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artificialqueens · 11 months

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🏳️‍🌈 You Call My Name, What a Strange Magic (Halldoll) - Mar

A/N: Day 28 of Mayhem: Farmer’s Market

Nicky’s magic flows like rivers in her veins, calm and constant.The way Jaida says her name is a tidal wave that lifts her off the ground and sends her heart spinning.Strange, strange magic.

Tags for @duckprintspress: rpdr fanfiction, may trope mayhem, jaida essence hall, nicky doll, jaida x nicky, magic au

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47698924

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The witch sprays the budding flowers with river water, and they gratefully unfurl their petals. They sway in their pots, gleaming under the sun and grabbing the attention of every passerby in the farmer’s market. They are Nicky’s pride and joy.

An older gentleman leans down and adjusts his glasses to see them better.

“How much for a flower?”

“A childhood dream, or a poem to a lover.”

“Ah, when I was little I wanted to be a train. Not a train conductor, mind you– the whole thing!”

“Really?” Nicky says fascinated, jotting it all down in ink, blotting the page with how fast she is writing. Stupid witch protocols and their aversion to pens.

“Yes,” the man says with a smile as he looks far into the distance. His memories float in thick purple clouds from his mouth to Nicky’s pen. “I wanted to travel long distances and bring people to their loved ones, and I wanted those loved ones to chase after me as I pulled out of the station, waving goodbye until we were just a spot in the distance.”

“That was a good dream,” Nicky says, smiling brightly at the gentleman. She sets down the last dot after the words and the ink glimmers in the paper before settling down. She picks carefully between her flowers, and finds the perfect one for this man. “Here, take it home. Tell it all your worries in the morning, and all your glories at night. It will take it all, good and bad, and it will grow.”

“Bless you,” says the man. He tips his hat goodbye.

A teen shows up not long after, hair dyed the same color as the only flower left. They wave at the flower and the flower waves its leaves.

“Hi! Is this cutie for sale?” says the teen, swaying to the rhythm of the flower.

“Yes, and it looks like it likes you,” Nicky says with pleasure. She only sends her flowers to the best homes.

“I like you too,” the teen says to the flower. “How much?”

“A childhood dream, or a poem to a lover.”

“Oh, man, I’m not much of a poet… and I don’t remember my childhood. Do you take, like, any coin? Like silver or bronze? Crypto?”

Nicky sighs. The exchange rates are brutal, but so many humans insist on using money.

“I can leave it at twenty dollars, plus the warmth of the sun in your face.”

“Deal!”

The teen ruffles through their backpack and puts two crumpled ten dollar bills in Nickys hands, plus some loose candy they find, as a tip. Nicky beckons them closer. She holds their cheeks, chants the words, and watches their cheeks go from rosy to pale, their lips from pink to blue.

“T-that’s c-c-colder than I th-thought,” they say through chattering teeth.

“It goes back to normal in just a few moments, I promise,” Nicky reassures them with a twinge of pity. She gets a stone out of a thermo box and holds it tightly between her hands. The stone absorbs all the warmth. “Stay in the sun for some minutes, and I always recommend a hot coffee,” she says, pointing to the coffee cart at the end of the aisle. “If you tell the girl that the witch sent you, you’ll get a discount,” she winks.

“Sick, thanks,” says the teen, already looking less blue.

They pick up the flower with great care, and they are off.

With the very last of her flowers sold, Nicky begins to clear out her stand. It is so early that she can take a turn around the whole market and be home by sundown. She needs herbs, honey, and questions voiced by children, and she needs time to gather enough courage to visit the coffee cart.

Some days, she has to avoid it entirely and leave the market through the other side. Some days, when she gets close to it, her heart beats loud as a battle drum and all of the squirrels around the park climb down from the trees, hypnotized, and march in a long row after Nicky, scaring the shoppers. Nicky has been told before that, if she can’t get a hold of her powers, they won’t let her rent the stand anymore.

She feels more confident today, however, languid and weakened from the new moon, and her magic is easier to constrain. She takes her sweet time shopping around and not a single squirrel joins her. She takes the offered samples and pretends to eye the products that may be knit blankets or clay pots or wooden toys for all she knows. The coffee cart holds all of her attention.

Nicky steadies her breaths and her magic flows calmly through her veins, constant as a river. There are some people chatting in front of the cart, waiting for their orders, enveloped in the condensation their words form in the cold. It blends with the steam from their coffees, warm as the smile of the girl who’s passing them out. Nicky’s chest burns like a small sun.

The cart is painted a neat white that stands out among the wooden market stalls, and the name is written on the front in elegant cursive letters that Nicky has found herself copying in the margins of her potions books.

Essence

Nicky walks up and the owner welcomes her yelling.

“Nickay!” Jaida screams, twisting the last vowel of her name until it becomes an entirely new sound.

Multilingualism and verbal spells have made Nicky particularly sensitive to sounds. In her second year at the witch academy, one of her classmates tried to bring a chair closer with the accedo spell, but she accidentally said accendo and lit the whole thing on fire. Nothing like watching someone get their eyebrows burned off to learn the importance of phonetics.

When Jaida pronounces her name in that unique way, it’s like Nicky has an entirely new name that belongs to Jaida alone. It feels like a type of magic. That would certainly explain the radiant happiness that manifests in Nicky’s heart at such a simple word. She tampers it down and tries to sound casual.

“Ça va, Jaida? Easy day?”

“Slow day,” Jaida sighs in a low voice, just for Nicky. “I’m dying of boredom out here. Nothing but cappuccinos all day, a girl can only do so many cappuccinos, Nicky! Look at this,” she says, putting a bag of marshmallows in Nicky’s face. “I got these to make hot chocolates, and I haven’t made a single one,” she pouts, making Nicky melt.

“Well, but now you have them for tomorrow, right?”

“I’ve already downed half the bag. You want one?”

Nicky laughs and accepts a marshmallow out of politeness, immediately regretting it when her fingers get all sticky. By the time she finishes it, masking her disgust, Jaida has eaten three more.

“Alright, enough,” Jaida scolds herself with her mouth full, putting the bag away. “What about you? You done already?”

Nicky nods.

“The flowers sell very quickly. I almost cannot keep up.”

“How long does it take to grow them?”

“It takes some weeks. They grow faster in the winter, because I leave the sprouts by the fireplace and they love that. They’re inside plants, you know? They want to be cozy and hear people talk around them. The hard part is that I have to spend so much time inside with them, because they don’t grow if they don’t hear human voices.”

“Girl, leave them with me for a day, I’ll give them back six feet tall. Ain’t nobody quiet in my house.”

“Don’t offer twice, I would love to drop them off somewhere and have a free day.”

“Is there any money in the flower nanny business?”

“Jaida’s daycare for magical flowers?”

“Jaida’s kinder-garden!”

Nicky lets out an undignified snort at the joke which she covers by coughing.

Jaida smiles and leans on her elbows on the counter, closer to Nicky.

“So like, do the flowers speak any language?”

“They should understand every human language, in theory, but I haven’t tested them a lot. I’ve only tried French, English, Latin, Greek, Darija, and ehh, Catalan… and some Spanish.”

“Oh, only those. Pretty shoddy scientific work, Nicky. That will never pass the board.”

“Well, luckily, the board is just me.”

“Paper written by Nicky for Nicky, peer reviewed by Nicky from the Nicky council of Nickys.”

It’s so silly, but Jaida’s voice makes Nicky giggle the more she talks, and she has to rein it in before she attracts another flock of common loons. They’re not even native to the area, but it has happened before. Jaida made a stupid pun and a murmuration of birds obscured the sky, swirling over Nicky’s head and mimicking her laughter. The flock followed her all the way home. They wreaked havoc on her garden.

“Oh, I was gonna ask,” Jaida says, “do you have any more of that cream you gave me for joint pain? It’s so good, I finished the sample already.”

“Did it help?” Nicky says with a luminous smile.

The cart’s light bulbs over their heads shine dangerously bright in a spike of electricity. Jaida looks at them with worry, but Nicky hides her teeth and the light goes back to normal.

“I better unplug these for a minute,” Jaida says.

The cart gets a little dimmer, though still warm in the gray evening. Nicky leans on the counter like Jaida to see her better.

“What was I telling you…” Jaida asks, squinting her eyes. “The cream, yeah. Yes, it was crazy good. I swear that every winter brings some new ache, and this year it was my knuckles’ turn.”

She flexes her fingers with a pained expression, and Nicky already knows how she’ll be spending her evenings the next few days.

“I can make more by Wednesday,” Nicky says.

Monday, if I don’t sleep.

“Really? You’re incredible!”

Her aching hands take Nicky’s with no warning. Thank God Jaida unplugged the lights, or the glass bulbs would have exploded over them. She’s pretty sure the streetlights are getting brighter.

“Of course,” Nicky says, clearing her throat.

She takes back her hands and rubs one over her heart in circles. Counterclockwise, like she was taught, like she does with scared wild animals or sick babies who enter her hut crying in their mothers’ arms, needing to be soothed before they can be healed.

She needs to soothe herself before she can make the offer.

“If you want,” she says when her heartbeat settles down, “I can do a quick lay-on-hands. It’s not as good as the cream, but it lasts almost a day.”

“Really?” Jaida says excitedly. “What’s that, like a massage?”

“Something like it, yes.”

Nicky sets her hands on the counter with the palms up in invitation. Jaida gives her hand with unquestioned trust, and Nicky is so grateful for the complete ease that has marked all of their interactions since they first met. Many humans are wary of her, and some brave souls have even tried to attack her, but not Jaida. Since the very first day, she has only shown curiosity and admiration for Nicky’s craft. Nicky treasures that trust, and repays it whenever she can. Like now.

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“The knuckles, mostly. My wrists kind of crack at night, like a little old lady’s.”

“Okay, relax your hand,” Nicky instructs. Jaida lets her hand rest entirely on hers.

Nicky presses her thumbs on Jaida’s wrist. She closes her eyes. For the first time since she approached Jaida’s cart, she sets her magic free.

It flows from the depths of her mind to her throat, piling incantations on her tongue that she has to swallow down, because it is not the time for words. The magic moves down her arms, burning pleasantly in her palms, and finally reaches her thumbs. When it brushes Jaida’s skin, it recoils.

“This is where the problem is,” Nicky says as she opens her eyes and digs her thumb in the middle of Jaida’s wrists, right on her pulse. It picks up under Nicky’s touch. Jaida must be excited to watch the whole process; she has always shown herself fascinated with magic. “Your body has its own healing energy that flows through your veins. There is something blocking it here,” she runs her thumb over the wrist, “which is why your hand is not curing– healing, I mean. Relax again.”

