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I had a wonderful time at the first session of @thydungeongal's Rolemaster open table last Sunday!
My wood elf lay healer, Halamar, got his face savaged by weasels on the way to the dungeon and almost died. Wearing a helmet instead of a tiara might have prevented that, but his magic doesn't work when his head is obstructed.
10/10 will Rolemaster again.
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DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem
Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.
Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.
Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.
After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.
Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”
“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.
“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.
“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.
“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.
“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”
“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.
Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.
(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#danny phantom#dp x dc prompt#plot bunny#the flash#green lantern#time travel
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NOBLE ARRANGEMENT




synopsis: with a marriage you didn't want and a terrible first impression, you weren't too sure your life with sylus would be peaceful. but what if there was a little nerve loosening component that could help?
warnings: porn with plot, smut, arranged marriage, use of aphrodisiacs, inappropriate use of evol (if you squint), mutual masturbation, oral sex over and lowkey under a table (m! and f! receiving), biting, floor sex, creampie, petnames
wc: 11,6k
a/n: I was rewatching dune prophecy (for the third time) and I felt a little creative. hope you enjoy!

you were a lady.
or so you were raised to be. having been brought up in the high society of the city of linkon, you knew your social purpose amongst others and you also knew you had to make a place for yourself beyond being a delectable, innocent, and poised young woman brandished for the wealthy to negotiate through joining families. you had to be a hunter; an unapproachable entity that was most desired yet most difficult to obtain.
behave appropriately, act well amongst your peers, and also know how to defend yourself against the crude wanderers that lurked within the shadows. it had been made law that every citizen was forbidden from traveling around in the dark of night due to the unsafe nature of the environment. but you were never truly one to follow the rules among others.
that is, until you found yourself fighting for your life against the very creatures the law was created for you to avoid.
your given abilities were useful for you to defend yourself but they were more impactful when partnered with another– a privilege you currently did not have. your attire, bedazzled in jewels and badges representing your awards for the late soiree you had just left, was torn and stained with your own blood and the dirt of the ground.
you had considered that night to be your final celebration of your freedom. though you didn’t really anticipate being attacked by wanderers to be on the palate for your night. your blunting blade in hand trembled as your arms suffered from tremors of stress, pain and exhaustion.
your breathing was ragged and your body ached. had you worn your riding attire, perhaps the battle would have fared more in your favour. you had effectively destroyed more than seven lurking wanderers, the following were stronger and larger than the last. morale was reaching a low, and your energy was not enough to sustain yet another battle without you collapsing.
though if your corpse was to be found, you would wish it was in good condition and not ruffled, so you straightened your form and held your blade as stiffly as you could force your body to. you would not lose your life piously or aimlessly. you were raised to hold a blade like a warrior adorned with her femininity, and you would die as such. after all, a death by the blade would always be better than a marriage to a man orchestrated by your stepfather.
a foreign man, you had heard from his private meetings. a foreigner with a questionable background, having travelled multiple worlds and fought endless battles. the more he conquered, the higher the bounty on his head. the imperial council, from what the gossipers have whispered across the entirety of linkon, has done little to none to control the “beast” or the “relentless conquerer”. though from what you’ve heard their lenience was also due to him allegedly being of noble rank. he ran amok, with his blood red eyes, and hair as white as a ghost’s chilling grasp.
his iron fist ran a vast network of crows, all known in union as onychinus. like a marbled table spreading its onyx darkness across the known universe, onychinus stretched its arms into every known and potentially unknown world marking its territory and ensuring its name was remembered. ensuring the name sylus was unforgotten.
the same sylus you were doomed to marry.
you didn’t know which god to pray to for your last battle, not that you were religious to begin with. but it was customary for anyone who held their last blade to send a prayer if they believed they near taking their final breath. so you briefly muttered your gratitudes, your repentances, and your pleas to them all hoping at least one would listen.
the heavy thumps of the wanderer drew painfully near. you solemnly opened your eyes, readjusting your grip and preparing your body to strike. your lips move rapidly as you repeat your words in a broken mantra.
“the blade pierces fear, the blade pierces fear.”
the caws of a crow disrupted your mental flow, distracting you momentarily. in an instant, a gust of darkness rushed past you with a shadow of darkness tinted with red following. the wanderer was blown back by the blunt impact of the shadow, then again. and again. until its arm was separated from its body, then one of its legs, making it topple over.
a flash of darkness rushed past you, assaulting the wanderer in crude blows, a double light trail of red following its movements and soft, white tufts flowing with the wind as the scent of spice flowed into your nostrils. perhaps an energy-based evol? with red eyes and what seemed like white hair– it couldn’t be. no way in hell could it be.
you quickly stumbled back, hearing the crow’s noise grow louder until a loud crackle of energy and a heavy screech silenced the night. the wanderer was obliterated. literally blown into energetic dust as if erased from existence– or rather transformed and reduced to the crystal core before you.
you remembered your father– your biological father– teaching you about protocores, but you had never seen one until now. you reached for it with a shaky, bloody hand, tempted to feel that peculiar thing you’ve always wondered about but a large hand beat you to it, crushing the core to dust with the same energetic shadow.
“best not touch what you don’t understand,” the deep voice sent chills down your spine. you blinked, whipping your head towards the source only to find a gust of falling black feathers in the air. you caught one before the rest blew far from your reach, carefully storing it on your person. a small souvenir wouldn’t hurt especially after the one you wanted was destroyed.
“what i don’t understand?” you scoffed. “says the douche bag that broke the protocore and disappeared!”
you felt like the air got kicked out of your lungs. you deeply exhaled and leaned against the wall of a modiste. it must have been an hour since you left that soiree. your best option would be to sneak into the manor to avoid getting a telling to from your stepfather. but if he did perhaps your mother wouldn’t have to deal with him, especially in her current state.
you pushed yourself to your feet and began to walk back where you came from. you had intended to take a small walk before you returned to your estate on horseback. if you had taken the motorcycle, someone would have noticed. it wasn’t your first time sneaking out after the curfew.
there was a quick route through the crowd of stumbling drunks that also completed their night of drinking and possible fornication, not considering the risk of being both drunk and open to the sharp claws of the nearby wanderers. it was almost like those creatures were attracted to foolishness– though to be fair, you were recently attacked.
you eventually found your horse impatiently waiting for you with a very timid and very pissed off valet.
“i work with keeping cars safe, my lady,” he hissed, roughly handing the reins to you. “cars. not rude horses!”
“perhaps you should have been nicer,” you muttered, fumbling through the holographic screen of your watch. a high pitched ring sounded and echoed onto his wrist. “payment for your hard work, good sir.”
the valet’s mood quickly rose as he fully digested the price paid for his ‘service fee’. he grinned and quickly bowed to you continuously, thanking you for your generosity and asking for you to return with your horse again.
you smiled to yourself as you settled on the saddle, and patted your horse to start moving. the valet was still singing praises to you as the distance between the two of you grew increasingly larger.
“like i’d ever let him touch you again, my sweet.” you crooned, stroking the mane of your horse. you checked the time and hissed in worry. it was the middle of the night and your stepfather would soon be waking up to plot and ponder in his study like he always did.
“hyah!” your horse’s calming trot gradually transitioned into a sprint, carrying you through the late night towards your family home. you’d be there in minutes if you maintained your speed. throughout your travels you couldn’t shake off a weird feeling from your shoulders. as far from the central city as you were, you still felt like you were being watched.
one of the few interesting concepts of these ‘arranged’ marriages was that neither of partners in the wedded couple were allowed to see each other until the day of the wedding. and even those weren’t subtle.
huge celebrations would be held to celebrate unions and from the rumours you’ve heard along with what you’ve seen, the bride and groom would have already met one another at least a month prior at some party or another event where it would be difficult to track who comes in and when.
your case was slightly more discouraging, considering you only knew of the tales laced with potential deceit and fear regarding your husband-to-be. no secret rendezvous, no hidden in plain sight meetups like all the others blabbered on about. you were going to experience the real deal of having your hand and choice in who you marry signed off by a man who wasn’t even your biological father.
and that fury was why you threw a glass of juice at him during your adornment fittings. your wedding dress was far from simple. it was adorned with precious jewels around the neckline and embroidered on your back in the shape of your family’s crest. it was more than transparent that your wedding was considered big if your stepfather was going through the expenses of ensuring your dress was extravagant, inviting multiple politically influential figures, and trying to trap you within the estate until this very day.
it was to ‘maintain your purity’, according to him. though, that was no longer a claim you owned. not since your twentieth birthday. and that was five years ago.
and that doesn’t include the other outrageous comments and demands he made. one of them– and definitely not limited to that– involved him wanting you to give him grandchildren. grandchildren. as if he would have the privilege to ever see them!
he could fuck off and get his grandchildren from the bastard kids he’d abandoned for all you cared.
“you insolent wretch–“ the old man’s hands balled into fists as he slowly rose to his feet. the maids standing on either side of the dining room shifted to the sides of the door to give you passage to run in case he got violent.
“oh, are you going to banish me?” you bitterly chuckled, not minding his impeding anger radiating towards you. you cut through your croissant and relished in every bite as if it were the most important thing in the world. “do remember my mother and i are both more than capable of handling ourselves without you.”
you absentmindedly listened to him draw a deep, heavy breath before sighing and returning to his seat. “your mother is ill.”
the fork and knife in your hands dropped onto the plate, clattering around the room’s silence like the resonating waves of a bullet firing into an empty field. your gaze slowly flickered to him.
“and you aren’t getting any younger.” he scoffed, looking you up and down as if you weren’t known as one of the most beautiful women in high society. “you must serve your purpose to this family–“
“i believe you meant serve your personal interests.” you cut, with venom laced in your voice.
“he means in the interest of this family and you.” a frail voice pulled you out of your angered state and dragged into momentary shock.
your mother, frail and thin, stood at the entrance to your dressing room leaning over on her walking stick. the maid beside her stood like a cowering puppy that had been swatted away. even in her state of weakness, your mother still stood strong– one of the many qualities you inherited from her. her perseverance.
“mother,” you began, slowly rolling your next words over your tongue. “there has to be another way. we are influential and financially affluent enough to handle ourselves–“
“not enough to handle the imperial court.” your mother sighed as she slowly reached you. she raised her eyes to up to you, your form elevated by the pedestal and illuminated by the lights above you. in her eyes it seemed as though she had birthed an angel.
“so beautiful, dear child,” she smiled softly, running her hand up the waistline of your dress until her cold slender fingers held your cheek. “your father would have loved to see you in this. he used to fantasise about walking you down the aisle.”
“he’s not here anymore,” you whispered with cracks of grief slipping through your hardened tone. or was it hatred? hatred for the fact that he left you so young, or that his best friend married your mother almost weeks after? “and he doesn’t deserve to get that chance.” without looking, she knew who you meant.
your mother’s lips quivered into a straight line. she stepped back as her hand cold on your face fell to her side. “best you get your makeup done. you have the audience of the imperial court, the people of linkon, onychinus and that n109 zone. you must represent us well.”
to hear that struck you like an iron bullet. almost as painful as it would have been had you been killed last night. you were starting to wonder if you should have laid your blade to the ground. if being consumed and destroyed by a wanderer was better than giving up your hand to an intergalactic criminal.
“you will not walk by my arm.” you hissed to your stepfather. “i’d rather dig up my father’s corpse than let you get that chance.” you hiked up your gown and stormed off into the adjacent room where the stylists had prepared the makeup for you.
the rest of the process was quiet. the stylists whispered their condolences to you, mentioning tips to help you survive should your life be threatened, some others suggesting your husband-to-be may not be as cruel as rumour says.
your fears were etched into your face so much so that not even the prospect of being away from your family could console it.
the stylists had dispersed for your family priestess to bless your body. the back of your wedding gown was deliberately left open for your family crest to be inscribed onto your skin temporarily. it was an olden tradition that dated back to the ages where evols had not become more common amongst humans and the sole equivalent was sorcery.
some of the wealthier families stemmed from old sorcerers and practitioners of ancestral magic, protecting themselves through their family crests and watchwords. talismans, charms, sigils, spells, runes, the titles would vary amongst cultures but their meaning remained the same.
protection. strength. power. a call to war. they would be granted regardless of the method.
the needle was hot on your flesh and the scent of your skin burning made of your body twitch in discomfort. the priestess, adorned in her traditional garb designed to cover her entire body, tutted at you.
“remain still.” she dragged the hot needle down your spine, finalising the process of your marking. “it will fade in a few hours. but the magic stay intact for as long as you allow it.”
you slowly stretched, feeling the stiffening pain growing on you. you swallowed the reel of profanities threatening to roll of your tongue as you turned to the priestess who was packing away her supplies.
“you were trained to fight wanderers, and honour our family like your predecessors. my predecessors.” you rushed to her and tightly held her hands. your options were slipping out of your hand like sand, making you more desperate than before. “cousin, i know of the faction that trained you– that hunters association. and you know i’m more than capable to be within your rank. take me with you.”
you could almost hear her smiling in pity. she pulled her hands away and slowly stepped back. “my destiny is tied to my position. yours is much different and much more broad.” as she turned her back to you, she placed a small coin on the dressing table. “you will do far better once you marry the dragon concealed as a crow. best of luck, little cousin.”
and alone you remained to float within your thoughts. your destiny was broader than hers? the only thing you could envision was the potential torture you’d go through once the ties were sealed. there was not much left for you to do.
the burning sting of the crest carved onto your back had run cold, a searing tingle burst through your back like gentle sparks indicating the talisman was now active. and always would be.
the bells snapped you out of your daze, ringing away the last of your freedom– or perhaps the last of your captivity. your mother and stepfather walked you to event hall of your mansion, where everyone awaited you. your mother gently kissed your forehead, whispering you luck and reminding you to maintain composure.
the large double doors swung open and melodic music silenced the crowd before you. row by row, they all rose to their feet acknowledging you more than your family behind you. perhaps it was the dress, or that you possibly held the expression of wanting to run. the last person to turn around met your gaze with his crimson eyes.
sylus.
the very sylus, leader of onychinus, fearsome conqueror of planets, was dressed in a fitted white suit stricken with embroidered red crows. a small brooch was pinned on his blazer, the ruby in the centre sparkled under the light. his eyes scanned you briefly before he adjusted his stance, silently reminding you to walk.
you deeply inhaled and stepped forward, deliberately moving as slowly as you could to scan each present guest in the hall. dignitaries from neighbouring planets, a large group of guests dressed in red and black including some wearing masks, distant family members and friends amongst the people of linkon, and most surprisingly four counsellors of the imperial court. you had expected less.
whispers broke out behind you as the insignia etched onto your back was clearly visible. you slowly realised that it wasn’t just a protection charm for you. you carried the burning torch telling your family’s enemies to remain in their place, that you were no longer weaker than them. you decided to assign it as a call to war against your own parents– cursing them for sending you off like this.
that would explain the secret meetings over the last few months. your marriage was a deal to grant your family protection. and judging by the satisfied look on one of the imperial counsellor’s face, they also had a chip in the transaction. control? access to weapons and intel?
but there was nothing that caught your attention more than the man standing patiently before you. for someone so menacing, he looked divine. god-sculpted face and damningly soft lips. his white hair looked as soft as a kitten’s fur. he was so tall and muscular. so beautiful too. you almost released your tension just from the sight of him.
he reached his hand out to help you step onto the pedestal to join him and the officiator. as you stood next to him, while feeling underwhelmingly short despite wearing heels, you caught a whiff of his scent. it was a bit too familiar, almost like burnt herbs and spices.
the officiator droned on about the beauties and responsibilities that came with marriage and how the union would connect our societies more than ever. you watched him glance to your left around the same area where your parents and the imperial counsellors sat. so he was in on the stunt too. maybe not a direct beneficiary, but all rivers end up in the ocean one way or another.
“you’re observant,” the rumbles of his voice sent shivers down your spine. another thing about him that was all too familiar. “good.”
you did not respond to his comment. a young girl skipped towards the two of you, cautiously holding a white cushion holding two rings; both encrusted with rubies and diamonds but one had a larger gem in the centre.
sylus picked the ring with the larger diamond and turned to you. he recited his vows to you, swearing his loyalty and endless care for you, among the many traditional vows a husband would make to his wife. his crimson eyes held firm on yours with a serious stare, meaning every single world– though that was the first time you met.
“you look rather calm to be marrying the douchebag that broke your protocore,” he muttered as his fingers caressed your hand before slipping the encrusted ring on you. the realisation slowly dawned upon you like the rising sun shining directly in your face. “don’t gawk, you’ll make a spectacle.”
you quickly relaxed and took his ring from the bearer to exchange the gesture. “so it was you last night.”
his hand was large and yet well cared for and almost scarless despite his endless battles. you recited your vows, similar to his and returned his gesture, though you couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep. if he did sleep. you slipping the ring onto his finger with more cruelty than intended, inducing a pained smirk from his lips.
“definitely a douchebag.”
the officiator, after another round of praises and ramblings of loyalty and union, asked if anyone opposed the union. you had hoped someone, anyone would say something. but the silence was clear and loud. you raised your head high, concealing the slither of disappointment– no, fury brewing within you.
“then through the powers bestowed upon me, i pronounce thee husband and wife. you may seal the union.”
you could feel your heart sink. you had to kiss him. kiss a renown intergalactic criminal, kiss those soft lips, kiss yourself into a marriage you likely wouldn’t leave by choice. those soft pink lips–
he was smirking at you. smirking! as if he read your mind– can he?
his hands, warm and gentle, cupped your cheeks as he leaned towards you.
“may i?” your words were held in your throat from the shock, making you to nod.
he closed the gap between you and the world temporarily fell silent. his lips were really soft. like, plump and so cushiony. he was gentle with the kiss, almost like you were his lifelong lover whom he relished, and kept it brief but long enough to illicit excited giggles from the young girls within the crowd. as you leaned away, your audience burst into a round of applause, standing to congratulate the sealing of your marriage. the finalisation of a deal made behind the curtains.
it didn’t feel like sparks bursting, not that you expected it to, but it felt surprisingly warm. homely and comfortable. like it was just you and him that mattered. which was a weird feeling. but you didn’t dislike it.
and in the deafening round of applause, in celebration, relief, envy, and pity, your eyes did not leave your stepfather’s. your mind did not leave the thought of screaming until your lungs shrivelled, as if your body wanted to do it itself.
it did not leave the desire to claw the life out of his throat.
“i can kill them all if you’d like,” sylus whispered, glancing down at you as you left the hall to enter another for the reception.
“excuse me?”
“you look unhappy,” he adjusted his tie, giving you a clearer view of his hands. the same hands that took down the wanderer last night. those veiny, strong hands– “about your current… position. so we can kill them all now, obviously excluding the children, then annul the marriage. would you like that?”
“wait, wait,” you paused in your steps. he just offered to murder every guest present then annul your marriage. he was giving you an open door to living your own life. but why? “isn’t this what you wanted? this marriage?”
“it was a necessary agreement,” he slowly spoke, carefully choosing his words. “there were many other ways to conduct a deal with your parents and the imperial court but those would have required more precision and time to handle. however, forcing your hand in something you don’t like isn’t right. i don’t mind ending this union between us once the time requisite passes– it’s a year, isn’t it?”
you were stunned, but still managed to muster a nod. he was so polite and colloquial. he kept a healthy distance from you to not make you too uncomfortable but kept close enough not to catch the suspicious eyes of the guests.
