#in the warlord's own bed

[catscraftsandcommentary]

Had a thought. (I've had a vicious and persistent sore throat/ear infection, so it grew out of that.) Witchers would be GREAT to cuddle when you're sick - they're warm, they don't catch or spread illnesses, they like spending time with friends/friendly humans, they respect boundaries (ie yes to cuddling, no to groping).

Basically, five bucks says any random human at Kaer Morhen could walk into the great hall or onto the training grounds, say "I feel like crap and I want a hug," and IMMEDIATELY have a dozen offers.

Now, if for whatever reason JASKIER got sick or injured and wanted comfort cuddles but Geralt and Eskel were called away for Warlord/Right Hand business, you KNOW that he'd whine at them that "noooo, you can't take my cuddle wolf, not when I'm SICK, at least find me another one while you're gone!"

So they call Aubry. (It's fine. It's far from the first time Aubry's cuddled Jaskier; the man is as good as his little brother.) Sasha and Milena come by with their lovers, and somehow Jaskier ends up wedged between Aubry, Aiden, and Lambert, with Sasha sketching birds for him and Milena reading to them.

The next day it's an entirely different cast of Witchers, with a few humans snuggled in.

Ciri and Zia poke their heads in one day to see Jaskier drooling on Gweld while Serrit sharpens all her many, many knives at the foot of the bed.

"Is he trying to sleep with everyone in the keep?"

Serrit snorts.

Ciri laughs. "No, he just likes cuddling them, I think. He only fucks Da and Uncle Eskel."

[innerfare]

Nightmares - Part 2

Summary: What sorts of nightmares do they have about losing you?

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon, Smoker

Genre: Angst

CW: SFW // that being said, caution- contains mentions of death and suffering

——— 

Shanks: 

It’s all fun and games as he chases you down the beach under the full moon, both of you splashing in the shallows, the mugginess of the summer night somehow refreshing after a few too many drinks. He doesn’t run very fast at first, giving you the head start he always does, the one you complain about, but when he does decide he wants you in his arms, he picks up his pace, only to realize you’re much further down the beach than you should be. He runs faster and faster, and with each step, you seem to get three more away from him, until the outline of you is rapidly disappearing. His throat begins closing up as he realizes he’ll never catch you. And when he wakes on deck, a half-empty booze bottle in his hands, he sets it aside and searches the ship for you, not catching his breath until he finds you sleeping in his bed, right where you belong. 

Beckman: 

You’re in the clutches of the marines. Beckman had a past before Shanks, a past that involved deserting the marines and going on the run from the World Government, and there’s a small part of him that never did overcome the fear of that past catching up to him. Worse still, he has a fear of that past catching up to you, and that fear comes to life in his dreams, when you’re thrown into Impel Down for his crimes and he’s forced to watch them dunk you in boiling water over and over again. He wakes with you asleep on his chest, the same as every night, and the skin to skin contact calms him down, but not enough for him to go back to sleep. 

Mihawk: 

He sent you away for your own good. He had a premonition the Navy would be coming for him, and with them, a slew of bounty hunters that would have no qualms about using you against him. And yet, you remained in his dreams, though the hot and heavy ones he once had were replaced by cold fear. Every time he went to sleep, a different scenario, though the crux of it the same: you were being used as a pawn to get to him, a pawn in a lot of pain. And every time he woke up, the same: your side of the bed was empty, the shape of your body tangled in those satin sheets now but a memory. For your own good, he kept reminding himself, though he believed it less every time.  

Crocodile: 

You betray him. Of course you do. He would betray you in an instant, and not even for a whole lot. A business deal, or perhaps the freedom of one of his more valuable people. From the look on your face, it’s not difficult for you, either. In fact, you seem to relish the pain on his as you inform him you’ve taken a deal with one of his enemies- a lucrative one, at that. And all you had to do was set him up. He wakes with a start, sitting up on the sofa in his office he often crashes on when he doesn’t feel like dragging himself to bed. You’re nowhere to be seen, and that’s what he needs for the next few days. He only stops giving you the cold shoulder when he figures out a way to approach the topic of betrayal without telling you how pathetically heartbroken he would be if you ever did turn on him. 

Doflamingo: 

The angry mob gets you. That same mob that went after his family, that same mob that went after him. They’re after you, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s not a warlord, not even a pirate, hasn’t eaten his devil fruit or met Trebol, hasn’t done anything to make himself powerful enough to protect you. You’re supposed to be his, but the mob is determined you’re theirs, and what is he supposed to do about it? He wakes in a cold sweat, leaning forward in his chair with his chest heaving. He takes a moment to massage his temples before climbing to his feet and stalking out of the room in search of you, determined to lay eyes on you (and probably to increase your security detail, too). 

Corazon: 

His brother has you tied up like a piñata for the executives to beat. Everyone in the family is there, even Law, and Corazon cries out, but he really is mute, completely unable to protest your treatment. He can’t move, either, can’t do anything but watch as everyone takes hits at you, from his brother to his son. He wakes in a fit of desperation, calling out for you. It’s the sound of his own voice- hoarse and frantic- that finally calms him down, though ultimately, he doesn’t take another calm breath until you appear at his side, your brow furrowed, asking him what’s wrong. He knows it’s crazy, but he just has to check you over for marks. 

Smoker: 

He comes home after months at the sea and finds your home wicked, windows shattered and furniture overturned. He approaches the bedroom with a lump in his throat. Just as he rounds the corner, he wakes up, but laying there in bed, he knows what he saw, knows what a crew of vengeful pirates did to his beloved. Though he had been firm on not telling anyone about you or your relationship for fear the wrong person would find out and your life would be in danger, he makes the decision to put in a call to an old friend and ask them to drop in on you every week or so to be certain you’re safe. He also installs a new, state of the art security system at your place as soon as he gets leave. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[luffington]

hihi, how are u⁉️ may i request jealous crocodile and/or doflamingo smut? i am OBSESSED w ur fur & feathers story, you’re an amazing writer!! thank you sm 🙏🫶💓‼️

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.6k

➤ warnings: dom!crocodile, possessive behavior, spanking, degradation, praise, belly bulge, overstimulation, mentioned breeding kink, established relationship, fem reader

aww i'm glad you like it! i decided to give crocodile some love since i already have a few fics about doffy :3 i had really bad horny brainrot writing this he drives me insane

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Deciding not to join Baroque Works was your own choice, but you shouldn’t be suffering for it.

The crime syndicate’s leader and you had been in a relationship for quite a while. You’d long since accepted his dedication to his job and his workaholic tendencies – a serious job required someone just as serious. But recently, it had gotten to be too much. 

He spent sixteen hours a day holed up in his office, pouring over documents and answering calls and meeting with Miss All Sunday. Grunted quiet greetings when he came home at night, climbing into bed beside you then falling asleep immediately. He’d barely said three words to you all week. 

You were jealous of the fucking Transponder Snail for how much attention it got. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

So you put on your sluttiest dress, a nice pair of heels, and flashy diamond earrings, then wandered around the massive Rain Dinners casino looking for easy prey. You settled on a drunk average-looking man with a winning streak at roulette. He openly ogled your body as you approached, and smirked lecherously when you asked if the empty seat on his left was taken. 

The man clearly wasn’t a local. He didn’t recognize you, even though you weren’t shy about hanging onto Crocodile’s arm in public. And he was much too stupid to notice the casino staff’s constant nervous glances. While laughing and holding your drink, you brushed a flirty hand over his shoulder and pressed your body against him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Crocodile emerge from the staff-only hallway to survey the room. Everything about him commanded attention – his abnormal height, his expensive clothes, his intimidating presence. In a flash, he materialized behind you. Half of his body was still reforming from a whirling sandstorm. Menacing golden eyes shone down at you, but his expression was eerily blank. 

The entire casino fell silent. Everyone’s focus was on you.

Crocodile exhaled a pungent cloud of cigar smoke. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Bullshit. He’d hardly looked at you at all for nearly two weeks. Ignoring the shivers running down your spine, you decided to continue taunting him.

“I’m watching my good friend here play roulette! He’s very lucky, he might take all your money home with him.” You didn’t even remember the man’s name, but you lied with a cheeky grin and firmly patted his thigh twice.

Much too friendly for Crocodile’s liking.

Your lover’s eyes narrowed in on the empty martini glass in front of you. “How many of those have you had?”

“I dunno, three? Four?” You turned to the stranger with a saccharine smile. “Were you keeping count?”

The man was frozen in place, terrified into silence at the sight of the eight foot tall Warlord towering above him. His all-consuming fear made him seem like a small animal staring into a Bananawani’s open jaws.

“You’re drunk. You should sit down.” Crocodile’s tone was steady but dangerous. Always aware of his public image, his carefully chosen words made him seem like the perfect gentleman. 

“But I am sit–“ 

A murderous glare cut you off mid-sentence. You realized you’d taken your bratty act as far as it could go – any more might be threatening to your well-being. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rose from your seat and automatically moved to his side. Tucked yourself into the folds of his coat, choosing to look down at your heels rather than his face.

“Make yourself comfortable in my office, darling.” The Warlord patted your shoulder, causing you to flinch. His voice dropped an octave as he growled, “I’d like to speak to this lucky gentleman in private.” 

Crocodile’s pristine office was unnervingly quiet. You took a seat on the plush couch facing his desk, nervously bouncing your legs and trying to calm your racing heartbeat. With the lights off, the room was only illuminated by the water surrounding it. Dark shadows of swimming Bananawani regularly moved across the walls. Silly little prey, willingly walking into their nest.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind you. Heavy footsteps slowly approached but you didn’t dare turn around. Rich cologne flooded your nostrils and his golden hook flashed in your peripheral vision. 

Your lover stayed quiet, patiently biding his time until the silence finally got to you. Timidly, you asked, “What happened to that man?”

“What man?” Your lover cocked his head to the side, feigning ignorance. After a moment, a sadistic chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, you mean the mummy in the back room. Let’s say he mysteriously disappeared.”

You whipped your head around with wide eyes. “You killed him for me?” 

Oddly, you didn’t feel bad about it – that man was a creep. Getting rid of him was probably a blessing for the women of Alabasta.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you, dear.” He sounded sincere, but then leaned down and fiercely whispered, “Except play this stupid game of yours. I like showing you off, not sharing you.”

Soft breath tickled your cheek and the fur lining of his coat brushed against your skin. You felt a fire ignite in your core – he was irresistibly sexy when he became possessive (well, more possessive than usual). 

“Have I done something to upset you?” Crocodile kissed and licked down the column of your neck. “Or were you taunting me for fun?”

“Y-You’ve been so busy lately, I was–” The word ‘lonely’ died on your lips when he sunk his teeth into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Oh, my poor dear. Are you feeling neglected?” He cooed when you shyly nodded, pressing a chaste kiss to the bite mark. “I’m very sorry. Work’s been out of control recently, but everything will settle down soon. You have my attention now.”

The tip of his hook slid under your dress’s thin shoulder strap, then cleanly tore through it. He repeated the action on the other side until the torn fabric slipped down to reveal your bare breasts. 

“Not even wearing a bra?” Your lover clicked his tongue, roughly cupping and caressing your right boob then smacking the soft flesh. “If that man looked down your dress, then his death sentence was too lenient. I should’ve tortured him.”

“You’re so scary,” you giggled, letting your head fall back against his sturdy chest with a content sigh. Grainy fingers traced your areola then rubbed over your hardened nipples. Thankfully, you knew you’d never experience the true extent of his wrath – he adored you.

Without warning, he wrapped his cold hook around your throat. The proximity of its sharp edge to such a dangerous area made your hair stand on end. 

“Bend over my desk,” he commanded, gently nipping your ear. “Darling.”

You stumbled over to the enormous desk, legs shaking from anticipation and arousal. Bracing your arms on the polished wood, you arched your back and presented your ass to him. The Warlord took a moment to admire the view, amused by your visible impatience.

“I bought you these,” Crocodile drawled, tracing the waistband of your silky panties with the curved back of his hook. You never saw their price tag, but they felt expensive. He poked your earlobe. “I bought you those earrings, too. They cost more berry than that pathetic man could ever make. Everything about you belongs to me – seems like I have to remind you.”

A large hand came down on your ass hard, jiggling the soft flesh and making you cry out in delight. The collection of rings on his fingers added a delicious extra sting. Three more spanks followed rapidly in the same spot, then four on the other cheek until every part of your ass ached.

Crocodile snickered when you rubbed your thighs together like an animal in heat. A wet spot had already dampened your panties. “Silly little slut. If you wanted to be spanked, you should’ve just asked. No need for all the theatrics.”

“Didn’t have a chance to since you were talking to that Snail all fucking day.” Your petulant mumble quickly turned into a yelp when his hand brutally struck the crease of your thighs. Making sure you’d feel the sting every time you sat down. He grabbed the roots of your hair and yanked your head back. 

“Watch your tone,” Crocodile growled. The Warlord released you, catching you before your limp body hit the desk and easily flipped you onto your back. A wicked smirk almost as wide as his scar spread across his face. He hungrily observed your body like a predator about to pounce. 

He pulled down your panties with an unnerving carefulness – he didn’t want to damage his property, after all. Then he roughly spanked your bare pussy. Your surprised cry of pain echoed throughout the empty room. Satisfied with your reaction, he did it again and again until your folds turned puffy. 

Crocodile spread your cunt using the back of his hook so he could land a direct hit on your sensitive clit. The impact on your bundle of nerves sent electric shocks throughout your body, your back arching painfully off the table. Your lover chuckled and swiped two fingers through your drenched folds. 

“Who else can make you this wet?” Crocodile webbed your juices between his fingers before bringing them to your lips. Obediently opening your mouth, you suckled and swirled your tongue around them. Paying extra attention to his rings, making sure the precious jewels shined with your spit. Though it was a rhetorical question, he pulled his fingers out to hear your response. 

“No one.” You answered honestly, your eyes dilated with lust and chest heaving. “Just you.”

“You’re damn right.” Crocodile unlatched his belt, letting his trousers hit the floor with a metallic clang. His enormous dick smacked against his pelvis, rock hard and leaking pearly precum. You unconsciously licked your lips at the sight. “Can’t let another cock can satisfy you, either. I need to ruin you for anyone else.”

Demanding you to look directly at him, he lined up his tip with your hole and thrust his hips forward. Slowly at first – his massive cock often met resistance in your tiny cunt – but after the first few inches, he slammed the entire length inside. Knocking all the air out of your lungs, your head lolling back on the desk. Crocodile stayed like that, appreciating the pretty bulge in your belly. 

“Crocodile, please…” 

“My name sounds perfect on your lips.” That predatory gaze was back, the need to possess you overwhelming his thoughts. Your lover pulled back until only the tip remained in your dripping pussy, then harshly rammed his dick in all the way. 

Quickly setting a rough pace, Crocodile palmed at your tits with rough hands then leaned into the crook of your neck, whispering a dizzying mix of praise and degrading phrases. All of your coherent thoughts vanished from your brain. 

You clutched onto his coat to ground yourself, to not get lost in the sea of pleasure washing over you. His cock was too fucking big. Too fucking good. It bullied its way inside your wet walls, permanently reshaping them to the perfect fit as he called you his pretty little cocksleeve.

Over a week’s worth of pent-up sexual urges were quickly coming to a head. Crocodile knew your body so well that he immediately recognized the signs of your impending orgasm. He reached his hand between your bodies to rub circles on your clit, pinching and pulling the sensitive nub for good measure.

“H-Holy fuck, ahhh, shit, I’m gonna…” 

The Warlord smirked cruelly and paused his movements with his cock halfway inside you. “Apologize for being a brat. For even looking at that worthless man.”

If you had a stronger resolve, you could’ve kept this game going even longer. Asked him to apologize for ignoring you. Maybe even gotten a few more spanks out of it. But you needed to cum, and you desperately needed his giant cock to move. 

“I’m sorry,” you panted desperately. “I won’t be bratty anymore, I promise. You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’ll do anything, just – please, please, let me cum.”

“Very good girl.” Crocodile rewarded you by sensually rolling his hips to stir your insides around. Snickering, he admitted, “Although, I do enjoy when you act up every once in a while. You’re especially sexy when you submit to me.”

Your lover resumed fucking you hard enough to make the desk creak. Legs shaking with every thrust, your eyes were unfocused and the only thought in your head was how full you felt. Looking down, you dreamily watched the bump in your stomach move up and down as his dick rearranged your guts.

“Scream my name loud enough for the entire casino to hear when you cum. Let them know who owns you.”

