#youre welcome my dear its been a pleasure loving them

[brownfrogs]

Hi! Is it weird that I find comfort in your love for Yeehan? Like it's obvious that you like and appreciate all ships, but the fact that you love them enough to create so many AUs with them and give them happy, domestic lives is so sweet and makes me unbelieavably happy. Thank you for loving them.

No its not weird!! Its actually very sweet of you to say 💖🥰 I do love and respect a lot of ships, but there’s just something bout Yeehan that gets the imagination going. I guess it might be their backgrounds are so universal you can plop em anywhere and it’d work. Or maybe, it’s their personalities clashing together to find harmony. Or just maybe, its inherently funny to see these anachronistic goofy men live a domestic life fighting over which soap dispenser to get for their bathroom.

[starrydragoness]

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI! More under the cut

Content: soft sex, creampie, cockwarming, pretty vanilla tbh, live laugh love dragon man, wrote this sleep deprived and didn't proof read, so if there are any grammar errors I'll fix them later, trust.

“Come up here-” 

Jiyan panted, breathy words falling from his lips with effort as he fought down soft sounds of pleasure as he grinded his hips into yours. His hand cups around your nape and brings you into his lips, reddened and bruised as they were - he needed more, more of you, more of your taste and touch and love. The unending well of need is insatiable, always open to welcome you in and swallow you whole, cradling you against his chest.

A thin sheen of sweat sits on top of his skin, his chest rising rapidly with each short breath, and you slowly squirm, pushing his shoulders down so he is now laying on his back and you throw one leg over his hip, effectively straddling him. From here, you have quite the sight of the General of the Midnight Rangers, lying beneath you, and so pliant to your affections, but most importantly - he is your dear husband, one you missed too much and all of that love is coming to boil over at this very moment. 

You lean down, kissing across his collarbone, climbing your way up to his neck and you can feel him suck in a breath as you graze your teeth across his pulse point. Your teeth leave faint little red marks across his pale skin, lips sucking here and there until purple blooms in soft petals. His hands are pawing at your sides, feeling your warm flesh in his palms before he claws down at your hips, pushing you  down against his length that is stuck between your two naked bodies, your naked cunt grinding against it. It feels like it has been ages since you began teasing and feeling one another up, taking off clothing, piece by piece until both of you were desperate for more and more.

“Love- hah.. “ Jiyan curls his fingers into your hips, his head thrown back onto the messy bed with covers strewn about.  “Let me feel you- no more teasing” he whispers into your ear and you couldn’t agree more. Sitting upright you gaze into those eyes of molten gold, looking up at you as if you were the work of finest marble and divinity. Embodiment of beauty and peace.

Jiyan’s lips parted slightly, eyes glued to yours until your line of sight led him down to your wet hole. He swallows the lump in his throat as you take his shaft in your hand, pushing yourself up to your knees before guiding his tip to your hole, all while his hands anxiously massage up and down the  sides of your thighs, anticipating eating him up alive. And once you finally sink down his eyes roll back into his head, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your warm walls squeezing him and welcoming him in. A guttural moan rumbles through his throat and he can’t help but buck into you, and the next thrust has your hands sprawled ontop of his chest, searching for stability as he began to fuck himself into you.

He was nothing if not careful, attentive, he still wanted to appreciate you and show you how much he has missed you too, yet as both of you began to lose yourselves in carnal desires, he found himself getting rougher. 

Each thrust had your tits bouncing, right in his face. Your pretty and glazed eyes looking down at him with all adoration one could hold, and your flushed  face and reddened lips threw him in a daze. He was hypnotized. Enarmored.

“My love- you feel so good, you have n-no idea how much I missed you” he groaned  after pushing himself into you to the hilt, simultaneously pulling you down and for a moment he went still, savoring the fluttering of your walls around him. You moaned his name, lust clouding not only your vision but your thoughts as well. So drunk on him.

One of his hands travels up your sides leaving warmth in its wake, trailing all the way up to your shoulder and then down to cup one of your hands in his, pulling it up, towards his lips until he could kiss your palm. He ruts into you all the while, another lingering kiss following the first one before his teeth nip at the inside of your wrist. 

You can feel your insides burning, slick oozing out of your hole and coating his shaft with each thrust. You can feel him so deep within that it drives you mad, making you cry out for him. And he hears you loud and clear, half lidded eyes drinking you in like the finest liquor. 

The hand that held yours flew down to where your bodies joined together, finding your clit and rubbing it in the rhythm of your thrusts, sending electric shocks up your core, all through your spine and up to your shoulders and down to your toes. Whining you squirm on top of him, both of you losing your rhythm as the tension in your bellies threatens to burst.

“Mmm- I’m so close, Jiyan” you mewled, and goodness, your voice alone was enough to make him chase that high with even more fervor. 

“I know, love, I know- come with me..hah.. look at me. Oh, how beautiful you are-” he muses out loud, a flicker of a smile lighting up his lustful eyes as pounds into you from below, pushing moan after moan out of you, making you sing for him.

Your orgasm blinds you, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins as your muscles seized and your walls spasmed as Jiyan filled your greedy hole, spurting deep within you until he had nothing more to give. His face became more red before he released a throaty groan, his own muscles finally slacking from the intense orgasm, just in time to wrap his arms around you after you collapsed onto his chest. His cock remained buried within you even as it grew soft, comforted by the heat and slick. 

The two of you panted, working slowly but desperately to catch your breath. His calloused hands traced up and your naked back,  holding you close to him. 

“I love you.. mm.. I love you so much” you coo at him, picking your head up only to place several kisses along his jaw before kissing his sweet lips. A kiss he gladly returns despite the faint burning in his lungs. “I love you too, dearest” he breathed back,  watching you settle your head against his chest, hearing the quick drumming of his heart. 

Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[makeyoumine69]

i would love to see more jealous patrick ❤️😫

Hello, dear anon!💗

Ohhh, jealous Patrick is a thing!

In the middle of dinner with Bateman's family in Dorsia, the reservation Patrick had been trying to get all week, you needed a moment to powder your nose. On your way back to your table, you were playing with the ring Patrick had gifted you a week ago—a huge gem shone on it whenever you rolled it between your fingers—but when you were distracted by the waiter, you accidentally dropped the ring, and if the stranger hadn't caught it, it would have rolled across the floor to God only knew where.

"Oh, thank you so much!" You beamed and smiled as the unfamiliar but handsome man returned the ring.

"It's nothing, really." He replied, examining you curiously from head to toe.

Such attention made you embarrassed, but then you felt a burning sensation between your shoulders. When you turned around, you locked your confused gaze with Bateman's, his hazel eyes piercing through yours like sharp daggers.

"Uh, thanks again! But I have to go!" With these words you walked away from the stranger before he could tell you something else.

Sheepishly you approached the table where Patrick, his parents and his brother Sean with his date were waiting for you. And even though Bateman's face was devoid of emotion, the moment you took your seat, his large palm found its way to your inner thigh in the blink of an eye.

"So, who was that guy?" He whispered in your ear, leaning closer so only you could hear. "And why was he touching you?"

You let out a shaky breath and smiled politely over Mrs. Bateman's comment that she was glad you were finally back. "What?" You asked bewilderedly without looking at the man next to you. "I just dropped my ring."

"You dropped the ring?" Patrick almost chuckled, his hand diving deeper between your legs under the table, forcing you to grab it to keep him from going any further. "Forgot how to wear a ring, sunshine?" The man took the opportunity to nip at your neck while everyone at the table was busy with each other. "When we get home, I'll remind you… I'll remind you of everything."

His skillful fingers reached beneath your skirt no matter how hard you tried to stop them. Now, they were brazenly playing with the lace of your panties and perfectly hiding beneath the soft material of your dress.

"Patrick," you gasped, gripping the table to stifle a moan as Bateman pressed his thumb against your blushing clit. "Please," your pathetic pleas only brought a broad grin to his smug face. "Stop."

And then Patrick's mother asked you a question you couldn't even hear as your whole body was focused on the rising tension in your lower abdomen as the man was relentless in his intentions to work you up.

"Excuse me…could you please repeat your question? You asked, completely awkward.

Patrick smirked arrogantly and leaned back in his chair. "She asked if you liked the food," he muttered mockingly, before shoving his two digits into your oozing pussy. "Believe me, Mother, she is enjoying the evening. Am I right, honey?"

Paralyzed, you were about to explode at how shamelessly Bateman was behaving, literally fingering you in front of his family. Biting your lower lip for a second, you tried to take a sip of mineral water, but the man wouldn't let you as he intensified his ministrations, curling his fingers to stimulate that spongy spot inside you that made you grip the surface of the table once again.

"Yes…everything is perfect," you managed to blurt out, sensing the cool metal of his Rolex gliding along your hot skin, the contrast only heightening the pleasure. "Thank you, Patrick."

"You're welcome, darling," the man chirped, leaning closer to peck your cheek in an affectionate, pretending way, only to purr into your ear. "Tonight I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't even remember your own name." And with that, Bateman sat back, looking cheeky as ever, as he felt your inner walls contracting around his fingers once he began to rub your little bud with his thumb.

Mrs. Bateman couldn't help but smile. "Oh, you two are so adorable! Such a loving couple."

With a soft chuckle, Patrick grinned in pure delight. "Thank you. We really are."

Bastard.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

International Affair

Welcome to my shameless self-insert series🤭 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Last

Reader Description: Masculine style, They/He, AFAB, International Student, 20 Years Old. Sometimes will be describe using masculine terms (man, boy, handsome, etc)

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x InternationalStudent!Reader

Warnings: Specified age gap (Wanda is 34).

Summary: For their summer break, Y/n decided to spend it in a little town called Westview. It was there when they met Wanda Maximoff. A woman in her 30s with two kids, who seems to be attracted to the college student despite being married.

New York University's tuition was fucking ass. It really is, at a whopping $64,000 tuition fee per year. And that's only the tuition fee, the total estimate of studying in NYU plus living cost was probably over $90,000. Exactly it's fucking insane. Despite receiving a sponsorship from their parent's good friend and also financial aid from NYU, he still needed to figure out how to pay it back.

Sometimes they feel like smacking their head for choosing to study in a city where it's known for its back bank breaking living cost. Can you blame him though? Those tall buildings, shining lights, bustling nightlife, sounds of gunshots, and a huge opportunity for a creative person such as themselves, along with a dash of capitalism. Y/n couldn't help but be fascinated. That American dream that he had been chasing since he saw the Devil Wears Prada.

It was now summer vacation. Instead of going home for the summer, Y/n decided to join this Homeshare Summer program. Basically an elderly person provides home for students to share during the summer. The benefits are plenty, but most notably, cheaper housing rent. His roommates also joined this program, together they sublease their apartment. Adding extra funds to their breaking bank account.

In return, the students must help their elderly host with basic domestic needs. Mostly light household tasks; preparing and sharing meals, tidying up, chores, walking a pet, etc.

Y/n ended up matching with someone in a small town called Westview somewhere in New Jersey. As much as he loves New York, he wanted to spend his summer somewhere else in America.

He matched with a lovely widow named Melina Vostokoff. He learned that she has 2 daughters, both whom are adults with their own respective career. She needed a companion, understandably so, and Y/n was more than happy to assist her in anyway she might need.

"Y/n." Melina called.

"Yes, Mrs. Vostokoff?" Y/n looked up from their laptop, they were sitting on the dinner table editing some footage.

"Oh dear, please, I told you to call me Melina."

"Sorry, Melina. Force of habit." He said with a smile. "What's up?"

"Would you please send all this batches of cookies around the neighborhood? I already have a list of houses on where you can drop them." Melina is known for sharing batches of cookies for free around the neighborhood. Why? Out of kindness.

And also the fact that she loves baking, but ended up not being able to finish it all. So she shares them around the neighborhood.

"Sure, Melina! I'll do that right away."

So he sets of to drop off delicious dessert for Westview citizens. Melina had told them that this was a good chance to ask around for a summer job as well. Which is what he had initially planned to do anyway. Finally they reached the last house, Maximoff Household. They weren't so lucky with the other neighbors, but last one's a charm right? He rang the doorbell.

A person then opens the door. "Hello, I was just-" Holyfucking shit. This woman was absolutely gorgeous.

"May I help you?" She ask, god her voice is sexy.

"Uhhh..." Snap out of it! "Sorry! I'm Y/n, I'm the student staying over the summer at Mrs. Vostokoff. She told me to drop off her Bi-Weekly batches of cookies."

Wanda wasn't stupid, she noticed their nervousness and found it adorable. "Lovely to meet you, Y/n. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff." She offered her hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Maximoff." He shook her hand.

"Do you go to Westview University?" She was rather intrigued by the younger one.

"No, ma'am. I actually go to NYU, I'm studying film production."

Wanda raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How impressive. Though I must ask, why choose to spend your summer here?"

Damn... her smile.

"Mainly a much cheaper living cost, other than that I figured It'll be good for me to explore other parts of America. New Jersey is not far so it's a good place to start."

"Ah, an International student I see. Is it one of those Homeshare programs?"

"It is!" The student beamed.

What a charming smile he has, Wanda thought to herself. "Say, how old are you, Y/n." She ask while leaning against the door frame, her tone was... rather flirty.

"Um... I'll be turning 21 this year." Wanda hummed at the answer. For what reason Y/n doesn't know either. "Here are your cookies, ma'am." Well shit, he was getting nervous again. Obviously, Wanda staring at him with a look he can't quite pin.

"Oh! Thank you, dear. My sons absolutely love Melina's cookies." She took the container from them.

"Well that's no surprise, I could live off from those cookies alone." They said while laughing lightly. "So I take it you've lived here for a while?"

"Yes, I've lived here for years with my twin boys and husband." Damn it, they thought. "Anything you would like to know?"

"Yes actually! I've been looking for a summer job, but I haven’t had any luck."

"Well, lucky for you, a friend of mine who owns the Cafe in town is looking for a new Barista. She just recently opened the position."

"That's great news! Thank you so much for letting me know, Mrs. Maximoff." They said with a smile, Wanda had another idea in mind.

"However, I think they're only offering part-time. If you're looking for some extra work, I may need a few... help around the house. Would you be interested?" She asked with a devilish smile.

Y/n, being too excited at the possibility of finally landing a job, failed to notice the flirty undertone in Wanda's sentence. "Absolutely!"

"Splendid! Come over to my house tomorrow and we'll discuss the details."

"I will see you tomorrow, Mrs. Maximoff. Thank you again!" The young man said with a bright smile, he started walking backwards onto the sidewalk.

"See you tomorrow, Y/n." Once they turned their backs on her, Wanda bit her lip. She had multiple things in mind for Y/n to help her with.

I did a quick research on the law of international students working in the US. I didn't get into detail but it basically said yes but there are restrictions. So ignore the actual laws, and y'know just - whatever man it's a fanfic :') When I saw the estimated cost of studying in NYU i almost cried-

Also I hope you guys don’t mind I go with a more masculine reader for this one (i really want to be called a good boy by Wanda)

I hope the reader description doesn’t confuse you guys, if it does. Its ok, i self inserted myself and im very confused abt my gender-

[averageallogene]

hi! ive been thinking abt this for a while but could you do lyney x mermaid! reader 🩷

Lyney ♡⊹˚  Solace [SFW]

fem. reader (3rd person) ; fluffy fluff with a side of hurt/comfort, just because Lyney deserves the love :( ♡ ; reader is a mermaid! cw for diving (in case of any phobias!) ; Also mild spoilers of Act I of the first Fontaine Archon Quest. 

3k words.

notes. Hi dear anon! ♡ Your wish is my command. Lyney with a mermaid reader is such a sweet idea, my fingers just began flying across the keyboard <3. I went with a fem. reader this time, I hope that's okay! If not, don't be shy to request a gn! version and I'll see what I can do. I hope you enjoy! ✧˖°.

The crowd cheered wildly, a standing ovation following as the pair extended their arms. Embracing the whistles and the praise was a reward the magicians were more than welcoming towards, even if reacting in different ways. A deep bow followed suit, the clapping growing louder, the cheering continuing for long minutes straight. The wooden floor boards beneath them even trembled, the mere satisfaction of their audience being utterly felt by the two even as they finally were released from the spotlight as the curtain slowly descended. 

Lyney and Lynette had remained there, hands held together, him smiling and her remaining elegantly still up until they were no longer faced with their crowd. It was only after the maroon fabric concealed them that they could finally relax their muscles, their hands lowering before letting their breath go freely. Another show was successful, much to their pleasure. 

"Good work, dear Lynette." He'd congratulated his brilliant sister, smiling with pride whilst attempting to conceal the way he was tired. It was unsuccessful, yet his sister didn't comment on it.

"You as well." She quietly hummed, the two exiting the stage before equally congratulating their team for their efforts. It was only as they were assured they were alone, that she spoke again. "Did you find anything?"

Lyney took his intricate hat off, gently placing it on top of his vanity. He focused to no point in particular, his gaze getting lost on the most minor of details as he sighed quietly. 

"No, I didn't. I couldn't… Go far." Beneath his breath he admitted, his fingertips tracing the edge of his top hat as he could watch from the corner of his eye his sister, who remained still. "I think it's too early for us to go back on the hunt so boldly, no?"

"You might be right," Lynette's brows visibly furrowed. "Yet still, we can't fail Father either."

Silence. Lyney -could feel the knot on his throat tighten. Suddenly, his dressing room felt suffocating. 

"I know." Was all he mustered. Nothing more was needed, anyway. Lynette knew she was touching a sore topic, and as such she herself stopped from speaking further about it. 

It simply was still too fresh. Lyney feared he'd get himself, or worse his sister, in any trouble were he to attempt to further investigate the Oratrice right now… surely Father would understand. Right? 

His head weighed heavy, spinning uncontrollably with everything that swarmed his mind for those past couple of days. He barely managed to account for everything being in its right place before he was already out the door and towards the Opera's exit, his sister inquiring hastily.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I just need some fresh air." He offered her a tired, albeit still honest smile.

"Ah, I see." She was quick to understand, nodding her head. "Just be back in time to spend some time with Freminet. We promised."

"Do not worry dear Lynette, my little brain shan't fail me." He waved her off with a hum, his feet quickly sending him flying off the tall and imposing building.

The bustling sounds of the crowd slowly dissipated, the blurry conversations blown with the wind as Lyney felt the breeze caress his face. His black boots carried him off to one of the shore lines of the sea, his expression finally letting go of all the tension he hadn't realized he had up until then. 