With some effort, Nicky makes her magic seep through Jaida’s skin. Two paint strokes of radiant blue flow from her thumbs into Jaida’s bloodstream, and although they bump against the blockage, Nicky pushes through and they both see how the magic traces blue rivers down Jaida’s hand and fingers. The beautiful blue glows a dazzling white for a second, and then it is over.

“Can you move your fingers?” Nicky asks in a gentle voice.

Jaida flexes her fingers one by one, entranced.

“That’s wild…” Jaida says, a little breathless. “It doesn’t even hurt, you– you are incredible.”

“It’s just a mid-level transmutation,” Nicky says, trying with all her might to keep her cheeks from turning pink. “Any witch can do that.”

“Are you fucking with me? Nicky, you made literal magic. Let me be impressed,” Jaida urges, squeezing Nicky’s hand.

The gesture could trigger a reaction if Nicky wasn’t entirely captivated by the way Jaida is looking at her. That too, Nicky has learned over time, is its own type of magic.

“Do you want to give me your other hand?” Nicky says, just to have something to say.

Jaida nods and only looks away from Nicky’s eyes to watch the blue rivers form under her skin again.

“Are you gonna let me pay you this time?” Jaida says when they are done and she can flex her fingers painlessly.

Nicky refused to charge her for the cream, using the excuse that it was a sample. Samples don’t usually last for a month, but oh well. Nicky never claimed to be a business woman.

“No, we never charge for this.” When she sees that Jaida is about to argue, she adds: “It is bad luck to heal for money.”

Jaida squints her eyes.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It is bad luck to lie,” Nicky says, biting her tongue.

“You’re just saying whatever, now,” Jaida says, and pushes Nicky’s shoulder. A hard feat, with the counter between them, but Nicky still lets herself be moved by Jaida’s force.

Nicky would like to stay there until the sun sets and the last of the stands is cleared, but she has plants back home waiting for their bedtime story, and ingredients to gather and macerate in oil if she wants to get that cream done in time.

In spite of Nicky’s protests, Jaida sends her home with a tall cup of free coffee made exactly to her taste and a honey-apple roll so fragrant that it fills Nicky’s house with its scent when she leaves it half eaten on her kitchen table. The sweetness and warmth of the drink pools in Nicky’s stomach, and every step home feels like she’s walking on air. For a short second, Nicky wonders if Jaida is hiding powers of her own. But Nicky understands her own heart too well. She knows what is happening, and she knows what kind of magic it is.

The flowers grow heart shaped leaves and pink petals that night, dulcified by the honey in Nicky’s voice. When she takes them to the market on Monday, they are all gone in an hour. Nicky sets one aside, and takes the flower and a tub of healing cream to the cart at the end of the aisle.

Pride Challenge Points: 385

#rpdr fanfiction #may trope mayhem #jaida essence hall #nicky doll #jaida x nicky #s12 #magic au #witch au #fic challenge #mar #concrit welcome

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astroboots · 10 months

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Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[Previous issue] [Next Issue]

You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer.

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire.

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood".

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time.

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book.

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait.

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies.

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman.

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter.

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it.

This note didn’t work.

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry…

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you!

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook.

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot.

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you.

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note.

It doesn’t look like he came.

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen.

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video!

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews.

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had.

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression.

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around.

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go.

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly.

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through.

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow.

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill.

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now.

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek?

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why.

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen.

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness.

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it.

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast.

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth.

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do.

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail.

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest.

You want to see him again.

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people.

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail.

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by.

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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blueraineshadows · 7 months

Text

Lured

Dark!Leander x F!MC x Dark!Sebastian

Triggers: NSFW 🔞 smut, sexual language, dubious consent at the start, dominance, choking, capture and imprisonment, manipulation, blindfolded, tied up character, branding, edging, bisexual characters.

Long fic. Please check the triggers.

The side street off Knockturn Alley was dim, shadows long and stretched in the low evening sun, the few people about kept their heads down and hoods low as they scurried or lurked. Soon, the shadows would consume the little light that was left and the dark would bring out those who liked to dabble in mischief and mayhem.

MC kept her vigil at the end of the little cobbled street, the buildings leaning forward as though tired of existence as she kept her eyes trained on a particular shop at the far end. Her client had been very helpful in their directions. Their stolen artefact was definitely not in the care of Borgin and Burke, the establishment far too well known for the likes of this particular trinket. This item had been stolen by a thief who was out-witting even Burke's best pilfering agents but nobody knew who it was.

MC had spent years tracking down artefacts, trinkets, treasures, even luring people out of their hiding places when the call came. She was good at it and earned good coin for her efforts. This skilled thief was stumping even the Ministry, so when this client had come with information and the job to track this item down, MC had leapt at the chance.

She was on the scent, the shop in sight, and come nightfall she would be going in. She had her suspicions, her contacts had whispered some clues that had tickled at some memories buried deep in her stash, and she wondered if her instincts were right.

....*....

The front door would be too obvious, but after scouting out the exterior of the small shop, a curious frown marred MC's brow. There was enchantments at work here. Circling the building made one arrive at the front without seeing anything but solid brick. It was the front door or nothing. For a shop, it was well guarded, and her suspicions hiked up another notch, an eager excitement teasing at her.

Peering through the grimy shop window revealed no more than a display of books and nondescript items, nothing that stood out or encouraged one to step inside, and she wondered if maybe her client had been wrong. This didn't look like a place for the dark and forbidden, but then appearances could always be deceptive. Her curiosity was piqued, and she determined to dig a little deeper.

There was only one way to find out. Swift and sure, MC clicked the lock with a flick of her wand, and she slipped inside, closing the door ever so carefully behind her. The interior was dark, the scent of old books and dust in the air as she stepped silently past racks of more simple fares. The counter was dark wood, the register an old brass affair, and a glass lamp stood unlit beside it.

It was a curiosity shop, but the dust betrayed the lack of custom, and the possibility of it being a front for something else was all too clear. She stared curiously around, her finger tips trailing along the spines of old tomes as she neared the door that led to the rear of the shop.

A creak of wood behind her made her still. She held her breath, ears pricked up as she listened. Another creak, and the subtle low breaths of another in the room reached her ears. Her fingers, slender but strong, gripped her wand, heart pounding as she waited.

It was not uncommon to face a skirmish, she was well practised in it, and was rarely afraid. She had faced bigger and badder things in her time. Her senses strained, every fibre on alert towards the presence behind her. She wondered if her suspicions were about to be confirmed. Was it him?

She barely flinched as the tip of a wand slid against her throat, warm breath fanning against the edge of her hood. Fingers gripped at the black fabric near the top of her head, a strange shiver sliding down her spine as it slid back to reveal her hair beneath. The wand tip pressed deeper against the flesh of her neck and she swallowed, tense and curious.

"Of all the witches in the world that could have walked into my shop in the dead of night, it would have to be you wouldn't it?"

MC felt her heart stutter behind her ribs at that low, soft voice. Her mind scrambled, searching for a memory that shivered in fog. She knew that voice. He knew her. But it was not the voice she had been expecting. MC was thrown, caught off guard at her suspicion being squashed by that almost gentle tone.

Fingers touched her hair, a soft caress that threaded downwards to brush loose strands back from her face. Her eyes moved to glance sideways, wanting to see who it was but not ready to make a move yet. That voice niggled at her. She knew it, but she was struggling to put a face to it.

He moved closer, a spicy scent mixed with a scent that was very male filled her nose, and she felt the warmth from his body close at her back. Hot breath bloomed under her ear and then he inhaled slowly through his nose, taking in her scent like a predatory beast. The close proximity, the warmth, the allure of that scent and that voice, it all combined to leave her confused. She still hadn't moved.

"Still so beautiful," he said softly. "Beautiful and deadly."

She gasped, shock making her stiffen as a pale hand plucked her wand right out of her fingers. Since when had she ever been so slack?

He chuckled, low and deep, as her wand disappeared out of sight. This time, she turned, her eyes lifting, having to look up into a face that made her gape. She stared at his pale skin that seemed to gleam in the dark, a strong brow and nose and dark eyes that burned into her own.

He was harder looking than she remembered, his face angled and full of darkness, a confidence lingered in his gaze that hadn't been there when she had known him at school.

"Prewett," she whispered.

His full lips twisted into a smirk. "So, you remember me?"

The tall, awkward Gryffindor boy who had helped her in Herbology with soft words and shy smiles was gone. This was a man. A man with the glow of the dark in his eyes. He was the last person she had expected to see here in this part of Knockturn Alley, but the voice now matched up with her memory of him.

Leander Prewett had caught her in the dark and taken her wand from her, and she had let him.

"What happened to you?" She asked, stunned.

His smirk disappeared and she uttered a small cry as slender, cold fingers circled her throat. MC moved to step back but he tugged her forward, his face so close she could see the smattering of freckles across his nose in the murky light.

"Don't underestimate me, MC," he said. His voice was low, soft, but there was an edge to it. An edge that seemed to scrape down her spine with delicate nails, and she arched her back at the sensation, her body reacting before her brain could stop it.

MC stared at him, her throat bobbing under the tight feel of his cold fingers around it. This was different, a whole new side of the boy she had known. He had been a fair duellist, he could hold his own, but he had been awkward and his mouth often opened before thinking. His posturing and bluster had not made him one to take that seriously, but this man before her now was leagues away from all of that.

Her heart began to thud a little faster as she stared into his eyes, that strange scraping shiver in her spine spread outwards and into her limbs.

She had met some nasty pieces of work over the years, had a few scraps with them, and taken more than one down when the need arose. Some of them had even lured her into their beds, the ones with irresistible smiles and dark eyes, the ones who had a particular cocky charm that reminded her of one boy in particular.

But Leander had never turned her head in that way. So why was she now quivering in his hands? He had taken her wand, he wasn't exactly choking her, but his hand could squeeze if he wanted, and she wasn't pushing him off when she should.

"Well?" He prodded. "Are you going to reveal why you're creeping around in here after hours?"

His hand at her throat subtly tightened and she gulped. His eyes blazed and she just couldn't look away. Leander Prewett was making her blood sing, her skin waking up and her pupils dilating as he held her in a choke hold in the dark. Everything about this screamed at her to kick him in the shin and tackle him to the floor. She needed to get her wand back and get the fuck out of here. Abort mission.

But she just stood there, eyes locked with him, her body responding to his darkness in ways that would have had her laughing in disbelief ten years ago. He looked too certain and assured, a knowing smirk on his lips that suggested he knew exactly what she was doing here.

"I... " She stopped, her voice cracking on that simple sound.