“if that is what you want then by all means,” he smirked as he paused, his right eye glimmered for a second. “though i can’t guarantee you’ll want to by that point.”
sylus’ hand remained on your person throughout the more festive side of the wedding, either on your hand or your shoulder, or your waist while his thumb rubbed up and down the bare skin of your back.
watching him whisper to foreign dignitaries just loud enough for you to hear, shaking hands with members of the imperial court while ensuring you were fully acknowledged with respect, his occasional check-ins with you to ensure you were fine throughout– that wasn’t what you had expected of the fearsome leader of onychinus.
his present ‘crows’ were all introduced to you, pledges and vows were made to your name to serve you with integrity, leaving you slightly confused as they only referred to you by your first name or ‘missus’ or ‘mrs boss’– specifically by two younger men wearing crow-like masks.
“do you not have a last name?” you whispered to sylus as the next group of pitiful, arrogant, or opportunistic guests began to flock towards you after the last.
“is it needed?” you shrugged and sighed, rolling your shoulders back to prepare for the fake smiles coming to you like a hurricane.
“i guess not, especially when you’re a planet conqueror.”
sylus softly hummed and took your hand, briefly walking away from the crowd before you. he guided you towards the entrance of the hall, attracting the attention of the guests you quickly moved past.
“what are you doing?” you hissed, subtly flicking the hand holding yours as you glanced over your shoulder. sylus briefly stopped and gently hooked your arm over his, which was surprisingly rather comfortable.
“i won’t let my wife tire herself out,” he said, glancing down at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “don’t worry about the maggots behind you. they’ll likely assume we are too excited to wait for the night.”
right. you had almost forgotten about that old tradition of consummating marriages. it was an outdated practice by general standards, but some of the wealthier clans and families still found it necessary to lock the marriage in place. you were surprised he believed in that, considering his line of business.
“i’ve never understood the practice honestly,” he tutted. “let couples do as they please at their own pace.” perhaps you were wrong about him.
his crows began to depart one by one, stopping to either nod, give you a look of respect, or even hug you wishing their welcomes to you. the two crow mask wearing young men nudged each other before they handed you a bouquet of blood red roses.
“your first wedding gift from the bossman!” the one with a deeper voice said. you could tell they had meant sylus. you accepted the roses and gave him a questioning side glance.
“would you have preferred receiving it during the ceremony?”
he guided you out of the hall to the main entrance of the estate. a crow– with ruby eyes and adorned with mechanical alterations especially to its wings– landed on sylus’ shoulder as you stepped outside. a very expensive looking luxury car awaited you. along with your parents.
your mother hobbled towards you with her cane, holding her hand out to hold you one last time. you instinctively leaned into her touch and pulled her into your embrace. a wave of emotion washed over you brimming tears in your eyes.
your mother slowly stepped away from you, reluctant to let go of your hand. her sharp gaze averted to sylus who silently watched your stepfather throughout the interaction.
“keep my child safe. and alive.” he only gave her a nod. it became clear that your time was up for your old life. the transfer was complete and what happened next was up to you to brave with courage.
you gave your mother a final hug, requesting for her to take care of herself and that you would visit whenever you got the chance– both of you knew you never would.
as the vehicle pulled out of the main driveway with sylus at the wheel and you on the passenger seat, you heard your stepfather wishing you godspeed. it took more than balling your hands into fists to stop yourself from jumping out of the car and decapitating him with your hands.
the drive was mostly silent. the roof the car was opened to allow the wind to brush through your hair. a few black cars drove by your side for several minutes before branching off to different locations until the two of you were isolated on a road leading to the outskirts of linkon city.
you weren’t too sure on how to begin conversation with him– your… husband. even thinking about it felt unnatural. the car slowly picked up more speed until passing vehicles flashed by in less than a second.
the exhilarating thrill of the speed reminded you of your horse and how you would often go riding at night to experience a sense of thrill to dispel your anger or disappointment. you had gone for a morning ride before preparing for the wedding, too afraid to say goodbye as your horse was the one thing– outside your mother– that you weren’t willing to let go of. like a man with a dog, you and your horse were true companions.
“you did well,” his voice almost made you jump in your seat. you turned to him with a look of slight agitation, watching him concentrate on the road.
“oh sure, you would definitely be proud.” you scoffed, voice heavily laced with sarcasm.
“it’s good that you’re not ignorant,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, making your eye twitch. “keeping an eye on every guest there to understand their intentions behind their presence and discerning between those who cared and those who benefitted from your- our marriage… that was admirably smart.”
your eyes narrowed. he was being painfully meticulous with his words but it also seemed effortless. you felt warmed by the praise, the acknowledgement of you putting your knowledge to good use. the crow cawed at you in what you assumed was anger.
“is this your pet?” you bit at the bird, making it flutter its wings and caw even more. sylus’ grinned as the car drove into a more isolated road.
“mephisto,” he said as the crow hopped off his shoulder and flew ahead of the car. “i don’t consider him as a pet– more like a confidant.”
mephisto cawed at you once more before flying off of sylus’ shoulders to speed ahead towards a large estate. the mansion looked absolutely marvelous, with its aged designs and well maintained grounds. it was slightly larger than your family’s estate with the lengthy driveway, the magnificent fountain at the main entrance and the overall quietness of the space.
a dozen uniformed staff quietly moved boxes of what you recognised as your personal belongings into the mansion through what you assumed was the side entrance, stopping to bow in the presence of their employer.
one of them jogged to the car to greet sylus, not forgetting to acknowledge your presence, and announced that the staff would vacate to their quarters once your belongings were placed inside.
the interior was just as bourgeois as the outside. the main sitting area was dark, red and black with hints of rusted gold to be specific, covered with vintage furniture and collections of rare assets. you recognised a few of the paintings on the walls as prized works of classic creators. sylus was a creator.
towards the couches in the living area sat a bundle of neatly wrapped gifts in varying shapes and sizes. a few of the ones you picked were there as well. one of the many gifts that sat on the pile was the box of alcohol similar to the wine bottle in your hand.
“cherry wine,” sylus appeared next to you in complete silence, making you jump on the spot. “i love the scent of it.”
he poured you a glass and slid it to you before preparing his own. it smelled deliciously sweet to the point where you couldn’t tell if it was actually alcoholic. as the wine coated your lips, the sweetness was the first thing for you to sense. it was like drinking liquid sweets in the most erotic way possible. no wonder the term ‘pop the cherry’ was said when drinking that. the engulfing burn of the alcohol ran down your throat just as you swallowed.
your tolerance for alcohol was reasonably strong– strong enough to have at least three glasses of the wine before you began to act differently. sylus, on the other hand, was already in a bit of a blush. he wasn’t near finished with his first glass.
“i didn’t take you for the type that can’t stomach drinks,” you commented as you poured yourself another glass. something about that intoxicating sweetness just had you thirsting for more. you were heating up under the confines of your wedding dress with it pooling close to your core.
sylus chuckled with a hint of nerve. “i don’t have the tolerance for it,” he admitted as he took another leisurely sniff of the drink. “and my sense of taste is somewhat dull, so i appreciate the smell more than what i consume.” he swirled the crimson beverage in the crystal glass, admiring the gloss of it under the warm lights above you.
he glanced at the ring on your finger. “it looks good on you. i had feared that you would not like it.”
you followed his gaze, watching the light reflect on the crystals making them shine like water under the moonlight.
“and you looked marvellous in that dress, as tattered as it was.” he was talking about the previous night. before you got roughhoused by those wanderers, the dress was rather beautiful and formfitting for you– dashed with gold and black jewels to complement the ruby red colour of your attire. you didn’t think he had noticed.
you could feel his gaze peeling you open layer by layer, increasing the bubbling heat within you. the alcohol must have been quite strong since it was rare for you to get so fuzzy so quickly. he was probably going to ramble more if you didn’t change the subject.
“do you live here?” you asked, turning away to look around the living room. your torso still felt so tight and constricted. “it looks untouched.”
your fingers fumbled to remove your necklace, struggling to get a good grip of the clasp– partially because you were flustered and that you the dress was designed in such a way that you couldn’t vigorously move around.
sylus moved behind you and moved your hands to your sides with an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness. this kindness was still something you were suspicious of. for a conquerer to be so kind to you felt weird.
“it’s a temporary stop before we get to the n109 zone,” he helped you remove your necklace, his fingers slowly travelled up your neck to unclasp it. “we can stay however long you need if you’re not ready to go.”
you instinctively leaned into his touch, feeling the heat of his hand spread across your skin. his patience and care was something you greatly appreciated– so much so that it gradually lowered your guard.
from the wedding to the tedious reception to that very moment, his behaviour went completely against the rumours that spread tainting his name. the same rumours that instilled fear amongst your peers. even when he stepped in to help you in battle the previous night, he wasn’t cruel– not with you at least.
“what were you doing in linkon yesterday?” you asked as sylus placed the necklace on the couch. he took your hand, silently indicating his desire to walk with you.
“confirming a few deals with the hunters association,” the hallway was wide and covered with pillars of withered plants and old paintings. although it looked meticulously clean it was still so void of life. “i needed to maintain my influence with my associates working there. i believe one of them are distantly related to you. she said you have a habit of chasing wanderers.”
then that was what she meant about your destiny. she knew about the deal too. a flash of disappointment in your face caught his ever so watchful eye.
“don’t blame her for this arrangement. she didn’t know better.” he rubbed your hand with his thumb and tugged you into the dining hall, embroidered with expensive carpets, couches and a fireplace on and by the floor, exotic plants on the corners of the large room and large windows overlooking the extensive grounds of the estate, coloured orange from the setting sun.
your skin was painted in a warm gold colour along with his, kissed by the light shining into the dark room. the faint tipsy blush on sylus’ cheeks had gradually darkened as he looked at you, fully taking you in.
the way your dress hugged your body and accentuated your beauty, the soft amount of makeup on your face that amplified your natural appearance, and your relentless energy in how you spoke and moved had set his mind in a bit of a frenzy. even when you gave him that confused look you were just so pretty.
so pretty.
so beautiful.
so attractive.
heat flowed through his veins in rapid flashes, more than he could comprehend. it wasn’t similar to what he normally experienced whenever he was intoxicated. his hand left your grip to tug down on his tie that tightened around his neck, feeling as though he was suffocating.
his vision began to haze slightly, almost as though he was blinded by a wave of a familiar yet enhanced sensation– a magnified feeling.
lust.
“sylus?” his large hand hit the wall to maintain his balance. you almost called out for the staff to help but you quickly remembered they were all likely gone.
“are you alright?” your eyes blurred in a daze, your body fuzzed from the heat surrounding you and the incessant throbbing and swelling feeling of arousal spreading around you. sylus leaned on the wall, covering his eyes with his hand, the other quickly rushing down his abdomen to his crotch where a very large bulge pressed against the fabric of his pants.
oh. oh.
this was far from noble. both of you were basically clawing at your clothing, disheveled with the heat of pure desire– that had to be what it was. and for some reason, the muscles on his arms bulging through his tailored suit became more prominent than it was throughout the entire day.
just what could have caused a flash of this to happen out of nowhere?
then it clicked. the wine. that damned wine. did someone send it to you to spike you? the speculation made you pause to think. if someone wanted you and sylus dead, why would they send over a crate of cherry wine that has rendered you both insufferably hot–
“cherries, sylus, cherries are aphrodisiacs.” you groaned, holding your face in your hands. you just knew it that recommendation had no pure intent behind it.
“not strong ones,” sylus muttered, his back turned to you. though you could clearly see his ears were flushed red. “unless there’s another component in there– damn it, did you taste pomegranate?”
you did but it wasn’t that strong over the sweetness of the cherries. but you remembered someone mentioning (back in your clubbing days) that there are variants of the wine that have stronger effects– one of them being an aggressive aphrodisiac.
the air was thick, your breaths were heavy, the distance between you was less than a few steps away and ethically speaking it should have been much further than that. and yet– and yet you didn’t want to be any further from him.
you wanted to help him and yourself. through the clearest means possible.
“we need to fuck our way through this.” sylus whipped his head to you, almost bewildered by your brash approach. “only if you’re willing.”
“i am,” his chest rose and fell heavily, beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, damping that soft, cloud white hair of his. “but i worry if you are willing to do it. there are other ways we can handle this without going as far as intercourse–“
“what, masturbate in separate rooms?” you scoffed. you hissed in a breath, tugging down at your dress in a sore attempt to breathe more. “i don’t think i’d be able to get off if i can’t see you.” that part came out in a loud whisper which didn’t go deaf to his ears.
“oh sweetie,” that same infuriating yet charming smirk tugged at his plump, soft– fuck. “you think i’m attractive?”
“wasn’t that obvious?” you panted and tugged at your neckline. “gods, i need this dress off.”
a gust of energy pulled you towards sylus until you were fully in his embrace. his head was dipped into your neck, lips so close to your skin. if this was his attempt to help relieve your mutual tension it definitely wasn’t working.
“perhaps i can take it off,” his hands traveled to the back of your neck and the small of your back, searing your nerves just with his touch. “your desire has changed to that of wanting something. someone. should this someone step in?”
oh that ass– you knew exactly what he wanted you to say. you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. not by a long shot.
“maybe a kiss will suffice,” you mentally slapped your forehead. a kiss will suffice? your flirtation skills must have turned into pure mush. it was probably his face. handsome, divine, damned face!
and to your internal relief and joy he dutifully complied, engulfing you in his touch. just like the first kiss you shared, he was so gentle but this time you could sense he was holding back. though, admittedly, so were you. your hands stroked his hair, occasionally tugging at those soft tufts. a low groan erupted into your mouth accompanied with a harsh tut.
“my dear wife,” his voice had dropped an octave, rumbling straight down to your core which had already started to pool with arousal. something about him calling you that felt good. really good. “we are dangerously dangling over this cliff. are you sure you want to take the dive?”
you pecked his lips, giddy from the kiss. “let’s hope you can swim.”
your hands swarmed all over each other as the kiss intensified with each beat of your heart. in intervaled tugs and pulls and breaths between the kisses, your shoes both were kicked off, then his tie fell to the floor, then his blazer, then his dress shirt, exposing his torso to your hungry eyes.
he expertly unbuttoned your dress at its collar and paused waiting for your permission to proceed. you quickly nodded and assisted him by tugging down the front of the dress, revealing your torso both bare and sparkling from the glitter sprayed onto your dress.
sylus eyed you with an indecipherable look all while feeling his way down to your hips so slowly with his large hands, tracing his fingers over the outline of your breasts and the sides of your waist. he was admiring you.
his eyes fluttered shut as a shaky whine left his lips. within the closed space between your heated bodies, his hips managed to jut to yours reminding you of his throbbing length trapped within the confines of his clothing.
you leaned back, widened eyes peering into his burning crimson gaze. a quiet bond had formed between you in seconds and the instant understanding had been made transparently clear. he took your hands– which were not surprisingly smaller than his own– until they cupped his erection. sylus’ hands swiftly touched the zipper below the back opening of your dress and tugged it straight down.
“my patience is wearing thin, sweetie,” his lips tickled the shell of your ear. “i don’t know how much more i can hold back with you this close to me.”
you wasted no time in tugging down his pants along with his briefs allowing his cock to spring free, slapping your skin with precum almost spurting from his reddened tip. that alone was enough to have you soaked.
it was so hot and heavy, and long and thick, thick enough for you to question if your hand could wrap around it let alone your poor pussy, who was shamelessly leaking even more while sylus slid your dress and your lacy underwear down to the floor.
“i wanted to rip that off.”
“what?”
“what?” with a scoff, you pushed him back with a singular finger to his chest and stepped away from the abandoned dress on the floor to get a better look of your husband confidently standing before you.
you’re mentally fanning yourself at the sight, shamelessly thinking of all the profanities you can conjure and all the dirtiest images involving the two of you. those thoughts must have been made under the influence of the wine. right?
“you like?” sylus grinned, watching you relentless stare at his body. his well-built, muscular body. god-sculpted and revered– fuck, you were in too deep.
“don’t get cocky.” you huffed, feeling your face warm for the nth time that night. that dress was getting a bit too tight on you. you tugged at the opening at your back to force more airflow around your skin but nothing was working. prickles of sensitivity brought you to a shiver, the slightest movement from your legs was stimulating pleasure to the power of a thousand.
you almost pounced on him. almost. but you maintained composure. you straightened your posture and moved to the dining table, pushing away the plates and cutlery in your way to free up the corner. fortunately it was short enough to stand between.
sylus followed in suit, standing at the opposite end of the table at the shorter side to not be too far from you. his hands wandered all over his body, stroking and pinching at his skin to tease himself– and you.
“i know what you’re doing, sylus.”
“i know what you’re doing, sweetie,” his hand eventually found his cock, ghosting his touch over his sensitive length. you watched him bite his lips, watched him intentionally raise the stakes in the little game you were playing together.
you were going to go all in. you leaned into the corner of the table, connecting your needy wetness to its new source of pleasure.
sharp jolts ran up your spine from your clit rubbing against the corner of the table. you paused, slowly repeating the movement until you relaxed into the position too needy to stop. your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the impeding moans just begging to roll off your tongue.
across the table, he watched you in a daze while lazily pumping at his cock. his fist squeezed around the base, making the veins running up his shaft more prominent, and stroked up until his angry red tip disappeared within his hand. a gentle plap! rhythm accompanied the classical music in the background as he picked up a reasonable pace.
his fingers danced around his tip rubbing back and forth on the slit that dribbled out precum like a leaky tap– soft moans were being pulled out of his lips as he teased his body, he caressed his chest and ultimately tortured himself, all while intently watching your pretty, squished breats bounce between your arms as your hips began to rut against the table.
he must have been doing all of that on purpose.
your knuckles paled as your grip on the table strengthened, so desperate to have something inside your weeping pussy that you almost stuffed your fingers as far as they’d be able to go. but alas, you knew they weren’t capable of satiating what you needed. you dropped your head to concentrate– to go just a bit harder–
“uh-uh, kitten,” you could just hear him smiling. kitten. a jolt shot straight down to your core. you could just feel your slick begin to drip down your legs, and judging by the reckless pump of blood flow your lips must swollen from all that need. “look at me.”
nope, you weren’t planning on doing that. not while you were getting closer to your climax. the angle you had found was just perfect, hitting the bud of your swollen clit and rubbing at the sensitive nerves surrounding at. you could just hear the squelches from your wetness leaking onto the table and dripping down in small, sticky droplets.
you raised your head slightly, panting out a desperate moan, eyes hazed with arousal and need only to find sylus not where he was originally standing. your breath hitched, instantly feeling his overwhelming presence behind you. how did he get there so fast?
his lips found the back of your neck, still well exposed despite the neatness of your styled hair falling apart. his hands settled on your waist, holding you in place as kissed down your spine and around the fading remnants of the insignia painted onto your back.
“how about i help you a bit?” he murmured and licked his way up your spine until his hot, wet tongue found the shell of your ear. “would you like that?”
too breathless to speak, you nodded.