Just one scream wasn’t enough for you – you chanted his name like a prayer as your orgasm hit you in full force. Juices gushed around Crocodile’s cock and dripped down his balls. He lazily fondled your clit to help you through it, only pulling away once the aftershocks had subsided. You lay limply on the desk, face flushed and chest heaving. 

Belatedly, you realized that Crocodile hadn’t budged. A concerning sign.

“You… you didn’t cum?”

“This soon? Of course not. I didn’t commit murder for one measly orgasm,” he chuckled. “Evidently, I have a lot of lost time to make up for. Your cunt better be prepared.”

“W-wait, give me a minute –”

“No, dear, you were right. I spent too much time ignoring you. You deserve all my love.” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that knocked his mushroom tip against your cervix. “And affection.” Another thrust. “And every inch of my cock.”

Filthy squelching sounds and your lover’s balls slapping against your ass accompanied your overwhelmed scream. Tears pricked at your eyes as he increased his pace, your brain becoming as mushy as your cunt. 

“Such a perfect pussy. Only a real man like me can treat it properly.” Crocodile murmured smugly. Leaning down to press his body flush against yours, his muscular pecs squished against your tits. His normally slicked-back hair was coming undone, strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. Dizzying pleasure washed over you when his fingers found your clit again.

Crocodile felt his balls tighten, but held himself back from the edge by slowing down to a relaxed grind, focusing all of his attention on you. You fucking lost your mind when he spelled each letter of his name on your sensitive bundle of nerves. A second orgasm washed over you in a bright light, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you murmured absolute nonsense mixed with cries of his name. 

Your cunt clamping down on his cock like a vice sent him over the edge. At the very last second, Crocodile pulled out to spurt thick stripes of cum across your stomach. With a deep, satisfied groan, he jerked himself to completion until your skin was painted white. Fully marking you as his own. 

Satisfaction and exhaustion made your eyes flutter shut, but Crocodile ensured you stayed awake by giving you a surprisingly tender forehead kiss. Cradling your cheek, he asked, “Feel better?”

“My ass hurts, but yes. I feel great.” You nodded with a fucked-out grin, chasing his lips for a real kiss which he eagerly granted.

“Good. As pretty as you look covered in my cum, the next load is going inside you. I need to fuck a baby into my beautiful girl.”

His next load? Your eyes widened when he began stroking his cock again, still soft but beginning to twitch with interest. Turning your head, you met the downward-turned eyestalks of his shut-off Transponder Snail. 

[she-walks-on-starlight]

Negotiations

a/n: This is Day 2! So sorry it's late, I was hospitalised over the weekend which put me behind! I'm working hard to catch up hehe

Pairing: Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Write a scene without any dialogue

Warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, public sex, alcohol drinking, slight dom-sub vibes, mentions of violence, mention of blood

Summary: Ambessa hates negotiating, no matter how important it is for her rule. Perhaps she will make herself some entertainment to find it more enjoyable...

Word Count: 1.1k

18+ | MEN AND MINORS DNI | 18+

You know Ambessa finds these meetings the most tedious part of ruling over Noxus. She finds little meaning or use in negotiations, far more used to greeting political rivals and ambitious warlords with her sword at their throat than breaking bread with them. It is a preposterous notion to her, attempting to appease her perceived enemies. As she presides over the emissaries and nobles at the head of the table, you know she is listening keenly, identifying weakness, and sniffing out any hidden agendas. Noxian custom is steeped in violence, and there was a time that Ambessa would be demanding fealty or these peoples’ heads.

But things are different for her now. Now, her daughter Mel has agreed to remain in contact with her and visit Noxus more often with her consort, Jayce. Ambessa can breathe easier knowing that rebuilding the bridge between herself, and her daughter will secure her legacy and ensure that a Medarda inherits the throne upon Ambessa’s death.

She has you now. Seated to her right, close by so she can always see you. Her consort, the love she never thought she’d find again. You’ve dressed yourself in a scarlet red ensemble tonight, complete with a gold medallion belt accentuating your hips. Red and gold, her favourite colours. The colours of war and victory. Conquest. You’ve already caught her more than once tonight, her eyes raking down your figure, her eyes hungry and her tongue darting out to wet her lips. When your eyes meet, she flashes you a fanged smile, no doubt envisioning the many ways she will take you when this insufferable night is over.

You’re drawn to one of the visiting emissaries booming laughter as he gulps down wine and flirts boisterously with the serving girls as they refill his plate and his cup. You try to suppress your smile as you take in Ambessa’s disgust, knowing she’d want nothing more than to pick up the lout like a ragdoll and smash him into the ornate mahogany dining table, likely shattering it in the process.

The image sends an unexpected but not entirely unwelcome rush of heat between your legs. You squeeze your thighs as you imagine her leering down at the man, twitching as blood leaks from his head and then turns to you with her signature smirk. The very same smirk that ushered you into her bed three years ago, at another function where Ambessa was more interested in the wine selection than the purpose of the gathering. The scandal had rocked the court of Noxus, their esteemed leader engaging in an ill-advised relationship with a younger woman, and the daughter of an insignificant noble. She had silenced their doubts in her usual way, with threats of broken bones and removed tongues.

At first, you were convinced that she wanted only for your body, the way she tasted and marked your flesh during your visits bruising you with carnal possession. She was a tornado of fire, and you were blessed to be at the heart of the inferno. Countless nights you found yourself in awe of her, in awe of your luck. Nights spent with shaking legs, dripping with sweat and your own release as she made you scream her name for her over and over again. She was never satisfied with hearing your desperate pleas and devoted prayers to her only once. You never feared her, and knew she would never hurt you, not unless you asked her to.

But she soon proved to you that she wanted more, much more, than what your body could give her. She wanted you by her side always, listening to her stories of long-forgotten battles on distant shores, showing off your new dresses, massaging away her troubles in the bathhouse. She had fallen hard for you, an unexpected light leading her out of the darkness.

You’re startled out of your reminiscing by a hand creeping up your dress, invited in by the high riding slit at the thigh. You gulp as Ambessa’s face remains completely impassive as she sips at her wine, but you don’t miss the quick glance she sends your way, and you know exactly what she’s trying to say.

Be quiet. Don’t move. And enjoy.

Her hand climbs higher, and you hear her try in vain to supress the deep rumbling groan that threatens to emanate from her throat when she finds no underwear to stop her advance. You’re already wet from your earlier fantasising, and your clit is throbbing, begging for her attention. As she drags calloused fingers through your folds, you grit your teeth and grip the table tightly. You’re in for a ride, and regardless of the social setting, Ambessa will expect you to take what she gives you.

She wastes no time in gathering the slick pooling from you, coating her fingers before she pushes one inside. Her fingers are thick, and no matter how used to the stretch you’ve become, you relish in the burn as your pussy eagerly welcomes her inside. Your knuckles are white with how hard you’re holding on and you’re fighting to keep your breathing even, lest one of your guests suspect something’s wrong. Ambessa would hate to be interrupted.

She’s adding a second finger, smirking into her wine as she can feel you tighten around her. You can feel the pressure mounting in your belly, your entire body aching for release. You shoot her a pleading look and feel her curl her fingers in response. You start to see spots at the edge of your vision as she brings you closer and closer, all while engaging in dull conversation. Gods, you were going to make her pay for this later. Her thumb is pressing roughly against your clit in swift, calculated circles, you can feel her determination to send you tumbling over the edge. Soon enough, you are doing just that, but you’re hurtling not simply falling. Your orgasm hits you like a searing meteorite, burning through you with force and it takes all of your self-control not to cry out, biting down on your lip so hard you draw blood. You cover it up quickly by taking a sip of wine, dabbing at your mouth with your napkin and glaring at Ambessa reproachfully. She takes no notice, leaning back in her chair with a self-satisfied grin.

Shaking your head, you try to reintegrate yourself into the conversation, though none of it holds your interest. Instead, you find yourself consumed by thoughts of your handsome warrior, trailing over each scar you can see and thinking fondly of all the ones you cannot but know intimately. You will reward her mischief with a soothing massage and relaxing oils tonight, it’s been far too long since you’ve caressed her bulging muscles. But you will deny her the taste of your flesh until she begs, a fitting punishment for tonight’s shenanigans. After all, no matter what the nobles of Noxus or the visiting emissaries of foreign lands may think, no matter how imposing Ambessa may appear, you know that there is only person she will fall to her knees for. Tonight, you will make her remember why.  

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Oh man, you ever imagine Ryomen forgetting he's supposed to be an asshole in the middle of fucking you?

Like, typically he's a fucking dick, even in bed. More likely to make fun of you for being so fucked out so easily after he "barely even touched you whore," than he ever is to try and praise you. Typically.

But, every once in awhile, In the quiet dark of an autumn night- when you're tightly little cunt is hugging him so warm and so tight, and you're moaning out his name so prettily, the chink in his armor shows.

His back will shudder and he'll lace his hand with yours, pressing his forehead into your own.

"Fuck darling, you feel so good for me. My pretty girl, so perfect for me." Nights where he can forget he's supposed to be a monster and a warlord. Nights where he can just let everything go, and finally give into the intimacy he shares with you. To silently admit to himself he loves you.

Maybe he'll say it outloud one day

[mediumsizedfountain]

It's been years, but I'm back on my Star Wars shit.

I think the thing I love most about Oshamir as a ship is how much of a female power fantasy it is, and the show unapologetically leans into that aspect.

Like, Qimir as an undeniably powerful and dangerous man, but he very rapidly started shifting into the more submissive person in the relationship.

He's not a tyrant or a fascist or a warlord or anything like that which could be triggering and icky. He's a lone wolf committed to his own freedom and making his own path as he sees fit. He's a killer, but only when those deaths either protect/defend his freedom and independence, or advance the cause of his power and his personal journey.

HOWEVER, bro is also clearly lonely and touch starved, and willing to take on fake personas in order to find something resembling friendship.

This is where the female power fantasy comes in.

The minute he meets Osha, he's so immediately taken with her that he drops his fake persona and nearly reveals himself. Then when he is ready to kill everyone else to protect himself, he goes out of his way to avoid killing Osha, flirts with her mid battle, keeps checking that she's paying attention when he's talking. The man is crushing on her big time. He even seems impressed every time she fights against him.

By the end of the battle, when he finds her unconscious in the forest, our boy is already halfway in love.

What better power fantasy could there be? Not only does the most deadly man in the galaxy not want to hurt her, but he's totally smitten when all she's done is point weapons at him.

The fantasy only gets more intoxicating from there. Not only does he tuck her into bed and tend her wound, this guy COOKS HER SOUP and respectfully sets up his makeshift bed across the room.

From the moment she picks up his lightsaber, Osha starts losing her fear of him, because it's obvious this dweeb is just peacocking by showing off his nice body and his artfully arranged tendrils of hair and flirting non stop.

The way he literally puts his life in her hands and remains unflinchingly honest and straightforward with her while helping her work through her complicated emotions is only icing on the cake. Not to mention he keeps inviting her to join him, but every time she rejects him he just quietly pouts and respectfully backs down.

I'm not going into detail about how he follows her around like a devoted puppy for the rest of the season while also respecting her personal boundaries.

The bottom line is: Leslye Headland created the ultimate female power fantasy by giving Osha an overpowered monster who instantly falls for her, willingly and eagerly defangs himself, devoted himself to her needs, and submits himself to her choices.

It's also perfectly clear that he can still transform into a monster, but now he's OSHA'S monster. And he's also Osha's biggest fanboy and her eager emotional support person.

Leslye just knows what the girlies like and served it up to us on a platter.

We are so fed. Now just hoping Disney has the guts to keep trying something new by giving us a second season.

[siren-serenity]

early dawns

characters: trafalgar d water law, gn!reader warnings: fluff a/n: - HIS HAT!!! he doesnt look scary, no sirrrr - feedback is appreciated!

The sun's rising above the sapphire waters of the Grand Line. It begins its path, ready to emblaze its fiery passage across the skies. But under the seas, it refracts into thousands of tiny rays, and sea critters scurry from its brightness. The Polar Tang sails through these seas freely, unafraid. It is a reflection of the pirates within; the majority of them are still asleep and snoring away.

You mumble as the sunrays pierce through the portholes of the Polar Tang, snuggling closer to the source of warmth. A familiar, calloused hand cradles the back of your head and pushes you closer to his firm chest. Eyes opening, your finger trail along the ink-black tattoos, swirling and striking to the eye. You press a soft kiss to the smiling face in the middle and you can feel Trafalgar D. Water Law's soft smile gazing at you.

"Good morning to you too," He yawns, and you're greeted with the sweet sight of his vulnerability. He sits up, in an attempt to wake up for the day. But his tired appearance reveals his hidden desire to laze in and snooze away. Law's shoulders drooped with tiredness and his hair is mussed up and messy for the first time. His beloved spotted hat is nowhere to be found and you were free to run a hand through his messy locks. "So- hrk!"

"I'm so sorry!" You gasped, immediately untangling your fingers from his hair. Your fingers accidentally caught onto a knot of hair and pulled it. His eyes were widened, fully awake now. You mourn the loss of his sleepy looks; the way his eyes squinted cutely at the light and his cat-like hisses were adorable. "You need to brush your hair, love."

Law shrugs, running a hand through his own hair. "I'll do that later."

A firm arm guides you back to his chest and you snuggle into his warmth.

"But-"

'-Weren't you the one who wanted to sleep in?" He raised an eyebrow and you rolled your eyes. "Aye, Captain."

"None of that 'Captain' business in this cabin," Law traces the features on your face, dipping in between the contour of your nose and eyes before trailing down to your lips. He traces your Philtral column and then pause on your lower lip. "Here, it's just you and me, remember?"

You yawn, lazily dragging the blanket over your body and his.

"You and I against the world," You agreed. Against a warlord. Against other pirates. Against the Emperors of the seas. Against the entire World Government, if needed.

You raised your body and with your free hand, cradled his chin. Law's eyes fluttered as you leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. Although his favorite type of kisses were the bruising ones, where he would crush his lips to yours and run his hands all over your body, he loved these soft kisses as well. The gentleness, the featherlight touches, and sneaky tickle attacks to each other's bodies were something to be engraved in his mind as well.

"You seem tired, Law," You brushed some stray strands out of his face. A gentle smile crawled onto your face and as if it was infectious, Law's lips twitched into a tiny smile. "Back to bed?"

"Back to bed," He agreed and a yawn came out of his mouth immediately afterward. His back was suddenly enveloped with a familiar warm and you threw a hand over his waist. His fingers hesitantly tangled in yours before squeezing them tight.

You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. "Night, Law."

He smirked, but you couldn't see. "I thought it was morning?"

Law definitely deserved the pillow smack to his head that followed. But a giggle escaped from your mouth before turning into chuckles.

[fanaticsnail]

when are you going to write the Sapsorrow fic 💀💀💀💀

New Masterlist

I'll just need to watch this to refresh my memory.

The Storyteller - Sapsorrow

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it"

Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Chapter Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10 Finale

[eternalmoonlight18]

Please Please Please (Don't Prove 'Em Right) Chapter 5

Trafaglar Law x afab Female!Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter warnings: slight descriptions of pain, gore, and panic attacks.

Summary:

You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?

As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!

Updates every Sunday!

Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491

Chapter 5: The Devil Fruit

Chapter summary: You discover that Law plans to take down Doflamingo and his possible alliance with the Strawhats. You angrily get off the submarine, misunderstanding why Law needed to do it on his own. Not affording to lose his only cook on the ship, he chases after you, only to find that you have eaten a devil fruit from a nearby island.

A/N: ANGST ANGST ANGST CHAPTER!!! we're getting closer to the canon timeline! I also just came back from vacation so yeah lol. I also apologize for the late post, I came back trip and I was exhausted LOL.

PS, can you guess who your brother is in this story now? The type of Devil Fruit you ate will be revealed in the end hehe.

Also CW/TW: slight descriptions of pain, gore, and panic attacks.

I also created a taglist. Let me know if you want to be a part of it!

wc: 5k

In the middle of the night, the Polar Tang was eerily quiet. By now, the Heart Pirates have gone to bed. However, in the captain's room, a faint light can be seen seeping through the cracks of the room's door. Law is sitting on his bed, holding a tattered grey hooded shawl. His tattooed hands gently caressed it as he recalls the time when he wore the fabric. It was the day when he lost his saviour. He could never bring himself to throw out the dirty old shawl, even though it brought back one of the worst moments of his life, because it was the only thing that he had in memory of his saviour, Corazon.

The doctor leaned against the headboard of his bed and sighed as he closed his eyes. He had to make this plan work. It was a tough decision to leave his crew behind and to leave you behind, but if he wanted to succeed in taking down Kaido, he needed to face his worst nightmare first, which was the man who killed his saviour. As he gripped the shawl tighter, his eyes drifted to his desk where your bounty poster lay.