His head tilted and his eyebrows twitched upwards. "My, my," he said slowly. "The Hero of Hogwarts is speechless."

"Don't call me that," she said quickly.

Her hand grabbed at his forearm as he squeezed her throat even tighter, her lungs beginning to constrict with panic. "Please... Leander... "

He chuckled. "I know why you're here. He said you would come, and he was right."

"What?" She rasped. "Who?"

Her original suspicions flared once more. He wasn't alone, but the idea of Prewett working with him... No. It couldn't be.

Leander let go of her throat, moving with such speed that all she could do was keep sucking in breaths with long gasps, coughing a little at the freedom in her throat as he pinned her arms behind her back. He pressed his face close to her ear as he shoved her up against the nearest bookshelves, the wood pressing sharply against her ribs. His nose was in her hair, the sound of his steady breaths against her ear making her shiver as his body held her in place.

"What are you going to do?" She asked, her voice betraying her as it wobbled with uncertainty.

He hummed softly, a hand pressed to her waist, fingers gripping harshly and her head tilted backwards, eyes fixed wide on the dusty books in front of her face.

"I'm going to take you to him," he murmured. "I reckon he is going to be pleased to see you. We've heard about you, your little deeds and clever tricks. He said the artefact would draw you out, and he was right. You walked right through the door as if I had called your name."

She trembled. Her client had given her this address, had claimed the thief frequented this shop, and she had indeed walked right in here.

It was a trap. The bastard had tricked her again. Every time she got close, he played a new hand and left her unbalanced. When would she learn?

MC grit her teeth, angered at herself for not taking more care before entering here, and now she was without a wand and pinned against a bookcase. Leander was strong, and he was so different, unpredictable, and she had no idea what he might do next.

"What do you want?" She asked.

He chuckled again, his hand at her waist moving around to press against her stomach, holding her firmly against the lean hardness of his body. Her breathing hitched slightly and she bit softly against her own tongue. Fear mingled with the strange swirl of excited curiosity.

"You," he whispered against her ear.

Her gasp was swallowed by the swirl of black and the sharp crack of Disapparation.

....*....

Leander's grip on her was firm as they stumbled into a firelit chamber. The stone floor was gritty under her boots and the air stale as though they were underground. MC turned her head, eyes darting quickly about to take in the sloped curve of the stone ceiling and the huge fireplace. Some of the columns were cracked and crumbling, the look and feel of the place suggesting age and little use.

"Where are we?"

Leander didn't answer, he just moved her forward, her feet scraping across the stone as they approached a doorway in the far corner. There were storage crates along one wall, barrels and items draped in sheets, chests that promised more curiosities that tugged at her thoughts. She couldn't seem to help it, her heart lusted after beautiful things. She craved the rush of the discovery, of touching something that had perhaps been untouched for countless years.

Leander hauled her away from the storage and she turned her gaze on the dark maw of the archway he was pushing her towards. The entrance way appeared to shimmer, a shift in the light against the inky black behind it. A memory came to mind of enchanted archways that would shift a room, illusions that led her through ancient trials, magic that she'd had to puzzle her way through in order to prove herself worthy.

But she wasn't a clueless teenager anymore. She didn't need to prove anything to anyone. One look at that doorway made her balk, though, and a slither of fear finally slid down her back as she began to resist with her feet, pressing back against him. "Wait... Leander... "

He pushed her harder. "Move," he ordered.

MC resisted, not wanting to go through that archway, something told her that going through it would be like crossing a line she couldn't step back from. She twisted, pushing back against Leander as she found her fight.

But he was stronger, over powering her easily and backing her up against the stone wall, those cold, long fingers wrapping around her throat again. In the glow from the fire his red hair gleamed, the hard lines of his face thrown into shadows and sharp angles. He was quite the sight, formidable and unmoving, so far from her memories of him, and yet it didn't look wrong on him. In fact, it had quite the opposite effect.

"Why are you doing this?" She said, writhing against his grip.

His lips lifted into a smirk. "I like it when you fight back," he said. "You always did have fire in your belly, MC. I could see it in your eyes when we were at Hogwarts together, and you've still got it, even now."

"Let me go," she said.

"Are you going to behave?" His eyes glittered, almost as though he was daring her to say no.

"What happened to you?" She asked again.

The hand around her throat shifted, smoothing up and around, his thumb grazing gently just under her jaw. She lifted her chin slightly, the delicate caress of his fingers sliding into her hair feeling far more delicious than it should. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore it.

"Don't." The word slid from her lips in a pleading whisper.

She felt his warmth move even closer, fingers sliding back down her neck to press against the flutter of her pulse. It raced, a betraying throb against his fingers as his breath tickled near her ear. "Don't what? Touch you?"

His words caressed the shell of her ear and she shivered, hands grabbing his forearms, fingers curling into the black fabric of his robe.

"I can feel the rush of your blood," he whispered. He pressed his fingers harder against her pulse and a soft whimper left her lips. "Are you scared? Or maybe you like this?"

Her eyes opened and she met his gaze, the firelight dancing in the depths of his brown eyes, pupils wide and fixed on her.

"Do you want me to like it?" She taunted. "Or, do you want me to fight you off?"

"Plenty of time for all of that once we go through that door," he said. "You walked willingly into the shop, and now you're going to walk through there. He's waiting on the other side for us."

She paused her wriggling at those last few words. MC turned her gaze towards the endless dark through the archway, that odd shimmer catching at the corner of her eye. Her breaths quickened, anticipation thrumming through her.

He was waiting.

Surely her suspicions had led her to the right place, the game of cat and mouse they had played for years could be coming to an end...

"Who's waiting?" She asked, as if she didn't know.

Leander smiled. "Let's go and find out, shall we? I reckon you won't be disappointed."

He didn't let her go, but he didn't have to push her either as they stepped up towards the archway. As they stepped through, a chilling sensation spread over her skin as they passed through the enchantment. Her eyes blinked as the darkness shifted into the ambient glow of lit lamps. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the chamber they had left, but a warped vision of it through the shimmer of the spell.

The room they were inside now was more inviting, lit softly and with comfortable furniture and books. So many books. Shelves and tables filled with them, piles stacked around the room and even on the floor. A cheerful fire crackled in a hearth and rugs covered the floor under settees and easy chairs. There were two other doors, wooden and both closed, but no windows. As she had first suspected, it appeared that they were indeed underground, but the high ceiling arched upwards with delicate stone work and beams of solid wood.

Her eyes swept the room quickly, assessing everything with a sharp eye before her gaze settled on the man sitting in the chair nearest the fire. Her lips parted, the fight leaving her body as her gaze travelled over the long limbs, the confident way he sat and the devastating smirk that pulled at his mouth.

"Sebastian," she whispered.

It had been seven years since they had graduated Hogwarts with promises on their lips, but neither of them had kept them. He was still beautiful, even more than she remembered, his hair still ruffled and begging for her hands to run through it. His face was leaner, the angles sculpted in tempting lines that she used to smooth with her finger tips as a girl.

But that was so long ago. Since then, he had led her on a dangerous dance through Scotland and England, ducking through the shadows as they both chased after artefacts and knowledge. Sometimes she had been one step ahead, but he was cunning and quick, and she had felt the bitter taste of frustration more than once.

In one smooth motion, he stood and stalked across the space, head slightly dipped as his dark eyes roamed over her. The flutter in her pulse before was nothing compared to the way it hammered now, her knees weakening and her mouth going dry as he drew ever closer.

Stupidly, she stepped back, bumping up against Leander who chuckled right near her ear, his hands sliding down both of her arms. She would get no back up from the tall red head, she was sure.

"Hello, MC," Sebastian said, his voice deeper and richer than their school days. "I'm so glad you could finally make it."

"You did this," she said. "You set me up."

Amusement danced in those deep, brown eyes, eyebrows lifting playfully. "And you played the game so well, MC," he said. "I'm a little disappointed at your predictability. I expected more of a fight if I am being honest."

"Honest?" She huffed. "Im surprised you know the meaning of the word."

He was close enough for her to see the amber flecks in his eyes, the firelight picking out the gold in his hair. He lifted a hand, long fingers catching her chin and tilting her head to his liking.

"If memory serves me correctly, you love the game as much as I do," he taunted. "Do not preach to me about honesty, my darling. Your heart is as dark as mine, if not darker."

She glared at Sebastian, defiance making her pull her chin from his grasp. Leander's grip tightened on her arms and she felt his breath at her ear again.

"Be a good girl now, MC," he warned.

Sebastian's eyes moved to Leander. "Where's her wand?"

Leander slipped her wand from his robe and handed it over to Sebastian. MC shifted, arm snatching out to make a grab for it but Sebastian was faster. She growled in frustration, dodging to one side to wrench free from Leander's grip. She stumbled and ran, circling a table and almost skidding on a rug.

"She's not playing nice," Leander said. "She looks like she is thinking of trying to escape."

Sebastian's laugh was low and soft, his fingers slowly spinning her wand, his face lowered as he watched her through his lashes. "I do love it when they run," he said softly. "It makes the capture so much more satisfying."

MC gulped, eyes wildly searching for a route out of here, Sebastian's soft laugh sending shivers over her skin. There were two wooden doors that were closed and the enchanted archway she had passed through. With no idea what lay behind those doors and her wand in their possession she had limited options.

Had they done this before? Lured women down here and tortured them? Had they become that dark and twisted? Her heart was thudding as she eyed them both.

"Give me my wand," she demanded.

Sebastian slowly shook his head, his fingers smoothing over the wood of her wand, his gaze thoughtful before he aimed it at her.

"What the fuck is this?" She asked, backing up, her legs hitting against a high backed chair.

Sebastian's eyes glittered with something, a shifting shadow in their depths that pulled at something deep within her. She stared at him, unable to tear her gaze away as he stalked slowly towards her. She skirted round the chair, still backing up, not taking her eyes off him for a moment while he had her own wand aimed at her.

In doing so, she had missed Leander circling around the other way, and when his hands grabbed at her from behind, she squealed. Bucking against him, she twisted and fought, but he was stronger, his arms wrapping around her until she was pinned, her chest heaving against his iron grip. His lean hardness was pressed against her back, his own quickened breaths in her ear.

"Naughty girl," he rasped. She tried to squirm and he chuckled. "I think we might have to chain our little plaything up, Sebastian. She isn't playing the game."

Sebastian stalked closer, his eyes dark, his teeth rolling his lower lip. MC struggled, trying not to look at him and failing.

"There's my fiery girl," he said softly. "Don't worry, Lee. She will play, we just get to have a little fun breaking her in first."

"Fuck you," she spat.