“use your words, sweetie.” he whispered and pecked your jaw. his hardened cock lightly grazed the curve of your ass. “this only works if you tell me you want it.”
“oh fuck you.”
“that’s not what i’m looking for.” he teasingly presses himself against you, rubbing himself up and down, nestling his cock between your lower cheeks. “tell me what you want.”
he was so close yet so damn far, and his teasing wasn’t helping at all. “you.” you choked.
“hmm?”
“damn you, i need your help!” you blabbered while your body instinctively pushed back to be closer to him. “i want your help and i want you– now, help me!”
sylus hummed in approval, lowering his hands to your hips. “yes ma’am.”
your legs were beginning to ache from your endless grinding to satisfy your insatiable desire, bringing you to a tremble. sylus’ presence had briefly left you until he returned with his hands on the back of your thighs and warm air fanning your pussy.
“absolutely soaked,” he commented in astonishment, pressing a wet peck on your thigh, intentionally making you feel how far he is from where he’s supposed to be. you groaned, bucking back in urgency.
“stop teasing!”
“oh?” he pressed another kiss on your other thigh, intentionally increasing the distance. “i thought enjoyed my brattiness, kitten. are you going to threaten me with your claws?”
you stopped moving to give him a glare. “sylus–“
“no, continue what you were doing. i’ll take care of this little mess right…” his fingers rubbed your entrance, spreading your wetness down to your thighs. “here.”
oh yes. his hands were perfect.
they did so much more to you than your own ever could. you slowly rocked your hips against the desk to return your wavering attention to your needy bud. the double stimulation from his fingers gradually going deeper inside you and your clit being abused by a bloody inanimate object– you could just feel yourself reaching your limit.
his fingers explored your weeping pussy without restraint, curving and curling in you to find exactly what made you tick, twitch, and tingle. his lips caressed your bare lower cheeks, making your pant more and more until a sharp sting threw you off your daze. it was a bite. he bit you.
“did you just bite my ass–“
“yeah, what about it?”
you scoffed in disbelief, muttering that you’d stop him from biting your ass and pushed his head back to devour your soaking cunt. sylus grunted in surprise but wasted no time to get to work, resting his hands on your ass to give his tongue more access to you.
you heard of tongue-fucking as a concept but you never understood how good it felt– not until now. feeling him smoothly curl and curve that wet muscle inside you so effortlessly had you in a messy daze. your nails clawed into his hair, keeping him in place to continue with his gentle yet persistent ministrations.
“s-sylus,” you moaned, moving faster and faster to chase your impending high, keeping him close to you to ensure he followed your flow. “oh, fuck, sylus!”
“mm– so profane.” his voice was muffled against you, his tongue swirled around your entrance before slipping back inside. the vibrations of his moans rumbled through you almost triggering you to tip off the edge. that familiar plap! plap! rhythm sounded beneath you, accompanying his choked noises.
you pushed his head back to face him, and you were shockingly pleased.
your dangerous husband was on his knees with his hand shamelessly tending to his abandoned, flushed cock, jutting his hips to simulate what it could feel deep inside you. the experience of having his fingers and tongue in you alone was more than enough to set him off.
now he just needed to have you in every position humanely possible.
“need some help?” you grinned in a mocking tone, slowly kneeling before him. sylus’ face was as red as the cherry wine, his broad, muscular chest glistened in a layer of sweat that dripped down the lines of his abdomen until it was lost within the trimmed, white tufts of the hairs surrounding his cock. you just couldn’t take your eyes off him. you didn’t want to.
“please,” it didn’t even take you teasing for him to give in. sylus leaned forward, hand still working his raging cock, and rested his head against yours.
“i need you,” you watched his cock twitch in his hands, slowly beginning to salivate. damn, those aphrodisiacs were strong. you had never felt that aroused before. never felt such a strong desire to take him in your mouth.
“i have an idea,” you whispered, pecking the corner of his lips. he whimpered from the mere contact, leaning into you more to reach your lips. “if you’ll let me.”
“anything, kitten,” he pressed a desperate kiss on your lips. then another. “anything.”
what he didn’t anticipate from you was that you’d immediately go down on him, moving his hands up and swiping your tongue around his cock in an instant. he sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes. what a seductress you were.
from the way you walked down the alter to him, to your joy and serenity on horseback, to that very moment with you bent down lubricating him with your tongue, kissing his leaking cockhead with your pretty lips.
you kissed your way up his shaft, long and heavy, testing how girthy he truly was with your hand– so thick you couldn’t wrap your hand around it fully. you took his tip in, getting a taste of his precum bursting into your mouth from a simple touch all while swirling your tongue over his slit.
his groans vibrated onto your tongue as it lapped up more drops of his precum at debilitatingly slow pace. lick, lick, lick like a kitten drinking milk. his shaft was not left alone, being delicately handled by your hands stroking up and down with gentle squeezes in intervals.
“squeeze– squeeze harder.” sylus panted. you raised your eyes to meet his piercing crimson gaze. a shot of tingles vibrated around your pussy, making you so much wetter. you obeyed without complaint, strengthening your grip on his cock with each stroke.
your head bobbed taking you further and further down his shaft until his leaky tip tapped the back of your mouth, right before the curve down your throat. you choked out a moan, feeling a tingle of tears burn the corners of your eyes. sylus quickly noticed and cradled your head, about to pull you out.
“are you alright?” from your angle he looked like such an adorable puppy, worried for you while his cock was stuffed in your mouth. you hummed, stroking his hand, and opened your jaw to take more of him. you took deep breaths through your nose slowly returning to your initial rhythm.
sylus watched his cock slowly disappear into your mouth until he was fully bottomed out in you. you were so warm and your throat was so tight around his length, so much so that you couldn’t help but gag every so often around his girth. the sounds of your chokes and gags filled the space along with the delicious sloppiness of your pretty mouth slurping around him.
“so pretty,” he huffed. the temptation to grip your head and guide you to go faster was getting stronger by the second. his knees ached from sitting in that position for so long but the pleasure was worth the pain. his hand instinctively pushed your further down into him and you responded so well by hollowing your cheeks, tightening your mouth around him as much as you could. his eyes rolled back as he moaned, your noises of pure pleasure reverberated in the air.
it was so wet and sloppy, creating a small puddle of precum and saliva from what dripped out of your mouth. you pulled your head back with a loud pop! with your tongue out, letting all the slickness drip down to his tip. sylus groaned in an attempt to hold back whatever profanities brewed in him.
your face was drenched from the tip of your nose down beyond your chin. sylus breathing was heavy, chest heaving, face fully flushed. his lips opened to speak but he was rendered speechless. his lips rushed onto your neck, licking up the slick wetness until his lips found yours.
like how you worked his cock, the kiss was wet, sloppy, lustfully passionate and boiling with your mutual greed to consume each other. your tongues swirled and collided, teeth occasionally clashing as well in reckless pursuit of remaining as close as possible.
he pulled you onto his lap, cock still rock hard and flush against your abdomen, rubbing against your flesh, making him shiver from the stimulation. the buzz from the aphrodisiac was still strong, coursing through him as quickly as his pulse.
“need to be in you,” he moaned against you lips in a rough plea. “need to feel you.”
your inhibitions were right out the window. all you could think of was the thought of you two sickeningly together, divinely united, fucking consummating the damn marriage just so you could fully feel him. “need you inside, sy,”
like hearing an instant buzzword sylus immediately acted on your word, picking you up and moving you towards the carpet by the fireplace. he rested your head on the larger pillow while pressing his lips down your body, whispering his praises.
his lips found your hand and kissed each knuckle. “thank you for accepting me despite our rough first impression.” he kissed you up your arm all the way to your collarbones, nipping your flesh then licking you as an apology.
“want to make you feel so good,” he suckled on your skin as his hands fondled your breasts, thumbs circling your pebbled nipples making your back arch. he gently tugged on your hardened bud with his teeth and switched to the other, lathering it with his tongue and leaving harsh bruises behind.
“want to be yours,” his lips slowly travelled back up your neck, suckling small bruises and biting his mark onto your skin.
“you are, genuis.” you huffed, wiggling your finger holding the bedazzled ring. sylus glanced at it with a look of great admiration, enamoured by how it looked in your hand. how you wore it so confidently.
“legally,” his hands held your face and gave you a squish. “legally, but not of your own accord.”
you had to admit that he was correct. the marriage alone wasn’t something you would have agreed with. but you found him interesting within the last few hours where you got to speak to him. outside of your physical attraction to him you liked how his mind worked too.
“then let me make you mine.”
a look of surprise painted his face. you assured him with a smile. “let me claim you as mine. my husband. my friend. my partner.”
your lips found each other once more, dancing in pure passion and adoration as your bodies performed a more lewd waltz in grinds and strong grips on sensitive flesh. sylus adjusted himself, aligning his cock with your dripping entrance.
he gave you one more questioning look to which you responded with an affirmative nod, lacing your fingers between his. he rolled his hips against yours, gently bullying the tip of his cock into you until it disappeared past your swollen pussy lips. you felt so warm and so damn tight he struggled to keep what was left of his composure.
the sting of his sheer size and girth made you hiss and claw your fingers on his arm, gasping at the sheer buildup of pressure. sylus’ eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed, and lips parted allowing a melodic moan to flow into your ears.
somehow the feeling of him being inside you get you wetter than you could comprehend and your walls sucked him in, pulling his cock deeper into you until he was almost, almost bottomed out.
“i think she likes me,” he huffed, massaging your hips to soothe the sting.
“maybe.”
“definitely.” he slowly drew his hips back and thrusted forward with little restraint. the pain had disappeared with a fiery ignition replacing it. your gummy walls held onto his cock as it drew back and rushed into you again, creating a slick and wet noise between you as he gradually went faster.
your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to lock him in place while your hands explored his back, smooth and rippled with his muscles tensing and relaxing with each gentle thrust. his lips peppered kisses and bites onto your neck, sucking harsh bruises into your skin as a substitution for the pent up desire he was desperately trying to hold back.
your name was rambled into the air in seething moans as if he was almost pained to have to restrain himself. to not harm you in pursuit of pleasing you. and then you tugged his hair. and gave him that look.
“stop holding back sy,” you whispered and pecked the corner of his lip. you were feeling a bit too greedy. “let’s give in.”
something must have snapped in him. a switch must have flipped because you saw a completely different look in his eyes in the exact second you felt his cock fit inside you entirely, fully bottoming out in you. your eyes rolled back from the sheer quick force of it, choking out a cry.
he wasn’t merciful either with his pace gradually picking up to the point where your skin slapped against his every time your hips collided until a wet clapping rhythm echoed across the dining hall alongside your joint noises.
your hands crept up to his back, finding comfort in rudely carving red lines into his skin without restraint. sylus’ melodic groans serenaded you into a haze that demanded more and more from him– more noise, more pleasure, just more.
sylus slowly sat up and glanced down to watch his cock disappear inside you then pull back out, glistening with your joint wetness to the point where it ran up his abdomen. the pillows propping you up gave you a slight view as well, a view so lewd that you almost hit your orgasm then and there.
“you are so– so tight, kitten.” sylus panted, pushing his damped hair back. his muscles were flexed, defining the sweat dripping down his body. you were almost certain you could ride his abs and get off just from that.
“you’re so big,” your eyes fluttered closed, too overwhelmed by him filling you up consistently. the pleasure alone was overwhelming. seeing him so disheveled because of you was so delightful.
your legs were pushed up against you before he leaned back down, his tip teasing your dripping entrance for painfully long seconds before pushing in entirely in a swift slam. your pussy stung with esctasy, your toes curled from the intensive swell of pleasure in the direct spot his tip brutally poked, your eyes crossed out of your control. just what did he do?
near shaking above you, sylus leaned into your touch, hypnotised– no, enamoured by you. he just wanted to stay buried so deeply inside you, privileged to be the only one to feel how your walls squeeze and flutter around him, to be able to explore what makes you tick and moan or scratch him in need, what would make you happy, what would anger you, he wanted it all.
he had it all. he had you. and he was gradually learning just how much he needed you.
“you’re so enchanting,” he half moaned-half laughed as he returned to his initial pace in that deeper angle. “so– gods– so powerful.” he watched your pretty face fall into a daze, lips spread apart for him to hear your voice crack with your cries. your bodies were so close that the friction of your sweat stricken skin no longer bothered either of you.
you could felt your limit approaching. all that stimulation and foreplay from earlier on top of the aphrodisiac’s influence was driving you insane. you pulled sylus’ head to yours, pressing your lips onto his desperate to consume him, desperate to ensure he knew how you felt so good with him. how you felt safe.
but fuck, you were going to explode. you were so painfully close and it looked like he was too.
it took a few more sharp thrusts before the thin string snapped, throwing you into a whole new realm of bliss. a loud cry escaped you, followed by a soft whimper from the man above you before you both crumbled in the cloud of intoxicating sparks bursting.
your soaked walls fluttered as globs of sticky, hot cum filled you up, partially spurting out with each rough thrust. a string of curses filled the air from both of you due to the sheer deliciousness of the feeling.
hours– or, realistically speaking, minutes– must have passed while you panted, glistening in the afterglow of your erotic pursuit. despite the exhaustion, you somehow managed to soothe each other through soft caresses and massages in the areas where you gripped each other harder than intended.
sylus rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the parts of your neck that he could reach. you brought his hand to your lips and pecked each knuckle over and over again, blessing his ring finger with a particularly longer one.
“when the effects wear off, things will be a bit awkward.” sylus grumbled.
you hummed in agreement. but considering how far you had gone on your first– technically second– day of knowing one another, you could pretty much do anything.
“how about we start off as friends first and see where that goes?” you suggesting, lacing your fingers with his. your rings dazzled in the moonlight for to admire. “i mean, we’ve already achieved the marriage goal. and the consummation.”
his laugh vibrated onto your neck, further lulling you in to comfortable exhaustion. maybe a nice nap on the floor wouldn’t hurt.
sylus smiled a kiss onto your neck then your cheek, eyes twinkling with bliss and joy. “alright then, dearest wife who is also my new friend. let’s do that.”
in the mutual quiet, you both found yourselves admiring each other as the heat of your climax finally cooled down. and then the next wave of arousal quickly arrived. you definitely weren’t going to hold back this time.
“again.” you pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips.
“again?” he panted, almost in worry. you were insatiable.
“you can’t handle it?” you laughed in a teasing tone. within an instant you found yourself straddled on top of him– he must have turned you over with that inhumane strength– his cock quickly hardening again inside you.
“i was worried about you, sweetie,” he squeezed your nose with a playful grin before settling his large hands on your hips, rocking them back and forth. you could just feel his cum seeping out of you. “i hope you can keep up because we won’t be stopping till the sun rises.”
#✧.* thalwri#✧.* thalwri works#sylus x reader#sylus smut#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace x reader#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus
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I Have A Feeling You Got Everything You Wanted

Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: Falling in love with Azriel had never been in the cards. Falling in love with anyone other than the husband your father appointed to you had always been a far-fetched notion. And that was a truth you had lived by. 10 years ago.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Yearning, pining, all that is longing and angst and exes to lovers <3
a/n: Guys I adored writing this so I hope you love it!! Inspired by 'We Hug Now' by Sydney Rose. I so so appreciate hearing what you think. Thank you for reading!!
Read the continuation of Warren's story here
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
You fiddled with the ring on your finger, passing it over your knuckle and twisting it back down.
Your stomach hurt, pain and nausea mingling with such severity you feared you would be sick. The thought was comical, in a way. The company at the table would be so concerned over their dresses and the obscenely expensive tablecloth that you could probably sneak away. But that would still be a feat considering the heavy palm resting on your thigh.
Warren was a nice man. He fulfilled his duties as the man you were to marry with dutiful purpose. He learned your favorite foods, how you liked your tea in the morning, and the shops you frequented. He touched you kindly, respectfully, and he was always nice to your friends. He was nice. But you were not in love with him.
In Warren’s defense, you were never going to be in love with him. Your father had decided that you should be, however, so you were promised to him from a young age. That was typical of the high fae with your family’s rank, and you had evaded that duty for some time now. Your father had given into your whims for several years, allowing you to “galavant around”, as he would say, acting as the Winter Court’s emissary until Warren’s family grew impatient.
Your return to Winter had been met with immediate wedding planning. You had been called upon for floral arrangements and the menu and to finalize the color scheme. Warren had done his best to quell his incessant mother’s demands, but the wedding was a court affair and everyone was thrilled.
Well, most were.
Before you had stepped foot in the Night Court ten years ago, you had been indifferent about the wedding. Sure, it wasn’t optimal to have to marry a man you knew so little about, but it had been an expectation since your birth. Warren may not have been your choice, but he was certainly not the worst choice when compared to the other eligible bachelors in the pool. You had left to act as emissary with a gentle begrudging that cared little for the future.
You had returned with so much indescribable longing that you had trouble speaking to others.
Every decision you made was accompanied by an inundating weight that threatened to crush you. You chose daisies for the aisle and you thought of him. You wore that ridiculous wedding dress with the high neck and drapey sleeves and you remembered how he used to touch you. You sat at this dinner, celebrating the joining of two families, and you reminisced on how it felt to sit with him, with his family, and to feel that you belonged somewhere.
The urge to be sick persisted as your future mother-in-law hoisted her glass in the air, bubbles losing weight and flying up to the rim.
It was cruel—all the mundane things that reminded you of him.
“To my son,” Warren’s mother toasted, white furs puffing around her cheeks. “And his new bride-to-be. We are overjoyed that the long-awaited day meets us!”
You gritted through your smile, raising your glass to your lips. The edge hit your teeth and the sound of the impact vibrated your brain.
“Oops,” you giggled, the splattering of fae wine against cobblestone suddenly hilarious. “Who did that?”
“I believe you are the only one in this alleyway, my love.” Azriel’s smooth voice sent a pleasant warmth up your spine.
You whirled around, night air kissing your bare shoulders. It felt electric when accompanied by Azriel’s adoring smile—addicting.
“You followed me,” you mused, curling your glass into your chest and stepping closer to the Shadowsinger.
Azriel met your steps without pause. “Of course I did.” You smiled at him, light and airy. He brought soft fingers up to brush along your face as he asked, “Are you alright?”
“More than alright,” you were quick to reply. “Just needed some air. It gets so hot in there.”
He hummed, eyes tracing over your features. “Want to go home?”
“I feel that Mor would be angry with me.”
“She would only be angry for a day. Buy her those shoes she was eyeing.”
“And why should I choose to go home with you?”
Azriel pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. He moved back, only an inch, and whispered, “Come with me and you’ll find out.”
“That reminds me of when Warren climbed that icy tree in the courtyard. Oh, what a silly child he was!” A boisterous aunt clapped her hands as she shouted, snapping you out of the memory with a small jump.
Your chest ached as you breathed out a laugh and rejoined the table.
Beside you, Warren chuckled, his hand brushing lightly near your knee. “Please, do not bring up anything I’ve done before the age of twenty,” he pleaded. His eyes shone their pretty blues. His hair looked enticingly soft. “I don’t need y/n to have those images in her mind.”
He turned slightly, flashing you a small smile that spelled marital secrets and private conversations through eyes.
Where you should have felt the lightness of new love elating you, buzzing at your skin, you felt the increasing urge to cry. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t cry. You hadn’t cried since the night you left him.
