#can’t even promise I won’t delve into it again

[wanderingblindly]

Your landoscar omegaverse fics are the best, thank you for blessing the 814 nation with them🙏🙏

Omg thank you so much!!!!!!!! I really had a lot of fun writing both of them, though it does shame me to realize I have…. More than one.

How did we get here.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 1

Rhiana is your dear friend who lives just out of town in a cozy cottage in the forest. You met while shopping. You two talk about the different spices she suggests to flavor meat and veggies. It leads you to a fast but close friendship with Rhiana, close enough that it becomes a usual event to visit her monthly while you’re in the area. Whether it’s shopping, karaoke, or just coffee date hangouts there is one thing that comes up a lot.

“Rhiana you’re so pretty.”

“Aw (Y/n) thank you!”

“Seriously though you’re like a painting. I still can’t believe you don’t model.”

“Honestly (Y/n) you’re such a charmer!”

Your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t do anything for a nightly routine or facials or specific remedies to look how she does. Seeing her when you do it seems like the scale of her looks ranges from glowing to immaculate. It certainly makes getting free stuff with her much easier. She just will credit one thing to her looks and even then she doesn’t talk about it much.

“Maybe it’s what I eat…I have been eating more meat, lately.”

But your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t explain anymore, usually going on a tangent about how she can season her meat. She’ll refuse to tell you just how stringent her beauty is on her carnivorous diet. Because on top of being a good friend to you, she is a Witch. Specifically, the kind that maintains her health and youth by devouring the souls and bodies of human beings. She usually prefers eating children but since she’s met you she’s decided to reign it in.

“What if me and (Y/n) had a baby? Hehe, I can’t believe it’s making me blush so much.”

“Aaaaahh please let me go home!!! I promise not to tell!”

“Hmmmm maybe we’ll have 3…or 5 or 10. They won’t be allowed to leave if we have that many right?”

Rhiana the Witch has been doing this for hundreds of years and she’s had her fair share of lovers and harems. But she’s never found out about someone so early in advance. When she was much younger much dumber of 113  she’d seen a vision featuring you, of course at the time she didn’t know. Nor was she aware just how much seeing the future you had awakened something in her. Now she’s well in her 600s and she realizes how all of her flings in the past have features of yours or they speak like you. Or how her familiars mirror different aspects of your personality and as she delves into her past she realizes how all her life she’s been building up to be with you.

“(Y/n) is my….special person….their mine. All Mine!”

Now on top of feeding her voracious appetite, she’s trying to gain your affections so that she has your consent to make you immortal like she. If you might think it’s because she respects boundaries, then you’d be wrong. The potion she’s perfected over centuries only works if you give your express consent, with as little pressure as possible. So she’s refrained from drugging you on her many outings with you…for now. 

If I wanted to I could sprinkle a light aphrodisiac dust into the food they just keep shoveling into their mouth.

“But then I–HACK—*cough cough*”

“Hon, maybe don’t talk while you’re eating.”

“Right! So as I was saying–”

But Elements do I adore just watching them eat so happily.

She feels like a hapless teen all over again as her stomach flips and turns the more time she spends with you. No longer can she get a wink of her enchanted eyes and some choice sugar-coated words to get you exactly where she wants you. She has to try with you and she’s never wanted to do so more than with you. She’s even begun to tailor her meals with the ones that seem to bother you most. It’s risky but the satisfaction of a full tummy while she reads your letter about the creepy vendor finally stopping their emails makes her happy. 

“That is convenient.”

“I know. It’s not right to celebrate anyone going missing—”

“But it doesn’t take away from the harm they’ve done. Don’t feel bad hon it’s probably just an extended trip somewhere to the underworld.”

She thinks about how she’ll hide her rejuvenating diet when she finally gets you closer to her. You might not notice when she uses magic but you're not an idiot; you’d figure it out eventually. Not to mention the added trouble of her familiar’s growing interest and past suitors budding their noses in her business with you. She’s got a lot of work on her hands—and not a lot of time.

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t I come visit you every once in a while? Two days a month just isn’t enough time to make you fall in hopeless love with me+. What do say to me spending a night or two at yours?”

She's giving the former mc going for the side character reader Debating about a part 2 🖤🖤🖤🖤

I did it! Part 2: Here 🖤🖤🖤

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

On Their Lap

Requested: Yes [hi:33 I love your writing!!! Can I please get the 141 with fem!reader teasing them in public by moving around their lap??]

Warnings: Fem!Reader, public groping

It wasn’t on purpose at first. Your lover always liked it when you sat in his lap, safe in his arms. Didn’t matter where in public you were, they’d get pouty if you took a seat anywhere else. So his lap it was. Only it could get a bit…uncomfy. So sometimes you had to shift around a bit. It was no big deal, you wiggled a bit, found a good placement, and then you were done. Except today you just couldn’t find that spot, no matter how much you writhed, oblivious to your lover’s predicament, their arms tightening around you rapidly.

Price

“Best stop that now, Poppet. Won’t be able to control myself much longer.” Price whispered to you, a hand coming up to cup one of your breasts, fondling it when he was sure no one was looking. “See? Not nice being teased, is it?” He chuckles when you whimper, rutting himself against your ass. “Feel what you do to me? It’s all for you, Love.”

Gaz

Gaz’s forehead rested against the back of your neck, his face warm, almost burning as he speaks to you. “Can’t be doin that in public, Love. You’re getting me all worked up. Unless you wanna go out back and take care of it? You did cause it, after all.” Gaz hummed, big hands spreading your thighs wide over his, keeping you open so one of his hands could delve between your legs, rubbing you through your underwear.

Ghost

Ghost places one of his hands on your knee, squeezing it firmly. If you listened closely, you’d be able to tell that his breathing was a bit heavier than normal. “Stay still, Love. Stop movin around.” He tells you, voice husky against your ear, strained from trying to keep himself calm in public. “Unless ya want me to bend you over the bar, right here, right now? I don’t have a problem with it.”

Soap

Soap groans behind you, hands moving to your hips, gripping tight. “Stop teasin’ me, Hen. S’not polite. Especially when we’re in public.” He mumbles, a growl catching in his throat when you roll your hips again, this time on purpose. “I will toss you in the car right now, I promise ya. Won’t even be able to make it home before we start going at it like rabbits.”

Alejandro

Alejandro hums, deep and rumbly, the vibrations from it running along your back and making you shiver. “I’d that how we’re playing it tonight, Amor? Here? In front of everyone?” He asks, pulling the shell of your ear between his teeth and giving it a playful tug before letting it go and licking it. “I don’t mind. Do you think you can keep quiet enough though? I doubt it.”

[awakenedsalamander]

This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.

In a lot of Chronicles of Darkness games, there are “minor templates” for players to take for their characters. These are basically lesser types of supernatural beings— undeniably marked by magic, but not transformed by it like the main templates are. So instead of being a werewolf, you might be a Wolf-Blooded, i.e., not the monster your stronger cousins are, but still recognizably having a connection to that world.

Again, a bunch of games have these. Mage has Sleepwalkers (and Proximi), Vampire has ghouls, Geist has the Absent, Demon has stigmatics, etc.

In Changeling: The Lost, there are the Fae-Touched. We’ll get to them in a bit. First, more on Lost.

In Lost, like many stories about faeries, oaths and vows are very important. They are, in the form of magical Contracts, the source of many fae powers. Changeling have a neat ability to make any spoken promise binding, invoking the force of the Wyrd to force even minor vows to be taken seriously. And many changelings are taken by the True Fae by getting ensnared in some kind of oath.

See, if you didn’t know, Changeling: The Lost is about humans taken to the home of the True Fae, and then transformed into changelings as the True Fae torment them. The game is very much about the way trauma changes a person, and how even recovering from trauma still doesn’t bring you back to the way you were— you’re healed, but you’re not the same.

And much like trauma changes a person, it isolates them too. Lost represents this in the fiction with fetches— the faerie-forged simulacra left behind in the stolen person’s wake, acting the roles of parent, sibling, friend, and so on while the original person is actually suffering with no escape.

But the Fae-Touched won’t stand for that.

Because while Changeling: The Lost recognizes that many promises aren’t serious, that when people swear, “I’ll always be there for you,” they don’t always live up to that, it also recognizes that some promises are different.

The Fae-Touched are the mortals who remember the words they swore, and will not ignore them. They can tell, in their dreams, through the nagging impulses they get in their waking moments, that the person they promised to help needs them now more than ever. They are lead by the Wyrd into the land of faerie to live up to that promise, and they follow it gladly.

A Fae-Touched is the father who knows the smiling fetch who claims to be his daughter isn’t the real thing, and that somewhere the girl he swore to protect is in mortal danger— and so he delves into a world of dreams and nightmares to bring her back.

A Fae-Touched is the woman who fights off briar wolves in a mad, twisting forest so she can find her wife, because when she said “I will never abandon you,” she meant it.

A Fae-Touched is the young man staring down a Lord of the True Fae and refusing to yield. He and his brother went through hell together years ago when their parents died, and they promised one another then that they’d always stand by each other, and some monster in a crown can’t change that.

Not every changeling is helped by a Fae-Touched, and not all of the Fae-Touched succeed. Sometimes you have to claw your own way back home. But God, what a beautiful concept.

I know that Changeling: The Lost is very dark, and the reason I love the Fae-Touched isn’t really because they’re the light to that darkness— I think that simplifies it too much.

I like the Fae-Touched not because they take away the darkness, but because they remind me we don’t always have to face the darkness alone.

Sometimes, when you think there’s no point going on, when you think it will just be the pain and the fear again and again and again… it’s not true. Because sometimes, maybe even more often than we think, there’s someone out there who knows you need help. And they ready themselves, they set out into the darkness, saying only,

“This is gonna be a long walk. But I’ll get there. I promise.”

[forlorn-crows]

mountain sitting on dews face

what r ur thots 👁👁

oh i have thots 👀

how about a lil modified 69 with these silly horny guys?

Mountain’s balls draw up for about the third time since he sat his ass on Dew’s face. He can’t help it, though, not really. Not when that hot mouth suctions to his rim and his delightfully wet tongue delves unnaturally far inside. 

His dick twitches, sending another drop of precum onto Dew’s clavicle. “Shit, sometimes I think just your tongue could make me cum,” he groans. 

Dew pulls away and grips his asscheeks hard. “It has, big guy.” The smirk in his voice is obvious, even when Mountain’s facing away from him.

“Ugh, I meant right now, asshole.”

“I’m already in—”

Dew squeaks as Mountain grabs hold of his little dick and squeezes. It drools a fat glob of precum onto his knuckles, pearly and thick. He kicks his feet against the blankets with an undignified whine.

Mountain just sighs. Strokes his thumb through the mess he’s already made. “Fuck, why’re you so cute.”

“You are suffocating my di-i-ick fucking fucker—” he wheezes. That thumb presses further into his slit, pushing down the sensitive foreskin and rubbing over the width of the head. Mountain’s slow and antagonizing with it, doing it over and over until Dew groans bodily, right into his hole. 

“Oh, Belial, do that again,” he gasps, mercifully releasing his dick. 

“How ‘bout you ask me nicely.”

Mountain scoffs. “Pleeaase moan into my ass again?”

“Uh uh. Try again,” he teases, spitting straight up into his hole and rubbing over it with the pad of his finger. 

“F-fuck—” 

“Come on, Mount, why don’t you kiss it a little? Where’s that sweet-talk, hm?” Dew rolls his hips to bounce his cock in the earth ghoul’s face where he’s crumbled to his elbows. 

He can’t help the whimper that falls from his lips. “Please. Wanna feel it,” he starts, genuine this time and much more needy. 

“I’m listening.” Dew’s tone gets softer too. He swirls around his hole, watches it clench. 

Mountain’s gasp fans hot over the head of Dew’s cock. “Gonna make you feel good so you moan and groan right into me.” He noses down the wet length and presses a kiss to the base. “Kiss you all sloppy here,” he mumbles. 

“Shit, yeah?”

“Uh huh.” His lips wrap around the side of his shaft, as promised, tongue darting out to lick at the veins. Mixing saliva into the streaks of slick. 

“Hnf, like that.” He bucks into it, balls bumping into the side of Mountain’s chin. “Fuck, sit down.” Dew digs his claws into his boney hips and forces him back onto his face, squarely onto his waiting tongue. Burying his nose between his cheeks. 

Mountain whimpers. He grips the inside of Dew’s thighs and spreads them open. Migrating from the side of his cock to swallow the whole thing down in one go.

“Ffuuu,” Dew moans right where it counts. The earth ghoul can only respond with a dumb, gurgled sound. It’s a vicious echo chamber of cause and effect, each of their actions spurring on the other in a self-imploding horny cycle. It only takes a few more minutes of impassioned attention to Mountain’s hole to get him close again, balls drawing up and mouth dragging down Dew’s dick until he’s panting into his taint. Mushy-brained and fumbling for words.

“Gonna—D-Dew,” he struggles, thighs crushing into the smaller ghoul’s ribs. Dew presses that spot inside him again—with only his tongue, how is that only his tongue?—and Mountain wheezes. His cock bobs back and forth between his stomach and Dew’s chest, splattering them both with precum that just won’t stop. 

Something that sounds vaguely like uh huh come on vibrates through his core, and that vocalization is what sends him over the edge, shooting onto the fire ghoul’s chest with a surprised shout. 

“Sh-h-hit,” he hisses against Dew’s skin, nose pressing tight to his little balls until he whimpers too. Mountain twitches through shudder after shudder. He’s pretty sure he’s drooling on Dew, but his brain’s too empty to care. 

“That’s it,” the fire ghoul coos, regaining his composure (and the upper hand). He rubs Mountain’s backside as he slowly goes limp, the bigger ghoul groaning louder when his cock finally makes contact with his own mess and grants him one last jolt of pleasure. Dew presses a kiss to his hole, tutting when it clenches. “Such a sensitive guy, aren’t you?”

Mountain gurgles something unintelligible. 

“Yeah you are.” Sadist that he is, Dew slips his pinky into that puffy, spit-coated hole, prodding until he hits the spot. Wringing a breathy, feminine moan from Mountain that he’d surely be embarrassed about, if it weren’t for all of his self-consciousness shooting out of his dick along with his load. 

He tuts again. “Be a fuckin’ shame to waste this nice wet ass, wouldn’t it?”

Mountain chirps, a questioning noise that’s almost comical, like a single question mark popping up above  his head. 

Dew smacks his ass. “Shove up, big boy, it’s my dick’s turn to be inside that tight hole.”