The tip of her own wand settled against her skin, trailing softly over the back of her hand and dipping down to her wrist. Her heart pounded and she couldn't tear her eyes from Sebastian as Leander held her steady.

"Incarcerous."

A silvery wisp slithered from the end of her wand, parting into two and solidifying into a rope that twisted sensually around her wrists, sliding effortlessly against her skin. The ends broke free from the end of her wand and were deftly caught by Sebastian before he pocketed it. His smile was of smug delight.

"Now I have you," he said. Leander loosened his grip on her as Sebastian gave the ropes a tug. She had no choice but to stumble forward. "No more hiding, MC. I've finally caught you."

Her heart raced, she was trapped, at his mercy. She should be kicking and screaming, but she wasn't. Just like before, when Leander had her pinned against the bookcase, it was a twisted curiosity that thrummed through her rushing blood.

"What are you going to do?"

Sebastian's eyes shifted to Leander as he moved to join him, they shared a dark look before they both turned their gazes back to her.

"Now the fun really starts," Leander said.

Sebastian's smile sent a tingle down her spine.

....*....

The silvery bindings around MC's wrists were cool and strangely soft, and when she pulled against them they didn't hurt her, but they were strong and held her in place. The coolness was welcome against her flushed skin, her body trembling with conflicting waves of uncertainty and unbidden desire.

Her arms were lifted, the bindings holding them up where Sebastian had attached them to a wooden beam. Her feet were on the ground but she couldn't move far. She was effectively a prisoner, hanging there, her eyes following the two men as they circled her slowly like two predators, their eyes hungry for the kill.

"She looks good, doesnt she?" Leander said, pausing in front of her, his gaze moving slowly down her body.

Sebastian moved to stand beside him. "A prize indeed," he agreed.

"Is this what you lured me here for? To tie me up and stare at me?" She asked. "What's next? Torture? Pain? You want me to suffer?"

Sebastian's eyes were dark. "Oh, there will definitely be torture, and maybe you will suffer a little, but the pain will be sweet. I promise."

MC felt her lungs constrict, breath stuttering as she pulled on her bindings. She shook her head. "Fuck you," she bit out.

Sebastian chuckled. "Patience, my darling."

Leander was becoming fidgety, his fingers flexing and his movements antsy as he eyed her. "When can we start playing?"

Sebastian reached up to brush his knuckles down his cheek. "All in good time, my love," he purred.

Leander leaned in to the gentle touch, a soft sigh leaving his lips. MC stared, transfixed, a flutter of fire stroking outwards between her thighs. She clenched them together, her mind trying to deny what her body was seeking.

"Are you... you two are together?" She asked.

Leander narrowed his eyes. "Is that a problem?"

Her eyes widened as Leander took hold of Sebastian's chin and kissed him full on the mouth, Sebastian responding with a low moan. She gaped, not expecting that at all. Neither did she expect it to make heat flare deep within her, her arms pulling on the ropes as their kiss deepened. MC had to look away, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to think of anything else that wouldn't fire her up like this. She couldn't give in. She wouldn't play their game.

"Is someone jealous?" Sebastian teased. MC flinched as his fingers trailed from her jaw to her neck, the touch light but confident. She swallowed, her throat visibly working as she shifted away. A crease appeared in his brow, and he took hold of her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. "Play nice, MC."

"Do you think she would like a taste before the real games begin?" Leander whispered.

Her eyes flew to him. "What?"

Sebastian nudged Leander towards her. "Try her," he said softly.

MC trembled as Leander advanced, her feet sliding backwards, the ropes pulling tight until she could go no further. His eyes blazed, tongue sliding over his kiss swollen lower lip as he gripped the front of her robe and dragged her forwards.

"Leander...no... "

Her whimper made his lips twitch and he dipped to nuzzle at her neck, her head twisting as her whispered pleas spilled from her lips, denying what her traitorous skin responded to. She felt the brush of his nose, his hands gripped her waist and then lips tasted her skin. He wasn't gentle, his kisses exploring her until he was at her ear, a wave of goose bumps spreading over her skin despite her efforts to twist free.

Leander sighed, breath hot, and then he claimed her harder, his mouth sucking at her neck, tongue flicking in tempting strokes. It sent rivers of fire through her, a soft sound leaving her mouth that made his hands slide greedily around her, holding her closer as the suck turned to pain. It was a sweet awakening that made her lips part with a cry.

This shouldn't feel this good, but Leander's mouth spread fire on her flesh, the sting of his bite sure to leave marks on her skin. With Sebastian watching on, the erotic situation she found herself in was heightened. She was no prude, she had seen plenty in the underbelly of the Wizarding World, even Muggles had their dark side. But this situation was a new one for her, and while a slow fear curled in her gut, there was also curiosity and desire, a deep throb that made her thighs clench with a shameful need.

Fingers took hold of her chin again and Sebastian studied her face with approval.

"I think she likes it," he said, pleased. His eyes were dark with arousal and she was losing herself, her arms slackening in their bindings.

Leander dragged his mouth up to her jaw. "She is so lovely," he murmured. His hands slid down over her hips, moulding her with firm fingers. "So soft."

MC stared into Sebastian's eyes and he smirked, slow and devastating. His fingers brushed her hair back from her face, gentle as he slid them into her locks before he gripped tightly, making her wince. With a sharp tug, he pulled her head back, her throat fully exposed now. At the first hungry claim of his mouth on her skin she groaned. Both of them, one each side, devouring her.

Her eyes stared up at the dark, high ceiling, her mind shattered in shock, her blood aflame with a need so sharp and sweet it made her bones melt. Leander's firm grip on her hips held her steady as her legs trembled and her wrists went slack on their bindings.

"Such a good girl," Sebastian crooned.

A low hum of agreement came from Leander as his hands cupped her behind, fingers digging into her soft flesh through her clothes. "I want more."

Sebastian moved back, his hand on Leander's shoulder. "I think it's time to play a game," he said.

Leander reluctantly lifted his mouth from her, eyes eager. "I do like to play."

"What... what kind of game?" MC asked.

Sebastian smiled and stroked her cheek. "Listen to her, Lee. She is so hungry for more."

Leander moved slowly to her right, Sebastian hovered on her left, his wand spinning distractedly. "I thought you liked playing games, MC. You've been trying to hunt me down for months, have you not?"

"And now I have finally found you,' she said, lifting her chin with defiance.

Both of them chuckled and exchanged a look. "You're only here because we let you find us, sweetheart," Sebastian said. "We thought you might want to come and play with us."

MC felt her pulse quicken at his words but her eyes were watching the pair of them carefully. They looked too poised and ready to pounce again, her neck still damp from their kisses was like a taster, a mere glimpse into what they might do.

"Why in Merlin's name would you think that?" She asked.

"Oh, come now, MC," Sebastian said. "Look how prettily you moaned for us just now. Don't tell me you wouldn't like more."

Leander smirked and stepped closer, his eyes fixed on her, the gleam in them difficult to look away from.

"Well, you thought wrong," she said, however the tell tale breathlessness in her voice didn't hold much conviction.

Sebastian tilted his head, his hand slipping into his pocket to pull out the artefact. The little sphere shimmered in the glow from the lamps, the colours of it bleeding into each other just as the client had described.

"Not even for this?" He taunted. He rolled the sphere in his fingers. "I bet you would love to get your hands on this."

Incredibly rare and desperately sought after, the Seeing Sphere was a prize indeed. A sacrificed drop of blood would be absorbed into that shimmering surface and images would appear in its depths, prophetic images. MC stared at it, fingers twitching with the urge to caress that alluring surface that slid effortlessly through Sebastian's fingers.

She had never seen it before, only heard the whispered rumours, so when it was stolen she had lusted after the chance to hunt it down. But, of course, Sebastian had to get his hands on it first.

"You would never give up such a thing," she scoffed.

He grinned. "Play the game and find out."

Her eyes moved from him to Leander and back again. Were they being serious? "Will you give me my wand?"

"Absolutely not," Sebastian said immediately.

She scowled. "You could at least release the ropes, my arms ache."

"You need to be a good girl for us first," Leander said.

MC could see how they were both carefully moving around her, one on each side like predators stalking prey. Her feet shifted on the stone floor, needing to keep moving as though she could actually escape. She glanced up at where the ropes were fastened around the wooden beam. They were fixed tight, the beam solid and thick. She had no chance of pulling that free. She sighed and hung her head.

"What do you want?" She asked.

Sebastian gave a deft flick of his wand and the button at the top of her blouse slid free. MC gasped and looked down as the button below popped open next.

"Stop it," she hissed.

A third revealed the lacy edge of her chemise. She glared at Sebastian and he chuckled.

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," he taunted.

MC felt her cheeks grow hot, her gaze flicking to Leander as he took another step forward.

"I haven't seen it before," he said. "Time to play nice and share, MC."

He stepped forward, a pocket knife in his hand. She eyed it warily.

"What are you doing?" Her voice wobbled as she spoke, his other hand holding her still as he held up the knife. She gasped, a hiss of surprise as she felt a pin prick on her finger tip, the blood welling up into a droplet.

"What are you doing?" She asked, eyes wide with horror.

Sebastian moved closer, holding up the Seeing Sphere and Leander held her hand tightly, guiding her bloody finger to it's shimmering surface.

"We want to see what happens when you touch it," Sebastian said, his voice heavy with intrigue. He gave her a dark smirk. "Just think about what you want, your deepest, dirtiest desires."

MC tried to pull back, but Leander yanked her arm forward with ease, her finger sliding over the surface of the cold sphere, her blood smearing in a streak that shimmered before it melted away. MC felt the thud of her heart as all three of them stared at the ball waiting to see what it would reveal. She may have been tied up against her will, but the draw of the artefact had her intrigued, she wanted to see how it worked, seduced by its magic and potential.

Inside the sphere an image began to form. MC was in a clearing, her hands raised as she channelled ancient magic, the sky a roiling mass above her head as blue bolts of lightening struck the earth near her feet, dark shadows shifted around her, faceless figures that seemed to evaporate and reform in ghostly mirages. MC shivered, not understanding what the image meant and as she looked at Sebastian, ice slid down her spine at the hunger she saw there. The glow from the sphere seemed to reflect in his eyes, the flicker and shift of her power a desire all of its own.

She had suspected that his interest in her when they were young was fuelled by the power she could weild, it was one of the reasons she had drifted from him in the first place, and it seemed not much had changed. Is this what he wanted from her? To use her power for his own ends?

Inside the sphere the image began to shift, and MC realised she was now naked, her body twisting as if floating through water, her hair fanned out around her head. She watched, transfixed, as Leander and Sebastian appeared with her, their bodies also exposed, and then they were entwined in lewd positions, the expression on their faces revealing the pleasure shared.