“I’m sure it would only make you that much more endearing,” you teased, swallowing hard when Warren took your words as an opening to dive into a tale of the past.
He didn’t deserve this, in all honesty.
Warren was a nice man.
But Azriel—
“You are so beautiful.”
“You’re supposed to be watching, Az,” you admonished, tucking your face into his arm to hide the heat on your face.
“I am watching,” he argued. He leaned down, your back pressed to his chest, and kissed the skin above your ear.
“Not me. The stars,” you clarified.
You tilted your head slightly, meeting the crook of his elbow where it rounded your shoulders. He kissed you again and again, mapping out the top of your head with the delicate pecks. You laughed and that only egged him on. He turned you and pressed you back until your spine met the railing of the balcony, and then he was kissing your cheeks and your temple—the bridge of your nose and your brow.
“Azriel,” you tried again, but his smile was against your skin and he wasn’t listening. “You’re missing Starfall!”
“I can see it next year,” he murmured against you.
“And you can kiss me whenever you want.”
He paused, pulling back to catch your eyes. You smiled, confused at the serious moment in the otherwise light mood. He had no response to your confusion, only leaning back in to brush his nose against yours.
Maybe he had known.
You had foolishly thought this all to be avoidable, figuring your father would understand that you had found happiness. That he would have cared and given up on this unwanted marriage.
He hadn’t.
“Isn’t that right?”
You blinked, turning to your fiance with a haze in your eyes.
You hadn’t been listening.
The cake on your plate was becoming stale, its untouched state starkly contrasted with the empty glass of champagne to the left. You pulled your lips into a line, searching Warren’s encouraging eyes as he tried to help you. It didn’t work; you had no idea where the conversation was left.
“I’m sorry,” you bluntly stated, voice turned up into the posh tone your father had ingrained in you. You turned to address the table. “I seem to have been lost in my head. I didn’t sleep very well last night. Catch me up?”
Warren gave your knee a fond squeeze before removing his hand to place it on the back of your chair. He leaned down slightly, his voice lowering as he offered a gentle excuse for you. She has been so incredibly busy, he offered warmly, she’ll be even busier when the wedding is over.
You felt as if you were underwater. Your face lit up with another asinine smile and it was difficult to breathe. Not because you weren’t used to this setting—not because Warren was a bad man. This was supposed to be your life. This was what you were supposed to be doing.
There had never been any indication of a different path.
“I love you.”
You whipped your head to the side, abandoning the sketchbook in your lap as your charcoal rolled into the seat cushions.
“What?”
Azriel smiled. He leaned over the pillow separating you, tucking your knees further into your chest as he closed the space on the loveseat. “I said I love you,” he repeated, breath fanning over your lips. “I’ve told you before, but you haven’t heard me.”
You let out an incredulous huff of laughter, your gaze bouncing between both of his eyes. “When? I don’t remember that.”
“At the Sidra yesterday. Last week at the shops. Three days ago when you fell asleep on me.”
“No, you didn’t! I would have remembered.”
Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear and left his hand resting on your cheek. “You are often oblivious to your surroundings, my love. Especially when something is interesting in front of you like fish or jewels.”
You scoffed. “Not true. My father made sure I was very observant. My tutor would smack the back of my neck any time I got distracted.”
Azriel tutted, disapproval darkening his eyes as he brushed his scarred hand to cup the back of your neck. He shifted on the loveseat so you were sat on his lap, his other hand finding a home on the side of your thighs.
“That is cruel,” Azriel remarked. “Being distracted is in your nature. I don’t know if there is a time you are not distracted.”
“There are many interesting things to look at,” you mused, humming as his fingers inched up your scalp.
“I’m sure.” A pause. Azriel had the gall to look unsure. “You do not have to love me back.”
Your posture stiffened, the words leaving you before you could consider them. “I love you, Azriel. I love you, too.”
He seemed to slump against you at that, tension you didn’t know was there leaving his body. He offered you a warm smile and then kissed you—and kissed you and kissed you.
It had seemed like there was another path.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Warren announced to the table. A musician had begun to play the harp in the corner of the restaurant. “My bride and I have much to discuss tonight so we must retire. Please, continue to enjoy the night.”
Confused and disoriented, you took his gloved hand in yours and said goodbye to the correct people. You weren’t supposed to be the first to leave. This was your rehearsal dinner.
Warren guided you into the winding hall, his grip soft and reassuring. You attempted not to trip on your dress as you went, your head throbbing with an invisible pain that seemed to linger these months back in Winter.
It had been months without seeing him.
You were getting married the next day.
It would be final then.
The first step outside the restaurant was both invigorating and unpleasant, the cold air assaulting your senses. It did the job of snapping you out of your thoughts, but then you were left standing in the snow before Warren, and that was a similar form of torture.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he prompted, tugging your cloak over your shoulders. You had missed him grabbing it from the coat check. “You’ve been off since you returned but it’s worse tonight.”
Warren had known you peripherally before you left for the Night Court. You were to be married, so he made it a point to at least meet you before you were gone. He had not known you would be gone for years, but neither had you. The last time you spoke to Warren before you had met Azriel, a wilted salad sat between him and your father, the pair discussing politics and import prices.
Warren would not have known something was wrong, he hardly knew you, but he did anyway. Because he had made it a point to be a good husband.
That’s what made this even more tortuous.
Maybe, if he were terrible, it would be easy.
Your chin wobbled for a moment of breath. You’d pass it off as a chill.
“Nothing is wrong,” you smiled, cheeks already stiff from the cold. “I didn’t sleep well. That’s all.”
Warren closed his eyes, breath a white puff before him. “Don’t lie.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not!”
Azriel tugged his hand through his hair. His face was flushed, feet taking him in a disorganized line around the room. “You are engaged.”
“Not by choice. I don’t know him, not really. I could tell my father—”
“You would be shunned—cut off. I know how noble families are, y/n.”
The use of your name struck you, a stark contrast to the soft, endearing terms Azriel so loved to use around you. You flinched unconsciously, eyes darting around his room to find some sort of explanation for this.
“I don’t care about any of that,” you urged. You remained rooted in the doorway, unable to move. “I’d stay here. I wouldn’t go back.”
“You would leave your family? Your… fiancé?” Azriel spit out the last word. The crumbled missive crinkled in your hand as you clutched it tighter.
“I would do anything to be with you.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t make this my decision.”
The paper fell from your fingers. You brought your palm to your chest, ignoring the harshness of his tone. “No, I know. This isn’t—this is my choice, Azriel. I want to stay here. To be with you.”
“I can’t be the reason you abandon your family. Your responsibilities. You—You lied, y/n. You never told me about any of this,” Azriel bit out, hands curled into fists.
“I’m sorry! I wanted to—I did—but I was so afraid you would be angry. And then I fell in love with you and—”
Azriel held his hand up, abruptly stopping your teary explanation. His chest visibility heaved. “You should go.”
“What?”
“Answer your father. Tell him you’ll comply with the date.”
Tears wet your cheeks, the silence following his demand pressing them down in heavy streaks. He stared back at you and he looked so angry, his eyes a calculated cold. He had never looked at you like that.
“You’re hurt,” you spoke, voice a mess of tears. “You don’t mean that.”
He only shook his head slightly. “I do.”
“Azriel, I love you. I was promised to marry him when I was born. I don’t—”
The muscle in his jaw feathered, effectively silencing you. His shadows were going haywire, half of them wrapped around their master, protecting him, the other half twining around your chest. Did they know you were in pain? Did they know your chest wouldn’t move?
“Okay,” you relented. More tears fell when Azriel only gave you a hard stare. “Okay, I—I’m sorry, Azriel. I love you—”
You choked on a sob when he turned around, apparently unable to watch as you broke down.
And that's what made this the most torturous of all; you could leave Warren—maybe—and Azriel still wouldn’t want you back.
You decided you wouldn’t lie to Warren just as you didn’t to Azriel.
“I fell in love.”
Warren nodded, barely blinking at your admission. “In Night?”
Your brow furrowed. “Yes, but—you aren’t angry?”
“I couldn’t expect you to tie yourself to me. You didn’t know me when we were engaged and I didn’t do the best job at getting to know you when we came of age.”
“I left.”
“To meet your soulmate, it seems.”
“We had no mating bond.”
Warren’s mouth ticked up at the corner. He adjusted the collar of your cloak and dusted the snow from your shoulder. “A mating bond is not always the answer.”
Faelight from the post beside the restaurant gleamed off the bronze hues in Warren’s hair. He leaned back, hands encasing your upper arms. “I’ve missed my chance then.”
Something soft fractured inside of you—because he was right. Warren could be all things kind and loving and he wouldn’t be Azriel. No one would be.
“I’m sorry,” you softly spoke. “I never meant—”
“Don’t apologize. Go to him.”
Your lips parted. “Warren, I couldn’t. We’re to be married tomorrow. I wouldn’t do that to you. And our families would be enraged.”
“I’m hardly concerned about our families. As much as I would have enjoyed marrying you—and I would have, please do not get that misconstrued—there are several noble ladies my mother has lined up and already ready, I’m sure. And as for your family… to be honest, y/n, you came back from Night brighter than I remember you. It seems you have another family waiting for you.”
It all sounded wonderful—wonderful and so, so easy. You’d have Warren as an ally and you could return to the people you’d called home for so many years. You’d feel at home. The loss of your homeland would sting, but it was a worthy sacrifice.
But then you remembered the anger and hurt in Azriel’s eyes, and this was no longer easy.
The light extinguished from your eyes, shoulders deflating in Warren’s hold. “I can’t. He was so angry with me.”
“When?”
You met the blues of his eyes, chest hollow. “He found out about our engagement the night before I returned. He told me to go. He was—Warren, he wouldn’t want me back.”
Warren clicked his tongue. “I can guarantee that he’s kicking himself over that. He didn’t mean it. Imagine you learned he was engaged after so many years together. That can’t have been easy.”
“I know,” you mumbled, ashamed.
“But—” he continued “—if he loves you, he would have regretted that the moment you left. Go back to him. Speak with him. If he turns you away we can still be married in the morning.”
“You would still marry me?” you deadpanned, brow raised in amusement.
“It’s either you or the girl my mother surely has on standby.”
You scoffed out a laugh and pushed at his chest. He grabbed his sweater in mock pain, a charming smile playing on his face.
Despite the task that awaited you, you felt lighter. You let out a resolute sigh before saying, “You’re going to be a wonderful husband, Warren.”
He looked up at you from where he had bent his neck, peeking out from below his lashes. “Just not to you?” he asked.
“Not to me,” you affirmed.
~~
The air in the Night Court felt different—shimmering, somehow, although that may have been chalked up to the anxiety coursing through your veins. The crystalline silk dress still adorning your frame stood out against the dark hues of the court.
It had been a feat to get up to the house. After winnowing into the outskirts of Velaris, you had prayed Mor was home to the tune of several knocks on her door. She was—thankfully—and seemingly more than happy to see you. She had rushed through a tale of how terrible Azriel was doing without you that quickly morphed into a lecture about how pissed she was that you left without a proper farewell.
You had apologized, and she had sent for someone with wings.
Cassian appeared next, rattling off much of the same as Mor only with more shouting and less snapping. After several apologies, Cassian brought you up to the House and then promptly left to the opposite side of the House.
And so, you were left alone with an insurmountable task.
The halls of the House were painfully familiar, each step a reminder of the life you once thought to be forever. You passed your room—only used for the first few months before you made a home in Azriel’s—several sitting rooms, the kitchen; Azriel’s door was closed.
You hadn’t knocked on it in years.
You sucked in a breath, allowing it to fill your chest and then your stomach, and then you knocked. And knocked again.
“I told you to leave it, Cassian,” came Azriel’s reply. “I don’t wish to talk about it.”
His voice was rough and thick. You knocked again, listening close to the wood for the sound of footfall or movement. You only heard Azriel’s bed shift.
You knocked again.
No answer.
Well, if you were going to do this it wasn’t going to be halfway.
You turned the knob, the metal cold and reassuring under your palm. You had done that before.
Azriel’s room was much of the same. Some things were missing; paintings on the wall had been removed, the side of the bed you typically slept on looked all but bare, his curtains had been changed.
Your gaze went out before it went in, and when it went in, you saw him. Hunched over on the side of his bed, Azriel sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His fingers were threaded through his hair, his room almost unseeably dark. He didn’t look up when you entered.
“I want to be left alone,” he grunted out. He sniffed. “Tell me after she’s married and only then.”
He knew you were getting married tomorrow. He had kept track.
Obviously, that had been a possibility, but you had expected more avoidance. He was angry with you—at you. He couldn’t even look at you when you left, hadn’t told you he loved you as you packed your things and vanished. It would have made sense if he resented you. If he stayed away from all things that involved you.
“I am not getting married.”
His head snapped up at a vicious speed, hands falling into his lap just as quickly. His shadows, once in a clump at his feet, exclaimed in the air before cautiously edging towards you. He took you in, eyes roving over your figure in a panic. You caught the reflection on his cheekbones in the small amount of light filtering past his curtains. His eyes were swollen, his face gaunt.
His voice cracked as it formed the sounds of your name.
Nerves caught up with you. You closed the door behind you and stayed rooted in the same spot you had left him in, feet creating an indent by the wall. You played with your fingers at your waist.
“Um, hello,” you greeted, clearing your throat. It hurt to look at him, you realized. You tore your eyes from his ruined expression to gaze down at your hands. “I realize you told me to leave. And I did—I had every intention of following my father’s requests as you told me to do. But—um. Warren could tell something was off. I was trying my best, I swear I was, but it was hard to fall back into that role after spending so much time here. After being comfortable here. With you.”
You chewed at your cheek for a moment. A bad habit you had picked up in the months back in Winter. Azriel’s bed creaked. He’d stood up.
He was going to leave. You needed to get this out, quickly.
“I know you’re angry and I’m so sorry, Azriel. I had foolishly thought I could avoid the fate my father had set out if I just ignored it. If I just lived out my life here with you. I thought it would all go away so I never told you about Warren and—”
“Please,” Azriel interrupted. “Stop saying his name.”
You could feel his presence. Now directly in front of you, his shadows became more comfortable and had taken to sliding along your skin. Azriel stepped forward until you could hear his breath, but you refused to look up. You couldn’t.
You apologized instead. “I just came back because… I just wanted you to know that you have become my family. You had said that I was making a choice between you and my family, but that’s not true. I feel at home here. And you can tell me to leave again. You can and I’ll—”
“Look at me.”
You sucked in a breath, picking at the skin of your palm.
Azriel placed his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting your face up to his. The first touch of his skin against yours had warmth blooming in your gut, but it was quickly replaced with a tight ball of anxiety when his eyes met yours.
“Gods, I’ve missed your eyes,” he all but sighed. You backed up a step until your back met his door. He followed. “Is it my turn to talk?”
You pressed your lips together and nodded.
“Letting you leave—speaking to you like that—has been my greatest regret,” he began, the gravelly nature of his voice conveying more than his words ever could. His lashes were damp as they fanned against his cheeks.
“I didn’t tell you the truth. You had every right—”
Azriel pressed his thumb to your bottom lip and trained his eyes on the skin he displaced. He winced with a slight shake of his head. “I’m talking, my love.”
He continued. “I did not have the right. I was hurt, you were correct, but I wasn’t listening. It was unfair of me to react that way. I wanted you to come back the moment you left.”
“Then why didn’t you come get me?” you whispered.
“I thought you had everything you wanted. I figured—y/n, I have never been the best option. I’m a killer. I have hang-ups. I wanted you to have a way out.”
“I didn’t want a way out,” you stressed, gripping Azriel’s wrist. He had moved his hand back to cup your jaw. “I wanted you. I didn’t care about any of that. I was willing to throw away my entire life in Winter to stay.”
“I know.”
“And then you told me to leave.”
“I know.”
“It’s not fair.”
Azriel let out a tortured breath. His shoulders sagged and his forehead met yours, even though he didn’t ask, even though you weren’t sure who was mad at who anymore. You kept your eyes open as his closed, watching his face twist.
“Wanted?”
You drew back. “What?”
Azriel’s eyes opened. “You said wanted. That you wanted me. That you were willing to stay.”
You could only stare at him.
“Does that mean… is this irreparable?”
“Why do you think I’m here, Azriel?” A broken, defeated smile donned your face. “I don’t think we could ever be irreparable. I don’t think I’d have the strength to keep that up.”
He was kissing you, a hurried press of his lips against yours, and his sticky cheeks became wet once more as they brushed against yours. His hands found the back of your head, your waist, pulling you in closer. His wings came around to keep you in place—unnecessary. You weren’t going to leave.
He pressed harder still, barely enough air between you to breathe. He took the small amount that was there, whispering apologies and declarations against your lips.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know, Azriel.”
“Please don’t marry him.”
“I won’t.”
“I love you. So much.”
You kissed him more, softer, and he let you set the pace. At some point, his feet had guided you to the plush surface of his bed, positioning you at the head without ever breaking from your lips.
“I’m sorry,” he said again—a kiss to your jaw, one along your temple. “I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Showing you how much I love you.”
“It’s okay, Azriel. I’m sorry too—”
“Don’t. Please. I played out you returning to me so many times in my head. You never apologized in them. You have no reason to.”
You threaded your fingers through the hair on his nape, eyes cast softly up as he hovered above you. “I could have been more open.”
“I’ve thought about that. I—I was foolish to think you’d want that future. You are nothing like the woman they have forced you into the mold of.”
A small smile. “So you’ve noticed?”
Azriel only kissed you once more before a seriousness cast over his face. “Were you… treated well?”
“Treated well?”
“I believe his name is Warren.”
You fought back a laugh at the way he mumbled the words. “You’re worried he was cruel?”
“Among other things. I know how noblemen can behave.”
“And when did you begin to worry about that.”
“From the moment you said his name was Warren.”
You did laugh that time, shifting on the bed until Azriel laid on his back. You rested along his side, palm flat on his chest. Like a moth to a flame, Azriel’s wings captured you in their own hold. “Warren would have made a good husband. He is a kind man—doting, even.” Azriel tensed beneath you, but you only smoothed your fingers down the plane of his chest. “But I didn’t love him. Maybe I could have tried, before I met you. But not after.”
Azriel rested his hand atop yours, squeezing your fingers. “I will thank him then. For caring for you when I did not.”
You looked at him softly, removing your hand to brush stray hairs from his forehead. “He told me to go to you. I was at my rehearsal dinner. I think if I had opened my mouth I would have said your name.”
He responded with a hand rubbing circles into your back. You laid your head on his chest. “Things will be different now. I can’t go home for a while.”
“You are home,” he replied. “Things may be different, but I will never be different. Not when it comes to you.”
Read the continuation of Warren's story here
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#azriel fanfic#azriel angst#acotar#acotar fanfiction
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My best friend and I hate the same person (our mother in law) and I'm currently trying to convince my beloved that we should role-play omegaverse at Thanksgiving dinner every time mother in law interjects into our conversation.
Our respective partners are obviously the omegas in this scenario. (Bless their hearts, they don't know what they're in for.)
