the story.

☼ The ability to fight, run, hide, and survive.

[Harem Route & Poly Routes Optional]

☽☼☾ [THE DEMON] SUBJECT F-24:

THE FIRE WHICH BREATHS — {AMAB - MAN}

A sadistic and sarcastic demon that is often quiet and looms around you like a shadow, he's oddly cold to others and can be described as being dosed with water. He's smart, far smarter than the others, and only cares for your input. He's murderous and has no qualms about killing others for you. No matter how good they seem. He's lazy but has an extremely good sense of smell and exceptional hearing.

“What the others think, matter not. I’m here for you and you alone.”

༺ Appearance:

6’7FT[200.66CM] He says long, shaggy black hair that reaches his waist and messy side hair pieces that messily shape his face. He has striking almond-shaped gold eyes that seem to glow. He has an athletic build and warm tan skin that's littered with scars, such as cuts, bites, gashes, healed bullet holes, and claw marks. He has a facial scar that runs vertically along his lip's left side.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: DEMON BLOODHOUND]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE ANGEL] SUBJECT L-18:

THE WESTERN WINDS WHICH BLOWS — {AFAB - WOMAN}

A calm and energetic person who switches often. Sometimes being extremely energetic and loud, while others, she's calming, and sometimes you forget she's even there. She's kind and loves humans and mortals. She finds their short lifespans adorable and thinks humans are adorable since she's lived many lifetimes. She is quite the birdbrain and often jumps from topic to topic.

“Aw, humans are the cutest~ I just love, love, love ‘em!”

༺ Appearance:

6’0FT[182.88CM] She's a tall woman with the orangish-yellow talons and legs of a harpy eagle, with two large white wings that fade into a pastel yellow. She has the tail of a bird, which is a pastel yellow that fades into a pastel blue. Her skin is white, almost yellow, and she's covered in an assortment of blue freckles, varying in color.

[3000 YRS OLD, SPECIES: HARPY]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE DRAGON] SUBJECT R-12:

THE WATER IN WHICH BITES — {??? - GENDERFLUID}

A quiet and soft-spoken woman who spends most of his time reading. She's very straightforward, blunt, and struggles to pick up on social cues. He likes the dark and spends time in the dark corners, only speaking up when necessary. She's obedient and kind but dislikes humans.

“… No. It is simply easier for my skin to remain in the dark.”

༺ Appearance:

5’11FT(180.34CM) She's a tall and slender woman with dark brown skin that looks almost black and black eyes. She has raven black hair that reaches her feet, with two long dark blue horns. Her back is lined with dark blue spikes. Her wrist, upper thighs, upper arms, and ankles have white armbands. She also has a thick lizard-like tail with spikes that run along the middle. While her forehead has an intricate design, similar to a circlet.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: DRAGON(UNCOMFIRMED)]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ [THE ARMADILLO] SUBJECT X-6:

THE EARTH IN WHICH LIVES — {AMAB - GENDERFLUID}

A hardheaded and stubborn individual who is strong-willed but hates change. They often spend time sleeping, curled up into a ball like a rolly-polly. They hate humans and don't shy away from letting you know; they're sometimes outspoken and aggressive.

“Get away, please! The last thing I need is human cooties!”

༺ Appearance:

6’10FT(208.28CM) He has deep brown skin and glowing emerald green eyes, with pale brown armor plates along his back, starting at the base of his neck, with a long flat tail that drags behind him. He has short curly dark brown hair, and his face is dusted in white and pale brown freckles.

[1046 YRS OLD, SPECIES: UNKNOWN (WITHIN ARMADILLO FAMILY)]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ THE WARDEN:

THE VOID WHICH BECKONS — {AMAB - MAN}

A towering, intimidating man that rarely speaks but is quite sadistic. He cares for order more than justice and is okay with playing the role of the bad guy. He prefers it. He's seen as emotionless and uncaring but constantly aware of his surroundings. He demands attention and unwavering loyalty.

“You must simply follow the rules. Or die. There is no other option.”

༺ Appearance:

6’7FT[200.66CM] Simple black slacks, thick black winter trench with silver buckles and chains, and a black helmet similar to a 12th Century English Knight.

[UNKNOWN YRS OLD, SPECIES: SPECKULATED SHADOW BEING OR CHAOS DEMON]

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

TWO HIDDEN LOVE INTERESTS - THE KING & ????

· · ─────── ·☽☼☾· ─────── · ·

☽☼☾ HAREM [MAIN] ROUTE:

F-24, L-18, R-12, X-6, WARDEN, & MC

☽☼☾ POLY ROUTES:

Poly Route One: F-24, WARDEN, & MC

Poly Route Two: L-18, R-12, & MC

Poly Route Three: L-18, R-12, X-6, & MC

Poly Route Four: R-12, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Five: X-6, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Six: F-24, R-12, Warden, & MC

Poly Route Seven: F-24, R-12, & MC

[You’ll learn their names in book]

ⓒ 2023 CVLUTOSGAMES & the-six-that-thrive-if — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[blueraineshadows]

Brothers Part 15

Garreth Weasley 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Oscar Weasley

A love rivalry between two Weasley brothers. Oscar is an OC created by @eternalremorse and used with her permission.

Chapter Master List (including Ao3 link)

Tags: NSFW, pregnancy, injury, fluff

Chapter 15 - Epilogue

Four years later…

Morning sunlight filtered through the window, the sky clear with barely a cloud. The summer breeze was warm and light, teasing at the curtains that Oscar had recently opened. He hummed to himself, a smile tugging at his lips as he found eggs and bread, gathering items to make breakfast. Shirtless, his pyjama bottoms hanging low on his hips, his eyes glanced across to where two mugs sat ready for the tea that was brewing in the pot. 

His smile widened. It was lovely to have a few days off from the season tour. Coach had been pushing the team really hard, but Oscar was thriving on it. He had never played better, and the team was doing well. A break in Quidditch matches meant he could spend some quality time in his own home, a small flat he rented close to the Montrose Magpies stadium, a well earned rest before getting back to the adrenaline rush. 

Still humming a little tune, he poured the tea into the mugs, adding some milk before carrying them towards his bedroom. Nudging the door open with his bare foot, he crept in, smiling at the little mop of brunette hair that poked out the top of the blankets. Avoiding the items of clothing strewn about his bedroom floor, thrown there in a hurry last night in their eagerness to get their hands on each other, Oscar placed the mugs on the bedside table. 

“Wakey, wakey, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching to grip the edge of the blanket. He tugged it back, grinning as the mop of hair slid further under, a low groan sounding from the warm cavern beneath. “Come on, Poppy. You can't lay in bed all day. MC will be waiting for you.” 

“It's not my fault someone kept me awake most of the night,” Poppy grumbled, shifting under the blanket. 

Oscar chuckled, his hand sliding underneath the blanket to seek out warm, soft flesh. His fingers found a thigh, and he squeezed. “I didn't hear any complaints at the time.” 

Poppy squeaked and squirmed, her head appearing out of the blanket, her hair mussed and her cheeks flushed with sleep. She smirked, her eyes darkening with mischief as she held up the blanket, offering a teasing glimpse of curves he knew so well. She quirked an eyebrow. 

“I have a couple of hours before I need to meet MC. I suggest you get yourself back under this blanket and wake me up properly.” 

Oscar didn't need to be told twice. Breakfast could wait. He dived under the blanket, his hands roaming over warm curves, fingers tickling at soft flesh as he relished the sound of her delighted giggles. 

….*....

The bell above the shop door chimed and the sound of heavy boots on wood drifted through to the brewing room where Garreth was bent over a cauldron, studying the contents carefully whilst checking the notes in an open book on the bench beside him. 

“I'm back!” 

Garreth didn't lift his gaze from the potion as he stirred carefully. “I'm in here,” he called out. 

Sebastian appeared beside him, the scent of fresh summer air mingling with the aroma of his cologne, the skin of his face sun-kissed with colour and freckles. He put his sales case down on a table and pushed a hand through his wild brunette locks, peering over Garreth’s shoulder with a grin. 

“This looks promising,” he said. He gave Garreth a pat on the shoulder before moving to grab up the little black kettle from a stove. “I sold the last of those energy restoration potions this morning. I stopped off at Diagon Alley and saw Prewett in The Leaky Cauldron. He put me in touch with a few of his colleagues at the Ministry, and I sold the lot.”

“Nice one,” Garreth said, glancing over his shoulder with a smile and spotting the kettle going on. “I'll take a brew seeing as you're making. How is Lee? I've not seen him for a while.”

Sebastian set the kettle to boil and began to hunt for some clean cups. “He doesn't change, still impossibly neat and full of himself,” he chuckled. He paused and shook his head. “But he did have a girl with him, a proper little fox as well. She had a lovely set of boobs. I don't know how he does it.”

Garreth laughed, lowering the heat under his cauldron and setting the ladle aside. “He's a charming bloke, Seb. Why wouldn't he get some tail? Don't tell me you're jealous.” 

Wiping his hands on a tatty rag, Garreth turned and leaned his hips back against the workbench, the sunlight streaming through the window glinting on his curling, red hair. His shirt sleeves were rolled back, his collar open, and his cheeks were flushed from the heat of the room. 

Sebastian's sleeves were rolled back too, but his shirt and waistcoat were smart, his trousers were well cut, and his boots were well polished. As the travelling sales rep for their little potion business, he had to look the part. Combined with his handsome looks and never-ending charm, he had their customers eating from the palm of his hand. 

For the last three years they had worked long hours to get this little shop off the ground, a tiny wreck of a place on the edge of Hogsmeade that they had renovated and scrubbed up into a charming little business. Garreth’s dream of being a potioneer was a reality, and it had come with determination and the help from those closest to him. 

Sebastian was his partner, both of them sinking every coin they had into the business, selling potions on the sly during their last year of school before scouting out a premises right after graduation. Despite the concern of his brothers and some words of warning about his Slytherin friend, Garreth had no regrets trusting Sebastian. 

His friend was chuckling and shaking his head as he found some milk and a bowl of sugar. “Of course I'm not jealous,” Sebastian said, his smile turned devilish. “I'm doing just fine with the lovely Emma from the tea shop. Thank you very much.”

“Is this one going to last?” Garreth quirked an eyebrow, grabbing the biscuit tin down from the shelf and popping the lid. “She seems to be keeping you amused. You could bring her to the wedding.” 

