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sweetenerobert · 1 year

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DRUNKEN’ NIGHTS

dom!joel miller x dad!male reader

genre: neighbor joel, no outbreak au, explicit, minors dni

summary: an opportunity to have a guy's night with your daughter’s best friend’s dad turns into a heart-to-heart into an unforgettable night to remember

warnings: strong language, infidelity, joel is 40, reader is 38, unprotected P in A, dirty talk, angsty thoughts, oral (m giving/m receiving), pet names, fingering, creampies,

word count: 4.9k

a/n: gif by @shirks-all-responsibilities

a/n: dividers by @firefly-graphics

a/n: italics = thoughts

official playlist

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YOUR DAUGHTER, MARIGOLD, WAS CLOSE TO SARAH, JOEL’S AND ADALINE’S DAUGHTER.

You remember the first time you met Sarah, it was a late night at work and you came home to see your daughter laughing at a TV Show that she and Sarah were both watching, and they were a little nervous and surprised to see you.

You reassured Sarah saying that your home is open to her.

You met Sarah’s parents; Joel and Adaline after Sarah invited them to have dinner with you, Marigold and Sarah. You remember that you noticed how distant/close Joel and Adaline were during the whole dinner.

It was like they weren’t present as a couple but as a couple of friends. Of course they did their best to hide it but sometimes they slipped through the cracks.

Later that night, you learned from your daughter, Marigold, that Joel and Adaline weren’t as close as they were before they were married — Adaline travels a lot for work, so the relationship wasn’t as strong as they hoped.

After that night, you noticed that inviting Joel and Adaline for hangouts, activities, game nights, and movie nights always had Joel come over with Sarah by himself, and Adaline always worked.

That concluded, you and Joel were always hanging out, drinking together while your daughters had their fun.

This was one of those nights where it would just be you and Joel at his house, with Sarah and Marigold hanging out at yours to have their privacy.

You bought a bottle of rum you were never gonna finish all by yourself and you thought this would be the best time to get rid of the bottle that's been eyeing you for the past 10 years.

You already knew the girls were over at your house. Marigold’s bedroom held the sound of giggling and hushed whispers. You shook your head as you had the neck of the rum bottle in your clammy palm.

You were walking across the cul-de-sac in the already warm orange sky to Joel’s front door, bringing your free hand and knocking on the wooden door in front of you.

You hear shuffling getting closer and closer to the door, and then Joel opens the door, and you smile, and Joel shoots one back.

“Hey, man, what’s our poison for tonight?” Joel asks, leaning on the doorframe.

You held the bottle in your hand and showed to Joel.

“A wedding gift that’s been sitting in my cabinet for ten years, she and me never opened it.”

Joel knew you were divorced but never knew the reason behind it. It wasn't like you never told him. He just never asked.

“You sure you wanna drink this, man?” Joel asks, taking the bottle from your hand.

“Wedding gifts are unique. I know you're divorced and everything but —”

“It's fine, It cluttered the cabinet. Good excuse to clean out my cabinet,” You shrugged.

“Okay, let's get to drinkin’,” Joel smirked, getting off the door frame.

You walked behind him and close the door behind you. You sit on the brown couch in front of the TV — seeing that it's on, you can't take your eyes away from the bright screen. It was a movie that Joel must have been watching before you knocked on the door.

Glancing towards the kitchen, you notice Joel walking back toward you with two glasses in his hands; you fix your position on the couch as Joel sits beside you.

“Here we go,” Joel states, handing you a glass.

“Thank you, cowboy,” You smile, taking the glass from Joel’s hand.

“I can't believe you call me that,” Joel chuckles.

“I’m just glad you don’t call me city boy.”

“I might have to start.”

You place the glass on Joel’s coffee table and unscrew the rum bottle cap, putting the bottle cap on the table.

“Let’s get to drinkin’ then.”

“Let’s get to drinking then,” You smile.

You grab your cup and pour some rum into Joel’s glass and then some into your glass, placing the glass bottle on the coffee table.

“To gettin’ drunk,” Joel nods, holding his rum-filled glass near you.

“We sound like alcoholics — but, to getting drunk,” You laugh.

You and Joel clink your glasses together, and you both knock back a sip of the rum before you start coughing.

The rum made your throat feel like it was burning, and it stayed for a couple of seconds while you were coughing; Joel couldn't help but start chuckling, watching your pain endure.

“Okay, you brought this, and your actin’ like it already killed you,” Joel laughed.

“Look, Mr. Drinker, I’m not much of a drinker; I only act like I am, so you don't judge, city boy, over here,” You countered.

“Aww, is city boy a baby?” Joel pouted.

You shove him. “You suck,” You laugh.

You and Joel probably drank ten or eleven drinks, but it was apparent; you both were drunk like never before. The night sky came rushing in through his large windows.

“Okay, wait, you and Tommy rode motorcycles for his birthday?” You laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, and it was so fuckin’ fun; the adrenaline rush was high that day; I miss it.”

You and Joel were laughing together like lifelong friends. Two dads who were just getting irresponsibly drunk while their daughters did their own thing.

Leaning your head on the backrest of the couch, from the corner of your eye, you can see Joel smiling and leaning back on the sofa, his arm outstretched on top of the couch.

You could tell Joel was hiding something behind that smile, though, as he was looking at the now-muted TV; you could tell something was on his mind.

“Joel,” You state, closing your eyes.

“Yeah, city boy?”

“I can tell something’s on your mind.”

“How? Your eyes are closed,” He reported.

You open your eyes slowly and turn your head to look at him. “Thanks for noticing, detective.”

He chuckled at that nickname.

“But, is there legitimately something on your mind?”

He took a long extended breath and spoke.

“Why did you get a divorce?”

You knew that question would come up eventually; you couldn't dodge the question any more than you wanted to. At this point, you felt like you could tell Joel the real reason.

It could have been the rum messing with your mind, but you acted like you knew Joel for more than ten years when in reality, you only knew him less than five months.

You inhaled and then exhaled before answering Joel.

“I’m gay, no other reason,” You spoke.