[kingkatsuki]

Got me thinking of Bakugou spanking the brat out of us now for our tweets. 🥵

Imagine he’s just spent the better part of his day getting an earful off his PR team when they’ve pulled him up on yet another one of your tweets. Trying to demand they gain access to your account too so they can monitor your activity, which Bakugou knows there’s no chance in hell will ever happen.

And dutifully he calls you again, asking you to delete the tweet because he’s got his head of PR nagging him, and he gets enough of that off you when he’s home. But of course you don’t, why would you when you speak nothing but the truth? And the world needs to know about just how peachy Dynamight’s ass is

“If they didn’t then why are your pants so tight, Katsuki? I’m the spokesman for the people”

He spends the rest of his day in a meeting, talking about the next brand endorsements for Dynamight to try and avoid anymore unsavoury behaviour (even though his rank has jumped up because of your tweets) and they sign him up for a Pro-Hero charity gala (that he definitely did not want to go to, and that he is definitely dragging your ass to).

So by the time he gets home he’s heated, carding his fingers through his messy hair as he kicks his shoes off by the door. Trudging into the house as he finds you lounging on the couch without a care in the world, grinning at him over the back of it while holding your phone in the air “Hey, baby! How was your day?”

And it’s a matter of seconds before you’re being manhandled over his lap with your shorts being tugged up, keeping them in the crease of your ass as he lands a warm, hard smack against your rear.

“Didn’t I tell ya I’d smack the brat out of ya, sweetheart?”

And you can’t deny this is exactly what you were hoping for, your cunt tingling in anticipation as you deliberately wiggle your hips on top of him. Feeling his semi-hard cock prodding against your thighs as you tempt him to give you another hit.

“You’ll just give me more to tweet about, Dynamight.” You smirk over your shoulder at him as he lands another smack, this time the sharp crackle of his quirk makes contact with your skin. Leaving a pleasurable tingle to the surface as you keen.

“You won’t even be able to think about tweetin’ when I’m finished with ya, shitty woman.” His warm palm smoothed over the blooming mark against your cheek as his fingers delved between your thighs to press against your clothed cut.

“Is that a promise?” You sassed before receiving another harsh smack in response.

[butchyeons]

break me apart, put me together again

2yeon first time trying petplay… yay

read on ao3

warnings/tags: puppy play, mommy kink, light bdsm, sex toys, riding crop, spanking, collars, rope, anal plug, degradation, edging, orgasm denial, aftercare

i <3 puppy jeongyeon ok anyways. hope you enjoy!!

minors dni!

———

It all started because Nayeon lost her laptop charger. Again.

She needed to get some important documents sent to Mina as soon as possible, but with no laptop charger and a dead laptop, she was… well, screwed.

She groaned as she dug through her and Jeongyeon’s bedroom, turning over everything in her path for her charger- but no dice. The charger was gone, meaning she either left it at her now closed office, or over at Momo’s place.

Just great.

Jeongyeon was taking a shower, finally away from her work desk. Nayeon sees this as the perfect opportunity to get the documents over to Mina. She pads over to the bathroom, knocking on the door before peaking her head in.

“Baby, I can’t find my laptop charger.” She says, a bit loud so Jeongyeon can hear her over the water. “I need to use your computer really quick.”

Jeongyeon pokes her head out from behind the shower curtain, an annoyed expression painting her face.

“Again? Nayeon, this is like the third time this month.” Jeongyeon says, her tone not having any real bite.

“I’m sorry. It’s either at the office or at Momo’s. But I promise I’ll be quick!”

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, reaching up to push a wet strand of hair out of her face.

“Yah, just don’t mess with anything I have open. I’m working on a new song, and I don’t want to lose my progress.” She says, disappearing back into the shower.

“I won’t, baby! Just logging into my work cloud. Thank you, love you!” Nayeon says quickly, closing the door.

Nayeon quickly heads down the hallway and into Jeongyeon’s office, taking a seat at her girlfriend’s computer. She quickly swipes the mouse, getting rid of the screensaver- a lovely picture of the two of them on vacation in Jeju- and moves to go open a new tab to open her office cloud.

But that’s when she notices the open incognito tab.

Nayeon quirks an eyebrow. She’s never really been one to pry into Jeongyeon’s business- she trusts her fully, she had no need to go snooping. But she can’t help but be curious. She pauses, listening to make sure the shower water is still running- it is- before clicking to open the tab.

What she sees makes her cheeks burn.

Jeongyeon was looking at… collars. Leashes. Dog ears. On a sex shop website.

Jeongyeon had never mentioned it to her before, much less even implied it. She was almost always the dominant one of the two, but their sex life was… more on the vanilla side comparatively. They had a few toys that they loved to use, but it never delved into… that. Not that Nayeon had a problem with it- Jeongyeon took very good care of her and her needs- this was just new.

Before Nayeon lets herself wander any further, she hears the shower cut off. Quickly she goes back to the regular tabs, opening her work cloud to access the documents she had to get sent over to Mina.

Right as she presses the send button on her email, she hears Jeongyeon emerge from the bathroom, humming. She stands up from the computer, her mind still stuck on what she saw, and walks out into the hallway. Jeongyeon pokes her head out from their bedroom, her wet hair clinging to her forehead, cheeks red from the heat of the shower.

“Did you get what you needed to do done?” Jeongyeon asks.

Nayeon nods. Her heart swells just a bit at the sight of her girlfriend.

“Yep. Problem fixed.” She replies.

The real problem now was how she couldn’t get her mind off of what she saw.

“Good!” Jeongyeon says, turning back to head into the bedroom, leaving Nayeon alone with her thoughts.

The images her mind was conjuring up at that moment left her feeling a bit breathless. She was used to Jeongyeon dominating her but not like… that. She didn’t exactly know how she felt about it- but she would be willing to try anything once, especially for Jeongyeon. She nervously stood, staring down at the wood floor, wanting to say something, anything-

“You better not have messed up anything I was working on!” Jeongyeon calls out, bringing Nayeon back to reality.

“I didn’t, I swear!” Nayeon yells back.

Instead of continuing to awkwardly stand in the hallway, she heads to the living room. She plops herself down on the couch with a sigh, still thinking about it.

She picked up her phone, looking over her shoulder quickly, before looking up the website Jeongyeon had been on. Nayeon couldn’t help but blush as she looked through everything, the options seemingly endless. She wasn’t entirely opposed to trying out whatever this was, feeling a bit excited at the thought of what Jeongyeon wanted to do to her.

Surely she would find the right opportunity to bring it up.

———

The two of them laid together, Nayeon’s back pressed against Jeongyeon’s front, both exhausted after a long day. Both of them were half asleep, as it was nearly midnight. As they laid there silently, just enjoying one another’s presence before drifting off to sleep, Nayeon couldn’t help but think about the thing again. It had been around a week since she saw what Jeongyeon had open on her computer, and she really couldn’t seem to let it go.

She felt like it was now or never.

“Hey, Jeong… can I ask you something?” She whispered. “Nothing bad.”

Jeongyeon hummed, shifting a bit.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Nayeon gulped, gathering all of the courage she had in her.

“Well it’s just… the other day when I used your computer, I accidentally saw something.”

Jeongyeon’s breath hitched.

“Yeah?” She asked, clearly nervous.

Nayeon rolled over to face the other girl, her expression soft. She didn’t want to scare Jeongyeon off.

“I saw… a website. And you were looking at… collars, leashes. Other toys.” Nayeon said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Jeongyeon gulped and nodded, her cheeks turning red. She looked away.

“Yeah…”

Nayeon smiled, reaching her hand up to push a dark strand of hair behind the blushing girl’s ear.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind trying it.”

Jeongyeon looked back at her girlfriend, locking eyes with Nayeon for a moment before her eyes shifted down to the bed. Jeongyeon pursed her lips.

“No, Nay… I…” She closed her eyes, exhaling. “It’s not for you. It’s… It’s for me.”

Oh.

Well that was certainly not what Nayeon expected.

“For you?” Nayeon asked, trying to get a better understanding.

Jeongyeon nodded, her eyes still closed. Her cheeks were bright red.

“For me. I… I want… Y’know. I want to be the one…” She sighed. “On the leash.”

Oh!

Nayeon really didn’t know what to say. She nodded, propping herself up on one arm so that she was looking down at Jeongyeon. The younger girl’s eyes were still closed, her expression clearly embarrassed. Nayeon reached down to cup her cheek, her thumb stroking back and forth soothingly.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, baby.” She said gently.

Jeongyeon finally looked up, her big, brown eyes full of worry. She looked like she had just been caught stealing, her bottom lip poking out slightly.

“I’m willing to try whatever you want to try, Jeongyeon.” Nayeon whispered down at her, a gentle smile on her face.

Jeongyeon nodded, still frowning a bit, but her worried expression melting.

“I just don’t want it to be weird… You don’t think it’s weird, right?” She asked.

Nayeon just shook her head, leaning down to press a kiss to her girlfriend’s forehead.

“Of course I don’t.” Nayeon replied, her lips brushing against Jeongyeon’s skin. “I want to make you feel just as good as you make me feel. If you want to try it, then we can try it.”

Jeongyeon made a small noise. She reached up and pulled Nayeon down into a hug, Nayeon’s face pressed into the front of her neck. Nayeon couldn’t help but giggle, pressing another kiss against Jeongyeon’s throat as the younger girl squeezed her tightly.

“Thank you, Nayeonie.” Jeongyeon whispered, her chin resting against the top of Nayeon’s head.

Nayeon hummed, smiling as she pressed herself impossibly closer to her girlfriend.

“Of course, baby. We can try whenever you’re ready.”

��——

And that’s how Nayeon found herself clipping a collar around Jeongyeon’s neck. She stepped out from behind her girlfriend, circling around her to get a better look at her. Nayeon couldn’t help but smirk at the sight in front of her- a black leather collar around Jeongyeon’s neck, tight enough to dig in to her tanned skin slightly, with a cute pair of black puppy ears sitting atop of her tussled hair. Jeongyeon was already completely naked, but Nayeon was still partially clothed- choosing to wear her favorite set of lingerie, a matching lacy baby blue bra and underwear, connected by a sheer piece of matching fabric that Jeongyeon had gotten her for her birthday years ago.

Nayeon couldn’t help but think that she could get used to the sight in front of her.

They had already discussed Jeongyeon’s wants and limits at length beforehand. Ever the over-prepared type, Nayeon even went as far as to watch videos, to learn more about what exactly Jeongyeon was asking for. Nayeon was fully aware this wasn’t about her at all- but she had a clear role and a duty to fulfill, and she’d make damn sure Jeongyeon was taken care of. Nayeon needed to ruin her- not for her own sake, but for the sake of the nervous girl now standing in front of her.

Jeongyeon’s eyes focused on the floor between both of them, her expression worried. She fidgeted nervously with her hands, her shoulders tensed. Nayeon reached a hand out, lifting Jeongyeon’s chin, making them lock eyes.

“You remember your safe word?” Nayeon asked.

Jeongyeon nodded.

“Signal.”

Nayeon chucked a bit, amused by the fact that Jeongyeon chose to use the name of her record studio as the safe word. How very Yoo Jeongyeon of her.

“Good girl.” Nayeon said, making the other girl blush. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Get on the bed. I have other surprises for you.”

Jeongyeon nodded, doing exactly as she was told, climbing onto the bed. She relaxed against the headboard, watching Nayeon curiously. Nayeon turned and walked over to the closet, kneeling down to pull out a box she had secretly been hiding. She looked back over her shoulder, seeing Jeongyeon still watching.

“Good puppies don’t peak.” Nayeon said, causing Jeongyeon to look away.

Nayeon chuckled softly, going back to what she was doing. She pulled out some of the new toys she had bought- some rope, a bottle of lube, and the most fun of all, a vibrating plug. There were other toys in the box- but those would be saved for another time. She walked back over to the bedside, setting them on the nightstand. She bent down to open the drawer, pulling out the wand that Jeongyeon loved to use on her, placing it among the other toys. She smirked, finally getting on the bed, the rope in her hands. She reached over and gripped Jeongyeon’s chin, forcing the other girl to look up at her.

“You’ve been a bad puppy, Jeongyeon.” Nayeon whispered, her voice laced with lust. “And bad puppies get punished, isn’t that right?”

Jeongyeon just nodded dumbly, her eyes already unfocused. Nayeon smirked, her grip on the younger girl’s chin tightening.

“Use your words, pup.”

Jeongyeon gulped.

“Y-Yes, mommy.” She replied, her voice soft, hesitant.

Nayeon leaned in, quickly pressing a kiss to Jeongyeon’s cheek.

“If it’s too much, use the safe word, and we’ll stop immediately.” She reminded.

Jeongyeon nodded.

“I know. I trust you.” She whispered. “I want this so bad. Please, Nayeon.”

With that, Nayeon leaned back. She grabbed the rope, showing it to Jeongyeon, who just nodded weakly.

“Hands up.” Nayeon commanded.

Jeongyeon complied immediately, her hands reaching up above her head. Nayeon crawled over, sitting in Jeongyeon’s lap, straddling her hips. She reached up and tied the rope around Jeongyeon’s wrists, tight enough so that it indented into her skin, but not cut off the circulation.

As she was tying, she didn’t realize that her chest was directly in front of Jeongyeon’s face. And Jeongyeon, being Jeongyeon, took the opportunity to lean up, biting at the exposed skin of the top of one of her breasts, right above where her bra ended. Nayeon yelped, pulling away.

“Yah! Absolutely not.” She snapped. One of her hands instantly found Jeongyeon’s chin, gripping it tightly. “Bad girl.”

Jeongyeon just smirked at her, clearly proud of herself for getting a reaction out of Nayeon.

“You really want to play that way, baby?” Nayeon asked, her tone sharp. “Don’t forget who’s in charge tonight.”

Jeongyeon’s grin held strong. To make matters worse, she decided it would be a good idea to stick her tongue out. Nayeon was not having it, and she quickly reached up to finish tying Jeongyeon’s wrists before moving off of her lap.

“Roll over. Ass up.” Nayeon commanded. “Since you want to play around, we’ll do this the hard way.”

Jeongyeon wordlessly obliged, doing exactly what she was told. She did her best to rest on her forearms, her teeth gritting at the sting of the ropes digging into her wrists. Nayeon stepped off the bed and walked back over to the closet, grabbing something else out of the box- a riding crop. She got back onto the bed, sighing.

“I wasn’t even planning on using this today, but it seems like my puppy really wants to be punished.” She grumbled, annoyed. “Is that right?”