Sebastian held up a hand. “Easy now, Garreth. There's no need to rush into anything. If I escort her to your wedding, MC will be whispering in my ears about putting a ring on Emma's finger before you two even get to say I do.” 

“She just wants to see you settled and happy, mate” Garreth said, offering the biscuit tin out towards him as he popped one into his own mouth, speaking around it. “She worries about you.” 

“And I love her for it, but I'm not unhappy,” Sebastian said, grabbing a cookie. “Life is chugging along nicely. I'm not saying marriage is off the table, I just haven't found that one girl that makes me want to jump in yet. We are not all as lucky as you, Weasley.” 

Garreth smiled and took the steaming mug that Sebastian was holding out to him. He knew he was lucky. MC was his whole heart. He lived and breathed her, their lives woven around each other so tightly that he had forgotten how he had managed without her. 

In two weeks, she would be his wife. His heart thudded madly at the thought of it, a smile curving his mouth every time he caught sight of the ring on her finger, a symbol that told the world she was his, and would be forever. 

“Emma is a darling, though, mate,” he said, leaning back against the workbench. “I think you should escort her to the wedding. What if Lee brings his fox with the lovely knockers?” 

Sebastian grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Then I shall ask the little fox for a dance.” 

They both laughed, Garreth shaking his head. 

“You're never going to stop winding Leander up, are you?” 

“Never,” Sebastian smirked. He waved his hand and shrugged. “It's all in good sport, though. I mean, if he was to get down on one knee and snag himself a lovely wife, I would be one of the first to shake his hand and congratulate him. He's a good sport. It's just so easy to get him all flustered and blushing.” 

“We should organise another card game night,” Garreth said, thoughtfully. “Get all the boys together again.” 

“Good idea,” Sebastian said, raising his mug. “We could do it just before the wedding and call it your stag. Your last foray into social gatherings as an unmarried man.” 

“No funny business,” Garreth said, wagging his finger. 

Sebastian grinned. “Pfft, says the King of Mischief.” 

Garreth's look of mock innocence would fool nobody, and they both chuckled into their tea mugs. 

….*....

The sun was hot, the sky a clear and endless blue, but under the canopy of the forest, it was cooler, shadows stretching deeply into the undergrowth. A world apart from the lazy summer outside of the trees. 

MC was crouched low in some bushes, her eyes trained on a lone unicorn that was snuffling into the scattered leaves that lay on the forest floor. There was a wound on her flank, her blood glittering in the low light. 

“At least it doesn't look too deep,” Poppy whispered, creeping closer towards MC and peering through the branches. “Shall we try and get a bit closer? I have some snacks that will distract her while we check the wound.” 

MC chewed at her lower lip, her gaze drifting towards her friend beside her. Poppy wore her hair cut level with her chin, her nose and cheeks dusted with freckles brought out by the summer sun. In the years since they had left school, they had remained close, venturing out to check on various beasts from time to time. 

Her gaze wandered down towards the collar of Poppy’s blouse, the fabric gaping slightly and revealing a love bruise on her lower neck. MC arched a brow, intrigued. 

“A snack?” MC asked quietly. “Looks to me like someone has been snacking on you, Poppy.” 

MC hooked a finger into the collar of Poppy’s blouse and tugged it aside, the bruising continued on towards her collar bone. Poppy sucked in a breath, her cheeks flooding with colour as she hastily brushed MC’s hand away and smoothed her blouse closer towards her skin. 

“You weren't supposed to see that,” Poppy mumbled, her gaze dipping away. Even her ears were flushed pink. 

MC’s mouth twisted in amusement. “It's not like you to get all shy about something like that. Is this still the Unspeakable chap you were seeing? He’s back in town, is he?” 

“He isn’t an Unspeakable,” Poppy winced.

MC frowned in confusion. She was sure that Poppy had explained that his frequent trips away were to do with top secret missions. “I don’t understand. I thought you said..."

Poppy fidgeted with her top button, avoiding MC’s gaze. “It’s complicated.” 

“Oh really?” MC said, worry creasing her brow. “In what way?” 

MC frowned a little as Poppy carefully stepped out of the bushes, her steps slow and deliberate. Poppy was not usually so embarrassed about her love affairs, happily divulging the details of steamy kisses and flirtations with her gentleman. Why the blushing and secrecy with this one? 

“I just...I didn't want to say too much until I was sure,” Poppy said, peeking up through her lashes. "I really like him, MC, and I do want to tell you."

"So, tell me," MC said, curiously tilting her head. "What is stopping you?"

Poppy flicked her gaze towards MC, her blush darkening further as she hesitated, and then she turned back towards the unicorn, her brow furrowing. “I'll tell you later. Come on, let's see to this lovely lady first.” 

Curious and suspecting either this one was married or perhaps someone she knew, MC made a mental note to probe further once the unicorn had been taken care of. 

Following Poppy towards the beast, they managed to keep her calm with soothing words and treats, MC stroking her silky mane whilst Poppy cleaned the wound and applied ointment. 

“I might as well gather some hair whilst I'm here,” MC said, pulling out a muslin cloth from her little bag to wrap it in. “Garreth always appreciates the rarer ingredients when he can get them.”

Poppy handed her a brush. “Here, use this. How is our favourite potioneer? Is business going well?” 

“Yes, things seem good,” MC said, smiling. “Sebastian has proven rather a dab hand at sales, and they have some regular clients now.” 

“Ah yes, that will be that irresistible Sallow charm,” Poppy smirked. She smoothed her hand over the unicorn's glossy coat, her teeth worrying at her lip. “How is Sebastian these days?”

“He is well,” MC said softly, eyeing her friend. “He works hard at the shop, and he receives regular letters from Anne now. He misses her still, but at least they are back in contact.” 

Poppy nodded, her smile warm. “I'm glad to hear it. He deserves some happiness.”

“What of your happiness, Poppy?” MC asked, her eyes shifting to Poppy’s neck. “Are you going to tell me who your suitor is?” 

Poppy’s cheeks flamed into colour again, her mouth parting as though to speak, but the flash of a spell firing between them put a halt to anything she might have said. 

MC jumped back, Poppy crying out as she tumbled to the packed dirt of the forest floor. The unicorn whinnied in distress, bolting through the trees in a clatter of hooves as MC scrambled to pull out her wand. Poppy was choking in distress, clutching at her throat as blood began to trickle from the side of her mouth.

“Poppy!” MC cried, stepping towards her, but the thud of many footsteps made her pause.

Her eyes widened as hooded figures began to flood into the clearing. Poachers. There were so many of them, and it had been a long while since MC had taken part in any combat, preferring to snuggle up beside the fire with Garreth these days. With her magic, she could probably take all of these poachers at once, but ever since that day she had murdered all those people in front of Garreth, she hadn’t taken another life.

Gripping her wand tighter in her sweaty hand, MC moved to stand in front of Poppy, holding up her wand. Her hand shook, the poachers jeering at her, slowly surrounding her with their wands raised. Her chest tightened, her lungs seemingly empty and screaming as the panic began to claw at her. Her worry for Poppy swam sickeningly in her stomach at the sound of her desperate gasps for air, blood bubbling from her lips.

“Well, well,” a woman said, stepping forward. A scar ran the length of her face, splitting her lips in a vertical slash. She smiled, and MC shivered at the grotesque twist. “If it isn’t the little hero of Hogwarts. She’s all grown up, fellas. Look at her!”

A few of them chuckled, but some of them took a few steps back. MC lifted her chin, holding up her wand in an attempt to appear completely in control of the situation. Some of them feared her, and with good reason. They didn’t know she had changed. She had a reason to stay on the right side of the law now. She had Garreth. She was going to marry him next week. 

She wasn’t a killer anymore. No more shadows. 

The scarred woman fired off a basic cast, the flash hitting the dirt in front of MC’s feet. She flinched, her breathing ragged as she stared wildly around at the circle of enemies. The woman laughed, shaking her head.

“A bit jumpy, aren’t you, love?” She tilted her head like a bird of prey. “The little hero isn’t scared, is she? Your friend doesn't look too clever. She might even die. That’s a shame.”

“A shame for you,” MC hissed through her teeth. “She’s a Sweeting. I bet you’ve heard of them.”

The scarred woman stiffened, turning to glance at the man standing closest to her before leaning to peer at a choking Poppy on the ground. MC could feel every panicked thud of her heart in her ears, desperate to get to Poppy and help her.

“They do have a daughter,” the man said, throwing a worried glance towards the scarred woman.

“Maybe they do, maybe they don’t,” the scarred woman said, her eyes narrowing in on MC. “But, bringing this little bitch back to the boss will earn us high favour. I say we take her, and worry about the choking welp afterwards.”

It was a subtle flick of the wrist, but MC caught it, hours of training with Sebastian and the Crossed Wands club had taught her many tricks. MC threw up a shield easily enough, the hex rebounding in a flash of sparks. She met the eyes of the scarred woman, her body slipping into a duelling stance, her heart filled with Garreth and his gorgeous green eyes. 

She had made a promise to herself. No more darkness, but she wouldn't go down without a fight either. 

The clearing erupted into a frenzy of spells, the flashes and sparks lighting up the gloom of the forest, a flock of ravens squawked as they fled the trees in a flurry of black wings. 

….*....

The two silver rings sat neatly in the little wooden box, nestled in a bed of black velvet. A pair. Two symbols of eternal love and commitment between a man and wife.

Oscar stared at those rings and tried to imagine the moment Garreth would slip the more slender ring of the two onto MC’s finger and make her officially his. Once, he would have envied that moment, the twist of it pulling him down inside and reminding him of what he’d had within his grasp. Now, he saw those rings and felt a warmth, a happiness that bloomed in his chest. Not just for his brother’s joy, but because there was a glimmer of hope, his own heart beating with a new thrum for someone who had slipped under his skin, and in the most unlikely situation.

“I can’t believe the wedding is only a week away,” Garreth said softly.

Oscar lifted his gaze from the rings to look at his brother, seeing a shadow of apprehension flicker in his eyes as he smiled. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

Garreth’s smile wavered, and he fiddled with the rolled up sleeve of his shirt, his eyes dipping away from Oscar as he moved around the shop counter. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, his cheeks colouring. 

Oscar closed the ring box with a little snap and moved towards the shop counter, placing the little box onto the top between them. “What is it that worries you, brother? You are marrying the girl of your dreams.”