Joel couldn't tell where his emotions were in his drunken mind. He wanted to sympathize, comfort, and let you rant about what was on your mind. But in his drunk-filled head, he thought you needed a distraction.

“Do you wanna know how Adaline and I met?”

You nod your head slowly.

“Back in high school, I was this star athlete and shit. She was a wannabe journalist at that point,” Joel started.

“So she wants to interview me because I was this great athlete and shit, we go back to my house, my folks don't come home until later that night. As we're talking, I don't think she’s listening at this point — and she grabs my bulge.”

“What?” You question fixing your position.

“Yeah! I was surprised at it, too; she was now next to me, rubbing, then she unzips my fly, and she’s now rubbing my cock. Her hands are so fuckin’ warm, she’s rubbing and rubbing, and then she stops and walks out with my cock throbbing.”

You could tell with Joel’s feeble attempt at a distraction he was hard himself. He was rubbing his aching cock on top of his jeans.

He was breathing through his nose to the point you could hear every inhale and exhale coming from his nose.

“Your hard, aren't you?”

Joel was nodding his head in between breaths.

“Yeah,” Joel breathed.

Joel stopped rubbing his cock and placed his hands on the sides of him.

Sober, you would have just sat in the uncomfortable silence in the room, but drunk, you did something you would be scared to do if sober.

You place your hand over Joel’s cock; you can feel it throb in your palm.

“W-what are you doing?” Joel exclaimed.

“Helping you out,” You answered.

You knew that this was wrong to do this, your mind was screaming at you to stop, but your actions were speaking louder than your head.

You unzipped Joel’s jeans and placed your hand in between his zipper, and started rubbing his cock on top of his boxer-briefs.

He threw his head back in pleasure and lust.

“Damn, city boy, you know what you're doing,” Joel chuckles.

You didn't hear his statement, you were dick-whipped, and you wanted more. You unbuckled his belt and jeans; then you see his cock bounce up with his boxers, making a tent.

“My cock isn't gonna take care of itself, is it?”

You fix Joel’s cock so his cock can go through the hole in his boxers.

His thick cock was throbbing right before you as you took the tip of his dick in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the slit of his dick as he was moaning with pleasure.

“Oh — fuck, yes.” Joel moaned.

You wrapped your hand around his length as you were taking his size in your mouth.

He was throwing his head back and sucking his teeth as you were pleasuring him to the point that he would explode. Joel hadn't felt something this fantastic in so long; he had forgotten what it felt like.

This feeling he yearned for it once again after so many years; he missed it, the way his body betrayed him showing him that he was enjoying this too well.

The men you gave oral pleasure to in the past can never compare to Joel’s length, and you were addicted to him. You mouth was taking his length with anticipation like a prize you always wanted.

“Such a good fuckin’ cock sucker, city boy,” Joel grunted.

He places his hand onto your head ands pushing down as you were going down on his dick. He was making you speed up a bit.

But going your own pace, you knew he would enjoy it, his dick is sleek in your mouth, almost like a piece of ice in your mouth. You feel his thumb rubbing your head as you take his length.

You take your mouth away from his cock as his dick throbs like a spring.

A line of saliva connect from your mouth to Joel’s cock. Joel’s now having full body breathes, he can’t control the adrenaline and lust coursing through his entire body at this point.

Joel stands up and takes his pants off along with his boxers, you watch as he drops them around his ankle. You can tell Joel is writhing in anticipation, but he’s hiding it.

“Work your magic, city boy.”

With that, Joel shoots a wink as you slide off the couch and kneel on the wooden floor below you. He was standing — towering over you with his hands on his hips.

“No! What are you thinking? He’s married,” You thought.

Ignoring your head again, you take Joel’s cock in your mouth as moans escape his lips. He’s starting to tremble as your head moves, almost bobbing even. You take his cock out of your mouth, and you start stroking his thick, sleek cock. Looking up at him, he gives you an almost weak smile.

“How’s that?” You ask.

“Better — than I — could ever imagine.”

“Wait, he’s imagined this before — Stop! That does not excuse this!”

You place your tongue under his cock, at the base of his balls, and start licking and sucking on his balls.

Joel’s moans kept escaping his lips; it was like music to your ears. Your heart was pumping, hearing Joel moan like he didn't have a care in the world.

“Damn, baby. You so fuckin’ good at that,” Joel exclaimed.

He places his hand on the side of your head.

“Get on the fuckin’ couch,” Joel commands.

“What?” You ask, swallowing your spit.

“I said, take off your fuckin’ clothes and get on the damn couch; I’m going to fuck the shit out of you like no man has before,” Joel commanded.

You stood at the man before you, undoing your pants, taking your shoes off, leaving your socks on, and then taking your shirt off.

Joel had already tossed his boots, jeans, and boxers to the side, with his flannel unbuttoned but hanging on his shoulders. He was a mighty 6’2 compared to your height. You were intimidated a bit in your sober mind. But being drunk, you weren't scared; you were standing your ground.

“Look’s like your cock is happy to see me,” Joel breathed.

Before you can answer, Joel takes your cock in his hands and starts to stroke it; you gasp at his movement as you grip his shoulders to keep yourself from falling over.

You never received this type of pleasure from anyone else but yourself before. Joel stroking your cock made you replace your moans with breathing — heaving breathing. You didn't want to show Joel that you were touched-starved at this point.

“C’mon, city boy, if you can make me moan — I should return the favor at the least,” Joel grinned.

He was stroking your cock faster now, and you couldn't help but close your eyes and moan with pleasure. Your nails were going to make half-crescent moon shapes on Joel’s shoulders.

“Ack, Joel —breath— damn this, so fucking amazing,” You breathed.

Joel smiles as you moan his name like that; he can hear the lust radiating from your lips. He knew you were on the brink of feeling satisfaction just by him stroking you right here.

He knew he had to treat you right, he stopped stroking you, and you placed your head in the crook of his neck and acted breathless right there.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel reassured.

“You need to stop now!”

You get away from the spot in Joel’s neck and back up from him. Joel smiles at you and sits down on the couch; he pats his thigh, indicating for you to ride him. It was intoxicating how he was manspreading and how he patted his thigh.