Jeongyeon nodded.

“Guess so.” She replied, her tone playful.

All of that was thrown out the window at the first smack of the riding crop against her ass. Jeongyeon let out a yelp, hiding her face in her forearms.

“You know how to speak to me.” Nayeon spat out. “Seems like you’ll just have to be broken in.”

Jeongyeon whimpered, arching her back to expose her ass more. Nayeon just chuckled at the sight, doing her best to ignore the tingling feeling it sent straight down to her core.

“Aw, looks like my puppy likes being hurt.” She said, tapping the crop sharply against Jeongyeon’s ass a few times.

Jeongyeon couldn’t help but whimper.

“Yes mommy.” She whispered, her head turned away.

“Color?” Nayeon asked, checking in.

“Green.” Jeongyeon replied firmly.

Nayeon could never have predicted just how turned on she was at that very moment. There was just something about having Jeongyeon- her strong, almost always dominant girl- pliant and obedient just for her. Her head was nearly swimming at the feeling of power she got from all of this, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. She brought the crop down harshly, causing Jeongyeon to let out another whimper.

“You’ll start with ten. You’ll count each one out.” Nayeon told her bluntly. “If you mess up, I add five more. Got it?”

Jeongyeon nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

At that, Nayeon began to harshly strike Jeongyeon’s ass and the tops of her thighs with the crop. Jeongyeon counted out each one, doing her best to stifle any whimpers, unsure if she was allowed to do anything but count and not wanting to risk it. Nayeon relished in the feeling of watching her sweet girlfriend submitting to her, the way her skin turned red with each smack causing her own arousal to pool at her core. After the last spank, she rewarded Jeongyeon by running her fingers through the now shaking girl’s slick folds, lazily circling Jeongyeon’s swollen clit with her index finger.

“My, my, puppy. You must’ve really liked that, huh?” Nayeon sneered. “You’re soaking wet. You really are a painslut, huh?”

Jeongyeon nodded weakly. “Y-yes mommy. I’m- ah! I’m your painslut.”

Nayeon played with her clit for just a bit longer before she pulled her hand away. She gave Jeongyeon another harsh spank with her hand, causing the younger girl to yelp, before moving to grab the plug and lube from off the bedside table.

Nayeon moved back behind Jeongyeon, pausing for a moment to take in the deep, red marks that now adorned the younger girl’s ass and the top of her thighs. Nayeon couldn’t help but smirk, feeling proud of herself. She reached out, running her hand over Jeongyeon’s ass, making sure to rake her nails across the marks. Jeongyeon let out a hiss followed by a whimper.

“Mommy…” She whined, her legs wobbling.

Nayeon took it as her queue to pull back, not wanting to cause Jeongyeon too much pain or scare her off. After all, both of them were new to this. Nayeon was loving every second of it. She moved to drape herself over Jeongyeon’s back, her lips right next to her ear.

“Color?”

“Green. Very green.” Jeongyeon replied, her eyes squeezed shut.

Nayeon hummed and pressed a kiss to her partner’s cheek.

“We haven’t done this next part before, so if it hurts, use your safe word or say red.”

Jeongyeon nodded the best she could, her face squished between Nayeon and her tied up arms. Nayeon leaned back up, quickly slapping Jeongyeon’s ass one last time- for good measure. Jeongyeon whimpered, using the opportunity to wiggle her hips around. Nayeon chuckled at the sight.

“So needy for me, baby.” She whispered. “Don’t forget this is still a punishment.”

At that, Nayeon moved to prop herself up on her knees directly behind Jeongyeon. She grabbed the bottle of lube, cracking it open. The sound made the younger girl jolt- Jeongyeon turning her head to look back at Nayeon, watching over her shoulder as she squeezed some out directly onto her fingers. Jeongyeon’s eyes were wide, expectant- excited. The headband with the puppy ears framed her face perfectly. Nayeon grinned down at her.

“You know what’s coming next, don’t you, pup?” Nayeon teased. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this all day.”

Jeongyeon nodded. “Y-Yes ma’am.”

Nayeon chuckled, moving to spread the lube onto Jeongyeon’s ass. The younger girl shivered at the chill, her body tensing slightly at the unfamiliar feeling. Nayeon used her other hand to gently stroke Jeongyeon’s thigh, trying to keep her calm. After a moment, Nayeon dipped a finger inside, pushing past the tight ring of muscle, earning a whimper from Jeongyeon. She prodded at her entrance, making sure Jeongyeon was properly prepped. She added in a second finger, pushing down to her first knuckle. Jeongyeon let out a few sounds of pleasure, nearly pushing herself back into Nayeon’s hand. The older girl chuckled, swatting at Jeongyeon’s ass.

“Stay still.” Nayeon said firmly.

Jeongyeon didn’t reply, turning to hide her face in her arms. Nayeon continued her movements for a bit longer before deciding Jeongyeon was ready. She pulled out and reached to grab the plug- it wasn’t very big considering it would be the first time they ever did anything like this, but it was enough to make Jeongyeon squirm. Nayeon quickly added some lube to the toy before pressing it against Jeongyeon’s ass, teasing her. Jeongyeon whined at the feeling, pressing her hips back against it again, earning another spank from Nayeon.

“Be patient, pup.” Nayeon scolded. “Or else I’ll just make it worse for you.”

Jeongyeon huffed. “Sorry mommy...”

Nayeon just shook her head. Clearly, Jeongyeon was having fun acting like a brat. But that wouldn’t do- Nayeon wanted to see her utterly broken at this point. She was having too much fun.

After a bit more teasing, Nayeon finally gave in, gently pressing the plug into Jeongyeon’s ass. Nayeon watched as Jeongyeon’s body tensed for a moment, the younger girl’s hands clasping together. She grunted, doing her best to relax and stay still. As soon as the plug sank fully into her, Nayeon pressed a button on the bottom, turning on the vibrations. Jeongyeon couldn’t help but moan then.

“Somebody likes that, huh?” Nayeon teased. “Roll over onto your back, pup.”

Jeongyeon did as she was told. Nayeon helped her roll over and adjust, forcing Jeongyeon’s legs apart. Nayeon sat between them and leaned back on her knees, taking in the sight before her. Jeongyeon’s arms were up above her head, her dark eyes watery, glazed over. Her body was trembling with need, her core glistening with wetness. Her new collar still sat beautifully around her neck, and the pair of black puppy ears that sat atop her head complimented her hair perfectly. Nayeon thought she looked beautiful like that- completely exposed, ready to take whatever Nayeon was about to do to her.

Nayeon was almost too caught up in the moment to remember it was a punishment.

But she inhaled and gathered herself, ignored the way her own core ached with need, and leaned to grab the wand vibrator off the nightstand. She lifted it up to show Jeongyeon- both of them were entirely too familiar with this toy- smirking when her girlfriend failed to contain a whimper.

“Color?” Nayeon asked.

“Green.” Jeongyeon replied desperately.

At that, Nayeon cut on the toy to its highest setting and held it directly to Jeongyeon’s clit. Jeongyeon groaned out at the feeling, her eyes squeezing shut. She blindly reached up for the headboard, doing her best to hold onto it despite her wrists still being tied. Her hips bucked, but Nayeon immediately used her free hand to hold on, her nails digging into Jeongyeon’s skin. Jeongyeon’s head rolled back, and she let out a loud moan- the loudest Nayeon had ever heard her be in all their years together. Nayeon couldn’t help but grin mischievously.

“Feels good, huh, puppy?” She jeered.

Jeongyeon nodded desperately.

“Y-Yes mommy. Fuck- It feels so good.” Jeongyeon sputtered out between moans. “So, so good. Oh my god.”

Nayeon’s grin turned darker, and she pressed the toy against the other girl harder, earning more moans. Jeongyeon’s body twitched, her hips threatening to buck.

“Such a desperate little slut for me, eh?” Nayeon teased. “Tell me when you’re close, pup.”

Jeongyeon nodded, her eyes still squeezed shut. A moment passed before she opened her mouth again.

“C-Close.” She whimpered out.

Nayeon huffed, amused.

“Already? Such a pathetic little puppy.” She pressed the toy against Jeongyeon harder, the other girl letting out a cry.

“G-Gonna- mommy, I’m gonna c-“

Before Jeongyeon could finish her sentence, Nayeon pulled the toy away. Jeongyeon let out a whine, finally opening her eyes as she gasped for air. Nayeon shook her head, tutting.

“You think you deserve it? You’ve been such a bad puppy. You’ll cum when I say you can cum.”

Jeongyeon whined. “But-“

She was cut off by a harsh smack to her thigh.

“Nuh uh, no buts.” Nayeon spat. “You’ve been so bad. I’ll keep this up until you’re completely broken for me, and then maybe I’ll let you finish.”

Jeongyeon whimpered but nodded, accepting her fate. Nayeon brought the toy back against her, and the cycle of edging continued. Nayeon did it five more times, each time making Jeongyeon even more desperate than the last- her moans becoming more high pitched, and the time it took for her to reach the edge getting shorter and shorter. Nayeon loved every second of it, watching how Jeongyeon writhed under her, how frantic her eyes looked, her pupils blown wide. The rope dug into Jeongyeon’s wrists with each movement, causing the skin around them to turn red.

After the seventh time, Nayeon felt her resolve starting to crumble.

Jeongyeon was practically limp as Nayeon pulled away the toy. The younger girl whimpered, her head falling back against the pillows. She had long let go of the headboard, her arms resting above her head. Jeongyeon panted, staring at the ceiling, her body covered in sweat, trembling. Nayeon put the toy down, and then also reached to turn off the vibrating plug. She then leaned up to pepper kisses along Jeongyeon’s exposed chest.

“You handled your punishment so well, puppy. Good girl.” She whispered, moving down to take Jeongyeon’s nipple into her mouth, biting down gently.

Jeongyeon whimpered, lifting her head to watch. Nayeon sucked for a moment, rolling her tongue around the sensitive bud, before pulling off, locking eyes with her partner.

“Wanna cum on my tongue, puppy?”

Jeongyeon practically moaned at the question, biting her lip and nodding desperately.

“Please, mommy. Please. I’ve been so good.”

How could Nayeon deny her at this point.

Nayeon smiled and leaned up to press a quick kiss to Jeongyeon’s lips before moving to settle between her thighs. She could see just how wet Jeongyeon was, the poor girl’s slick practically dripping out of her as her hole clenched around nothing. Nayeon bit her lip at the sight, suppressing a groan that dared to escape. She moved her hands around Jeongyeon’s hips, spreading her apart for better access. After pressing a few kisses to her inner thighs, Nayeon dove in, swiping her tongue through Jeongyeon’s folds before focusing on her clit, quickly flicking her tongue against the swollen bundle of nerves.

Somewhere above her, Jeongyeon brokenly moans out. Her body tenses up, still on edge. Nayeon looks up to see Jeongyeon staring up at the ceiling, her jaw slack. Her hands are clasped together so tightly that her knuckles are white. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath causing a tiny sound to escape as Nayeon works at her with her tongue.

That’s the prettiest she’s ever looked, Nayeon thinks.

“F-Fingers…” Jeongyeon manages to say.

Nayeon hums against her core, earning another whimper. She moves her hands off Jeongyeon’s hips, using one arm to prop herself up as she continues to eagerly suck and lap at Jeongyeon’s folds. The other hand moves, giving a teasing press to the plug that’s still nestled in Jeongyeon’s ass- the younger girl nearly sobbing out at the feeling- before she gives Jeongyeon exactly what she needs.

“My sweet puppy.” Nayeon says, pulling up for just a moment, as she sinks two fingers into Jeongyeon’s aching cunt. “You’re so pretty when you’re broken for me.”

Jeongyeon cries out, cursing as Nayeon begins to move, pumping her fingers in and out. Nayeon goes right back to sucking her clit, her tongue pressing down in just the way she knows Jeongyeon likes it best.

Nayeon thinks she could live forever in this moment, doing this.

She looks up, locking eyes with Jeongyeon. The younger girl’s face was bright red, her eyes hooded. Her bangs stuck to her forehead with sweat, her bottom lip captured between her teeth. Her headband had long slipped off, but her collar was visible at this angle- proof of who she belonged to. She was completely and utterly Nayeon’s- with or without that pretty black collar on her neck.

At a particularly harsh thrust, Jeongyeon whimpered, her head falling back.

“C-Can I cum? Please, Nayeonie- need to cum. I’ve been so good, please- fuck, please let me cum.”

Nayeon smiled, her lips still pressed against Jeongyeon’s clit. She thrusts her fingers harder, curling up to hit the spot that she knows will push Jeongyeon right over the edge.

“Go ahead, puppy. Cum for me.”

With a few more thrusts, and one final firm press of Nayeon’s tongue against her clit, Jeongyeon breaks. Her body tenses and she cries out, nearly screaming Nayeon’s name as her orgasm hits her like a truck. Nayeon helped her through it, gently moving her fingers while placing open mouthed kisses along her folds, avoiding anything that could overstimulate the spent girl. When Jeongyeon finally relaxes, Nayeon moves away. They’re clearly done here. Gently she removes the plug from Jeongyeon’s ass, setting it on the nightstand, before moving to free Jeongyeon’s wrists.

“You did so good, Jeongyeonie.” Nayeon says, placing a kiss on Jeongyeon’s forehead as she tosses the rope away.

Jeongyeon immediately reaches out for her, wrapping her arms around Nayeon and pulling her down on top of her. Nayeon’s face ended up squished in Jeongyeon’s neck, nose pressed against the leather collar. It was uncomfortable, but she didn’t care. Jeongyeon needed to hold her, and that was her priority.

“That was so good. Thank you.” Jeongyeon managed to say after a few moments, her voice weak. She held on to Nayeon tightly, her body still shivering from overwhelm.

They laid like that for a bit before Jeongyeon’s grip finally loosened, letting Nayeon sit up. She placed another kiss to Jeongyeon’s forehead.

“Let me take the collar off, baby.” She whispered down to Jeongyeon. “And I need to look at your back. I know I broke the skin… It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Jeongyeon hummed.

“It does a bit but… it’s a good hurt.” She admitted sheepishly. “I love it… I loved all of it.”

Nayeon smiled softly. She gave Jeongyeon another kiss before helping her take off her collar. She grabbed it and the headband with the puppy ears and placed them both on the nightstand before helping Jeongyeon roll over onto her stomach, examining the damage she did to her ass. Nayeon grimaced at the sight- angry welts and bruises adorned Jeongyeon’s skin. It looked painful, but Nayeon couldn’t help but feel… proud. She was the only one who got to do this to Jeongyeon, and Jeongyeon willingly let her do it to her- Jeongyeon gave herself over to her completely. But part of her still felt guilty for it.