MC felt her cheeks grow hot, the memory of their kisses on her neck adding to the tingle of desire that crept over her after watching the images unfold inside the sphere. Both Leander and Sebastian were watching, their lips parted and eyes blazing as they looked at each other and smiled.

"Well, well," Sebastian said, turning to MC. "What a filthy mind you have, sweetheart."

She shook her head, trying to deny it, but her mind filled with erotic thoughts regarding the both of them.

"This is a trick," she said. "This isn't me. What kind of dark magic is this?"

The image in the Seeing Sphere faded and Sebastian slipped it back into his pocket. He turned those hungry eyes on her, licking his lips.

"Time to satisfy those dark desires," he said.

MC shook her head, pulling on her ropes and leaning back. "No," she said. "I'm not going to let you use me."

"And how are you going to stop us?" He asked, his head tilting curiously.

Leander moved around behind her and she twisted, trying to keep them both in her line of sight. He slid a hand down her back and she scooted forward, her body colliding with a waiting Sebastian, who took hold of her robe with a gleam in his eyes.

"Let's get you out of these clothes, shall we?"

They worked as a pair, unbuttoning and tugging until she was in naught but her socks, her cheeks and chest flushing red at the way they were looking at her. They circled her again, finger tips grazing against her waist, her hips, her arse. She trembled, twisting and pulling on her ropes as her skin betrayed her, prickling into goosebumps and tingling with each teasing caress.

She shook her head, denial spilling from her lips in muttered protests, but they kept touching. Gentle teases of finger tips sliding over her hips and along her thighs as she twisted and pulled on her ropes. They removed their own robes and shirts, bare chested now, the both of them sculpted with firm muscle, limbs lean and strong.

"Let's see if she can tell us apart," Sebastian said. Leander moved towards him, his hand sliding up over Sebastian's chest. MC watched through lowered lids, intrigued despite herself as Leander caught Sebastian's lower lip between his teeth. The sight was erotic, elements of the forbidden, and she fought against the way it made her thighs tremble, heat coiling tight and hot. They kissed and Sebastian whispered something against his mouth, words that she couldn't quite catch. Leander smiled and nodded before turning his dark gaze on her.

He had a piece of fabric in his hand as he approached her and she tried to pull back as he wrapped it about her head, a blindfold, her eyes hidden behind the black fabric. He slid his thumb down her cheek, toying with her lower lip, and all she could do was tremble.

"No! Why do I need this?" She asked, shaking her head, but the fabric didn't shift.

"Its all part of the fun," Leander whispered.

Now all she could see was darkness, she could only rely on her other senses, her ears straining as she heard Leander step back. She shivered, her skin prickled, the ever present tug of heat settled firmly between her thighs. She turned her head from side to side, anticipation making her lips part and her arms pull on the ropes.

Footsteps, slow and deliberate, circled around her and she shifted, trying to follow them and then whimpered as fingers trailed up the back of her thigh. The touch felt like a trail of fire, the fingertips grazing her skin more titillating because she had no idea which one of them it was.

"Stop," she pleaded, but the word was broken, pathetic. The tightening of her core making a liar of her.

More fingers tickled softly just under her breast and she flinched, the touch illicitng a small cry from her lips as the hand cupped her breast, the thumb sliding over the peak and then, the hand was gone. Her eyes moved from side to side behind the blindfold, her chest rapidly working as she panted softly. Her breasts felt heavy, aching, the peak taut after the fleeting touch.

A low chuckle sounded to her left and she turned, just as a hand caressed her arse. "Sebastian," she gasped, her hips lifting into the touch.

A low hum sounded at her back, a brush of lips on her shoulder blade. "Good girl," he murmured.

MC clenched her thighs as his hands moulded her arse and swept to hold her hips, guiding her against him, she felt the fabric of his trousers as he began to grind against her. Her back arched, arms straining on the ropes as she shamelessly pushed against him, the heat in her core throbbing.

"Look at her, she loves it," Leander said, somewhere in front of her.

Sebastian chuckled and then let go, stepping away from her and she whined, stumbling a little. Her cheeks coloured, shamed at how much she wanted more. She heard them both circling again, her ears trying to follow as she heard the rustle of clothing, the not knowing driving her to an edge.

"What are you doing?" She licked her lips, her voice far too needy for her liking.

Silence. She stilled, ears pricked, holding her breath as she waited, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting as one of them blew gently against her back. Goosebumps spread up her arms and her pulse was skittering wildly, gasping for air into taut lungs.

She jumped as hands slid up her thighs from the front, all the way up until thumbs grazed at the junction of her legs, the hands swooping around underneath and parting her legs. She looked down, but of course, could see nothing. The touch was super sensitive, every nerve ending on full alert, so when the swirl of a hot tongue licked against her inner thigh, dangerously close to her heat she moaned loudly.

Neither of them spoke, she could only imagine which one was there before her. Were they looking at each other, using silent gestures to communicate while she hung on her ropes, blind, desperate and shamefully aroused?

The tongue moved higher, erotic, hot, mouth sucking at her sensitive flesh and the muscle beneath quivered, the heat at her core intensifying as she felt a head brush against the hair there.

"Fuck," she whined. "Who is that?"

No answer. The mouth stopped, lifting from her skin and she bit her lip at the urge to beg for more.

A sharp slap connected against her arse, not too hard, but enough to make her jump, the sound of it splitting through the silence followed by her cry of surprise. Her hair was grasped and her head was tugged back, hot breath fanned against her neck and teeth nipped at her earlobe.

"Naughty girl. Don't ask. You have to guess." The voice was a rasp, but she knew who it was, melting as Sebastian nibbled along her neck.

"I'm sorry," she said, immediately biting against her tongue for letting the words slip free of her mouth. She was pitifully at their mercy, desperate and needy.

Sebastian's hands glided up her waist and over her ribs, cupping her breasts and teasing the peaks, drawing soft moans from her as he devoured her neck. Meanwhile, Leander’s hands smoothed up her thighs and around her hips, his mouth pressing hot kisses across her stomach. So many hands and distracting mouths, it pulled her deeper into the haze of lust that pooled thick and hot.

She had long since abandoned the idea of running, her body soaking up everything they were offering, her mouth no longer pleading and denying, but whimpering and gasping as fingers moved ever closer towards her core, but never actually touching it.

"Please," she whispered.

Leander pressed his face against her, just below her navel, his hands cupping her arse, and he moaned at her little plea. "Such a good girl, begging for it," he said.

He kissed her flesh, slow, teasing, moving lower and to the side and down over her thigh. She parted them for him, so eager, so ready for more. His mouth moved to her inner thigh, his tongue a delicious promise as he licked and teased. Her hips flexed, her pussy hot and wet, aching for him to taste her, but he stopped, and she felt him withdraw.

She whined, desperate and frustrated, and he dared to laugh, a soft snigger at her discomfort as she heard him move away. Not only that, Sebastian removed his touch too, stepping away and then they were circling again. Hands slid across her stomach, her back, fingers swirling under her breasts and over her hips.

MC pulled on her ropes, her shoulders now aching from being held up for this long, her head lolling slightly. Sebastian had promised her torture, and she had envisioned dark curses and pain, but not this. This sweet torture of hating them, but wanting them, her body aching to be taken in the most filthy of ways.

She would take them both if she had to, at the same time. She realised she needed it, craved it like the opium whores in the dens of London.

A firm grip on her hips made her lift her head, anticipation making her draw a deep breath as those hands slid upwards to her arms, kneading the strained muscle there. Soft kisses trailed across her collar bone, the spicy scent of cologne and male skin teased her nose, the same scent she had picked up in the shop. Teeth grazed her throat and she tipped her head back.

"Leander," she sighed.

She felt his smile against her throat, his hands swiftly grazing down to her arse, pulling her close against him. Her breasts grazed bare chest, and she arched, his naked arousal rubbing against her hip. She moaned, writhing against it. If he was naked he was planning on putting that impressive thickness to good use.

"You want me to fuck you," he murmured into her ear. He shifted, guiding his hard cock between her thighs, the silken length brushing up against her folds. He rubbed it back and forth, groaning into her ear. "Mmm, I can feel how wet you are."

"Yes, gods yes." She panted, hips seeking out more friction as a warm body pressed against her back.

"I'm going to need a feel of this," Sebastian said into her other ear.

MC gasped as she felt Sebastian's cock slide against her arse, the tip slippery with pre-cum as he slid it along the curve of her cheeks and between her thighs to join Leander's. She yanked on the ropes viciously at Leander's low moan, both of them rubbing against her folds and each other. What she would give to be able to see!

Their cocks thrust between her thighs, rubbing her in teasing strokes that were nowhere near enough, her slick dripping out to coat them both.

Sebastian was panting in her ear, driving her crazy with want as Leander held her hips, grinding her against their cocks. Their moans sent her spinning, their lust for each other making her twitch and burn with heightened arousal. She was enclosed within their combined heat, sweat beginning to prickle at the back of her neck, dampening her hair and making her squirm.

"Let me see," she begged. "Fuck, let me see."

"No," Sebastian said. His hand slid between her thighs, and she felt the deft stroke of fingers against her folds, she threw her head back with a groan and then she shuddered as he pushed two fingers deep inside her. "Fucking hell, she is soaked, Lee."

Leander pulled back. MC whimpered and tugged on her ropes, realising she wanted to drag him back, hips rolling as Sebastian began to thrust his fingers in and out of her twitching opening. But her whimpering turned to moans as she felt Leander's sinful mouth on her thigh again.

Sebastian continued to fuck with his fingers, pulling out her leg as Leander spread her open, his tongue finally licking a leisurely stripe across her opening, lapping around Sebastian's fingers as he worked her so well.

"Listen to you," Sebastian taunted into her ear. "So desperate, so needy. Such a good girl for us."

When Leander found her clit, sucking and swirling over it with devastating rhythm, she felt the tightening almost immediately. Her walls fluttered and clenched around Sebastian's fingers and her thighs began to tremble.

"She is close," Sebastian said. "Too close."

Immediately, they both pulled back, cutting her off and leaving her literally hanging. A cry of disbelief was all she could manage, her whole body quivering on the precipice of release with no way of getting them back.

"Bastards," she choked.

She throbbed, legs shaking as she swayed on the ropes, wincing at her desperation. She could hear their smug laughter and grit her teeth, frustration clawing at her. "Oh, man up and just fuck me already," she spat.

They went quiet. Not a sound except for her own quick breaths and the roar of her pulse in her ears. She shifted, pulling on the ropes, that prickling sensation teasing up her back again as she tried to place where they were in the blackness of her vision.