In the past couple of months, Law had gotten closer to you, the crew's cook and sniper. What used to be a mutual relationship of captain and crew has evolved into a friendship, but his heart began to yearn for something more. He was unsure if you felt the same way, but he also knew that it was foolish to act upon his feelings as he was a dangerous criminal. Putting his crew and his friends in danger due to association is something he does not want, especially if it comes to a romantic association. So he decided it was best to protect his crew, to protect you, and the best way to do it was to act on this plan with a different crew.

The tattooed captain sighed as he put away the shawl on his bedside table.

"Please forgive me everyone, (Y/n)-ya, but I must leave soon. I need to keep all of you safe and I cannot afford to lose anyone again," he murmured as he turned off the lamp that illuminated his room. He was ready to tell the crew about his plans tomorrow.

But little did he know, you were listening to him the whole time at his door.

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

The next morning, Law was met with a piece of bread on his plate at the dining table. The whole crew was eating breakfast, and he decided to join. But while you served everyone what they wanted to eat, you dropped a plate of hot garbage in front of your captain.

Angrily glaring down at Law at his seat, you kicked his seat, encouraging him to eat up. Your captain looked up at you with deadpan eyes.

"You're joking right?" he griped. "You out of all people should know that I hate bread (Y/n)-ya."

You shrugged. "I know. But everything else ran out, so eat it," you said.

"You just served Hakugan his second serving of rice balls. What do you mean you don't have anything left?" Law argued. The captain glared at Hakugan who was sitting across from him. The poor man had his cheeks full of rice balls and tried to look away.

Law glanced back at you and saw your eyes flare up with anger. "Did I do something to anger you (Y/n)-ya?" he asked.

You crossed your arms. "I don't know captain, you tell me. Did you do something?" you scoffed.

A vein started to pop on the doctor's forehead. "I don't have time for your petty games. If you have a problem with me say it right now." he gritted.

"Is that so? Well if you want it straightforward, please enlighten us on your plans to ditch the crew." you spat out.

The dining hall suddenly became quiet as the whole crew looked toward you and Law. The tattooed doctor simply sighed.

"The captain is leaving us?!"

"Wait where is he going?"

"How come we're just finding this out right now?"

The murmurs of the crew started to pick up. Bepo started to bombard Law with more questions, while Shachi and Penguin just blankly stared at their captain.

The captain rubbed his temple and glared up at you. "What gave you the idea that I was going to ditch the crew?" he questioned.

Your eye twitched in irritation. "Don't act foolish captain, I overheard you saying that you were going to leave soon!" you shouted at him.

Suddenly, Law realized that you had heard him talking to himself last night. "Why were you eavesdropping at my door last night?" he questioned.

"Stop avoiding the question captain." you spat back.

Realizing that it was useless to keep his plans under cover, the captain stood up and began to address the crew. "Since our dear cook eavesdropped on me last night and got the wrong idea, I will just tell you all now what I was going to say later on in the day," he announced.

The dining hall once fell into silence again, with everyone giving their undivided attention to their captain. Law looked at everyone, then at you, then back at everyone with hesitant eyes.

"For the next month or so, I will be going on a solo mission to take down Doflamingo, who is Kaido." he declared. "This is a two-step plan so please listen carefully. I will depart a week after we reach the New World. I will head to Punk Hazard, which is where the SMILE fruits are being produced. I plan to capture the head of production there, Caesar and use him as a bargaining chip for Doflamingo, who is a direct subordinate of Kaido as he is the one supplying the Emperor. I will force him to step down from the Warlord status and eventually will defeat him with the help of the Strawhats."

He paused for a few seconds and then continued. "I need all of you to head to Zou once I depart. We will meet there once I accomplish what I need to do. As your captain, I ask you to please trust me with this plan." he finished.

You were completely bewildered. Even though you were given a clear explanation, somehow this made you even angrier than before. Did the captain not trust you or the crew enough to assist him? It was a dangerous plan and he wanted to do it all by himself without

But before you could speak up, Penguin suddenly spoke up. "We trust you captain! You can trust us to follow through with your plan!" he affirmed.

"Yeah! Finally, you decide to take him down!" Shachi also encouraged.

"Captain!! Please be safe and come back to us!!" Bepo cried out.

The entire crew suddenly burst out into cheers, encouraging and reassuring their captain that his plan would be a success. Seeing that his crew trusted him, he let out a small smile. However, when he looked back at you, who was by his side the whole time, you were looking down with your eyes darkened. You were trembling, and Law was unsure if it was out of anger or sadness.

Law attempted to reach out to you. "(Y/n)-ya-"

"ALL OF YOU ARE IDIOTS!" you suddenly screamed.

Everyone stopped and looked at you. They saw a side of you that they never saw; you were furious. You were shaking from head to toe, with both of your hands clutched in anger. Your breath was laboured, breathing heavy as your chest heaved up and down and your face was scrunched up in a scowl.

Turning around to face Law, you grabbed the collar of his black coat and sneered. "What kind of stupid plan is that?! You're just going to get up and leave?! You don't trust any of us to help you?!" you spat at him.

Law's face twisted into a cloudy expression. His grey eyes bore into yours, with conflicted feelings written all over his face.

"I trust that all of you, especially you (Y/n)-ya to follow through with my plan. I just said that I trusted everyone here to meet me at Zou for the second part of my plan." he calmly said.

"It's not trust when none of us are assisting you. Are we a burden Captain Law? Do we hold you back? Why are you reaching out to others to help you?" you pressed on. Your angry facade started to fade and was being replaced with hurt and sadness.

"Y/N! You're pushing it!" Ikkaku yelled out to you.

"Isn't it disrespectful to question the captain's authority and motives?" Jean Bart murmured.

You let go of the collar and faced the rest of the crew. "Are all of you that blind to see that he does not trust us to help him? Why are all of you agreeing with him?" you argued.

Shachi stepped up to you and glared. "(Y/n), if the captain says that's the plan, we have to follow it." he countered.

Your eyes bore into Law's once more. "Answer me oh dear captain. What's the reason for doing this without us?" you questioned once more.

Law never had anyone one of his crew members question his plans or authority. Seeing you speak up and question him made him feel uncomfortable and angry. He was the captain and he knew what was best for you and for everyone in the submarine.

"Because (Y/n)-ya, this whole operation is something I need to do alone. I need all of you to be safe, and this mission can result in casualties. I am not trying to lose all of my crew in this." he lowly answered.

That was not the answer you wanted to hear.

"So what you're saying is, we're too weak to help?" you breathily said.

"That's not what I meant-" he started but you cut him off with a sarcastic laugh.

"We're pirates, captain. What makes you think we can't hold out on our own? We fought mercilessly against marines and other pirates, but you think we cannot handle some big shot like Doflamingo?!" you screamed at him.

The captain had enough of your disrespect towards him. Why couldn't you see that he was trying to protect you?

"(Y/n)-ya! You are to follow my orders! Have trust in me as your captain!" he finally shouted back.

"Trust? You have the guts to talk about trust when you can't even trust us to fight alongside you!" you countered back at him.

The entire crew watched you and Law scream at each other like a tennis match. The once easy-going vibe was now replaced with suffocating tension in the dining room.

You took a step back as your eyes started to well up. You were hurt that the captain decided to toss you and the crew aside for a mission. You didn't understand why he couldn't trust everyone enough to fight with him. After all, it was your duty as his subordinate right?

Or was it your duty because you didn't want him to leave your side?

"I had so much respect for you captain. Now, I don't know," you whispered, finally breaking the silence. You felt your heart hammering through your chest, anxious about the whole situation.

However, the next sentence that Law said broke your heart even more.

"If you don't agree with me, then feel free to leave (Y/n)-ya."

Your eyes darkened as your head hung, looking at the floor. The whole crew gasped and started to murmur.

"Hey, he must be joking right?"

"Well, she started questioning the captain and disrespecting him."

"Hey (Y/n), you're not going to leave right?"

You looked back up at Law, but instead of tears filling your eyes, he saw an unreadable expression. He knew he shouldn't have said those words, but he couldn't take them back. He understood the difficult decisions he had to make as a leader of a pirate crew. It was either he kept you safe or risk losing you forever. By choosing the former, it was best that if you refused to follow his plan, he would rather have you leave his crew.

You let out a soundless laugh. You thought he would care, but turns out he was willing to throw you away. You turned to your right and spoke to Bepo as you finally decided. "Bepo, surface this submarine right now," you said.

The mink started to panic. "(Y/n)-san-"

"Surface. Now," you darkly ordered. The polar bear started apologizing profusely as he scrambled to the helm of the submarine.   

Penguin and Shachi scurried up to you in panic. "Hey (Y/n)! You know that captain didn't mean that right?" Penguin tried to explain.

Ikkaku also hurried by your side. "No wait! Don't go we need you!" she begged.

You bitterly smiled at your friends. "No, clearly I have overstayed my welcome here. I'm going." you sighed. As they tried to reach out and hug you, you shrugged them off and stormed off to your room to pack your things.

The entire crew started to frantically urge their captain to take his words back and not let you go. But amidst the chaos, he could only watch your figure disappear out the door as his heart ached.

30 minutes later, you were gone and out of the Polar Tang.

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

You sailed your small boat towards a small island populated with lush forest with sand that surrounded the area. You only had your clothes, some food, a log pose and your denden mushi in your essentials bag. You were rowing for two hours so you collapsed in exhaustion when you set foot on the sanded beach. With your back on the sand, you stared up at the clear blue sky as the sun shone bright. Recalling your argument with Law, your eyes started to well up with tears, this time letting them run freely down the sides of your face. You immediately brought your hands to your eyes and attempted to wipe them as you wailed in desperation. You thought you and Law were friends, you thought that you were respected as much as you respected him. All the times you got to know him, and became closer with your captain, was all for nothing.

After crying for a good 30 minutes, you got up and proceeded to make your way into the forest with your bag in tow. You were now wearing a tank top with black baggy pants. It was the first time you wore regular clothes in a while. Trudging through the sand, you found yourself coming in contact with something small on your left foot. You look down to see a pear-like fruit lying halfway buried in the sand. It piqued your interest, so you crouch down and pick it up with your left hand. Looking closely, it was decorated with swirls with a weird feather-shaped stem on top.

"Weird, this looks like a Devil Fruit," you muttered as you gave it a sniff. You decided to put it in your bag and continued to trudge in the forest. You explored around for twenty minutes, looking for a place to rest. After an hour of walking, you were starting to get dehydrated and hungry. You also noticed it started to get darker. Looking up, you realized that storm clouds quickly gathered and rain was slowly starting to fall, so you picked up your pace and started running, hoping to run into a big tree to shelter under. However, a tree root caught on your right foot, and you fell to the ground, hitting your head on a small log. The bag that you were holding fell in front of your face with the contents spilling out of it.

The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the Devil Fruit rolling out of your bag.

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

"Captain...we have to go back for (Y/n)-san!" Bepo pleaded as he gripped Law's left leg.

The captain was sitting crosslegged as he read a book on the common area couch of the Polar Tang. He was dressed in a simple black tee with his signature spotted jeans. He simply grunted in response, his eyes not looking away from the book.

Shachi, Penguin and Ikkaku stood in front of their captain. All three of them were visibly pissed and worried that their dear friend and crewmate left.

"Captain! Please be reasonable! I get it that she was somewhat disrespectful, but she doesn't know the real reason for your plan!" Shachi spluttered.

"Shachi is right!" Penguin agreed. "She doesn't know about Corazon at all!"

As Corazon was mentioned, the tattooed doctor let out a 'tch' as a vein started to pop up on his temple.

Ikkaku rolled her eyes. "Both of you don't know how to communicate with one another, and you guys aren't official yet," she muttered.

Law whipped his head up and glared at his crew member. "Are you implying that I would be in a romantic relationship with one of my subordinates?" he hissed.

"Oh come on cap, it was so obvious you have a crush on her." the curly-haired girl spat back.

He remained silent after that. The three crewmates looked at each other with blank faces.

The polar bear proceeded to get up and sat on the floor at Law's feet. "I'm worried for her Captain. You know how clumsy she can be. What if she hits her head or accidentally drowns?" the mink fretted.

The captain's left foot started to tap on the floor. Seeing that Law was starting to get anxious with the idea of you getting hurt, Shachi started to rile him up even more.

"Yeah, you're right Bepo. Knowing Y/n, she might get eaten by a large snake or something." he hummed.

"Remember the time she pissed off this giant bear and almost got her head bitten off?" Ikkaku added on.

"Oh yeah! I also remembered when she lit herself on fire when-" Penguin continued before he got cut off.

"Okay! We will retrieve her." Law said finally snapping as he suddenly rose from the couch. The four crewmates suddenly broke up into a smile and cheered.

The captain frowned as he proceeded to exit the common area and started to walk to the helm.

"You're lucky I care about you (Y/n)-ya," he lowly muttered as he got ready to surface his submarine.

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

The first thing you felt waking up was your stomach rumbling.

Your eyes slowly opened as you started to gain consciousness. Your entire body was completely wet and covered with leaves and dirt. You shivered as you felt the cold breeze hit your skin. As your body started to wake up, you felt a sharp pain on your right foot and your forehead as you tried to get up.

"Urghh," you groaned as you pushed yourself up to sit on your bum. Your stomach growled loudly in hunger. Clutching your stomach with your left arm in hunger pain, you started to pat with your right hand around the area for the food that had fallen out of your bag since your sight was still blurry. The first thing your hand came in contact with was what seemed to be a small fruit with lumps, so you picked it up and proceeded to bite into it absentmindedly.

As you chewed the fruit in your mouth, you immediately became repulsed at how disgusting it tasted. Your face twisted in disgust as you continued to chew it and swallow it. After a few bites, your vision started to clear up and looked down to see what you were eating.

"Oh shit!" you shouted as you dropped the fruit. You scrambled to get up, but your legs gave up on you as your face met the ground. Getting up once again, your heart started to palpitate as you realized you had eaten a Devil Fruit.

Tears started to gather in your eyes again as you attempted to throw up the fruit. "No, no, no, no!" you mentally screamed as you attempted to wretch up the fruit from your stomach. "I refuse to be like my devil fruit freak of a brother!"

Your fingers started to dig into the ground, Your head started to spin as you started to breathe heavily. Tears dripped down your face and into the ground, as you slammed your head into the ground as you tried to throw up. While your panic attack starting to show, Law and the Heart Pirates started to show up by your side.

Law heard your screams once he set foot on the nearest island he found. He figured you would be at this deserted forest island since it was the nearest one to the submarine. Your wails echoed through the forest and into the beachy area of the island. As soon as the captain heard your screams, his heart dropped and started to sprint into the forest. Running the fastest he's ever run, he followed the sound of your yells until he spotted you, on all fours with your head down. The tattooed doctor's heart raced as he hoisted you up off the ground. His eyes scanned your body as he saw your entire body littered with dirt and grime. Your right foot was completely bloody and a lump started to show on the side of your head.

You looked up to see who picked you up and were met with familiar steel-grey eyes. Blinking away your tears, you started to shake as you realized that your captain had come back from you. His face expressed great concern, with his iris trembling as he gripped onto your left arm tightly.

"C-captain?" you quietly squeaked.

The next thing you knew, your head collided with his broad chest as he enveloped you in a hug.

"You stupid, stupid girl." He lowly muttered into your left ear. You lightly blushed as you felt his warm hands hold onto your hips. You felt your breath starting to stabilize. With your emotions at an all-time high, you continued to cry and shake in Law's chest.

The rest of the crew caught up to Law and saw your battered body in his arms. They all cried out to you seeing how hurt and dirty you were.

The doctor pulled you away from his chest and looked at you with concern. "What happened?" he asked.

You opened your mouth to answer back, but you were so lightheaded from crying and your panic attack that you blacked out once more, this time falling into your captain's arms. Law's tattooed hands caught onto you, immediately hoisting you up into a bridal style as soon as your body went limp. With his eyes not leaving your body, he commanded his crew to get the submarine ready for departure.

"Everyone back on the submarine now! Penguin, get the infirmary bed ready. Shachi set up the IV, she's severely dehydrated." he commanded.

"Yes, captain!" everyone shouted as they proceeded to rush back. Law glanced down at your unconscious form once with regret on his face before he shambled both of you back to the Polar Tang.

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

"...(Y/n)-ya," you heard someone call out.

Your eyes started to slowly open as you regained your consciousness. As your vision cleared, you realized that you were back in the one place you swore to never visit again.

"Am I in hell?" you groaned as your voice started to wake up.

You heard someone sigh beside you. "Is that the first thing you're going to say after being almost left for dead?" a low voice said.