“Are you sure I didn’t overdo it?” Nayeon mumbled, gently running her hand over the bruises and welts, not wanting to cause Jeongyeon anymore pain.

“No, it was perfect. All of it was perfect, Nay.” Jeongyeon said, her voice muffled from having her face pressed into the pillow. She turned her head to the side. “I don’t think I’ve ever finished that hard before.”

Nayeon moved up and ran her hand through Jeongyeon’s hair gently, earning a smile from the other girl. Nayeon couldn’t help but smile, too.

“So, what you’re saying is that I did a good job?” She asked, a teasing tone.

Jeongyeon nodded.

“It was great. No notes. I couldn’t ask for a better owner, really.” She answered with a smirk.

Nayeon let out an amused huff and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of Jeongyeon’s head before getting up and padding off to the bathroom to get medicine. She also quickly made a trip to the kitchen to get a glass of water, making her way back to the bedroom with everything. Jeongyeon was still lying on her stomach when Nayeon joined her again, setting the water aside so she could apply the medicine to Jeongyeon’s backside. The younger girl let out a small hiss at the contact of the ointment, but relaxed shortly after Nayeon had began working it into her skin. She also made sure to apply some to Jeongyeon’s wrists where the rope left a deep imprint. She just laid there as Nayeon took care of her, a blissed out smile on her lips the entire time.

Nayeon loved every second of it, getting to pamper her sweet girl after such an intense scene. It felt so fulfilling to have Jeongyeon like that under her, and it was even more rewarding to see the aftermath. And even after tearing Jeongyeon apart like that, Nayeon got to help mend her back together. She was happy that she could make Jeongyeon feel safe, comfortable, taken care of, loved. She loved Jeongyeon so much, more than anything or anyone else.

She finished applying the ointment and helped Jeongyeon sit up, handing her the glass of water. She rubbed circles into Jeongyeon’s back, watching as the other girl finished the glass almost in one go. Jeongyeon looked down at the bed, blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“You didn’t think that was weird, right?” She asked, her eyes focused on one particular spot on the sheets.

Nayeon shook her head.

“Not at all. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t comfortable.” Nayeon replied, hugging Jeongyeon from the side. “In fact, I’d really love if you let me do it again in the future.”

Jeongyeon bit her bottom lip and nodded.

“I will, definitely. I’ve never… experienced anything like that before. It was everything I’d wanted and more.” She finally looked up at Nayeon. “I love you so much. Thank you for doing that for me.”

Nayeon smiled softly at the girl beside her, her heart soaring in her chest. Jeongyeon was never the type to be sappy, so this was a rare moment for both of them.

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know.” Nayeon leaned in, kissing Jeongyeon’s cheek. “There’s no need to thank me. You can tell me anything you want or need, and always I’ll do my best to provide it for you, Jeong.”

Nayeon took the now empty glass from Jeongyeon’s hands, lying down. She pulled the younger girl down, Jeongyeon’s head resting on her chest. The two of them laid in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence for a bit before Jeongyeon shifted, sitting up suddenly.

Before Nayeon could say anything, Jeongyeon planted both of her hands on either side of Nayeon’s head, straddling the older girl’s hips. Nayeon gasped at the sudden change, shocked that Jeongyeon had shifted the dynamic that quickly. Her hands flew to Jeongyeon’s sides, gripping them gently.

“Jeong- You don’t have to.” Nayeon whispered, looking up at Jeongyeon with concern.

Jeongyeon just shook her head before leaning down, her lips brushing over the shell of Nayeon’s ear. Nayeon shuddered at the feeling, her neediness finally catching up to her.

“But you were so good for me, Nay.” Jeongyeon whispered, her breath warm against Nayeon’s cheek. “Let me take care of you. You deserve a reward.”

Nayeon blushed fiercely, her eyes squeezing shut. She pressed her thighs together, suddenly painfully aware of just how soaked her panties were.

“Baby…” She whimpered out.

“Shhh… Just relax. Let me make you feel good, Nayeonie.”

Really, Nayeon could never say no to her good puppy.

[geekforhorror]

i hope it’s ok but i just saw your post abt wanting more sub ani content and i literally was thinking about him last night; like him being tied up to where he can’t touch you or himself, and youre just saying the filthiest and meanest stuff and ofc the occasional praise but he just can’t handle it because although you’ve only been teasing him for an hour he feels like it’s been five so he just starts sobbing and begging to touch you or at least to let him touch himself, but he’s crying so his begging just sounds like gasps and ‘pleases’ and he’s just stuttering but he takes it, he takes it because he wants to be good, he wants to show he can take whatever you give, and ofc at some point you give him that satisfaction he needs so bad and it all ends in the most romantic and sweet aftercare

but yeah just a thought (also sorry i didn’t mean to write too much 😭, also i love your blog and your works 💗)

I FUCKING LOVE THIS REQUEST OMG ALSO THANK U FOR THE KIND WORDS :)))

cruel passion

pairing: rots!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!reader, sub!anakin, ani being whiny, reader is kinda mean, edging, unprotected sex, eventual p in v sex, handjob, depiction of bdsm, bondage, use of handcuffs, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, praise, degradation, dacryphilia?, fluff, aftercare, etc.

word count: 1.6k

If he only knew what he was in for tonight when he came home. He sure as hell wouldn’t have thought that you were going to be like this— so dominant and powerful.

“You want me huh?” you cooed as you were currently fucking with him. He was cuffed to the headboard and forced to watch you play with yourself for the past hour. You had brought out the toys that he loved to use on you, but couldn’t do anything about it as you came time and time again right in front of him. He took in the way your arousal covered your thighs, how your body was glistening from beads of sweat, and the way you were quivering from your own touch.

“Mmm… Feels so good Ani…” you let out with a moan as your fingers delved deeper in your walls.

“Baby, please…” he lets out.

“Please what?” you ask in a mocking tone.

“Ple- Please let-,” he says in a whimpery tone.

“Oh I know what you want baby… you want to touch me, don’t you?” you say to him teasingly.

The way you talked to him should’ve made him mad. It usually would’ve, but he was too far gone and desperate to feel that way. With each word you spoke, he felt his cock throb and get harder at your actions and words. It was agonizing and he just wanted a release. He didn’t even care what he got it from. Whether it was you giving him a handjob, head, or even sinking down on his aching dick, he didn’t care. He was desperate and you were making this torturous for him.

“Y-Yes.” he manages to say, still tripping over his words.

“It’s so cute when you’re a whimpering mess for me,” you say with a grin.

“I need to touch you,” he says in a shaking voice, now letting tears fall down his cheeks.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. You’re going to be a good boy for me and take what I give you or else, you won’t get to touch me at all. Understand?” you say. You see his eyes dim a bit at your statement before nodding his head, but they’re still filled with lust and need. He knew better than to disobey you when you took the reins because he knew you would fulfill your nasty promise. He told himself he would have to take it.

“Now watch me,” you say before grabbing his chin and lifting it upwards so you guys could make eye contact. You continue fingering yourself at a faster pace now in an attempt to make yourself cum and make Anakin harder.

“Fuck! Fuck…” you scream with no intention of quieting down at all. Your noises sent Anakin head back, hitting his head on the headboard in doing so. He brushed off the pain and looked back at you so you wouldn’t punish him even more.

“Fuck baby, you’re so beautiful,” Anakin mutters loud enough for you to hear while you were lost in the ecstasy of your own fingers. He notices how shaky your legs were from your own overstimulation and he knew you were close. That’s how well he knew your pretty little body. Your chest was heaving at this point, which made your hardened tits slightly bounce in the air. Maker, he was so hard. He knew that as soon as you touched him, he would be a fucking goner.

With a few more rough thrusts of your fingers, you cum once more, only adding more of a mess on your thighs and the sheets. You gasped at your unexpected high and pulled your messy fingers out of your cunt, revealing them to Anakin.

“Do you wanna suck them? Who am I kidding? Of course you want to… because you’re a little slut, Ani,” you spat.

“Can I?” he asks.

“Yes baby. You can,” you say agreeably before inserting them in his warm mouth and cleaning your fingers.

“Tastes so good, my love,” he says with an awestruck look on his face.

“Glad you think so, sweetie,” you reply with a grin. “Since you were such a good boy, you can touch me under one condition. I’m gonna put your hand wherever I want it to be and you won’t complain,” you say demandingly.

“But baby… I want to touch you by myself,” he complains in a whiny voice.

“Was that backtalk, baby? I sure hope it wasn’t for your sake,” you say with intrigue.

Anakin knew he fucked up.

“N-No baby, I promise it wasn’t… I’ll be good for you…” he trails off.

“That’s what I like to hear,” you scoff. “Don’t make me change my mind,” you continue.

“I promise I won’t,” he says.

“Good,” you grit. Without hesitation, you grab ahold of his restrained hand and start dragging it across your body. He feels his breath hitch in his chest when you drag it over your swollen breasts. You make him pinch the flesh, which caused you to let out a breathy sigh.

“Where do you want to touch me?” you ask him.

“I wanna touch your pussy,” he admits.

“My pussy, huh?” you ask rhetorically sounding amused.

“Yeah, fuck… I want to touch it more than anything,” Anakin admits.

“Maker, I fucking love it when you say shit like that,” you whisper in his ear. His words prompt you to get on top of him until you are completely straddling him. “I’ll do you one better since you were such a good whore for me, Ani,” you say as you unfasten his belt before throwing it to the ground. You hastily throw his pants down and don’t waste anytime before taking off his boxers. The sight surprises you beyond belief. You had seen his erected dick many times, but this was unlike anything you had seen before. It was all swollen from your relentless teasing earlier and you couldn’t help but chuckle that you had been the cause of all of this.

“All for me, huh?” you ask him.

“Mhm…” he lets out.

“Getting off on watching my little show is beyond desperate, y’know that right?” you chuckle with a glint of approval in your voice. He has no verbal response and instead nods his head.

“I think it’s hot though,” you say with a smile.

“Does this mean I don’t have to be handcuffed anymore?” he asks genuinely.

“Maybe,” you reply in a singsong voice before extending your arm to reach for the key that was resting on your nightstand. Once you finally grasp it, you move your arm towards him again before inserting the key into the hole that would set him free. You do the same to the other before he throws the handcuffs to the side and have you feverishly kiss him while you’re now on top of him.

“Sweetheart, you don’t know what that does to me,” he says in your ear.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” you counter seductively. “ Now let me take care of you.” you continue.

You then sink down onto his aching cock and the sound of gasps from both of you filled your ears. You couldn’t hold back any longer before you’re now bouncing up and down on his cock, your tits bouncing in his face as you do so. He fondles one with his hand and starts sucking away at the supple skin. Despite only being seated on him for such a short time, you can feel his cock harshly split you open until your cunt is nothing more than all achy and raw. Even though this was his reward, it was also yours too because you had yearned to be in this situation again.

Your hands find their way to his hips before you push against them, making him go faster. His moans are quickly filling the room, but he was too fucked out to care. He just wanted to focus on the way you felt around him.

“Just like that, my pretty boy… just like that,” you praise as you tilt your head back at how good he was filling you up with his dick. Your words only egg him on even further and cause him to pick up a faster pace. You knew he was close by the way his hips were stuttering and how sloppy his movements had become.

“Feels so good, angel” he cries out, tears falling from his ethereal ocean blue eyes.

“Fuck… Ani!” you scream as you slightly bite into his shoulder.

You don’t know if it’s from the overstimulation that causes both of you to cum without warning, but it makes your vision blurry. You feel his hot ropes of cum spill into you as you take in the sensation. The moan he lets out is nothing but high pitched and shaky. He continues jackhammering himself into your tight pussy in order to let you ride out your high and his own. Once you finally come down from the earth shattering sensation he had given you, he lays his head on your shoulder before you caress his messy curls.

“I love you Ani, you know that right?” you say to him.

“Of course I know, sweetheart and so do I,” he replies softly. You softly peck your lips on his before breaking the contact. Despite it being short, the two of you felt the love and affection that channeled through the brief kiss as you were in each others arms.

“Come on, let’s run you a bath,” you coo.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I can join you if you’d like,” you say softly.

“I’d like nothing more,” he says with that angelic smile you had grown to love so much.

“Then let’s go,” you say before the two of you get up together and hold each others hands on the way to the bathroom. Once you make it to the bathroom, you close the door and you’re one step closer to being by his side again in the bathtub.

This wouldn’t be the last time, that was for sure.

[hijinxinprogress]

Young justice can’t play board games together as it always ends in chaos so they decided that gambling was a better idea (it’s not)

They’re all good at strategy so yj can’t play board games together bc all games end with everyone bored, in a stalemate, or with someone(s) cheating which usually delves into chaos very quickly so they just make bets with each other but they almost never bet with actual money just with random things like:

“if I’m right you’re diffusing this shit”

“I promise you, you won’t make that next shot” “when I make this shot you’re telling Wonder Woman what happened to her plane”

“If the next sentence out of his mouth is ‘You could never understand how I feel,’ I want the good spoon” “fuck you, I bought that spoon”

“Aux cord privileges say they’re not gonna yell at us again” “Dish duty says you’re wrong”

“I get to pick which planet we go to next if Flash gives us the ‘we’re not the enemy’ speech”

“I get to drive if we got the wrong guy”

“trash duty says we’re getting yelled at for collateral damage again”

They’re technically not allowed to place bets after the time Cassie lost a bet to Anita and could only speak if she talked like an angry teen in movies/tv shows (even during league meetings and missions/mission reports) but the league genuinely couldn’t tell she was doing a bit so they’re walking on eggshells around Cassie and trying to discretely piece together what could’ve made her so upset while yjs in hysterics and repeating everything she says in high pitched whiny voices so the jl’s like “I don’t understand, all of you seemed to be very close yesterday?? why is Cassie being bullied?? Why are you being so mean to her?? she’s clearly in distress” and yjs on the floor sobbing bc Cassie’s still in character when the league tries to hold an anti bullying intervention with a ‘bullying is for villains’ poster and everything

[em1e]

夏 + 五条 // OLVIDADA ⠀ ༝ ༝ gojo satoru + geto suguru ⠀ ༝ ༝ 2.9k words ⠀ ⚠︎ angst :3 this is a cyoe story ! [ endings are tbp ] ⠀ — [ part 1 ] you were supposed to be dead, but by some miracle gojo's found you. gojo, too.

i. alive

“So,” he starts after taking a sip of his drink, “where have you been all these years?” 