"Someone is getting impatient, aren't they?"

Her head twisted sharply to the left. Leander. A finger teased at her sternum, trailing slowly downwards through the valley of her breasts, and then disappeared. Soft footfalls and then a palm glided over her hip. She whimpered, and he chuckled, a dark sound that sent a shiver over her.

"Maybe we should let her have a taste."

Behind her. Sebastian. Her eyes darted uselessly behind the fabric, her whole body tense as she waited, but nothing happened. A taste of what?

The pressure in her shoulders suddenly released, the taut ropes slacking off and she staggered, strong arms circling from behind stopping her from collapsing to the floor. She gasped, surprised, groaning at the resistance in her tired arms as they fell to her sides.

They had released her, although the cool bonds were still attached to her wrists, she was still roped. Sebastian nuzzled into her hair.

"This is far from over sweet girl." His hand wrapped about her throat, fingers on her jaw tilting her head back as his other hand cupped a breast, rolling the peak gently. "Who do you want first? Me or Leander?"

MC swallowed hard, shifting against his grip but he only held her tighter, her sweat slick back pressed against his firm chest.

His mouth pressed against the skin under her ear, hot, teasing. "Come on, don't be shy. You're the one who wants us to take you."

His hand slid downwards, teasing strokes that drifted lazily over her aching core, making her twitch, poking at the unsatisfied tightness that needed release.

"Is it me you want? You want me, right here..." He pushed a finger into her, slow, deliberate, and she arched with a gasp.

"Or, maybe she wants me," Leander said, his voice surprisingly close. Her head twisted under Sebastian's grip, desperate sounds spilling from her as hands took hold of her hips, tilting her upwards. "I could fill you up, MC. I want to watch you take all of me."

"I want to watch, too," she begged. She lifted an arm, aiming for the blindfold, but her wrist was caught and pulled backwards. She grumbled at the block, wriggling against Sebastian's hold but failing.

"No peeking, darling," Sebastian crooned. "We get to watch. You get to feel."

Her legs were parted, both of them supporting her weight as she felt the tip of Leander’s cock brush up against her, rubbing slowly over Sebastian's fingers. MC thought she might actually lose her mind, her hands reaching out to grab firm muscle, smoothing up Leander’s chest as Sebastian guided him inwards. His tip breached her folds, nudging in and she gasped, hips rocking forwards as he slid even further in.

"Oh... gods, that's big," she stuttered, her walls stretching to take him, fluttering at the satisfying fullness as he pushed deeper.

"He feels good doesn't he?" Sebastian whispered knowingly. "You just wait. He fucks so well."

The images Sebastian's words conjured seared through her mind, Sebastian on his knees while Leander took him. MC shuddered, thighs clenching, her fingers digging sharply into Leander's chest.

"Do it," she begged through clenched teeth. "Show me."

Leander worked his hips, grinding against her, his cock so deep it nudged harshly against her limit. She winced, but pushed back against him, desperate for friction.

"She is so tight," Leander said, humming in approval. He guided her hips, fingers tightening as he pulled back to thrust. MC moaned at the delicious drag and thrust, and he did it again. Leander growled. "Fuck..."

Sebastian adjusted his grip on MC, she could feel the tautness in his arms, the heat and rapid lift of his chest. "Give it to her, don't worry, I've got her," he said.

Anticipation exploded into hot shock as Leander snapped his hips, thrusting hard and firm. MC grunted, her hands scrambling for purchase, her body slammed back into Sebastian as Leander filled her, over and over. Each punishing pounding filling her up, his thickness sliding effortlessly against her hot spot, and that throbbing ache twisted dangerously.

"Don't let her come," Sebastian warned, his voice betraying the effort it took to brace up against Leander’s brutal force.

MC bit down, clenching her teeth against the sounds that wanted to burst from her mouth, she could barely keep her scrambled thoughts together, but didn't want to reveal how desperately close she was to spinning over the edge.

Sebastian was right, Leander knew how to fuck. The angle, the pace, his sheer size and strength. She ached to be able to see it, longed for it, her hands exploring the sweat slicked skin of his shoulders and chest. She tried to imagine the flush on his pale skin, the intensity of his dark eyes and her core trembled.

A hand splayed over her abdomen, pressing downwards, she guessed Sebastian's. He moaned near her ear. "Gods, I can feel you inside of her," he said.

His mouth claimed her neck in a stinging suck, and she brought a hand to his hair, curling her fingers into his rumpled locks and gripping.

The wave of her release rose up, muscles contracting and she couldn't stop the moan, long and desperate. Gods, she needed this, craved it. She held her breath, teetering, ready to let go and drown.

Sebastian ripped his mouth from her neck. "No!" He commanded. "Not yet!"

He yanked MC backwards, Leander’s fingers scraping painfully over her hips as he slid free from her. Her own hands tried to grab at him with a cry of frustration, her orgasm cut off for a second time, legs useless and trembling beneath her.

"No, please," she said, her voice cracking. Stunned, she felt tears sting her eyes under the blindfold. So close! "Sebastian...please!"

Just like when they were clueless kids at school, Sebastian was selfish and controlling. The twisted games that had driven them apart back then came back to her, filled her with frustrated fury that she had found herself back in his grip, her body caving under his silken tongue and dangerous eyes.

She planted her feet and twisted from his grip, shoving back and stumbling forward, slipping in her socks. She reached up and tore the blindfold from her head, blinking against the sudden rush of light and colour. She rasped breaths in and out, her gaze focusing on a very naked Leander.

Her eyes washed over him, his freckled skin as flushed and sweaty as she had imagined. His cock was rigid and glistening, pink and swollen from being buried deep inside her. She tore her eyes from him, core contracting at the memory of it.

Dazzled by the sight of Leander, she had hesitated too long. Sebastian was on her, pinning her arms behind her back easily, the muscles on her shoulders screaming in protest.

"Bad girl," he growled. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye and trailing down her cheek. The deep sound of his voice was like finger nails down her back, shiver inducing and opening her up to his darkness. It shouldn't feel so good to hear him call her that. But it did. It pulled at something deep within her. So, when he shoved her down, she went willingly, her eyes opening to fix on Leander's darkly smug face.

"On your knees," Sebastian ordered. He gripped her hair with one hand, her wrists with the other.

Leander stepped closer, his hand pumping himself, cum beading at his tip. MC leant back, eyeing him, but Sebastian pushed her head forward. He was on his knees behind her, and she felt the ropes at her wrists tighten, binding them together at her back.

"Bad girls dont get what they want, MC," he warned. "You're going to open that pretty little mouth and take him like a filthy whore."

As if in protest, she clamped her lips tightly together, fighting against his hand at the back of her head. Why did he always have to get his own way? His hand slid around her throat again and she swallowed against the pressure, turning her head, but he gripped her jaw and forced her back, his thumb probing her lips apart.

"Play nice, MC," he urged. "Be a good girl, and you will be rewarded."

Leander caressed her face, brushing back her hair, and teased his weeping cock against her closed mouth. MC couldn't tear her eyes from his, the dark glitter of his gaze taunting her. The sweet boy she had known was nowhere to be seen as he pushed his swollen cock against her mouth.

Sebastian's thumb found his way into the corner of her mouth, her lips finally slackening as she bent to his will. He slid his thumb in further and she couldn't resist sinking her teeth into it. He hissed sharply, his fingers gripping so tightly on her hair she winced.

"Bitch," he rasped, pulling his thumb free. "She bit me."

MC laughed, the sound bubbling up and out through her lips, but it was cut off as Sebastian squeezed her throat. She fought against her ropes, gulping as he yanked her head back, her eyes lifting to see the flare of annoyance in his dark eyes.

"This could get a whole lot worse for you unless you play nice," he warned. "You will get no rest, no respite, until we are satisifed. You wont be leaving here until you are dripping from the both of us. However long it takes to fill you up, and we've got all night sweetheart."

She heaved in her breaths, tied, trapped, and throbbing. Her eyes moved between the two of them, both of them unflinching and solid, a wall of male desire. Their earlier passion for each other came to mind.

"What about you two? What if I said I wanted to see you dripping from each other?"

Leander smirked. "Like that idea do you? Maybe we could oblige you, but not if you misbehave, MC."

She writhed against Sebastian's hold on her, choking slightly against his hand. "I thought you liked me being a naughty girl," she taunted, her words tight around the chokehold. "Good girls don't want to be fucked hard by bad boys. I don't want to be a good girl, I've never been a good girl and have no intention of being one right now."

Sebastian tightened his grip, grinding against her bare arse, his cock hot and twitching. She pushed back against him, her eyes on Leander and smirked in satisfaction as Sebastian moaned.

Leander narrowed his eyes. "Open your dirty mouth so I can fuck it," he said, aiming himself towards her again.

MC held eye contact. "Untie me first," she countered.

"And why would we do that?" Sebastian asked. His thumb caressed her jaw, a gentle touch contrasting with his firm, choking grip.

MC rubbed herself against him again, soft cheeks against hot arousal. When she spoke, the harder tone in her voice slipped and a subtle edge of need shone through. "I want to touch you."

A flicker of something flashed across Leander's gaze, the hard glitter softening for an instant before disappearing behind hardness again. MC felt her core flutter, curious to know what the tall red head was hiding behind his stern face.

"Please," she whispered. "Let me touch you."

Leander's eyes shifted towards Sebastian over her shoulder and he gave a subtle nod.

"Don't make me regret this," Sebastian said with a sigh. "One stupid move, and I will rope your arms and your legs, do you understand me?"

"I understand," she agreed.

He released her throat and she coughed, staying still as Sebastian used his wand to loosen the binds at her wrist. The cool charm vanished and she flexed her hands, bringing her arms around to her front, brushing hair back from her face as she readied herself.

She looked up at Leander with a nod of thanks before she dropped her gaze to that mouth watering arousal. She swallowed thickly and then opened her mouth. This time, Sebastian's hand was gentle as he cupped her jaw, his mouth at her ear so that she got the full benefit of his groan as Leander pushed his cock past her lips.

....*....

Years, months, so much time spent chasing down dark artefacts and even darker wizards. MC had dabbled in many things, but never had she allowed two men to take her at the same time.

It hadn't been something she had considered, not coming across the opportunity, or meeting two men that could tempt her into such an act.

Curiosity had always landed her in trouble. She often found herself in dangerous situations and thrived on getting herself out of tricky binds. Her curiosity and pride had led her here into this underground chamber that was clearly the living space of her two old school friends.

Her greed for getting her hands on the Seeing Sphere, for being the one to catch the elusive thief, had her on her knees, naked, with her mouth wrapped around Leander's cock.