You turned your head to the right and saw that Law was sitting next to your bed. Your eyes trailed up to his face and saw that he had an unreadable expression resting on his handsome face.

"Captain, you came back for me?" you croaked.

A small smirk danced on his lips. "You wish, the crew was just annoying me to get you back." he lightly joked.

A chuckle left your lips as you turned your head back straight to stare up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry for disrespecting you, captain." You apologized. Shifting your body in nervousness, you once again faced the man to your right.

"I guess I wanted to be useful. I am part of the crew after all. I'm a pirate, I know how to fight and take care of myself. But in all honestly captain, I..." you stopped to look into his eyes. "I didn't want to leave your side while you were fighting against a powerful person. I care for you as your subordinate and friend," you admitted.

Law's breath hitched once you spilled your confession. His stoic heart started to pick up as you told him that you cared for him. However, his face remained cold, not letting his facade down.

"Caring for me is foolish (Y/n)-ya. But I appreciate your concern. I also apologize for letting my emotions get the best of me. You are a valued member of my crew and I understand that your pride as a pirate was hurt when I shut you down." he spoke.

Your chest rumbled as you chuckled. "I guess I was being prideful too huh? What can I say, I'm a Heart Pirate after all."

"Your foolishness knows no bounds." your captain lightly joked as he shook his head. A smile started to form on his lips again. He began to speak until you cut him off.

"I know you must have your reasons on why you insist on doing the mission on your own. You can tell me when you're ready captain," you said.

Law's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then quickly went back to his usual demeanour. "Alright then, I will tell you about it when you're all recovered."

You smiled. "Great. So will you let me come with you on your mission?" you asked.

Law's face fell. "No."

"Oh come on" you whined.

"I said no."

"I'll run away again if you don't let me."

The doctor scowled. "I'll think about it."

"Yes!" you yelled as you proceeded to get up. However, your body let you tell you that you were in too much pain to get up.

You moaned in pain as you slowly set yourself down on the bed. Your captain rolled his eyes.

"You idiot, you injured your leg and head. Do not rapidly get up like that." he reprimanded.

"Sorry." you huffed.

Your mind suddenly wandered back to when you accidentally ate the devil fruit and you winced.

"Is something else hurting you?" your doctor asked with concern as he saw you wince.

"Uhm," you started, "Well, I might have eaten something..."

"What? Was it a plant? Mushroom? Something poisonous?" he pressed on with worry laced in his voice.

You looked away as you started to sweat. "Uhm, I accidentally ate a devil fruit on the island..." you quietly muttered.

There was a pregnant pause.

"You what?!" Law hissed at you as he stood up straight from his chair. "Why would you do that?!"

"It was an accident! I was hungry and grabbed the first thing I saw! It was the reason why you saw me freak out..." you explained carefully.

The tattooed captain sighed as he leaned back on the chair. "You do realize that you cannot swim anymore right?"

"I never learned how to in the first place," you muttered.

"That's not the point. Do you know what kind of powers you gained?" he asked.

You hummed as you thought about the question. "Not sure, nothing happened to me yet."

"Well if you find out, you must tell me right away alright?"

"Okay, cap."

"Do not call me that."

"Sorry cap."

"Tch," Law grunted as he got up from his chair. "Go back to sleep and rest. You don't need to eat for now since you have an IV connected to you. I'll check up on you every hour or so. Let me know if you need something or if you're feeling any more pain. And do not rip the IV off like you did last time." he commanded as he proceeded to walk out of the infirmary.

"Yes sir." you sarcastically shot at him. Sleep was catching up to you once again. Your eyes closed as you called out to your captain.

"What is is (Y/n)-ya?" he asked.

"Thank you for taking me back captain. I won't let you down." you sighed as your sleep started to take over you.

Law paused as he was halfway out the door. "You owe me a serving of rice balls," he answered back. But what he wanted to say to you was;

"Don't ever run away from me like that again. I will always come back to find you."

He chuckled and sighed as he closed the infirmary door once he realized you were fast asleep.

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

Bonus Scene:

You were woken up with loud cheers down the hall. Your eyes shot open as you heard the crew cheer your name. It seemed like they were celebrating your return.

"Those idiots celebrating but I'm not even there," you muttered. Closing your eyes once more, you tried to let sleep overtake you but their cheers and ramblings were keeping you awake.

Scoffing in annoyance, you flipped to your left side and tried to cover your ears with your pillow and your right palm.

"Ugh, I wish it would be silent right now!" you groaned as you snapped your fingers in annoyance.

Suddenly, everything went silent. You sighed in relief as you no longer heard the rambunctious crew. You were about to snooze once more until you realized what happened. Your eyes shot up as you suddenly sat up on the bed.

"Oh fuck."

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

TAGLIST:

@hopelesslover06 @shakysif @eyes-ofhell @letmereadchristonabike @bi-narystars @valval08

[dexlexia]

dracule - mihawk x reader

pairing: dracule mihawk x reader rating: 18+ summary: Mihawk was a warlord of the sea. He was a feared swordsman, he crossed oceans and slayed anyone who got in his way. Mihawk was a strong man, the kind of man you didn't want to face alone in a fight and to be honest even having a crew by your side wouldn't help either. Fear would be an emotion you'd feel if you were faced with him. 

But you simply knew him as - ”Dracule!“  tags: fluff, smut, injured!reader, anime canon, sweet & cute, gentle sex, multiple positions

Mihawk was a warlord of the sea. He was a feared swordsman, he crossed oceans and slayed anyone who got in his way. Mihawk was a strong man, the kind of man you didn't want to face alone in a fight and to be honest even having a crew by your side wouldn't help either. Fear would be an emotion you'd feel if you were faced with him. 

But you simply knew him as - ”Dracule!“ 

  ”Yes, my dear.“ He said as he came to the doorframe of the bedroom you both shared. In the centre of the bed lay your sick form. In all fairness you were for the most part fine, but the big bruise on your face said otherwise. 

It looked worse than it felt, but Mihawk was worried. The greatest swordsman was shaken by the fact that the person he loved had a bruise. He came closer and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out to the side of your face that wasn't bruised. 

  ”It's cold.“ You pouted. 

He leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips, ”I will get you another blanket then.“ He knew you were playing it up a little, but the worrying guilt in his stomach made it hard for him to dismiss your whining. 

He got up and went to the chest near the far wall of the bedroom that was stuffed with extra blankets and pillows. He grabbed a nice quilt that he got in the northern islands. They could keep anyone warm.

  ”Here you go.“ He said as he laid out the blanket across you. But before he could turn to leave the room, you reached out and grabbed him on the arm.

  ”Stay?” You asked. 

He exhaled, “Perona and Zoro will be wondering why dinner hasn't been made yet.“ He turned to look at you, gold eyes scanned your body that was neatly tucked under three layers of blankets. 

  ”Well the strays can fend for themselves. I want my man.” You softly smiled at your own comment. Mihawk returned the smile before he got into bed with you. He was quick to make sure no heat escaped from under the blankets as he pulled you into his arms.

  “I guess so.” He replied as he caned his neck down to kiss your on the head. He was so soft in private. So caring and warm, while most thought he was a vampire you saw the heart beneath it all. To be a warlord meant to be stoic and unemotional, but behind closed doors Mihawk was a kind lover. 

He pulled away and lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “How is your bruise?”

  “Better. Doesn't ache.” You replied. You were a little emabressed by how you got such a big bruise. It looked like someone took a lead pipe to your face. 

  “You could've broken something. Next time you want to clean the weaponry, please get myself or one of our strays to help. I'm pretty sure Roronoa would be happy to find *something* else to do with his time rather than lift weights and drink all my liquor.“

You blushed, ”I know, Dracule.“ You snuggled up closer to him and kissed his face. You felt content and even rubbed your legs together in the sheer happiness of being close to him. Your Dracule.

  ”I worry.“ He said, ”I know you are not a weak woman, but I brought you here to protect you. I don't want the things in our home posing a risk too.“ He pushed hair out of your face to keep it away from the healing bruise. 

  ”I'll always be okay, honey.“ You said as you tangled your legs with his and moved down to press your head against his clothed chest, ”Because you're here.“ 

  ”And I will be here until my last breath, my dear.” He leaned down to kiss you on the top of the head. He wrapped those arms tighter around you and held you close. You could hear his heartbeat and you pressed both hands against his chest. When you sighed constantly, he was able to do the same. 

There were not many things he held dear in this world but as he held you so close to him, he felt like everything worth fighting for was nestled in his arms. Despite being injured, you were as perfect as ever. A dream in his eyes. 

Eventually you moved further up the bed to look into his eyes. You reached out for him and placed a hand on his face. You rubbed your hand against his facial hair and you smiled at him. 

  ”My Dracule.“ You said, ”The bravest swordsman, the scary warlord. But I could never be afraid of you.“ You leaned in and kissed him on the lips. 

  ”And I will do everything in my power to never make you afraid of me. I care for you too deeply, my soul is tied with yours in this world and the next. I will fight in my dying breath to protect you.“ 

You felt the heat rise into your cheeks from his endearing words. He sounded like an old poet when he spoke, but the low rumble of his voice paired with the closeness to you made you feel more loved then with any other man. 

You kissed again, and he held onto you tighter. So close, so intimate that it left a swirl of warmth in your gut. When you pulled away from his lips you went to his ear and asked, ”I want to be closer, Dracule.“ 

  ”Then closer we shall be.” He replied as he started to unbutton his shirt. He watched you with careful eyes as you undressed as well. He observed every mark on your skin. He breathed deeply through his nose as he continued to get undressed. 

Soon you were both nude. Your hands explored his body, the expanse of muscle and the admiring every mark on his body. Even though the scars were old, you could see them faintly. You pressed another kiss against his lips and felt your heart flutter in your chest. It was a euphoric feeling, the ability to be so close to him. 

He was godsent. He placed a hand on your ass and gave it a firm squeeze as you two kissed. It got warmer under the covers as the two of you felt each other up. He groaned into the kiss when you softly touched his cock. 

He shuddered when you grasped onto it and gave a firm stroke. But he quickly deepened the kiss and continued to passionately make out with you. The heat in the room rose as he explored your body with his soft hands. 

Despite his use of a sword he always kept his hands so soft. But they were strong and his grip could be bruising. You moaned into the kiss as he grabbed your ass once more and massaged the cheek with his palm.

  “Does that feel good?" He asked, “Do you like that?”

 “I love it, Dracule.” You moaned into the kiss. When you pulled away you kicked the covers to the bottom of the bed and wrapped your leg around his waist as you continued to feverishly make out with you.

Mihawk loved when you liked this. A normal poised, in control woman succumbed to the deep desire of her lover. It was almost endearing how badly you wanted him. He knew your heart was racing. 

  “You look divine.” He said as he held onto the thigh that was at his waist and stroked the warm soft skin. He traced patterns into your skin while the two of you kissed. The soft sounds of your kissing filled the room. 

  “Dracule.” 

  “Mmm, yes.” 

His touch became more aggressive the more you made out. And soon he was moving you onto his lap with his cock pressed against your ass. His hands at your hips, he rubbed circles into your left hip with his thumb as you adjusted yourself onto his lap. 

  “You look divine too.” 

  “Thank you.” He said, he tensed up as you raised your hips and seated yourself onto his cock. He held onto your hips tightly as you got comfortable. He exhaled deeply but it got caught in his throat however when you started to move your hips.

  ”Like that?“ You asked.

  ”Yes, you are doing perfect.“ He replied as he moved his hips. He rolled them against you as you moved in return. His heat raced in his chest as he felt your tight heat around his cock. He tried to hold back his noises for the sake of the others in the castle but that plan was soon abandoned when the pleasure became insurmountable as you continued to move up and down his length.

  ”Ah!“ You moaned, ”Dracule.“ You placed both hands on his toned chest to keep yourself stable as you rode him. You moaned and moved your hips as you felt the pleasure well up in your gut. You loved having sex with Dracule, it was an intense feeling that you couldn't put words to. 

He looked at you with such tenderness, such commitment to his cause. The cause of loving you, to be a loyal man to you. You leaned down and kissed him once more as you rolled your hips. You were a tight fit around him, but he found the feeling quite amazing. 

Pleasure roamed through both of your bodies as you passionately made out. Like two halves of the same whole, a perfect fit for one another. You felt your heat hammer in your chest as you continued to move with Mihawk matching your pace. The kiss deepened as you moved. 

The pleasure was an immense feeling, the sounds of sex filled the room ad most likely bothering your other guests. But in that moment neither of you cared, you only wanted one another. You only wanted the rush of pleasure that came from being in bed with the warlord himself. 

  ”You are a gift.“ He said, ”The gift I want to unwrap over and over again and devour your bearings. I want to worship where you stand and be loyal till I am nothing more than a pile of bones.“

You smiled and pressed your forehead to his while you continued to move your hips, “Good thing, Dracule.” He said, “I'm not going anywhere.”

  “Excellent.“ He said as he kissed you once more. He groaned against your lips as he matched your pace. His cock was nudging against your sweet spot as you both felt the wash of pleasure over both of you.  ”A sight to behold.“ He added as he pressed his forehead against yours. His breathing was ragged. He could feel the sweat on his body as he held you against him. 

  ”Dracule.“ You said in a slightly higher voice as you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

  "I am not going anywhere, dear.' He said, ”As you say, we are stuck together.“ He grabbed you by the hair and held your head back as he gazed into your eyes with devotion. 

  ”Please.“ You said.

  ”Always.“ He replied as he quickly moved you over so you were on your stomach with your ass in the air, facing him. He sank into you once more, the pleasure still swirled in his gut. He watched you grip the pillow as he started to fuck you. 

You moaned into the soft pillow under your head as he moved quickly against you. The slapping sound of sex was dominant in the room as he made quick work to make you orgasm. 

With another hard thrust, he finished inside of you but kept the pace of his thrusts until you came as well. Then slowly his pace ended and he pulled out. He grabbed you in his arms and laid in bed with you. Your bare bodies are exposed to the cooling bedroom air. 

  ”How was that?" He asked, “Does your face hurt?”

  “No, no, Dracule. Everything is perfect.' You sighed contently in his arms. You felt at peace, even in the care of the most feared swordsman. He may be Mihawk to most, but to you he will always be - “Dracule~”

[innerfare]

Crocodile Relationship Headcanons

Summary: a random collection of Crocodile relationship headcanons

Genre: I don't wanna say fluff because a relationship with this man wouldn't exactly be fluffy, but... it's fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

This man is the human embodiment of a Lana Del Rey song. “You’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million dollar beli man, so why is my heart broke?” 

On and off again. The man acquired a high enough status as a pirate to become a Warlord, may have been in prison a time or two before that, ran an underground crime syndicate, spent some time in Impel Down and fought a war, and then started yet another criminal organization in the New World, leaving him with very little down time. But you’re the person he goes to when he lacks confidence or feels a little too cynical about the world. 

Has fallen asleep in your arms a total of three times, but that’s three more times than he’s fallen asleep in anyone else’s arms (except for that time fifteen years ago when he passed out from blood loss after a fight and Daz caught him, but they don’t talk about that). 

Looks down on himself for being soft on you, like some sort of sniveling schoolboy. 

Considered poisoning you when he realized you had become his weakness, but decided against it because he’s not convinced it would actually rid him of the dreadful affection he feels toward you and would instead make the feeling more intense. The only thing worse than wanting to hold you in his arms is wanting to hold you in his arms but not being able to (this man thinks he should be able to do whatever he wants whenever he wants, so it checks out). 

Also only ever uses the word affection, and even then, only uses it sparingly. Would rather die than say love. Thinks it’s rather undignified for a man of his stature to love someone. Affection, though, is tolerable in small doses and with much secrecy. Will tolerate you calling him your lover but not saying you love him. It's a very fine line you have to toe.

Takes your security very seriously, but also knows you can fend for yourself; would never think fondly of someone who couldn’t fight their own battles. Not only would he not respect you, he wouldn’t much like having to worry incessantly.  

Doesn’t completely hide you from the world. Rather, he paints your relationship as one of business and uses this as an excuse to protect you like he would any other asset. It's calculated and cunning, exactly what you've come to expect from your lover.

Daz Bones is the only person who knows about your long history with Crocodile. Buggy thinks it’s purely sex. Mihawk has his suspicions, but he doesn’t ask any questions. Daz also doesn’t question Crocodile about his attachment to you, though he does recognize early on that you’re one of Crocodile’s handful of weaknesses and as such should be regarded as dangerous. Would kill you in a heartbeat if he thought you were a serious threat to his captain. Has most definitely had the, “anything you do to him, I’ll do to you,” talk with you behind Crocodile’s back. 