Garreth’s little huff of laughter conveyed his disbelief, his nerves on full show now as he shook his head. “That is the problem, Os. I still can’t believe that she said yes. We shall be handfast, our lives connected forever, and I’m not sure I deserve to be that lucky. I mean, look at me. I’m just a humble shopkeeper who creates more mess than success half the time, and she is this warm, generous, and amazing witch who could change the world if she wanted. What is she doing with me?”

“She chose you, Garreth,” Oscar said, his eyes softening. Garreth had always been sensitive, hiding it behind his humour and his chaotic pranks. The gap between their ages was so close, but Oscar had always taken his older brother role seriously. “She loves you. It’s obvious just from the way that she looks at you, and she has never wanted that worldwide glory. You know that as well as I do. You give her what she needs, and she will marry you next week because that is what is supposed to happen. She was always meant to be yours, brother.”

Garreth nodded, his lips pressing together as he attempted to work through the emotion that was darkening his eyes. He reached out to touch his fingertips to the top of the little wooden box, caressing the polished wood gently. “Look after these, won’t you? I don’t trust myself not to lose them, and MC will Incendio my backside if I do.”

Oscar smiled as he picked up the ring box. “Of course, isn’t that what the best man is for? I shall take good care of them, and don’t worry, this time next week I’ll be right there beside you, making sure you don’t mess up. All you have to worry about is saying ‘I do’.”

Garreth nodded again, his smile a little wider. “Thanks, Os.”

“Don’t mention it. You should have more faith in yourself, brother. You’re a good man, and you have worked hard to build up this business. That’s no small feat. I’m proud of you.”

“I hope all of this is going into your speech,” Garreth grinned.

“What, and miss out on the opportunity to tease you in public? Not a chance,” Oscar chuckled, pocketing the rings.

Garreth leaned on the counter, eyeing Oscar curiously. “So, are you bringing a date to the wedding? I haven’t heard you mention any young ladies lately. Surely, the well hasn’t run dry?”

Oscar felt his cheeks turn hot, redness spreading across them as he dipped his gaze, running his hand through his copper hair. He thought of Poppy, how she had looked this morning waking up in his arms, and the realisation that he wanted that every morning, not just on the days they could snatch together here and there.

“Oh, brother, you’re blushing,” Garreth said, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. His green eyes sparkled in delight. “Who is she, then? She must be something special to get you as red as a tomato. Since when do you blush?”

Oscar bit his lip, the urge to tell Garreth the truth welling up his throat, the words forming but halting on the tip of his tongue. Poppy was nervous about telling MC. So far, they had been meeting in private, enjoying the time to explore this new side to their relationship. Poppy was worried that MC might be upset, her best friend taking up with her ex. They hadn’t found a way to reveal the truth yet, but Oscar wanted to. He wanted the whole world to know. 

“It’s…complicated,” he said carefully. 

Garreth’s brow creased. “Bloody hell, she isn’t married, is she?”

“Of course not!” Oscar said, shaking his head. “I’m not that much of a rake.”

Garreth raised an eyebrow at him, and Oscar flipped his middle finger up at his brother with a scowl. Garreth laughed and beckoned him towards the rear of the shop, heading for the kettle on the stove. 

“Let me put the kettle on, and you can tell me all about her,” he said. “It’s only fair seeing as you listen to me ramble on about MC all the time.”

Desperate to share what was blooming inside of him, Oscar followed Garreth into the rear of the shop, settling down on the worn settee as the tea was being made. The truth had to come out sometime, and who better to help reveal the truth to MC than his little brother?

“Well, if you really must know, then I’ll tell you,” Oscar said, a fond smile playing on his lips. “It all started when she came to help with that charity fundraising I took part in for the unicorns…”

….*....

The steady rise and fall of Poppy’s chest was the only indication that she was still alive. MC watched the movement, her eyes glassy as she sat rigid on the hard hospital chair. Behind her eyes, the fight under the trees played out, the snap and flash of spell casting, the groans of pain, and the trickle of sweat down her neck. The scent of mud and blood. She shivered, pushing back on the wall of shadow that threatened to loom over her.

She hadn’t killed any of them, though. She had stuck to her word. Instead, they were all on their way to the Aurors office for processing. She didn’t think she would ever forget the look of hate in the eyes of the scarred woman.

A firm hand on her shoulder made her look up, and she felt his warmth, Garreth’s green eyes soft and worried as he looked down at her. He handed her a cup of hot tea, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “You should let the nurse see to that wound on your temple,” he said.

“I’m fine, the Wiggenweld will do its work,” she said softly. “I’ve had worse.”

Her gaze returned to the pale, still form of Poppy in the hospital bed. The Healers had done all they could for now. They just had to wait for her to wake up. 

“I thought I was going to lose her,” she whispered, the fear of it snaking through her stomach with a roiling lurch. She reached for Garreth’s hand. “Those poachers just came out of nowhere. I wasn’t even paying attention to our surroundings. I was too busy trying to get the truth about her mystery lover out of her, as if that was more important. What if she dies?”

“She’s not going to die,” Garreth assured her, crouching down beside her chair and taking her hand more firmly in his. “Poppy is safe, and this wasn’t your fault. You got her here. You saved her.”

Looking at him, the warmth of his hand holding hers, she felt that safety net catching her. One look from him pushed the shadows back, holding them at bay for a moment so she could breathe. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

“Not as much as I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “You have got to stop scaring me like this. Every time you appear all banged up and bloody, I swear my heart nearly falls out of my mouth.”

“It will take a lot more to bring me down than a few poachers,” she said bravely.

“That’s what worries me.”

Her gaze moved back to Poppy in the bed, the thought of her mystery lover floating across her thoughts again. Garreth was right here beside her, soothing her and holding her hand, his love for her making him remain here above all else. What of Poppy’s lover? Would he want to be here by Poppy’s side and offer comfort?

“If I knew who she was seeing, I could have sent an owl for him,” MC said, sipping her tea. “I don’t understand why she won’t tell me who it is. She is being so odd about it all.”

Garreth dipped his head, and she caught the little glance he sent towards the bed, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he tugged at his shirt collar. Her eyes narrowed as colour bloomed on his cheeks, and he shifted slightly, his fingers rubbing against the back of her hand. 

“She will tell you when she is ready,” he said, still not meeting her gaze. He couldn’t lie to save his life.

“Garreth, I know that look anywhere. It’s the look I get when you’ve burnt another hole in a cooking pot, or set fire to the tablecloth,” MC spoke slowly, her cup of tea poised, her gaze fixed on his lowered head. “What is it? What do you know?”

His groan, combined with his eyes closing, almost made her smile. Almost. He was such a big kid sometimes, but her curiosity was caught, and she leaned forward.

“You know who it is, don’t you?”

“I only found out today,” he said, his eyes wide as he gripped her hand. “Don’t be mad, okay? It’s actually rather sweet when you think about it.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, her stomach tensing. “You mean I know him? Who is it?”

Her mind danced through some options. Was it Sebastian? Had they decided to try again? Or maybe it was the bloke from the bakery that looked like a young Professor Sharp, they had giggled over that one for a few days, Poppy making MC’s eyes bulge with her naughty remarks about their old potions teacher. 

“It’s Oscar,” Garreth said, his face lingering between hope and concern.

MC went utterly still. She stared at Garreth as the words went into her ears and drifted through her mind like smoke, her thoughts desperately trying to catch hold of them but they swirled into a dizzying mess that made her mouth pop open in shock. “What?”

“He told me earlier today that he was seeing someone, and I was surprised too when he said it was Poppy,” Garreth said quickly. “They didn’t know how to tell you. Poppy was worried you would be upset.”

“Upset?” 

“Yes. Are you… upset?”

MC shook her head, her eyes moving towards her friend. She couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on the spot under the collar of her hospital gown where the skin was marked with a lover’s bruise.

She shivered, her hand slipping from Garreth’s grip as unbidden images of Oscar’s mouth leaving marks on her own skin seeped into her head. Now he was touching Poppy, kissing her, whispering in Poppy’s ears as he had done to her. Closing her eyes, she shoved those thoughts aside. They were irrelevant.

There was a flicker of fear in Garreth’s eyes, there and gone before he hid it, his throat working hard as he stared at her. MC was not so foolish as to ignore the look she saw in his eyes sometimes. If Oscar and her laughed together, or maybe he would hold her elbow to assist her, or maybe they would smile as he handed her something over the table at family dinners. She could not change the history she had with Oscar, but it was history. They were family now, and her heart was Garreth’s.

But, his fear was not something to be ignored. She did not blame him for it. How could she? She was certain that her own insecurities would play into similar thoughts if the role was reversed.

Oscar had accepted MC’s love for his brother. He had supported them, helped fund the set up of the shop, and had been the first to congratulate them on their engagement. He could have easily been difficult and horrid, and nobody would have blamed him. His heart was big, almost as big as Garreth’s, a trait that seemed to run in the very blood of their family. 

And now Poppy has gravitated towards that warmth. Could MC really blame her? She could see the attraction and had fallen for it herself. Like Oscar, MC should be able to accept their choice and let them be happy.

MC wondered if Poppy had always felt that way about Oscar. Is that why she had wanted to know every detail about MC’s relationship with him - had it been more than just her impish curiosity?

Perhaps those were details that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

What bothered MC more was being lied to by her friend. A friend that could be placing herself into the hands of a man who had the potential to hurt her. Poppy had admitted she really liked her lover, her blushing face earlier today confirming it. What if she really liked him and he discarded her like all the others? MC had feared that for herself when she had been in his arms, and if he hurt Poppy, it could split a crack into their lives that might never heal.

“I need a moment,” she said, standing. She placed her tea on the table beside Poppy’s bed and avoided Garreth’s worried eyes. “I’m sorry. Just give me a moment.”

“Of course,” he said quietly. 

Garreth’s generosity and patience made her heart squeeze as she left the hospital room, her chest tight with the heaviness of the day, her mind reeling with it all as she tried to keep a grip on her breathing. 

….*....

Fear was a metallic taste on his tongue as Oscar raced to St Mungo's hospital in London. Garreth may have said in the note that Poppy was alright, that she had been with the Healers and was resting now, but that didn’t stop the black hole of fear from ripping his stomach to pieces.

He was trembling as he ran through the doors and along the corridor, coming to a stop only when he saw MC leaning against a wall, her face pale and drawn. She was hurt too, a wound slowly healing on her head, and blood stains in her hair as she turned her eyes on him. 