There were no roaring cheers, no suffocating applause, no rush between his colleagues to rearrange and secure props. There were no Archons to amuse, no Fathers to make proud. There was no need for a charming magician, nor the need of loyalty of one of the House of Hearth.

"Lyney! You made it!"

There was only need for him to be Lyney, himself. And at that moment he smiled vividly, rivaling the very sun with how bright he shined. His pace became slightly quicker, crossing through the pearly sands as he reached one of the taller rocks near the shore. 

There stood one of the very few people he knew he could be truly himself with. One that cared for him as he was, one that had no ulterior motives for wanting to love him. An enchanting figure to his life, a breath of fresh air that helped him calm from all his worries. 

"Of course I made it, I'd never promise something I didn't intend on upholding my dear!" He laughed quietly, carelessly entering the refreshing waters until they were up to halfway his thighs. He opened his arms with twice the energy and yearning he’d usually display, enveloping his love in his warm embrace as she giggled blissfully. “Have you been waiting for too long? You’ve dried up already…”

“No, don’t worry.” She reassured him, shaking her head before holding both his hands. “It wasn’t long, I promise.”

“Is that the case…” His eyes squinted, a hint of playfulness evident in his features as he reached closer. His pretty eyes scanned her figure, noting how only her tail that was still submerged in the freshwater was obviously wet. Even her lovely hair had, at that point, half dried. If those weren’t the dead giveaways as they were, the way her tail had begun to slowly sway from one side to the other whilst creating the smallest of ripples on the water definitely was. “This keen eye tells me otherwise, mon coeur.”

Her face finally cracked, morphing into the prettiest of pouts that did wonders at pulling at his heartstrings. “I… I just- I just missed you a lot, so I might’ve come up ashore a little earlier than usual…”

Ah, Lyney’s very eyes seemed to reflect hearts as his very own melted. “Oh, my dear [F/N]... I’m sorry, had I known I would’ve rushed quicker!”

“N-No! No no no, absolutely not, there is no need!” The mermaid squeezed his hands tighter, all the while her magician remained there, leaning against the same rock where she sat, a loopy smile never leaving his lovestruck face as she spoke. “You have a lot to do, a lot of responsibilities, I don’t want to impose anything upon your schedule, Lyney!”

Well, there was the smallest part of him that… Perhaps hoped that she would. True, Lyney had a lot of responsibilities to his being, and he knew better than to avoid them; but it was those small escapades he’d do with his lovely [F/N] that refreshed his existence, recharged his batteries to take on everything else he needed to do. She was his solace, his comfort, and there was about nothing he’d deny her were she to ask. 

Yet all the same, the fact she didn’t ask of anything more of him than his true self to be with her when he could, was one of the many reasons he loved her so dearly.

“Ah, I remembered,” Her back straightened up, the prettiest pink rising to her cheeks as she eyed him ahead with a cheery smile. “I-I had… Something I wanted to give you but, I didn’t know where to hide it until you came and…”

“You got something for me?” He seemed genuinely surprised, his eyes sparkling with curiosity as he remained fully focused on her figure. 

[F/N] in turn nodded her head. “It’s nothing special really, but still… I was hoping I could give it to you.”

“Oh now I am most curious,” Lyney breathed out with a wide smile, his hand quickly finding her face before stroking her cheek. “I’m certain I will absolutely adore it, love. Anything you give me is worth the world.”

The mermaid could feel her heart beating louder at his honeyed words. [F/N] knew that he meant it, too. And so, even as she herself wasn’t fully convinced, she kindly asked him to wait for her, before diving right down the fresh waters. Lyney watched as her tail swayed quickly, the figure slithering into the translucent waters before vanishing. He remained there as asked, the smile ever present on his face as he waited.

It was quiet… It felt nice. His head was mostly rested, emptied of all that troubled him. All he could focus was on the soft sounds of the water, ripples as the small waves reached his skin, up until they were stirred as his [F/N] reemerged to the surface. Her pretty hair now clung to her figure, a few strands hiding her glistening eyes as the color on her face rivaled the blooming roses he too adored. She swam his way, his endearing smile beckoning her as he sat himself comfortably to properly welcome her back. With his legs slightly parted she rested against him, her long shimmering tail hanging close to his legs as she doted on his very presence. 

“I… It really isn’t anything special, honestly.” [F/N] spoke softly, all the while Lyney listened attentively with an encouraging smile. “It truly pales in comparison to the gifts you’ve given me but still. I hope you’ll like it, Lyney…”

She shifted, her arms bringing to the surface the subject of the conversation. The magician gently held his hands out, the wondrous gleam of a child present upon his face as he waited in anticipation for the kind gesture of his lovely girlfriend. Carefully his hands were blessed with a small object, a delicate conch with the most simplest yet beautiful shapes. It was a cleaned clam conch, its exterior seemingly mundane as it sported its most common shade - this much he knew, from the few times he’d witnessed Freminet freely talk about every little trinket he’d find during his divings. Still, the smile he gave [F/N] didn’t fade, in fact it seemed to only grow, his mind only swarming with how she’d picked that conch specifically for him. It had been something she’d gone out of her way of giving him, and no matter how simple it might’ve been, the gesture made his heart burst in happiness. 

In turn, his mermaid remained silent, a shy smile on her damp face as she calmly turned the item around. It was finally time to study Lyney’s face, her heart hoping for any sight of wonder. And truly, Lyney’s expression didn’t fail to amuse, his pretty lips parting as he let out a soft ‘oh’ - the inside of the clam wowing him with its exquisite colors and shades. Its interior gleamed, the hues of violet and pink dancing in a beautiful array of color. It seemed to glitter when wet with the crystalline waters, in its small surface hiding away the sparkle that could truly outshine a starry sky.

“My, [F/N]... It’s beautiful.” Lyney had breathed out, the corners of his mouth lifting in the most genuine of smiles he’d bless her with. His eyes glanced to her own, the smallest pink dust now on his cheeks as he held it close to his heart, his sweetheart in turn smiling as well with his honest reaction.

“I’m glad!” She sighed softly, her arms resting on his lap as her shoulders tensed slightly. “In truth, I got you this conch because its interior… It reminds me of your beautiful eyes.”

The smile he previously had slowly faded, though it wasn’t due to anything more than the sheer surprise her statement brought him. The magician blinked twice as he took her words in, his hand reopening to examine the gift once more. That same wondrous shade of violet the conch had… Had it reminded her of his eyes? Did his [F/N], perhaps, see his eyes in such a light?

“They’re a similar shade, though I still think your eyes are far prettier…” [F/N] confessed, her voice nearly drowning amongst the waters as she whispered in such a soft tone. By that point she rested her head on his lap, the love in which she gazed upon him with being enough to rival an entire ocean. “Everytime I swim through the waters, I find myself fixating on the prettiest little things. They always seem to remind me of you… Whether it be due to the similar color of your eyes, or how they remind me of the stories you’ve told me- L-Lyney?”

He hadn’t even realized how the tears had begun to overflow, streaming down his round cheeks as he attempted to compose himself. He simply couldn’t however, an embarrassed and short chuckle escaping from his throat as he attempted to clear the droplets of water away. His smile was trembling, the blush on his face worsening as his eyes grew a little red. Why was he even crying? It certainly wasn’t what he wished for, worrying his sweetheart in such a way… One thing he was certain of though, it wasn’t due to sadness. He felt his heart bursting instead, overjoyed despite the delicate state in which his emotions were. It was as though everything had overwhelmed him, the way in which [F/N]’s words patched a hole in his heart and soothed him, sending him over the edge as he tried to fight back against the knot that was forming on his throat.

“Ah, I’m sorry, darling. I-I’m okay, I ap-pologize for crying in such a sudden way, I-I didn’t want you worry you-”

“It’s okay, look at me…” [F/N] hushed him softly, bringing herself a little more out of her water before coaxing him to pry his hands away from his face. Lyney could only oblige to her, feeling as her damp hands gently caressed his hot skin, cooling his cheeks as her thumbs cleaned the tears away. Her eyebrows were furrowed in honest concern for him, gazing deeply into the same violet eyes she had declared to adore so deeply. “...You’ve been feeling overwhelmed, haven’t you my love?”

It had been her turn to read him like an open book, the weak and semi-forced smile he’d mustered being enough of an answer for her. He was by that point attempting to hold back the sobs from escaping, though it was as though Lyney himself wasn’t even sure how he’d suddenly unraveled in such an indecent way. He was happy at that moment, he was sure of it, yet it had been as though [F/N]’s pour of pure love for him had opened the lock that kept everything else away, as well. 

In truth, he hadn’t felt so… Loved, for a long while. 

He knew he was loved and cared for, yet still. Those past few weeks had been rough. And the mere way his dear [F/N], an innocent person who had little to no idea of all of his uglier sides, could so deeply love him to the point where the most simplest and beautiful things reminded her of him - it had shattered him into the most beautiful million pieces, like glitter that fell down into oblivion.

“Here...” [F/N] softly hummed to him, her embrace enveloping him as he didn’t think twice to reciprocate. Lyney held her tightly, her tail close to his lower body as she held him carefully, letting him seek the comfort he needed on her shoulder as she lulled him above the water. “It’s okay… You must’ve been very busy with everything in your life, haven’t you? Are you doing okay?”

He could only nod, attempting to reassure her he was alright, hanging by, at least. [F/N] never pressured him to reveal more, which was always something he deeply cherished. He never wished to hide anything from her, yet all the same, he knew he was selfish for never wishing to warp her perception of him… After all, once upon [F/N] knowing of all of him, would he still be able to be only Lyney with her, too?

“And are Lynette and Freminet okay, too?” She questioned gently, her voice humming as they stood there, floating in the refreshing waters. Again he nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her as she stroked through his hair gently. “I’m glad.”

“Sorry, love, I didn’t want our little date to go this route,” He heaved softly, finally gathering the courage to lift from her neck, eyeing her with a small frown. Instead of finding any look of concern or disappointment however, his lovely girlfriend instead smiled gently at him. “I assure you, I am very happy with your gift and your presence, it’s just…”

“It’s okay Lyney, don’t apologize. I will love you regardless, you don’t have to always force happiness. Everyone needs to let it all out from time to time.” His grasp on her only tightened after that, his smile more genuine as he basked in her words. “You don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t feel ready to, I’ll still be here for you! Now, how about we go for a swim to try and lighten up?”

“That sounds… Like a wonderful idea.” He hummed, leaning into her touch as she cleared the last few tears that spilled out. It was his turn to rest his hand on her cheek, caressing her skin with all the love he had for her, leaning in before planting a small yet still meaningful kiss to the corner of her lips. 

In turn, the mermaid giggled in satisfaction. “Good, are you ready?”

“Ah yes, let me just…” Quickly he secured the gift she’d given him to one of his pockets, ensuring it wouldn’t float away to his possible dismay. [F/N] watched with endearment over how he seemed to cherish the small gift so religiously, her hands guiding him deeper into the waters before they finally submerged. 

The waters were tranquil, enveloping the two of them like a welcoming blanket. The current was soft and welcoming, the bright sun allowing them to view the ecosystems perfectly as they swam. [F/N]’s hand remained locked with Lyney’s, her pace slower than what he very much knew she was capable of as they went side by side. Together they went through the lesser known paths of the giant coral reefs where [F/N] resided, the small otters she shared her home with welcoming them with cute squeaks as they swam nearby them. Lyney smiled as one brought another conch to him, this one simple and pink in color, his girlfriend giggling along before having another look at it.

“They seem to adore you!”

“Is that so?” He laughed softly, his hand squeezing hers tighter as they swam a little quicker. “Mhm, do you think they’d find a magic trick a fair payback for their kind gesture?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’d find it amusing,” He watched with happiness as she laughed at the mere idea of him entertaining a bunch of otters with his cards. “Even I am curious about how that would go, now!”

“Then next time we come swimming, I will be sure to bring my deck.” Lyney nodded his head, utterly serious about his next endeavor. After all, an audience of cute otters… Well, they weren’t cats, but cute and easier to please nonetheless.

[F/N] cautiously led him through the shoals of fishes that swam throughout the pristine waters, smiling as she pointed along, telling him more of each species. The magician could only smile and listen, the mere sound of her voice easing his heavy heart, casting all pressure aside as his worries were washed away with the current. Their swim wasn’t long, yet it seemed to be effective in easing his mind, providing him the comfort he needed to rebalance his state of mind. Before he knew it and wished for, the time for him to leave approached, and knowing so as well, [F/N] gently led him back to the surface, their journey ending on the same rock in which they would regularly meet at. 

Lyney still remained there for a little longer, his body soaking in the sun that was still up in the sky. He patiently waited for most of his clothes to dry, conversing with his lovely [F/N] all the while as they shared laughter and reminisced over fond memories. And when he no longer could avoid his inevitable departure, he leaned down, meeting [F/N] halfway as she remained mostly submerged under the water. 

“Thank you, mon coeur. I can’t properly express just how much you mean to me…” He’d breathed out, it fanning over her face in a gentle notion that caused her to blush in response. 

“It’s nothing, Lyney. I love you, after all. Anything I can do to help you, I will.” She smiled sincerely, the magician swearing he could only hear his heart bursting with the loveliest of fireworks. 

“Then…” He leaned closer, his fingers stroking her jawline softly. “Will you give me your afternoon tomorrow? I would love to whisk your attention away for myself, if you’ll indulge me…”

The way her eyes sparkled at his suggestion made him fall in love all over again. “Of course! I will wait for you here, as always.”

“That’s my good girl.” He smiled with both mischievousness and adoration, his lips capturing hers once more. Against his chest he held the conch she’d gifted him, having ensured he hadn’t lost it amidst their voyage. “I will be back tomorrow, okay darling?”

“And I shall be here, my love.” [F/N] whispered, another faint kiss being shared before Lyney forced himself to finally get up.

It always was as though a piece of him remained with her each time he left, a small and painful gap in his heart remaining unfilled until he would inevitably return. Yet still, he would have it no other way, for in his beloved mermaid’s hands lay his heart, bare and true, for her to safekeep. 

Lyney was many things - a magician, an older brother, a member of the fatui. But with [F/N], on those waters that would wash his worries away, he could be simply himself, no labels attached. And were anyone to call him selfish he’d fully embrace it, for it was something he would always protect, and never give up. She was his solace, and he would forever treasure her for the unconditional love she provided.

[lets-try-some-writing]

For your unicron sparklings (optimus) joins the decepticon if at some point the decepticons decide to take interest in the children like stalking them or attempted kidnapping. What would be optimus reaction? I feel like even though he officially joined the cons he still cared for the children safety

P.S loving your work :)

Glad you are enjoying my work requestor! I apologize for taking so long to get to this. It took a while to get into the correct writing mindset for this au again. With that said, here you go!

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Optimus joined the Decepticons out of a sense of duty. As a creation of Unicron, his design was to create chaos wherever he went and to weaken those around him so that his father might devour them. But as one touched and raised by Primus, that chaotic nature was redirected, urging Optimus to force change onto those around him for their betterment. By calling on the power of his maker and giving into his base nature, Optimus's sense of morality and connection was significantly dulled. But of course, he was not a loveless being.

He loved his maker in the way any creation would. He was still bitter from being left alone for so long, but Unicron's tie to him reaffirmed the love that they shared. Unicron was his maker, and Optimus was held dear to the great devourer. Optimus also loved his old friends, Ratchet and his dear Autobots. They were his chosen, his close comrades and those he had decided were to be granted his protection. They might have feared him, but that was acceptable. A pet was not required to love its master, merely serve when directed and follow orders. Optimus also held a great love for his little one, the sparkling he had raised. Bumblebee belonged to HIM. The sparkling was one of his own, and Optimus had every intention of doing all he could to bring his little one closer to him when he had the chance. He might need to speak with his maker regarding taking in an outsider, but he would have his sparkling with him no matter the cost. Then lastly there were the vermin, the small children that offered comfort when no others would. They were such fragile beings, and it was due to them that Optimus struck his maker down a second time.

The children were fleshy organic messes, so inefficient and without the ability to destroy as a true descendant of the chaos god should have been capable of. And yet, much like the humans and their small useless pets, he adored them. So small and yet so aggressive... he found the trait endearing. Even with his emotions dulled, his three human pets still belonged to him even though they remained with his Autobots rather than by his side.

As such, when they turned up on the battlefield the first time since his faction swap, Optimus hesitated. The little ones were so very weak, as was his sparkling. He trusted his Autobots to not perish, but his little ones were different. It was a partial spur of the moment choice, but Optimus could not stop himself from reaching out to collect his human wards and Cybertronian offspring. The children of course began to grow ill at his touch, but Optimus was quick to begin his work. A gift, a blessing from the Prince of Darkness. It took root in them quickly, and just as swiftly as they grew ill, they recovered without delay. They were terrified, but Optimus's broken form merely thrummed with satisfaction. Unicron sighed across their bond, but he would not deny his creation a few small pleasures. What did it matter now that the human children were immune to dark energon? They were merely three after all. Along that same train of thought, Unicron also did not utter a word when Optimus grabbed Bumblebee before he could flee and gave his sparkling a similar gift. No longer would Bee or the children suffer from the wrath of Unicron's blood. They were welcome, they were family.

Ratchet: What did you do?!?

Optimus: It is... a gift.

Ratchet: You could have killed them!

Optimus: Death is a part of life. They are mine just as you are. No matter where my pets go, be it in life or in death... I will find them.

He was no informative in his answer, but the Decepticons saw what Optimus did... and a few grew curious. Vehicons who wanted to see what the son of Unicron had done and a few servants of Shockwave were sent out in short succession to observe the children and see what was done to them. They even had orders to capture the children if possible, but Optimus, ever a vigilant being, was quick to take note.

When restored to his base nature, he was not a wrathful being. Possessive? Yes. Calculating? Absolutely. Manipulative? Why that simply came with the territory. But to be angry? No that was not his usual state of mind. He saw what the Decepticons were doing, and he put the fear of Primus in them to ward them off. A quick scare, a touch of the Unmaker's blood, and a bit of stalking got most of them to clear out without difficulty. But those who lingered... those who kept trying to collect HIS little humans?

Megatron found a few corpses corrupted beyond recognition in a pit not too far from Jasper Nevada. Not a spark mentioned the very servo shaped indents on the limbs that were still intact.