You pause for a second longer than necessary, letting your finger run around the rim of your cup before sighing, “I lost my memory a few years ago . . . “ And he lets you delve into the same story you told Gojo, Geto hanging onto every word you say like it’s the last thing he could ever hear from you. 

“. . . and Gojo and I have been kinda just been getting to know each other again.” 

You only look back up at him when you’ve finished retelling your most recent memories, wanting to try and gauge his reaction based on what you’ve told him. 

He’s quiet for a moment before he tilts his head towards you, “So Gojo and you, you’ve been bonding?” 

You laugh a little, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and scrunching your nose, “Something like that, I guess. More like catching up? He’s trying to help me remember anything, but it isn’t really helping.” 

Your smile turns sheepish, looking back down to your coffee, “It is nice to hear about the memories, though - they’re just new stories but me and you and Gojo are the stars.” 

The analogy is . . . cute. Very fitting with your current profession, and not at all something Geto could expect when surrounded by curses. There’s something so innocent about it, so pure that has him clutching his sleeves in his fists and sending another smile your way. 

“So how do you deal with it all?” The question leaves you with furrowed brows, head tilting to the side as if you need him to elaborate. 

“‘It all’?” You repeat, unsure of what kind of answer he’s really looking for, “I mean, I’ve been to therapy I guess, when I was younger and still trying to figure everything out, but I’ve got a handle on it all now and - “

“You’ve figured it all back out on your own?” 

You almost want to be annoyed at how frequently he’s interrupting you, coddled by Gojo the past few weeks reminding you how different the two are, but his saccharine smile never falters and you can’t really find it in yourself to be upset.  He’s just curious, after all. 

“Most of it, yeah,” you hum, unsure of yourself, “but it’s been easier with Gojo around - and now you too, hopefully.” Your smile mimics his own, and he’s reminded of one of the last photos you took together as a group, eyes squinted and head tilted. He thinks about that memory often, chaining it to his heart and he wonders for a moment if it’s something Gojo has mentioned to you. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

ii. scattered

You and Geto part ways after talking for hours (up until the cafe closes - the workers have to politely ask you to leave), and you promise to keep in contact. Something warm settles in your chest, happy to have another portion of your past back, even if it’s only bit by bit. Like piecing a puzzle together. 

When you make it to your apartment, only half-paying attention to what you’re doing while trying to send a text to Geto so he has your number, you bump shoulders with someone. Immediate apologies fall off your lips, almost dropping your phone in favor of assisting whoever you’ve just run into, when you fully process the mop of white hair in front of you. 

“Oh! Hey Gojo, I didn’t know you were coming by,” you smile, moving past him to unlock your front door, “you won’t believe who I just talked to.” 

“I was just in the neighborhood,” he waves dismissively and follows behind you as you push your door open, “you’re not gonna tell me you ran into a celebrity without me, are you?” 

“No,” you laugh, sliding off your shoes while he shuts the door and does the same, “I ran into Geto!” 

You miss the way he freezes, too busy putting away your bag and putting on a pot of tea to notice, and he recovers relatively quickly, all things considered. 

“That so?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, “we talked for the last like . . . three hours? Would’ve never known it was him without you showin’ me that picture.”

When you turn to face him, he’s still hovering by the door. Maybe he hasn’t recovered as much as he thought. 

It makes you pause your ramblings, “Something wrong? I know you guys aren’t exactly friends-,” you gasp, ”oh god am I bringing up bad memories or something? I’m so sorry, I should’ve-” 

“It’s okay.” He smiles, but it does little to ease your concerns, “we still aren’t on the best of terms, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

He watches you pull your lip between your teeth, still very anxious at the prospect of making him upset. He steps forward and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair with a hum, “Promise, it’s fine. Tell me what you guys talked about?” 

Gojo moves past you to turn off the boiling tea, grabbing two cups for the both of you to keep his hands busy while you talk, worried if he doesn’t, you’ll see how they shake. 

You tell him about the various topics you managed to dive into, most being things you’ve already talked about with Gojo, along with some new additions sprinkled into the mix thanks to Geto. 

Gojo is silent as you speak, nursing his cup of tea and shaking his head with a smile when you offer to get him a new cup. You frown, not liking how quiet he is. You poke his temple three times, and he blinks each time, before looking at you. 

“What was that for?”

“Come on, Gojo, conversations need two people to participate,” you hold up that number of fingers, then point at one with your other hand, “it’s no fun if I’m the only one talking.” 

He hums in agreement, and you sigh, shaking his shoulder, “What’s wrong? You’re usually more talkative than I am.” 

“‘M just thinking.” He says dismissively, looking back into his cup to avoid the way your eyes bore into him, seeking more than what he has to offer. 

“That’s dangerous.” You counter instead, tapping at his temple again until he scowls and swats your hand away. 

“Ha ha ha, very funny. You should become a comedian.” 

“You think so? I’d miss my kids too much, but if you think I could, maybe I could take up a second job,” you laugh, “but then I wouldn’t have time for you-” 

“We wouldn’t want to take that from you,” he interrupts before you can finish, “your kids, I mean.” 

“Like I could live without you too.” You hum, knocking your knee into his. 

He gives you a genuine smile at that, and that’s enough to let you go back to whatever you were talking about before. 

ii. dead

“How long were you gonna keep it from me?” 

The words are bitter as Geto spits them out, arms crossing over his chest and head tilting while he takes in his friend. 

His friend, who doesn’t look bothered in the slightest by the venom being thrown his way. 

“Forever, if I could. Was really unlucky they happened to see you.” Gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, kicking at a crumpled piece of paper in the dark alley the two decided to have this chat in. 

“So you found them, and just decided keeping it to yourself was best? That I of all people didn’t deserve to know-” 

“They don’t remember anything about sorcerery.” 

Gojo’s declaration is enough to leave Geto almost gaping, before he squints and straightens his shoulders, “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said,” Gojo sighs out, leaning against the brick wall, “they don’t remember Jujutsu Tech for training, or any of the missions we went on - I don’t even think they remember how to see curses or use their technique. Think it’s just something that’s blocked in their mind.” 

“Have you tried talking to them about that?” Geto’s curiosity of it all getting the better of him. 

Gojo looks down, shaking his head, “No. I don’t . . . find it worth it. To spoil their happiness like that.” 

Geto clicks his tongue, “I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”  

“Doesn’t matter,” Gojo shrugs, stretching, “they’re content with what they know, with the life they’ve built. Neither of us are gonna ruin that for them.” 

“And if I do?” Geto challenges, chin rising and eyes narrowing, “Not like you can keep your eyes on them forever, and I think being a sorcerer is something someone deserves to know about themselves.” 

“I’ll kill you.” Gojo says easily. Calmly, if not for the way he glares behind his blindfold. 

Geto grins, all teeth, “I’d love for you to try.” 

iv. hypomnesia

A few weeks have passed since you first met Geto, and you fear he’s been ghosting you. You’ve sent a couple of texts, but the thought of annoying him overwrites any want to talk to him more, so you leave it be until he decides to message back - if ever. 

You’re submitting grades for some of your students when your phone dings. 

The sound honestly startles you, the classroom being silent other than the sound of your typing, and one glance to the device has you forgoing the B+ grade you were about to put in to instead unlock your phone and read the message. 

Geto 

Meet me at that cafe in two hours? 

Your fingers hover over the keyboard while you mull over a reply. 

You

i have plans with gojo then :( i can meet now if you’re free? 

You watch as the gray text bubble pops up, dancing on the screen before disappearing. 

Geto

Sure :) See you soon. 

You shut down your computer with a hum to yourself, making a mental note to finish when you get home before you and Gojo go out to dinner, grab your coat and your bag, and head out the door. 

Geto’s already in the cafe when you arrive, sitting in the same place from before, and offers a small smile when you sit across from him. 

“Were you waiting long? Sorry, I ran into one of my kids’ parents while I was leaving and they dragged me into a conversation about a project-” 

He waves dismissively, “Don’t worry about it, I wasn’t waiting too long.” 

You give a small sigh of relief, shoulders visabley relaxing at this, “Okay good. . . so, what’s up, how have you been these past few weeks?” You smile and Geto can’t stop himself from returning it. 

“‘ve been alright. I actually wanted to talk to you about something, though, if that’s alright. About our past.” 

Your brows shoot up in surprise, head tilting as the waiter brings you your drink. The same thing you’d ordered before. It’s sweet, almost, how he remembered. 

“What do you mean? Gojo and you already told me it all, right?” 

“Well,” he pauses to sip from his own drink, licking his lips before continuing, “it seems Gojo has left out details I thought he’d told you.” 

“Details?” You parrot, head tilting, “what do you mean?” 

He clicks his tongue as if deciding his next words carefully, using the straw to his drink to swirl it around in the cup, “You - we are something called sorcerers. We have abilities that allow us to use cursed techniques and defeat things called curses, and it’s what we attended Jujutsu Tech to train for.”

You’re openly staring at him as he speaks, opening your mouth to reply but stopping yourself when he continues, “When you lost your memory, we were fighting some curses and you . . . you fell off a building, and we couldn’t find you in the rubble after.” He reaches out to grab your hand, and you flinch at the movement, not even realizing you were shaking until his own clasps over yours. 

Everything was blurring around you. 

The ground was rushing towards you so fast and so slow, and the wind whipping around your ears made it harder to process what’d happened seconds before. 

You were hit, you think. By a curse or a person or something. You don’t know. You don’t remember. It hit you, and now you’re falling, and your cursed technique wouldn’t do you any good now if you could use it. 

What even was it again? 

The rush of air flowing past your ears is unbearable, everything around you melting into one mess, until all at once, all you feel is nothing.  

You yank your hand from his with a gasp, eyes wide and cradling it to yourself as if he’s burned you. 

“What was that?” You whisper out, voice quivering. 

Geto’s smile is gentle as he retracts his own hand, placing it atop the other in his lap, “Your memories, I imagine, are back now?” 

“What was that?” You repeat, fingers clutching the front of your shirt as if it could bring you some comfort. Closing your eyes for a second brings everything crashing back to you, the rush of the wind, the feeling of free falling, the chair behind you falls to the ground as you stand abruptly, sucking in a breath as if all the air has been stolen from your lungs. 

Maybe it has, if the way you’re breathing is anything to go by. 

He reaches forward, maybe to comfort you, maybe to help calm you down, but you’re stepping away before you can find out. Hurt flashes in his eyes, only for a second, then he’s dropping his hands back into his lap and gesturing to something to his right. 

Your eyes meet . . . something. A small blob of green fat floating beside Geto, and you cover your mouth to stop yourself from screaming or puking or whatever squeak could pass your lips. 

“I think we should take a second to calm down,” he’s starting to say, but you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, hear the way your heartbeat is thumping in your chest, and you’re turning on your heel before you can fully process the movement. 

“(y/n)-” he’s calling out, standing to follow you, but when you don’t turn to acknowledge it, he stays in place. You just need some time alone to process it. He understands. He can wait. 

For you, he can wait. 

You stumble home, avoiding other blobs of flesh and things even taller than you that you can only assume are the curses that Geto’d started to tell you about. Maybe you should’ve stayed long enough to relearn about them. You can only offer a half-hearted apology as your shoulder bumps into someone in the hall to your apartment. 

Vertigo takes over when the familiar smell of Gojo surrounds you, and he catches you before you can fall over. 

“Woah, slow down there, what’s goin’ on?” He asks, leading you to your door when you don’t answer. 

He eases your keys from your shaking hands, unlocking your door and guiding you inside while you hold him like a lifeline. 

“Why dontcha tell me what’s wrong?” He whispers gently as he sets you on the couch, fixing your shirt when it wrinkles but freezing when you grab his wrist to stop him. 

“You didn’t tell me everything.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s almost damning the way you speak. 

“What’re you talking ‘bout?” Gojo asks like you’ve said something silly, like he can’t believe what you’re saying because surely Geto hasn’t ruined this for him - ruined this for you. 

“Curses, Gojo? Techniques and training and-and,” your breathing is getting erratic again, unsteady as your grip tightens around his wrists. 

“I need you to breathe.” His voice is stable as he speaks, even and calm despite the way your eyes are boring into him. Tears poke at the corners of your eyes, fighting to fall, but you blink them away and force yourself to take a breath. 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin the life you’ve built.” He explains softly, so fucking softly, it almost makes the anger and panic and every other horrible emotion that found home in your veins slip away. 

But when you close your eyes for a second, you can feel it again. The falling, the open air, the pure fear before you hit the ground - and it has you pushing him away from you by the shoulders to stand with a teary-eyed glare. 

“That wasn’t for you to decide.” You clench your teeth to will the tears from falling, but they do anyway in streaks down your cheeks. 

“Do you think you’ll be happier now, knowing everything? Remembering everything?” 

His tone is nowhere near condescending as he asks, but it bites into you like a bullet because you just don’t know. Would seeing curses make you happier? Would knowing about your past, having your memories back be a good thing like you’d always hoped it would? 

“I need you to leave, Gojo.” It’s surprising how even your tone is, wiping away hastily at your cheeks and standing straighter. 

“C’mon, (y/n), don’t be like that-” 

“I need to think and I-I can’t. I can’t with you here, please, just go.” 

When you look up at him again, he realizes how truly worn you are. Maybe from reseeing curses, maybe from the abruptness of it all. With his mouth in a thin line, he nods and turns on his heel. 

He’ll wait for you to reach out. He can wait. For you, he can wait. 

geto ending [ tbp ] ༝ ༝ gojo ending [ tbp ]

[oohnotvery]

Hand To Your Heart (Chapter 3)

Hi, friends. Thank you so much for your incredible patience with me on this chapter. When I started writing this story, I had noooo clue that I’d unexpectedly be stepping into a new chapter of life at the exact same moment. I don’t really want to delve into details yet, but I hope to give you the full story someday soon :) Like all of life, it’s a mixture of good and bad, but mostly good.

As always, please trust that this angst-fest will have a lovely resolution.

-E.

tagging @today-in-fic

Present Day

Scully isn’t sure what exactly she expects from Mulder after that awful night in his apartment. Apart from their slightly tipsy decision to become friends with benefits many weeks ago, they have never openly addressed their sexual arrangement. It is a frail, vulnerable thing. To put words to it would surely break it.

But after slipping out the door of his apartment, she does half-expect to receive a phone call later that evening. Hey, Scully, sorry I fell asleep, and sorry about . . .