#im aware I could be an adult#but im kind of tired of being rationale#and getting spoken over#and condescended to#and ignored#and forced to let the worst person ill ever meet organize the world to her preferences and dictation#so#fuck it#im just gonna get more and more unhinged#omegaverse it is#she seats everyone at the table based on size and uses that to shame people about their weights#people are visiting from out of the country#and she is concerned about who is sitting where#JUST LET PEOPLE SIT AND TALK#if she sees people talking and enjoying themselves#she must join the conversation and make it about something noone cares about#like#I am not being mean or exaggerating it will be a story about how she set her friends up to be groped by her father in law and it will have#started because she needed to tell us about his favorite wine#man died 50 years ago#this story will take 30 minutes to tell#and you must pay attention to the whole thing or she throws a fit and abuses our spouses#I want to hit her with a car like she tried to do to me#genuinely might set my sister on distract mother in law duty as a massive solid to me
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Hey, you know when spencer is doing his physics magic thing and it lands on emily head then she asks him how this works but he refuses to tell her claiming a true magician never reveals his secrets but when the reader asks him he agrees to show her immediately cuz he's so whipped and everyone's is like 🤨🤨🤨
Also happy birthday i hope you have a great year full of happiness 🫶🏻✨️❤️
magic — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: a/n: hiii !! spencer looked so cute in this scene i love early szns spence <3 also tysm that's so sweet !!! <333 also i couldnt find the a gif for this scene so this gif will have to do
You, JJ, and Garcia had gathered behind Spencer, who was seated in one of the rolling chairs, his frame hunched over a small film cannister on the desk.
He had promised to show you all a "physics magic trick," though so far, nothing magical—or even remotely interesting—had happened.
JJ glanced at you, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Nothing is happening," she whispered.
You shrugged, leaning slightly over Spencer's shoulder to get a better look at whatever he was tinkering with.
Spencer, however, seemed to be struggling. His hands fidgeted with the small plastic device on the desk, but his focus was clearly divided.
The warmth of you standing so close behind him was distracting, and he could feel the faint brush of your breath against his neck.
He cleared his throat. "Shhh, watch," he said, his voice cracking slightly and rising an octave higher than usual.
You raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick, amused glance with JJ.
Spencer’s enthusiasm was endearing, even if the trick itself seemed to be taking its sweet time.
You leaned in a little closer, your chin nearly resting on his shoulder, and you could’ve sworn you saw the tips of his ears turn pink.
And then it happened.
The small plastic device—a tiny black spring-loaded film cannister—suddenly sprang to life. With a sharp ping, it launched into the air, flying in a high arc across the bullpen. You watched, wide-eyed, as it sailed over the desks and directly toward the doorway.
Emily chose that exact moment to walk in.
The plastic projectile hit her squarely on the forehead with a soft thunk.
She froze mid-step, her hand instinctively flying to the spot where it had struck. "Ow! What—?" she exclaimed.
Spencer looked mortified. His hands flailing as he stammered out an apology. "I’m so sorry, Emily!
You couldn’t help it—a burst of laughter escaped you, quickly followed by JJ and Garcia joining in.
Emily rubbed her forehead, glaring at him. "What was that?" she asked.
Your laughter only grew louder at Spencer’s flustered expression, and the sound of it made his heart hammer in his chest. He couldn’t help but glance at you, his cheeks flushing even deeper.
"Don’t you recognize a rocket when you see one?" Garcia chimed in, her grin widening as she nudged Spencer playfully.
Spencer's voice rose slightly in defense. "I was merely demonstrating a fundamental physics law! I didn’t mean to—"
Emily waved him off, her curiosity now piqued. "Oh, show me," she said, walking over to the table where you were all gathered. She leaned in, her eyes scanning the small film cannister Spencer had been tinkering with. "How does it work?"
Spencer hesitated, then shook his head. "A magician never reveals his secrets," he said, his tone mock-serious as he gestured for her to turn around. Emily rolled her eyes but complied, stepping back as Spencer reset the device.
Spencer managed to show the trick again, but not without getting into trouble with Hotch. The girls immediately went back to their desks. Staying there even after Hotch went back to his office.
But you stayed at Spencer's desk.
You leaned against it, your arms casually crossed as you watched him fiddle with the small film cannister. “Spencer,” you said softly, causing him to tilt his head up to look at you.
“Yeah?” he replied, his voice low and slightly hesitant, the way it always was when he talked to you. It was endearing, the way he got so shy, as if he were afraid of saying the wrong thing.
“How did you do that trick?” you asked, giving him your sweetest smile. You knew he’d mentioned something about magicians never revealing their secrets, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little.
Spencer hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping back to the device in his hands.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, clearly torn between his love of sharing knowledge and his earlier declaration about magicians and their secrets.
But then he looked up at you again, and whatever resolve he had crumbled under the warmth of your smile.
“Well…” he began, his voice softening as he gave in. He gestured for you to lean in closer, and you did.
His words came quickly at first, a rapid-fire explanation of potential energy, kinetic energy, and the calculations needed to make the trick work. As he spoke, his tone grew more animated, his hands moving to illustrate his points.
You listened intently, nodding along, though half your attention was on the way his eyes sparkled with excitement.
When he finished explaining, he glanced at you, almost shyly. “Want to try it?” he asked.
You grinned. “Absolutely.”
Spencer handed you the small plastic device, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.
The contact was brief, but it sent a little jolt through you, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks flush.
He guided you through the steps, his voice soft, his hands hovering near yours ready to help if needed.
Your fingers brushed against his again as you adjusted the device, and you could feel the faint tremor in his hand.
It was subtle, but it was there, and it made your heart skip a beat.
Just as you were about to launch the film cannister, Emily’s voice cut through the moment. “Hey, are you showing her how to do that physics trick?” she asked, her tone accusatory.
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Spencer. “You said no one was allowed to know.”
JJ, who had been quietly observing from her desk, looked up at Emily’s words, her own eyebrow quirking in curiosity.
You glanced at Spencer, who looked like a deer caught in headlights, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with a response.
But before he could say anything, you grinned and leaned back against the desk, your tone teasing. “Guess I’m special.”
Spencer’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he might combust on the spot.
Emily shook her head. “Special, huh? Reid, you’re full of surprises.”
JJ smirked, adding, “Looks like someone’s got a soft spot.”
Spencer stammered, his face turning a deep shade of red. “I—it’s not—I mean, she just—uh—”
You couldn’t help but laugh, and Spencer’s flustered expression only made it harder to stop. “Relax, Spence,” you said, gently nudging his arm. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Emily and JJ exchanged a knowing look before returning to their work, leaving the two of you alone once more. You stayed there, leaning against his desk, as you asked him more questions about his magic tricks.
#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x you#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fic
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how is our little playboy bunny navigating all her apex predator clientele, I wonder
♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, hyrbid au, sex club, sex worker reader dystopian laws, subjugation
♡ FEM reader
♡ P1: Playboy Bunny
A run-down of your usual clientele?
Your most regular visitors are wolves. They come in big packs of dozens at a time. Cops. Dirty cops. They usually book a private room so that they can be as rambunctious as they want, leaving their guns and badges out on the table just to remind you of who they are.
They like their drinks bitter, their cigars fat, their stakes rare, and usually wind up depriving you of your leotard sometime during the evening when making you sit on their blue laps, passing you around between them as if you were just another piece of meat for them to share.
They can get quite loud and heavyhanded and don’t tip very well, either. So, they’re not your favorite clients. Their fur is also rough and unkempt, and after catering to all their knots, you spend the entire night tossing and turning, trying to dispel all the cum they leave in your womb.
But you know, at least they’re straightforward.
The felines are harder to read. Dogs are dogs for the most part—except for foxes—but big cats differ greatly from one another.
Lions mostly ignore you as they talk amongst themselves. Politicians, most of them. Congressmen, senators, and such. Their manes are always slicked back with gel, soft and smooth, all dressed in expensive suits steeped in cologne.
They keep you on their lap with a paw on your ass, sometimes squeezing your tail. They just want you to hold their drink and bring it up to their lips when they give you a bounce.
It’s honestly rare for them to do much else than ask you to fetch stuff like more ice or cigars. But sometimes one or two of them will have you join them someplace private. They’ll talk about the wife they have at home. Sharp-toothed and long-clawed and never in the mood to fuck anymore.
They volley with their praise, telling you how soft and sweet you are, such a good bunny rabbit for them, then switching it up with sneers, calling you a slutty little cotton-tail whore.
They scare you.
Jaguars and leopards are a bit different. Wallstreet brokers.
They’ll smooth-talk to you. Heavy on the compliments. Flirting with you and smiling when they make you blush or giggle nervously. They like that—selling it, making you want their touch.
Oh, and when they’ve gotten you really flushed and hooked, they’ll groom you. Using their sand-textured tongue to lap up all that sweet-smelling nervousness like you’re a desert. Kneading your soft parts like you’re their own personal stress-toy.
But felines are great tippers, even those who don’t use you much. You think they see it as a status thing.
Birds of prey are the same. They like to talk. Or, talk is a generous term. They’re vain creatures and will mostly ask for your opinion on their plumage and how you like their feathers—if they aren’t just the most magnificent wings you’ve ever seen in your life.
It took you a while to understand them—what type of money they were—but if the tattoos they keep on their skin are any tell, your guess is mafia.
Funny enough, they seem like one of the less dangerous types of clientele you have. They just like having fun for the most of it, always asking you to kiss their rings before they throw the dice. They’re all gambling habits and signed deals, trying to act as sophisticated as possible, even when they’ve all got freshly bloody knuckles on each visit.
But you’re a well-trained bunny, always sitting pretty and never ever asking a single stupid question that might get you in trouble.
Then there’s the hyenas, of course. They find work where they’re wanted. Candy men and loansharks, but mostly just muscle for the real mobsters.
They also come in packs and take a little too many party drugs. Always left drooling all over you, eyes blown wide and bloodshot, rutting as if they’re competing over who can do you fastest or who can do it the most times—you can’t tell—teeth bared as they sink their claws a little too deep into your flesh, almost hard enough to tear your coat and definitely enough to leave spots the boss won’t be pleased to see.
They’re bad with money and are often chased out and banned from coming again. But they have ways of earning their keep, and somehow, they’re always pardoned after a week or two and welcomed back with open arms.
And speaking of being begrudgingly welcomed. Foxes are usually considered runts—not true apex predators, but they're still allowed entry for dubious reasons.
They’re romantic, coming to the establishment in tailored suits and fresh haircuts. Yeah, they might come across as clean, but in truth, they’re scavengers who fight tooth and nail for their cut of the steak.
Blackmailers and extortionists who pawn themselves off as good-faith advisors, meanwhile running their own organization with private investigations going in every direction, always dealing in confidential information they’re not supposed to know.
They're not entirely accepted by the others but are seen for their value nonetheless, if not out of respect and fear.
A strange species, you'd say. They can play well with anyone, not just canines, making it their mission to secure a favor amongst all the big names. Silver-tongued yet sleazy all the same.
You never know what their agenda is—telling you they’ll take you away somewhere, lavish you with the lifestyle you deserve. But you know they’re just trying to get you to spill on your other clients. Surely you must have heard something interesting?
You just smile and play dumb like always—you’re just a bunny, after all, what were they expecting?
Then there are the reptiles—crocs, gators, and snakes. Lawyers, the lot of them. High-profile lawyers.
You have that in common, you suppose. All their clients are your clients, after all.
They like to boast about their winnings. Make you say, “Oh wow!” and “No way, really?”
Oh, and they love to strangle. They’re maybe the most eccentric species you serve—and the most taxing. They’ll slither their tongue in your ear, keeping their hand around your throat, feeling you kick and struggle beneath them, watching your eyes roll back as they nearly squeeze you free of life.
Somehow, they always know the exact moment to let go. And at that point, they’ve achieved their high. Paying double what they’re owed as if in shame before leaving.
Suppose some types enjoy playing with their food more than eating it.
Lastly, there’s the boss. Big Bear.
He calls himself a businessman, but he’s really just a glorified pimp.
He’s begun taking you off floor duty in favor of having you for himself. He’s always had favorites, you’re told. If you play your cards right, he might just add you to his personal harem.
You try your best to cater to him, but his grizzly cock makes your hips feel as if their dislocating each time you take him, not to mention the way he leaves you completely bedridden, feeling like the spoils of a hunt.
But unfortunately for you, despite your incompetence, he seems to have taken a liking to you.
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#yandere x reader#soft yandere#yandere#yanderecore#yandere boy#yandere x you#yandere imagines#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere insert#yandere original character#yandere oc#yandere male#male yandere#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut
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rumour has it!
trafalgar law x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic
summary: rumour has it that the surgeon of death is your boyfriend... w/c: 5.3k c/w: suggestive, secret relationship, reader wears a dress, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns.
The sun is just moments off dipping behind the horizon, the pink and orange hues meshing into subtle indigo. Since leaving the previous island, the air has been humid and sticky, but the slight breeze drifting through the Grand Line is refreshing.
The inside of the girls' quarters smells of vanilla, salt, and Robin's rosewater incense. The waves crash against the side of the ship, seaspray making its way through the ajar porthole, and you're sure Nami will scold you for leaving it open, but you're far from caring now.
The cotton sheets of your bed, a present from Robin for your birthday, are soft on your legs as you turn over for the nth time in ten minutes. You wouldn't call your current state one of grief, since he is still alive, but the rawness of your throat and the deep ache in your chest makes it seem so.
Skipping dinners and chores was enough for Nami and Robin to know there was something wrong, but you've been holed up in the room since departing the last island, and now they're positive this is more than just feeling sick.
The door slams against the wall when Nami kicks it open, a scowl on her features as she stomps over to you and rips the sheets off. You whine at the loss of cover, your body curling further in on itself as you shove your face into your pillow.
"Leave me alone."
Nami scoffs. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nami—“
"We're worried about you," Robin's soft voice comes from the doorway. "You've never skipped out on your chores for this long before."
Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut. No words leave your lips, and Nami and Robin share a concerned glance.
"Come on, dinner's ready. The crew's been waiting for you to join."
You sniffle and swallow thickly, remaining unresponsive to their words. If you were to tell them it feels as though your heart is going to explode and your limbs are lethargic because of a man, you fear they'd laugh at you.
"Has that window been open this whole time?—"
Robin says your name softly, abruptly cutting Nami off. "Please?"
You've always thought of the archaeologist as an older sister of sorts, so when she gives you an encouraging smile and a hand to take, you give in. Robin's always been more understanding than Nami, but you wouldn't trade either of them for the world.
"If this is about that rumour..."
You ignore her, your skin ablaze with apprehension at Nami's implication. The fresh air of the deck hits you in the face, and joyful screams and laughter from the galley have your stomach churning with anxiety.
"We understand if you don't want to talk about it, we know that rumours can get out of hand sometimes."
Your eyes remain on the floor while your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You're feet away from the kitchen door, and you resist the urge to run in the opposite direction.
"Seriously," Nami says, an easy laugh falling from her lips. "You can tell us anything, you know that."
Guilt bubbles under your skin, and you feel disgusted with yourself for feeling like you couldn't confide in them. You open your mouth to reply when a sharp gasp cuts you off.
"You're here!" Luffy exclaims, his contagious giggles making your lips turn upwards for the first time in a week. "I missed you!"
Suddenly, limbs are wrapped around you, and Luffy's grin presses against your cheek.
"I missed you, too," You smile and lean your head on his shoulder.
"Are you hungry?" Luffy asks, unwrapping himself from your torso. "Sanji cooked up a feast!"
And he isn't exaggerating. The cook stands before you, his eyes wide with concern as he takes your hand. "I made your favourites, mon amour."
You nod as you take in the platters and towers of food splayed on the long dining table. Brook, Franky, Jimbe, and Chopper sit on one side, and Usopp and Zoro sit on the other, all giving you reassuring smiles as you greet them.
"Thank you, Sanji."
"Anything for you, my angel!"
You take a seat beside Zoro and Luffy slides in next to you. "Let's eat!"
Dinner is as chaotic as usual, and in the week you've been hiding in your room, you've come to miss the disordered affair. Mountains of different dishes are piled onto your plate, thanks to Luffy, as Zoro pours sake into your mug. You won't be drinking tonight, but the thought that Zoro wants to share his beloved drink with you has your heart growing with warmth.
You pick up your fork and stab a piece of grilled broccoli. The flavour melts on your tongue as you chew, your gaze scanning your crewmates as they continue with their normal dinner conversations.
"So is it true?"
The room goes silent, and the only sound is the clink of Chopper's hoof on Brook's humourous. You stare into the voids of his eye sockets and swallow quickly to avoid choking on the vegetable.
"Wrong thing to say?"
Nami is the first to growl as she stands. "Yes, idiot!"
The rest of the crew groans and throws their assaults at the skeleton before he cries out.
"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry," Brook winces, his hands up in defence. "If I had a heart it would be full of remorse right now."
His usual gag makes you exhale a short laugh and the crew visibly relaxes.
"I'm fine, guys," You sigh. "I'm not going to break."
"So, Traffy, huh?" Zoro is amused, and when you look at him, he raises an eyebrow. "What? It's what we're all thinking."
"He's not wrong," Franky pipes up. "Rumour has it you're together."
"Who knew you two were such gossip?" Robin quips, a mug of tea held up to her lips. "Where'd you hear this so-called rumour?"
"Around," Usopp says, evading answering with a proper response.
"It's not true though, right?" Franky asks.
You shake your head immediately, stomach souring. "How would it be? I haven't seen that guy in forever, let alone be in a relationship with him."
"That's what I said!" Nami exclaims, slamming her hands on the wooden table. "I think I would know if my best friend had a boyfriend, especially if it were Traffy."
As the crew start discussing who they think started the rumour, you sit quietly. There's no telling who or how the rumour started, and you'd rather not think about it.
The article in the newspaper had been published a month ago, and to say it had caused waves was an understatement. With you and Law on two separate, infamous pirate crews, it was bound to affect civilians and pirates alike. The thought of the Heart Pirates and the Strawhats allying again had the world on edge, and if it was because of something as fragile as love, then it would be problematic for both sides.
You pick at your plate with no appetite. There are eyes on you from across the table, but you ignore Robin and continue moving food around with your fork. She can think all she likes, and so can the remainder of the crew, but you're not giving up your most vulnerable secret that easy; especially when the rest of the world thinks the same.
—
You have to tread lightly. Above you, a monthly meeting between the Kid Pirates, the Strawhats, and the Heart Pirates is taking place.
Nami rushes around the girls' quarters for a map she forgot before she stops and sees you at your desk. Various pens and papers are sprawled on the surface, and Nami wonders what you're writing. However, she doesn't press and scolds you instead.
"You're meant to be upstairs."
You groan and spin in the chair. "I'm busy."
Nami rolls her eyes. "Come on. This is important."
"Can't you just relay it to me when it's done?"
The newspaper and the rumour have been long forgotten. It's been two months since the dinner and a month and a half since the crew dropped the gossip, and you've been back to your old self. Nami's grateful that you're no longer affected by it, but there's something about the way your wrist flicks the pen on the page that has her suspicions surfacing again.
You mumble something she can't hear and stand. Nami furrows her eyebrows when she sees the state of you—you wear one of your nicer dresses and your eyelashes seem fuller, longer. She doesn't question it, but her mind circles back to the months-old rumour.