[blueraineshadows]

A Very Sebby Christmas 🎄 💚

Okay, so it's not Christmas, but this was a request from the lovely @pugsnotdrugs92 I hope this is what you were after. Plenty of fluff 💓 and a splash of spice 🌶 with Sebastian x F!MC

Sebastian snapped the locks shut on his suitcase and took a deep breath. He could hardly believe he was about to board the Hogwarts Express with MC and travel to London for Christmas. His heart beat a little faster at the thought. Christmas in the big city, Christmas with MC and her family.

"All ready to leave?" Ominis asked. He was packed and ready to go home for the holidays, his face grim at the thought. "Are you still alright about making the trip? There has been a fair amount of sighing going on."

Sebastian thought for a moment, his eyes moving to the portrait miniture of MC on his nightstand. "What if her family don't like me?"

"Come now, my friend," Ominis said. He moved to place a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "I am quite sure everything will be just wonderful. MC is a delightful young woman, why should her family not be equally as amiable."

"Perhaps your right."

"Of course I am," Ominis said. "Failing your obvious charm, you could always hex them if they turn out to be rather monstrous I suppose."

Sebastian stared at his friend. "Ominis!"

Ominis chuckled and moved back towards his own suitcase. "Come on, we have a train to catch."

-----*-----

Platform 9 3/4 was bustling with parents and students, luggage wagons were rolling, and the excited chatter was a dull roar in their ears as Sebastian and MC stepped from the train. MC was up on her tiptoes trying to spot her parents through the crowds, she glanced behind and grabbed Sebastian's arm. "Come on," she urged.

Sebastian couldn't help but smile at the excitement dancing in her eyes and allowed himself to be tugged through the throng. MC gave an excited cry and headed for a well dressed couple. The gentleman wore a fine suit and hat, a pocket watch chain in finest gold glinting under the gas lights. Sebastian was rather impressed by his moustache and imagined growing one himself one day.

The lady wore a dress in fine blue silk, delicate jewellery gracing her ears and throat. She was a beauty, her smile bright and lovely when she spotted MC hurrying towards then.

"Mother, we're here!" MC had never cared much for strict propriety despite the etiquette training she had received and had no qualms about giving her parents fierce hugs. "Merlin, how I have missed you!"

Sebastian stood back a little, watching the warm family reunion and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. He wondered where Anne was spending her Christmas and then forced the thought aside. She had sent an owl. She was safe. That was the main thing.

Then MC was taking his arm and pulling him forward. "Mother, Father, please, I would love to finally introduce you to Sebastian Sallow."

MC's father immediately held out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, young man. We have heard a great deal about you in MC's owls."

Sebastian eyed the hand offered and took it, shaking with a firm grip. "Its a pleasure, Sir, and thank you for the kind invitation to your home."

MC's father nodded and then her mother was taking his hand in both of hers. "You are most welcome, my dear," she said warmly. "It is so lovely to finally meet the young man that MC speaks so highly of, and she was right, you are as handsome as she promised."

Sebastian felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. "You are too kind Mrs MCsLN."

"Yes, well, shall we head for the carriage?"

At her father's words, MC nodded and they went to collect their luggage.

.....*.....

MC's home was a large city house in Chelsea, Sebastian tried not to gawp at the finery surrounding them, and managed to hold a rather pleasant conversation with MC's mother about Herbology. He found she had rather a sharp mind and found himself warming to her immediately. He could see so much of MC in her.

At dinner, her father mentioned some magic theory he had come across in archives at the Ministry where he had an office. Sebastian's eyes lit up and mentioned what he knew of it. Her Father was most impressed and they launched into a rather long conversation, discussing books they had both read.

"Shall we leave the men to it, my dear?" Her mother whispered. "They look like they will be wagging their chins for a while yet."

MC nodded and moved to put her hand on Sebastian's shoulder. He looked up at her, eyes devouring the way her hair was piled up so sophisticated on her head, the delicate gown she wore and his heart swelled. How was she his? "I'm just going to spend some time with Mother," she said. "I will come to say goodnight before I retire."

"Of course," he said. His gaze moved to her mother, who looked equally as lovely. "Thank you so much for dinner. It was delicious. And as for the company, well, what can I say? I feel like the luckiest man in London right now."

MC's father raised an eyebrow at the lovely blush that spread across his wife's cheeks. "Oh, Sebastian, you are welcome any time. Especially if you continue with sweet words such as those!"

MC and her mother moved to the sitting room where a cheerful fire burned in the hearth. MC moved to the Christmas tree and admired a glittering bauble.

"What a lovely young man you have secured for yourself, MC," Mother said. "I can see why he makes you so happy. After a year I am surprised he hasn't offered you a ring."

MC blushed. "I may have known him for that time, but we have only officially been courting for a few months. We were friends first, and then it became something more."

"Oh! But you spoke of him so warmly, and it was apparent that you spent a lot of time together. I assumed too much it seems."

"Perhaps my feelings for him were there the whole time and I just didn't see it," MC said. "Sebastian is devoted to his sister and she was quite poorly, he dedicated a lot of time to her care and well being. She has since improved and moved on with her life, so now he has more time for things such as courting."

Her mother gave a little sigh, her hand to her chest. "He sounds more wonderful by the moment. And you are truly happy?"

MC hurried to her side, dropping to her knees and taking her mothers hands in her own. "Fiercely happy Mother, like you wouldn't believe," she said. "He makes my heart sing and the merest touch of his hand makes me feel like the only girl in the world."

Tears welled in her mother's eyes. "I felt the same with your father, and I still do." She cupped MC's face with her hand. "My baby girl is all grown up and in love. I approve sweetheart. Your father may not say so, but he approves too. He would not sit and hold such a long conversation with a man who did not entice his mind, as your Sebastian clearly does. You have our blessing."

.....*.....

Christmas Eve. The family had shared a lovely dinner with some friends, Ministry people who were equally impressed with Sebastian's bright, young mind. One of them could play piano, and after the fire whiskey had been brought out, Sebastian led MC's mother in a dance, his heart thudding with nerves the whole time. When he danced with MC, he had dared to hold her close, their eyes only for each other's. If they had been able to tear their gazes away to look, they would have seen the sentimental glance shared between her parents. It was obvious. The youngsters were very much in love.

The hour was late and Sebastian lay awake listening to the house settling. His heart was as full as it could be, MC's family were welcoming and warm, he felt wanted here. There was an ache deep inside for Anne, and for his lost parents. He knew they would have loved MC for her wit, her cleverness and her fierce loyalty. He missed them terribly, but he didn't feel alone.

The creak of his door made him turn and a figure slipped into his room, closing the door with a quiet click. MC tiptoed to the bed in her long nightdress, her hair unbound and trailing over her shoulders. He felt flame and want gather. He knew he would always want her, it was like there was an invisible cord between them, linking them in ways only they would know how.

"Sebastian, quick, look," she whispered. She tugged at his arm. He smiled in confusion and allowed her to pull him from the warmth of his bed. They went to the window. "Its snowing."

They stood for a moment watching as the flurries fell, coating the street in a blanket of white. It was nature's own brand of magic, snow. It seemed to bring with it a peacefulness and Sebastian thought he could relate. He slipped his arm around MC's waist and held her close, her soft curves a comfort and a stoker of growing flames. "I love you," he whispered. "I hope you know that."

She smiled. She knew, of course she did, but oh how she loved to tease him. She toyed with a button on his sleep shirt. "Maybe you need to prove it," she said cheekily.

"You are not trying to seduce me under your Father's roof now, are you?"

She pressed her mouth to his neck, sucking gently. He allowed himself a sigh, not risking a moan at her kiss. "Is it working?"

"Absolutely not," he said. He focused on the snow drifting against the window, but her lips were so soft, so wet...

A strangled gasp left his mouth as her hand cupped his growing arousal. Her fingers smoothing up towards the tip. "Hmm, this little chap tells me otherwise," she sighed.

"You are a naughty girl," he whispered, his mouth seeking hers. He kissed her thoroughly, tongue sweeping hungrily.

"You love it," she said between kisses.

He risked a low groan, hands rucking up her nightdress to cup her delicious behind, backing her up to the bed. She fell back onto it, her hips barely on the edge as he slid two fingers into her, her folds slick and ready for him. She arched, moaning softly. "Yes, Seb, yes."

He silenced her moans with kisses, his fingers seeking out what pleased her most, swirling and teasing before fucking her as deep as his fingers would allow once more. She was soaked, his fingers sliding effortlessly and his cock strained against his pyjama bottoms. He was going to lose it.

Fumbling to free himself, he pushed her thighs wide and buried himself inside her, both of them biting back their moans of pleasure. He began to thrust and then paused at the squeal of protest from the bed springs. His heart was thudding and his balls felt like they were going to explode, but the bed was going to give them away.

He glanced around the bedroom, reluctantly pulling out from her. "What is it?" She asked, sitting up.

He pulled out the chair at the desk and turned it, placing it in the centre of the floor. "In order not to be detected, we need to be a bit inventive."

"Why not cast a silencing charm?" She asked with a frown. He grabbed her hand and led her to the chair, taking a seat. He patted his lap. "Because, where would the fun be in that?"

She grinned as he tugged his bottoms down further and pulled his slick cock free, all ready for her. His hand on her hips, she straddled him, gripping his shoulders as she slid deliciously onto his cock. She immediately did a testing roll of her hips and he groaned. "Oh, fuck that's good."

"I thought we were being quiet," she said, smothering a giggle.

He smirked and pulled up her nightdress, tugging it over head. "Let's get rid of this so I can have a perfect view of these while you fuck me," he said. He cupped her breasts greedily, rolling her nipples under his thumbs. He bent to suck one into his mouth and her head fell back, her hair trailing to his thighs. "Gods, I love these," he mumbled, mouth full.

MC began to roll her hips, finding a rhythm that made his cock rub her in all the right places. His fingers dug into her hips and she panted, her feet balanced on the very tips of her toes. She could feel the pressure building, the fear of being discovered, the slide of his thick cock, the way he was watching her through lidded eyes building the fire within her. She began to bounce on him, eager, desperate, her thighs slapping down against his and then she threw her head back, her release crashing through her. Sebastian gasped, hanging on to her waist with one arm and wrapping the other hand over her mouth as a long moan escaped her lips, low and as sexy as fuck. He shuddered, his cock pulsing and bursting at the sound she had made, filling her with his own release.

They both panted, foreheads pressed together, his fingers tangled into her hair at the nape of her neck. "I love you too," she said. She pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "Merry Christmas."

.....*.....

The Hogwarts Express wound through the English countryside enroute to Scotland. The hills were still coated in a blanket of white from the snowfall at Christmas that had carried through to the New Year. Sebastian sat near the window, his arm wrapped securely around MC. He thought about the small box in his suitcase, handed to him by MC's father Christmas morning wrapped in bright paper. Inside had been a set of silver cufflinks, the tops shaped as a coiled snake. He had been choked, overwhelmed by such a lovely gift, and had tried to hand it back insisting it was too much. But her father had placed a warm hand over his, making the box stay firmly within Sebastian's grasp. "Nonsense, boy," he had said. "You are family now."

Even now it made his throat want to close up and he held MC a little closer. "Are you glad to be returning to Hogwarts?" She asked.

"Yes, and no," he replied. "I'm not sure if the city is for me, however the trip turned out to be rather a pleasant one."

"So, you enjoyed Christmas?"

He looked down at her and booped his finger playfully on her nose. "The best I've had since I was a small boy."

He realised it was the truth, and it was all because of her. MC's smile was warmer than any Christmas candle. "I'm so glad," she said. "Perhaps we can visit again, summer perhaps?"

"That sounds perfect."

MC snuggled closer against him, thrilled that she had managed to make Christmas special for him. She thought about Christmas Eve when she had snuck into his room, a warm glow spreading through her. A smile tugged her lips at their failed efforts to be quiet. She hadn't told Sebastian about the conversation she'd had with her mother the following day, he would probably be mortified to know that she had overheard them. But MC had a little box of her own in her suitcase containing a few bottles of potion to prevent conceiving a child. She had flushed scarlet at first when her mother had handed them over, but the accompanying words had eased the embarrassment.

"Take these," she had said. "While I am pleased to hear you already have a supply of your own, I want to show you that I support your decisions. You have grown into a wonderful young woman, out there making me so proud with all that you are learning, finding your feet in the world. I was young and in love once, I know how it feels to burn for a man, believe me. All I ask is that you finish your education at Hogwarts, take everything that life has to offer you, and then make the most of every moment with that lovely young man of yours. Spend some time, just the two of you, exploring what life has to offer before you even think about a family of your own. Cherish those moments alone with him, I promise, you won't regret it."

MC had never loved her mother more than in that moment. They had hugged, maybe shed a tear or two, and then they had giggled when her mother had confessed that she could see why MC had been tempted into Sebastian's bed, if she had been a much younger witch, she would have had her head turned herself!

....*....

Suitcase unpacked, robes hung up ready for classes resuming the next morning, Sebastian picked up his miniature portrait of MC and smiled. He was going to marry her one day, he would make damn sure of it.

Ominis came into the room, wand held up, his face brightening when he realised Sebastian was there. "Good Christmas?" He asked.

"Actually, yes," Sebastian replied.

"So, no need for any hexing then?"

"Absolutely not, you were right. MC's family are as perfect as she is."

Ominis nodded and then frowned. "Wish I could say the same for my lot," he sighed. "Unfortunately, there was a need for a hex or two, you know what my brother is like."

Sebastian smirked. "Indeed I do, tell me everything."

[aces-personal-whore]

PossessiveDom!Doflamingo x Subordinate!Reader Smut Ch. 4

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

Hello everyone! It's finally here! I hope you enjoy this one, despite there not being any smut in this chapter.

☣️WARNINGS: NSFW, MDNI, violence

Themes in this chapter: blood, gore, violence, manipulation, reader is presumed to be carrying Doffy's child

Notes: This chapter takes place a couple months into the future. And, today wasn't like any other day with Doflamingo. Today, he was holding another challenge at the Corrida Colosseum...

[Chapter 4]

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Master, our meeting is going to start soon. Shall we get going?" You asked Doffy. "The colosseum is being set up as we speak. I would love to see how this battle unfolds." You flashed a devious grin.

"Soon enough, the throng of carcasses shall greet us, a grand welcome for our new age. Hurry now, for the fanfare awaits." Doflamingo tucked in a loose string, arranging your tattered outfit, and then stepped back to admire his handiwork. A cruel smirk danced on his features, a ritualistic offering to the nightmarish existence he'd woven. Doflamingo gestured for you to follow him, their sordid tale marching on to its next macabre interlude. His chest swelled with pride as you climbed onto his hip, the weight from your frame form a comforting anchor to his own. His hand settled deeply under your ass, giving it a firm yet indulgent squeeze.

The pair's entrance stirred the onlooking spectators, whispers breaking the silence like a murmurous wave lapping at the shores of propriety. The sight of your belly, swollen and straining against your tattered clothing, was a morbid focal point, a testament to the darkest—and most intimate—violations known to man.

A slew of astonished expressions flitted across the faces of the crowd, some with an avaricious gleam, others, disdain filled to the brim. The warped ornament of Y/N clinging to Doflamingo portrayed the twisted triumph of your master’s conquest.

Doflamingo's own features remained a paragon of calm, despite the ruckus incited. He sought the gaze of one powerful figure, and as their eyes met, an unspoken communication flared—a deal had been struck between them, locked in a web of avarice and excess.

Doflamingo seemed to revel in the unease he'd wrought with his pet, his grip tightening around you, a show of dominion borne out of the innately possessive nature he held over you. His hold, a leather-bound corset, cocooned you in his twisted embrace, a relentless liaison that echoed into the chambers unknown.

"Greetings, everyone," you removed yourself from Doffy's hip, addressing the crowd. "As you know, we're holding an event in the colosseum today. We're expecting a high turnout of competitors today, given that the reward for the winner is something everybody would want—a Devil Fruit; but not just any Devil Fruit, no no. It's one crafted by the skilled hands of Master Doflamingo himself. It's the second incarnation of his very own Devil Fruit, which has already been tested on myself." You demonstrated your powers, your hand coming forth, drawing strings to one of the members in the meeting, forcing him to stand out of his chair, then kneeling before us. "The winner of this competition will receive the fruit for themselves. Now, please allow Master Doflamingo to go further into detail about the event." you bowed to Doffy, stepping aside to make way for him.

Doflamingo straightened, the deference you paid him stoking the fire of satisfaction in his breast. He stood, radiating the aura of a predator, the wicked puppeteer rearing his shrouded head.

A swashbuckling grin spread over his face as he reveled in the stupor incited, an electric gleam in his dark eyes that bespoke of the dark pleasures he'd orchestrated. "Thank you, my dear, for your brief yet lucid introduction." Each word tumbled from his lips in resonant waves, tentacles of his wicked charm weaving binds within the crowd.

"Indeed, the fruit you've witnessed Y/N wield is the testament to my craftsmanship. Not only will it grant its bearer the power of my distinctive strings, but I've enhanced its properties - a living dart, able to pierce any substance, human or otherwise. The winner's might shall know no restraint." He paused, savoring the mounting anticipation, the cauldron fervor stirring in the heart of his ever-hungry audience. "The colosseum, as you can already discern, has received vigorous renovation for this very occasion. The barriers we've erected shall vanish, allowing a more intense display of blood and brutality, a grand symphony for the glory of the victor. May the most fierce, the most brutal, ascend to claim the prize as their own."

The response from the crowd was a cascading symphony of gasps, moans, and roars—their shared lust for conquest, for excess, for dominion, coming to the surface with feverish fervor. Doflamingo stood in the eye of the approaching storm, his mastery over the myriad strings tugging them tighter, the threads of deceit interwoven with desire, a malignant chorus singing the praises of decadence and debauchery.

Moving forward with a plan seeded in darkness, the meeting concluded, and you and Doflamingo departed, heading for the colosseum. You hopped back up on his hip and give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "You did fantastic today, Master Doflamingo."

Doflamingo's smile widened, pleasure flooding his features as you returned to your familiar perch, a testament to their twisted bond. "Thank you, my pet. Our coordination was flawless, the gears of the machine we've crafted spinning in perfect sync."