Crocodile showers you in jewels, some stolen and some purchased. He rather enjoys plucking diamonds off the necks of people he disdains and stringing them around yours, but he also likes having custom pieces made for you. 

Buys you a house on an island he has a firm presence on, a place to your taste and secluded enough from the outside world that you’ll be protected from prying eyes. He never tells you when he'll be visiting, just shows up and expects you to be available.

Shows up at your doorstep after Marineford. Doesn’t say much, just accepts a bath and warm meal and sleeps in your bed for two or three days as he heals from his injuries. You know something is very wrong when he doesn’t tell you his injuries are nothing. You also know it’s a very big deal that he lets you seem him in such a vulnerable state. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War (Pt 5)

Summary: Seducing a Warlord is harder than Reader anticipated, especially when he seems so keen on taking care of her, but what happens when the past starts catching up with the present?

Content Warnings: SMUT (Porn with Feelings, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex); Mentions of Past Abuse; Drinking.

Previous Chapter/ Masterlist

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

I thought years of hiding my true feelings and desires from my father and subsequently Tamlin would prepare me for this sort of thing. I’ve spent my entire life delaying my wants and needs, shoving aside personal feelings for the sake of duty. I’ve become a master of shoving my needs aside to tend to everyone else’s without ever letting it slip that this isn’t what I want. So why the hell is it suddenly so hard?

Why, when given an opportunity to finally see the encampment and take stock of supplies and fighting men, did I all but beg to go back to Rhysand’s tent? There’s suddenly this needy, desperate thing that lives inside me and one touch is not enough to satisfy the roaring in my blood. As soon as lunch was finished, I’d all but dragged a freaking Illyrian Warlord into my bed.

Hell, it’s not even my bed! It’s his!

I should be better than this, yet, as soon as the tent flap shuts behind us, I toss my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss like my life depends on it. His lips are so damn soft! Plush and full against my own, parting as I slide my tongue behind his teeth, trying to take in more of him. His lips are such a contrast to the rest of him, all hard muscle and fighting leathers and some irrational part of me feels like it might die if I do not feel that firmness between my legs again.

He wraps an arm around my waist keeping me flush against his chest and this top is so damn thin I can practically feel the scrape of leather against my peeked nipples. There's still too little friction; I reach a hand down to pull at the fabric, trying to maneuver myself around enough to get it off in hopes that he’ll touch me like he had last night. 

“Such a needy little thing,” he chuckles against my lips.

“Please,” I whimper, trying to go in for another kiss, but missing in my haste, lips brushing over his chin. I’m not even sure what I’m begging for more. I need him to touch me, kiss me, fill me. Every one feels like it’s at war within me, fighting for dominance. I could cry at the understimulation, need pulsing through my veins like he might be the only thing keeping me alive.

I hate it! I don’t know how I’ve ended up here. I’ve gone years without sex. Have denied my desires and tried to be the good, demure little thing my father wanted so he could pawn me off. I played my part until I couldn’t take it anymore and found someone to scratch the itch who wouldn’t be brave enough to tell anyone what we’d done. But even then I hadn’t felt like this.

His hands slowly inch up my waist, his eyes glinting playfully as I squirm under his careful ministrations. “Didn’t you just fall apart on my hand?”

That might as well have been days ago, at the point.

My body feels like it’s on fire, every breath an effort as his callused hands scrape over my breasts. I want the motion repeated on my bare skin, thumbs circling and teasing my sensitive nipples.

“Please, Rhys.” I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to, I’ll do anything to ease this frenzied feeling beneath my skin. 

His fingers skim the top of my shirt, barely brushing my flushed skin. It’s too cold out for me to feel this hot. Am I getting sick? Do I have a fever? Why am I sweating?

He purses his lips, now pink and swollen from how forcefully I’d been kissing him, “Since you asked so sweetly.” He doesn’t bother pulling the top over my head, just grabs the collar and yanks, the material splitting evenly down the center before he hurls it behind me. 

The ease in which he does that makes heat pool in my core, and I clench my thighs together. A move that doesn’t go unnoticed, especially in this skirt, as he lifts me up into his arms, setting my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed. 

I put my lips on his throat, nipping and sucking marks into his skin as I grind my hips against his waist. More more more. How is this still not enough? I want these leathers off him. Want to run my hands over his tattooed chest, drag my nails over his shoulders and back; want to touch and claim as he does the same to me. 

Claim. The word makes my stomach twist in a bad way as he lays me down in the center of the bed, surrounded once again by all these pelts and furs that linger with the jasmine and citrus scent of him. I shouldn’t want to claim anything of his. Yet, as soon as I’m sat against the mattress, I push myself up enough to reach for the ties of his leathers, cinched tight beneath his left arm.

My body roars for more, despite all rational thought and protest. I need him like I need air, so desperate my hands are practically shaking around the ties. 

He chuckles as he presses another quick kiss to my lips. “Do you want help, mate?” His voice is lower here, a deep caress that feels like it wraps itself around my body. I shiver under the heat of it, trying not to acknowledge that I’m the only person I’ve heard him use this voice on. 

“Want you out of these. Now!” I hiss, moving myself onto my knees to get a better angle. 

He moves my hands lower, showing me an easier place to start unlacing them, and as soon as I get them untied, I push the leather off him and the bed, letting it clatter to the floor as I lean forward and place my lips to where his shoulder meets his neck. It’s a quick scrape of teeth, leaving a little mark before I follow the trail of his tattoos down his pectorals, nipping and biting as I go. 

I’m royally fucked, but I can’t stop. My hands are everywhere, tracing the plains of his body, until I get low enough to reach for the ties on his pants. There’s a little patch of dark hair beneath his navel, trailing down beneath his waistband and I head that direction with my lips. 

My lips brush the tip of that matching scar on his side, but I don’t stop to ask how he got it or who gave it to him. I know. And I don’t care. I don’t care what my father would have said if he knew what I was doing. 

I scrape my teeth over the little strip of skin visible above his waistband, my hands already reaching for the ties on his pants and he groans, a hand threading into my hair. He whispers my name like it’s a prayer, like this is something holy and divine, not this twisted sin I’ve made it out to be in my head. It certainly doesn’t feel like sin now.

These laces are easier, not cinched as tight as his chest piece, and I start pushing the leather down his hips, following the trail of them with my lips until the hand in my hair gives a little tug, halting me in place.

“Might be a little easier if I just…” a flick of his wrist and the rest of his clothes disappear entirely. A curious magic I’d like to see more of, later, when I can think clearly again. Even now it occurs to me that it would have been kind of hard to get him out of his pants while he was still wearing his boots. I’m not even entirely sure how I got the chest piece off without catching them in his wings in the first place. 

All questions for later. I’m sure a people with wings have made creative ways to put on and take off clothing, and maybe that would be something useful to know in terms of weak points in their armor, but I’m too far gone to ask as I drink in Rhysand’s fully naked form. I certainly hadn’t appreciated it enough last night. I could spend a very, very long time appreciating it now. He is miles of long, lean muscle and bronze skin, the sliver of light coming in beneath the tent enough to make him look like he’s glowing. Every bit of him has me itching to trace my hands over him, from the curl that’s falling over his forehead into his eyes all the way down to his very hard and heavy cock, now at attention against his abs. Gods he’s a lot bigger than I realized.

I get my hand around him as the hand in my hair yanks me up for another searing kiss, his lips hungry against my own. Beads of pre-cum dribble from his tip and I swirl my thumb over it as I get a better grip on his shaft and give him a testing pump. The moan he makes into my mouth, his eyes squeezing shut, chest heaving makes me think I’m not the only one that feels like they're on fire. 

I repeat the motion, just to hear that glorious sound come out of him again.

The hand in my hair slides down my cheek until he can get a firm grasp on my throat, fingers tight enough to make me gasp a little but not enough to restrict my airway. “Keep that up,” he rasps, lips brushing mine. “And I’m not going to last very long.”

It is a heady sort of glee that spurs me into doing it a third time, knowing that I hold even a modicum of power over this male. Everybody fears him. His prowess is legendary in both battle and in magic. Yet he sits here on his knees, pupils blown so wide I almost can’t see the violet, swollen lips parted in a gasp as I struggle to wrap a hand around his cock, completely at my mercy.

“Maybe I don’t want you to last very long,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper around the hand that holds my throat. Not because it hurts, I could pull free if I wanted to, but I don’t. The heat of him makes the burning beneath my skin feel like it’s lessening, soothed now by just the touch of his skin alone. “Maybe I want to see you come undone with just my hands.” 

He catches my wrist with speed I forgot he was capable of, before I can move on him again. “When I cum, I want it to be inside you.”

I clench my thighs together as wetness pools between them. “Death Incarnate only has one round in him, hm?” I manage to tease.

His eyes narrow, teeth flashing in a snarl as he pulls me off him and pushes me down onto my back against the mattress. His body is hot and heavy over mine as he slots himself between my legs. “Hardly,” his lips meet mine in a searing kiss that makes the room spin. “But we leave in thirty minutes and that’s simply not enough time to do everything I want to you.”

“We?” The word turns into a squeal as he gets his lips around my nipple and swirls his tongue over it. I pinch my eyes shut, back arching like I could push myself any farther into his mouth. 

“I meant what I said about you riding with me,” he says, hot breath over my now damp nipple making me shiver. He brushes his lips over my other one, teasingly. “And now that I have a taste of you, why would I leave you alone in our bed?”

Ours.

I whimper as he runs his tongue over me. He’s too good to be true. This has to be a wild dream. No male could feel this good.

He slides a hand beneath my back, arching my body so he can kiss his way down my stomach without having to bend down. I’m somehow still wearing a skirt, but only for a moment before he yanks it off my hips and tosses it over his shoulder. My whole body shakes when he runs his tongue up my center. I’d thought the under stimulation might kill me before, but this feels somehow like too much, even as my body begs for more.

“Rhys,” I beg like a sinner at the altar of an ancient deity in desperate need of salvation. 

He hums approvingly as he kisses his way back up my body and my legs instinctively open wider so he can settle between them. I’ve never been this pliant with anyone, nothing has ever felt this natural. His rightful place is between my legs, chest to chest, lips brushing over my skin as his callused hands settle on my thighs and drag me into whatever position he sees fit. 

He teases the tip of his cock against my entrance and if there was any chance I had a thought in my head aside from him before, it’s certainly gone now. I am not whole if he is not inside me. 

“Mate,” the word slips out of me as I babble and plead and get a hand around the back of his neck in an attempt to pull him into me.

That’s really all it takes for him to tighten his grip on my hips and sheath himself inside me, a growl rumbling through his chest as he buries his face in my neck and nips at my tender skin. 

The stretch of him inside me is too much and yet not enough and I rake my nails down the sharp contours of his back, even as my legs wrap around his waist to take him deeper. I have no idea what I’m doing any more, only that I need him everywhere all at once.

“Say it again,” he whispers in my ear, voice so low and husky the muscles in my core twitch. He hasn’t moved an inch, like he’s letting me adjust to the sheer size of him, and I am grateful for it but it’s also the worst kind of torture because I need more.

“Please?” he continues, lips pressing a lingering kiss beneath my ear. “Sounds so pretty coming from your lips.”

It’s just a word, and I’ll say anything to get him to start moving. “Please,” I brush my nose along the side of his throat, taking in the full, rich scent of him. “Need you, mate.”

His movements are impossibly slow for someone who claims we have to leave in half an hour, the drag of his hips as he slides out of me an even worse torture than him not moving because I can feel every empty space inside me.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and I think my eyes might actually roll back into my skull as he slides back in a little more forcefully this time, his lips meeting mine as he rocks down to meet me. 

My whole body chases him, hips rolling to match his thrusts, nails still sliding down his back. There is no beginning and end to us, just the motion of our bodies and the pleasure that licks its way so intensely up my spine I think it might rip right out of my skin if it’s not released soon.

“Rhys.” He keeps hitting a spot inside me that makes stars spin across my vision and I’m all too aware that I’m babbling nonsense as I lose myself beneath him, but I’m too far gone to notice the tears that slip from my eyes from the overstimulation until he reaches out to brush them away. 

“Do I need to stop?”

I’d rather gouge out my own eyes!

I’d sooner crawl across hot coals then ask him to stop.

“No!” It comes out like a squeak, my voice cracking and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more vulnerable than I do right now. “Please don’t stop!”

His lips brush my damp cheeks, his motions slowing, and my heart clenches in my chest. We’re too vulnerable again. This is just supposed to be sex, just scratching an itch, I’m not supposed to feel anything, but when he looks at me like he is now, like I’m something worthwhile, I feel my heart stutter in my chest. I want more of that too.

“I’m not hurting you?” He asks. 

“No,” I assure. “Feels good. So good.”

His lips find mine in a gentle kiss. “You’ll tell me if it doesn’t.” Not a question, but a demand. 

I nod as I thread my fingers through his hair and kiss him again, body arching into his next thrust. Pleasure licks white hot up my spine and I’d squeeze my eyes shut and fall into it if the sight of him above me wasn’t such a spectacular one. His wings flare out behind him, filling the tent, dark hair sweat dampened and tousled from my fingertips, lazily falling across his forehead. The muscles in his arms and shoulder ripple as he holds himself upright just enough to not crush me with the full weight of him, but when he rocks into me again I arch my back so our chests brush, just to get another feel of his warm skin on mine. He’s every bit a dark angel above me and I don’t know if I want to trace the patterns of his wings or keep running my nails down his back until I’m familiar with every ridge and plane more.

I want this to last forever. Dangerous territory, I know, but I am too blissed out to care. He’s good at this. Good at making me feel good. I’ve never been with a male this attentive to my body; I’m convinced it's an experience more addictive than any drug. 

He slides a hand between my legs, deft fingers finding my clit. “Later, when the wards are settled, I’ll take my time with you, see what other pretty noises I can drag out of you.”

I’m pretty sure the noise I just made at the circular motion of his fingers and the driving pace of his cock is as lewd as I can get, but I also thought I was more in control of this situation than I truly am, so who’s to say?

“But right now,” he purrs in my ear. “Right now I want you to cum for me.” Each word is punctuated with a thrust of his hips.

And who am I to deny him when he speaks like that? When his hands and body move inside me like that? One more thrust and an expert flick of his fingers and I’m gone, careening over the edge so fast I scream.

He follows right after me, spilling so hot and heavy inside me I can feel some of his release dripping out between my legs.

Fuck. For all my plans to ruin his life, he very well might just ruin any other male for me in the process. 

Even worse, I’m here driven by this aching need to be filled and even though he’s finished, he still peppers feather light kisses over my neck and jaw as he slides out. He’s impossibly gentle as he rolls both of us onto our sides, his large hands soothing down my back as he tucks me beneath his chin, holding me tight as I come down from this new high.

My heart aches like it’s a separate, living, breathing thing outside of my head and all its plans for revenge. 

Damn him!

“Are you ok?” He rasps, still catching his breath.

I let myself listen to my heart for a moment, burying my nose in the crook of his neck and letting my eyes fall shut. I cannot remember a time I’ve ever felt this content. “Perfect.”

One of his wings settles over us like a blanket, creating a little cocoon of warmth as the heat that had consumed me starts to finally fade.

He kisses the top of my head, hands still tracing patterns in my skin.

“Your wings are a lot lighter than they look,” I murmur into his shoulder. I should move, should pull away and put as much distance between us before my heart gets any more ideas about what has to happen here, but my body refuses to.

“We don’t typically let people close enough to realize how delicate they are,” he admits. “The right cut can make it damn near impossible to ever fly again, we are trained as children to protect them at all costs.”

The urge to touch them is damn near overwhelming, so I run my fingers over his tattoos instead. “So why do you need horses if you can just fly?”

“My people did the most damage to Hybern’s armies in the War,” he explains, stretching his wings out and settling them again. “The Night Court’s aerial forces were unmatched, until he got his hands on the Cauldron and blasted most of us out of the sky. After his victory, he used the Cauldron’s power to create a barrier in the sky. Fly too close and it zaps you with enough energy to fry your wings right off your back.”

I shutter at the thought. 

“It’s high enough that we can glide, but never enough space to really fly. We still train our fighters, here in the canyon, but save for a few elders, there’s no one here who’s ever been able to follow the siren call of the wind and really fly.”

“Not even you?” I tilt my head back to look at him and he places a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

“I’m not that old!” He returns. 

“That must be hard,” I muse.

Rhysand finally unfurls himself from around me and sits up. At this angle I can see all the scratch marks I left on his skin, but beneath them is a network of scars over the same swirling tattoos on his chest and arms. 