The walk upstairs and onto the deck is a tense one, and you feel the excitement of seeing Law swirl in your stomach. It's been a while since you've seen him, and him you, so, when the sun warms your skin and the heads of all three captains turn to the creaking door, you smile.
"Hi, everyone!" You say. "Sorry, I'm late."
Luffy brushes off your apology and grins while he tells you to sit with the crew. There are multiple sets of eyes on you, but only one makes your nerves dance.
You find a spot beside Chopper and face the other crews. The silence of your arrival slowly dissipates as the pirates start chattering again. You sigh deeply and scan the crowd. A familiar polar bear catches your attention, and you wave when Bepo meets your gaze.
The mink greets you with a warm smile, one that never fails to lighten your mood, as he nudges Penguin beside him. The pirate rubs his bicep before he realises what Bepo is saying, and then he grins, promptly whacking Shachi while doing so. It's a chain reaction, and soon, all of the Heart Pirates are waving at you from across the deck.
The more you think about it, the more the reason why the rumour was started becomes clear; you're not subtle.
Ikkaku almost squeals when she sees you, and soon she's crossing the grass to squeeze between you and Chopper.
"I've missed you," She whispers, throwing her arm over your shoulders. Chopper looks at her curiously, his head tilting as the cogs in his mind turn.
Sure, you've always been friendly with the Heart Pirates, but that's because you hailed from the same island as Law, Penguin, Bepo, and Shachi before you landed yourself in the East Blue. Simple. Definitely not because you're in love with their captain and have been for the past ten years of your life...
You refuse to think about the fact that you haven't told your crew yet, though, you're confused as to how they couldn't know. Sabaody, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, Zou, Wano... on all islands, you were attached at the hip despite trying your best to remain indifferent toward each other.
Maybe your downfall was hoping that they could figure it out themselves.
"Strawhat." His timbre is low, one you've heard countless times yet it never fails to give you goosebumps, even on the hottest of days.
"Traffy." Your captain laughs.
"May I talk to your seamstress for a minute?"
The crews fall quiet once more, and the air is thick with anticipation. A legion of owlish eyes set their sights on you, and you shift with discomfort.
Luffy nods and waves his hand in your direction. "Go ahead."
Ikkaku pats your knee before she stands and you watch her skip back to her spot beside Shachi. Law gives you an expectant look and nods his chin toward the Polar Tang.
A low whistle behind you makes you freeze and you glance at Zoro. He shrugs at your raised eyebrows, and smirks. He may not seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you know he's onto you, and from the looks the rest of your crew throw you, you know they are too.
You brush them off with a flick of your wrist and follow Law to the edge of the Sunny. He's quick to shamble you onto the Tang and lead you inside.
Once the air-tight door is shut, you release your breath.
"You okay?"
Nodding, you take a step toward him. Law watches you intently, his own shoulders relaxing.
"Come 'ere," Law mumbles, tugging you against him. You smile into his chest, your hands splayed across his back. "Missed you."
You look up at him, a smile on your lips. "Missed you more."
Law snorts and leans down, his nose brushing yours. The silence is comforting, especially when you're in it with him, a quiet kind of peace that speaks volumes without saying a word. There’s no need for conversation, no pressure to fill the air with sound. The moment stretches between you like a soft, invisible thread, binding you together without effort.
"Did you see the newspaper a few months back?" Law's voice carries an undercurrent of caution, and from the way he hesitates, you can tell he’s debating whether to bring it up. You hum, your eyes flickering briefly between his.
"The crew asked a lot of questions, but I never let it slip," You say, but there’s a tension in your words.
The need to be careful has grown more important as time passes, as the world becomes more dangerous, like a delicate dance you’ve learned to navigate without drawing too much attention. Still, the questions, the rumours, the assumptions—they're starting to take their toll.
“It shouldn't be like this,” Law murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes close briefly, as though he’s trying to block out a reality he can’t change. "But is there any other choice?"
You can hear the desperation in his words, the quiet plea for an answer that seems impossible to answer. This hidden side of you that's tucked away from prying eyes and curious minds has become both a refuge and a cage, something you never wanted it to be.
"No," You answer softly, your voice steady even as your heart tightens in your chest. "There’s no other choice."
You don't need to say more—he knows. Both of you know.
"But I’m going to tell my crew," Your voice cracks the silence, and the statement hangs in the air between you. "They're onto me."
Law exhales, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. The fear of consequences and the possibility of everything unravelling if the wrong person knows eats away at you, and from the way Law's eyes plead, you know it hurts him too.
"Of course you can," He mumbles, his voice low. "I would never tell you what you can and can't do."
His words are firm, but they don’t bring the comfort you're hoping for. You both know that telling is easy, but it’s living with the consequences of that decision that’s the hard part. It’s about what you risk losing if it all falls apart.
You lean back to look at him from a different angle, your heart beating a little faster than it should.
"But you’re scared, aren’t you?" You say quietly, knowing the answer before he even opens his mouth. You know him, you don’t need him to say it aloud.
"Yeah," He admits softly. "I am. Because I can’t lose you. But I know you don’t want to lie to them either."
There's a raw honesty to his voice that he usually keeps under lock and key when there are other people around. But when it's just you, Law is as vulnerable as he allows himself to be, which is much more than he's ever shown to anybody else.
"It’s not about them," You whisper. "Whatever happens, we need to decide what we can live with. Because if the four seas know we're each other's weakness, there goes our cover of ambiguity, and you've always been mysterious."
There’s a flicker in his eyes, a brief spark of something, and for a second, you think maybe he’s going to speak, probably some remark to dismiss the tension or shift the conversation. But instead, Law chokes out a laugh—quick and unexpected.
It is short, but it carries relief, like an exhale after holding in too much. The tension between you lifts, just slightly, in the aftermath of it. You can’t help but smile, even though the gravity of everything is still hanging just beneath the surface. The humour is a welcome distraction, a brief flicker of light in a room that’s been dark for too long.
And you suppose it has. You haven't seen Law in a few months, and every time you do, it's like the floodgates of your heart open all at once—suddenly, there’s no holding back the torrent of everything you’ve kept buried, everything you've tried to push aside. Nights crying yourself to sleep, endless days stuck in bed replaying the memories, dealing with the longing, and suffering through the unsaid words that have accumulated in the silence between your last meeting and this one.
Law moves one hand to rub the back of his neck, his usual aloofness returning, but softened with your attempt at making him laugh.
“I suppose that would make me less... mysterious,” He murmurs, regarding you with that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No one’s going to take me seriously as a captain if they know this side of me."
Rolling your eyes, you press onto your toes and press your lips against his. You giggle against his mouth when he immediately kisses back, his response urgent, as if he’s been itching for this moment, for permission to bridge the gap between the two of you.
There’s no hesitation in him now, just the raw need that’s been held back, tightly reined in for months on end. His hands find their way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer like he never wants to let go.
"They're probably waiting for us," You gasp as Law trails his mouth down your jaw. "Wondering what the hell we're doing."
Law's chuckle is dark as he continues his attack on your neck. "If they can't guess then they're dumber than they look."
Your giggle dies on your lips as Law gently pushes you against the metal wall of the Tang, his leg slipping effortlessly between yours.
"That’s a low bar," You manage through gasps. "Have you seen those guys? They think jumping in the ocean is the epitome of cleanliness."
He laughs against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Yeah, okay. But, if your crew don’t know by now, they’re either blind or still trying to figure out if the looks I give you are innocent."
You pull back slightly, glancing at him with mock seriousness. "Innocent? You just bit me on the neck, Law."
He grins, clearly enjoying himself. He ignores your comment, reality creeping back into his mind. "If they don't already know, you tell them, alright? I want you to be happy."
He looks at you like you hung the stars, and there's no other way you would wish him to look at you. You nod and kiss his cheek. "We're not that subtle, though, are we?"
Law furrows his eyebrows and recalls a time from your past, the memory making him smile prematurely. "Like the time you tried to sneak past Bepo and Penguin and knocked over an entire shelf of medical supplies?"
You wince and then laugh. "Well, they didn’t hear that, did they?"
Law tilts his head, his lips curling into that devilish grin. “I think they'd be more concerned if we weren’t doing this. I mean, what else would explain us sneaking away like this?”
You snort, trying to hold back the laugh threatening to escape. "Probably think we're plotting to steal the Sunny's meat stash. Honestly, I'd be more worried about that."
“Hey," Law's voice drops to a mockingly serious tone. "Strawhat would argue that meat is the only thing worth risking a mutiny for."
You burst into laughter, shaking your head. "Guess they really are dumber than they look if they don’t figure out what we’re up to."
"Exactly," Law says with a wink, pulling you back into him, his lips finding your neck again. "Now, stop talking, and let’s just enjoy the mystery.”
—
When you emerge from the Polar Tang, the noise hits you first—the unmistakable sounds of raucous laughter and clinking sake cups over the familiar lull of the ocean. The air is thick with the smell of grilled fish and meat, and the warm, comforting aroma of rice wine.
The moment you step onto the deck, you're greeted by the sight of Franky and Zoro having a challenge to see who can drink the most sake without passing out. Usopp’s telling a wild, drunken story that no one can fully believe (and everyone’s too tipsy to really care if it's true or not, it's funny as hell). Nami’s chatting animatedly with Robin, Ikkaku, and a few women from the Kid Pirates, all of them clearly amused by the antics happening around them. Sanji’s serving food, and from the looks of it, he’s already had a few cups of sake himself—he’s not even trying to hide the gleam in his eyes when he sees you.
Law is as calm as ever, his cold demeanour never faltering as you step into the crowded area, though you catch a flicker of amusement in his gaze. It’s as if the two of you are invisible in plain sight. You exchange a glance—silent communication, the kind that only the two of you can manage—and it’s clear: they don't seem to suspect the rumour to be true.
Zoro waves a half-empty bottle of sake at you as you step towards the group of girls, his grin slightly lopsided. "Hey, hey, you're back! What’s the deal? You two off somewhere plotting how to take the all the sake?"
Nami looks over, catching the tail end of Zoro's question, and you can practically feel the shift in the air as her eyes flicker between you and Law. Her eyebrow arches, the wheels in her head turning. She throws you an exaggerated eye roll, but there's something different in the way she does it now—a knowing, almost playful glint in her eyes.
"Ugh, you guys are too much," She says with a knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips. "That rumour doesn't seem so far-fetched now, does it?"
Seems your crew is a lot sharper than you wished they were.
“Wait, what?” Zoro squints at the two of you as though trying to piece it together. “Are you saying these two really have something goin' on? Thought it was just a dumb rumour..."
Nami’s grin only widens, her arms crossing as she watches you squirm under the weight of her gaze. “Oh, Zoro, you really haven’t figured it out yet? Please, it’s obvious. All the sneaking off when we meet with the Heart Pirates, the looks they give each other when they think no one’s paying attention, her constant sulking when we part from them—come on, you’re not that dense.”
You freeze as Nami starts listing off what seems to be a mental list. Had you really been that naive to think she wouldn't know? Your eyebrows triangulate as you try to catch her gaze, your eyes full of regret. Nami smiles softly when she sees the look and waves her hand. You know she'd never use this against you, but you can see the flicker of hurt in her amber eyes.
Maybe you underestimated your crew's observation skills, or maybe you deemed yourself unworthy of being the centre of attention. Whatever it is, it's making you uneasy.
On the other side of the deck, the volume of chatter softens. The Kid Pirates may not have been paying much attention to the earlier drama, but now they’re looking at you, and every single one of them has just become aware of the situation. Especially Kid, who raises an eyebrow in your direction, leaning forward slightly.
Your heart skips a beat when you realise they have also figured it out, and then the whole keeping it between your two crews turns into the Kid Pirates knowing too. Panic rises in your chest when you register the severity of the situation—if they know, then how easy is it for strangers to do the same?
"Wait, you two...?” Kid starts, his voice rough and a little too loud. His gaze flickers between you and Law, then back at his crew, who are clearly picking up on the vibe. "Huh. That’s not a surprise, but I guess it explains the newspaper thing."
Killer’s grin widens, a knowing glint in his eyes. "So the rumour was true?"
But Law, ever the picture of composure, only tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"It’s really not that interesting," He says dryly, arms folding across his chest.
Kid is unimpressed with Law's deflection, his eyes flicking back to the rest of the crews, who are now too interested in the drama to look anywhere else. "Guess that rumour was right, after all. Kinda figured you two had something going on, especially after that time you both disappeared on Sabaody while the fight was going on."
You stare at Kid, trying not to let your face betray how uncomfortable the situation has become. "That had nothing to do with this."
The laughter, the teasing, the questions—everything starts to blur together, an overwhelming rush of voices and jabs that twist around in your head, all at once. Your heart hammers in your chest as you struggle to keep up with the rapid-fire chatter.
"That long?" A shocked cry comes from the other side of the deck. Sanji's dramatic approach is unmistakable, his wide eyes filled with genuine concern as he rushes over, his steps quick but careful, like he's about to witness something catastrophic. “You two... really?”
You inhale sharply, trying to steady yourself, but your breath feels shallow, trapped in your throat. The reality of the situation hits you all at once. The entire crew—your family—along with your second family, and the Kid Pirates are staring at you, waiting for some reaction, some explanation.
"Enough."
Law’s voice cuts through the haze, louder than anything you’ve heard in the past few minutes, sharp and commanding enough to grab your attention. It’s like the snap of a whip, but it doesn’t feel threatening—just firm, steady, the sound of someone who’s done with the chaos and isn’t going to let it continue.
The silence is immediate.
"We were going to tell you soon," You say, voice quiet. “But I just don't want to whole world to know, you know, considering the positions of everyone here.”
"Wait," Usopp says, finally grasping the situation. "Are you telling me the rumour has been true this whole time? You’re… you’re really together? And we didn’t notice?!"
“What?” Luffy blurts out, voice high and incredulous. "You two? Together?" He tilts his head, processing the words at lightning speed, then grins ear-to-ear as if he’s just solved the greatest mystery in pirate history. “That’s awesome! I knew it! I knew you two were up to something! You’ve been acting all sneaky, like when I steal food and nobody sees me! I can tell, you know?!”
Nami opens her mouth to scold Luffy but is cut off by Robin.
"Interesting," She says, but there's no judgment in her tone—just an almost quiet understanding. “I must admit, I’m curious as to how long this has been going on. You both hide it so well.”
Her gaze lingers on you and then shifts to Law. The curiosity in her voice is gentle, like a conversation you might have over a quiet cup of tea. She’s not pressing for answers; she’s just acknowledging the truth without making a big deal out of it. There’s no teasing, no grand statement, just that calm acceptance that feels like an anchor in the middle of the storm that’s just hit the Sunny.
“Few years,” Comes your vague answer, but it satisfies Robin nonetheless.
“I’m glad you both are happy," the archaeologist says simply, and there’s a softness in her eyes that makes you feel like she truly means it. Your honorary big sister approves of your relationship, and it makes tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Don’t worry about the others too much. They’ll adjust. Just take your time.”
“Adjust, my ass,” Zoro quips, crossing his arms with a sigh, his voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. “So you two were just playing it cool while the rest of us looked like idiots? And you still managed to dodge all my questions? Impressive—"
A loud, exaggerated "yohohoho!" from the back of the crowd echoes across the grass, interrupting Zoro. You glance at Brook, who had been standing somewhat aloof in the corner, a wide grin plastered across his skeletal face. His arms are thrown dramatically into the air like he’s just witnessed the most epic romance of the century.
“Well, well, well, it seems that true love has bloomed!” He says, his voice full of glee and a touch of theatrical flair. “I can see it now!” Brook continues, hands raised to the sky. “'The Pirate King’s Crew: A Hidden Love Unveiled!' A ballad of passion! A symphony of suspense!” He pauses dramatically, looking back at you and Law with a gleam in his eye. “You two should definitely star in it... or, perhaps, just provide the inspiration. Yohohoho!"
“I’m glad someone’s enjoying this,” You say with an uninhibited giggle.
Law shakes his head, though he’s clearly amused by the skeleton’s antics. "If he writes a song about us, I'm throwing him off the ship."
“Oh, don’t worry, captain!” Brook says brightly. “I’ll make sure the song is perfectly respectful! There will be no disrespectful verses in this one! It’ll be a tale of true love!”
Nami facepalms and ignores the musician. “I told you guys they were too subtle. You seriously think you can get away with anything with me around?” Her eyes flick to Law. "But I’m guessing you didn’t exactly want to make this public right now. And with Kid's crew around, I can see why."
“Hey!—”
“It wasn’t about hiding it forever,” Law cuts in, his voice steady and calm. “We just didn’t want to deal with the... complications. Not with everyone constantly looking over our shoulders.”
“So I assume Law’s crew has known for a lot longer than we have?” Robin says. “Considering you’ve known them since childhood?”
"I'm sorry." Your nod is sheepish, though there’s no anger, only mild surprise from your crew.
“We didn’t mean to keep it from you guys…” Bepo calls from his spot on the bow with Shachi and Penguin. “It was just... well, her and Law’s business, you know?”
“We’d rather keep this under wraps,” Law announces, his glare pointed at Kid. “So don’t go running your mouth, got it?”
Kid throws his arms up in defence, a smug chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t care that much anyway, Trafalgar. No need to get your panties in a twist.”
“Got it!” Luffy laughs, shoving a hunk of meat into his mouth. You trust your captain with your life, so his easy answer is enough for you.
Law tuts and turns to you. He looks slightly pale at the realisation that people know, but the relief in his posture is evident.
There’s an air of collective understanding in the air as the chatter starts up again. Usopp is back telling his stories to the women, and Zoro throws another empty sake bottle at Franky’s feet before the cyborg can finish his drink.
You wish to explain your side to Nami, but she looks content sipping on her cocktail and conversing with the Kid Pirates. You'd tell her all about it when this meeting is over and you have a clearer head.
“Well, now that that’s settled,” You say, turning to Law with a smirk. “How about we finally get some rest?”
“And give them more ammunition?” Law asks, the corners of his lips curling into a smile.
You sigh, glancing back at your crew. “Not like we’ll escape it ever again…”
And as you look around at your family, both the Straw Hats and the Heart Pirates, as well as the Kid Pirates, who are revelling in the gossip, you can’t help but feel a warm sense of relief. It’s out there now. No more secrets, no more hiding.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#— ann writes!#trafalgar law#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar d water law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#law x reader#law one piece#one piece#one piece x reader
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SHUT UP MOM
James Potter x Reader



WARNINGS: nothing just fluff, FEM!R but no use of Y/n, this is based on the tiktok trend, dilf!James + protective brother-in-law Sirius bc we love them, noVoldemort!au.
English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

"Harry are you sure?"
"I'm sure mom, after all, what could happen?"
You shrugged, looking at your son with a look of uncertainty.
"I don't know, darling... You're not the kind of person who would do that and i wouldn't want James to take it badly..."
"Mom" Harry said. "Knowing dad i honestly think he'll probably be too busy snogging you to care how i talk to you so i don't think our little prank will be successful"
You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at his words and smiled sheepishly.
"Harry James Potter!"
Harry chuckled and before you could give him a little swat on the shoulder, he deftly dodged you and ran into the living room.