“You can walk out of here, grab your clothes and walk out!”

You straddle Joel wasting no time acting like he was going to run away.

You could feel the tip of his dick press up against your ass; Joel puts his fingers in your mouth as you drunkenly suck on them.

“Damn, baby, I don't need to tell you anything.”

He takes his fingers away from your mouth and fingers your ass with his spit-covered fingers.

You exclaim with a moan escaping your lips; your nails had dug into the couch material as Joel kept fingering you.

“So fuckin’ tight, baby boy. Have you ever been fingered before?” Joel questioned.

You shook your head and Joel gives you a smirk.

He was enjoying making you squirm under his intoxicating actions. Your moans became quick with efficiency, like you wanted him inside you already.

His fingers were sleek, going inside you and out fast; your knuckles were almost bone white at this point, and your moans kept passing through your teeth like water; Joel’s grin meant he was enjoying every sound you made for him.

He knew that these sounds for him could only be heard by him, considering he was the first person to make you feel this way: overstimulated.

“You like this, city boy?”

“Y-y-ye-yes,” You moaned.

His fingers slipped out of your, and his hands were on your ass.

“You want this cock inside you, baby boy?”

“No!”

“Yes,” You breathed.

“Yes, what?” Joel grunted, smacking your ass.

You yelped as he smacked your ass.

“Yes, Joel, I want your cock inside of me,” You groaned.

Joel’s shit-eating grin meant he’s heard what he’s always wanted to hear.

You waste no time having your ass hover over Joel’s aching cock, mentally preparing yourself, but your mind decides to take over.

“You seriously can not be thinking about doing this, right? What you are committing is an act in which you are going to lie to everyone about how horrible you felt when in reality, you enjoyed every minute of —”

Your mind goes blank as you feel Joel’s cock enter you slowly, intoxicating and rich but slow. You spat a moan out in retaliation for Joel’s dick inside you.

In those enticing, agonizing seconds, Your ass meets the base of his cock, and Joel’s hands make loud contact with your ass.

“God, damn, that's tight, city boy.”

His hands reach your hips like a puzzle piece you lost. Joel lifts you up and slowly goes back down; your moans escape your teeth, your clenched teeth, until Joel rocks his hips up and down. That's when you feel him hit that same spot.

Joel’s hands feel rough as they feel like they were sewn onto your waist, with how tight he grabbed you. His hips felt like they had a mind of their own.

His face had a look of rage and determination all in one; his breaths were quick and through his teeth as he pumped his cock inside you.

“Take this dick, city boy,”

“You know this is wrong. You can't keep doing this!” You thought.

You couldn't contain your moans with every pump Joel delivered; it was addicting.

“Fuck, Joel, I think you're gonna break me,” You exclaim.

“Not yet, baby, soon enough.”

Your hands were on the back of the couch, gripping the fabric. You could tear it off by how your hands were grabbing this.

You yelp again as his hands make contact — hard contact to your ass.

“You’re taking it like such a good boy, baby,” Joel grunted.

“Such a good boy.”

“No! No! No! You are not a good boy!”

Joel’s pace was so fast that his cock, slipped out of you.

Both of your breaths were heavy and difficult; you were looking into each other's eyes and saw the same thing: satisfaction.

“Holy shit, your tight little pussy, almost made me cum, city boy!” Joel chuckles.

“Turn around, baby.”

You complied with what Joel told you to do; you got off Joel’s lap and turned around; you didn't need to listen to your head right now. All you knew was that your ass was hovering over Joel’s thick, throbbing cock.

Joel grabbed the base of his cock and started slapping it against your ass. “You want this dick, city boy?” Joel questioned.

Surprising Joel, you shoved Joel’s cock inside your ass hole. Joel was taken aback.

“OOOOH, GOOD BOY!” Joel exclaimed.

You slowly started to fuck yourself on Joel’s cock. It was thrilling, adrenaline-inducing. You were on the brink of exploding.

“C’mere baby,” Joel stated.

Joel wrapped his arms around your body to bring you closest to his. His hips were rocking up and down, and his pace was fast. His hands were wrapped around your chest, feeling your body as he enjoyed bringing you immense pleasure.

Your feet were on Joel’s bare, sweaty knees. His was hitting your G-spot again, and it felt indescribable. The feeling you never felt before would go away soon, and you hated that, at this moment, you felt suitable for the first time in so long.

“Who’s my good boy?” Joel growls in your ear.

“Me, Joel. I AM,” You hiss between your teeth.

One of his hands found its way to your throat, lightly choking you.

“You love this big dick inside you? Huh, baby?”

“I love it so much, Joel.”

That's when Joel wanted to go rough with you some more. He removes his hand from your throat and grips your thighs, and lifts them so that your back connects with his slightly covered — sweaty chest.

His dick would hurt when you woke up in the morning, but for now, you were feeling pleasure.

Joel was rough, and he knew that your face was close to his, and you could see the rage and determination, and it turned you on even more.

Your cock was slapping against your navel, and your pre cum string was slapping against your stomach. Your left hand gripped Joel’s covered shoulder while your right hand was on the back of the couch.

You could feel Joel’s cock pulsating inside you. You could think that he was close.

“Your so needy, city boy, feelin’ my bulge like that,” Joel grunted.

“Shut up. . .” You thought

“You're taking this thick cock so well,” Joel growled.

“Please, Joel, stop talking; I won't control myself if you keep talking.”

“You love this cock inside of you, don't you?Pounding that tight little pussy of yours.

“YESSS,” You spat.

“You're a filthy whore!”

“Joel! JOEL!” You exclaimed.

“FILTHY WHORES NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

That's when you listened to your head and did the unthinkable. You kissed Joel Miller.

A married Joel Miller, not a simple peck on this lips too—a sloppy, slobbery, open-mouth kiss. Joel slipped his tongue in your mouth as the kiss got rough and passionate. You can feel Joel pumping his cock inside of you faster as he takes his mouth off yours.

“Joel, you’re going to make me cum!” You moaned.

“Cum for me, baby!” Joel breathed.