“I dream of a day it’s not like this,” he says as he leans over the edge of the bed to find wherever he tossed his pants. “A day where we’re all free.”

I stretch my stiff muscles. It’s a pretty dream, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s all it’ll ever be. No one has ever beaten Amarantha, let alone Hybern. 

“Are you the only one fighting Amarantha?” Knowing who his allies are might be useful information. I have to keep telling myself that’s what I’m here for, that I need to keep asking the right questions when the opportunity presents itself. 

“For now,” he returns as he pulls his pants on and climbs from the bed. 

A moment later, he returns with a damp towel and grabs me by the ankle and drags me to the edge of the bed to clean up the mess he made between my legs. “I had some clothes sent over for you.”

His hands are nothing but gentle as he cleans me up, no teasing or amusement, like he might really just care about getting me cleaned up and not getting anything in return for it. This time, my whole body freezes at the contact; I don’t know what to do with this. There is no purpose here, no goal to be reached with this kind of touching. 

“Maybe while we’re out you can find some way for me to pay you back for them,” I say instinctively. It’s habitual; no one gives anyone anything for free.

But he’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. “They’re a gift.”

I’m gonna start clawing at my skin! He has to stop this! I need him to show me who he really is, because this version of him is starting to freak me out. He’s not supposed to be anything like this! 

He slides an arm around my waist and lifts me onto my feet. “What kind of mate would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

My hands might actually be shaking. My legs certainly are, but that’s a matter of what we’d just done and not the unease that swirls itself around in circles in my stomach. “But you barely know me.”

“I know enough,” he assures. 

A flick of his wrist and a new pair of clothes appears in his hands, including a new set of boots. “I hope they fit, I made a guess of your measurements. We can get you fitted better when we return in a couple days.”

I take them numbly, my head still spinning. None of this is how I anticipated this going. “Thank you.”

“You were gonna catch your death in your old ones,” he says as he moves away to let me change. 

My gaze lands on my old boots by the edge of the bed, the holes I’d worn into them from years of use painfully visible. I’d asked Tam for months to help me get new ones, he’d always said I hadn’t done enough to earn them.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I hurry into the dark pants and matching sweater. They’re both heavy and warm, if not a little too long. I have to roll up the sleeves on the sweater and the hem of the pants to keep them off the ground, but they’re both in one, solid piece-- save for the slits in the arms of the sweater, baring that fresh swatch of ink across my bicep--keeping the chill out. And the boots have fur! I could have climbed back into my old clothes and still been warmer with just these boots alone. 

Rhys comes back to my side a moment later, holding a sheath and a dagger as long as my forearm. “I’m gonna assume you know how to use one of these?”

My mother had taught me the weak points to aim for, had secretly shown me how to hold my wrist and step into a thrust. My father would have left me defenseless otherwise, and neither my mom or I had ever mentioned how many times those simple lessons had saved my life. But I would never say I had formal training. I was not allowed to train with the males. I only knew how to shoot a bow out of necessity and my own secret efforts of watching other people do it. 

“Well enough.”

He frowns at that. Taking the dagger by the blade, he holds it out to me, watching with rapt attention the way my fingers wrap around the hilt. The frown doesn’t leave until his hand covers mine, adjusting the grip, then his free hand bends my arm at the elbow, showing me a position I’ve held a thousand times, but he pushes his weight against me, testing the grip.

“Good.” His hand comes to my wrist and brings the blade to the left side of his chest. “Here if they’re not wearing armor, right between the fourth and fifth rib.” Another quick pull and he has the blade between the gap where his chest piece meets his shoulder. “Under the armpit if they are wearing armor. If you can’t get that angle…” the last stop of the blade is at his throat.

“I did try this on you,” I remind.

The frown finally turns into a grin. “I haven’t forgotten, Darling, but it never hurts to make sure.”

He slides the blade effortlessly from my hand, and before I can ask him what he’s doing, he’s kneeling at my feet and sliding the straps for the baldric around my thigh. It’s not even the casual intimacy of the action that has my brain short circuiting, but the fact that Death Incarnate is on his knees for me that makes all rational thought fly from my head.

“It’s not too tight?” He asks.

“No, it’s good,” I mutter.

His hands slide up my thighs, holding my hips as he tilts his head back to look at me. “Do you like the sight of me kneeling before you, mate?”

My treacherous heart thunders in my ears. “Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, heat already pooling between my legs again, as if he hadn’t just been inside me.

He gives my hips a little squeeze before standing. “Something to try another time, I think.” Rhysand leans in, lips brushing the shell of my ear before his full lips press a lingering kiss against my jaw. “I think I’d very much like to watch you fall apart on my tongue from that position.”

It is an effort to swallow. An effort not to grab him for another kiss, pull him back into the bed and back on top of me. It’s like the last time didn’t happen five minutes ago, it might as well have been days ago. My blood is starting to feel like it’s on fire again and I can’t seem to get a handle on it like I usually do. 

A cough in the doorway spares me from acting on my newfound impulses. It’s Cassian, smirking in the doorway, his long hair pulled back away from his face. His own fighting leathers gleam with a new polish, a giant broadsword sheathed between his massive wings. I shiver at the sight of him; these are the Illyrians from our stories. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” he says with a smirk. 

“You say that as if we didn’t use to bed females in the same tent when we were younger,” Rhysand returns. 

I glance back and forth between them. It’s not unheard of, especially when sleeping spaces are tight, but the thought of having an audience for what we’d just done makes me clench my thighs together. I never thought I’d be much of an exhibitionist, but I also came on this male’s hand in a room full of people not that long ago either.

Cassian smirks like he knows what I’m thinking of, hazel eyes roaming over me in my new clothes. “Shared a few too, if I recall.”

Rhys flashes his teeth at him, a growl rumbling through his chest. “Choose those next words carefully!” Shadows drift from his shoulders, slithering out from underneath his wings. 

But Cassian doesn’t balk, he laughs. “Mating bond chafing a bit?”

Rhysand curses something in Illyrian at him as he goes to one of the chests and starts rifling around. “Did you bring what I asked for or are you just here to be a pain in my ass, like usual?”

Cassian holds out what looks like a twin chest piece to theirs, only smaller. “Both.”

Rhysand finishes pulling things out of the chest and snatches it from him. “Horses ready?”

“Saddled and waiting. Most of the men too.”

“Good. We’ll be out in a minute.” Rhysand says in dismal.

Cassian looks my way and winks, “Only lasting a minute these days, huh?”

A wave of dark, glittering powers hurls Cassian out of the tent so hard I hear the thwack of his body landing in the mud, even though he’s too far away for me to see it. 

“Bastard,” Rhysand snarls, more to himself than anyone, as he stalks back over to me.

“They’re not fighting leathers, but they’ll be an extra layer of protection, just in case,” his tone immediately softens, shadows retreating as he steps back into my space to strap me into the chest piece. It’s lightweight and durable, the leather thickest in the front and back, with a lot of ties on either side. Not complete coverage, but coverage enough to save me if someone attacks me with a knife. He laces it for me, taking his time to assure the pieces are all in place. 

“Thank you.” 

Next is my bow and arrows, and as if in apology for the way he’d ripped them off of me last time, he slides the strap over my head and under my arm. Though I don’t miss the way the worn leather strap has been replaced with a new, sturdier one. 

“Didn’t want you to lose these,” he says, fiddling with the belt.

I feel guilty. All these gifts and this obvious affection are starting to press against me like lead weights. I swallow the lump in my throat. “You don’t have to keep giving me things.”

“I’d hardly call basic necessities gifts,” he retorts.

“I haven’t done anything to earn them,” I say, looking anywhere but at him. 

His hand comes to cup my cheek, turning my head back to look at him. “Who told you that you had to?”

The words catch in my throat. I already said too much to Mor yesterday, I don’t need to start running my mouth here and give away too much to Rhysand now. I am here to get information, not give it. “No one,” I mumble.

“No one is going to hurt you,” he says gently. “You can trust me, you know?”

“That’s just how we did things back home,” I say. 

His wings twitch behind him. “Not here.”

I nod and he presses a quick kiss to my forehead. “We should get going.”

Please, before my guilt starts getting so loud that I admit something stupid or lose my nerve. Maybe going on this ride is the safest thing to do. Sleeping with him is starting to feel like it’s getting too many emotions involved. Maybe I made a terrible mistake starting this way instead of another.

---

We ride out with thirty other males. Only three of them bring a companion with them, everybody else is heavily cloaked and armed to the teeth, supplies for several days' journey strapped to their saddlebags. Cassian, Mor and Azriel among them. Rhysand and I, atop his midnight black mount, lead the way back out the canyon, with the others on our flank. The rest follow behind in a somber procession. While the execution and following meal had been boisterous, this feels like everyone is holding their breath, expecting war to be knocking on the wards. 

My body feels full of nervous energy, fingers ticking against my thigh the closer we get to those giant winged statues that guard the pass. It looks even more treacherous in daylight than it had at night, yet these horses are as sure footed now as they were then. 

Rhys rides stiffly behind me, one hand on the reins, the other loose against my waist. He has that star flecked cloak on again, the long folds of fur lined fabric enough to keep both of us warm. I’d almost forgotten about it until he’d slid back into it right before we mounted. 

The scent of overripe fruit reaches us as we draw closer to the edge of wards, and we pause briefly here to let a scout pass ahead of us. Only when the rider returns do we all pass through, the heavy press of power making my hair stand on end until it's once again sealed shut behind us. It is strange to be outside of it now. I am used to always moving, never planting roots because I had always been told no such places existed after the War, but now that I’ve had a taste, I strangely miss it. 

If the others feel the same, they don’t say so. We continue to ride for hours in silence, until we finally come out of the canyon into the grassy plain beyond the Mountain Regions. When the path is no longer narrow, the procession fans out around us, the sound of shifting hooves and riders no longer an echo in the open space.

“I half expected an army,” Cassian admits to our left. Mor rides with him, her own cloak shrouding her face, but there are wisps of blonde hair peeking out from underneath the cowl.

I feel rather than see Rhysand shifting around behind me as he looks around. “Split off. Take half the men and strengthen the wards to the left. The rest will handle the right.”

“Last attack came from the north, she won’t be foolish enough to use the same approach twice,” Azriel cautions. 

“So be prepared,” Rhysand says to Cassian. “Half your group on lookout, other half on repairs. I don’t want any gaps.”

Cassian nods, his horse dancing beneath him in response to his own nervous energy. “We can do it, but I think it’s smarter to stick together.”

“Keep a scout ready, check in at dusk and again at dawn. If we need to regroup we will. I’d rather not leave multiple blind spots if we can help it.”

Cassian barks out the orders and half the men split off without a word, leaving the rest of us standing there, monitoring the grass until they pass out of sight. Rhysand waits, mount turned towards where they disappeared around a bend, following the base of the mountain, to ensure there is no sound of scuffle before leading us the opposite direction. 

“How do you repair a ward?” I ask as he guides the horse to the base of this side of the mountain. I can’t feel the wards here like I could in the canyon; I’m not even sure they’re intact here.  

“Think of it like weaving a tapestry,” he explains, the hand around my waist leaving so he can stretch out his arm. Where his gloved hands should meet air, I see the faintest ripple, like he brushed a very transparent curtain. “You have to weave all the strands together in the correct pattern and order to make a cohesive picture. Sometimes, the thread gets tangled, or frayed, and you have to pluck out the thread and start over.”

“But you use magic instead of thread?”

A glitter of stars trails from his fingertips, dancing and swirling in the air like they might braid themselves together. “Yes. My ancestors used a ward stone in the heart of the mountains as a cornerstone, then used their magic to pull its powers out and form a hedge of sorts.”

A ward stone. 

Was that something I could steal? Or break maybe?

“I thought Hybern used the Cauldron to destroy such things?” I can’t sound too eager, but I’m finally getting somewhere and I can’t waste this opportunity. 

“Not all of them,” Rhysand explains. “There are a few in existence that were buried or were hidden from his sight.”

“And they’re powerful enough to shield a whole region?” If so, it’s probably not something I can move out of here, but maybe it can be damaged. Its very existence gives me options. Tamlin would kill to even know Rhysand was using one.

“With regular maintenance,” he says. “That’s why we regularly do stuff like this.”

“Will we get to see it?”

His shadows drift off him, poking at the rippling power that makes up the shield, looking for weak spots. “No, not for this.”

I try not to let my disappointment show. At least the knowledge of how it works is something profitable to take back, I draw comfort in that, but still, the doubt that it’s not enough to let me get back home gnaws at me. I need more. I need enough to have this ink on my arm forgiven. 

“Does it hurt you?” I ask. “To use this much power?”

“It’s taxing, but it’s not painful,” he assures. “Not usually anyway. If there is a fight to be had, then maybe the strain of both things at once would cause some discomfort.”

I put a hand on his thigh, “Good.” To my dismay, I think I actually mean it.

----

We make it a fourth of the way around the mountain before we stop to make camp for the night. By this time, the sun has long since set. Nighttime is a sight to behold out here, the sea of stars and full moon are enough to make me wonder how much better it could have possibly looked if the Night Court had remained intact after the War. 

I make myself useful and set up the tent from the supplies Rhysand packed while he finishes dolling out guard duty to the men. At least I am not totally useless. I even manage to get the mat for us to sleep on all set up by the time he comes back, the single layer of fur a harsh contrast to the amount that adorns his bed, but it’ll do. It’s still more comfortable than what I had waiting for me back in the Grasslands. 

He looks tired by the time he kicks off his boots, a bit of red streaking his eyes from the strain of weaving the wards for hours on end. He hadn’t lied about it being taxing then.

Azriel lets himself into the tent a moment later. “Cass checked in. Nothing amiss on their end. Wards are looking good, Mor got nearly as far as we did before they made camp.”

“Good,” Rhysand rolls his shoulders and neck, wings flaring behind him as best he can in the confines of this much smaller tent. Both he and Azriel have to stoop when they stand. “Guard duties have been assigned, everything looks normal so far.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Azriel replies, his gaze flicking momentarily to me. “We’ll cross over where we ran into them last time. Even knowing they won’t strike the same way twice is enough to put me on edge.”

“You’re always on edge, Az,” Rhysand replies. “You should sleep.”

Azriel huffs and disappears as quickly as he’d come, a bit of shadow trailing after him. 

With camp set up, there’s not much left to do other than dole out some of the rations that had been packed and settle in for the night, but I do wish I’d had anything to pack that would have given me something to do with my hands. Going to bed with threats knocking on our door has never been anything new, but it never gets any easier either. 

“Do you think we’ll run into Amarantha’s men again?” I ask as I split some bread, hard cheese, and dried meat between the two of us. 

He produces what I initially thought to be a waterskin from the supplies, but it turns out to be wine instead, a bit of the red liquid dribbling down his chin as he takes a long drink. It has been a long day, riding has not lessened the soreness in my muscles from our earlier escapades, if anything I should want to stretch out on the mat and sleep for a very long time. Instead, the path that little bead of wine makes down his chin makes me want to climb into his lap and lick it away. It is an effort to focus on the food in my hands and eat instead. We got a little too vulnerable last time, I need to be better about how and when I offer up my body if I want to make it out of this with some semblance of my soul intact.

“She is vindictive, but she is patient,” he muses, leaning back on his elbows. “If not now, then in a few weeks. She will not take our little gift kindly.”

“Why poke her at all?” I blurt. “You have all this, why risk it?”

“This is a fraction of what we used to be,” he says, but his eyes grow distant, like he’s looking somewhere far, far away. “And she and I have unfinished business, I will not be satisfied until I have her head on a pike.”

I’m glad he is too distracted to see the shiver that works its way up my spine. It’s a good reminder of who he really is. I will need it to keep my wits about me. 

I take a bite of bread, weighing my options. I should ask what kind of business would prompt such a response, but that conversation with Mor stops me. He’d loved someone else and she was gone, given what I knew of him, that seemed like enough, and I didn’t have it in me to talk to him about lost loves. That was too vulnerable. 

He gives himself a little shake after a few minutes, clearing whatever cloud was in his head, and takes another long drink of wine before passing it over to me. I should stay as far away from the wine as I am his body to preserve some semblance of self-control, but I can’t think up a good excuse to not if he were to ask why. There are too many things in my head tonight. One sip can’t be too bad, right? 

The warmth that spreads through me is addictive, helps the stale bread and the guilt that’s been sitting in my chest all day go down easier. The next sip is more of a very long drink, until the bitterness of the grapes doesn’t taste so terrible.

Silence stretches out between us, nothing but the sounds of our chewing and the quiet passing back and forth of the wineskin. There’s only a single lantern for light, swaying in the breeze of the open tent door. Beyond us, the camp rustles as it gets ready to sleep, but someone in the distance is singing a song in Illyrian.