She stared, the depths of her gaze still holding that magnetism that he had come to accept as something that would always be there, no matter how much time had passed. Her mouth tightened, and she pushed up from the wall, her eyes glittering as she nodded.

“You came,” she said quietly.

Garreth had warned him that MC knew the truth, and Oscar swallowed as he nodded. “Of course I came. Where is she?”

“She is sleeping and safe. Garreth is with her,” she said, looking down the corridor. Turning her gaze back to him, she indicated for him to follow. “Come with me.”

The room that she led him to was empty, the bed neatly made and no sign of Poppy anywhere. “This isn’t her room. Where is Poppy?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” MC said, turning to face him.

Oscar was reminded of a day when they had stood in a quiet room like this, and she had crushed him. He pushed the memory aside. He just wanted to see Poppy. She was all that mattered to him now.

“What could be so important that you need to talk about it now? I want to see her, MC,” he insisted.

“I know you do, but I just wanted to talk to you first,” she said. "I need to know where you're going with this, Oscar. She is my best friend. I don't want to see her get hurt."

There was a shadow behind her eyes, a flicker of something painful, and she looked away for a moment, her chest heaving with a steadying breath. He watched as her hand pressed against her chest, fingers agitated as she rubbed them against her blood-stained blouse before she continued.

“I want to know why you two felt the need to sneak around behind my back and lie to me like you have. You could have told me. I…”

She stopped, her breath catching.

“I’m not playing any games, MC,” he said, stepping closer. “I really like her. This isn’t some reckless fling.”

“Then, what is it?”

He met her gaze and thought of a crisp, winter’s night, the way she had looked under the moon.

“Do you remember what you said to me that Christmas in my parent’s garden? You said I would meet someone who would make me forget what it was like to breathe before they came into my life. Well, that’s Poppy. Only, she was there all along and I wasn’t ready to see it. You made me question what it was that I wanted. After you, I was more honest with myself and any girl that came along. When Poppy and I came across each other again, it just felt… right. I can’t explain it.”

“When you look into their eyes and everything just seems warmer, safer, and life without them would be empty and cold,” she whispered. 

Oscar nodded. “I think I love her, MC, and I don’t want to mess this up. Neither of us does. We held off telling anyone until we were sure. The last thing we want to do is hurt you, MC. You mean so much to Poppy. She loves you,” he said, hesitating as he looked into her eyes. “And you mean a lot to me, too. You always have, despite everything. I meant what I said. Trust me, MC. Please. I want to do this right.”

Her lips trembled, and a lone tear slipped from her eye. She brushed it away, looking up at him. “You love her?”

MC dipped her head, nodding slightly as she considered his words. She stepped towards him, their bodies so close he could smell the soft scent of her, his eyes fixed on the face of the girl who had entered their lives and changed so much. She was dainty and beautiful, her eyes holding a depth of warmth, but those lingering shadows that held her in their grip were still there. He hadn’t been able to save her from them, but his brother had a way of chasing them off and continued to do so.

He felt his cheeks flame like they had when he had confessed to Garreth. Receiving the news that Poppy had been badly hurt had shaken him to his core. The thought of losing her really was like having the ability to breathe snatched from him.

Looking at MC, staring into her eyes, he hoped she could see the truth of his words. More than anything, he wanted her to finally trust him. He nodded. “I do love her, MC.”

Poppy had shadows, the ghosts of her past tormented her at times and she had moments when he had held her and listened to her speak of the crimes her parents committed against the animals that she held so dear to her heart. She trusted him with her truth, and that was something that he would never forget, the honour of knowing her deeper because she allowed it to be so. 

MC pushed a finger into his chest, looking up at him with a fierceness that he had rarely seen in those soft eyes of hers. There was an edge to her look that was almost close to the shifting dark he had seen in Sallow’s eyes a few times, and he once again wondered what secrets lay between those two. He could have sworn he saw flickers of blue and white fire in the depths of her gaze, too, as she eyed him.

“I'm going to trust you, Oscar Weasley,” she said, her voice so soft and yet laced with something that sent a shiver down his spine. “I’m sorry I never trusted you with my own heart, but I’m going to trust you with hers. If you hurt her in any way, you will have me to deal with.”

“I’d never hurt her,” he said, hoping that the sincerity of his words showed on his face. “I’d rather hurt myself first than hurt Poppy.”

She nodded, removing her finger from his chest. The cold fire was gone from her eyes now, and her lips twitched with a smile, her usual softness glowing on her face. “You know what? I think I believe you.”

….*....

Sleep was tugging him softly downwards, the warmth of the bed blankets and the softness of his pillow luring Garreth into the welcoming darkness. He allowed his body to relax, the tension of the day beginning to slip from his shoulders as the mattress dipped beside him. He cracked open one eye, a closed lip smile tugging at his mouth as MC crawled in towards him, her hair unbound and loose about her shoulders. He reached for her, welcoming the softness of her encased in her nightgown.

Whilst his eyes remained closed, the lingering lure of sleep still there, he welcomed the feel of her kiss at his throat, her mouth blazing a trail over his skin and her hands smoothing up the expanse of his bare chest. When her lips found his, he kissed her back, cupping her head to hold her there for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. She caressed his cheek, her nose rubbing against his. “I’m sorry I walked away from you in the hospital today.”

“It is forgotten,” he murmured gently, seeking more kisses from her tempting mouth. “You needed to think, I understand.”

She straddled him, the weight of her against his pelvis waking the fire in his belly, chasing the allure of sleep far into the night. As their kisses deepened, his hands dragging the nightdress from her shoulders as she began to rut against him, the fears that he had written in his journal seemed to fade into smaller wisps of thought. Like dust motes, they flickered and shifted, twisting away as their bodies connected.

For a moment there this afternoon in the hospital, he had feared that she still held a candle for Oscar, that her leaving the room like that had meant her jealousy had won out. But then, she had returned with Oscar in tow, her smile softer as she watched Oscar fuss over Poppy.

It was hard to remember his insecurities, the worry that he wasn’t enough for her, when she fell apart in his hands. Staring into her eyes as they moved, their passion, a blaze that made them gasp for the very air to breathe, he knew this was forever. 

….*....

Sunlight filtered through the window of the bedroom, and MC took a moment to look out over the fields of the Weasley farm. The day couldn’t be more perfect, the sky powder blue and delicate wisps of clouds adding a softness that mirrored her heart. Nerves might be dancing in her stomach, but they were the best kind of nerves. It wasn’t fear. It was anticipation. Today was a milestone being placed, the start of the next chapter, and she was ready to turn the page.

The sound of the door clicking open made her turn, expecting to see Poppy with the flowers for her hair, but it wasn’t her. Instead, Sebastian crossed the threshold, dressed in a fine dark suit and burgundy waistcoat, his hair as neat as it would ever be. He gazed about the room before his dark eyes finally found her, his face shifting to a look of soft awe.

“Look at you,” he breathed, closing the door and walking towards her, hands outstretched. “You look so lovely, MC. The perfect bride!”

She could see the shine of his eyes and gripped his hands tightly, gazing up into his face with a wobbly smile. “Don’t you dare make me cry, Sallow, or I will have to fetch my wand.”

“And what if you make me cry, hmm? What shall I do then?” He chuckled, blinking his own eyes free of tears.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice betraying just how pleased she was to see him. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others waiting for me to make my grand entrance?”

He took a deep breath and looked at their joined hands. “That’s just it,” he said, his voice strained. “I didn’t want you to walk out there alone.”

“What do you mean?”

His cheeks coloured, and he fidgeted, biting his lip. “Well, I got to thinking about traditions and how the bride is usually escorted to her fiance by her father. I didn’t want to let proceedings start without at least making the offer, and of course, you can say no… It’s entirely up to you…”

“What are you talking about?” MC stared at him, almost holding her breath.

“I thought I could give you away if you'll let me,” he said, blushing furiously. He shook his head, flustered. “I mean, it's not giving you away entirely because I don't want to get rid of you. Of course, I don't. I aim to be the pain in your backside forever and a day, but someone should escort you to your new husband, and I thought…well, I wondered…”

“I would love you to do that,” she said, interrupting his rambling whilst squeezing his hands tightly. Her eyes burned, threatening to spill tears that would ruin her makeup. “Sebastian. You never fail to surprise me, and I love you for it. I can't believe you thought of this.”

His smile was so sweet, boyish almost, despite the harder lines of his face now. The years she had known him had only strengthened the bond between them. He was the obvious choice to give her away, and she wished she had thought of it herself. 

“Don't cry, now,” he said. “Otherwise I shall be needing to fetch my wand. I'd be honoured to take you to Garreth. You two are so important to me, and nothing will make me happier than seeing you two finally hitched.”

“Look at you being all sentimental and soppy,” she teased, a smile shining through the welling of her eyes. 

“Pfft, don't get used to it,” he said, trying and failing to look cool and collected. His face twisted up into the mockery of a frown. “And I still can't believe you're going to be a Weasley. MC Weasley. That's going to take some getting used to.” 

She laughed and pulled him closer, squeezing him tightly, suddenly feeling so very grown up in her wedding gown. How quickly adulthood had come to claim them. 

The door opened, and Poppy stepped through, her eyes widening at them. “Oh, I'm sorry,” she said, wincing as MC and Sebastian parted. “Did I just interrupt a tender moment?” 

“Ridiculously tender,” Sebastian said, turning to offer Poppy a sweeping bow. He smirked, eyes twinkling. “Miss Sweeting, or is that going to change and become another Mrs Weasley rather soon? I swear they will take over the world one day with that name. There are so many of them!” 

Poppy blushed a brilliant red and swiped her hand in Sebastian’s direction, her other hand clutching gorgeous summer blooms for MC’s hair. 

“Oh, give over you scoundrel,” she huffed, but her eyes twinkled with just as much teasing as his. “You didn't seem to mind when a particular Weasley cousin was smiling your way just before.” 

MC cocked an eyebrow and smothered a chuckle at the tinge of pink on Sebastian's face. 

“I haven't the foggiest what you mean, Poppy dearest,” he said. He turned to MC and offered her a bow, too. He smiled. “I shall wait at the foot of the stairs for you.” 

With a wink for them both, he was gone, closing the door softly behind him. Poppy watched him go with a small sigh, and she shook her head. 

“He has so much charm it is almost dangerous,” she said. 

MC met her gaze, and they giggled, a happiness blooming in MC’s chest that stole her breath in the best possible way. 