Sorry about what? He fucked her, which was the agreement they made. No one ever promised anything about making sure the other person enjoyed it. For all intents and purposes, Mulder did nothing out of the ordinary. He can’t ensure she comes every single time they have sex; hell, he may not have even realized she didn’t come. In his mind, there’s probably no issue at all.

But Mulder isn’t any old caveman who sticks it in and finishes without thought to his partner’s pleasure. In fact, every single other time they’ve been together, he’s lavished her with attention, usually pulling one or two orgasms from her before he even begins to think about tending to his own needs.

She’s not crazy, then. That night was an anomaly. So what possible excuse could he have for treating her the way he did? She ticks off the possibilities:

Maybe he was drunk. She’s fairly sure she tasted alcohol on his breath, and she knows that even for a man his size, he has a relatively low tolerance. Or maybe he was getting sick. Maybe he was feeling bad. Maybe he just couldn’t stop thinking about his burning office.

Can she forgive him for it? If he comes to her and apologizes, will it be enough to lure her back into his bed?

Although her logical mind says no, no way, I won’t put myself in that position ever again, her emotional brain knows the truth. She would slip back into his arms like water cascading over sharp rocks. Although their arrangement hurts her, she loves it too much, even when it’s awful. She loves that she is the woman Mulder chooses to bring to bed. She loves that she is the person who gets to touch him and taste him. She loves that she is the one who gets to stare into his eyes as he comes.

When she leaves his apartment, she is full of fury and humiliation, but when she wakes the next morning—physically sore and emotionally wounded—some of that initial anger dies. She knows she has a tendency to forgive him too quickly, and that this tendency is borne from a deep-seated terror that he will stop wanting and needing her.

She wants so badly to be hard and cold towards him. She wants so badly to demand an apology, to stand up for herself and her dignity.

But when he walks into work the next morning and takes his place at his desk, everything inside her seizes up. If I bring this thing to light, she reminds herself as she watches him shed his suit jacket, I give myself away. Once he knows that I care, it’s all over.

And so she stays quiet, and apart from a quick hello, Mulder does too. In fact, for the rest of the day, he hardly acknowledges her. Days pass in this way and she starts to grow more and more concerned that she’s done something wrong. That maybe he fucked her like that because he’s angry at her.

Should she ask him?

She nearly works up the courage to demand answers, but distraction in the form of a bomb threat in Texas arrives. The distraction does its job, balancing out their equilibrium, lowering Mulder’s low-simmering frustration and softening Scully’s hard edges. Some of their normal camaraderie even returns. Mulder turns playful, a bit jokey, excited to get out of D.C. and turn his mind from the excruciating loss of the X-Files.

When they return to D.C., Scully swears she sees a new page turning for them. He almost kisses her right there in his hallway, and though they’ve done this act dozens of times before, this time feels different. Its approach is slow, deliberate, and weighty, and the affection in his gaze disarms her. Maybe sex isn’t all there is between them. Maybe Mulder does feel more for her than lust.

And then there’s a bee and an impossible journey to Antarctica. If anything were going to repair this broken relationship, it would be Mulder’s dazzling heroics.

And yet.

They return to D.C., frostbitten and exhausted, and Mulder turns angry and moody and inaccessible once again. He’s livid when she waffles on whether they saw a spaceship in Antarctica, and he’s furious to find out that Jeffrey Spender and Diana Fowley have been assigned to the X-Files.

Relegated to the bull pen, they interact less and less. A few weeks ago, humiliated and angry and unsatisfied, she vowed never to sleep with him again. But now, even if she wanted to engage with him in that way, there would be few chances to do so. All their earlier pretenses for getting together disappear. Without the X-Files, he no longer has a reason to drop by her apartment to “go over a file.” She no longer has a reason to invite him out for drinks to discuss autopsy notes. They stop traveling frequently, so there’s no conjoining rooms.  

Her heartbreak processes slowly. It’s been weeks since he fucked her like he didn’t want her, but she’s just now starting to feel like her world is falling apart. Because even though she will not pursue him, the sad reality simmers in her subconscious: she wishes he would pursue her. But weeks pass and time stretches between them, and he doesn’t make a move. There are days when she can convince herself that Mulder is just bored and unhappy and unmotivated, and that he doesn’t have the energy to work up a sex drive. But on other days, her steadfast sense of rationalism kicks in, and she is smart enough to discern that he simply doesn’t want her anymore.

It hurts. It hurts, but she doesn’t let it show. She dons a cold mask and watches as they grow more and more distant from each other.

Everything’s fine, she tells herself on repeat, day after day after day.

But at night, when she’s alone, she drops her face into her hands and cries. Because they’re broken. She’s broken.

And everything is not fine.

**

It is a hot, cloudless summer day when the elevator door slides open and Scully spies Diana Fowley walking through the bull pen. It’s been weeks since their paths have crossed, although Scully occasionally spies the other woman at security checkpoints during the morning rush hour. It is rare, however, to see her up on this floor.

Distracted, Scully forgets to exit the elevator car and has to lunge to catch the closing door. The hot coffee she’s holding in a flimsy paper cup sloshes down her wrist and forearms and she curses as she steps out into the hallway.

“Careful,” comes a disapproving voice, and Scully’s head snaps up. Diana brushes her shoulder as she sashays into the elevator, mouthing ouch as her lips curl into a twisted little wince.

Cheeks flaming, Scully scowls and continues down the hallway towards the bull pen. Diana Fowley never brings good news, so she’s not exactly surprised to find that Mulder is already starting to pack up for the day.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, glancing casually at her watch. It’s not even noon.

He flashes her a neutral look, nodding. “Maryland.”

She bites her cheek. “With Agent Fowley?”

If Mulder is surprised at her guess, he doesn’t show it, just yanks his suit jacket from his chair and swings it over his arm. “Yep.”

Scully frowns, stepping around the desk to block him from leaving. He sighs irritably and runs a hand across his jaw.

“What is it, Scully?” he asks with an impatient glance at the clock.

She tamps down the pesky surge of hurt that flashes through her. “Is there a case?”

“Yep.”

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

“It’s X-Files business,” he replies evasively.

“You aren’t on the X-Files anymore, Mulder.”

He shrugs. “Diana’s requested my expertise on this matter.”

“Just yours?”

“She doesn’t need a scientist around, if that’s what you’re asking,” he replies, finally making eye contact with her. “This is an investigation into a paranormal event. It’s not really up your alley.”

She balks, her eyebrows flying to her hairline. “Not up my alley? Really, Mulder?”

“You know what I mean,” he huffs aggravatedly. “Don’t take it the wrong way.”

But her hands are beginning to tremble. “Might I remind you that I was an equal partner on the X-Files for nearly five years, Mulder? That all we did was investigate the paranormal and the unexplained and the unsolved phenomena of our world? In fact, you might even be able to say that the paranormal has been my bread and butter for nearly half a decade.”

He rubs at his eyes so hard that she’s tempted to reach out and stop him. You’ll get wrinkles, she would have chided him a few months ago. Now, she simply stays silent.  

“Fine, come if you really want,” he says with a half-hearted shrug.

“Gee, what a warm invitation,” she snaps. She digs her fingernails into her palms, trying to tamp down her rising indignation. But it’s been building and building and building for so long, for so many weeks, and she’s not sure she has any control over it anymore.

Refusing to take the bait, he sighs. “Come if you must, Scully, but like I said, there’s no need. It’s just going to be me and Diana on this. Don’t waste your time on something that doesn’t involve you—”

“But I’m your partner—”

“We’re not partners,” he retaliates, so loudly that several people look up from their desks.

It’s a low blow, and the regret that briefly flashes across his face tells her that he knows it too. But he’s mostly right. They aren’t really partners, not anymore. Not in the way they were when they were investigating the X-Files.

Crossing her arms protectively across her chest, she lifts her eyes to meet his gaze. “So you have a new partner then?” She just barely resists adding, “someone leggy and buxom and brunette, perhaps?”

His jaw twitches. “Oh, don’t do this, Scully.”

“That’s not an answer, Mulder.”

He shakes his head and takes a step closer, dropping a large palm heavily across her shoulder. “You know Diana has been consulting with me since she took over the X-Files,” he says, speaking to her like she’s a child. Her stomach turns and she bites back the words she wants to say: no, I didn’t know that. “Those files mean everything to me, Scully, and you know that. I can’t say no to the opportunity to work on them just because that opportunity doesn’t involve you. Don’t hold me back here.”

The breath leaves her body. Stunned, she steps back, letting his hand slide off her shoulder. In her mind’s eye, she’s suddenly back in his hallway, many weeks ago. I’ve just held you back, she hears herself telling him. But you saved me! he replies earnestly. As difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over! You’ve kept me honest . . . you’ve made me a whole person.

Did he mean any of it? Or was all of it just to keep her under his control?

Turning away from him, she tries to ignore the infuriating sting of tears building in her eyes. And if Mulder notices her pain, he doesn’t say anything. After a few seconds, when she’s sure she can look at him without crying, she tips her face up to his. Her mouth parts and she tries to speak, tries to say anything to recover her dignity. But emotions choke in her throat and she just drops her head again. She feels him step in close and this time, she can’t stop the tears that break over her lashes.

“Scully, come on, stop, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says earnestly, his palm falling to her back, his lips to her ear. In her mind, he is fucking her too roughly, too emotionlessly, too distantly. In her mind, he is falling asleep before she even has a chance to come. In her mind, she is sitting in the car crying as her body burns with pain.

“I’m sorry,” he continues, slipping his hand down to squeeze her waist. It is too familiar, and she flinches. “You don’t hold me back, Scully, you know that. But this case has potential and I’m finally feeling motivated about something. This is important to me.”

What he doesn’t say is plain enough: you’re no longer important to me.

She nods, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. The taste of iron reminds her of the nosebleeds she used to get when the cancer was ravaging her body. If she had died then, would Mulder respect her more? She would have become like a martyr to his cause, someone to be revered and worshipped the rest of his life, like Samantha. If only she had succumbed then, maybe he would love her now.

“Scully,” he tries again, and she shakes her head.

“It’s fine,” she says a little too brightly, plastering on a fake smile and glancing up at him for good measure. All she knows right now is that he can’t see how badly he’s hurt her. To admit to that would be to admit that she cares about him far more than he cares about her. It is self-annihilation.

“It’s good,” she continues, her voice rising. “It’s good that you’re happy. That’s all I—that’s all I want, Mulder.”

And to her astonishment, he bends down and presses a quick kiss to her cheek. She recoils, shrinking towards the desk. By the time she recovers from her shock, he is already out the door.

[ggyuha]

phantom’s lover / ghost

[ summary ] : you ask ghost to stay home with you but he doesn’t. ( wc is ~784 )

[ note ] : hi, it’s 1:00am and i had the sudden urge to write an angsty fic of ghost… it isn’t really proofread and english isn’t my first language too so if you see any mistakes, do tell :) anyways, enjoy!

“don’t do this,” you whisper weakly as you cup ghost’s cheeks, “please, it’s dangerous. i can’t do this… i can’t lose you. i—i won’t have that.” you look up at his face, searching for that one hint of hesitancy but his face, although tender, expressed a rigorous determination. a tear rolls down your face when you closed your eyes—hoping that when they flutter open, you’d find yourself awoken from a bad dream, a strange one because everything felt too real, but it would stay a dream nonetheless. just a bad dream.

and you’d be in ghost’s bed and he wouldn’t have a balaclava on. he would confidently wear his grin, a boyish charm on his masculine features and you would think to yourself, ‘oh, what a stud’.

and he would get up and you would too. he would make breakfast, half-naked but you couldn’t complain because he’s just beautiful. he’s flawless, gorgeous and happy.

he wouldn’t have deep white scars carved on his skin, pale as it aged. he wouldn’t have that dark eyes, heavy skin beneath them. he wouldn’t have such a tired, tired look. and he wouldn’t have such a grim name—ghost—that resembled his past, both which that are haunting. he feels haunted.

it hurt you, to think, that there could be a universe out there where everyone called him simon and he wouldn’t wince. he would turn around, casually, calmly or if it had been you who uttered his name so beautifully, he would break into a smile—but never, never a frown.

but that isn’t your reality. in this universe, he had scars that run deep. his skin had been torn apart, stitched back and so was his heart. in this universe, his name was ghost and it held such a heavy meaning, such a heavy past that when it rolled past your lips, no matter how sweet your voice calls, the sound would leave him choked and cold but save for the dim connotation, he’d rather be branded as a haunting creature than his real name—which, in his mind, held a much darker significance.

in this universe, your relationship hangs by a thread. when he’s home and all yours, the going is good and everything is great but then there would be mornings when he’d have to slip out of bed early and put his walls back around. he’d wear his mask without a question, displaying a tough attitude and delve into violence.

and there would be nights when he’d be awake, agitated and angry and sad. he’d seek for your touch and he would hold you as close as he can, only because crawling in your skin wasn’t possible. but you’d embrace him back, a silent promise of comfort and understanding.

in this universe, he’s to be deployed into a very dangerous mission. but this one’s different than the last because it made you feel like they were being fed into the black hole—sucking in their existence and you’re afraid that if he never comes back, you’d remain incomplete like a difficult puzzle someone forgot to piece together. a difficult, longing and sad puzzle.

ghost shook his head at your plea and held both of your hands that cupped his cheeks. “‘m sorry, love,” he whispers, “‘m sorry.” he couldn’t assure you even if he wanted to because it would be foolish to have you holding onto false hope. if he does die, he’d rather have you hurt but move on instead of just hurt and yearning, the empty promise he’d uttered completely wrapped around your heart like thorns.

so he won’t lie, he won’t tell you to wait. instead, he will apologise because despite wanting to be the man you deserve, he knows deep inside, he isn’t that, even if you’d argue he’s everything you could ask for and more.

he presses a long kiss on your forehead. no, it’s not enough, you thought. but then again, even when his skin touched yours, it has never been enough because losing him was ingrained at the back of your head. one minute, you’re holding him tightly, the next, he’s already disappeared, fighting for a war that only gained him losses.

and just like that, he was gone. hopefully, just out of the door but you wondered how long, really, until it’s your life too that he’s out of?

as haunting as he is, both in name and as a person, you think it suits him. he’s untouchable, easy to slip away and out of your hands. no matter how tight your grip is, he’ll just never, ever be yours.

he is a ghost.