Joel’s hands made your legs spread apart, and he was pumping his cock rough and slow.

“I’m going to cum, in that tight pussy of yours, city boy,” Joel growled.

“Yes, Joel, fuck —mpfm—, I want that load inside me!”

Joel started to get faster again. As he was, you were about to cum; Joel’s hips were on the brink of exploding if he didn't cum soon. This feeling, this experience, would end with a lust-filled bang.

“I’m cumming, I’M CUMMING!!” You exclaim as white lines of cum shoot out on your stomach.

“FFF— FUCK, ME TOO!” Joel growled.

You could feel his cum inside of you slowly start falling out of you, and Joel’s body started to jolt.

Joel kissed your lips with more passion than hunger like before. You both were drenched in sweat, spit, and now cum. This night was something you didn't want to forget.

You feel your body raised from Joel’s hard chest. Then you notice Joel is picking you up bridal style.

“Not yet, city boy, we’re not done yet,” Joel growled. His eyes turn dark as he walks upstairs with you in his arms.

Joel pushes the bedroom door with his foot; once he sees the bed, he places you down on the bed — on your back.

He’s in between your legs with a grin spread across his face, which shows he has more ways to pleasure you. With your ass hanging over the edge of the bed, Joel places tender kisses on your thighs.

Your spine shivered with how soft his kisses felt on your legs, your calves feeling cold to Joel’s warm lips kissing them. He trailed the kisses down towards the back of your knees, down to your thighs.

Your mind was going into shock at how soft Joel was being. A few minutes ago, he was fucking your brains out, and now he’s tenderly kissing your legs. And now you didn't know what to —

You gasped in awe and enjoyment as Joel’s mouth reached your hole. His tongue was swirling around like he was licking a lollipop. You gripped the gray bedsheets next to you and tried your best to hide your moans.

“Mmmhm, city boy, If I knew you’d tasted this good, I would’ve eaten you out sooner,” Joel exclaimed.

Your hands found their way to your face. You wanted to moan but this would validate that you were ready for him but you wanted to see what —

You yelped as a hard and fast slap came to your balls; you knew Joel was trying to force a moan out of you with his rules.

“C’mon, city boy, I can tell you're enjoying this. Moan for me, baby,” Joel breathed.

Your body betrayed you, and you moaned per Joel’s command. Your body was on overdrive, and it felt immensely addicting.

“That's right, baby; moan for me.”

Your moans kept slipping from your lips, and you enjoyed every second of it. Joel’s hands traveled all over your knees, thighs, and stomach.

His touch felt devilish, addicting. It felt like you depended on his hands, mouth, and cock to fill this overstimulating you had.

“You ready for this cock again, city boy?” Joel asked.

You nodded, and your breaths came out as moans prepared for his cock once again.

Joel stood up from his knees, and that's when you see Joel’s cock. Throbbing, pre cum leaking from the slit. Minutes ago, that cock had cum shooting inside you; it should’ve been soft at that moment.

But his cock looked like it was before the whole situation started; hard, throbbing, begging to cum.

Joel catches your eyes as your are shocked at his massive length.

“Impressive, huh?”

You reflexively nod your head in hunger, his cock will be inside you again, and you can't wait.

Joel lowers his face to kiss you. His hand travels to your throat as he lightly tightens his grip around your neck. You gasp, and Joel sticks his tongue in your mouth. Joel’s moans were quiet, but you could hear them, even with the shuffling of sheets.

“You ready for round two, city boy?”

He kisses you before you get to answer.

“Yes, yes, Joel, I am.”

Joel backs up from your face, and you crawl backward to have your head on top of the pillows below you.

Joel shrugs his flannel off his shoulder and crawls over you. His face inches from yours, his tanned bare chest hovering away from your bare chest.

He adjusts his cock, and you can feel it press up against your hole. Joel slowly slides his cock inside you. You exclaim in pain, but you can't help but feel pleasure all at the same time.

Your legs are over Joel’s shoulder as he starts slow and then goes faster. Your moans were bouncing over the bedroom that Joel and Adaline shared.

This feeling was unbearable, but you didn't care. The pleasure was worth it.

“How do you get so fuckin’ tight, baby boy,” Joel growled.

Joel’s eyes darkened; that same look of rage and determination was back on his face. Heavily breathing through his teeth and you gripping his shoulders so hard, you could make crescent moon shapes on his shoulders.

“Joel! Oh my fucking god, I love this so much!” You yelled.

“I love it when you talk dirty, city boy.”

“Your tight pussy doesn't want to let go of my cock. I’m fuckin’ obsessed with it,” Joel breathed.

Joel wraps his forearms around your legs, making your calves close to his ears. You exclaim in pleasure as he’s fucking you this rough again.

This feeling: It was more than an addiction, a sense; it was indescribable. This immense pleasure you’ve never felt before, and you loved everything.

“J-Joel, slow down; you not gonna last if you go so fast,” You breathed.

“I can't help it, city boy. This tight ass needs my cock. I can tell you need it; I’m going crazy, baby.”

“I- love it, Joel. Just slow down for a second.”

With that, Joel’s hips started to slow down, he was on the brink of coming, but he didn't care. He just wanted you to feel something: Good, lustful, ecstatic, wanted.

He closed his eyes and kissed you as he could feel your heart almost exploding. He let go of your calves as Joel’s hands were beside your head.

His hips started the pace again. He was pumping like he was on a mission. He didn't want to stop this time; he wanted to cum, inside you to show you that you were his, no one else's.

“Ugh, fuck Joel, your seriously going to break me!” You clenched your teeth.

“That’d be the idea, baby. Your mine, no one else’s,” Joel growled.

You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol in your system or just your mind, but you understood when Joel said you were his and no one else’s.

You hated/loved how much that turned you on.

“City boy, I’m going to cum, again. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Joel, pump your hot cum inside of me.”

Joel clenched his teeth so hard one could out from his gums. His hands were gripping your thighs; they could cause bruising.

Your mind was blanking out as Joel was speeding the pace in his hips even more.”

“Fuck, baby, I’m coming!” Joel yelled.