-
The little prank in question was born from Harry's simple curiosity, who one day was thinking about the love life of his beloved parents and wondered how his father would've reacted if he responded badly to his mother.
Harry's idea didn't seem particularly intelligent to you, but you still decided to play along since by now your curiosity about James' reaction had also been stimulated. So as you and your son agreed, on that same evening everything was ready.
The only thing you hadn't taken into account was the presence of Sirius and Remus, who had been invited to dinner by James at the last moment, but Harry wasn't discouraged.
At that moment, all of you were in the living room: you and James were sitting on the sofa next to each other, with his arm around your shoulders holding you close to him; Remus occupied the seat in the armchair and while he read the Daily Prophet, he also managed to listen to the conversation, occasionally interjecting and giving his opinion; Sirius, on the other hand, was smoking a cigarette standing at the window, since he preferred not to fill the room with the smell of smoke (you always told him that it wasn't a problem if he smoked in the house, but everyone knew arguing with Sirius was useless and so you let him do it).
While James and Sirius chatted animatedly, you noticed Harry coming down the stairs and that was your cue to start the prank.
"Harry, darling" you called, poking your head out of the couch cushion. "Could you set the table, please?"
"I can't, i have to write Ron and Hermione's letters" he said hastily, while pretending to look for what he needed to write letters to his friends.
"You can do it later" you replied calmly. "You could set the table first and then-"
"Mom shut up"
Harry interrupted you abruptly and so the bomb was dropped. Three voices rose immediately after his comment.
"I beg your pardon!?" James'.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Remus'.
"Oi!" Sirius'.
Harry thought it would've been fun to see James' reaction, but when he found the wide eyes of all three of the Marauders, plus yours, trained on him, he realized that maybe you were right and that this hadn't been a good idea.
In a split second, before you could even stop him, James jumped up and marched towards him. But what shocked you and Harry more was the fact that even Sirius himself had moved away from the window, after having put out the cigarette he hadn't even finished, to join James. Remus simply closed the newspaper and gave you a worried look, remaining silently seated in the armchair.
"Excuse me? Could you repeat that please?" James asked menacingly. "And could you also tell me where you learned that tone, because i know for a fact that none of the people in this room taught it to you, young man"
"Harry James Potter!" Sirius' voice boomed, coming to stand beside your husband. "If you think that just because i'm your godfather i'll let it slide after you talked to your mother like that, you're sorely mistaken"
Harry backed away hastily, intimidated by the two men who at that moment seemed not angry, but downright furious.
"Dad, Sirius-" he tried to say, but the latter interrupted him.
"Apologize to her" Sirius ordered, pointing a ringed finger at him and then pointing at your figure who was watching them from the sofa. "Now"
It was in that moment that you and Harry realized that the one in front of him was no longer his godfather, the chill and fun step-uncle who allowed him to do anything behind your and James' backs. In that instant, Sirius was your brother-in-law, the one who could be considered like James's blood brother and who had taken you under his wing since you had come into contact with the Marauders, loving and protecting you as if you were the sister he never had. And even though Sirius loved Harry as if he were his own son, there was no way he could let him act that way towards you. And James absolutely had no problems about it.
Harry swallowed nervously and James crossed his mighty arms, looking at him almost defiantly, as if he was waiting for Harry to have the courage to snap at you again.
But luckily for him, Harry heard your sweet voice echoing shyly in the living room.
"James, Sirius" you called, standing up. "It was a joke"
James and Sirius turned to look at you.
"What?" your husband asked, still not convinced.
You clasped your hands in front of you.
"It was a joke, honey. Harry and i planned it this afternoon. Don't get angry with him"
The two turned back to Harry.
"Is it true?" James asked again and you felt his tone of voice slightly relax.
Harry nodded frantically.
"I swear, dad. You know i'd never treat mom like that"
James and Sirius were silent for a few seconds until they let out breaths of relief.
"You're lucky, kid. Merlin's beard..." Sirius said, shaking his head with a small smile. "You almost gave me a heart attack, you know?"
"Harry" James called him back. "Why did you do that?"
While Sirius walked away taking another cigarette from his pack, deciding that it was ideal to release the tension that that prank had caused him, Harry lowered his gaze to the floor, embarrassed.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry. I just wondered how you would've reacted if i talked back to Mom. It was an innocent joke"
James let out a chuckle and ruffled his hair with one hand.
"An innocent joke, but a bit of a stupid one. And now you know that if you do it again, which i doubt because it's not like you, it will be Sirius you'll have to worry about, hm? But i won't be any less either"
All of you except Harry let out a small giggle and Sirius walked past you, leaving a quick kiss on your forehead, before lighting his new cigarette.
"If i ever hear you use that tone again, know that i will take away your title of my favorite nephew, my dear Harry" Sirius murmured, his lips tightened around his cigarette.
"But i'm your only nephew, Sirius" your son retorted, finally with a smile on his face too.
"And i'm proud of it" continued the other. "So don't make me change my mind, understood?"
You approached James and Harry and the latter gave you a hug, which you immediately returned, stroking his hair.
"For a moment i was afraid i was going to die" Harry whispered close to your ear and you giggled, pressing a kiss into his hair.
"Well!" James clapped his hands for attention. "Now as punishment, my dear son, you will set the table"
Harry nodded.
"Without using magic"
Harry groaned and it was at that moment that Remus stood up too.
"Come on Harry, i'll help you"
Harry gave him a grateful smile and after the two had moved towards the kitchen, James wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you with your back against his chest.
"My love, why do you always encourage him when he proposes those stupid things?" he murmured, turning his face to leave a few kisses on your cheek.
You smiled, clasping your hands over his.
"It's not my fault" you replied innocently. "You guys were like that too at his age, if not worse. He got everything from you"
"Mhh"
James mumbled something against your skin, probably to say it wasn't true, but you ignored him and exchanged a look with Sirius, who blew smoke out the window with an amused smile.

#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders fic#marauders fanfiction#marauders x fem!reader#marauders x y/n#marauders x you#marauders x reader#james potter x you#james potter x reader#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter fic#james potter#james potter x fem!reader#dad james potter#dad!james potter#harry potter fic#harry potter x reader#hp x reader#harry james potter x reader
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Hot Off The Press
DESCRIPTION: Their reaction when you end up in the newspaper unexpectedly
WARNINGS: none, implications of crushes
CHARACTERS: Law, Smoker
WORDS: 1,730
A/N: Just a silly idea that came to mind that I wanted to explore with a couple of the One Piece guys. I had fun doing this and may do more at some stage with other characters in this scenario. Hope you all enjoy what I came up with
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST
————————
LAW
Unlike some of the other pirates around, Law kept up with the news and goings on in the world regardless of if there was an inkling his or the crews bounties would go up or not. He needed to be aware of everything going on at all times in order to plan the best course of action and leave very little room for surprises should the next island he came to be already in the middle of some drama that could be either avoided or exploited. One morning he walked into the dining room of the Polar Tang to join the rest of the crew for breakfast. Grabbing his morning coffee he took his usual seat and flicked open the paper, beginning to leisurely read through it while enjoying idle conversation with the rest of the crew.
“Hey Captain can I-” Penguin’s question was cut off immediately when Law was already pulling out the so-called ‘entertainment' section of the paper and passed it across the table. That was the one section he felt was an entire waste of paper and ink and only glanced at just incase something of note had slipped through. Most of the time though? Even the barest glance felt like a handful of seconds he’d never get back due to the pointless garbage written on the pages. “Thank Cap!” Law gave a non-committal grunt in acknowledgement to his subordinate’s thanks and trained his attention instead into a story about political unrest affecting two neighbouring islands.
Unfortunately his focus was interrupted when Penguin suddenly let out a gasp just as he was taking a bite of his breakfast causing him to choke. Law set his paper down and rose sharply, making his way directly to his friend. It was a relief that in that time Law approached, Penguin had managed to dislodge the food and caught his breath. “Oi, why didn’t you chew? Nearly gave us a heart attack!” Law lectured, using his relief to fuel his panicked lecture. Penguin nervously shifted in his seat and with another clearing of his throat he shakily turned over the entertainment section to show Law and the others what had caused his mishap. Law’s eyes dropped to the print and they widened, sharply snatching it from the table just as you walked in with a long yawn breaking from your lips. “Mornin’ guys…”
When no-one answered you blinked and frowned at the group in confusion. Stepping closer you looked over Law’s shoulder to see what had gotten his and everyone else’s attention. Similar to Law, your eyes bugged and you pulled his arm towards you so you could get a better look, as iff the extra inch of space would make the page change from what you couldn’t believe you were seeing. First was the eye-popping headline “HOT PIRATE OF THE WEEK: HEART PIRATES’ HEARTBREAKER!” Filling the page were images of you standing on the dock of the Polar Tang on one of the occasions the sub had surfaced and you were performing maintenance on the vessel.
Slowly you remembered that day. It had been so hot that you had to undo the top of your boiler suit and tie the sleeves around your waist to reveal the tank top you'd been wearing underneath. Your skin was lightly sheened with sweat and cheek smeared with a small streak of oil. Nervously you rubbed the back of your neck as you looked over the images, you were just doing your job but somehow the photographer had managed to take countless photos, all of them very flattering. It did unnerve you slightly to think that everyone would see you like this along with cheesy one-liners of ‘they can perform maintenance on me any day,’ ‘tune me up,’ ‘let’s let off some steam,’ and your favourite ‘Captain Law, can we join your crew?’
Nervously you chewed your lip and looked away to finally see your Captain’s reaction, fearing he would lecture you. Instead it surprised you to see the back of his neck and his cheeks were tinged a very noticeable pink as his eyes were glued to your pictures. Unable to help yourself you couldn’t help but smile slightly, pleased and a little giddy that he was looking appreciatively. Still you needed to break the silent tension. “I’m surprised they got my good side.”
“You stupid? Every side is your good side.” Law asked suddenly, his mouth acting while his brain was still distracted. Your eyes widened and lit in shock at Law’s words, your smile growing when realisation hit your usually serious Captain that he’d said it aloud. Flustered and unable to recover, Law swiftly turned and left the room to the safety of his office and you grinned wider to notice he’d kept a firm hold on the paper as he left.
SMOKER
Something strange was happening at G5 and it was pissing Smoker off to no end. Every few minutes calls and missives came through, the influx a lot more than normal. The usual missions and reports were overwhelmed with transfer requests coming from all sections of the world’s seas. Part of him thought it was a well co-ordinated prank being pulled on him from the different divisions by very bored and motivated Marines that he must have angered in some way. This had to have been a prank or revenge it had to. There was no way all these requests to come to G5 was genuine.
It hadn’t even reached mid-morning yet and what little patience he had was gone when the next transfer request came through. Angrily Smoker slammed his hand down on his desk and rose from his desk, having had more than enough nonsense to last him a lifetime. If he stayed in his office for much longer, he’d be driven to making his own transfer request to get away from it all. Needing a distraction to clear his head, Smoker began to walk aimlessly in search of what seemed like the quietest section of the base. In his mind he thought if it was quiet then that meant there would be no-one around to pester him.
“Smoker!” Smoker came to an abrupt halt and turned his head sharply to see you approach him, your pace quickened and expression just as frustrated and annoyed as he was. Your own sour mood was probably why you weren’t trying to stay out of his way. Now finding his distraction, Smoker faced you properly. You huffed out a sharp breath, relieved that the commander had finally snapped out of whatever he was thinking about and stopped long enough for you to catch up and stop in front of him. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”
“Wasn’t paying attention to anything really.” Smoker explained, only now noticing his cigars had burned to nothing. Grabbing two more from his jacket he lit them and placed them into his mouth, taking a fresh inhale of the nicotine helping to make him more grounded. Releasing the breath of smoke, he used his ability to direct it away from your face as he focussed his attention on you. “So what did you need?”
“Just a general inquiry.” You began while trying to control your anger while it was still fresh. In a base full of short fuses you at least tried to stay levelheaded around your commander. You took a slow breath and looked to him, still unable to keep the scowl from your face. “How much trouble would I get in for beating up a newspaper employee?”
“Not like you to get so hotheaded about journalists…” You let out a bitter scoff at the word ‘journalist’ and your hand holding the rolled up paper tightened to the point the paper crinkled loud enough to make Smoker’s gaze drop from your face. “What’s been reported?”
“You haven’t seen it?” You asked, momentarily confused. You thought everyone else had. Or was he acting dumb on purpose so you would have to relive your embarrassment in realtime in front of him. Deep down you knew that wasn't Smoker’s nature, and his mirrored look of confusion confirmed that. With a sigh you lifted your hand, offering the rolled up paper to him.
Smoker lightly tugged the paper out of your reluctant grip and let it unfurl. Knowing this had to be personal for you he flicked through the pages in search of the cause for your wish to cause harm to a civilian. Finally he found it, or rather it practically jumped out at him when he turned the page. Your image filled the page, the photo capturing you mid-battle. One foot had connected with the blurred shape of a pirate while your body was arched, your weapon in hand and aimed at another enemy. Smoker took in your form, eyebrows raised at how poised and strong you were. What got him the most was the fearsome, intense edge lighting your eyes, your focus entirely on stopping the pirates that had tried to ransack a village. All in all it was an extremely flattering story about your heroism and undeniable strength. Yes, there were some comments about your attractiveness but Smoker couldn’t exactly argue, not when the facts were so clearly staring him in the face-both on paper and in person.
Finally Smoker’s eyes zeroed in on how the story piece stated you were a part of the G5 base and he let out a huff of frustration and amusement. So this was the reason for his morning-long headache. “You just have to live with it. There’ll be a different story by tomorrow.” Smoker shrugged calmly and handed the paper back to you. “Don’t let something like this bother you. Okay?”
“It’s embarrassing.” You grumbled. “Why did they have to fill a page with my picture? Why even use my picture at all?”
“Why not? It looks good.” Your head snapped up at Smoker’s murmured comment, eyes widened and heat prickling the back of your neck. He looked completely composed and stoic, acting as if he hadn’t said anything at all but you knew what you heard. Instead he lightly tapped your shoulder and started to head back towards his office, idly calling after you as he went. “If you’ll excuse me I have transfer requests to formally reject. Just keep up the good work.”
——————————————-
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#one piece#one piece fic#one piece imagines#one piece scenario#one piece x you#one piece x reader#one piece fanfiction#law x reader#smoker x reader#trafalgar law x reader#vice admiral smoker x reader#trafalgar law x you#law op#trafalgar law#law one piece#one piece law#op law#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar one piece#trafalgar op#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgar d law x you#white hunter smoker#one piece smoker#smoker op#op smoker#smoker one piece
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Taking a random office job should have been simple. The only reason you even joined was the staggeringly high pay. Which sure, it didn’t make much sense at first.
But then you realized this was a company full of monsters…
The laws you were used to simply didn’t exist because it was under the jurisdiction of the monster society. What the company could do is apply a rule that the human workers, particularly the females, couldn’t be touched if they were under a certain weight.
You in particular were directly on the protected weight line. It could be a little unnerving at times.
That meant listening to Runuc, an orc in accounting who you frequently work with, saying how bad he wanted to hear you moaning. It meant ignoring Hogarth, a minotaur in marketing who often had to give you files, muttering a near constant stream of what positions he wanted to put you in. It meant looking the other way as innocently as possible when the janitor, a vaguely fur-covered monster named Jay, mentioned how there wouldn’t be any mess to clean up if he bred you…
It meant not saying anything when you passed by your boss’s office, not saying anything as he… it? slipped a tentacle juuuust under your skirt to brush your ass.
You couldn’t help but feel at your wits end with this job. It wasn’t enough to be barely protected. Not when the monsters you worked with, especially the ones you worked closely with, were rather attractive. Not when office flings were completely on the table, when the monsters could have their way with you if you were just a little heavier.
And especially not with the endless chatter of your more petite coworkers jealously eyeing you and your fellow chubby coworkers.
What kind of office had you really signed up for?
#monster x reader#monster#monster boyfriend#monster fucker#monster fudger#monster x human#weight limit#terato#teratophillia#monster bf#monster lover
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A prompt came into mind.. up to you if you're interested.
So, character and reader got married but character cheated because he said he doesn't love the reader anymore. They're technically done, but haven't finished doing the divorce files (because it's expensive and takes a long long time). But.. character got into an accident.. which made him forget everything that happened recently, and only remember the days he loved the reader. Reader's conflicted, the mistress that character has doesn't know what to do either. Character was confused on why he would marry anyone else when he has the reader fo begin with.
I think this fits your styles.
Btw, I LOVE ALL YOUR STORIES! I RE-READ THEM EVERYDAY-
Someone Better
Childe x Fem!Reader
Summary: Childe was a wild spirit, so when he got bored of your relationship, he sought the excitement of another woman. You were heartbroken, ultimately asking for a divorce. But just as your connection was almost severed, he got into an accident, losing every memory of his infidelity and returning to the man that made you fall in love him.
Tags: Cheating, Amnesia, Pining, Angst/No Comfort
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
You were staring at the tremendous amount of divorce paperwork sitting on the desk of your hotel room.
It was very complicated, five years of marriage with joined insurance, property, bank accounts, and now you have to meticulously separate all your joined assets, all while constantly on the verge of a breakdown.
Not to mention you had no family to stay with in Snezhnaya. There's absolutely no one you could talk to about everything, you've left your homeland thinking your future in the cold nation with the love of your life would be nothing less that fantasy.
As you rest your head on the desk and closed your eyes tightly to ease the headache, your ears perk up as loud knocks hit your door.
With a groan, you got up and opened it to reveal your two of Childe's older siblings.
"He's looking for you." The older sister said, Alevtina, her seriousness evident, looking at you somewhat panicked.
"I know, big si-" I paused for a moment, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. "I'm working on the assets, I'll send it as soon as possible."
"No." The chilly tone of the older brother, Alexei, sent shivers down your spine. "You need to come with us."
...
"Big sister Y/N is here?" You hear Teucer's innocent voice as you enter their home. The younger children laid their eyes on you, seemingly eager to come closer, but perhaps they've been told that now would not be the time.
"Honey... Thank you for coming..." Their mother embraced you warmly, still accepting you with motherly affection. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry..."
"Mama, has he calmed down?" Alexei asked from behind you.
Your mother-in-law parts from you slightly, looking at you tenderly. "She will definitely help."
You put your confusion and questions aside, seeing the somewhat tense air within the house.
"Stop staring." You weren't looking at him, but you felt his eyes watching you set down a tray of soup and medicine on his bedside table.
Childe lets out a chuckle. "Sorry, love, I can't help it..." His eyes never faltered, containing a look of admiration that you've been unfamiliar with for so long.
"After the avalanche, I got a pretty bad head injury. When I woke up, you were the first thing on my mind. And when Mama said you weren't here with me, I freaked out."
You sat down on a chair next to his bed, your eyes observing the bandages wrapped around his head. "What did the doctor say about your injury?"
"I'm gonna get some very bad headaches, and I also got a bit of amnesia, I think." Childe looks as if he's in thought. "Do I seem like I forgot something?"
"Maybe some things..."
"But I love you just the same! So I bet what I forgot wasn't even that important!"
...How cruel.