He was a big boy, and he knew how to use it, but she took him. Her hands gripped at his strong thighs, the permission to finally touch and move fueling this savage lust that consumed her. She sucked at him greedily, soaking up the deep moans of pleasure she stole from his mouth.

All the while, Sebastian was at her back, his mouth marking her flesh and his hands teasing her just enough to stroke the fire in her belly, but holding back with devastating skill so that she didn't find that elusive peak.

As a girl, she had craved Sebastian's touch, her heart had yearned for him until she thought she might cry. Over the years, that become a rivalry, and she thought those soft feelings had festered into something bitter and twisted.

One touch, one kiss, one glance at his dangerous little smirk and she was yearning for his touch all over again. As his mouth spread hot kisses across her shoulders and down her spine she tilted her hips, offering herself up shamelessly to his hand, parting her thighs so he could seek out her core and drive all rational thought into oblivion.

Leander's hands were in her hair, holding her steady as he fucked her mouth, her eyes streamed from the size and power of him. But she wasn't a quitter, and she dug her nails into his thighs and urged him to release.

She didn't even stop when Sebastian hauled her hips higher and positioned himself, pushing his own throbbing arousal against her slick folds. She moaned around Leander, eyes rolling as Sebastian slid deep, thrusting into her with approving groans and sighs.

Caught between the both of them, MC was coiled tight, the ache for release twisting with savage need. Being cut off from pleasure twice, she feared it happening a third time, but her body was relentless in its chase for it. Her hips rocked to meet Sebastian's urgency, her mouth worked to give Leander what he wanted.

She was being such a good girl for them and she craved her reward.

Leander gripped her hair tightly with a deep groan, and MC braced herself as his cock began to twitch and throb.

"Fuck... MC," he gasped, as spurts of hot release filled her mouth.

She almost gagged, swallowing in gulps, eyes streaming, her hand softly cupping his balls as they emptied. She leaned forward to press her forehead against his stomach to catch her breath. Sebastian had stilled for a moment, she could only imagine that they were looking at each other, whatever bond they shared glowing in their eyes.

For her, it was pondering this sudden intimacy with a man she didn't know, the flesh of his stomach hot against her face, soft red hair tickling against her nose. His musky scent surrounded her, and she smoothed a hand up and over his hip, a curious heat tingling through her. Without thinking too much, she pressed a kiss just below his navel. In response, his long fingers carded through her hair, gently cupping her head against him.

"Shall we move this somewhere more comfortable?" He suggested.

MC turned to look over her shoulder, Sebastian was flushed, eyes dark and skin glistening as he held her hips. He was still buried deep within her, and as their eyes met, she gently rolled her pelvis, savouring the thick fullness of him. His eyes glittered, his lips twisting into a smirk. He gave her arse a squeeze and nodded.

"I reckon our knees would thank us for getting off this hard floor," he said.

It was Leander who helped her to her feet, and when she swayed, legs trembling, he easily swept her up into his arms. Carrying her bridal style, he walked towards one of the wooden doors set into the stone walls of the cavernous room. MC put her arms around his neck and leant her head against him, a moment of respite.

This was a far cry from the dusty, dark shop where he had caught her and pushed her into the bookcase. The flicker of curious attraction that he had brought into life there had now grown into something else, intimacy shared, and behind the hardness his face portrayed, she suspected that the boy she remembered was still in there somewhere.

It was that part of him that held her like this, that carried her to the large four poster bed and placed her carefully on the neatly made sheets. She looked up at him, meeting those dark eyes and smiled. He didn't smile back, but she was sure that something softened behind his eyes.

The room was not as spacious as the main living space, but it was still quite big. The furniture was dark wood and old, drapes hung at the corners of the bed, and rugs softened the space here too.

Sebastian lit a lamp with the flick of his wand, crossing the room with a confident stride despite his naked form. He approached the bed, eyes roaming over her as he licked his lips. MC clenched her thighs together, her arms aching from being tied, her core burning with pent up frustration at their prolonged stimulation.

Sebastian Sallow had been a torment for years and this was unlikely to end any time soon. When their gazes met, memories and tension combined to pull on the strange bond they shared. They had killed for each other, they had whispered dark secrets and walked dangerous paths hand in hand. They had argued and stung each other with harsh words.

He had hurt her, and no doubt she had hurt him too, not that he would ever admit it.

As he approached the end of the bed and climbed on to it, those dark eyes never leaving hers, the deepest parts of her reached for him. Despite everything, her body had a will of its own and answered to the darkness he conjured.

He gripped her ankles, pulling her down the bed and spreading her open, lust flaring in his gaze. She gripped at the sheets, twisting them up in her fingers as heat flared thick and hot at her core.

Please, no more torment, no more urging her to heights and then leaving her suspended and aching. Her eyes begged him for it, her lips uttering whimpers as he pressed his mouth to the inside of her ankle in a soft kiss.

"Please," she whispered.

The artefact could wait, as could the coin she would earn for retrieving it. They were problems for later. For now, she needed her reward from these two, the artefact had shown her their bodies entwined, and so it had come to pass. She was ready to see it through.

Sebastian moved closer, settling between her thighs, his eyes alight with hunger. His hand smoothed up her skin, cupping a breast, hips grinding lazily. MC's hips lifted to meet him, the teasing press of his arousal not enough, she wanted more.

"You've been a good girl," he said softly. Leander hummed in agreement, his fingers gently tracing along her thigh as he shifted, moving himself behind Sebastian. "Do you deserve a reward?"

MC nodded, her hands taking hold of Sebastian's forearms, his flesh warm and taut. "I'm ready," she said.

Sebastian's smirk was smug as he bent his head, his tongue flicking across her skin towards a breast, teasing at the peak before drawing it into his mouth. MC moaned, her hands sliding up to his head and the soft brunette locks that tumbled in irresistible waves.

As his mouth moved downwards, soft kisses and teasing strokes of tongue sending swirls of heat straight to her core, Leander was touching Sebastian, his hands roaming over his back and hips. MC tried to shift to see better, distracted as Sebastian moved ever closer to her core.

At Sebastian's first exploratory lick, MC groaned, eyes closing as he began to swirl and suck over her clit, her body responding immediately. Tight heat coiled delicately making her hips flex and her thighs part even wider. With one hand in Sebastian's hair the other reached up to grip the bedsheets behind her head as she began to feel the rise.

She gave herself over to it, surrendered to the skill of Sebastian's mouth, her eyes lidded as she watched Leander adjust Sebastian's hips and begin to pleasure him. Sebastian's mouth faltered, a low moan vibrated against her heat and she felt her stomach clench.

Fascinated, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, watching as Leander worked Sebastian from behind, pumping his length with one hand and working him open with the other. She stared at Leander, the flush on his cheeks and the hunger in his eyes. When his gaze lifted to her, he smirked and gave her a cheeky wink. Her core fluttered, heat rolling outwards, and a moan slipped past her lips.

Sebastian's moans and his careful ministrations combined with the erotic scene before her eyes. MC fell back against the mattress, her hips lifting upwards as the first wave of heat crashed over her. The clench was exquisite, tightening her muscles and curling her toes, her head tilting back as she cried out in pleasure and relief.

There was to be no let up, as she gasped and clutched at bed sheets, Sebastian continued, sliding fingers inside and curling them just enough to ride out the pleasure, ripples of aftershocks making her legs shake uncontrollably.

"Seb," she gasped, her hand splaying over the top of his head and trying to push him off. "Merlin, please..."

He devoured her, his tongue working harder, his hands clamping down her bucking pelvis and she arched, shuddering and whimpering as a second orgasm rushed over her. Her eyes blinked against a hazy blur, cheeks and neck flooding with heat as she was consumed by it.

When Sebastian finally lifted his head, she was gasping for air, spread out on the bed, boneless. He shifted, moving up the bed, his cock swollen and dripping as he positioned himself. She barely moved, watching him through dazed eyes as he slid into her fluttering cunt.

"I'm not through with you yet," he said, taking hold of her chin. "I'm going to fill you up now, darling."

She groaned, his wet mouth claiming hers in a messy kiss, her own taste coating her tongue and lips. He began to move, thrusting into her at a steady pace, the tilt and slide of him reigniting the flutters deep in her core.

Her head rolled, still dazed, and then she felt him shift, his thighs widening and pushing against hers. He slowed and stilled, buried deep and then he shuddered. She could feel his cock twitching and looked up to see Leander. He was buried deep inside Sebastian, rocking his hips and pushing Sebastian even deeper into MC.

She gaped, bracing her hands against Sebastian's chest as they found a rhythm together, Sebastian a moaning, whimpering mess between them.

To see him reduced to such a state surprised her, but it was stimulating, erotic. She lifted a leg, her foot teasing along Leander's arm as he gripped Sebastian's hip, thrusting into his arse with powerful thrusts.

Leander's eyes were dark, lost in his lust, but he found her gaze and grasped her calf, sliding his hand up her leg in a caress that made her shiver. As a trio, they moved, Sebastian chasing his release within her, Leander pushing for it within Sebastian.

MC was aroused by them both, her hand snaking down to caress Sebastian by the balls, her finger tips stretching out to graze against Leander with each thrust.

They both moaned, Sebastian tensing up and pressing his head to her chest.

"Give it to me," she panted. "I want to feel you do it."

Sebastian's groan was almost desperate, his hand squeezing her breast as his eyes closed tightly. MC looked up, her gaze meeting with Leander's, his eyes intense as he stared at her. She felt the clenching deep within, another orgasm reaching a crest as Sebastian gave in. MC cried out, clenching around his cock as it throbbed and let go, her eyes locked on Leander who remained relentless.

Sebastian clung to her, their bodies slick with sweat as Leander chased his own release. MC continued to watch him, the strange intimacy making her heart thud harder, and when he finally came, his hand slid up Sebastian's back and found hers. She took it, linking their fingers, all three of them joined in the final moment.

....*....

With no windows to give a clue about the world outside, MC had no idea how long she had been down here with Sebastian and Leander. The three of them had dozed on the bed, her in the middle, and she had woken to the warmth of their sleeping bodies each side of her.

Sebastian lay on his stomach, his face towards her, his cheeks pink and his lips slightly parted. Asleep, he looked more like the boy she had known, soft and adorable. She watched him for a while, wondering if things could have been different if all the terrible things hadn't happened. She dared to trace a finger from his temple to his jaw, a soft touch to remember the good things, because there had been some.

He didn't wake, and she left him be, carefully shifting around to look at Leander.

The red head was asleep on his side, dark copper lashes fanned out across the hard plane of his cheekbones. His lips were so deliciously full and pink, she knew how soft they felt against her skin, and it fascinated her. Out of this whole experience, he was the one that intrigued her the most. How did he end up in the bed of his rival? How did a boy once so awkward and soft become hard and dark?