….*....

One year later…

Catching the end of his pencil between his lips, Garreth studied the sketch he had drawn onto the page of his journal, the lines quick but flowing in his haste to capture the moment. He lifted his gaze up to where MC stood at a window, her eyes staring out at the lovely gardens laid out in the courtyard of St Mungo's Hospital. One hand was supporting her lower back, and the other lay atop the beautiful swell of her stomach. His eyes softened, his mouth lifting in a smile filled with love as he watched her, his gaze dropping to the sketch he had made to capture this moment. 

“I hope you haven't made me look like a whale,” she said, turning her head to smile at him. 

“Impossible,” he said, closing the journal and pocketing it. “I only draw what I see.” 

He stood and moved towards her, stepping up behind her and smoothing his hands over her stomach, feeling out for those precious little wiggles underneath. His child, their child. He couldn't wait to hold him or her. 

MC put her hand over his, leaning back against him with a sigh. “I can't believe this will be over soon, and baby Weasley will be here. This is our last check-up before the birth.”  

He hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Just think, our little one is almost ready to arrive, and Oscar and Poppy are only just starting their baby journey. I'm taking full credit for Oscar planting one in her so soon. He couldn't be outdone.” 

MC laughed, the sound filling his ears and the vibration of it pleasant against his chest. The baby kicked firmly against his hand, and he grinned. 

“Don't say it like that,” she scolded gently. “I think it's wonderful news. Poppy is so happy she could burst. She will make a wonderful mother.” 

She fell quiet, and Garreth soothed his hands over her bump, his kiss soft near her ear. As their due date grew closer, he could tell MC was apprehensive, worried about being a good mum. 

“As will you,” he said firmly. “You have so much love to give, MC. You will be amazing, I just know it.” 

He saw the flash of her smile and held her just a little closer. He had never loved her more. 

“Mr and Mrs Weasley?” 

They both turned to see a nurse smiling at them. She gestured down the corridor. “The Healer will see you now.” 

He reached for MC’s hand, their eyes meeting as she turned from the window. “Ready?” 

She nodded, her smile reaching her eyes as she squeezed his hand. “I'm ready.”

Together, they followed the nurse towards the Healer's room, exchanging pleasantries with her, sharing their excitement about the future, and welcoming their unborn child into the world.

The first of many he hoped. 

The End

Thank you. Thank you to everyone who read this fic, left comments, reblogged and liked, came to say hi on Ao3, or helped me flesh out ideas on Discord. I love and appreciate all of it. This fic was a journey, and I am sad that it is over. I've become closer to Garreth and Oscar, explored their personalities, and loved every minute.

Thank you!! And, on to the next...

[miss-celestia13]

Steal My Breath

Jake x MC Smut One-Shot

Words: 2.2k

A visit to her childhood home brings up an interesting question for Jake. “Have you ever fucked someone here?” He takes her negative response as a challenge.

It's been ages since I wrote for this, and I'm glad I managed to get back to these two. As usual, it's just a smut and love one-shot. If anyone wants to read, nothing needs to be read before reading this. There is no plot, only filth. MC's name is Manon.

Breathplay.

Manon’s POV

The clock beside her bed ticked past 2 am and she took to memorizing Jake in her old room and wondering how she had gone from being utterly hopeless to this. Having nothing but hope and joy for the future, it was a gift, and she didn't want to waste it ruminating on the ghosts.

She looked at him, admiring the firm line of his stubbled jaw and the lips she knew better than her own. He was her peace in a world of war and bloodshed. And he was the chaos and desire when their world was bright and open and beautiful.

All of him, fashioned just for her. All of her forged in fire and blood for him.

His face was oddly severe as she stroked her fingers over his thumping heart and let the heat of him ease her chilled bones. She wanted to remind herself she was alive and thriving, that no matter how hard it got, there was good waiting for her.

She had to swallow a few times. Her mouth was so dry, but she managed a silly joke.

"What are you thinking? You look like you're trying to solve a math problem in your head and you're failing," she laughed. Her earlier stress faded away under the power of his attention as he met her venom gaze.

"I was wondering..."

His lips twitched, his hand trailing over the flare of her hip and gripping her tight, the heat of him like a branding through her clothing. Concern still lurked in his gaze, but he sensed the shift in her mood and reacted in kind.

He looked at her through a fan of thick black lashes as she waited for him to elaborate.

She wasn't very good at waiting.

Manon arched a brow and said, "Yes?" When he just kept touching and touching her.

His indigo eyes blinked and locked on her, lust threading through his irises. And they were darker than they were seconds ago.

"Have you ever fucked someone here?"

Manon laughed, cackled really, "No, do you think anyone other than Steve would have made it past my dad?" With an unladylike snort, she shook her head at the mental picture of a poor, horny teen boy, rosy-cheeked and stuttering, as her dad read him his rights. She went on, "I had to fuck myself."

"But you lived here alone for a while," he reminded her.

Manon rarely ventured back to those days, even now, multiple lives away from it. She never sought those memories out of the locked wrought iron cage in the back of her hive of a mind.

Sex had been her drug to fill the numb, hollow plain where her heart used to reside. She didn't go out all the time, no, too lost in her head for that.

But when she went out, she drank just enough to feel warmed through and buzzed, seeking her target for the night.

Some nights, she left empty-handed. Often, she went home with someone. She took no one back to her place. They were one-night stands, and she just needed to feel something, not embed them in the fabric of her shattered life.

They'd discussed past loves before, and she felt no anxiety opening up about this.

"I never brought them home. They took me home."

Nothing but quiet understanding shone in his crystal eyes, a slight tightness in the corners of his closed, smiling mouth told her he wished he'd been there for her then just like she would trade all the money she had to be at his side as his world became a real life thriller without the promise of justice until she demanded it for him.

He was everything to her, and she knew she was everything to him. Like he was a trophy or a champion ring, she coveted and hoarded him inside herself to keep him safe and hers. The possessive way he touched her echoed her silly thoughts, and she wanted to feel the heaven in him meeting the hell in her.

Leave this place with a wonderful memory to ease the pain of all the awful ones.

Jake grinned like a devil as he read the thoughts on her face, his heated gaze holding her in sway.

"We're here now, and no one can stop us."

As she smirked at him, his hands pulled her in and wound around her, heat and light glittering through her as he brushed his lips over hers.

Featherlight and gentle, so at odds with how hard he gripped her hip and made her skin bloom wild with violets. She wriggled closer and laid a possessive hand on his neck. He pulled back and searched her eyes for any sign of distress, and she knew he didn't find it when the shadows in his sapphire gaze vanished.

She tilted her head, admiring the sparkle of her engagement ring as she said, "What are you waiting for?"

He instantly lunged and captured her lips in his, hungry and urgent; he kissed her until her head spun and aching want pulsing through her veins until her entire body trembled with it.

Her shaking hands laced through his hair as she swung her leg over his and pressed in as close as she could.

Manon's blood shimmered.

His wandering hand found her jaw, fingers tracing along and curling behind the bone, trailing down her neck, and wrapping around her throat to feel her pulse skittering under his fingers and thumb.

Her breathing quickened and slowed with the pressure of his hand as it tensed and relaxed, scalding, wet heat cascaded through her. Pooling between her thighs as a hollow ache opened inside her.

There was an invisible cord of love and deep trust between them, and a heady, liberating sense of having no control that ran through her. She gladly handed herself over to him. And knew he would take care of the need rising like a tide to drown her.

She whined low in her throat as sweet desperation and nerve flaying anticipation pricked over her skin like needles as his free hand wove through her hair to pull her lips more firmly against his.

His tongue slid alongside hers, bristled lips teasing and bruising her mouth as she smiled into it, greedily inhaling his arousing scent with every scant breath.

The simmering heat in her abdomen, the familiar catching sensation in her chest, and the wild thrum of molten blood in her veins. It was the most intimate and cherished thing she'd ever known.

His body aligned with hers. She melted into him and filled every hollow space between them, absorbing his fierce heartbeat as it pounded alongside hers.

How good and right and real he felt pressed into her. It was all that mattered.

He was like fire and she raised no resistance as he burned his way in. His lips seared against hers, one roasting hand splayed wide on her lower back as she wriggled until his knee parted her legs, and she sighed into his mouth, happier than ever.

There was still a slight hint of, "we shouldn't do this. We will be caught any minute." In the back of her mind, that almost made her want to laugh.

It intensified her desire instead.

The hand collaring her throat tightened. A strangled moan left her when he eased up.

All that strength — he was so very careful to leash it with her, and she took great delight in pulling at his every trigger to make him loosen his hold on himself.

He pressed his fingers into the veins under her skin, cutting off the flow of her blood again and again, creating a dazzling rush of euphoria. She felt high, so sensitive even the air whispering against her skin felt like a heated caress against her dewy skin.

They hurriedly undressed each other. No shame or hesitation. Both hungry and wanting.

He kissed every scar as he unveiled them. Hot mouth sending flares of flame spiraling through her and she grew so wet. He chuckled possessively as he dipped a finger into her soaked folds. She tasted the salt and musk as she dragged her lips across his chest as she nearly ripped his shirt from his body to get to the skin underneath.

Soon, nothing stood between but shivering anticipation and deepest, darkest desire.

His hand came up to grip her throat again, her body arching and trembling as his lapis eyes watched her every reaction. He taunted her with a gentle squeeze on her neck that restricted her breath, a single finger grazing her clit as she gasped and writhed.

She was so ready for him. So wet and hot and pliant he didn't torture her for long as he palmed his hard cock, vicious lust etched across every line of his handsome face.

He gave her an order, "Hold on tight, don't let go, Sweetheart."

Her hands instinctually lifted and grabbed hold of the wooden bedposts, arcing her body into an elegant arch as he spread her thighs wide.

She felt the head of his cock pressing into her. Thick and very hard, he pushed in. He glided through her slick cunt so fast her eyes rolled back and her knuckles bleached white on the wood as she struggled to absorb him.

Pressure and fullness. It obliterated all thought as her body acclimated to his invasion. He was holding his breath, eyes shadowed and breath short as he felt her cunt yield to him, wetness dripping from her with every tiny shift of his cock against her fiery flesh.

When he moved, it was emphatic and utterly devastating.

Forceful thrusts into her tight clasp, fingers cutting into her hips as he pulled and pushed her body with every snap of his hips.