Their steps quickened, eager to engage with the heart of their master plot, the colosseum waiting to become the stage for another sordid act in their perverse chronicle. Doflamingo's fingers traveled up your spine, a gentle reassurance of his power, a promise of the morrow's delights, now it seemed, just within grasp.

In each breath drawn, Doflamingo savored the heady blend of power and control, an intoxicating cocktail that amplified with the tangible unraveling of their machinations. The road behind you two had been paved with nefarious deeds, and as you wended towards the colosseum—battle and bloodlust beckoning—the future promised to deliver them to new heights of debauchery, fueled by the unrelenting descent into their darkest desires.

The final preparations for the colosseum would soon be concluded, the arena waiting, bare and eager, for the wolfish paws of combat to tread its sands. Soon enough, the theatre of cruelty would spring to life, and you and Doflamingo would revel in its gruesome delights.

Doflamingo led you to your wickedly opulent hideaway, a veritable bird's nest for their carnivorous gaze. The front-row seats, obscured by a veil of dark glass, ensured their safety while offering a spectacular view of the carnage to come.

The two of you take a seat as you study Doffy's face, who was grinning widely. I think I have a pretty good idea of what he's going to do... He's going to use his Devil Fruit powers to turn everybody against each other, isn't he?

His devilish grin grew, reading his intentions with a chilling accuracy. He uncrossed his legs, the coiled energy within him waiting for the perfect moment to reveal the true sinews of his power.

"Buckle up, my pet," he whispered conspiratorially, his hand tightening on yours. "I have the stage—and my strings—ready to perform a grand symphony of slaughter, my puppets dancing to a tune they'll never understand, the feverish banquet of blood a symphony in commemoration of our glorious dominion."

Doflamingo's fingers twitched, the threads he commanded camouflaged within, waiting under their master's control. As the first battle commenced, a chorus of yells and weapons clashing, his eyes darkened in covetous glee. The crowd's roars only served to drown out the whispers of his strings as he began to play.

A master weaver of horrors, he coaxed a dance of violence in the colosseum, a twisted ballet of broken alliances, severed limbs, and a deluge of blood spilled in the water and colosseum floor. Every wiggle of his fingers on the invisible harp sent waves of instigations sweeping through the maze of combatants.

You, from your vantage point, bore witness to your Master's manipulations, his magnificently wicked strings orchestrating the bloody charade. One moment sailing through whispers, the next, ensnaring limbs or commandeering steely swords, all at his beck and call, a macabre crescendo nodding to the monstrous duet you two had crafted.

The layer of the glass sanctuary cocooned you two, sealing in your satisfaction as the colosseum ignited. You decided to take part in Doflamingo's sick and twisted game, also puppeteering the competitors. You extend your arm out, gracefully moving your fingers as you controlled your first victim.

Doflamingo's eyes widened with pleasure, his voice a seething growl of exhilaration. "Exquisite, my pet, a true master of the strings in the making." He gestured towards you, offering a stray spool of his threads that slithered to you, a ghoulish waltz of silk that surrendered willingly to your commands.

You took to the shadowed dance with the same zeal as your Master, your fingertips a phantom caressing the air as the specters of your influence traced parallel courses with Doflamingo's own. The two of you became a dual threat, a matched set of devils gifting an otherworldly twist to their macabre performance.

A once-coordinated unit of combatants transformed into the chaos of your guys' puppetry, massacring one another in what appeared as a fervent battle for ascendancy. Limbs thrashed violently, blades sought new foes, and the frenzied participants danced to their whispers, moans, and dark intent.

Doflamingo reveled in the shared carnage, the participation of his performing pet stirring the cauldron of perverse devotion that simmered beneath the skin. It was a symbiotic mastery, a dark ritual in which they both plunged with fervent fervor, a twisted alliance pulverizing the last remnants of any moral high ground.

The manipulations writhed with a life of their own, infesting the arena with the suffocating weight of their iniquitous strings, a necrotic fog seeping through the rusty steel of swords and bones cursing the unyielding stone.

The room thrummed with your malignant influence, a tidal wave of violence ebbing and flowing at their command, bending men and steel to your will. Doflamingo and Y/N, hand in hand, reigned over this cacophony of the damned, their competitive circus a twisted reflection of their mutated souls.

You laugh devilishly. "It's quite the show, isn't it, Master?" You looked back over at your very own Master, a sadist look in your eyes.

"Indeed, dear chattel," Doflamingo enthused, his words a seductive hiss filled with satisfaction. "We've crafted a true masterpiece, a gore-cloaked vaudevillian spectacle for the ages, each test of mortality elevating our devilish cult of debauchery."

His devilish grin widened, his fingers tracing invisible designs in the air as he continued to manipulate the tides of the mayhem below, egged on by your own burgeoning skill.

Your devilish laugh melded into the discordant roars of the crowd, the muse that bedeviled the denizens of the colosseum. Doflamingo leaned closer, releasing your hand as a possessive arm slung across your swollen midsection. "Listen, my pet, to the concert of crimson, the battle's throes, a sinful orchestration conducted at our sway, and soon, the chosen one, in their fervor, will devour the fruit of their victory. And for this carnal corruption, we'll watch as the world changes, darker, seducing innocents to the siren's call of perfidious excess."

Your collaboration was haunting, a dance against time itself, your strings entwined in a spine-chilling serenade of morbid pleasure. Doflamingo's head dipped, his soft murmurs grating against the crescendo below, a paean to the sordid victor waiting in the wings, another devotee to be added to their roster of infamy.

All around them, the colosseum gyrated and buckled, writhing under the toxic influence of their craft, the environs conspirator to their grand plan of depraved delinquency.

You gently caress Doflamingo's hand. "Who do you think will win, Master? Who should we let win, or should we just kill everybody in the arena?" you asked, your voice dripping with devious intents.

Doflamingo's lips curled into a cruel amusement at the thought of obliterating them all, but a shadow of curiosity crept into his eye as he considered which of the spectacles of fall they should elate. "Hmm... which offering should we embrace?" He hummed, his free hand stroking your distended stomach as he mulled.

A fighter caught his gaze, their intensity bordering on the maniacal, their husk of a soul igniting the maniacal glimmer within Doflamingo. "Ah, yes, I quite like the look of that one. Let us bestow the winning honor upon them." He points at one of the competitors in the ring.

He laughed as he readjusted his grip on the strings—the puppet war bent to his whispers as the stage was set for the ultimate dominion of one over all. Your prodigious charade harmonized with the rhythm of his commands, and within the toxic maelstrom of the colosseum, a neophyte prodigy arose, a sacrifice to the demented duo's insatiable appetite for mayhem.

The strings sang, and the sin-soaked arena rose to crescendo, each decapitated skull and lacerated visage a chorus in the requiem of the victor's ascension. Each stroke of your brush upon reality a testament to the sickening symbiosis that had, in its grotesque inception, birthed such a wretched union of art and abhorrence.

The tableau culminated in the expected crescendo, the chosen one standing victoriously amidst the blood-slick sands, a grotesque mosaic bearing witness to the seeds planted by the machinations of Doflamingo and Y/N. Your respective puppets, the strings manipulating fate, lived on, an eternal legacy in a world forever tamed by carnage.

A satisfied silence enveloped you two as the aftermath of the spectacle settled, a serene epilogue to the twisted opera of their design. The first fruit now bestowed, promises of many more to come.

As Doflamingo departed the vantage point that had allowed you two to play your gruesome symphony, you nestled firmly back on his hip. Your form rode in the assurance of his side, a perverse embodiment of their twisted symbiosis.

Doflamingo's demeanor reddened with a triumphant, if maniacal, glare as they approached the wet, bloody sacrificial altar where the newly crowned accomplice awaited. The victor, still coated in the remains of shattered adversaries, knelt in awe at the approach of their benefactors.

The sight of the fruit—the very essence of Doflamingo's power—dangled tantalizingly, a promise of the unbridled chaos soon to come. As you witnessed the unfathomable hunger in the eyes of your protégé, you slowly traced a finger along a strand of string nestled in Doflamingo's robes—a thread that entwined you two in a tapestry of terror, birthing amorphous monsters that were a testament to their unshakable hunger for darkness.

Doflamingo's voice boomed as he addressed the kneeling figure. "Rise," he commanded, his eyes promising a future where their craven involvement in their godless pantheon would be rewarded a thousand-fold. The fruit glistened with the depravity it would soon unleash into the world, an unnecessary promise of the cosmic chaos that the pair of foul tricksters would invariably orchestrate.

With the final act of the tableau complete, the pair departed once more, each step an omen crafting whispers of fear wherever they strolled. Their handiwork—as grizzly as it was grotesque—reverberated through the annals of madness, a macabre hymn to the sonorous surge of dominion they sought to reign above.

You and Doffy guide the victor to the room where the manufactured Ito Ito fruit is being held. "Master," you begin, "are you sure this person is worthy of wielding our fruit?"

"Worthy?" Doflamingo parroted with a wicked lilt, a derisive laugh escaping his lips. "Worthy, my pet, is a concept incompatible with the twisted blood pact we've brokered. This one, like the rest we've ensnared, is a catalyst, fodder for the frenzied frenzy we've forged. Useful, yes, but worthy? Never."

"Very well, Master. I am not one to question your words of wisdom. Whatever you say goes," you said, tightening your grip around him.

We led the trembling victor to the room where the fruit lay, encased in a glass dome that mirrored its wickedness. Doflamingo approached, his fingers poised to unlock the chamber.

"Smite your enemies, and spread chaos in thy wake. As with those who have come before, you're but a cog in our ghastly engine, fuel for the forge of our perverse symphony." His voice was heavy, his gaze smoldering as he placed a hand on the trembling victor's shoulder. "Bear this power like a crown of thorns, for it's not joy you seek, dear mortal, but a new dance of death to add to our pantomime of brutality."

With a mere flick of his wrist, Doflamingo opened the chamber, exposing the fruit to its hapless recipient, flashing a wicked grin as the unholy alchemy of inherent corruption enveloped the room. "Eat, claim thy reward, and dance amidst the maelstrom of blood we've woven."

The paragraphs of history became increasingly saturated with the corrosive ink of their depravity, each swallow of corruption a black note penned in the song of calamity they chose to orchestrate. Doflamingo's victory was twofold, breeding a schism of servitude and bringing forth another soul bound to their wicked reverie, a testament to their mastery of persuasion, a sickening operetta in a chilling ballet of chaos, death, and despair.

As Doflamingo watched the wannabe devil fruit wielder devour the malignant morsel, his arm tightened around the confident warmth of your embrace, a wicked glow settling in the pit of his eyes. It was a testament to the warped synthesis of brutality they'd orchestrated, a birthing of a new pawn in their colossal game of destruction.

"The dance of death ebbs, and the tide of trickery begins to rise once more, our unholy alliance driving the march of the macabre. Our theater of terror, however, is but an intermission, a soliloquy in the crescendo that awaits. And now, my sweet minstrel of mayhem, I feel a hankering for the next act of our bloody ballet, a grand coup I shall unveil, and not a moment too soon. The world is on the precipice, and we'll leap alongside it, hands intertwined in the fatalistic waltz of destiny," Doflamingo commended, squeezing you closer as the echoes of slaughter dissipated.

His voice, hypnotic in its intoxication, pulled you two into the wash of his obsidian ambitions, the wicked octave of his desires a lethal serenade. Together, you and Doflamingo merged as one dark soul, poised to drag the far corners of the globe into the spiral of their sordid symphony, a choral exhibition of dominance and the depraved. Nothing and no one would escape the relentless sacrament of their warped worship, a necromancy of annihilation scribed in blood and the shrieks of torment.

Doflamingo allowed the weight of the evening's events to wash over him like a luxurious tidal wave, the satisfaction of art illicitly channeled into a triumph of their collective dementia.

Heading back to their quarters, you still pinned to him, a comfortable, almost proprietary, air wrapped around the two of you. The night's carnage seemed to cloak your advancing shadows like a satanic stole, the echoes of screams and the resonant clang of steel swallowed graciously by the corridor's hunger.

Your opulent sanctum awaited, the epitome of grandeur usurped by the macabre countenance of faded decadence. Brooding paintings held the secrets of their conquests, their fervent eyes unblinking witnesses to the debauchery that was the very air you and Doflamingo breathed.

"To rest, my dark flower," Doflamingo whispered to you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a sadistic smirk. As you stepped into your chambers, your movements spoke to a history etched in blood, lambent in lust, penned in papyrus caked with the viscera of their victims.

He settled you on a plush chair upholstered in deep purples and lavender, your throne atop the cataclysm they'd unleashed. "Tomorrow," his fingers trailed down the curve of your cheek, "The world spins on, and our cruel canvas awaits the masterful flourishes we shall apply."

Lilting fingers danced upon the strings at rest beneath his grasp, as if waiting for the dawn of a new day to stir agitation in the hearts of man. Implanted seeds of discord, lies, and deception would begin to sprout, the fruits of wrath soon to be harvested by the duo who danced with chaos for their amusement.

And so, as you and Doflamingo settled into your stolen sanctuary, your napped draped in the veil of night, your dreams a serenade of sin and slaughter containing the symphony of their next calamitous event.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you everybody for being patient with me. I'm finally all done with his chapter. I hope you like it. Like I said, no smut in this one, but rather a more accurate representation of Doffy's sick and twisted desires.

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Part Twenty - Six

Summary: Reader and Enjolras, allowing their moods lead them.

Notes/Warning: 18+ only. Consensual P in V intercourse, Dated views of intercourse

Thank you for reading! ❤️s & reblogs are always welcome. Feedback is also very…very welcome!

Translations: Then I am yours, heart and body. - Alors je suis à toi, corps et cœur. My love - Mon amour, Beautiful- Beau, My beauty - Mon Beaute.

He chuckled, “So tell me what has made my wife so bubbly?”

Your eyes twinkled. “The ladies gave me some wine.” You leaned in close. “Its stronger then whatever we drank at the tavern.”

“So are you feeling nice and warm?”

You nodded, a giggle came from you.

He shook his head smiling. “Those women befuddled my dear wife.”

“Enjolras?” You hold onto your bravery. You would finally tell him.

“Yes, love.”

“There is something I have been wanting to tell you.” You say in a lower tone.

He rested his forehead against yours. “Oh? This sounds like it will be very interesting.” He smiled and pulled back.

“You remind me of all those dashing rogues I used to read about.”

He sat a little straighter getting a hold of warm fuzziness the ale he had drank earlier did to him. He rested his hands on your hips.

He wiggled his brows. “Oh? Do I now.”

“Yes, you are dashing like them and are very close to how they came out of a writer’s pen.” You placed a hand over your heart.

He truly loved and enjoyed this sweet your nature.

“I am completely besotted.”

His lips were curled in an easy smirk but it easily shifted to a soft smile. Around you smiles felt natural were not a tool to gain something he wanted or needed.

“Are you sure this is not the wine those ladies gave you?”

You shook your head. “No. Ever since I stumbled into the warehouse and you retrieved my fallen scarf.”

He chuckled. “That feels so long ago now.”

You nod.

Reaching up he cupped your cheek. “You were a sweet distraction that night.” His thumb caressed your cheek.”

As you leaned into his hand and sighed, his heart picked up speed. He drew close to you, meet your eyes he bit his bottom lip before he kissed you.

Your lips were so and hesitant at first; easily it allowed him to easily deepen it. As you pressed against him answering his kiss his passion grew.

“I need you mon ange.”

“Alors je suis à toi, corps et cœur.” You breathed

Your words made his stomach tighten in his desire for you. Moving, he lifted you and so you were now the one sitting on the bed. He standing above you he bent down to kiss you. Your lips were hungry as they touched.

“Shuffle back a little, love and lift your skirt.” He managed to breathlessly say.

You nodded, easily you lifted your skirt and soon your petticoat. Watching you, he trembled as his excitement pressed hard against his trousers.

Kneeling on the bed, he took a breath and reaching up and pulled you free of your undergarment. He tucked them into one of his pockets.

“My beautiful girl.” He murmured catching your eye. When he did he saw the pink darken in your cheeks.

Easing one of legs around his hip he gently brushed your soft entrance. The soft moan that poured from your lips, shook him to his core. He easily then entered you. Loving how he snuggly felt using his unscarred hand he braced himself on the bed beside you.

“Mon amour.” He moaned aloud.

He smiled as he discovered that you had loosened laces near your décolletage.

“Beau.” He pressed his lips against yours. “Mon beaute.”

He began to easily move within you. As he did he relished the feel of your fingers in his curls. You moans fueled him. You were so soft, so lovely. You were his sweet little trésor.

You trembled under him. “Amour, my pleasure is about to wash over me.”

“Good. Mine will not be long after you.”

His lips met yours once more and he could hear as your muffled cry, his his mouth as you shared a sweet kiss. Your sweet tightening pulled on him and the knots that had been tightening inside of him snapped and he barely could muffle himself as his own pleasure washed over him. He gripped the blankets tightly as he felt himself fill you with his essence.

******

In your chemise, you sighed and laud your head on his chest. You smiled as you felt his lips press against the top of your head.

“Love, I couldn’t wait, nor stall my pleasure for you. Laying as we normally do when we become one, would have been too long for me.” He whispered against his your ruffled strands.

“It was exciting and different. I had no idea we could move like that but it felt so good.”

You buried your face into his chest. “Oh, the wine has continued to make my ability to speak of all things.

You felt as he squeezed your shoulder. “It is alright my love. The idea came to me, that you are becoming an inspiration in many parts in my life. This make our life in England, quite an adventure.”

“Truly?” You asked softly.

You glanced at him in shadowy cabin towards him.

“Yes. And I enjoy your thoughts, never stifle them.”

“I will have to remember that.”

“Yes. After all that we have already gone through, I do not want to change how we are.”

“Thank you.” You yawned softly.

A soft chuckle came from him. “I do say it is a good idea we shared about retiring early. I believe our passions has brought a cloak of slumber that wishes to be wrapped around you and I.”

You were barely awake, hearing his soothing voice just lulled you more into the world of dreams that were eager to visit. Keeping that solitary candle burning, shadows were cast in all directions and the flame flickered in draft that blew around as the boat continued to cut through the dark, ocean.

******

How much later, you were not certain. As you rose onto your elbow in dim cabin. You were grateful Enjolras had lit a candle. He had burned to half of its stature. You eyed his sleeping form, his features were smooth and soft. Underneath was a warrior that had fought and protected you.