Unable to resist it, she shuffled closer, her gaze roaming over his freckled shoulders and firm, lean muscle of his arms. The dusting of red hair on his chest and stomach begged for her fingers and she carefully placed her palm against his chest. He was warm, solid, and she closed her eyes as she slid her hand upwards, leaning in to press a kiss near his collar bone.

He tensed, his arm moving, and her eyes flew open as he grasped her wrist, stilling her hand. Slowly, she tilted her head back to look at him. His eyes were more hazel brown, not like Sebastian's chocolate eyes, and she was so close she could see tiny flecks in the low firelight. He was watching her through sleepy lids, blinking curiously as his thumb caressed her wrist.

"What are you doing?" He whispered.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, full, inviting, and she realised she wanted to feel those lips against hers. She licked her lips and met his eyes again.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, her fingertips flexed against him. "You looked so peaceful."

He studied her carefully, not letting go of her wrist. "I'm surprised you didn't try to sneak away while we slept."

Her lips parted and she stilled. The realisation dawning on her that she hadn't even considered it. "Me too," she whispered.

"Why stay?"

She leaned even closer towards him, her lips lifting slightly. "Well, you have my wand for a start," she said. Her smile widened. "And I'm not sure if I can walk yet after what you two did to me. My arms are killing me."

He grinned, bringing her hand closer to his mouth. His fingers slid from her wrist to caress her fingers. She let her fingers entwine with his, noticing a curious marking on the inside of his wrist. It looked like the shape of an 'S'.

"Did we hurt you?" He asked softly.

She shook her head. "Surprisingly, no."

She watched as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, warmth tingling up her arm. She brushed her fingers against those lips, watching as she did so, her eyes darkening with hunger.

How easy it was to replace her fingers with her mouth, claiming his lips in a kiss that went against everything that occurred before. Her kiss was soft, gentle, exploring the feel of him as her body pressed even closer. He didn't respond at first, either surprised or maybe uncertain. But then he kissed her back, deeply, his hand grasping her hip to pull her close as his arousal twitched and grew, pressing her down into the bed.

"You'd better not be having fun without me."

They paused in their kiss, breaking apart to both turn their gazes to Sebastian. He was awake and leaning on his elbows, his sleepy eyes dark as he watched them.

MC smiled and reached for him. "Snooze you lose, Sallow," she said. "Get over here."

....*....

One Month Later.

A low mist clung to the banks of the river, the mud was slippery and thick under her boots and MC was crouched low near the bushes as she glanced back behind her. The bridge to cross the rushing waters was just ahead and she swiped damp hair from her cheek, her hood useless against the moisture in the air.

She had managed to sneak out of the Ashwinder camp, her pocket laden with pilfered tomes and whatever gold she had managed to snatch for her efforts. As she crept through the darkness, the moon a pale half crescent in a sky littered with heavy clouds, she kept herself calm, collected. Under the cover of some nearby trees, she paused, leaning back against scratchy bark as she contemplated her next move.

Her contact, a bad tempered Auror by the name of Ralph, had told her of this camp and the highly sought after books they had in their possession. The Ministry were keen to get their hands on these tomes, the pages thick with dark magic and information on some of the most prominent Wizarding families in their world. A quick glance in one had revealed the Gaunt name, her memories awakening of the blind, blonde boy that had been a part of her life at school.

She patted her robe, her transfigured pocket containing a wealth of valuable information, powerful and dark magic, tools for persuasion and damage control.

She licked her lips, savouring the haul, her skills once again putting her in these positions. These books would earn satisfactory reward in both pride and gold. All she had to do was deliver them to the cranky, old Auror and take her prize in return.

But, she hesitated. She closed her eyes, her body shivering with goosebumps and heat coiling thick and fast in her abdomen, skin tingling as she thought of soft lips, dark eyes and the delicious pull of ropes on her wrists.

It had been a month since Sebastian and Leander had ensared her, four weeks since they had teased and tortured her and then claimed her for their own. She had left their lair with her wand, but no artefact, but her body had been well satiated, and her mind ensared with the possibilities.

The Seeing Sphere had shown her using her power, dark shadows at her beck and call. Sebastian's desire for knowledge and power had drawn Leander into his arms, the pair of them outwitting some of the most powerful witches and wizards of their time. With her on their side, the possibilities were endless.

The Auror, or her lovers.

MC closed her eyes and Disapparated.

....*....

The underground chamber looked the same as it did when Leander when had brought her here a month ago. She still had no idea where it was, merely closing her eyes and using her memory of it in the hopes of landing here, but here she was.

She took a few steps, her gaze falling on the shifting magic of the doorway portal. She wondered if either or both of them were present. As she stepped up to the shimmering charm on the archway, she hoped she was making the right choice.

She stepped through the magical barrier, the room softly lit and warm, the fire burning in the great fireplace. Sebastian was in the chair by the fire reading, his head lifting as she appeared. His smile was one of slow satisfaction.

"You came back, darling," he said.

She moved into the room, circling a settee and standing on a large rug before him. "You don't sound surprised to see me," she said.

He stood, closing his book and placing it on top of a pile beside his chair. He stepped up to her, reaching up to pull back the hood of her robe, a slight crease on his brow.

"You're all wet," he said. "You must be chilled. Let's see to that and then we can talk."

She did shiver as the hood slid free of her hair, his fingers glancing across her cheek as he moved to pour her a whiskey. She glanced around the room as she removed her robe, both wooden doors were closed, the chamber quiet. No sign of the tall red head.

"If you're looking for Leander, he isn't here," Sebastian said. "He went out a while ago and won't be back till later."

MC took the offered whiskey glass and sipped, meeting dark eyes and feeling her cheeks flush. He had guessed what she had been thinking.

"You are quite taken by Prewett, aren't you?" He teased. He took a large mouthful of whiskey, eyes calculating as he studied her. "Is that why you returned? Because of him?"

Her stomach twisted as butterflies erupted, the heat of her core lazily turning over as she thought about it. Partly, yes, Leander had turned her head, but also, Sebastian's own darkness had called to her. Just like it had years ago.

"I've brought you a gift," she said. She swirled her whiskey in her glass, watching him through her lashes. "But I think Leander should be here before I say more."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with interest and he slipped his wand from his pocket, a smirk twisting his lips. "Is that so?"

He charmed a little bird, whispering to it before sending it upwards. It flapped its wings before vanishing in a sprinkle of sparks.

"Then please, take a seat," he said, gesturing towards the settee. "Leander will be along shortly."

....*....

The books were spread out over the table top, Sebastian leaning over an open one, his eyes devouring the page. Her gifts had gone down as well as she had expected, a kiss from each of them. There had been more whiskey to toast her success in retrieving them, and now she felt suitably warm and flushed.

Leander came up behind her, his arm snaking about her waist and he pressed a kiss to her neck. She closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his closeness. Sebastian looked up and smiled.

"Shall we make it official?" He asked, slipping his wand out again.

Leander nodded and took hold of MC's wrist, sliding up her sleeve to expose the pale, tender flesh of her pulse point.

"What's this?" She asked, tensing up a little.

Sebastian moved around the table, twirling his wand, eyes dark and possessive. Leander held her against him, his grip on her wrist firm.

"Time to make you ours," Leander said softly into her ear. He pressed a kiss to it, lips soft and teasing.

Sebastian pressed the tip of his wand to her pulse point, eyes meeting hers. "Are you sure this is what you want? This will bind you to us, forever."

Her heart pounded, thoughts racing, and then she felt the warm press of Leander's hand on her stomach, Sebastian's gaze full of fire and promise. She nodded.

"This is what I want."

Sebastian uttered the spell, his voice soft and dripping with shadow and the brand scalded her skin. A cry left her lips and she flinched, a fire spreading from the brand through her blood, encasing her heart and making her head throb. Her vision swam, and she was vaguely aware of Sebastian's touch to her cheek, her legs giving way but Leander's strong arms holding her up.

And then all was black.

....*....

The pillow was soft as she stirred, blinking against the low light of a lamp. She could feel a presence, a life force that thrummed in her blood, she frowned, confused, as it seemed to shift, splitting off into two separate forces. One was close, the other was nearby, but not too far.

She turned and stilled. Leander was sitting on the bed beside her, he reached and brushed hair from her face.

"You're awake at last. How do you feel?"

She took a breath, slowly sitting up, the life force closest to her seeming to throb and grow warmer as she met his gaze. She put a hand to her chest trying to make sense of it.

Leander smiled and took her hand, pressing it against his chest where his own heart would be. She gasped, the life force heightened into a sweet pulse. Her eyes widened.

"I can feel you!"

"It's strange to start with, but you get used to it," he said. "You must be able to feel Sebastian too. He is in the other room, but he could be anywhere, and you will still feel it. We are connected to each other through our life force. Only death can break it."

MC smoothed her hand against his chest, swallowing hard. "Joined. Forever."

Leander nodded. "Sebastian saw it inside the Seeing Sphere. He made me confess," he said, blushing. He dipped his gaze. "I... I was in love with you at school. And after seeing the vision, and getting the truth out of me, we set the trap to lure you to us."

"This was your aim all along?" She asked, shocked. Her pulse tripped madly, thoughts scattered as she stared at him. He had loved her? Her own cheeks grew warm.

"That it was," Sebastian said from the doorway. He moved to join them at the bed. He put a hand on Leander's shoulder and caressed her cheek.

"The spell joins the life forces of those in love. We both loved you already. We just had to see if you would return it," he said. "The Seeing Sphere foretold that you would, but I couldn't be sure, and when I awoke to see you kissing Leander with such softness, I knew it as truth. We just had to wait for you to return."

Tears stung her eyes. She loved them both? She didn't love anyone. Her heart had always been closed off to such softness, such vulnerability. And yet, she could feel them both. Two extra pulses of life alongside her own, every heartbeat linking them in ways that no other could ever come close to. She looked down at her wrist, the burn mark there in the shape of an 'S', a raw version of the healed mark on Leander's wrist that she had noticed in bed that night. She traced it with her finger. She would never be alone again.

Leander's hand slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head, the touch gentle. Sebastian had hold of her chin, his thumb teasing at her skin, his eyes magnetic. She looked at them both, glad she had walked through that archway, taken the chance and brought the books here instead of to the Auror.

"Ours," Sebastian whispered. "Forever."

"Forever," Leander smiled.

Lured Part 2 - Before

#dark!sebastian sallow #dark!leander prewett #blueraineshadows #Sebastian Sallow #Leander prewett #hogwarts legacy fanfic

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