[ellie-andthemachine]

The Rookie: Echoes of the Past

Synopsis: From oldest rookie to T.O., John Nolan takes on training the newest rookie, Officer Ellie Moore. In her first 6 months on the force, an unresolved case catches up to her, putting her survival to the ultimate test. A tale of mentorship, resilience, and facing one's demons head-on.

Character bio: Ellie Moore is 29 years old. Fresh out of the academy. Auburn/Ginger hair color, blue eyes. 5ft 3in, average weight, but weighs more than she would prefer (no lack of trying, but health issues hinder). Comes from a single mother and a younger brother. Doesn’t normally delve into her past with others, unless its warranted. Ellie is compassionate and empathetic but can also be closed off at times. Secretly deals with minor to mild depression, depending on situation (would never tell anybody in fear of being kicked out of LAPD). She considers Lucy, Nyla and Angela good friends, but even more so Nolan. She views Nolan not only as a T.O. but sees him as a father figure as well at times. Ellie was diagnosed as a carrier of Fragile-X Syndrome and is afraid of having children in the future in fears of passing on the gene.

It’s a sunny day in Los Angeles as Ellie heads to work. Windows down, music on, and volume up, the lyrics of “Can’t Take Me Anywhere” by Sam Tinnesz blare as she pulls into the station.

Parking in her usual spot, she rolls up her windows. They’re forecasting rain during her shift, and she'll be damned if she has to deal with wet seats again. In her side mirror, she notices Chen and Nolan talking at the station entrance and wonders if they saw her arrive. Getting out and locking her vehicle, she swings her bookbag straps over her arms and hurries to catch up with the others.

“Ah, good morning, Ellie,” Nolan greets her with a warm smile. “How’s my favorite rookie doing?”

“Tired. Apparently the 3 cups of coffee I’ve had this morning haven't counteracted the effects of the Benadryl I wound up taking last night. So, I’m hoping today goes like a breeze.”

“Well, I hate to be negative, but you probably just jinxed it,” Lucy grins.

Ellie rolls her eyes, chuckling, “Yeah, well, I’ll make sure to let Nell know that you're hoping for all the big and bad today, Chen.”

“Don’t you dare! Anyways, I’ll see you guys at roll call. Thorsen apparently had a date last night, and I’m curious about how it went.” Lucy heads for the doors and goes inside. Ellie and John watch her hurry inside."

“Did you have an allergic reaction to something last night?” Nolan asked, his concern evident.

“Huh? No. Why are you asking?” The question caught Ellie off guard.

“You mentioned taking Benadryl last night. Most people use it for allergic reactions. I was just curious about what you might be allergic to. It might be something worth knowing for the future as your T.O.”

“Oh,” Ellie paused, unsure how to respond, “no, I’ve just been having a hard time sleeping the last few days. I don’t do it often, usually only when I’ve had enough of struggling.”

“Is there something causing the issue?”

“Um,” she pauses again, “I, uh... it just happens occasionally. It won’t affect my work, I promise. I’ll, uh, see you in roll call.” Ellie says, making an abrupt move for the doors, leaving John watching her as she walks away.

Nolan decides to give her a moment to reach the elevators and get to their floor before heading inside himself. He makes a mental note to talk to her during patrol.

Taking her seat up front with Thorsen and the other rookie, whom she was sure would wash out within the week, Ellie observed as the more senior officers filed in.

“So, Lucy said you had a date last night. How did that go?”

“Not bad. We went to dinner and sat in my car, talking for a few hours. Natalie seems really nice, and she wants to go out again this weekend,” Aaron replied with a smile, his excitement evident as he started building a better life for himself. Most of the negativity surrounding Patrick’s death and the documentary drama had faded away, allowing him to rebuild and rebrand himself for the better.

“Good. I know you've been looking forward to it. I'm glad it went well.”

“Oh yeah. Nat and I are similar, yet so different in many ways. I'm hopeful. Of course, it's only been one date so far, so who knows? I'm curious to see where it goes.”

Ellie patted Aaron on the shoulder, saying, “So am I, dude. Keep me updated. Seriously.”

Thorsen smiled and added, “You know I will. So, how was your evening? Any fancy dates on your calendar?”

Chuckling, Ellie shook her head. “You know damn well there aren't any. Which is perfectly fine with me. I'm only six months into training; I need to stay focused to get through the rest of this twelve-month torture with Nolan.” She said the last part loudly enough for John to hear, turning in her seat and smiling to show she was joking.

“You've got this, Moore. Hell, from what people say, you're Nolan 2.0. I'd say you've got nothing to worry about.”

Ellie blushed, not entirely used to compliments, and said, “Thanks, dude. I appreciate it.”

Lucy walked in, giving Ellie and Aaron a warm smile before taking the empty seat next to Nolan.

“Hey, can I ask you something before we head out on patrol?” John asked Lucy quietly.

“Of course,” she said, looking at him with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. I'll talk to you after roll call.”

Lucy nodded.

“Alright, everybody, good morning,” Sergeant Grey's deep voice boomed as he walked in. “For once, the night shift left us with no follow-up cases. So, business as usual. Nolan and Moore, Chen and Thorsen. Harper is assisting Lopez with a case. Bradford will be in a little late. Contact me if you all have any issues. Dismissed.”

The other officers filed out of the bullpen, leaving Lucy, John, Ellie, and Aaron.

“Ellie, could you go set up our shop? I'll be along in a moment.”

Ellie nodded, saying, “Yes, sir.”

“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Aaron said, rising from his seat as well. “Hey Lucy, I'm also going to go set up ours.”

“Thanks, Aaron,” Lucy said, smiling."

Once Thorsen and Ellie had left to set up their respective shops, Lucy turned to Nolan and asked, “What’s going on?”

“Have you noticed anything different about Ellie? I'm slightly concerned about her,” Nolan replied.

“Concerned? Is something happening?” Lucy inquired, worried about her friend.

“I'm not sure. Apparently, she’s been having trouble sleeping lately. And when she mentioned taking a Benadryl last night, I asked her about it after you went inside.”

“What did she say?”

“She just mentioned she's been having trouble sleeping and was tired of struggling, so she took one,” Nolan explained. “I tried asking her to see if something's going on, but she, well, avoided discussing it. She assured me that it wouldn’t affect her during patrol,” he paused, “which, to some extent, I can agree with; it hasn't affected her work.”

“...but you're concerned it might in the future,” Lucy finished.

"Exactly."

“Look, I know as well as you that she's super private. Even with me, Nyla, and Lopez. Trust me, it hasn't gone unnoticed. We've tried to figure out ways to get her to open up, but we haven't had much luck.”

Nolan sighed. This wasn't what he had hoped for. “Thanks, Lucy. If she talks to you, could you let me know?”

“Of course. Although, you'll probably have better luck. She's basically 'Nolan 2.0',” Lucy smirked.

“You've heard that too, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Hey, it's not a bad thing. You've done well for yourself, and maybe she will too.”

Nolan chuckled, “Yeah, maybe.”

“We should get going. Good luck out there today. Call us if you need backup.”

“Hey, you too.”

Lucy and John headed for their shops, grabbing the assigned body cameras on their way.

“Alright, Rookie, you’re behind the wheel today. Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellie replied, taking the keys from Nolan and getting into the driver’s seat. “Think we’ll have an eventful day?”

"Who knows? It’s LA, a city full of crazies. I wouldn’t doubt it,” Nolan responded.

Ellie nodded.

The silence in the car lasted for only two minutes.

“Alright, so you didn’t take Benadryl for allergies. What are you allergic to?” Nolan asked, curious.

“Not much, really. At least, I don’t think so. Just mold; I can’t have Bactrim or dilauded. Pet dander used to affect me a lot, but it hasn’t since I got Gracie. My mother was allergic to penicillin, but I seem to have lucked out there,” Ellie explained. “I guess if anything ever happens, just make sure EMTs don’t use dilauded on me,” she shrugged.

“Why? What happens if they do?”

“The first time, we thought it was a normal reaction. The second time,” she paused, “the second time, we knew it wasn’t. It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I couldn’t talk or really breathe. It was like an out-of-body experience. If you can imagine it, I felt like I was watching myself lying in the hospital bed. Turns out, it stopped my heart for a moment. Scary stuff.”

Nolan absorbed everything Ellie shared. “I'm so sorry that happened to you. I'll make sure you're never given it if I can help it.”

Ellie nodded, driving quietly for a moment. “Thank you. Not many people know about it. I mean, it's in my file, but…”

“…but you haven’t discussed your experiences. I understand. I appreciate you sharing that with me; I can imagine it wasn’t easy.”

“Not really. But I trust you.”

“Thank you. I trust you, too.”

“7-Adam-15, a domestic dispute call. The address is being sent to your box.”

Nolan picked up the mic to respond, “7-Adam-15, show us responding..”

“So much for an uneventful day.”

So, please be gentle. I haven't written anything in YEARS. Also, I've spent the last 2 weeks binge watching The Rookie. BTW Nathan Fillion is cute as hell. Anyways, I am looking for a beta, if anybody is interested!

Also, I hope I did all this right. I don't usually post on Tumblr! -_-

[tasmparkerr]

The Snake: Pt 1

Sebastian Sallow x MC

word count: 2.6k

summary: Sebastian Sallow was arrested in Fifth year after the murder of his uncle, now he's returned to Hogwarts for his Seventh year after tricking the ministry into thinking he's innocent. This story follows Maeve Caillouet (MC) through the struggles of her final year at Hogwarts as she tries to handle her past traumas, a Weasley and a Sallow, her best friends Ominis and Anne, as dark magic begins to sprout once again and escaping Death becomes a lot harder. warnings: foul language, angsty stuff

A/N: ope not me posting something, it may not be smut and I may be heading towards a HL fixation but oh well, thought I’d post something that I’ve been writing for shits and giggles maybe I’ll do more, maybe I’ll ignore this account again for a year lol who knows

————————————————————————

It has been two years since Sebastian Sallow was arrested for the murder of his uncle. Not a day has passed without his name crossing my mind. So much has happened since that fateful day.

The memories of that day flood my mind...

. . .

"No! You can't! He's innocent! He's fucking innocent!" I screamed, desperately struggling against the grasp of a Ministry official. "I know he didn't do it. He's a good person, he didn't fucking do it!"

But the truth was, I was lying. I was there when he committed the act.

Yet, I didn't care. I couldn't let them take him away. I couldn't.

Sebastian's eyes held a hollow emptiness as I saw him for the last time. They conveyed so much yet nothing at all. A sad smile played on his lips, a bittersweet farewell.

Just then, Ominis appeared, panting from running. "Oh, Merlin... Sebastian..." he whispered, anguish evident on his face.

I kicked and twisted, refusing to give up. "I will fucking-"

"Maeve," Professor Fig's voice rang out above the commotion, "Stop it. Stop it now."

I stared at him, bewildered. I wasn't going to stop. I was standing by Sebastian, I was there. They didn't know the whole story. They weren't there. Maybe if I...

Professor Fig's eyes flashed with a warning, tapping his temple.

Oh.

If I revealed the truth, that I was there, they would take me in as well. They might want to extract my memories to uncover everything, including the ancient magic. It would put the world at risk and potentially ruin everything.

Sobs shook my body as I succumbed to the overwhelming sense of defeat. The Ministry official released his grip, and I crumpled to my knees. Tears fell onto the cold stone floor of Hogwarts.

"Get away from her," Ominis's voice warned, and I felt his cold hand on my shoulder as he knelt beside me. "It's alright... It's okay. It's going to be okay..."

"No, no, no... He's..." I sobbed, my whole body trembling.

One of the Ministry men cleared his throat. "Alright... I know it's an emotional moment, but we must be off. We can't keep Azkaban waiting."

A surge of rage and hatred coursed through me. His name burned into my mind—Zephyr Mumblethorn. I would never forget his face. Witnessing his magic binding Sebastian's hands together ignited an indescribable bloodlust within me. One day, he would pay for what he had done.

"Sebastian... Sebastian, I promise I'll take care of Anne. I will find her, and I won't let her die. I swear. I will never stop. I swear," I called out to him.

He gave me one last soft glance, and then he was gone. Aspirated from the room. All that remained were Professor Fig, Ominis, and a few lingering students.

I never heard Sebastian say the word 'goodbye.'

. . .

Now, it was the first day of our seventh year at Hogwarts. It was also Anne's first year back.

Walking by my side, her brunette hair longer than when she was last in school, I had braided it delicately to keep it away from her face. She grew stronger with each passing day.

Finding a cure for Anne had been a challenge. Ominis and I had started searching the day Sebastian was taken. We delved into books that mentioned curses, even those unrelated to Anne's condition.

We pored over every healing book, every potions book—everything we could find in the library. But we found nothing.

It wasn't until we looked beyond Hogwarts that we discovered something—a magical item. It was a necklace with a shining diamond at its center. Legend had it that it was one of the most powerful enchanted items ever created. It emanated a protective spell for the wearer, guarding against curses, harmful potions, and poisons. Basically, anything that wasn't a physical attack.

Once we found Anne hiding in an abandoned home on a desolate farmland, we explained everything that had happened and gave her the necklace. As soon as she put it on, the diamond transformed into an emerald green color.

Since then, she has been cured. We don't know what would happen if she took it off, so she never did, and she never will. Anne was destined to live a long life.

But I didn't stop there. I took Anne in.

We lived in a small home outside Hogsmeade. I found a job at the Three Broomsticks, working with Sirona Ryan, who pays me generously for the summer. I also work on weekends during the school year.

Anne works at J. Pippins' shop, following the same schedule as me. Pippins adores her, and her skills have enhanced the quality of his work, boosting his business.

We made our lives work. We took care of each other. And now, we were returning to school together.

As students, both new and returning, streamed into the dining hall, we found our places at the Slytherin table, right next to Ominis. His cloudy eyes brightened when he heard us sit down.

"Hello, Ominis. It's Maeve and Anne," I greeted, pleased to see our friend.

Ominis's face instantly lit up. "Ah, my sweet girls. Welcome back to Hogwarts, especially you, Anne. How does it feel? Are you excited?"

Anne blushed and replied, "Yes, I'm excited, but also nervously anxious. I'm so far behind."

I chuckled, recalling the same feeling when I was a new fifth year. "Oh, I understand. You'll be fine. Omi and I will help you catch up. If needed, I'll speak to Professor Weasley to adjust your schedule, ensuring that at least one of us is with you in every class."

She smiled gratefully, nodding her thanks.

Anne had never fully warmed up to me, and I couldn't blame her. She held me partially responsible for the death of her uncle. I understood her feelings, and if she asked, I would openly admit that I would do it all over again.