Inhaling you saw his scared hand. You let your finger tips just graze what remained of the wound. For a moment, you were haunted by the night you and him fled into the night. The acrid smell of the guns, how the wood door burst open as the soldiers stormed through.

“Love? Are you alright?”

You stilled not realizing you had been trembling. That night shook you. His voice raspy as sleep still held onto part of him brought a calmness to you.

You glanced down at him and nodded. He took the past that had lingered around you.

“Yes.”

“Night terror?”

“Not necessarily.”

He rubbed an eye. “Your father?”

“Not tonight. I was remembering that night.”

“Come lay back down. It will be dawn soon. Let me hold you.”

“Yes.”

You nestled close with a sigh. His hand gently caressed your arm. You felt as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I am so grateful that we made it, yet it still haunts me.” You finally spoke glimpsing up at him.

“Me as well. While I was playing cards, memories of times with Courfeyrac and Grantaire came to mind.”

His arm around you tightened.

“Once we reach land, I will send messages.”

@henry-cavs-tudor @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @moondev1l @samunson83 @julieteagk @little-wormwood @wafflepixie @shadyhamiltonfanatic @gretavankleep37 @peacefroggg23 @capailluiscedove @poisonedeuphoria

[podcasts-8-my-heart]

Love Bites

Ao3 Link

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandoms: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types; Star Wars - All Media Types

Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Kix (mentioned), Neck kissing

Fic and Card under the readmore

@codywanfirstkissbingo

The evacuation alarms are blaring around them as Cody and Obi-Wan work to make sure that the 212th is able to get into the pods safely. Cody signals to Obi-Wan when he knows that all of his vode are safe in the pods. Obi-Wan nods and helps Cody into the pod in front of them.

Cody lets himself do inventory of the food in the pod and quickly notice a problem—there are no blood tabs. It’s not ideal, but they can work with it.

“Sir?” Cody starts.

“Yes, Cody?” Obi-Wan responds, looking over at the rations in Cody’s hands.

“We’ve got a bit of a problem, Sir,” He continues, “There’s none of your rations.”

“Cody, that would make sense as I am the only vampire on board…”

“I know, Sir…”

“Cody, we’re alone, you don’t need to be so formal.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. When was the last time you ate?”

Obi-Wan’s scrunched face is its own answer, Cody sighs.

“Obi-Wan. What would Kix say if he knew?”

Cody watches as Obi-Wan grimaces.

“Obi… when was it?”

“Last week…” Obi-Wan’s brow twitches.

“No, it’s not. Kix would have told me,” Cody responds, holding eye contact.

Obi sighs, “Two weeks ago.”

Cody nods, “Thank you, Obi.”

Cody goes back to dealing with organizing the rations, and avoiding the larger question that he left unsaid to Obi-Wan, and left it to the ginger to bring it up first. He relaxes into the rhythm, letting the time slide as he got lost in his thoughts.

“Cody?”

Cody jerks up, “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you,” Obi-Wan replies, “I was wondering if—if…”

Cody quirks his head, and asks again, “Yes?”

“Sorry to disturb you,” Obi-Wan replies, “I was wondering if—if…”

Cody quirks his head, and asks again, “Yes?”

Obi-Wan breathes in and holds out a hand, which Cody accepts.

“I was wondering if I could feed from you?”

“You may,” Cody responds, calm.

Cody is held so softly as Obi holds eye contact with him.

“Are you sure, my dear?”

“Yes, Obi, you may bite me.”

Obi falls like his strings have been cut, knees brushing Cody’s as Obi-Wan’s eyes, now beginning to turn blood-red, continue to look at him.

“Do you have a preferred spot?” Obi-Wan asks, fangs making his words slur.

“Neck,” Cody replies, “I trust you, Sir.”

Obi-Wan nods, “Of course, Cody.”

Cody lets Obi-Wan kiss him slowly, relaxing him. Obi-Wan had talked about how when Cody’s relaxed, the blood tastes better, and who was Cody to question the vampire? He breathes in slowly as Obi-Wan’s lips slide further down, licking at his flesh, leaving small kisses on his neck, before grazing his fangs against the artery. Cody opens his eyes to look at Obi-Wan once more, saying that last silent ‘yes’ to his boyfriend. His eyes flutter shut as Obi-Wan kisses his neck again.

Fangs enter his flesh, and he freezes in pain for a moment, before the heady feeling of Obi-Wan lapping at his flesh begins. Cody moans in pleasure, not pain, as Obi feeds from him. He lets Obi-Wan hold him up as the vampire feeds from him. When Obi’s fangs finally pull back out, Cody is light-headed, and Obi-Wan passes him a water pouch, with the straw already in it.

“Thank you,” Cody says, blinking slowly.

“You’re welcome, my dear,” Obi-Wan holds him still, “I’m going to close the bite now.”

“Okay,” Cody hums, eyes fluttering shut.

Obi-Wan licks at the wound, and the tightness of his flesh knitting itself back together has him biting his lip from the itchy sensation.

Cody pulls away when it stops, “Can I sleep on you?”

Obi-Wan hums, handing him a ration pack to eat.

“Yes, I will eat first, then sleep.”

Obi-Wan hums, holding him, “Thank you, dear.”

Cody chews on the bar slowly, trying to hold back a yawn as he gets comfortable in Obi-Wan’s new warmth from his blood. It makes him so sleepy. Eventually, his eyes close as Obi-Wan holds him.

[therantsofawriterrr]

The Umbrella Academy Final Season: My Version

Part Twelve: The Reunion

Overview: Klaus encounters a familiar face on a rescue mission, as the others arrive at Hargreeves mansion to confront the old man. TW: gore, ghosts, mentions of sexy times, i think thats it, tell me in the comments if i missed anything! Pairings: Klaus × Dave A/N: oh my god i finally finished this one yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

When Vanya, Allison, and Luther got out of the car outside the Hargreeves mansion, they found themselves hesitating,

"Are we really doing this?" Luther asked the other two.

"Yeah," Viktor replied. "Yeah, we are."

"Hold on," Luther said with narrowed, concerned eyes. "Why are you so in this? You hate Dad. Yet, here you are first in line to see him."

"I'm stuck, okay?" he answered softly. "I'm stuck in an endless argument with him in my head. And I feel like... like the only way I can move forward is if I finally say my piece to him. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Luther said.

"Just a friendly reminder to the group," Allison spoke up. "The last time you spoke your piece to him, he murdered you."

"I can defend myself now," he said firmly. "Will we able to make it past the front door, though?"

"Well, if civility doesn't work, I'll just rumor their brains all over the wall," Allison said. "Let's go."

As they approached the guards standing outside, a man came forward, looking burly and ominous. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, you can run inside and tell Reggie we're coming in whether he likes it or not," Allison said, hostility evident in her voice.

All three of them waited, relaxed but alert, as the tension built up. The man took off his sunglasses and gave Allison a polite smile.

"Of course, Ms. Hargreeves. Welcome," he said unexpectedly. "We've been expecting you."

Then his eyes flitted to Luther and Viktor as he said, "Luther. Viktor. I'll escort you inside the house. This way, please."

They followed him inside, looking around at the white all around. Some tune was played on a violin, and Viktor's ears perked up. All three looked at the front to find a woman playing it, looking immaculately graceful.

Just as the tune picked up speed, she stopped.

"What a pleasure to finally put faces to names," the woman said.

She carefully kept aside the violin and its bow before turning back to look at them.

"You must be Allison," she said, coming forward to squeeze her arms. "I've heard so much about you."

All of them gave her confused glances as she turned to Luther.

"Luther... my little space boy," she said as Luther's eyes widened a bit. "I finally get a chance to properly thank you for watching over me on the moon."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked immediately.

But, she ignored the question to turn to Viktor with a smile. "Dear Viktor. I understand we share a passion for the violin."

"It's more of a love-hate thing for me, but..." he trailed off, not knowing how to respond.

After a deep sigh, the woman said, "Come. Come, sit."

They looked at each other as the woman got up to put her instrument at its rightful place, before they went ahead and sat.

"Is, uh, Reggie home?" Viktor asked.

"I'm sure he's puttering around somewhere. Let's us get to know each other a bit first. I'm Abigail, by the way."

They all gave her polite smiles and she pointed towards the food, encouraging them to eat. "Go ahead. Don't be shy. The chef will be cross if you don't."

Meanwhile, Klaus was groaning about his legs again.

"Benjamin," he dragged out. "Why can't we wait for a car to pass or something?"

"We don't have time for that," Ben replied, shuffling forward despite the pain in his ankles. "She's not safe."

"Fine, then at least let's hotwire a car," Klaus said, noticing the slight limp in his legs. "You're about an hour away from your legs going numb, and not in the good way, Ben."

"Shh. We're here," he whispered, suddenly crouching down to peering over a bush. "Look, I can see her."

Klaus looked at where he was pointing, seeing a woman sitting at the window in a room on the upper floor. But the real problem was the guards with big guns standing on the ground outside.

"Okay, you take the guards, I'll sneak in and get her out?" Klaus suggested.

Ben grinned at him and let his tentacles out walking out, startling the people.

Klaus watched as Ben killed and thrashed many people, waiting for all of them to be distracted. Then, he slowly sneaked in, running into the house and looking for the stairs.

Where have all the good men gone

And where are all the gods?

Where's the streetwise Hercules

To fight the rising odds?

But, there were people inside the house too. They had revolvers, not submachine guns, but it was still just as lethal. He thrust both his hands out, summoning ghosts without a problem and setting them on the men and women.

Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?

Late at night, I toss and I turn

And I dream of what I need

He went up the stairs with a giggle as chaos reigned, ghosts having a field day with so many people to kill. Some ghosts were looking on horrified, while some were laughing and cheering, there were bets going on too, on who was going to go after who.

And at any other time, Klaus would stay to watch and enjoy with them. But, he was busy, he had a mission to do.

He'd hated missions back in the day. He'd always been high and useless. But now, with the power of the dead and more importantly, the power of sobriety on his side, he felt more powerful than the short bursts of control that he had many years ago.

He walked calmly and carefully down the hallway, hoping the room that Jennifer was in was here somewhere. And he did find it. But, he also found a familiar face standing outside, with his revolver out.

I need a hero

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night

He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast

And he's gotta be fresh from the fight

"What the fuck...?" the man said, blinking at the man standing beside him. He was the man of his dreams. Scratch that, he was the man in his dreams.

Klaus was just as surprised to see the man who was the love of his life. The only person that he cared for and loved more than himself.

"Dave," he said softly and saw the other's eyes widen.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, regaining his composure and pointing his revolver at him again.

"Dave, I..." Klaus was going to try to make him remember but then realized that for him, there was probably nothing to remember.

In this timeline, it was Klaus and Dave's first meeting.

"Okay, okay, look," Klaus said, raising his hands in surrender as he tried to think of something that would convince him to not kill him but also make him come with him. "Um, these people? They're crazy, okay? All they do is lie and deceive. So, how about you join hands with me?"

Dave scoffed, even if his heart raced at his voice. He wanted to believe this guy.

"You're the one lying right now, pal," he said. Dave knew what his name was. He'd had enough dreams about him to know almost everything about him. But he didn't wanna get his hopes up.

"Look, I'm not, okay?" Klaus said, desperation lacing his voice. "Dave, please. Just listen to me. Just trust me."

The last three words sent a shiver down Dave's spine. They were the words that were uttered by him at their first kiss in his dream. Their first time was also prefaced by the same three words. He had a whole love story with this man in his dream and those words were the crux of it.

He hesitated, and Klaus waited for his decision. Then Dave lifted the gun, and Klaus closed his eyes for the incoming shot.

I need a hero (BANG!)

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light

He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon

And he's gotta be larger than life

Larger than life

The bullet whistled past his left ear and hit a man behind him. Klaus opened his eyes and looked at Dave, who was still a bit skeptical, but willing to join hands.

Immediately after, he opened the door, making Jennifer jump.

"Come on," Dave urged.

She went with them both as Klaus rejoiced internally. Dave pushed them both behind him, holding the gun steadily in his hand. But at encountering the corpses downstairs, he turned back with a stunned expression.

"Did you do all that?" he asked.

Klaus shrugged, sending the ghosts away with a swish of his hand behind his back. Ben entered through the door, looking clean for the most part. Dave raised his gun again as Ben stopped with a confused look.

"He's with me," Klaus yelled out, so that the two didn't attack each other.

"What? Klaus, he's with them," Ben pointed out.

"No, he isn't," Klaus interjected. "He's agreed to help us."

"What if he's just acting?"

"He's not, alright, now can we go? Lonnie the llama is tired of blocking the door of the lunatics' room."

They all ran out, Jennifer's hand in Ben's and Dave's in Klaus's.

Back in the Hargreeves house, all four of them were sitting in awkward silence, trying their hands at small talk.

"Must be quite cold in Canada," Abigail said.

"I mean... yeah. It can be," Viktor floundered. "The summers can be quite pleasant."

"And Luther, what about you?" she asked. "What do you do?"

"I, uh, I work in a science museum," Luther answered after gulping down the tea. "I show them around, teach them stuff and all that."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Abigail regaled. "You've all done so well for yourselves. No thanks to your father, I might add."

"I heard that!" Reginald's voice boomed from behind the elder woman. "My chief of security informs me that the tiny hamlet of New Grumpson, Maine, is still smoldering in the wake of your colossal ineptitude."

The big words made the kids roll their eyes as Reginald leaned in to give Abigail a peck on her cheek.

"Reggie, darling, please," Abigail said soothingly, trying to calm him down.

"Tell me everything I want to know now or suffer the consequences," he said, sounding pretty non-threatening.

Viktor's eyes beamed orange as she got up, her power getting activated, "You first!"

Allison squeezed his arm, encouraging him to sit back down and relax.

"Ah, so it's true," Reginald declared. "I suspected you couldn't have done all that damage au naturel. But how?"

"Reggie. Enough," Abigail warned. "Is this really how you treat our guests? Threats and interrogations? Now, sit down, and we'll have a conversation like a civilized species."

"Guess we know who wears the monocle in this relationship," Allison murmured, making Viktor and Luther snicker under their breaths.

They both sat down as Reginald heaved a sigh.

"Tea, darling?" Abigail inquired followed by a, "No, thank you, darling," by Reginald.

"Now, if I may be so bold as to ask," Reginald started. "How did you regain your powers? Why did you destroy the town of New Grumpson? And... what have you done with the girl?"

"Well, it's kind of a long story, but it all started with these cult leaders named Gene and Jean Thibedeau," Luther said, thinking that he might be the one behind the Keepers as well.

"I'm unfamiliar with those names," Reginald said.

"You know what, the real question, is why you would build an entire town to hold a girl prisoner?" Allison asked.

"Her name is Jennifer," Reginald corrected. "And I wasn't holding her prisoner. I was protecting her."

"Protecting her from what?" Viktor demanded.

"From you, naturally," the elder man replied plainly.

"So, she is one of us," Allison said with a scoff.

"I'm afraid not. She's nothing like you. In fact, she's your complete opposite in every way imaginable. And, she has more power than all of you put together."

"Hey!" A guard yelled out as the door opened and closed.

Diego, Lila, Five, and Clementine came inside.

Diego held up a file in his hand and announced, "We need to talk about Ben."

He explained everything to the group, while pointing at the file.

"It's mostly redacted, though," he finished, handing the file to Allison's outstretched hand.

"Oh, great, so we can't read it or see it," Allison said sarcastically, opening it anyway.

"From what I can tell, this document is from our original timeline," Five explicated. "It explains how Ben died. It refers to it as the 'Jennifer incident'."

"But we already know how Ben died," Luther intervened.

"Okay, then. Tell us," Five demanded.

"Well, it was a tragic accident. Ben, our Ben, died because we failed as a team. Nobody was responsible, and..."

Luther trailed off as his face twisted into a perplexed one.

"And what?" Five asked. Then, he turned to his sister. "Allison, how did Ben die?"

"It was a tragic accident," she said, mirroring Luther's words. "Ben died because we-"

"Failed as a team," Luther joined in.

"Nobody was responsible, yet we were all responsible," Diego, Allison and Luther said together. "Ben Hargreeves represented the best of us. Ben was the Umbrella Academy."

They all finished the lines with confused and scared faces, not being able to understand what Five confirmed.

"What kind of sick party trick is this?" Lila asked Reginald.

"Okay, can any one of you remember how Ben actually died?" Five asked. "Anything?"

"Well, I wasn't there," Viktor said.

"Well, neither was I, but the rest of you were," Five explained as Luther, Allison, and Diego tried to recall the mission. "You think you'd remember something about the death of your beloved brother, but you don't."

"What the hell is going on here?" Luther asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Five asked plainly, turning to Reginald. "Someone's been playing putty with your hippocampus."

"Messing with our memories," Diego concluded.

"As fascinating as this may be, I assure you I haven't the foggiest notion of what this is about," Reginald said.

"You know something, old man," Diego said, walking over to his chair and standing beside Lila.

"You are speculating about the actions of a completely different version of myself from a completely different timeline! That said, it does sound like something I might do."

All of them sighed insufferably at the response, as they fought the urge to strangle the man.

"There may or may not have been a certain clandestine project with a certain clandestine intelligence agency," he narrated.

"Human experiments on the mind," Clementine speculated.

"I should have known," Five murmured.

"Psychological warfare was all the rage in the 60s. But it was only a brief contract. Immensely lucrative."

"So, you can erase memories?" Luther asked incredulously.

"With the human mind, anything is possible, young man," Reginald said proudly.

"If you can erase them, you can restore them, right?" Lila asked.

"With the proper technology," Reginald replied.

"Which you have?"

"Naturally," he affirmed. "I'm sure it's in this building somewhere."

"All right, old man," Five said. "You're gonna put 'em back. Each and every memory that has to do with Ben's death. Because, if you erased the Jennifer incident, that means there was something important enough that you'd take the time to get rid of it."

"I will do no such thing!" Reginald burst out. "We need to track down the girl before it's too late."

"Reggie, please," Abigail interrupted.

"Darling, this is messy work. It could take hours, days."

"Whatever chain of events has been set in motion is ultimately your handiwork. Whatever timeline it happened in, help them. Please."

Her words seemed to do the trick, because he looked at all of them with a defeated sigh.

"Well, then. Let's get on with it, I suppose."