“Can I ask you a question?” Rhysand asks a moment later, the silence stretching between us bordering on uncomfortable now.

It’s my turn to have the wineskin again and it freezes halfway to my lips. Shit!

I force my voice to be even as I say, “I’ve been asking you questions all day, it’s only fair.”

He sits up, dusting some crumbs off his chest. “How trained are your powers?”

I don’t know what question I thought he was going to ask, but it was most certainly not that. “There’s…” I flex my fingers, thinking of the way Tam’s claws slide in and out at will. I’d only ever summoned my own twice. The first was an accident, when I was twelve or thirteen. I’d had my first cycle and my hormones were all over the place, I’d been trying to scrub a persistent blood stain out of my skirts and when it wouldn’t come out I’d gotten so pissed off the claws had come out to tear the fabric to ribbons. The second… the second had been the night my parents died. “There’s not enough to train.”

Which makes this whole mate thing make even less sense, because how am I supposed to be this male’s equal? If he sits still for too long darkness starts leaking out his skin like it’s trying to escape the confines of his body. Sometimes if he steps down too hard I can feel the power of him rattle the earth. He is called Death Incarnate for a reason. And I somehow barely have enough for a few party tricks. 

He inclines his head to study me as I take another long drink of wine. My head is starting to feel a little fuzzy with how much I’ve drank and I pass the skin back over before I lose my last shred of self-control.

“But your mother’s power surpassed your father’s and it certainly didn’t pass to Tamlin,” he muses. 

The warmth of the wine leaves me in a rush, only the cold mountain air in its place. He’s wrong. Wrong about their power levels, wrong about Tam, wrong for even mentioning them in the first place when their blood is on his hands. 

“We never talked about it,” I grind out through my teeth. There are too many things on my tongue and I feel my control quickly spiraling out of reach. “And nothing ever manifested.” 

“I only ask because I haven’t seen you expel any magic, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. It’s fine if you don’t have any, as long as you’re not hurting yourself trying to hold it in, is all I meant.”

I shiver, arms wrapping around myself as a gust of wind whips through the tent in a ghostly howl. “It can hurt?” 

“It can drive you mad,” he replies, standing and offering me his hand. 

My legs wobble a bit, the room spinning and he keeps a hand on my waist to steady me. Only when he’s sure my footing is sure does he let go enough to help me untie my chestplate. I should have drank a lot less than I had.

We climb silently onto the mat, nestled under the fur, and I fully expect to go back to sleeping back to back now that our moment of horniness has passed, but he wraps himself around me, wing once again draped over us. It’s like our own little pocket of warmth.

“My mother used to say the trees talked to her,” I whisper, his words clinging to me as tightly as he is now. It’s probably the wine, but I can’t get the nagging feeling that I’m seeing the wrong picture as memory after memory drags itself to the surface. My mother had bouts where she wouldn’t talk for weeks, just staring off into the distance. I remember being a kid, holding her hands and talking for hours, making up stories like the ones she’d tell me at night, trying to get a reaction out of her. 

“She’d wander off into the woods, rambling about it and I…”  Those bouts always ended with her having slipped out of the tent, searching for things she insisted were calling to her. “I learned to track by following her footprints and helping her get home.” She never remembered leaving. And I’d get her back home, helping clean the mud and leaves out of her hair, braiding it out of her way and making her presentable before my father returned to see her missing. There came a point where I’d stopped sleeping to make sure I could catch her before she got too far out.

“I’m sorry,” he says gently, warm breath ghosting over my neck.

I shiver despite the heat of him. My father couldn’t have known, right? He would have helped her if had thought it was her own magic not being released. He wasn’t that cruel.

He wasn’t!

“I know a lot of males who chase after power so they can breed it in their sons,” he continues.

I want to put my hands over my ears. 

I want my lungs to stop feeling like they might cave in on themselves; my heart to stop feeling like it might just beat right out my chest. He. Is. Wrong. He has to be!

“My father was like that too,” he admits. 

I don’t know where the words come from, or why my mouth moves without me thinking about it. “I guess we’re all just products of our fathers.”

I’m prepared for the consequences of such a truth, but I’m definitely not ready for him to say, “Guess it’s a good thing they killed each other then.”

-----------

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[moonbaby26]

Title: The Gift

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Viola/Violet (mentioned)

Warnings/Notes: My belated Doffy birthday oneshot 😅! Reader is female coded, but no explicit gender/pronouns are referenced (unless I missed one). Language. Age difference. Dubious consent. Male ejaculation, and some actual fluff this time?

Synopsis: Being such a vain and self-centric man, one would expect elaborate public birthday celebrations for Dressrosa’s king. But as the newest member of Doflamingo’s crew, you’re surprised to find that this isn’t the case. And you don’t think that’s right. So you resolve to give him a very personal gift anyway, to quite unforeseen (at least to you) results.

Fic Masterlist

———————————

Doflamingo didn’t celebrate his birthday any longer.

This tidbit of information about your new master was dropped so casually one afternoon as you and Baby 5 worked together to clean blood and viscera off of the stonework. 

The two of you were together in some dark room the Donquixote captain didn’t want the normal palace maids to venture into. A special interrogation space you now dumped another bucket of soapy water over.

It wasn’t your place to ask any questions though. You had only lived in Dressrosa for the last six months. 

You were the payment Doflamingo had taken when your previous owner couldn’t cough up enough for a weapons debt in time.

Yes, your last master had likely ended up in a room much like this one. Because you’d never seen that abusive old man ever again. 

But you were a logia user. And that qualification had seemed good enough for Doflamingo to allow you this new chance within his own ranks instead.

So you did not complain. And you did not step out of line. You only followed orders just as faithfully as all these pirates that had lived with him years before you had. 

But you still wondered.

You wondered why it bothered you that no one was supposed to acknowledge the day their leader had been born.

The one day that should really be his.

You were still so skeptical of this, that you even paid more attention to the goings on in town over the next week. Looking for any hint of even the most subtle celebration plans or decorations for the people’s king.

But there were none.

And within the palace, Giolla was who you most often were assigned to and shadowed. When you realized even she showed no interest in making artwork for the king’s upcoming cumpleaños as they called it here, that was when you finally knew they must be serious.

His birthday had been removed from all outward recognition, both within his own kingdom and private “family”.

It was such an odd notion, for how extravagant of a man Doflamingo seemed to be.

But you supposed you didn’t really know him either. In the entire six months you’d lived within his home, you didn’t think you’d had more than a few words directed at you from his grinning lips. And they had only ever been emotionless commands.

Ones you dutifully followed.

And you were okay with this arrangement. Because you had been purchased fairly. Your life preserved in exchange for being little more than a warm blooded machine. Simply another tool among all his others.

Yet you still kept thinking about him and this erasure of his birth. It felt so wrong to you.

Somehow even more wrong than the toys you sometimes heard crying in the underground port after midnight, or the blood you and Baby 5 cleaned up again and again from those equally hidden dungeons.

You lay awake in your room for hours actually, on the night before his birthday, until an idea finally came to you.

You had a need to do something about your feelings. You were very thankful to have a roof over your head after all. You were thankful to have a reliable supply of food, and you were thankful to be in the aura of this warlord’s protection in the violent New World.

It was a compulsion by that point really, to repay him in even some small way.

So you sat up in your bed and got to work then and there, inspired just the way you supposed Giolla always spoke of being. 

Your hands hardened as you summoned your power, yet also becoming fully transparent all at once while your fingers still moved nimbly.

You were a human made of glass.

Clear and flawless as your creation began to ebb from your own fingertips.

You could shape and alter it as easily as if it were molten. But you didn’t need heat to do this. Everything was still a part of you as you shaped one flower petal after another.

It became a large rose in full bloom. No stem, but the base of the flower was as wide as both of your palms put together soon enough. The candlelight’s glow in your room played through those rippling surfaces, casting prismatic reflections in every direction as you smiled.

But it still wasn’t special enough then. It wasn’t personal enough as you felt it needed a second element. 

Which wasn’t easy. It took you multiple attempts actually as you tried to shape a bird nestled within this blooming rose. 

A flamingo of course. But the neck was so slender, it kept drooping before you could harden it properly. And if you made it too hard, you were afraid it would hold tension and fracture before long.

So you compromised.

You let that flamingo rest its head, smoothing it with your still clear fingertips as you curved the neck down for the bird to lay its beak against its wing.

As if it were asleep. An elegant flamingo, content and peaceful in the bloom of a rose. The final glass was pristine in its clarity of course, with all the facets you’d created catching the light in such a way that it fully sparkled while you cupped it in your hands with admiration.

You loved it.

And the next day when you went into Doflamingo’s empty office as part of your regular task of filing his completed contracts for him, you left this gift on his desk while you took that stack of paperwork in exchange.

Yet you put no note with your gift. You didn’t even leave it in the center of his desk like a focal point, as you would never be that brazen or prideful.

No, you simply left it to the side. It could be little more than an ornate paper weight for all it mattered. He could discard it if he chose to.

And that would be alright. A gift was the receiver’s to do with as they wished after all.

But at least you now knew he would have a present. He would not be ignored on his own day.

And that thought made you very happy.

But hours passed easily within his palace. Neither Giolla, nor Trebol had any further special instructions for you that day. So by the time the sun had set again, you were alone once more in your bed.

Reading by candlelight as you often did. The palace library was available to any of the Donquixote crew, and its contents occupied you well in any downtime you found.

The story for tonight was interesting too, but not so different than those you’d read before. Just another handsome protagonist, and his rather oblivious lover to be.

It was quite predictable, but still enough to make you giggle once the two characters finally found themselves alone.

You knew exactly where this was going.

And you had been turning those pages just a bit faster in that anticipation before your small transponder snail suddenly awakened to startle you.

Of course you still answered immediately, expecting a late night order. Perhaps a request to join your fellow lower ranks in the underground harbor. Sometimes the pirates there got rowdy, trying to back out of prior agreements. But you were much less destructive than Trebol when restraining them.

“Yes?” You had answered in your calm way, ready for almost anything.

“Come to my office. Now.”

Anything but that as the young master’s impatient tone filled your ears instead.

“Yes, sir.” You said anyway.

The snail clicked, disconnecting from his side first as you dropped your book and practically leapt from the bed.

No one kept Doflamingo waiting.

So much so that you didn’t bother with shoes, or even changing.

You were barefoot, just in a nightgown that fluttered to your knees as you pulled a jacket on over it and hurried out and down the hall.

Your master’s office was on a higher floor. Always like ascending to where you would never truly belong as your feet took the staircase two steps at a time.

But there was no one else in the dark palace corridors. Nothing to speak of panic or a rallying of the troops at all to protect the island.

Yet as you pulled down on the golden door handles to open those carved double doors that led to his workspace, you had still expected to see more of the Donquixote crew.

Never once had you been here alone with him.

Until tonight.

“Close the doors.” He ordered.

And you still did so with no hesitation, then walking towards Doflamingo’s desk with your hands clasped subserviently in front of you below your waist.

You didn’t even ask for an explanation. You simply looked at him, awaiting further instruction.

But his large chair was pulled farther from his desk than normal. He was slouched back in it with his shirt fully open and oddly wrinkled.

One of his long legs was crossed over the other. But his foot was moving slightly, bouncing a little like letting out tension the rest of his body would not yet portray.

“Did you make this?” Doflamingo asked in such an odd tone, yet immediate and to the point as one of his fingers tapped the desk.

Your eyes finally broke away from him to look down at that glass rose you’d created with the flamingo still resting peacefully within the spread petals.

He had moved it dead center on his desk now.

“Yes, sir.” You answered simply, your voice still soft.

But that was when his posture changed.

“Why?” He asked you as he straightened up in his chair.

And you felt your hands tighten against one another. Yet, you were simple. You didn’t think ahead, or plan and strategize. Everything was only what it was and nothing more.

You always told the truth.

“I wanted to give you a gift. I’m thankful to be allowed to stay here, young master.”

And you saw his facial muscles contort slightly. 

Like he didn’t know what expression to make.

“But today? You chose today to do this…” He sounded strangely unsure. Irritated too, as only one of his large hands easily scooped up that glass artwork that had taken both your palms to carefully hold.

“Yes.” You again answered honestly. “I wanted you to have something even if we aren’t allowed to celebrate.”

His brow furrowed. But you did not see any bulging vein. He wasn’t fully angry, not yet. He didn’t seem to know what to do. 

And perhaps that was the root of this frustration.

“How old are you?” Doflamingo asked suddenly.

“Twenty.” 

He muttered a curse under his breath at this seemingly unpleasant answer. And you saw his leg shift, that movement of his foot getting a little faster.

“Well…hoy tengo cuarenta años. Es demasiado.” He finally told you in return, switching briefly to the native language of this island as he frowned. Like he couldn’t admit this number out loud, to you or himself otherwise.

And his fingers were still moving over your gift, tracing all those edges while he held it.

“I’ve waited hours today…wondering what to do about this.” He said again then. “I even brought Violet in here earlier to try and alleviate it...” And he gestured unabashedly at the messy state of his clothing that you had noticed on first arrival.

But only then as his arm moved did you see the smear of dark lipstick against his rib cage beneath that open shirt.

And that was the very first thing that finally brought a tinge of heat to your face.

“It’s…just a gift, young master.”

“It isn’t.” He corrected you so surely that you lowered your head like a scolded pup.

And you heard the resulting growl which came from that too.

“You’re too damn innocent.” He lamented. “And I’m twice your fucking age now.”

Said as if this was somehow all your fault.

His crossed legs shifted again too, like he was struggling with himself. “You don’t even have a man in town, do you? You just sit alone in your room all the time…doing what exactly?”

“I read.” You felt that coil of embarrassment in your stomach now rising to meet the heat still creeping downward from your face.

But he scoffed, a much crueler noise. “And think about me as you do? Clearly you must.” He held the glass rose up higher then, almost as if it were indisputable evidence in this sudden trial against you.

He was starting to sound genuinely angry now.

“I’m sorry, young master.” You tried.

“You can’t do these things and expect no consequence.” Doflamingo chided you harshly, as if you really were a fool.

A fool that he owned.

“Come here.” He commanded you in that renewed authority as he set your gift back to the center of his desk.

You followed the gesture of his fingers without question. He didn’t even have to use his strings as you walked around his desk to stand before his chair.

“You can’t show me affection and think nothing would come of it…” He warned only briefly. 

And it felt too dangerous to try and apologize further. You were silent as your eyes watched only those red lenses of his sunglasses. 

You did know enough not to dare look away from him now.

“I’m not going to fuck you. But you are going to let me get this feeling out.” He said darkly. “So just be quiet and we’ll be done soon enough. Then you can go back to your paper fantasies instead.”

There was not even an implication of wanting your permission in his mocking words either. He was telling you what was about to happen just before those long legs abruptly uncrossed and you were pulled between them.

And you still gasped as the clothed erection he’d been hiding this entire time now pressed up hard against your bottom in his lap.

He didn’t even give you time to process. He was already thrusting that sharp bulge against your nightgown within moments.

His large hands fisted within that same thin fabric beneath your jacket as he groaned quietly.

You felt him inhale deeply next, taking in your scent as he curved his spine enough to lean down into your smaller frame.

It was like being encapsulated, a monstrous snake constricting itself around a small prey when the smallest flick of wet met the side of your face simultaneously.

Just the very tip of his tongue, only a tiny taste of you before before those large hands tightened on your hips.

Doflamingo pulled you harder against his own, bruising your skin beneath your clothes you were sure while his pace quickened even further.

“You smell so good.” He practically hissed against you. “You’re so soft too…”

His long fingers easily squeezed into your thighs as well, even as he didn’t release your hips.

And you must still be in some sort of shock really. Because somehow you didn’t feel afraid. 

You just let him do it. 

It was his birthday. He was your master.

And you were what he wanted, in this moment at least.

He never lifted your nightgown though. He never opened his pants.

But you could feel his body heat, and his desperation. A shame that outweighed any you should have had.

It was his loneliness. It was his need.

And it was mercy towards you.

Your master was giving you his rarest gift in return.

He could have taken your virginity here and now. He could have shattered you with his haki on only a whim, logia user or not.

Doflamingo was fully in control of you, and honestly just enough in control of himself that he did not truly harm you.

His breath only quickened as time seemed to draw to a standstill for you. It felt both like forever, and not long enough at all.

And still you didn’t feel wronged. 

The humiliation was only his instead, whenever you finally felt him stiffen further, grunting before he shuddered and that new heat blossomed against the underside of your thighs.

You were still sitting tightly on his bulge, and the wetness of his release wicked through those meager layers of fabric so easily.