The tension was like a screw being turned too tight inside her, twisting and twisting, tightening until her skin quivered and his name rolled off her tongue.

Heat and fire bled through her as her legs wrapped around his waist and he braced his elbows on either side of her head.

He took her mouth with the same ferocity he took her cunt with. Rapid flicks of his tongue against hers, sliding and tangling together, joined so closely they felt like one being as she shuddered and keened.

His cock grinding and jabbing deep, his groin catching her swollen clit, and his ravenous mouth all worked together to destroy and heal her.

All she felt was pleasure, love, and desire so intense, her toes curled with it.

She was moaning as he fucked her. So lost in him and the whirling flames of his lust for her, she never wanted to be found.

Jake was insatiable. Tearing moan after moan from her and demanding more with every brutal lunge of his cock inside her taut heat. She saw the black desire eating away at him. Her fingers itched to pull at his hair to feed it, but his hand came up and enveloped her throat once more.

She could only burn and feel and breathe through the incredible pleasure threatening to steal her sanity as his hand flexed.

Tension strung so tight she went rigid, her eyes flashing her distress at him as she needed more to fly off the precipice, slicing her in half. He immediately understood and nodded, silent permission that made her loosen her hold on the headboard.

She worked one hand between them, fingers soon soaked in her own essence as she circled her clit. Her other hand weaved through his hair and dragged him in, kissing him so forcefully he paused in surprise before returning her famished kiss with equal fervor.

Her swirling fingers on her clit sent embers flying through her, the tension pulled so taut she wailed as Jake rattled her with a thrust so savage she felt it in the soles of her feet.

Sweat beaded on their skin. The sharp and heady scent of her own arousal was unmistakable in the air between them. It was like a humid warmth that cloaked them both and turned their desire up to lethal levels.

Jake broke free of her mouth and sobbed her name as her cunt clenched down hard, her busy fingers pushing and pushing her to release as the skin on her belly trembled.

The sound was like a siren call to her. It slithered like a shiver through her nerves and coiled in her core to intensify the pressure of his cock filling her again and again.

He was so warm. He was hers. Her world wasn't cold with him and never would be. The thought sent her over the edge with another flick of her fingers.

Her cunt clasped his cock so tightly she took him down with her. His shocked shout bled into a rippling growl she felt between her quaking legs as release surged through her like a landslide of molten lava.

A storm of tingles and shocks burst under her skin as she shivered and shook. Her breath came in great gasping bursts as wave after wave of glittering, searing sensation rolled through her. She was mindless, lost in utter glory, and pleasure as it swamped her system so thoroughly she thought it would never end.

She was aware of herself making noise but couldn't understand a word of it as Jake kissed her to soothe her. He swallowed every twitch and sound her orgasm incited and she reveled in the feel of him still locked inside her body.

His body blanketed hers as her useless, boneless legs fell away from his waist and flopped down on the bed. She held him close, nails scratching at his damp skin and hands smoothing over firm muscles as they made their way to his raven hair.

Tiredness forced her eyes shut as he nuzzled her neck and breathed her in. She just kept holding him. She didn't let go until they woke up later that day and they began packing the things she wanted to keep.

**********************

Thank you for reading if you made it this far! Likes, comments, and reblogs are love and very much appreciated. If you feel like it, of course 🥰❤️

Links to the whole story and all my others are in my pinned post ❤️

[peppymintdreams]

Everybody Get in the Fuckin Holiday Spirit

Luca x Reader

The moment the clock hit August first, the world changed.

Well, not for everyone—but for the MC, it might as well have. They shot up in bed, the air charged with a sense of impending doom, or perhaps excitement. Their eyes darted to the calendar on the wall, August 1st, in bold black letters. It was time.

Luca was still half-asleep beside them, blissfully unaware of the storm about to be unleashed. They leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, gently whispering, "See you later, love," before slipping out of bed and into action.

By the time Luca was up and gone to work, the house was already a battlefield. MC had wasted no time. The storage boxes were out, the decorations spilling across the floor like an army ready to be deployed. They sifted through piles of orange and black, strategically pulling out what they deemed essential for their mission: transforming their home into the ultimate Halloween sanctuary.

It was a war zone every year, but one they thrived in. As soon as the calendar switched from July, it wasn’t just the beginning of a new month—it was a countdown to Halloween. And MC? They took their holidays very, very seriously.

Holidays are not for the weak, they thought as they held up a plastic skull. MC could hear Luca’s voice in their head already, his usual teasing laced with affection. But they were on a mission. And nothing—not even their adorable fiancé—could stop them.

At the store later that day, it was like a battlefield. The aisles were filled with people, but MC wasn’t fazed. They were like a soldier, eyes sharp, movements quick. Luca had made the mistake of getting distracted by some candles in the home decor section, leaving MC free to execute their plan.

Target acquired.

There it was. The giant, illuminated jack-o'-lantern they'd been eyeing for weeks, towering over the rest of the decorations like a prize waiting to be claimed. MC zeroed in on it, already imagining it glowing from the front porch. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only one with their eyes on the prize. A woman a few aisles down seemed to have the same idea.

MC’s heart raced. It was now or never.

They made a dash for it. The other shopper noticed, but MC’s speed was unmatched. With a quick, stealthy maneuver, they snatched the pumpkin just as the woman reached out.

"Sorry," MC said with a winning smile, though their tone suggested not sorry at all. "Holiday spirit, you know?"

The woman narrowed her eyes but said nothing, retreating to the clearance section in defeat.

When Luca reappeared from the candle section, MC was standing proudly by the cart, their trophy safely nestled inside. Luca took one look at them, then at the cart full of decorations, and sighed with a smile. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," MC said, far too innocent, twirling a strand of tinsel around their fingers. "Just spreading some holiday cheer."

It was the day after Halloween when Luca finally said something.

The decorations were still up—spiders, cobwebs, the works. The house looked like it was still mid-haunt, even though the trick-or-treaters had come and gone, and the candy bowl was now filled with wrappers.

Luca walked into the living room, eyeing the eerie glow of the plastic pumpkins in the corner. He turned to MC, who was already sifting through storage boxes again, pulling out things with the intensity of someone preparing for war.

"MC," Luca said with a raised brow, "Halloween was yesterday."

Without missing a beat, MC straightened up, a roll of garland in their hands, and shot him a look over their shoulder. "You knew what you were signing up for when you married me."

Luca chuckled, walking over to press a soft kiss to their temple. "I did, didn’t I?"

"And besides," MC added, turning around with a mischievous grin, "it’s never too early to start decorating for Halloween, and you know it’s the same for Christmas.

It was the day after Halloween when Luca finally said something.

The decorations were still up—spiders, cobwebs, the works. The house looked like it was still mid-haunt, even though the trick-or-treaters had come and gone, and the candy bowl was now filled with wrappers.

Luca walked into the living room, eyeing the eerie glow of the plastic pumpkins in the corner. He turned to MC, who was already sifting through storage boxes again, pulling out things with the intensity of someone preparing for war.

"MC," Luca said with a raised brow, "Halloween was yesterday."

Without missing a beat, MC straightened up, a roll of garland in their hands, and shot him a look over their shoulder. "Again, You knew what you were signing up for when you married me."

Luca chuckled, walking over to press a soft kiss to their temple.

"And besides," MC added, turning around with a mischievous grin, "it’s never too early to start decorating."

Luca sighed with mock exasperation but couldn’t help the fond smile on his face. Because despite the chaos, despite the competitive shopping and the decorations that stayed up far too long, he loved every minute of it. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"I guess I better get the tree out of storage," Luca said with a wink.

MC beamed, tossing a snowflake garland over their shoulder. "Now you’re talking."

As the days went by, Luca could only watch in awe—and mild terror—as their house slowly transformed into a shrine of holiday fervor. Halloween decorations had barely been packed away, and yet the scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air. Strings of lights twinkled from every possible surface, and the living room had been overtaken by wreaths, stockings, and tiny, festive figurines.

It wasn’t even mid-November yet.

Luca, stirring his morning coffee, watched MC dart around the room, stringing up yet another set of twinkle lights. "You know," he began, "most people wait until after Thanksgiving to start decorating for Christmas."

MC paused, mid-tangle with a stubborn string of lights, and shot Luca a look that could only be described as determined. "Most people are amateurs, and frankly lets be real luca, fuck thanksgiving" they said giving him a glare “mc?!” he said yelling at them “Luca! Settlers stole land from the natives and initiated violence on them, and besides nobody does it for the meaning of the fuckin holiday they only celebrate it to eat food without feeling guilty, reconnect with family members they’ve never met or nobody remembers and have stupid arguments about politics”

Luca couldn’t help but laugh. "Of course. How could I forget? You’ve declared war on the calendar."

"Damn right." MC finally freed the lights, smiling triumphantly before moving on to hang them along the windowsill. "We’re winning this battle, Luca. You just wait. By December, this place will be the most festive house in the neighborhood."

"I’m sure it will be," Luca said with a fond smile, sipping his coffee. "But don’t you think there’s... a limit to how much tinsel one house can handle?"

MC turned, mock-gasping as if Luca had committed the ultimate betrayal. "How dare you suggest such a thing!"

Luca held up his hands in surrender, still chuckling. "Okay, okay. No limits. Just... try not to tinsel the cat again, yeah?"

At that, Mocha—their fluffy kitten—let out a soft meow from her perch on the couch, as if to echo Luca’s concern. MC’s eyes lit up mischievously, and they picked up a tiny Santa hat from the nearby decorations box. "No promises," they teased, approaching Mocha with the hat in hand.

"MC, no," Luca said, but his protest was half-hearted at best. He watched, amused, as MC carefully placed the hat on Mocha’s head. The kitten blinked in mild confusion but stayed still, apparently accepting her fate as the household’s newest festive prop.

"There," MC said, stepping back to admire their handiwork. "Now she’s ready for the holiday season."

Luca shook his head, but the smile on his face never faded. "You’re unbelievable."

"And yet," MC said, turning to face him with a smirk, "you love me."

"Can’t argue with that," Luca replied, walking over and wrapping his arms around them from behind. He rested his chin on their shoulder, watching as they continued their decorating. "Though, I’m beginning to think I might’ve married a holiday-obsessed madman."

MC grinned, leaning back into his embrace. "You knew exactly what you were signing up for, Luca Pearce."

Luca hummed thoughtfully, pressing a soft kiss to the side of their neck. "I did. But I have to admit, it’s kind of fun watching you go all out like this."