Another A/N: Hello, hello, yes im alive, thank you. This is mostly dedicated to the person who craved the new chapter but its also dedicated to those who waited patiently for it, yall are the real ones. I recently joined uni, my classes are abt to start next week maybe? so thats why i havent been able to post much but now im hoping i get back to it. TUA taglist: @auxiliarydetective @alwayslatetothefandoms (tell me if you wanna be added!) Thanks for reading!!! Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!!

[jagged1]

Ignorance is Bliss, But Those Rosy Days Are Gone

Fandom: Outlast Rating: Teen Characters: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Jeremy Blaire/Waylon Park, Rick Trager Summary: In the midst of a relationship that's slowly drifting away from him, Waylon meets a bar performer who understands. Contains: Cheating, lies of omission, mental health problems, murder. Somehow Jeremy and Rick are the (relatively more) sympathetic characters here. There's also a Spotify playlist. Word Count: ~3300 AO3 link

“Breaking news: A deadly stabbing occurred last night. Local businessman, Jeremy Blaire, was found dead after being brutally attacked. Police are investigating both his death and the disappearance of his fiancé, Waylon Park.”

Stepping into the lounge is always a breathtaking experience. Jeremy has been a regular for years and once they went from 'just dating' to a couple, he promptly introduced Waylon to it. The burst of warm air when the doors open, the warm lighting that spills onto the sidewalk, and the low indistinct murmur of overlapping conversation makes for an overwhelmingly inviting welcome whenever they spend a night out there.

They have an unofficial booth, the circular plush seating perfect for intimate conversation or hosting any number of business partners as needed. It also provides them an unobstructed view of the stage and its rotation of performers.

The latest of them is a startlingly large man, compared to the piano he plays. He makes it look like a toy, but his fingers dance across the keys in smooth, beautiful motions. The first time he sang, Waylon was expecting a deep baritone, but was instead surprised by a softer pitch. It hasn't been long, but he's probably his favorite.

Jeremy chuckles at the way Waylon smiles when it's the man's night on stage. He doesn't mind indulging Waylon's whims and it makes it easier for him to slip away from their booth and into Rick's to discuss business. It's been a growing necessity to meet up during their off hours to manage the new direction of the company.

It's on one of these nights that Waylon runs into the performer at the bar. It's hard not to notice a giant of a man wedging his way through the small crowd, before coming to a stop beside him. The bartender is down at the other end and while he would usually never bother someone on their break, the opportunity to compliment the man is too perfect to pass on.

"Excuse me," Waylon says as he lightly taps the man's elbow, "I just wanted to tell you that you play beautifully." The alcohol he's already had makes his smile softer and looser than it normally would be, but it's fitting.

"Thank you. It's always nice to hear that, especially from regulars, such as yourself." The man smiles back, equally gentle and without the veneer of politeness he's learned to recognize from Jeremy's work associates. It makes Waylon smile just a bit wider in contentment.

Suddenly the man blinks and gives a small shake of his head. "Oh dear, where are my manners? My name is Eddie. May I have yours?"

"Waylon."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Waylon."

"You as well, Eddie."

-

Why’d you have to be so cute? It's impossible to ignore you

-

Waylon starts to give Eddie a friendly nod and a wave whenever he's playing. If Waylon’s alone, Eddie stops by to check how he's doing when he has a free moment.

Waylon almost wants to ask Jeremy if it's alright he's striking up such a friendship with Eddie, but it seems like something he shouldn't speak of. It's not as if it matters, Jeremy's been sitting with Rick more and more lately. He feels a little lonely, but having Eddie around makes it better.

-

"So, how did you get into this line of work?" Waylon sips his drink, licking his lips clean of alcohol. "You play wonderfully. I sort of expected you to want to do something…bigger."

Eddie raises his eyebrow, his own glass of water on the table. "Bigger, darling?" He chuckles. "Is our lovely establishment not enough for you?"

Waylon coughs, a light flush on his cheeks. "You know what I mean. Instead of playing a few nights a week at a, truly, beautiful lounge, I sort of expected someone with your skill to be part of, I don't know, a larger band. Maybe an orchestra or headlining a bigger venue." He shrugs. "I don't know much about the music scene, but you're really good." He takes another sip, hiding his embarrassed expression as best he can with Eddie staring holes into his head.

Eddie looks away and hums, absently tracing his finger around the rim of his glass. "Growing up was difficult. My father was very strict and I took after my mother more than he liked. Singing was something we shared and it helped me get through some rough times. It still helps me now. I don't want to turn it into something more, not when I'm doing just fine. Sometimes my lyrics get away from me, but no one pays much attention to the background music.” At that, he curls his lip up in a sarcastic and sly smile.

"Well it's their loss."

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even more amused.

-

Let's take a trip down a dark place, baby Look for me now, I'm not that crazy Let's talk about what makes you happy

-

It's a rare instance when Waylon gets invited over to Rick's table. They usually try to keep their private lives separate from work, but it's been getting harder and harder to spend time together. Maybe Jeremy thought this would be a good compromise, but he just feels awkward and uncomfortable.

Rick is the type of man who just has an inherently underhanded feel to him. He's done nothing to deserve any suspicion or rude behavior, but Waylon can't shake the feeling of being looked at as a commodity and not a person.

He can't wait until dinner is over and he can excuse himself back to his table.

-

It gets to the point where they might as well not even arrive together with how quickly Jeremy leaves to talk with Rick. He drops Waylon off in the booth, pecks him on the cheek, and rushes off, coat swirling behind him.

Eddie doesn’t ask; he just opens his arms for a hug. He sinks into it gratefully.

-

Is anyone else feeling lonely? It just can’t be me only Losing our cool so slowly

-

One night Waylon follows Eddie home after his shift. He lets himself fall into his bed and out of his head, soaking in his attentive care. Eddie's hands burn on his overheated, sweat slicked skin. His lips and tongue map what feel like every inch of him, but the sting of teeth never comes. When he finally pushes into Waylon, he buries his head in Eddie’s neck, eyes shut tight, and holds onto the brightest thing he has in his life right now.

He stays long enough to shower before heading home to a mostly dark apartment. The only light is in Jeremy’s office and Waylon can feel the heavy and expectant air of the silence through the door.

He hesitates for a moment, shifting his weight back and forth before turning towards their room.

-

They never speak of it.

-

Jeremy cuts back significantly on the amount of meetings he has. They go out on their first real date in months. Eddie and Waylon are suddenly back to being almost strangers with how closely Jeremy sticks to Waylon. It’s everything he’s wanted for weeks.

(He misses Eddie.)

-

The ring shines even in the soft lighting of the lounge and Waylon is terribly aware of the weight on his left hand as the phantom smell of roses lingers.

Eddies catches sight of it immediately and his face twists into something unreadable before settling on a smile.

-

That's what you get for falling again You can never get him out of your head

-

It's late and they're walking home when a huge shadow peels itself away from the wall of an alleyway. Waylon barely has a moment to be surprised before the glint of metal flashing in the lamplight strikes out, right through Jeremy's throat.

A splash of hot blood flies through the air and hits him directly in the face, causing him to flinch and shut his eyes from the sudden impact. He can hear the thud of Jeremy's body dropping to the ground, the sound of someone hitting- no, stabbing someone (Jeremy). He can't breathe and even with his eyes closed he can feel his vision go fuzzy around the edges and the next thing he knows is nothing at all.

-

Eddie follows Blaire to the ground, blood roaring in his ears, drowning out any conscious thought. He needs to get rid of this- this disgusting- this worthless man. He doesn't deserve Waylon, Eddie is so much better than him, so much better for him. He just needs a chance to prove it without Waylon feeling caught between them. He knows what they shared was special, he knows Waylon feels it too, they just need to be free.

The softer thump of Waylon falling manages to break through the fog of his rage. He's always acutely aware of him, has been since that first meeting at the bar. He heaves himself off the bloody, shredded corpse and turns to Waylon, out cold against the pavement.

That won't do.

He tucks the knife safely away into his coat, before kneeling to pick Waylon up in the gentlest manner possible. His face is scratched from the gravel, blood slowly welling up on his cheek and lip, mixing with that filth's.

He carefully shifts his hold on him, settling Waylon's head into the crook of his neck and shoulder. It's where he belongs, where Eddie can keep him safe from a cold world, full of cold people.

He melts back into the shadows of the alley, his precious love in his arms and nothing left in their way.

-

Slowly, Waylon begins to stir. His eyelids feel as if they're stuck together, but for some reason he's hesitant to reach up and rub them. There's something drifting around the edges of his memory he does and doesn't want to know.

He hears the creak of a door opening and closing softly and ignores it. Jeremy has always kept odd hours.

Then something wet touches his face and his desire to remain blissfully unaware vanishes. He flings his arm out, pushing whatever it is away and tears his eyes open, looking around wildly.

It takes a moment to sink in that he recognizes this room, is intimately familiar with it for how little time he's spent here. Eddie stands by the bed, a dark red-brown stained cloth in hand.

Memories rush forward and Waylon gasps, tucking himself into a ball, hands flying up to cover his face. The rough, tacky texture he feels has him jerking them away in horror as he stares. Someone wiped them clean, but there's traces of blood left behind in the grooves of his fingers and his nail folds.

'No…'

"No," he breathes. "No,no, no, no, NO!" Each no grows louder and louder until he screams the last. "That's not- it wasn't- he didn't-" He stops and spins to face Eddie. "How did I get here? Where's Jeremy?" He pleads, gripping the blankets tightly.

Eddie approaches him slowly, as though any sudden movement will set him off. He might not be wrong. Waylon feels like his skin is too tight for him. Whether it's from nerves or the blood, he doesn't know.

"Shh, Waylon, darling, calm down." Eddie extends his arm slowly, hand brushing Waylon's hair out of his face. "You're safe. I brought you here."

He can't help but lean into Eddie’s touch, needing the comfort it brings him. "And Jeremy?"

"Dead."

Waylon's heart stops for a moment, before speeding up and rising into his throat. A creaky "no" escapes from between his lips.

"Yes." It's said so matter-of-factly that he freezes before slumping into himself. Eddie doesn't say anything and lets him absorb it quietly, a comforting presence by his side.

-

I been living in a bad dream

-

Waylon takes Eddie’s offer of a change of clothes and the use of his shower, steadfastly ignoring his reflection as he stands under the hottest water he can stand. By the end of it, he's scrubbed himself a tender, raw pink. He still feels the phantom sensation of dried blood stretched tight across his skin, but the water's already begun to run cold and he can hear Eddie pacing just beyond the door.

It's time to face the music.

He gently pushes open the door, both to be polite and not hit Eddie with it and to delay their conversation just a little longer.

It's not nearly enough time.

Eddie is right there, waiting with his arms wide open. Waylon steps easily into his embrace, tucking himself close. He still feels so cold, but Eddie’s warmth helps. It takes long moments before he can bring himself to ask, "What happened?"

Eddie cards his fingers through Waylon's damp hair, idly twisting the ends around his fingers. "You were attacked. By the time I saw you, he was already gone. I could only think about taking you away from it all and bringing you here."

Waylon shudders and clings closer to Eddie. "What about Jeremy? Did you call anyone?"

"It never occurred to me. I just wanted to keep you safe."

"We should tell someone..."

"They'll likely find him soon. Don't think about it, darling."

Waylon jerks his head up in surprise. "Don't think about it? How can I not? My fiancé's dead, because of some- some lunatic! I don't know who they are, what they want, why this happened- I don't know anything!" His knuckles are white with how tightly he's holding onto Eddie’s shirt, eyes wide and voice cracking shrilly in his hysterics.

"Shhh, calm down. You're safe, Waylon. He didn't want to hurt you, otherwise you wouldn't be here with me." Eddie gently rocks them back and forth, petting Waylon gently.

"But why?" Waylon pleads. "Why did this happen?"

"Why does anyone do anything?"

He has nothing to say to that.

-

Morning comes and Waylon dreads what the news could be saying. He wants to pretend it's not real, that this is a weird dream he conjured up as a "what if he picked Eddie" scenario, but even with their issues, he's not cruel enough to wish death on Jeremy.

Ignoring it won't help though, so he reluctantly asks Eddie to turn it on.

“Breaking news: A deadly stabbing occurred last night. Local businessman, Jeremy Blaire, was found dead after being brutally attacked. Police are investigating both his death and the disappearance of his fiancé, Waylon Park.”

Waylon goes limp in surprise, body slumping to the ground even as his heart jackrabbits in his chest. "Oh my god, I have to call them, I have to tell them-"

Eddie cuts him off, even as he kneels down to rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Tell them what? You didn't see anything."

"But they're looking for me when they need to be looking for whoever ki-" The word sticks in his throat and Waylon tries again. "Whoever attacked us." His voice is a weak, watery little thing, but he pushes on. "And I can't keep hiding here forever, Eddie."

"But I need you, too."

Waylon reaches up to hold onto Eddie’s wrist. "Eddie…" He gently rubs his thumb across the delicate skin there. "I'll come back, I promise."

"You can't promise me that. You didn't before and I need you, Waylon. I can't let you go, not again." His grip flexes on Waylon's shoulder and he's struck by how strong Eddie is.

"Eddie-"

He continues right over him, speech faster and more manic than he's ever heard before. "I love you. I love you so much and I'll do anything for you. I'll be so good to you, so please. Please don't go." His pale eyes are fever bright with unexpected desperation and Waylon has a terrible feeling.

"Eddie," he chokes, "what did you do?"

"What I needed to; he was keeping you away from me, I had to."

Waylon jerks away from his touch, the full body flinch knocking him off his knees and onto his ass. "Nonono, I didn't hear that, no, you're- you're lying, you have to be!"

Eddie surges forward, hands clamping tightly onto Waylon's upper arms, grip tight enough to bruise if he wished. "Why aren't you listening? I said I did it for you, and I meant it! Why don't you understand?!" He searches Waylon's gaze for something, desperate in his frenzy. Whatever he's looking for, he doesn't find it and that wild look in his eyes fades and morphs into something cold and furious. He loosens his grip, dropping one arm entirely, only to raise his open palm up and slap Waylon hard across the face.

He staggers from the force, slumping awkwardly into Eddie's grasp. The crack of skin on skin echoes in the deathly quiet and neither man moves, scarcely evens breathes for one. Two. Three.

The tension in the air suddenly snaps, a horrified gasp breaking the standstill. "Waylon." Eddie's voice is strained and his hand spasms once before letting go completely. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I- I didn't- I- it wasn't-," he stutters.

Waylon can only lie there in shock and pain, struggling to understand.

Eddie holds his head, one hand running through his hair repeatedly in an anxious gesture. The normally neat strands are a mess and Waylon can't stop staring at them, fixated on this truly insignificant detail.

Finally, Eddie manages to speak, his eyes wide and darting constantly between Waylon and the floor. "I never meant to hurt you." He chokes a humorless laugh at Waylon's uncomprehending silence. "I won't blame you for not believing me. I… I thought I was better, but, evidently, I've been fooling myself."

The frenetic energy that's been building up in him suddenly disappears and Eddie looks so defeated that Waylon jerks in surprise.

Eddie misunderstands and hisses in pain. "I know it won't ever be enough, but I'm sorry, Waylon. I'll let you go, I'll tell the police everything, I'll go away and never see you again. I'll do whatever it is you want of me."

That is what causes Waylon to finally catch up, shaking himself awake from his stupor, scrambling to sit upright and grab onto Eddie’s sleeve. "No! You can't!"

"Why not?"

Maybe Waylon should be ashamed, but all he can think is 'I can't be alone.' What he says is "I can't lose you too."

Eddie shudders, body going limp and reaching out gently for his hand.

There's a moment where Waylon struggles. He killed Jeremy. He killed Jeremy. But he also was there for him when Jeremy wasn't and the ache in his chest from losing one, then the other throbs. He doesn't think he can handle losing both at once. He knows he can't.

He slips his hand into Eddie’s and never looks back.

-

I wanna live better days Never look back and say It could have been me

-

A dreamy lounge with a rotating cast of performers continues on. Two near permanently reserved tables become open seating. One pianist resolutely avoids looking at one in particular.

-

Rick screams obscenities down the hall, slamming his fists against the door. "It was a setup, you witless imbeciles!" His hands are beaten bloody, streaks running down his forearms and smeared into his hair where he's shoved it out of his face. "I didn't kill Jeremy Blaire and I didn't kidnap Waylon Park!"

The guard rolls his eyes. "Tell it to the judge. Oh wait, you already did. Didn't work out so well for you, did it, buddy?"

The strangled noise he makes startles a bellowing laugh from the guard.

-

Just once, months after it all ends, he thinks about what could have been. It's a fleeting thought, fluttering at the edges of his mind before disappearing like smoke.

It doesn't matter. He has Eddie and they've pulled off the greatest performance of their lives. He's had enough fantasies to last a lifetime. He settles deeper into his corner of the couch, waiting for Eddie to come home.

That's all he needs.

[theintrovertbean]

The Night is Ours

Aka my poor attempt at writing smut.

WE ARE SMASHING THE COUNTESS TONIGHT BOIS!!!

Hello, hi, and welcome back. It is I, Esz, the biggest Nadi simp ever known to exist. This time, I bring you some sexy stuff. I actually haven't written smut in three years, and tbh, I did have to step out of my comfort zone to write this, so yeah, please, be nice because, man, when I tell you that my bitch ass struggled 💀

It's kinda short, like your dad's pp, but this is what I was thinking about while listening to this song on repeat. It's straight af, I know, but we're going to ignore that. Listen to it while reading if you'd like, but I think that it eventually stops fitting the lil spicy story? Idk.

I should probably say that English isn't my first language (which is true) because that makes every spicy writing better. And it's also probably not your usual smut, but you'll see. I tried to be a bit poetic.

Nadia is afab and MC is as gender-neutral as they can be.

Enjoy, babes ;)

Minors DNI

The Night is Ours

The door closes. They waste no time, and their lips find each other without any hesitation, tender and loving. They have been thinking about the same thing: as soon as it is all over and when they are all alone, they will get lost in each other's arms. And that is what they do, their hands now freely roaming in an effort to feel as much of the other person as they can, to blindly memorize the feeling of every inch of their bodies.

"Hmm…" Nadia breaks the kiss with a small sound, her eyes red with lust. "You are irresistible, my dear. What am I going to do with you?"