With one thrust, two, and three thrusts, Joel’s cum shot inside you again. You could feel the warm liquid sit inside you. Joel’s forehead had beads of sweat covering it. He leaned down and kissed your lips softly.

“You’re gonna stay the night, and I don't want anyone to see the pleasure I gave you tonight. That’s for my eyes only.”

You nodded, having no other words to say. Joel slips his cock out of you and lays down next to you, breathing heavily. Your head finds his chest, over his heart. You can hear how fast his heart is pumping. You were so exhausted that you fell asleep on Joel’s sweaty chest.

tags: @evans55 @odetodilfs @jrrmint <would lose it @groggygrogu @ihugpedro @strang3lov3 <would lose it

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

Text

Nothing Has Changed - 10

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: So... I wrote the story outline until the ending. I didn't expect the story to turn dark. Prepare yourself.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

Bucky awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “Well, my mom is quite… eccentric.”

Even her own son admitted that Lydia was quite eccentric. She certainly acted like a woman from a wealthy family. She had also caused quite an uproar in town when people saw the wedding invitation that stated her husband would take her last name instead of the other way around.

In a small town, that decision was unique and controversial. Many husbands had their opinions, but no one dared to say it directly to Lydia. Everyone was somewhat afraid of her.

There was a rumor that the marriage wouldn't last long because it was one-sided love. But it's an old rumor.

“If her stares could kill, I’d be dead by now. I don't know what I did to make her hate me,” you muttered.

Bucky hesitated before speaking. “It's…”

“You know the reason?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

He walked closer to you, making you step back a bit. “If we become besties, I’ll tell you.”

'Best friends with you? Hell no!' You gave him a fake smile. “No, thank you.” Then you turned and left, determined to keep your distance from him.

“I knew you’d say that.” He pointed at you while chuckling. Then he whispered, “But why does it still hurt?”

🎨

While you were shopping at the grocery store, minding your own business in the sauce section, you heard a familiar voice, “I'm sorry.”

You pushed your shopping cart and saw a man kneeling down, picking up cans of beer from the ground. It looked like he had knocked over a beer display. From his hair and the pencil behind his ear, it was easy to figure out that it was Steve.

He looked as awkward as he had back in high school. Nobody helped him. You could have chosen to ignore him, but damn, your heart was getting soft.

Steve quickly picked up the beers, sensing someone was beside him. He assumed it was a store employee. “Sorry, I made more work for you.”

“You need to pay for all of this beer,” you said.

Steve realized it was you and looked up, surprised. “Could you pay it for me? I don’t have the money,” he said jokingly.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the last can of beer, fixing the display.

“Phew… I couldn’t have done it without you,” Steve said, relieved.

“Hmm,” you replied. Then you noticed the amount of beer in his shopping cart. “Having a house party?”

He looked back at his shopping cart. “Nah, just for me.”

“All of that…?” you murmured. Then you looked at his face. He tried to smile, but he looked sad, like you could see a dark cloud and rain pouring over him.

Steve sighed. “Hey, do you have some spare time?”

“Sure,” you replied.

Both of you finished shopping and then found a nearby café, settling into a quiet corner. Steve fidgeted with his phone, avoiding eye contact.

“The art school already replied,” he said, his voice tinged with disappointment. “They told me my portfolio doesn’t fit their criteria.” He looked dejected, his shoulders slumping as he spoke.

“Let me see the portfolio,” you said, reaching out your hand.

Steve hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone and showing you the pictures of his artwork. You took the phone, studying each piece carefully. As you scrolled through his work, you noticed the intricate details and the passion evident in every stroke.

Steve watched your face anxiously, trying to read your expression. His hands fidgeted on the table, betraying his nervousness.

“This is impressive,” you said, looking up at him with genuine admiration. “Coming from someone who frequently visits modern art museums, I can tell you these pieces are outstanding.”

Steve’s eyes lit up slightly, a flicker of hope returning. “Really? You think so?”

“That art school must be insane to reject this kind of art,” you affirmed.

You picked up your phone and called an art gallery owner who was one of your clients. After a brief conversation, the owner expressed interest in Steve’s work and wanted to meet him.

Steve looked astonished. “That was quick.”

“When you have status and connections, you can achieve a lot,” you said, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Noted. Thanks,” Steve replied, his gratitude evident.

“In just a brief meeting, you’ve changed my life. You’re more thoughtful than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Steve said, his voice sincere.

You gave a small nod, internally wondering why you had helped him. Was it an act of charity?

Not really. Perhaps deep down, you felt that Steve reminded you of your old self. If you had never met Ransom, who opened your mind, you wouldn’t have known the real world outside of this town.

You weren’t close with Steve, but you had some similarities with him. Both of you were raised by single fathers. However, the difference was Steve’s father loved him, while your father, Tom, was an absent father.

Steve’s father loved him too much, not wanting to be separated from him. Mr. Rogers became paranoid after his wife died.

To summarize, Steve lived pretty much in a cage.

“It’s not free, though. I’ll charge you later after you sell your artwork,” you said, half-smiling.

Steve smirked. “I agree.”

🏎️

A few days later, on the weekend, you decided to drive around and find an automobile repair shop. The air conditioning in your dad's car wasn't working, and although Tom didn't seem bothered by it, you were. So, you took it upon yourself to get it fixed.

After driving around town, you finally found a repair shop. You got out of the car and went to the front desk, where a woman appeared to be engrossed in her phone and clearly bothered by the presence of a customer.

You knocked on the table to get her attention.

“I need to change the air filter for my air con,” you said.

“Wait in line,” she replied without looking up.

You looked around and saw there was no one else there. Was this really how they treated their customers?

You sighed inwardly. “Just give me the air con filter.”

Her eyes remained locked on her phone as she reached out and grabbed a box, handing it to you.

You clicked your tongue and handed her the money. “Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

Just as you were about to leave, the back door opened, and someone tall and imposing walked in. Instantly, your instincts kicked in, making you feel on guard.

Unexpectedly, you came face to face with one of Bucky's group, the biggest of them all. Thor. Like his namesake, he stood tall like a Greek god.