"Kind of fun?" MC scoffed, but their tone was playful. "It’s a full-on holiday experience. And this is only the beginning."

"Oh no," Luca teased, pulling them closer, his breath warm against their skin. "What more could there possibly be?"

MC turned in his arms, eyes gleaming with excitement. "You haven’t seen anything yet. This is just the pre-game. Wait until we get the tree up. And don’t even get me started on the gingerbread house-building competition."

Luca raised an eyebrow. "There’s a competition now?"

"Of course!" MC beamed. "What’s Christmas without a little friendly competition? Last year, I let you win. But this year..." They trailed off, narrowing their eyes with a mock-serious expression. "This year, you’re going down."

Luca chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to their forehead. "We’ll see about that. But, you know, I’m not above sabotaging your gingerbread house."

MC gasped in exaggerated horror, swatting him playfully. "You wouldn’t dare!"

Luca grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Try me."

They shared a laugh, the warmth between them wrapping around the room like the Christmas lights that blinked softly in the background. MC, now more relaxed, leaned into Luca’s chest, their arms snaking around his waist. "You’re impossible," they murmured, smiling against him.

"And yet," Luca said softly, repeating their earlier words, "you love me."

MC looked up at him, their eyes shining. "I do," they whispered. "Even if you sabotage my gingerbread house."

Luca laughed quietly, pressing his lips to theirs in a soft, tender kiss. The world around them faded for a moment, the holiday chaos forgotten in the warmth of their embrace. As the kiss deepened, Luca’s hands slid up to cradle MC’s face, his touch gentle, his heart full.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were smiling, the playful energy between them lingering like the soft glow of the Christmas lights.

"I guess we make a pretty good team," Luca murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over their cheek.

"The best," MC agreed, resting their forehead against his. "Even if I take the holidays a little too seriously."

Luca chuckled, tightening his hold around them. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

It was mid-afternoon when Luca noticed the package by the door. A massive box, wrapped in bright, festive tape, clearly marked as something fragile. He raised an eyebrow, setting down his book and walking over to inspect it. "MC, did you order something?"

From the kitchen, MC appeared, their face lighting up with excitement when they saw the box. "Oh, finally! It’s here!" They rushed past Luca, barely able to contain their excitement as they tore open the packaging.

Luca’s eyes widened as the contents were revealed. Inside was an enormous, intricately detailed, hand-painted Christmas village set. Little snow-covered houses with tiny glowing lights, miniature people frozen in mid-carol, and a majestic ice-skating rink in the center, complete with moving figurines. It was beautiful... but Luca couldn’t help but feel a bit of concern creeping in.

"Uh, MC... how much did this cost?"

MC paused, glancing up at him, their grin faltering just a touch. "Oh, you know... a little holiday splurge."

Luca crossed his arms, giving them a knowing look. "Define 'little.'"

"Well..." MC hesitated, avoiding his gaze for a moment before finally muttering, "It wasn’t that expensive."

Luca raised an eyebrow. "MC..."

With a sheepish smile, they finally confessed, "Okay, fine! It was a little expensive. But look at it!" They motioned grandly toward the set, as if presenting a priceless work of art. "It’s perfect! It’s going to be the centerpiece of our holiday decorations this year."

Luca sighed, rubbing his temples, but his voice remained soft. "You know, we have bills to pay, right? And Mocha needs her fancy cat food." He shot them a playful look.

"I know, I know," MC said, laughing lightly as they moved closer, wrapping their arms around Luca’s waist. "But it’s worth it! Just picture it, babe. This little village, right in the middle of the living room, with all the lights twinkling and—"

"You mean the living room that’s already drowning in decorations?" Luca teased, though there was no real bite in his tone. He couldn’t help but smile at how enthusiastic they were.

MC grinned mischievously. "Exactly. It'll be the crown jewel."

Luca shook his head, chuckling softly. "You’re unbelievable. I swear, you could decorate for every holiday of the year and still think we’re not festive enough."

MC smirked, leaning in closer, their voice low and teasing. "Well, maybe you shouldn’t have married such a holiday fanatic then."

Luca smiled, pulling them into his arms. "Too late for that now. I’m stuck with you." He kissed their forehead, his tone gentle but full of affection. "But I still think you went overboard."

"I always go overboard," MC said, beaming up at him. "But that’s what makes it fun, right?"

"Fun... or chaos?" Luca teased, though the warmth in his eyes softened any hint of complaint. He brushed a strand of hair away from MC’s face, his fingers lingering against their cheek. "But you’re right. It’s... kind of cute. In a ‘you’re slowly taking over the house’ sort of way."

MC grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You love it."

Luca sighed dramatically, though his arms tightened around them. "Yeah, I do." He leaned down, capturing their lips in a soft, lingering kiss, the kind that made the world outside their cozy little holiday haven disappear.

When they pulled away, MC rested their head against Luca’s chest, their voice soft and teasing. "Besides, it’s not like you have any room to talk. Didn’t you insist on getting that ridiculously expensive Halloween animatronic last year?"

Luca blinked, trying and failing to come up with a comeback. "That was... for the kids."

"Uh-huh," MC smirked. "And the way you kept setting it up to scare me had nothing to do with your decision to buy it."

"Totally unrelated," Luca replied with a grin, though the slight blush creeping onto his cheeks betrayed him.

MC laughed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "See? You’re just as bad as I am."

Luca sighed, letting his head drop slightly in mock defeat. "Fine, maybe I am."

"You definitely are." MC gave him a playful poke in the ribs before moving back toward the Christmas village set, carefully pulling out each piece and setting them on the table. "Now, come on. Help me set this up. We’ve got a whole village to build."

Luca smiled fondly, watching them with soft eyes as they carefully arranged the tiny figurines. Despite the chaos, the madness, and the extreme dedication to holiday decorating, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way. The joy MC found in the holidays—and in every little thing they did together—was infectious. Even if it meant their house looked like a holiday showroom year-round.

"Okay, okay," he said, joining them at the table and starting to arrange some of the little houses. "But this is the last decoration for the year. I mean it."

MC grinned, not even bothering to hide the glint of mischief in their eyes. "We’ll see."

Luca shook his head, chuckling softly. "I knew what I was signing up for, didn’t I?"

MC shot him a triumphant look, their eyes twinkling as they repeated the words they always said when he inevitably caved to their holiday madness. "You knew what you were signing up for when you married me."

Luca leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to their lips before pulling back with a playful smile. "Yeah, I did."

(Ignore the amounts of times “You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.” Was mentioned)

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello! i saw that your requests are open so i wanted to see if you could write where the obey me brothers find out that the mischievous mc is actually really polite and distinguished? (if that makes sense)

Take your time and thank you :D

OBEY ME BOYS + mischievous reader who can act right, but only if they need to

plot: for the purposes of this request, all hcs will be set at a fancy party at the castle

Lucifer

Worried about bringing you to a premier event like this, but Lord Diavolo requested your presence

So you had to attend (under his close supervision)

He knows you won’t be as bad as his brothers, but that isn’t a very high bar

When he realizes that you are actually behaving, even thriving, in this environment he’s impress

Slightly irritated you don’t act like this all the time, but you’ll work on it

Mammon

Mammon likes to think of you as partners in crime

Playing pranks. Doing tricks. Getting into some good clean trouble.

If he’s gonna be in trouble, he’s glad he at least gets to be with you, and that you get him

When he finds out that you can actually get along with these stuffed shirts he’s a little….betrayed

He feels like maybe the fun times you had together were a lie. That you were just humoring him. Now he’s grumpy the rest of the night.

Levi

He hates being here

Him and Lucifer had a deal that he only had to come out of his room for school things, and this was not a ‘school thing’. Even if it was a school fundraising gala

He was counting on you to cause a scene and get you both kicked out so he could go home, but you’re not! You’re acting like such a…..normie!

Levi mopes for the rest of the night by the water fixture. Missing his tub.

Satan

Nervous about being here, as some of his favorite authors are attending, and desperately wants you to behave

Though he likes your jokes and teasing ways, there is a time and place for everything

A black tie event where he can shake hands with some of the greatest literary minds is not one of them

Satan follows you around most of the evening, making sure you don’t cause problems, and is pleasantly surprised by your decorum

He smiles at your ability to restrain yourself, which to him is a virtue, and finds himself loving you more

Asmo

If anyone loves a party & a good time, it’s Asmo

He can’t wait to see what you’ll be wearing, and how you’ll cut any unfashionable person to the quick

But, just like your outfit, you’re classically charming to all the guests and make the best impression

Asmo will coo at your dignified behavior. Finding a new side of you to love

He does miss the devilish way you also act though

Beel

Really only here for the free food. Beel likes parties but having to wear a suit makes him uncomfortable

At least you're there to cheer him up. He always thinks your mischievous ways are funny, and make him smile

He parks himself next to the buffet table and waits for the fun to start

When it doesn’t come, and he sees you talking to people like a charming party guest, he gets a little sad

You’d rather spend time with those people than hanging out by the dessert chocolate fountain all night? Ok….

Belphie

He really hates this

No one dislikes crowds, loud noises, or uptight social gatherings than Belphie. And he thought you were the same.

He thought that your devious behavior at school meant that you were alike in your hatred of the establishment. Kindred spirits.

Seeing you talk and laugh with these….fools made his blood boil

So he spilled off when no one was looking (no one ever paid attention to him anyway) to sulk and eventually fall asleep in the garden

[kitkatlover015]

Name: Isabella

Age: minor (15-17)

Favorite colors: black and green.

Favorite songs:

Favorite animal: cats!!

Rules for my blog!

Please don’t message me if you’re older than 19(moots can be any age) (unless you want pictures of cats. Then anyone is welcome)

Dni if you want to start fights or have hateful comments.

This

Ummm. More to be added in the future?

Things idk where to put:

Valid reasons to hate kosa

What on earth????

Joy

More joy

I’m open to new friends! Please don’t hesitate to come into my askbox!

I’m a Christian! Currently listening to:

And reading John!

I’m a self shipper.

I like making digital art! Some of my things are here. (Shoot me an ask if you want me to try making something for you! I can’t do buildings or man made objects yet tho!)

I make ocs and MCs for the fandoms that I’m in. (Note: I’m not in some of them anymore. At all. I just wanted to keep the characters lol.)

My current blorbo/ FO; undertaker from black butler.

Currently watching: spy x family, demon slayer(completed), and angels of death.