"Everything," MC whispers, allowing themselves to run a finger along the Countess' bottom lip. "We are alone now; no one will interrupt us, my love. The night is ours."

She smiles with nothing but love and adoration dancing on her features. "And you are mine, MC. And I am yours." Then the Countess leans down again, capturing MC's mouth in another sensual kiss.

Their attention focuses only on each other, the love, and the passion they share. They are lost in their maze of love, in the feeling of first their hearts and soon their bodies becoming one.

Hands brush against skin as they reach under layers of fabric, lazily shedding them and allowing them to fall on the ground like leaves of silk. There is no rush, and they both let themselves succumb to a slow pace.

The magician's eyes fall on Nadia's body. They have seen her naked before in the baths and while she dressed, and yet never so bare and vulnerable before. She is always so confident in her appearance, as she should be, for she is the most beautiful woman to ever live, but she can't help the blush that appears on her cheeks under MC's gaze.

She is the woman, a goddess meant to be loved and worshipped. Her body must be appreciated, showered by not only MC's eyes but their lips too. Every caress, every faint touch of hers sends a shiver running down MC's spine.

And MC. Precious, dear MC. A work of art, the embodiment of beauty and perfection. A magical creature in both looks and nature. It is no wonder that the Countess is mad with desire.

Minds clouded by lust, they fall on the bed without ever taking their hands off each other, not even for a moment. They both moan, breaths heavy, their need reaching its final peak.

She descends on them first, leaving trails of kisses on MC's body. Her lips burn their skin like fire, but without the pain, for tonight is only about love and pleasure. Nadia explores them thoroughly, and her mouth lingers for a moment more when she finds a spot that earns a particularly good reaction from them. She allows herself to wander, to explore the map that their body is with a hunger for the grandest of treasures.

"Countess..." The magician exhales when Nadia finally rewards them with a single, gentle kiss between their thighs, but she immediately withdraws. She looks at them expectantly, and MC quickly corrects themselves. "N-Nadia..." They stutter, unable to control themselves any longer, but she knows that. The past few days have been a constant torture, nearly getting caught on multiple occasions, always having to stop for whatever reason, and while she loves to tease them, now it is not the time.

Her eyes stare into their soul like a snake, penetrating their mind, body, and soul with sweet, maddening poison while her mouth pleasures them. Nadia is like poison. Delicious and addictive, setting MC's veins on fire whenever she makes a sound, low hums, or even moans that vibrate through their core and rush through MC's entire being, spreading inside them.

She sucks and licks at all the right places, her work intense and purely focused on reliving MC of days of torment. Some of her memories might be lost, but Nadia knows what she is doing, and now, with the magician squirming under her, she makes good use of her talents.

And when MC finally reaches their climax, they can feel her smirk against their flesh; she is pleased with herself. She takes the same route while kissing up their body, with MC still a trembling mess beneath her.

When her mouth reaches their face, she kisses MC again but soon finds herself on her back with the magician straddling her waist. Her eyes widen in surprise, and then she smiles, feeling a sense of pride in her chest. Her MC is not only smart, adorable, and gorgeous but also exceptionally capable. More than worthy of a Countess' affections.

MC's lips brush against Nadia's skin, their hot breath making her shudder, and her hand reaches for their back. When they reach her breast, she inhales sharply, then Nadia whines when their tongue makes contact with her nipple. She tries to grab onto something, her nails digging into MC's back. Her royal composure falls apart, and she is now at MC's mercy, craving every touch they have to offer.

Then they move, going lower until they are on their knees, where they belong, at the feet of the goddess they are so determined to worship tonight, and they find her slick and wanting with desire for them.

The first touch of their mouth makes her whimper, and then she bites her bottom lip, attempting to silence herself quite unsuccessfully. And as MC continues, they feel ecstatic, completely lost in Nadia and desperate to please her, their hunger almost driving them crazy.

Her scent, her taste, the feeling of her, and her, her, just her. Nadia is not only a person but also a feeling. She feels like experiencing love for the first time. She is a sensation in MC's chest that almost makes them cry happy tears. She feels strong, almost overwhelmingly so. She is joy, almost more than MC can bear. She is the sudden realization when all logic is gone, and then it suddenly hits that this...this is what love feels like.

MC gently grabs onto her thigh, gripping and caressing her flesh there and slowly moving upward. Two fingers are now entering her, and her back arches off the bed. She cries out, her voice making the magician groan into her. Her eyes are closed, but her mouth is open as the most delicious of moans escape her lips. With one hand, she's gripping the sheets, and with the other, she's holding MC's head, fingers tangled in their hair, beckoning them to give her more and guiding them towards her sweetest of spots.

The slightly increasing tremble in her thighs is only an encouragement, and they keep going. Her breaths have turned into short pants, and she can no longer focus on anything but her MC and the divine, wicked combination of their mouth and fingers working towards her orgasm. She comes with a loud moan, her legs squeezing the magician's head between them.

Then MC climbs back onto the bed, settling next to their Countess, and despite the darkness, they can see that she is smiling, happy and content, their heart melting at the sight.

Soon, their lips find each other again because the night is still young and far from over. They still have time to further explore their love for each other.

That night, even the moon is shining only for the Countess and her Magician.

[siremasterlawrence]

Second Chances

The Carson family is well known to be harsh, cruel and deeply evil family with certain type of agenda set up to hurt family for a lifetime of hell.

I invited them into a home situation after a New York court appointed them to get some sort of rehabilitation for their god awful type of behavior.

They have been on a court order to be lock in their own house to be re-educated to do much better in the world and I have been to task.

I enter their home taking their keys locking the door shut closing the door and I happily face them with this wicked lock on my fav they are pissed.

Collecting all of their keys, wallets, and the whole family in projects throwing them into a side desk and they can’t escape ever this place ever again.

Clapping loudly my hands immediately point to the couch when they drop onto with my instructions and they plop on to with my command.

I felt bad with the windows closed on one end of it flipping on the knob as the central

air conditioner roars on they relief they felt is apparent.

I unfortunately knee this was all according to my plan, I exit the room letting air circle I collect its self and I want to see the effects take place.

First of the father Rob Carson succumbs in a big yawn his head drops and everything else begins to fade out of existence for him for days on end.

Rob has no idea why his eyes open up to be shocked he is in his bedroom the door open but no noise coming from anywhere in the home.

Something is off he feels quite odd now that he thinks about, closet is filled with an entire new wardrobe, his furniture practically gone for some reason.

He did not seem to care sitting down on his bed awaiting something a strange man walk in to his room, triggering the memories of the last night and how all of that horror is now love.

It was a week ago the man behind taps his shoulder holding his head up he can’t help but stare in to the spiral the bed fell from under him.

His body went in to free fall dropping in to an endless pit of darkness his entire life playing before him on huge long length screen he saw his own nastiness.

The contempt he felt for his self is absolute in that is undeniable deep down his souls is jetting off in to a land of pleasure and pain one man save him.

“You are the man from the court I saw you in my dream and I don’t understand why but you are my Master now.”

“What do you have to say to that weakling my dear Rob Carson big man on the worlds campus.”

“No! Please don’t say that feel so awfully and useless.”

“You hate and love this?”

“I do it feels like I am alive.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes sir”

“Say it”

“Master Lawrence “

“Welcome home”

“Ooooohhhh…aaahhhhh”

“Are you ok?”

“Never want to leave “

“The court wanted you to rehabilitate me”

“You promised them to”

“To what? I did help your whole family “

“Forgot about them”

“Yeah”

“They are fine placed in new homes”

“I look about thirty years younger. Did you do this?”

“You de-aged even more so than you think my friend.”

“How are you doing this?”

“Shouldn’t you be alarmed?”

“Why would I?”

“Most would “

“Fuck you!”

“I am yours”

“Everything I say consumes you “

“I conquered you “

“I am at your service “

“Go stand by the mirror”

“Woah! What the hell?”

“You look amazing “

“How far back will it go?”

“Does it matter

“Of course not “

“Just curious “

“Zip it pussy “

“Do I live for you ?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Face me! I am all that occupies your life “

“Yes Master!”

“Serve me! Accept your place “

“I do “

“Your family”

“Who’s that ?”

“Your friends”

“None”

“Fuck!”

“Do you love me?”

“Oh My God!”

“You are my love”

“My Master”

“My God!”

“Kneel for me”

“Take my hand “

“Kiss me”

“Who am I?”

The end

Second Chances Part 2

Robert Carson’s son Jack is the total hard ass absolute complete jackass who I have lock up in his room for the foreseeable future.

The door cracks open with excitement to his shock, his head lifting in to the air he stood up to stare at me with utter love and respect for me.

The door slams a bit I snap my fingers in an instant turning the lights on with bright light roving on and off covering the room the blinds fall.

His mind goes blank washing over the room spinning in a cycle constantly distracting him in away I knew it is the best way to break him.

I move forward to the bed I shove him on to it my shadow overcomes the wall my hands are in the air and I place it firmly on his knees to me.

Pressing hard it grasp or firmly applying a bit of pressure and even more pressure on to him. I caught his eyes drawing him near to me.

“Do you understand that I am the man of this house?”

“Yes, I am nothing compared to you except a slave.”

“Correct boi, you have been corrupted”

“Yyyeeesss”

“Kneel for me”

“Yes Master”

“Serving you is everything “

“My knight in shining armor”

“Take my hand, kiss it, lick it and suck it”

“Mmmmmm”

“You taste wonderful “

“You are a man”

His eyes fade closing with his back falling in to the bed backwards, instead he hit the airy blue pool washing on to the deck of the backyard. He wakes up rising from the bottom he took the steps at the edge climbing up in wet, skin tight and pumped clothes.

“Hey babe”

“I don’t remember “

“Who you are “

“Yes Master”

“You are aware of me”

“You are my slave”

“My puppet “

“A nobody “

“I love you sir “

“This body is yours to own”

“Break me in half “

“Split me open “

“I am your king”

“You have my life, money and body “

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Sir Yes Master Lawrence Sir”

“I am laying on the ground take advantage of me.”

“Hey dad!”

“What’s up?”

“Who are you calling dad?”

“Daddy”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You are silly “

“Where’s your dad”

“You are my dad “

“He is your brother “

“Oh yeah!”

“Stop! You are funny”

“Hahahaha”

“What’s so funny?”

“You are dad”

“Kiss me”

“Thank you daddy”

“You are breath of fresh air “

“Nope! “

“Bois come up “

“Both of you “

“Kiss me”

“Hug me”

“You make breakfast “

“Slide down “

“Suck me off”

“Worship me”

“Mmmmm”

“Oooohhhh Gggoooddd”

“Ooohhhh!”

“FUCK!”

“I seduced you “

“Manipulate you “

“Your scent “

“It’s wiping me “

“Oh Sir”

“I love you “

The end

[thepearlyone]

Genital Contact Not Necessary

[A story I ended up writing from stuff I learned at Beguiled! Including the title. Please enjoy.]

"So, how do these exactly work?" Kate quizzically turned, facing the small mirror on the side of the hall. The simply furnished passage of Moira's apartment had a very plain side table for two, in between two chairs with white smooth tips on the bottom. On it, the aforementioned Pearls- two earrings of perfect roundness, about 20 mm in size- and which Moira had alluded to.

She idly picked one up, noticing the lack of earring post- instead placing it carefully on her ear, where it stayed precisely in the center. It didn't look too bad...

But it needed a friend- and her arm curiously darted for its twin.

"I mean, I get that I'm supposed to wear these as earrings-" She didn't quite spot the hands slinking behind her- catching her in a tight embrace, each one now keeping her shoulders still and straight, Moira's fingers expertly massaging them as she was pulled into a gentle yet inescapable embrace.

“Oh, those look lovely on you, Kate. I knew that you’d enjoy them…” Moira giggled, gently holding Kate still in her entryway. It hadn’t quite been her plan to start so suddenly, but Kate certainly had been curious about her involvement in the Legion.

Upon noticing her softly shut eyes, Moira purred-

"You know, if you want them to be there permanently, *WE* can make that happen."

Kate squealed, at both the astonishing mention of permanently wearing them, and picturing the perfect iridescent hemispheres now on display in her ears.

Moira paused for a moment to admire them as well, pulling her arms forward to idly rock Kate back and forth, her fingers now smoothly pressing against the smooth white surfaces of Kate's Pearls.

"Mmmmmm... whatever you're doing with your fingers is lovely..." It was nothing more than a slow rolling gasp, but it would suffice. The susurrant pleasure mixed and rolled, intertwining with Moira's gentle rocking. Kate began to smile, the feelings becoming much smoother to her...

"Lovely, isn't it? This is what's called stroking your Pearls. Of course, I'm stroking YOUR Pearls, not mine- so the wording's- okay, I think you understand." Moira eagerly giggled, getting a little too fixated on the idea.

"Mmm, okay. Stroking the Pearls..." Kate nodded, giggling back softly- mirroring what she'd heard.

"Yeah, they release a bunch of endorphins to make you feel good. They begin to mentally bond with you, forming a connection. It's.. hm. It's almost like making a conduit between two points, or connecting a junction box, or-"

Kate interrupted excitedly, pulling free of the grasp she'd been placed in with a slight twirl.

"Ooh! Or like connecting pipes, or like that water flow game! I love that one!"

Moira laughed openly as her dommey bubble was nerdily burst. Kate had expressed interest earlier in how she'd done that silly 'telekinesis' display, despite all of it just being simple Pearl manipulation that even first-month Legionnaire students were experts at. She reached out in her mind, her twin Pearl earrings glowing a soft seafoam green as she ‘pulled’ the chair forward.

"Exactly. These pretty little Pearls are what connect us Legionnaires to the rest of the Legion." Kate gasped, the chair very gently nudging at her calf- and she obligingly sat down, eyes wide with mystery.

"However," Moira continued, "they do filter a lot of their own strength, much like our pipes, so you don't get blasted with the full pressure all at once." Her hands gestured, pulling the table out of the way without touching it- just as she'd done with the chair.

"I.. see. And those do feel very good in, well, their own way." Kate blushed involuntarily, attempting to deflect what types of emotions she'd been feeling moments ago.

"My dear, you're welcome to express yourself- and yes, in any way you please." Moira chortled, using her hands to pull off an orange-purple-white scarf from the side table.

"If anything, that's what this meeting was about." Kate paused, letting the words hang in the air. Her eyebrows furled. Had it been that obvious this whole time?

"You were curious, and I thought that it would be best to introduce certain things... slowly. Most people I've chatted with about this topic don't tend to take certain aspects of myself or the Legion very seriously." Moira waited, ending the sentence with a wink.

Kate opened her mouth- but slowly shut it, letting the silence in between the cracks of the conversation. She nodded- some of it striking home. Her own thoughts had often been shot down, and she knew the pain of being unable to merely mention certain subjects out of the fear of ‘awkward’- much less the stigma of… whatever the Legion must feel like.

"That's enough of that, though. I'd like to hear your thoughts, what that all felt like. It's... delightful seeing a new potential Legionnaire enjoying herself." Moira winked with a grin, sitting down with her arms atop the back of the chair.

“O-oh.” Kate squirmed slightly, blinking a few times while collecting her thoughts- yet not wanting to take the Pearls off just yet.

They did feel so delightful, almost like there was a calming weight to them- though they weren’t burdensome. When she’d been wearing them, they felt weightless- along with her thoughts…

“Well… I really like how they make me feel. There’s a sort of relaxing quality to them, and if they’re like, magic? From everything you’ve said, including previous conversations, you always describe it as an enlightening feeling? And I’m not really sure how that tied into everything- but I’m glad they help you.”

She stammered out a response- meeting Moira’s wide knowing smile. Moira leaned in, petting aside her hair. The flawless iridescent spheres peeked through the forest of Kate’s hair, only for them to be fully put on display.

“And do you know how one makes them... permanent?” Kate blushed, shaking her head as Moira leaned in seductively. After all, the possibility was rather new to her- their chats about the Legion had mostly involved them being a book club- but come to think of it, all of them always had Pearls in their ears…

Moira continued after a pause. “While wearing them, you make a… pledge, of sorts. You orgasm- making a sort of pact with them. They pierce your ears, and make the connection so much stronger.”

Her voice was turning softer, more sensual- a tone of reverence sneaking into her voice. Moira paused, just for a moment- eyes locked on Kate to confirm their mutual interest.

“Not only that, but… you hear our Queen’s voice deep within your mind.”

“Oh.” Kate turned a bright red.

“I suppose you may not have realized this, but there’s an element of us Legionnaires being a hive mind to it as well.” At this point, Moira was very close by- and Kate had turned her head slightly away.

“But that isn’t a problem is it, dear?” Moira grinned, tilting Kate’s chin up as the subject trapped by societal convention- pinned by Moira’s gaze above her.

“N-no, actually… erm, these sorts of things are- well, you called them something like… unserious, before, right? Other people usually have issues with those topics?” Moira nodded slowly, as if observing Kate’s more obvious physical reactions while listening.

“I, erm. Like hypnosis. That’s how we met at that venue- there was a little hypnotist show off in the corner. It… was terrible, very poorly done, but I still really enjoyed it. And if I have to be explicit about it, in THAT kind of way.”

“Oh! An eager subject, are we?” The overly fake Domme voice Moira had previously used slipped back- causing Kate to giggle, blush, and squirm even more.

“Well, Kate- you probably would be fine with the assimilative aspects of the Pearl Legion in that case- welcoming you into our fold, providing optional brainwashing, the voice of the Pearl Queen in the back of your head, or sometimes very much in the forefront- basically, if you don’t have a problem with… well, explicit mind control for the betterment of humanity…” Moira trailed off, her eyebrows peaking slightly. Kate had picked up and was okay with far more than she’d thought- and it wasn’t entirely out of a need to tease her this time.

Kate paused, holding up her hand in an outstretched palm of ‘stop’.

“Moira. I’m going to lay this all out on the table.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

“The way these Pearls make me feel is lovely, wonderful, exciting to think about, and simply splendid. They’re very tempting, but I’m not sure I’m ready for such a commitment yet. I want to be right for the Legion- and with our other discussions in mind, not yet. That’s still a maybe. On the other hand, I’m very much into hypnosis- and the idea of you trancing me is so fucking hot I really really want that if that’s on the table and sorry if it’s too forward of me for right now.”

Moira stared at Kate for a moment, eyes blinking suddenly. Well, the cute gal she’d managed to meet had enjoyed all of it. What a delight- but what a predicament!