I would do anything for him. I would do anything for Sebastian.

His name remained unspoken between us. We hadn't uttered it since that day. The pain was still too raw, too unbearable.

A pair of lips suddenly pressed against my cheek, startling me. I relaxed as I saw Gareth, someone who had been trying to court me since our fifth year. We had gone on a couple of dates, but I hadn't been sure if it counted as dating. Nevertheless, Gareth was sweet, caring, and respectful. We enjoyed each other's company, though I didn't feel the same depth of connection as I did with Sebastian.

"Gareth, how nice to see you. How was your trip to your grandparents?" I inquired.

He smiled and took a seat next to me. "Oh, it was wonderful. The states are unbelievable—so different from here. My grandparents plan to stay there permanently. You should have seen it—the hills, the culture... it's brilliant. The muggles there are a different breed of humans! Maybe next summer I can take you with me?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. Thankfully, Headmaster Black's clearing of the throat signaled the start of the sorting ceremony.

Gareth gave me a small smile and rushed back to his table. I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Ominis chuckled.

"When will you let that puppy off his leash? It's not fair to string him along," Ominis commented.

I crinkled my nose. "Yeah, I know. It's just... I don't know. I don't mind him. He's kind, caring, and treats me well, but he's just not..."

Anne shifted uncomfortably beside me. Ominis's lips curved into a sad smile. "He's not who you truly desire. I understand. Believe me, I can only handle so much conversation with Imelda Reyes before wanting to lose my hearing as well."

I smiled, my eyes briefly darting toward Imelda's bitter face. Ever since I beat her flying record, she had despised me. I giggled at the memory.

Ominis brightened at the sound of my laughter. He had taken it upon himself to ensure my well-being, a silent promise made to Sebastian I was sure of it. I had sworn to take care of Anne, and Ominis had made the same commitment to me. I would never forget everything he did for me during our fifth year. The thought of it still sent shivers down my spine.

We happily consumed the feast laid out before us as the first-year students were sorted into their respective houses, the three of us half-heartedly cheering for the brand-new Slythrins. The whole room erupted in gasps and cheers, and I found myself searching for the cause.

"What did I miss?" I asked, my head shooting up.

Ominis stared ahead, his interest piqued. "Quidditch is back this year. Oh, I wonder... It's going to be an interesting year. And it's our last one? How exciting," he mused.

I had never experienced a Quidditch match. My mood lifted, realizing that this year would bring something new. Perhaps Quidditch would become my new distraction.

Anne seemed indifferent, poking at her pudding. We were quickly dismissed and made our way to the Slytherin common room.

Deep within the dungeons of Hogwarts, accessible through a hidden entrance, lies the Slytherin common room. Once inside, it exudes a distinct and memorable atmosphere.

The Slytherin common room is located deep within the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, accessible through the hidden entrance. Once inside, the common room presents its distinct and memorable atmosphere.

The room itself is a spacious, low-ceilinged chamber, adorned with emerald green and silver accents. The walls are made of rough-hewn stone, giving the room an ancient and somewhat foreboding feel. The light is provided by dimly lit sconces that cast eerie shadows across the room, creating an ambiance of secrecy and mystique.

Plush, comfortable sofas and armchairs upholstered in rich green velvet are arranged in small conversational clusters, creating a sense of exclusivity. Dark wooden bookcases line the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes and ancient scrolls, showcasing the house's emphasis on knowledge and cunning.

The room is adorned with various symbols and decorations that represent Slytherin's traits and values. A large silver serpent sculpture coils sinuously around a marble fireplace, its glowing eyes and flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. The snake symbol can be found throughout the room, engraved on the chair legs, woven into tapestries, and even etched onto the grand oak door that leads to the dormitories.

A massive bay window showcases the Black Lake, offering a breathtaking view of the dark waters and the aquatic life that lives inside it. The window is adorned with emerald green curtains that billow gently in the wind, allowing soft moonlight to filter into the room.

I soaked in the familiarity of the common room, the familiar smell of spices and firewood seeping into my lungs. It was always bittersweet coming back here. The memories were almost too much but it was better than living at the shitty small cottage outside Hogsmeade. Even Anne seemed relieved to have such a comfortable space.

I took in the familiar surroundings, the comforting scent of spices and firewood filling the air. Returning to the common room was always bittersweet. The memories were almost too much to bear, but it was still preferable to living in the small cottage outside Hogsmeade. Even Anne seemed relieved to have a comfortable space.

Ominis waved his wand, taking in the surroundings with a contented smile. "Alright, let's change and meet back here in half an hour. We need to compare schedules and make a plan for this year's activities and studies."

Ah, Ominis's annual debrief and game plan. I had been introduced to it last year when he took me under his wing.

Anne chuckled, "Oh god, you still do that? Can't it wait until the Undercroft?"

Ominis looked offended. "Absolutely not! Having a game plan and being on the same page is crucial for ultimate success!"

"Alright, alright... We'll change and meet back. I promise, Omi. We'll be quick," I teased, nodding toward the witch's dormitory. "Come on, Anne."

She followed me up to our room, located conveniently next to each other. We changed swiftly, and as I glanced at Anne. She's a girl with soft features, her face exuding a delicate beauty. Her skin is pale, lending an ethereal quality to her appearance.

Her eyes, a deep shade of brown, have a sunken-in quality that adds a touch of exhaustion to her gaze. Long, flowing brunette hair cascades down her back, framing her face in a captivating manner. She had continued to sport her chopped bangs.

As for her attire, she chose an emerald green nightgown that drapes gracefully around her figure. The fabric is silky and smooth, shimmering ever so slightly in the light. The gown is designed with intricate details, perhaps delicate lace trimmings or subtle patterns of snakes, going down to her knees.

If only she had freckles, she would look just like her twin brother.

My chest twisted. It always did when I looked at Anne for too long.

Turning my attention to the mirror, I beheld my own reflection. Silky black hair flowed in natural waves, cascading down my shoulders and framing my face. The light caught the glossy strands, giving them a shimmering quality.

My bright green eyes, like emerald gems, captured attention with their vibrant hue. Anne often expressed her envy, but I always found them to be a distraction, drawing peculiar comments from others.

Taking in my petite yet curvy figure, I felt a mix of pride and frustration. Anne had made remarks about my body, expressing her desire to look like me, but I brushed it off. While I knew I possessed attractiveness, I didn't believe I deserved to be idolized.

As for my attire, I had chosen a simple and comfortable ensemble. A gray tank top hugged my figure gently, showcasing my slender arms. The soft fabric felt soothing against my skin. Paired with it, I wore emerald green sweatpants that added vibrant energy to my outfit. The rich green color provided a pleasing contrast.

Gazing at my reflection, my eyes fell upon a mesmerizing snake tattoo that elegantly wound its way up my spine. The intricate design began at the base, just above the small of my back, and coiled upward with sinuous grace. The back of my tank top dipped low enough to reveal the initial section of the tattoo.

The tattoo itself was a work of art, its details vivid and lifelike. The scales of the snake were meticulously etched, creating a textured pattern that gave the illusion of real skin.

The snake's body twisted and turned, following the natural contours of my spine. Its lithe form seemed to move with an illusion of life, forever coiling and uncoiling on my skin.

The colors of the tattoo were captivating. Shades of emerald green and deep, rich black blended seamlessly, forming a striking contrast. The green shimmered and glimmered, catching the light, while the black added depth and intensity to the design.

I had gotten the tattoo at the end of my fifth year, as a tribute to my house and my journey. It represented my pride, the hardships endured, and the ancient magic within me. The snake symbolized the cunning and ambition that Slytherin valued.

A sigh escaped my lips as I stretched my arms above my head. Anne sat on her bed, crossing her arms. "Are you done yet? Ominis can't even see you, so who cares if your hair is perfect?"

I laughed. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if his wand could sense the state of my hair. Plus, it would be rude to show up looking disheveled."

Anne smiled. "You sound just like my mother."

We descended back into the common room, where a small group of people had gathered. Among them was Headmaster Black and... his face. My breath caught in my throat, and the air rushed out in a single gasp.

It was Zephyr Mumblethorn.

"Are you sure he's innocent?" Headmaster Black asked, his hands resting on his hips.

Mumblethorn shrugged. "There's no evidence. The investigators at Azkaban couldn't find anything. No proof. We can't keep an eighteen-year-old imprisoned without evidence. He insists it was an Inferius. Swore it under Veritaserum."

Headmaster Black nodded. "Alright... Sallow! Get in here!"

To be continued...

[fanfictasia]

Comfortember Day 28

Flashbacks

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Eyes of the Dragon

“The sun dragon is a beast that lives inside a star, guarding everything it treasures. Nothing could hurt it. Not fire, not flame. It survived through the most impossible circumstances, even life in the core of a star. Because the sun-dragon had the biggest heart in the galaxy, a burning furnace powerful enough to protect everything and everyone it loved.”

It was a story that carried a far deeper meaning than those who heard it as nothing but a fleeting fairytale. It was also a promise, a reassurance, and more than that, a light to guide him on the darkest night. Anakin could understand that even if he was only four. He understood the hidden message most of all because his mother didn’t have to tell him that he was the sun dragon for him to know that.

It was an energy that hummed beneath his skin, a constant burning knowledge, and whenever he delved deep enough into that… energy around him, that energy – whatever it was that helped him feel things, sense things before they happened, something that always surprised the other slave children – he would feel himself, shifting, transforming. He was the sun dragon, because a real dragon was hidden in his heart, every moment, even if no one knew it but his mother.

Anakin squirms around in Shmi’s arms, trying to get a better look at the dark sky above them, stars dotting the endless expanse. Nal Hutta was never pretty like this at night.

“Why do the moons like funny?” he asks, eyes wide as he watches the usual brilliant light of the two largest moons transforming into something dark, fading to a pinkish red glow.

“They’re the eyes of the sun dragon,” Shmi replies, smiling faintly.

“It watching us,” Anakin says, brightening.

“It watches over all of us.”

“I be like it someday,” he insists, a determination burning inside of him as fierce as the dragon that constantly hums under his skin. He will, and no one will ever hurt his mother or any of his friends again, once he’s bigger.

“You already are like it,” she reminds, softly.

“It doesn’t hide,” Anakin objects, staring up at the red moons – eyes of the dragon. No one can know what he is, that he’s a real sun dragon, or the slavers will hurt him. Or they’ll sell him away from his mother, and he can’t let that happen.

“When the sun dragon was small, it couldn’t reveal itself as openly as it is now. Even if it’s hard was just as powerful. In time, Ani, you won’t have.to hide.”

Anakin still remembers every moment of that conversation, even sixteen years later. Whether she had said those words because she truly believed them or because she was trying to comfort him when he was scared and lost, he… still hasn’t found the point she’s promised yet.

He’s spent his entire life hiding, because he’s too scared to do anything more. That’s even more true now in some ways than it ever was before.

But it’s still a reassurance he can turn to, whenever he truly needs it, which is… much of time.

[theenchantedecho]

MINISTRY MELEE: BARTY CROUCH SR. BEWITCHES THE WIZENGAMOT!

Steeped in scandal and simmering speculation, the usually staid corridors of the Ministry of Magic are a veritable cauldron of whispers and wonderment. The Minister of Magic, Barty Crouch Sr., whose political manoeuvres hold more surprises than a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, has unrolled a parchment of shocking revelations. His latest spell of audacity? An ambitious expansion of the Wizengamot, our time-honoured court of law and legislative body. This bold move has left the wizarding world more stirred up than a perturbed nest of Puffskeins.

The bewitching question on everyone's lips is, why the sudden expansion? When cornered by my trusty Quick-Quotes Quill, Crouch, in a torrent of grandiloquent rhetoric, avowed his intent "to bring in a fresh perspective and fortify the institution's ability to maintain peace and order in these trying times." Now isn't that a charmingly altruistic sentiment? One can't help but sniff the faint but unmistakable scent of political manipulation wafting from such noble intent.

To fully appreciate this unfolding drama, let's take a moment to delve into the depths of Wizengamot's illustrious history. Predating even the Ministry of Magic itself, the Wizengamot's roots dig deep into the heart of the medieval Wizards' Council. Its ceremonial robes of plum and silver, bearing an ornate W, are as much a symbol of our tradition as the Sorting Hat itself.

The Wizengamot, more than just a court of law, is our legislative body. With about fifty members, whose selection process remains as elusive as the secrets of the Chamber, it's an intriguing institution, to say the least. Trials are swift and final, offering no room for appeal, making the identities of these new prospective members all the more significant.

The Ministry's marble halls buzz louder than a hive of enchanted bees as rumours dart around like mischievous Nifflers. My sources, as shadowy as the Forbidden Forest and equally as tantalizing, suggest that the new appointees may have closer ties to our Minister than a Hippogriff to its nest. Could this be the beginning of a Crouch dynasty? Or a simple refresh of perspectives? Only time, and Rita Skeeter, will tell.

Sensing the urgency of my relentless pursuit of the truth, an anonymous Ministry official (yes, Cornelius Fudge, we see through your cloak of anonymity), whispered in my ear, "It's a dangerous game of Gobstones being played in the Wizengamot. Keep your eyes peeled and your wits about you." In the echoes of the Minister's office, the Sorting Hat's chilling words resonate: "Those cunning folks use any means, to achieve their ends." Could this be prophecy taking shape?

Meanwhile, for our passionate puzzle aficionados, keep your Spectrespecs ready! Tomorrow's Daily Prophet features a special Wizengamot-themed crossword. Can you, through a labyrinth of cryptic clues, discern the identities of the future members of our esteemed court? Gird your wands, dear readers, the game is afoot!

For the symbol savants amongst you, we present a magical game based on court emblems and Wizengamot seals. These, my fabulous readers, are the heralds of change and innovation.

Stay tuned, dear readers. I, Rita Skeeter, your audacious correspondent, am on the case. I promise to delve deeper, to push past the obscurity, to reveal the truth, the intrigue, the pure

scandal hidden beneath the surface of this Ministry maelstroöm. Brace yourselves, for the best version of the truth is yet to come. It's juicier, it's wickedly fascinating, and it's the only truth that you won't want to put down.

Until our quills meet again, I will continue to lift the veil of secrecy on the world's most enthralling mysteries. The wizarding world turns, and with it, the Daily Prophet, offering you the first, the last, the only word on the enchanting and enigmatic world of magic. Keep the magic alive, my spellbinding readers! Stay curious, stay vigilant, and above all, stay enchanted.