Currently playing: township, Obey Me! Shall we date, and honey magazine.

💚.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Divider credits: @alphakittyyyyy @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @gigittamic

[libellule-ao3]

Lullaby for Cursed Seeds 🔞

Rating: 🔞 | 7 450 words approx. | angst & hurt/comfort | Romance | Strangers to lovers | resilience | Progressive development of a relationship | Alternating POV between Ominis and Evelyne

Ominis/F!MC | Ominis & Sebastian friendship | Sebastian/F!Player Character (background)

⚠️: graphic depictions of violence (Various physical, psychological and emotional abuse + canon typical violence)

Summary: Ominis Gaunt, the pure-blood wizard, struggles to thrive in the stifling shadow of his family manor. A prisoner of a heritage he rejects.

Evelyne Lavandin, on the other hand, is a precocious Muggle-born witch who has been uprooted since people greedy for power and money tore her away from her family.

Two characters and two solitudes separated by everything. And yet, who still believes that encounters are the fruit of chance?

A/N: The lullaby used for this fic is the Brahms’ Lullaby (German composer) performed for the first time in public on 22 December 1869 in Vienna. Youtube link

The "new friend" mentioned corresponds to the F!player character. I'm deliberately leaving it anonymous so that you can imagine your own. 😊

Extract:

The sky is dark, as usual, over the manor house of the illustrious Gaunt family. Black clouds are gathering and weighing down its inhabitants with the sinister weight of Salazar Slytherin’s legacy, of which the Gaunts are the proud direct descendants.

No one would be foolish enough to defy such a pure heritage, preserved by centuries of proud tradition and inbreeding.

In this case, Ominis Gaunt, a boy who looks like a fallen angel with his blond hair and big blind eyes reflecting the sorrow of a flayed innocence, is no longer sane. He refuses to acquire and practise this cursed magic that eternally tarnishes souls, both those of its summoner and those of its victims. In retaliation, his father turns his siblings into executioners and condemns him to suffer the horrible pain he refuses to inflict on this terrified Muggle commoner who has done nothing to him.

The unforgivable Cruciatus Curse.

A thousand white-hot blades pierce his whole being and make his heart explode in his chest, inflicting more pain than his little body can contain. Intolerable suffering! Ominis is in so much misery that he’d rather die than endure any more! So, when the pain has subsided and his tears have dried up, Ominis Gaunt has only enough strength left for one thing: surrender.

He tries everything he can to escape the harm he is causing: he plugs his ears, turns off the echolocation spell of his precious wand and, although he is blind, he closes his eyes anyway. Even his mind tries to flee this cursed place where contempt and sadism reign, to slip into the shelter of a persistent inner light. In vain. Every scream of his victim travels through his body, through his bones, to tear at his soul, instilling the poison of self-doubt and self-hatred. And all the while, his father’s imposing hand strokes his hair as he would stroke the head of an obedient dog.

“There you are, a real Gaunt, son.”

[kercsene]

( clayton cardenas, cis man, he/him ) SANTIAGO LÓPEZ : the FORTY year old resident that's been around the SEA CLIFF MARINA RAIDERS for TWO DAYS. when the infected swarmed the streets the first night, SANTI really proved how DEDICATED + LOYAL they were. however, many would argue that they can also be quite CALLOUS + CYNICAL. five years has passed since their old life ended and the new one began, developing skills that have helped them become a RAIDER within their group. it makes sense to see them thriving at the job because of their TRACKING SKILLS & KNIFE.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

NAME: santiago emiliano lópez.

NICKNAME(S): santi.

BIRTHPLACE: dallas, texas.

LOCATION BEFORE: dallas, texas.

OCCUPATION BEFORE: mechanic & mc member.

AGE: forty.

GENDER IDENTITY: cis man.

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL ORIENTATION: biromantic, bisexual.

CURRENT LOCATION: sea cliff marina.

TIME AT CURRENT LOCATION: two days.

CURRENT JOB: raider (in training).

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒.

FATHER: emiliano alejandro lópez ( died in 2022 )

MOTHER: daniela maria lópez ( died in 2024 )

BROTHER: luis antonio lópez ( died in 2020 )

SISTERS: carmen daniela lópez ( died in 2025 ) & mariana sofia lópez

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋.

HEIGHT: 6 foot & 2 inches.

EYE COLOR: brown

HAIR COLOR: black with some grey

TATTOOS: TBD.

SCARS: TBD.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.

POSITIVE TRAITS: dedicated, loyal

NEGATIVE TRAITS: callous, cynical

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic neutral

LIKES: TBD.

DISLIKES: TBD.

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄.

born in 1989 to emiliano alejandro lópez and daniela maria lópez, née garcia, santiago was the eldest of four. his brother, luis antonio lópez, died in 2020 from brain cancer and his sister, carmen daniela lópez died one year after the wildfire virus spread. both deaths weighed heavily on santi, who was always close with his family.

the lópez were poor but always made the best of it, both parents working two jobs to provide for their family and santi started to work to help as soon as he could. santiago has always been very protective of his family and it was well known that anyone who messed with his siblings would see him come defend them.

santi has always been more street smart than book smart and he barely graduated high school. studies were for his siblings, not him, and it was almost a miracle he had a diploma, considering how often he skipped classes. his mother wanted to see all of her children graduate and it's the only reason santi did it.

as soon as high school was over, he started to work full time as a mechanic, at the same place he had been working part time for a while. santi had been working on his bike since he got it at 16.

santi always had a soft spot for the sister of his best friend and as they both entered adulthood, he realized that what he felt went beyond friendly feelings and for a time, he cleaned up his act for andrea. she was there for him when his brother died and for a while, their relationship was the best thing in his life and santi worshiped the ground andy walked on.

thing started to turn sour when he got in deeper with some of his friends, andrea's brother included. santi was slowly turning to the life of a criminal, wearing the patches of a motorcycle club. the weight and stress of it all changed him and santi started to pull away from andrea, both in an attempt to protect her and because he was starting to hate the man he was becoming.

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑.

as soon as things starting to go south, santiago urged andrea to leave the city with him. crowded places were becoming too dangerous. getting both of his sisters and andrea to safety was the only thing that mattered to him. he had no real plan, no real connections that could help them, it was only survival from then on.

when his sister died one year into the so called end of the world, it broke something in him. it was like the little hope he had left that things could get better vanished entirely. he hadn't been able to protect her and santi once again felt worthless. they went from groups to groups, never settling anywhere long enough to set real roots, if such a thing was still possible.

then the worst happened, the group was attacked and andrea and him were separated. santi was a shit boyfriend, but he loved her and for so long, he looked for her. it was only about six months ago that he stopped doing so. maybe it was easier to think she was dead than the alternative, that she was still out there but without him. he had failed her, had started to do so years ago.

a chance encounters had him and the few of his group being recruited to the sea cliff marina. he was hurt, his groups was starving, there was no other real choices. he never expected to see andrea again but it seemed that life had other plans for him.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

ANDREA ROMERO. his ex-girlfriend and the one he thought was the love of his life, even if he didn't think he was worthy of her. the two got separated years ago after an attack on their group and after looking for her for two years, santi thought she was dead. the feelings he had for her never entirely died.

MARIANA LÓPEZ. the only family member he still has and one he'd do anything to protect. santi has always been there for his siblings and he has grown even more protective as he lost everyone else but her.

NEW PROMISES. it started when he still had hopes that andrea was alive, while he was still looking for her. it was nothing more than sex, the relief and tenderness he needed. it wasn't supposed to mean anything but it's not so clear anymore and while santi cares for them, he can't bring himself to love again.

RIGHT HAND. being some sort of leader for his small group was never the plan but against all odds, people started to look up to him, to the way he didn't shy from the hard choices that had to be made for their survival. next to his sister, this is the person he trust the most.

[missseraphina]

Oh, is that SERAPHINA 'SERA' MONTGOMERY? I heard the TWENTY EIGHT year old is RESOURCEFUL. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also DECEPTIVE. Makes sense seeing how they are a MEMBER in the GHOST RIDERS MC. 

PINTEREST |

NAME: Seraphina "Sera" Montgomery

AGE: 28

DOB: 4th March

HOME: Manhattan NYC

OCCUPATION: Member of the Ghost Riders MC and owner of Seduction Strip Club

GENDER: Cis woman

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

- 𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈

THEME SONG: Look what you made me do by Taylor Swift

POSITIVE TRAITS: Resourceful, Independent, Charismatic, Resilient, Determined

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Entitled, Manipulative, Deceitful, Reckless, Deceptive

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral

MBTI: ESTP

DEADLY SIN: Greed

HEAVENLY VIRTUE: Diligence

LABEL: The Rebel

CHARACTER PARALLELS: Blair Waldorf (gossip girl), Veronica Lodge (riverdale), Holly Golightly (breakfast at tiffany's), Scarlett O'Hara (gone with the wind)

- 𝙱𝙸𝙾

Seraphina was born into a life of privilege and crime, her family being key players in the society meant she was born and raised for gang life. Raised with wealth and connections, she was never required to work hard for anything, leading to a sense of entitlement and a lack of real-world skills. Despite her lifestyle, she was pushed into the gang's activities at a young age, taking on minor roles like lookout to decide if she was ready for more. However, her disinterest and incompetence often led to costly mistakes, resulting in arrests and failures.

After numerous screw-ups, her family finally had enough. They cut her off both financially and from the gang, leaving her to fend for herself. In a final act of rebellion before being disowned, Seraphina stole a significant amount of money from her family. Using this stolen fortune, she purchased a strip club, a move that allowed her to leverage her way into the Ghost Riders MC. Her new life as a Ghost Rider allowed her to explore her rebellious streak more and meant that she didn't have to be as micromanaged as she was in the society.

Seraphina is in what she considers her "rebel era." The loss of her family's support and wealth has left her angry and resentful, leading her to embrace a more reckless way of living. She often acts out, pushing boundaries and seeking thrills as a way to cope with no longer being treated like a princess.

While she may have been spoiled and incompetent in her earlier life, during her time with the Ghost Riders has forced her to develop a certain level of street smarts. She's learned to navigate the rougher aspects of her new world, using her connections, charm, and cunning to survive and thrive in her own way.

HEADCANONS:

her general wardrobe consists of leather and lace a mixture of her two worlds. Main colours are red, pink, black and white.

she doesn't speak about her life in the society even though everybody who was in the gang at the time will remember her being in it