Having to take care of the man that broke you apart, even worse, a version of him that you loved too much to despise.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
It was painful, staying with him.
Childe would keep you close, call you his different pet names, cuddle up to you, all while you were under the pitiful gaze of his family that knew of his infidelity.
On the other hand, he's been feeling the cold responses his advances have been receiving. But to him, he thinks he can solve it by smothering you in more of his love.
He is pretty observant, he's put it two in two together that he may be missing a memory in which he had done something wrong. He just didn't know how much it had hurt.
Though, not only from you, Childe had also felt that his younger siblings seem distant as well, no longer asking him to play snow games outside, or looking up to him as some sort of hero.
One early morning, when he walks up to the kitchen to see you cooking for the whole family, a smile formed on his face.
He steps closer, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. "Hmmm... Morning, honey..." He basks in the feeling of you.
You remain quiet, letting him do as he pleases. The ginger frowns, however, feeling unsatisfied by your lack of reaction.
"Babyyyy... Loveee meee backkkk..." He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck.
"Ajax, come on..." You stifled a laugh, moving slightly away as his action tickled you. He hears the slight giggle of your words, smiling against your skin.
You compose yourself, pushing him away from you. "Stop." He lets you push him away, and you feel him freeze slightly at the harshness of your tone.
His blue eyes looked at you worried. "...Hey," He starts. "I'm sorry, darling, did you not like that?"
With a sigh, you looked down. "When the others wake up, tell them I already made breakfast. I have somewhere to be."
You walk pass him, but you did not miss the hurt tone of the faint call of your name.
...
You come back to his family's home after doing some more paperwork for the divorce that your husband doesn't even remember, feeling your head pounding as you ready yourself to face him again.
What you don't expect to see this late at night is Childe sitting on the porch with a lantern next to him, his head hung low as if he's thinking deeply.
"Childe?"
He looks up, but he frowns at you. "Ajax, darling..." He reminds you.
Standing up, he pulls you into his warm embrace. "I love you... I missed you..."
His words take you aback, as you reluctantly wrap your arms around him.
"I've been thinking about this morning, about you. You hate me."
"I know I must've done something... you can tell me." He kneels in front of you, staring at your eyes while his sparkle with the light of the lantern. "And even if I don't remember, I'll make it right..."
As you look down at him, you see the fiery passion of love that burned in his eyes as he knelt down to ask you to marry him so long ago.
It scares you...
You might not be able to control yourself...
"It's just hard to take care of you sometimes." You smile ever so slightly, yet his frown only deepens as tears start to escape your eyes.
He stands, his hand finds its way to your cheek. "Love..." His eyes held such conviction that you've not seen for years. "I'm so sorry..."
You close your eyes to hold in the tears, shaking your head and swaying his hand away. "...You're not."
Despite the tears, you tug at his arm. "Come on, let's head inside."
He's filled with questions, but seeing your sad face makes him set all those aside and focus on you for now.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
"Teucer, hey, little man." Childe calls for his little brother.
The little boy looks at him wide eyed. "I don't want to talk to you." He crossed his little arms, turning around to leave with a displeased look.
"What...? Oh come on..." The harbinger pouted, getting down on his little brother's level. "What did I do wrong...? All our siblings are acting so mean to me..." He whined, frowning as he tries to persuade the little ginger.
"But you were also very very mean!" Teucer refused to look at his older brother, the one he used to look up to the most. "We don't like you anymore!"
Childe's playful facade faded as his expression contorted to a confused one. "Hey, what do you mean...?"
"You're so mean to Y/N, you hurt her! She doesn't deserve tha-"
"Teucer!" Just as his brother erupted to a crying mess, screaming at him with all his little heart, their mother walked into the room, grabbing the little boy.
"Don't talk like that to your elders!"
"But it's true, Mama!"
"That doesn't matter, say sorry to-"
"What does he mean, Mama? Why did I do?" Childe looked at his mother expectantly, his voice starting to shake as he saw the fit of rage Teucer had because of him. "W-What did I do to Y/N?"
HIs mother shook her head, trying to ease her expression with a smile. "Nothing..."
"It's not nothing, Mama!" He raises his voice by accident due to his frustration. "I see it, the way she looks at me, it's different. The way you all look at me, like you have a monster inside your house."
Teucer forced his way out of his mother's hold, running to his older siblings room all teary eyed. Childe felt bad, but he desperately needed answers from his mother.
"Mama, please, I need to know why Y/N doesn't... love me anymore..." It hurts him to say, but based on the way you're acting, he could only make the assumption that your feelings have wavered.
"Oh, Ajax... it's not like that..."
The ginger then felt a sharp pain in his head, making him fall down onto the couch. He groaned as he clutched his head.
"Hey... where are you heading off to so late at night?" He hears your soft voice in a static audio playing in his head.
"Out." He then hears himself replying coldly.
"Ohh, when will you-"
He's out the door before you could even finish your question.
"Ajax, honey!' His mother's voice was a hazy blur as he keeps his eyes closed to envision what he's hearing in his head.
He tries to shake the feeling away, but his mind is flooded by fragmented memories.
"You've been going out a lot more recently." Your concerned voice entered his ears.
"I've been busy."
"Busy where?"
He then hears shatters of glass and yells as you sob while trying to talk to him.
He pictures your face, your crying, begging face, asking for some sort of salvation from his cold and merciless actions.
"T-There's someone else?"
"Someone better."
"H-How could y-you do this?"
"When I look at you now... I feel... nothing."
Childe opened his eyes, not realizing that tears had started to flow to his cheeks. "Mama..."
"Y-Yes, dear?"
"I hurt her..." He was in a state of disbelief. "I-I... Why...?"
His tears fell faster, looking at his mother for answers. "W-Why, Mama? Why was I so stupid? Why did I choose to lose her?"
"I don't know, dear, but that's simply what happened, and you could never make her forget that, even if you forgot."
His breathing started to accelerate, feeling like he wanted to punch himself. As his head started spinning, his vision turns black.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
You took a deep breath as you walked into the house, feeling everyone's eyes on you as you entered.
"Honey..." Your ex mother-in-law embraces you once again, holding you tight. "I'm so sorry... I didn't want to make it difficult for you..."
"N-No, no..." You returned her hug, sniffling as you start to tear up. "I readied myself for this, I'm just here to drop off the final papers..."
"Could you talk to him?" Alevtina suddenly asked, looking at you hesitantly. "I know he's been a jerk... but he won't eat unless he talks to you."
You parted from their mother, feeling the pressure of their request.
"It's okay to curse him, or to scream, or rough him up, I'll even help you." Alexei placed his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.
You nodded, sighing as they guided you to his room. And as you entered with a heavy feeling in your chest, he immediately sat up, alerted by your presence. You stare at each other for a bit before you muttered a word.
"Hi." You greeted him shortly.
"Hey..." His voice was soft, and his eyes followed you attentively.
"I'm sorry to intrude, I'll make this quick." You breathe deeply, trying to relax yourself. "I finished the papers, split the assets, got the lawyers."
"I talked to her, y-your woman..." You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. Childe seemed unfazed by it, though his gaze seem to falter at the mention of 'his woman'.
"She... umm... wasn't really interested anymore after the accident..." You breathe heavily, feeling small under his gaze. "But... your family's here to take care of you..."
Clearing your throat, you continued. "I do have one request, if I could... I would like a safe boat ride back home." You stepped closer, intending to hand him the envelope that contained all the paperwork to finalize your divorce.
"Take it all." You stopped in your tracks as he spoke.
"The house, the mora, the boat. It's all yours..." He lays back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Would you also do me a favor?"
You looked at him, encouraging him to speak.
"Carve my heart out and take it with you."
"...Can we be serious for a second?" You sighed.
"I would like to stay with you. I think that would be a good way to do it without constantly wanting to punch myself." You noticed that his eyes started to flood with tears.
"Ajax... I'm sorry this happened to you..."
"No, Y/N, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything." He sat up again, tears falling from his eyes as he looks up at you with genuine eyes. "I don't know why I did that. And I... I regret it so much..." He reached for your hand, and you let him hold onto you for strength.
"Every tear I had in me I already cried when you left me for her." You smiled bitterly, though you remained soft, making him even more guilty as you try to stay strong. "But I appreciate the apology..."
You pull your hand away from him slowly, feeling that he was reluctant to let go.
"I-I still love you..."
You gave him a final smile. "You'll love someone better than me... Childe..." You back away, leaving him alone in his room still yearning for the days where his memory only consisted of loving you.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Hiiii again after quite a while! I think I've been noticing that my recent fics have been angst, I guess I just feel like hurting you guys this season of giving (I give pain :D)
Anywayy, anon, I think at some point I went my own direction and didn't fully stick to your request (I'm sorryyy TvT) but I hope you like it anyway!
#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact angst#genshin angst#childe angst#childe x reader#genshin impact childe
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More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰
Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader
A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.
Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues
[First part]
The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."
Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.
Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."
"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.
Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.
"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.
Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.
"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."
Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."
Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.
Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#terato#teratophillia#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#monster imagine#monster romance#monster husband#monster smut#monster fucker#female reader
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i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3
mail-order bride
he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.
it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.
there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.
they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.
even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.
it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.
it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.
the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.
there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.
he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.
price looks tired. he needs to go home.
"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.
"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."
price shrugs.
"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."
simon shrugs.
"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."
"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."
"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."
his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.
they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.
but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.
simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.
simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.
but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?
simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.
he understands what you can never get back.
he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.
"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.
he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.
she needs you
it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.
but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.
his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.
he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.
there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.
things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.
when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.
and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.
it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
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Papa Bear Hotchner
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!wife!reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: Pregnancy, light teasing, overly protective behavior, use of Y/N, (Jack is not mentioned)
Words: 2k?
Summary: The team is onto your secret, because Hotch is becoming extra careful with you at work...
Aaron Hotchner wasn’t exactly known for being loud and obvious. You’d gotten used to the small, quiet ways he expressed his emotions—an encouraging glance across the bullpen, a quick touch on your back as you passed in the hall. But now? Now, it was like a switch had flipped.
It had only been a couple of weeks since you found out you were pregnant, and Aaron had gone into full-blown “Papa Bear” mode. He was constantly checking on you, making sure you were eating, sleeping, and avoiding anything remotely stressful. And while you loved him for it, you were starting to worry that the team might notice.
You hadn’t told them yet. You wanted to wait until you were further along, but that was proving to be a challenge—mostly because Aaron’s protectiveness was starting to verge on the obvious.
It started that morning when you walked into the bullpen with a coffee in hand.
“Y/N,” Aaron said, his voice sharp as he appeared beside you.
“What?” you asked, blinking up at him.
He reached for the cup in your hand, frowning. “Decaf, right?”
You hesitated for a split second too long.
“Y/N.” His tone was softer now, but the warning was clear.
“Yes. It’s decaf,” you said, rolling your eyes.
He gave you a look that said he didn’t entirely believe you but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he took the cup from you and sniffed it like some kind of coffee detective.
Behind you, you heard Emily stifle a laugh.
“Something funny, Prentiss?” Aaron asked without looking up.
“Nope, nothing at all,” she said, though her smirk was impossible to miss.
The team’s suspicions only grew during the briefing. You were discussing a new case—a string of robberies that had turned violent—and Aaron’s focus was split between the case details and you.
“Y/N, you’ll stay back at the station to coordinate with local law enforcement,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“What?” you blurted, caught off guard. “Why?”
“Because I need someone I trust handling communications,” he said evenly.
You glanced around the table, noting the raised eyebrows and exchanged glances. Derek looked like he was about to burst out laughing, and JJ gave you a sympathetic smile.
“Sure,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Aaron nodded, clearly satisfied, but you could feel the team’s eyes on you as they filed out of the room.
Later that day, you were sitting at your desk when Derek sauntered over, leaning against the edge of your desk with a grin.
“Okay, what’s the deal with Hotch?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.
“You know exactly what I mean,” he said. “He’s been hovering over you like a hawk all day.”
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe he’s just being thorough.”
“Uh-huh,” Derek said, clearly unconvinced. “And maybe I’ll win the lottery tomorrow.”
Before you could respond, Emily joined you, her expression equally amused.
“He made you stay back at the station,” she pointed out. “When’s the last time Hotch did that?”
“Never,” Derek answered for you.
You sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing. “You guys are reading too much into this.”
“Sure we are,” Emily said, smirking.
By the end of the day, you were ready to collapse. Aaron had insisted on driving you home, despite your protests that you were perfectly capable of getting there on your own.
As soon as you stepped into your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and flopped onto the couch with a groan.
“You okay?” Aaron asked, sitting beside you.
“I’m fine,” you said, closing your eyes. “Just tired.”
He frowned, his hand brushing over your knee. “You need to rest more.”
“I will,” you said, smiling up at him. “You worry too much, you know that?”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, his voice softening.
You shook your head, your heart swelling at the concern in his eyes. “No, I can’t.”
The next day, the team’s suspicions reached a breaking point.
You were in the conference room, going over the latest case updates, when JJ leaned over and whispered something to Emily. Both of them glanced at you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” JJ said quickly, though her smile gave her away.
Aaron shot them a warning look, but that only seemed to fuel their amusement.
“I swear, you guys are acting weirder than usual,” you said, shaking your head.
“Us?” Emily asked, feigning innocence. “We’re not the ones acting weird.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Aaron said, his tone firm.
The room fell silent, but you could see the team exchanging knowing looks.
Later that evening, Aaron and I were sitting on the couch at your place, dinner plates balanced on your laps.
“I think the team’s onto us,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence.
“They don’t know anything,” Aaron said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“They’re profilers, Aaron,” you reminded him. “They know everything.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want them to find out before we’re ready to tell them.”
“I know,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “But I don’t think we’ll be able to keep it a secret much longer.”
He was quiet for a moment before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll figure it out,” he said.
A week later, the truth finally came out—not because you told them, but because the team cornered us in the bullpen.
“We need to talk,” Derek said, his tone serious but his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Aaron and you exchanged a look, and you could tell he was debating whether to deny it or come clean.
“What is it, Morgan?” Aaron asked, his voice calm.
“It’s about Y/N,” Derek said, crossing his arms.
You felt your heart skip a beat.
“We know something’s going on,” Emily added, her gaze shifting between the two of you.
Aaron sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What exactly do you think is going on?”
JJ stepped forward, her expression softer. “We think… you’re expecting,” she said gently.
The bullpen fell silent, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you.
Aaron reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re right,” he said finally. “We’re having a baby.”
The room erupted into a mix of cheers and congratulations, and you couldn’t help but laugh at their excitement.
“You guys are impossible, you know that?” you said, shaking your head.
“Impossible, but right,” Rossi said with a grin.
As the team continued to celebrate, you looked up at Aaron, your heart swelling with love and gratitude.
This wasn’t how you planned to tell them, but as you watched your friends and colleagues sharing your joy, you realized it couldn’t have been more perfect.
Your little family was growing, and you couldn’t wait for the adventure ahead.
#criminal minds#dad!aaron hotchner#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner imagines#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fluff
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💸₊˚⊹Your 2H Ruler = How to Become a Money Magnet 💵₊˚⊹

If you’re not making the kind of money you want, you need to start using your 2H ruler. This placement shows how you can earn more money & the people/situations that will bring huge financial opportunities in your life.
If you ignore your 2nd House ruler, you risk chasing the wrong goals and wasting time. This planet shows your natural path to wealth: not the path others tell you to take. The more you align with it, the easier money flows.
So, let's figure out together how to use your birth chart to become a money magnet.
HOW TO FIND THE 2H RULER:
1) Locate the sign in your 2H. Calculate your chart HERE!
2) The planet that rules that sign is your 2H ruler (see table below for planetary rulerships.)
3) Locate the house the 2H ruler occupies in the birth chart. The house it's in, shows HOW you can make more money.
Example: Sagittarius 2H=Sagittarius is ruled by JUPITER=8H Gemini Jupiter is the 2H Ruler

2H RULER IN THE 1H: Build skills and image. Start a personal brand or business. Be seen, heard, and remembered. Who gives you money: Clients who like your energy. Followers, fans, loyal buyers.
2H RULER IN THE 2H: Invest in goods, land, or things that grow. Focus on slow, steady gains. Sell tangible services. Who gives you money: Bankers, traders, investors. People who deal in tangible assets (like gold, land, supplies). Buyers who want lasting value.
2H RULER IN THE 3H: Write, sell, teach, speak. Trade goods locally. Use phones, emails, short trips to build cash. Who gives you money: Siblings, neighbors, close friends. Writers, messengers, teachers. Local businesses or delivery services.
2H RULER IN THE 4H: Buy or sell real estate. Work in land, farming, food, or tradition. Build home-based businesses. Inherit wisely and protect it. Who gives you money: Parents, grandparents, elders. Real estate agents or property managers. Family businesses or ancestral wealth.
2H RULER IN THE 5H: Create art, games, entertainment. Start passion businesses. Teach kids, coach sports, organize events. Take smart risks. Who gives you money: Artists, athletes, performers. Gamblers, investors, venture capitalists. Lovers or romantic partners.
2H RULER IN THE 6H: Offer daily services people need. Heal, repair, clean, or fix. Focus on health, pets, or crafts. Build strong work habits. Who gives you money: Nurses, vets, cleaners, tech workers. Bosses who value hard workers. Clients who need regular help.
2H RULER IN THE 7H: Negotiate smart contracts. Form joint ventures. Sell directly to clients one-on-one. Who gives you money: Business partners, spouses, clients. Lawyers, agents, deal-makers. People who invest in long-term relationships.
2H RULER IN THE 8H: Manage inheritances, investments, loans. Work with taxes, banking, insurance. Handle mergers, estates, or debts. Trade trust for power. Who gives you money: Investors, lenders, financiers. Heirs, trustees, executors. Partners who share assets.
2H RULER IN THE 9H: Teach, publish, preach, or coach. Sell services across borders. Work with law, spirituality, philosophy, or higher education. Follow faith or big missions. Who gives you money: Professors, clergy, travelers, publishers. Foreigners. Legal workers or academic institutions.
2H RULER IN THE 10H: Build a public name. Climb career ladders. Start visible businesses. Become an expert people recognize. Who gives you money: Bosses, governments, CEOs. Industry leaders and high-status clients. Customers who respect titles and results.
2H RULER IN THE 11H: Launch group projects. Build big communities. Fund dreams through social support. Join causes that matter. Who gives you money: Friends, followers, donors. Clubs, political groups, online communities. Social movements and public funds.
2H RULER IN THE 12H: Work behind the scenes. Heal, help, or create art quietly. Invest in royalties, patents, hidden streams. Protect secrets and serve faithfully. Who gives you money: Monasteries, charities, hospitals, hidden patrons. Spiritual teachers, artists, healers. Quiet supporters or secret allies.
Thank you for taking the time to read my post! Your curiosity & engagement mean the world to me. I hope you not only found it enjoyable but also enriching for your astrological knowledge. Your support & interest inspire me to continue sharing insights & information with you. I appreciate you immensely.
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#astro community#astro observations#astrology#astrology signs#horoscope#zodiac#money#abundance#abundancemindset#manifest abundance#financial abundance#law of abundance#prosperity#astrology observations#astrology notes#astrology blog#natal chart#birth chart#astro notes
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