The cashier, who had previously ignored you, quickly brushed her hair and looked at Thor with puppy eyes.

Thor didn't even glance at her; his attention was on you. “No kidding. You’re back,” he said.

You gave a small nod. Back then, both of you were not friends. Thor was the loudest to laugh when you were made fun of. Standing tall like a tower, he was always the first to tell Bucky and their group when you were near.

He was known around town as a future NASCAR driver. Although you weren’t interested in car racing, a small part of you was curious whether Thor had made it to NASCAR or not. Maybe you’d ask Steve later.

“Something wrong with your old man’s car?” Thor asked with a smile.

You showed him the box you bought. “Just needed some spares.”

Thor stepped closer, his presence looming. “Need any help with that?”

You hesitated, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I think I can manage.”

He chuckled, an awkward sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always were stubborn.”

You gave a tight-lipped smile. “And you were always…persistent.”

The cashier was still eyeing Thor, trying to catch his attention, but he seemed oblivious to her attempts. The silence grew uncomfortable, the memories of high school taunts and laughs hanging between you.

“Well, if you change your mind,” Thor said, gesturing to the repair bay, “I’m around.”

You nodded, wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As you walked back to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of discomfort and nostalgia. Thor’s presence brought back memories you’d rather forget, but it also reminded you of how far you’d come.

You got into the car, placed the filter on the passenger seat, and drove off, the encounter replaying in your mind. Some things never change, but you have. And that was enough.

🚗

You drove home quickly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you pulled into the driveway. Finally safe at home, you were drenched in sweat from the broken air conditioning. “Shit. This damn air-con,” you muttered, frustrated. Why hadn’t your dad used the money you sent to buy a new car?

Determined to fix it yourself, you looked up a YouTube tutorial on how to change the air filter in a car. Despite the step-by-step guide, you were still confused, struggling to follow along.

You heard a familiar voice behind you as you fumbled with the instructions. “What 'cha doing?”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was. “Changing the air filter,” you replied, exasperated.

He heard the voice from the YouTube video. “Do you know how to do it?” Bucky asked.

“...No,” you admitted reluctantly.

“Let me help you. It’s really easy,” he said confidently.

“If you say so,” you sighed, stepping aside to let him work.

Bucky changed the air filter quickly and efficiently, his movements smooth and practiced.

"So, you went to Thor's shop?" Bucky asked while fixing it.

"How did you know?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. You also found out that shop belongs to Thor.

"From the filter box," Bucky said with a grin. "Nah… just kidding. He called me."

"Yeah, I went there," you admitted.

"Did he make you uncomfortable?" Bucky's tone grew more serious.

"The same as our first meeting," you said bluntly, not sugarcoating your words.

"Ouch," Bucky said, pretending to be hurt, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Well… it's done," he said, stepping back and wiping his hands.

You looked at the air filter, noting how easily Bucky had changed it. He was right—it was simple once you knew what to do. You turned on the car and felt the welcome rush of cold air. It was a relief after driving around in the heat.

"Thanks," you said, genuinely appreciative.

"That's what friends are for," Bucky replied with a teasing smile.

Giving him a fake smile, you shook your head, your expression firm. "We. Will. Never. Be. Friends."

Bucky shrugged his shoulders, a hint of a smile still playing on his lips. "We'll see about that," he said, walking away to help your father like usual.

You watched him go, shaking your head in disbelief. What made him think you would ever want to be friends after everything that had happened?

Author Note: I imagine this is the fake smile she gives Bucky whenever she talks to him. 😂

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weemssapphic · 11 months

Text

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 14

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: Larissa opens up.

words: ~ 1.7k | ao3 link in title

chapter-specific warnings/content: angst adjacent? conversations (lots of dialogue, sorryyyy)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Larissa must have seen the anxiety flash across your face for she quickly began to backtrack, her eyes widening.

“Not like that, darling, it’s alright.” She offered out a hand - you accepted it gratefully and she gave it a tight squeeze before linking your fingers together, her thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles.

A heavy silence shrouded the room like a veil - Larissa seemed unsure where to begin, and you were unsure how to encourage her to continue, your stomach churning uneasily. Larissa let out a deep breath and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’m afraid I don’t know where to start,” she said eventually with a nervous laugh.

You offered her a soft smile and propped your head up on your hand.

“Umm… how about with Morticia - you did want to talk about her, right?” Larissa nodded and you continued. “When did you guys meet?”

A heavy sigh escaped Larissa’s lips and her eyes darted briefly about the room - you waited patiently as she seemed to collect her thoughts.

“We met on my first day at Nevermore, when we became roommates. I was thirteen. I remember stepping into my room and there was Morticia, hanging up a poster on medieval torture methods.”

You scrunched your brows together, earning yourself a chuckle from the blonde. “She’s always been… unique, in that aspect.”

“So that’s where her daughter gets it from…” You recalled the strange girl from the Weathervane and wondered how much Morticia would have been like her as a teenager.

A crease formed between Larissa’s brows and her lips quirked up into a half-smile. “You’ve met Wednesday?”

“Briefly…” you muttered. “She kind of creeped me out.”

This pulled a genuine laugh from Larissa’s throat. “Her mother was just like her at that age. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. She was charismatic, confident. She made friends wherever she went - everyone really liked her.”

“You did, too,” you pointed out, and Larissa sighed.

“I did, too.”

“So… what happened between you?”

“We became friends - best friends. We did everything together. I suppose, in hindsight, it was for the best that we drifted apart… no matter how good I was, Morticia was always just that much better. But I didn’t see it like that back then… I just wanted to be her friend. And when we were together, I felt special. I felt alive.”

You swallowed thickly - even if it was far in the past, it still wasn’t easy hearing Larissa talk about Morticia like this. Your gaze urged Larissa to continue, however - you could sense it was important for her to open up to you and you wanted her to feel safe with you, no matter how much it made your stomach burn with jealousy.

“Eventually, it turned into something more than friendship. We would hold hands and kiss… I-” Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut, her brow furrowing and a frown growing on her face. “I lost my virginity to her. And then one day, she just started seeing a boy in our class, and that was that. She made it clear that I didn’t mean as much to her as she did to me.”