“Are you okay with the more, uh, sexual advances happening?” Her voice faltered, asking just for confirmation.

“…I thought that’s why you’d been making them?” Kate now had her own eyebrows furrowed, energetically getting up from the table and crossing her arms.

It was Moira’s turn to go into the Gay Box of Not Realizing Someone’s Flirting In That Way.

“I can see that you’re going to need a moment, so I’m just going to say- yes.” Kate pinned her leather jacket to one of the hooks nearby, revealing the simple prideful stripe of a rainbow across her shirt- the look of which later reminded both of a recent season of a treasured TV show.

Moira stammered a few times, which Kate recognized as needing a moment.

“Would you be able to make us some tea, Moira? And we’ll discuss further then. Let’s just give a bit of space for both of us to breathe.”

///

Kate had since taken off the Pearls, admiring their carrying case. It was somewhat impractical for daily use, but since most of the Legionnaires ended up… well, orgasming for the Pearl Queen, and submitting to Her power, letting the Pearls connect permanently to them- it made sense that such a chunky wooden box would be made more for display than daily use. It was a simple wood exterior, reminding her of any typical jewelry box- if slightly bigger to allow both Pearls to fit in while angling up to meet the eyes of any potential Legionnaire.

“Moira. Are you ready to discuss some sort of consent agreement? Or perhaps… what we were discuss earlier?”

“Yes, now that I’ve had a bit of time to think about it.” She paused, taking a deep breath in between.

“From what I understand, Kate- you’d like to be hypnotized entirely using the Pearls as a focus. Am I to then assume you’ve been hypnotized before, and found the situation delightful?” The question was maybe equally prying as it was priming her subject-to-be, but it was acceptable to the lady across from her.

“That’s right- I really enjoyed the permanence talk earlier, but would like to veer away from that for right now. The swaying and stroking were fantastic too, so if there’s a way to incorporate those- and maybe steer clear of any sort of… hrm, nether regions talk?” Kate’s hand curled around her own hair, twisting with a hint of timidity and a splash of trepidation.

“That’s definitely something I could do- focusing on your arousal entirely independent of anything below your hips. It’s not too uncommon for many Legionnaires- the Pearls eventually become their own erogenous zones. As if they aren’t already!” Moira mused, cueing laughter from both of them.

“I think I’ve got something- if you’re ready, we could proceed to my bedroom?” She leaned forward into Kate, still towering over her- using her posture to communicate deeper understanding and submission.

Kate slipped her hand into Moira’s, which had not been offered previously and was just swaying by the side of her hip. This caused no end of blushing and stammering for both of them, before Kate finally led Moira back towards the bedroom.

“So you know how these work, then, don’t you?” Moira grinned, offering her the wooden box. This was where it all would begin.

Kate nodded, accepting it with open hands as she strolled towards the bed and sat down.

“Of course, but we’re not going into the more… intense aspects. Yet.” Her fingers popped open the lid, revealing the twin iridescent hemispheres.

“And because you know just how wonderful they feel, how relaxed they can help you feel- you know exactly what to do.” Kate blushed with a giggle- noticing how Moira’s tone was now much more seductive. She’d whispered so softly, and she was becoming captivated with its resonance.

“And you want to touch them, don’t you? Go ahead- feel free to answer.”

“Yes.” She smirked, one finger slipping towards them-

“Wait.” Kate’s fingers paused, the next words flowing out of Moira’s mouth.

“Say ‘Yes, Moira’.”

“Yes, Moira.”

“Good girl.” Moira’s big wide grin returned, her own finger beginning to stroke Kate’s shoulders soothingly- eliciting a slow sigh from her.

“And it feels so good to listen to my words, your curiosity being unable to stop you from gently touching the Pearls. You want so badly to just reach out and touch them, to slip your fingers around them and put them back on- right, Kate?”

“Yes, Moira.” Her eyes focused on the shimmering iridescent Pearls, idly tracing her fingers around their edges much like Moira had done.

“It would be oh so easy to just stroke them.. to just feel yourself relax enough to feel good about putting them on- and just imagine how your ears would look wearing them again. How pretty, how proper, how good they feel.”

“Yes, Moira…” Kate squirmed on the bed, shoulders beginning to slump forward while still staring at the box between her hands.

“See? Your body’s already beginning to relax, to let the Pearls feel so good, to let My words slip deeper into your mind. And you want to feel them- to wear them on your ears for Me.”

“I- yes, Moira.” Kate wiggled even more, hand starting to bring them up to her ears.

“Attagirl. We both knew you couldn’t resist putting them back where they belong- they feel so nice, so soothing, so calming…” At this point, Moira had her trapped in a gentle swaying embrace, standing over her while massaging her shoulders.

”You might begin to feel even more and more relaxed, or you might begin to feel everything- all that stress, tension, drawing into the Pearls and concentrating there. Either way, you’re just right here, in My arms…”

“Yes, Moira.” She tapped Moira’s arm twice with one finger, following the guidelines they’d set out earlier.

“Is it the power of the Pearls? Or is it My words, drawing you deeper, helping you relax... drawing all that stress away…”

“Yes, Moira…” Kate’s arm trembled slightly, pressing the second Pearl in with a soft gasp. Both of them felt connected, pulsing softly with such blissful energy.

“It doesn’t matter- it only matters that you obey… that you say Yes, Moira- that you stroke your Pearls and relax…”

“Yes, Moira…” Kate could barely keep her eyes open amidst each soothing wave of iridescent perfection- she could feel Moira’s breaths as they slowly synced up… in, out, pushing any other thoughts away.

“Good girl. Such a good girl, wearing pretty Pearls for Me- letting those thoughts slip away…”

“mmmmm…” The soft moan was all that was left of her conscious mind, overwhelmed and subsumed by the pleasure.

“Attagirl.” Moira’s fingers danced atop their white surfaces, slowly and carefully tracing perfect circles on the Pearls in front of her.

“You’re being so good, giving in to the hypnosis- the powerful pretty Pearls in your ears drawing you deeper… helping you relax and submit.” Her arms were cradling Kate now, having slipped behind her.

“giving in… goooooood.” Moira giggled at the blissful remark from the dreamy headed gal in her arms.

“That’s right. It feels so good to give in to the hypnosis, to let that softness bring you deeper under the Pearls’ control for now.”

“give in.. control.”

“Very good. May I reward you with a kiss on the cheek? Say ‘Yes, Moira’ if I may, and one long tap if I may not.” Kate dazedly tapped twice, clearly just a little bit confused.

Moira leaned in and gently kissed her subject’s cheek. A gasp drew itself from Kate’s mouth, and Moira could see just how deep she’d become now- the Pearls were truly excellent assistants.

By this point, Kate could feel the Pearls softly pulsing with their rewarding pleasure- something that Moira felt all too intensely now that she was a full-blown Legionnaire.

“Very good, Kate- I’m sure you know what it feels like to relax. You’re very clearly enjoying this, I can tell. You’ve got the cutest trance-face.”

Kate giggled, a blissful smile wide across her face, eyes closed shut. It was like soaking in a bright pool, just on the top of it- only it was an iridescent smooth seafoam-glowing pool now.

“Would you like to tell Me what it feels like, Kate?”

“Yes, Moira…” The response was automatic, almost robotic- exciting Moira in a way she hadn’t expected before.

“feels… relaxing, calming, soothing.” Those were expected responses.

“Pearls very good. Want to keep wearing… feel wonderful, feel like…” Okay, those were pretty normal as well. Everyone who truly desired them *did* enjoy them deeply.

“slaaaaave…” The blissful exhalation was followed by Kate’s hips bucking, a clear show of the arousal she felt.

“Red.” Moira carefully hugged Kate.

All of a sudden, everything slowed for Kate- the soft pulsing from the Pearls reversed, pushing the thoughts and consciousness back into her head.

“Kate… That’s not something we’d discussed, but that’s also something I’m VERY eager and curious about. However, you’re not able to negotiate that right now- so I have to stop you right there.”

Another deep breath from the two of them, letting their minds relax and refresh- one coming back up from the deeply entranced state, the other coming off the high of such intimate control.

“Coming back up for me in three, two, and one-” Moira snapped her fingers, lifting them up off of Kate’s arm. Her other hand and posture supported Kate while she did so- but her subject’s finger indicated she wished to lie there for a few moments, so Moira withdrew slightly.

Kate silently lay back on the bed for a few moments. She’d been cognizant of what she was doing for a little while now, but it still felt so… real. When Moira pulled the Pearls away just for a bit, she’d felt her heart plunge for a few seconds- but it was a quick recovery. It made sense that people could enjoy them so deeply.

“Moira?”

“Yes, Kate?” Moira was just behind her now, pulling her up into a soft embrace on her lap-

“Could we have more tea, and maybe discuss that? That might be something for… much later.”

“More tea would be lovely, dear.” She giggled, earrings glowing a soft seafoam green as her kettle was moved back into position from its resting point on the counter and switched on.

(adding a read more?)

[tsintotwo]

[Being With Morpheus x MidnighTS tracklist. (Part 2/4)] 

You’re On your Own, Kid

They corner you right after dinner. You had a feeling this would happen. All throughout, they were watching you. Not subtly, either. You don’t think Desire does subtle.

If fire were frozen into a person, it would be them- that’s what you thought when you saw the infamous sister-brother for the first time tonight at dinner. Family dinner for the Endless. It’s bizarre, it’s in danger of almost being meaningless under the weight of its own magnitude, and it’s happening. It’s also making you feel unbelievably out of your depth.

Morpheus brought you with him, and you know this is no small matter. First of all, you are (were? You are not technically alive anymore) a human- far, far from being an Endless. Secondly, you aren’t family- or at least that’s what they argued. ‘She is’, you heard Morpheus declare, resolute. ‘She is my equal half now, and is to be included in all decisions that I should be a part of.’ It made your inside glow with a fierce sort of pride, love, and gratitude. They relented in the end, and welcomed you, some more enthusiastically than the others. You were determined not to let Dream down. You held your dignity. You presented yourself as capable and intelligent. You observed, you emulated their sense of gravity. At least, you tried to. It’s increasingly harder.

You’ve been with Morpheus for a while now, and you haven’t even gotten used to his aura fully yet. Often, just watching him do things, talking to him, seeing him, it hits you- how other he is, just how powerful and vast- it’s almost impossible to wrap your head around it. And that’s just Morpheus, the one you love and are loved by. Here, with not only him, but all the Endless (well, except the Prodigal), this space feels like it’s vibrating, humming, relentlessly buzzing with an uncontrollable energy. And you’re the only one it affects, because you’re the only puny human among all these millennia-old beings of power.

You could ignore that. You could. So you feel nauseous, a band of pain wrapping increasingly tight around your forehead, your limbs feel jerky and clumsy. Okay. You could get through this. But the dinner discussion quickly turned into things and decisions about your universe- not your planet, mind you, not just humankind, the universe, and they all have something to say, do, they all can influence those. They are deciding the fate of everyone in existence. And you- you’re here too. You’re listening. And you’re drinking soup.

You’ve never felt like this before. This thought has legitimately never occurred to you. But now it does. That maybe…maybe you and Dream don’t belong together. That he shouldn’t be with you.

Desire noticed your edges fraying, you could tell. Morpheus had warned you about them- they’re dangerous, manipulative, have a personal vendetta against him, and never not scheming. They saw your fidgeting fingers, shifty glances, bitten-down lips, and they smiled, they marked you. You knew then that they would come after you. And now they have.

‘A pretty little thing.’, they say, circling you slowly, smile wide, golden eyes aglow and crinkling with wicked pleasure. ‘My darling brother certainly knows how to choose them.’

Them?

‘Every move is calculated’- you remind yourself. They have immediately brought up others- exes Dream might have- to unsettle you. You can’t pay heed to this.

You don’t, and you watch them, quiet. You have to play smart, and the first step to play is to know your opponent. They push further when you don’t react, ‘…but none of the other ones were so ordinary, so my dear sibling’s high standards have quite degraded, I must say.’

‘Must you?’, you say, trying to keep yourself calm- they knew exactly where to hit you, ‘You can say nothing at all and leave me alone right now.’

‘Oh, no, no.’, their voice is silky smooth, and they are so close, you feel their breath on your neck, ‘Do not take offense. I merely made an observation. You might even learn something, if you pay attention.’

‘Such as?’, you say despite yourself.

They’re in front of you now, and they reach out and touch your chin, lifting your face up lightly. Their presence makes you feel liquid, something not entirely possible to be held within a body, slipping and dripping through the cracks, taking unknown shapes. You are standing here rigid, but you feel out of control.

‘Pretty things are good for pretty fucks’, they say, every word clear and sharp, and still somehow seductive, ‘and Dream is not one for indulging in such pretty times for long, let alone forever. Trust me, I should know.’ An angel’s smile, a wolf’s smile, ‘He is vulnerable now, not many days since his imprisonment ended- and he thinks he changed, he found love, he can be with a human forever. He cannot. I am his sibling. I know him. Take it from me, poor little dear, he will be bored of you soon.’

Isn’t that what you were thinking over dinner, when they were being Endless and you were still just you? That you’re so far beneath what they are. Maybe you shouldn’t have wanted Morpheus. Shouldn’t have loved him. You don’t deserve him. And you shouldn’t be here.

You try to find your voice. But nothing comes out. You feel so alone, suddenly. 

Desire runs their palm along your arm, what looks like genuine sympathy in their face. ‘This must be so difficult for you. Trying to fit in? Trying to be equal to an Endless while you are not even a goddess or a queen or- oh. He was cruel to do this to you, my brother.’ They lean in and whisper in your ear, ‘But I would never be so cruel.’

You step away. It doesn’t seem to bother them. They close the gap again, lifting up their hand to trace their finger on your cheek, ‘It is not too late. Come with me, and in my realm, you will know your place. We could have such fun, pretty little girl, you and I-‘

‘What’, Morpheus’ voice is like the crack of a deadly whip, ‘is going on here?’ Even Desire flinches a little.

They recover quickly, drop their hand, and smile at him. ‘Just getting to know the lady, dear Dream.’

‘Are you.’, Morpheus comes to stand beside you, placing one hand on your waist.

‘Oh, yes. She is something, isn’t she? I merely suggested she could visit me some time, and she could very well be agreeing to the idea right this moment if you didn’t firghten-‘

‘I-‘, you open your mouth, indignant. Then you stop, because Morpheus is laughing silently. That is not what you expected, and neither did Desire. They watch him, wary.

‘Oh, my sibling’, says Morpheus, still that smile on his lips, eyes glinting and sharp, ‘you would love that, would you not? Because you know. My knowledge of humans is not expansive like yours is, and still I know, so you would too- that I have found something special. Someone special. Now you are jealous, and you want her for yourselves. Oh, Desire, sometimes you are so predictable.’

Desire curls their lips, jutting up their chin, the smile gone, ‘Please, brother. I do not nurse such high notions about any human, or any being, for that matter. Nobody or nothing is special. Everyone is made of variations of desire-‘

‘That we might be.’ Dream pulls you close, arms around your back and waist, and starts caressing hair away from the side of your face, (what is happening?)- ‘that does not negate what I know’, your hair in his fist, Dream’s lips are next to your ear, but he’s looking at Desire and talking to them, ‘or what you want.’

Dream kisses you on the mouth, slow and full, while Desire watches silently. You have just a fraction of a moment to think- ‘what- this is weird- but maybe not- you mean, what even is weird anymore- also, not like they are blood-related- do they even have blood’- but then every thought evaporates, because Dream is being excruciatingly sensual and deliberate, his lips and tongue on yours like liquid heat, and the physical presence of Desire makes you feel like a pile of dry tinder with a matchstick just thrown on. Alight, you quiver in Dream’s arms as his open mouth trails along your jaw and throat, then hungrily kisses your shoulder. By the times he has stopped, your knees are so weak you feel like you won’t stand straight. But Morpheus holds you, slowly turning you around, your back to his front, his arms around your stomach. You’re both facing Desire.

Desire’s eyes are like twin fiery nova, their lips pursed. After a pause, they smile. ‘You have to do better than that, Dream. Such a boring show.’

‘Is that why you were watching the whole time?’, you say, ‘And didn’t you just now unclench your fists?’

Morpheus shakes slightly with laughter. Then he says, ‘You heard my lady, Desire. And,’ his arms get tighter around you, his voice gets sterner and dangerous, ‘She is my lady. Listen very carefully, sister-brother: this is my woman, my partner. I know you are burning to have her as your own. But she-’ Dreams chin brushes the curve of your neck, his hands slowly travel up and down your body, caressing your stomach, breasts, arms, thighs over your dress as you shiver, ‘every part of her is mine and mine only. Do not dare touch her. Do not even stand near her ever again. If you do…’

Dream is behind you, so you don’t get to see the look on his face. But Desire does, and what they see must be terrible, because they don’t look smug anymore. They say, after a beat of silence, ‘We will see, won’t we? But this is a matter for idle thoughts, and my time is better spent on things other than your misguided escapades. Farewell, sibling.’ 

They vanish in a shower of gold sparks.

You turn around and hug Dream. It feels so good, just you alone with him, the malice gone from the air. He holds you, and he says quietly, ‘I apologize, my lady. The conversation at dinner occupied my thoughts, and later Destiny wanted to discuss a matter with me alone- I did not attend to you enough tonight. I never should have let Desire prey on you.’

‘I could handle it.’, you say against his shoulder, because now you know. Momentary confusion is one thing, but you don’t believe that you and Morpheus don’t belong together. You never really did, and you never will. And you know- as long as he claims you as his, you are never alone, never helpless, never on your own. ‘I promise I wouldn’t have abandoned the Dreaming for ‘The Threshold’ or whatever.’

You said it as a joke, but Morpheus pulls away and takes your face between his palms, eyes boring into yours, ‘No, you would not.’, he says, voice cutting like a jagged, sharp rock, ‘because I would burn both realms down to ashes and cinder if you did. You. Are. Mine.’

You haven’t seen this side of him before. It’s possessive, and dark, and textbooks and good people say you should be afraid, maybe. But you are his queen after all, and you wouldn’t be if there weren’t darkness in you too. So what you feel is wonder, and love, and lust, and you want him right now, and you know he wants you too, so he pulls you under his cloak, and let them wonder where you two went because you’ve disappeared into a place of breathless heat and peaceful bliss.