He’d fully cum on himself within his pants. The king of Dressrosa had done this in a private moment with you, then hugging his arms around your waist as he rested briefly, recovering from that surprisingly heavy orgasm.

“Happy birthday to me…” Doflamingo chuckled despite himself, still sounding a bit overwhelmed in this instance while he gradually came down.

“Happy birthday, young master.” You answered tentatively, almost in a whisper.

But he allowed it now. He even squeezed you a little more. And it didn’t feel fully sexual then. He wanted something to hold onto.

He wanted comfort.

“Thank you.” The Heavenly Demon said to you, the young one who was surely only another of his many pets.

But he meant it.

And maybe by his next cumpleaños he would be able to do more. Maybe by then you would be ready to be more than just the one he wanted both to consume and to hold tonight.

Maybe you’d been the oblivious lover to be all along. 

Regardless, whatever happened now, you wouldn’t be laughing at those characters in the books any longer.

If you’d even be reading them much at all. Because you might have someone else needing all of your free time now.

Someone far more sensitive than he’d ever let on as he kept you in his lap while he reached for your artwork again, moving it back closer to the edge of the desk so it better caught the light from the small chandelier above.

You watched your master smile, his body relaxing fully before he bent down enough again to rest his chin on your shoulder.

This was just another flamingo, resting his head with his newest flower.

——————————

End.

Thank you for reading! 🎂🦩

[physics-of-one-piece]

Dating Doflamingo Headcanons SFW

It isn't his feather coat anymore, it's "our" feather coat now. Whenever he takes it off, it will be gone the next second and you will be cuddled up in it or lying on it or wearing it looking likea little penguin. If you are visiting a snow island, he chuckles at you shivering and puts his coat around you and tucks you into it. "There, that'll keep you warm." and he pats your head - his hand is bigger than your head - as he continues walking.

Carries you on his forearm with his hand on your bum.

You once hid in his coat and won the Hide and Seek because he never thought to look on his back

You wrap your arms around his neck and caress his nape.

When he kisses you, he lifts you up by bending his legs and body to your height, wrapping his arm around your knees and lifting you up to deepen the kiss.

At the end of a busy day, he collapses in the bed and you become the smallest little spoon against the biggest big spoon. He curls all around you, wrapping you up in his long limbs, cradling your head and pulling your face in his chest. He is his own heater, so you're never cold. Dwarfs you, you're not even visible. He treats you like a plushie. Expect to be squished all the way to where his heart is beating. Prepare to be in that position the entire night. While cuddling, he likes to kiss your head, whispers how soft you are.

You sit between the empty space between his spread legs, he likes you there, and he likes you on his thigh, too, leaning your body against his chest.

Loves tickling you, he loves hearing you laugh, and it makes him laugh a lot. Will do it if he sees you're in a bad mood. Made you cry from laughter while tickling you many times.

He always makes sure to make you smile - and that it's for him, nobody else. Jokes 10/10, a romantic guy, always has romantic things to say that make poets feel like amateurs. Will tell everyone how you are the most beautiful human alive. Crocodile has bought earplugs for warlord meetings.

Loves when you kiss his nose, loves lying his head on your lap and asks you to read him books. He falls asleep on your lap a lot. Caress his hair with your fingers and he stretches out like a content cat and smiles peacefully.

Whenever he needs to be away for more than a week he sends you loads of pink roses.

You love taking pictures of him. You took one of him among the sunflowers on the Flower Hill and it is your favourite picture of him.

He's very protective and demands your attention.

He proposes on the Flower Hill or takes you up above Dressrosa on his strings and proposes there.

Once you say yes, you're his forever. Don't forget it.

So. Many. Cuddles.

Sends out his string and grabs your pinky to get your attention.

Buries his face in your breasts, stomach, or between your thighs even when you're dressed.

His fingers wraps around your entire upper thigh with ease, his hand covers 2/3rds of your upper leg.

He either has the most innocent look or the most devilish look when teasing you.

Loves making you blush.

The first time he showed you his eyes, you kissed his eyelids and called him beautiful.

He will be your pillow for falling asleep anywhere in the palace. His chest and stomach make for the perfect pillow. So does his thigh.

How many men have mysteriously disappeared if they flirted with you? Weird that you don't remember them.

Wedding is flamingo-themed.

Baby 5 is already calling dibs on being the aunt of your non-existent child.

Doflamingo will make sure that a child is on the way soon. That's what the honeymoon is for.

That talk about being squished by Doffy with @fanaticsnail inspired me, okay.

[medusapelagia]

14 The betrothal

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Lake), @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: prince and princess ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Hand Kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: omegaverse, Omega Steve Harrington, Alpha Eddie Munson, Beta Robin Buckley, violence, blood and injuries, vomit Words: 1563

If Steve was a proper omega he wouldn't be on that stupid carriage, to be shipped from Loch Nora's Kingdom to Forest Park like an unwanted pack.

A proper omega would honor his family, stay home, cross-stitch animals and flowers, and learn poems and music. But Steve never was a proper omega and after he rejected his last suitor his father told him that he wasted his last opportunity to choose a proper alpha and that he was going to find one willing to take in a rebel omega like him.

Male omegas are a blessing and a curse: they are very rare, so Steve's father was able to ask for a high dowry from whoever wanted to marry him, but there weren't many alphas willing to tie their life to a male omega. 

Steve has heard talking about Forest Park. A lot. And never in a good way.

They have a very bad reputation, but they are rich, so Steve has no doubt that his father got a really good dowry for selling him to those people. Well, not selling, betrothing him.

Thankfully, Robin is coming with him. Moving from one Kingdom to another and being completely alone would have been terrible, at least his beta best friend is trying to make him laugh by making silly comments and distract him from the long journey.

Even if the carriage is big and cozy, spending hours sitting on a carriage isn't that comfortable, and Steve's royal ass is in pain.

He doesn't even have enough space to stretch his long legs because in the carriage with them, there are the two guards King Munson himself sent to escort the future bride.

The guards are heavily armed, as they were expecting something to happen, and Steve isn't totally surprised. After all, Forest Hill has a terrible reputation. Their King was an outlaw before he rebelled and became king by killing everyone and conquering the castle, so Steve isn't really looking forward to moving in the same bed with a notorious assassin. But it’s not his choice anymore.

Savages, that's the kindest word Steve’s mom used to define those people, while what everyone thought but none dared to speak out loud was that King Munson was the new Warlord.

A warlord. Not a high-born, just a man with enough power and money to hire the strongest knight and mercenaries to help him keep his power. And Steve is going to get married to a Warlord’s son, or nephew, he's not really sure. Bloodlines are mixed in their Kingdom and they don't give a fuck about dynasties and the only blood that they care about is the one the blood spit by their enemies.

Steve has heard terrible stories about how cruel and violent those people are. One of Steve's servants has told him that Prince Munson killed his first wife with his own hands because she wasn't too sick to give him a child.

Being a male omega Steve knows he can bear pups, even if his heats are irregular and it's harder for him than for other omegas, but he never thought that the ability to bear a child or not could have been the cause of his premature death.

His scent gets sour and acrid while he thinks about the monster that he's supposed to wed. Maybe he should have been more pliant with his previous suitor. Lord Hagan wasn’t that bad after all. A little bit too presumptuous for Steve’s taste but he doubts he would have had him killed if he wasn’t able to bear a child.

"You ok? Do you want to take a break? Stretch your legs a bit?" Robin proposes, drawing soothing circles with her thumb on Steve's hand.

"Yeah, that would be nice." He confirms, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"No break and no stretching. We are still in hostile territory." One of the guards replies without even looking at Steve.

"Couldn't we stop just for a moment?" Robin insists, "We have been on this stupid carriage for hours!"

But an arrow flying through the window and ending his journey a few inches from her face makes her shut up.

"Stay down!" One guard yells, yanking Steve toward the carriage’s floor so abruptly that he falls badly on his own wrist, spraining it, but he doesn't have time to yelp because the carriage stops in the middle of the woods.

"Stay inside!" The first guard yells, jumping out of the carriage and drawing his sword. For a moment Steve catches a glimpse of a bloodied body staring blankly at him with a long arrow in the one eye socket.

"It's ok. It's ok." Robin tries to soothe him, releasing beta relaxing pheromones, but the other guard stops her, complaining that he can't afford to get relaxed by her pheromones, so Steve and Robin hug each other, trying to hide themselves from the attackers.

"He's here!" Someone yells, kicking the carriage door open, but the second guard is quick to pierce the intruder from side to side, what he wasn't expecting was someone else opening the door on the opposite side and grabbing Steve with no kindness, yanking him by his hair.

Robin screams, reaching out toward Steve, the guard turns his head just for a moment and another attacker takes his chance to stab him in the leg while Robin keeps screaming, but the clenching of the metal armor is so loud that Steve almost can't hear her.

A strong hit on the back of his head makes everything turn a warm black and he loses consciousness.

***

When he opens his eyes, Steve is surprised to find himself resting with his back against a big oak tree. In front of him the bluest lake he ever saw.

He puts down his hand, trying to get up, but immediately desists when a bright pain makes him whimper.

"I would stay put if I were you. Your wrist is sprained and you took a nasty hit to the head. Are you feeling dizzy?"

Steve startles, looking around himself, and finally finds a tall man with dark eyes and a nasty scar on his face staring at him with an amused smile.

His kidnapper!

The omega tries to crawl backward, but the unknown man is right, his wrist hurts too much and he still feels lightheaded.

"I think I'm going to puke…" he mutters, before turning on his side and emptying his stomach on the green grass.

Surprisingly, his kidnapper is quickly at his side, holding his hair out of his face, whispering encouraging words while he holds him to his chest with one arm.

When Steve's body gets limp into the kidnapper's arms, he takes a moment to breathe in his scent.

Embers and earth.

An alpha.

A proper omega should never be left alone with an alpha who's not family!

Steve tries to wriggle out of the stranger's hold, but he gently chuckles and pushes Steve's neck closer to the scent gland on his neck, "You're fine, omega. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm betrothed." He objects in a soft voice, while the alpha pheromones make him pliant and docile.

"That's what you're worried about? your honor?" The unknown alpha chuckles. 

He has a nice laugh, Steve decided in his drugged state of mind, and he smells delicious. No other alpha ever smelled so good to him.

Steve must have said something because a very pleased rumble comes from the alpha's chest.

"You don't smell bad yourself, sweetheart." 

Steve should be ashamed of himself, but the alpha's sturdy body is holding him tight and for the first time in his life he feels safe in an alpha's embrace.

"That's good. Come on, sip some water for me to wash away that bad taste."

The omega prince doesn't really know if the alpha is using his alpha's voice, or if he's already scentdrunk or whatever, but the only thing he wants to do is obey this alpha.

Steve spits a few times to clean his mouth from the horrible taste and then drinks some water, while the alpha keeps holding him tight.

The man’s wearing a beaten armor, stained with blood, and for a moment Steve wonders if he will kill him, but the way he keeps holding him makes him think that he’s affected by Steve’s scent as he is from his.

They aren't left alone for long. When Steve turns his head someone is riding toward them. Too many people.

Steve turns toward the alpha with eyes wide with worry, "You have to go. My future husband will kill you. He's a warlord! He won't be pleased you kidnapped me!"

"Kidnapped?" The alpha asks, staring with confusion at the omega, feeling Steve's head with gentle fingers, "How badly did they hurt you, omega?" he asks worriedly, and this time is Steve's turn to frown in confusion.

“I might not look so but I’m a prince. And I was on my way to wed the Forest Park’s Warlord's son. If they catch you, they’ll kill you.”

Eddie bursts out in a loud laugh, shaking Steve who quietly complains of being jostled by the huge Alpha's body.

"Let me introduce myself," the alpha says, grabbing Steve's uninjured hand and kissing the palm of his hand in the most chivalrous way, "I'm Edward Munson, King Munson's nephew, your betrothal." 

[anomaly-hivemind]

Money for Muff ☆ Dragon! Crocodile x Reader | Kinktober Day 21

Summary: After losing elven paradise, you move to a big city, but actually working sucks. Luckily you can suck for work instead ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯

Word Count: 1084

Tags: finger sucking, blow jobs, slight handjobs, riding, dom/sub dynamics, anal, grinding, gn reader, fantasy au

You used to have a nice life, a good life. Where you lived in peace and harmony with the earth. At least, that was until your forest was destroyed by drought and sandstorms, and your people scattered. So you moved to one of the bigger cities, Rainbase specifically, and gave being a bartender and a waitress a go; after all, elves had a lot of appeal to the other races. 

But you just can’t do it, it fucking sucks! People leer and hit on you all the time and act like they can own you. So you quit and became a full-time sugar baby to a dragon. If your body is gonna be on display, you’ll be damned if you don’t get some money for it. 

So you went to the wizard tower after hours and were matched with Sir Crocodile. A large dragon with dark purple iridescent scales. It was the best decision you ever made. He was often off doing things for his shady crime syndicate or pirate warlord duties, so you relaxed around his casino with all the fancy clothes and jewelry he bought you.

However, he was here today, and it was time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain, which is your relationship. 

You laid out on crocodile’s plush bed, which was a bunch of blankets and pillows and other soft things atop his massive dragon horde of gold and treasure, in your finest silks with the sleeves hanging off your shoulders as you ate off an opulent charcuterie board; you looked at you when you smelled the familiar smell of Crocodile’s cigar smoke. 

“Welcome back,” You smiled before popping a chocolate-covered strawberry into your mouth. He grunted a reply as he hung his fur coat up and made his way beside you. He dipped one of his claws into the melted chocolate, and you immediately licked it off.  

You wrap your lips around his digit and suck on it lightly; his eyes glare down at you as you move your tongue against his finger.  He pushed his large, rough finger deeper into your mouth, and you let out a muffled whine. He pried your mouth open as he ran his finger on your flat tongue. You looked up at him, and he was still staring back at you with keen interest. You knew what was needed of you to do and what was fully expected of you. 

You pushed the charcuterie to the side, needing no instructions on what time it was, as your fingers looped around the waistband of his pants and shimmied them off. Your fingers traced the shiny scales on his legs, moving back to his length.  You pouted a bit, seeing he wasn’t ready for you to take him.

“Me sucking your fingers didn’t excite you in the slightest?” You asked as you walked your finger up his thigh and traced squiggles back down.

“Do I look like some common whore? That may work on some poor virgin sap, but you’re going to work for it,” he replied.

You sighed, teasing his cock by running your fingers up his shaft and tracing around the head.  You wrapped your hands around the top of his member and slowly stroked down his rod all the way to the base.  From the tip, his cock had a purple hue that faded out towards the middle. On the outside, from just under the tip to the base, there were ridges. You tighten your grip and start to stroke him slowly and look up at him expectantly for his reaction. He was nice and hard, but his expression was uninterested at best, and it caused you to let out a slight whine.  

Tentatively, you stick out your tongue and give the tip of his member a little lick. It's timid, barely even connecting with the surface.  He lets out a short, amused huff at your attempt to be teasing. You licked over the slit of his tip, the taste of his salty precum gracing your tastebuds. You moved to kiss and suck on his balls a few times and lick them by sticking your tongue out a little, then licked a long stripe up to the top before taking him into your mouth and gurgling down his dick. You went slow at first, only taking in a few inches so you could swirl your tongue around. 

You rock your head against him as you suck on his dick the best you can with his size. You massage his balls lightly as you drool around him, filling your mouth up with all of him in between your lips.  You kiss every ridge up his shaft as you go back to bobbing your head into him. Crocodile was laying back as you suck on him at your desired pace. You feel him tracing your elf ears leisurely so that you know you have his full attention. 

You took him out your mouth, pressing one last kiss to the tips before straddling him. You slid over his hardness a few times before positioning him and slowly sinking onto his cock. You let out a breath as you eased your way down his length. You hummed in satisfaction as you felt the ridges, one by one, enter your tight hole. 

“Are you just gonna sit there the whole time?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he blew out a bit of fire to light another cigar. He moves to unbutton his shirt and throws his tie to the ground. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I am,” you said as you rolled your hips and began to move. You mewl at the ribbed sensation of his dick. You slowly picked up the pace, and you started to bounce.  He grabs your hips as you tilt your hips up and down on his large length. 

He lets out a groan when you pull almost all the way out your hole before slamming down onto him.  You were bouncing on his long dick until your legs felt like they were going to give up on you. With trembling legs, you pushed through until Crocodile was throbbing inside your rear. You fall back against the large man, feeling dizzy, and this is when he takes over and thrusts up into you.  He fills your ass with his hot dragon jizz; he holds on to you before pulling out of your while grumbling, you were huffing and puffing from the high of pleasure.