A bitter snort escaped Larissa’s lips and she opened her eyes - the vulnerability written across her face made your heart clench, and you gave her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“I was devastated. We graduated, went our separate ways. The last time I saw Morticia was at her wedding, which she so kindly invited me to. High school sweethearts, I believe one would call it. A few months later, she called to tell me she was pregnant. Then I didn’t hear from her again until she decided to enroll Wednesday at Nevermore.”

“Larissa, I-”

“As it turns out, Morticia was just the first in a long line of women who could decide, from one day to the next, that I meant nothing to them.”

Larissa’s somber tone made your heart crack a little, and you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “You mean everything to me, Riss,” you whispered into her skin.

The blonde’s gaze dropped quickly to the bedsheets, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones and her lip quivering just the slightest bit.

“Larissa.” You extricated your hand from hers to cup her cheek, urging her to meet your gaze. “I’m so sorry. I…” You felt your words get caught on the lump in your throat, tears stinging at the backs of your eyes. Larissa’s pupils were wide and her eyes were glassy, her breathing turning shallow as she stared back at you. “I wish I could say or do something to change what you went through.”

Larissa shrugged, blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay. “It’s happened. It’s in the past.”

“But it’s still hurting you.”

“Morticia managed to reopen some old wounds,” she muttered with a sad smile.

“Is she the one who called you that night?” you whispered, your stomach clenching. You didn’t want to pry, but it was something that was still bothering you greatly.

“That was Sheriff Galpin, he’d called to inform me that Morticia had been arrested.”

“Wait - she what?”

Larissa smiled softly at your bewildered expression. “That, my love, is a long story. It’s since been sorted. But as I’ve said, that woman is a thorn in my side.”

You searched Larissa’s eyes, biting your lip nervously. “What about tonight? What’s going on up there?” You brushed a finger across Larissa’s temple to emphasize your point and she began to blush profusely.

“I-I’m sorry… I think I got a little jealous,” she muttered, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.

“Jealous?” You furrowed your brow, wracking your brain for any memory of what she could mean. You’d been having a great time after all, just the two of you - oh. “What, you think I’d leave you for him?” you teased, keeping your voice light as you referred to the man who’d attempted (poorly) to flirt with you at the bar.

“Not for him,” Larissa murmured into her arm, still refusing to look at you.

“So in general, then?”

You were given a shy nod in return, and you pressed your lips to the top of Larissa’s head. “Why?” you whispered. “Why would I ever leave you?”

Larissa peeked up at you. “I don’t know what you see in me.” You were about to protest when she sucked in a deep breath and pressed on, her voice low and shaky. “I’m too old for you - you have your entire life ahead of you, a woman like me is only going to tie you down and burden you. You’ll resent me for it.”

“You can’t be serious,” you snorted, your heart constricting - Larissa had to know how madly in love you were with her. “You’re fucking amazing, Larissa. You’re smart and loving and capable, you’re drop-dead gorgeous, you’re funny as hell. If anything, you’re way out of my league.”

Larissa’s gaze was nothing short of incredulous, her cheeks flaming red. “I’m not out of anyone’s league. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Why me, then?” you countered with a raised eyebrow. “If you think you’re too old for me, then what’s to say I’m not too young for you?”

“I…” Larissa paused, the brief silence hanging heavily in the air as Larissa’s gaze bore into your own. “I must admit I’ve never been with someone so much younger than I am. And it wasn’t my… intention when we first met-”

“What was your intention then?”

Closing her eyes, Larissa swallowed nervously. “I found you extremely attractive. I was alone. I had time.”

“A quick fuck, then?” you asked matter-of-factly, trying to keep any judgment from your tone - trying to push Larissa into talking to you.

Larissa’s eyes flew open. “Don’t be crass, darling.” After a moment’s hesitation, she continued, choosing her words carefully. “But… yes and no. There was a… pull. I suppose I thought I was humoring you by giving you my number and asking you to have dinner with me, but I don’t think I could have stopped myself if I’d tried.”

“I have nothing to offer you, though.”

“Safety,” came Larissa’s immediate reply. “I feel safe with you. You are open-minded and loving, and I’ve never felt so at peace with another person before. You are intelligent and bright, I can talk to you and I am free to be myself around you. And that is a person who I have always been terrified of being - but you encourage it. Darling, you’ve already offered me the world. I’m just afraid I cannot give it to you in return - that perhaps you deserve more than a broken version of myself.”

“Jesus, Riss, don’t make me cry,” you teased, tears beginning to blur your vision. “You’re not broken. And you don’t have to be perfect, I don’t want that. I just want you to be yourself. Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I really like you the way you are.”

Larissa let out a wet chuckle as tears gathered in her own eyes, her lips spreading into a sheepish smile as she ducked her head back into the crook of her elbow. “I’m sorry. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“Having emotions isn’t silly,” you pointed out. “I just wish you wouldn’t worry so much. I’m not Morticia… though maybe,” you paused, your lips pulling into an impish grin, “I should send her a thank you card.” “Oh?” Larissa glanced up, her brows creased in confusion.

“I mean, think about it. If she hadn’t been such a bitch, you might’ve ended up together or something. That really would’ve sucked for me.”

The laugh you received from the blonde made your heart soar, and you leaned in to press your lips to hers. She smiled into the kiss - it was wet, and it tasted salty from her tears, and you pulled back to wipe her cheek with your thumb.

“I couldn’t imagine wanting to be here with anyone but you, my love,” Larissa whispered affectionately.

“Good, because you’re mine,” you growled playfully, slinging an arm around her bare waist and tugging her closer.

The dazzling smile that Larissa offered you in return made your heart feel ten times lighter.

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 4 months

Text

Chapter 3 - To Have and To Hold

A Mafia!Steve Harrington AU (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

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Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Weddings should be joyous occasions but the union of two families only brings about distant memories and yearning for a life that could have been. Stolen glances and longing stares across the room, and finally finding yourself face to face with the one person who can change the future.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Pet names. Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Mutual pining. Angst. Lots of tension. Spousal abuse - reader is assaulted and choked.

WC: 5.9K

Days at the gallery quickly turned into long nights. Sometimes not going home until the wee hours of the morning. After the last few interactions with Nik you decided it was best to avoid him altogether.

He'd never set foot in here, for which you were grateful. It was your own oasis from a life that was suddenly so stifling, drowning you without a life preserver in sight.

It was easy enough, the two of you had been sleeping in separate bedrooms for a couple of years now.

You would rather take an acid bath than let him touch you. Sex became completely non-existent when he'd started coming home with lipstick stained collars and trying to push himself onto you knowing he'd just fucked God knows who else, any illusion of a loving, dedicated husband completely dissolved.

You hadn't seen or heard from Steve since the day he'd bought that painting. You found yourself wondering where he might have hung it. It was one of your favorites and knowing it went to a good home warmed your heart.

Abigail knocked you from your current train of thought when she walked over to you with a massive bouquet of white roses.

“Mrs. Petrov, these were just delivered for you, though the card says Ms. Alexander. An old client perhaps?” You shifted the flowers from her arms as she spoke, their delicate scent faintly surrounding you.

“Thank you.” You called out, already heading to your office.

You gently laid them down on the desk, plucking the card from between the soft petals.

You couldn't help the smile that crept across your face as you opened it to read the contents, already suspecting who they were from. No one else in this town would dare use your surname anymore.

Passed the flower shop and thought of you. Hope they brighten your day.

S.H.

You immediately looked for an empty vase in the storage closet to display them on your desk, hiding the card away in the bottom drawer.

It wasn't unusual for clients to send you flowers from time to time, so it didn't seem out of the ordinary.

Much to your delight, it didn't stop there. A fresh bouquet was delivered every few days from that point forward. Not just roses, something unique each time all accompanied with a personalized note signed S.H.

His small way of showing you he was still here while reluctantly maintaining his distance.

For two weeks the flowers and notes never ceased but you still hadn't seen Steve.

There was a wedding slated for the weekend between two prominent families that you had to attend.

Finding yourself in need of a new dress, you were browsing the brightly lit showroom, admiring a very beautiful lilac colored floor length gown in the corner when he spoke.

“That's not your color. Much too pale. What about that one?” You rolled your eyes as he pointed to a deep red, lacey, eye-catching number across the store.

“It's for a wedding, Steven. The attention shouldn't be on me.” You quipped. “And that shows far too much skin.” Turning away, as you began to rummage through a few dresses on the rack.

“If you say so, but you're the only one I'll be looking at.” You stopped, hands stilling on the silk in front of you as you processed his words.

“You're going Saturday?” Managing to squeak out, despite the sudden lump in your throat.

It shouldn't really come as a surprise. All of the big named families had been invited. Maybe you were expecting Steve to be more like Richard in that regard. Send his well wishes but decline the invitation.

“Of course, Dove. Can't miss the wedding of the century. A Gambino marrying a Stratori? It's unheard-of.” He made a mock gasping sound that made you snort a small laugh.

“You should have seen the looks at my…” trailing off when you realized what you were about to say. It wasn't so long ago an Alexander marrying a Petrov was big news.

“Anyway, doesn't matter. I won't be going if I don't find something to wear.” Quickly changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

“Trust me, you'll look good in anything. Wear a potato sack and you’ll still be the most beautiful woman there.” His doting words and simple praises never let up when he was around you.

Your soft blushing and sweet smiles only encouraged him further, reminding him of the younger versions of you both. These moments he would hang onto for forever if need be.

You stared at him a moment, the way the sun filtering through the window cast a glow around him, appearing almost ethereal. His skin tanned by an Italian sun, making his freckles and moles only more prominent. Those same ones you would trace across his back, finding the constellations hidden within.

Your lips twitched at the thought of kissing those same marks, as a deeper blush crept your cheeks that had you quickly looking back to the dresses laid out before you, clearing your throat.

“Steve, I…” Mouth snapping closed when you weren't sure what you were attempting to say.

“What is it, tesoro?” Looking back at you expectantly, eyes soft, giving you his full attention.

“Thank you for the flowers. They're lovely, all of them, but you don't have to do that.” Your gaze drops momentarily as he regards you for a moment.

“Let me ask you something. Do they make you smile?”

“Well, of course.” A grin lifting the edges of your mouth you couldn't contain.

“Then yes, Dove. I have to send them. At least I know for one fleeting moment of the day I've had the pleasure of making you smile.”

You both stilled for a moment, silently gazing at one another.

“Excuse me? Can I help either of you?” One of the associates had walked over, interrupting the small moment.

You smiled at her, asking for a couple of dresses to try on in your size.

“Right away, Mrs. Petrov. And for you sir?” Looking back toward Steve, eyeing him up and down as she spoke. A small scowl of contempt passed over her momentarily, oblivious to who she was speaking to.

“Nothing for me today, thank you. I'll see myself out, momentarily.”

She nodded and walked toward the back to gather the dresses you had asked for.

“I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then.” Finally looking back to him, reluctantly getting ready to take your leave and follow her into the dressing room.

“Of course, Dove.” He says, leaning in close. “I still think the red would be a better choice.” Voice dropping an octave lower, winking as a shameless grin spread across his face.

His persistence had you fondly rolling your eyes, but a grin matching his own spread across your features.

“I think I'll find something a little less salacious but thank you for the suggestion.” Laughing as you walked away, a sound that was like music to his ears as he took his leave.

You glanced back once more, as you reached the back, but he was already gone.

The associate had gotten a large, very well-lit room ready for you. The dresses you had asked for were already on display, hung up across the back wall as you entered.

“This should be all of them. Will there be anything else Mrs. Petrov? Shall I stay and help you try any of them on?” She asked kindly.

“That won’t be necessary but thank you.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with some of the fanciest garments that money could buy yet you stood there feeling hollow, sighing deeply to yourself.

You slid the first dress from its silk hanger. A lilac gown with beautifully beaded detail on the bodice. Once you had managed to get it on, you stood in front of the mirror with a grimace. Steve was right, it was much too pale. You hated that he was right. A man who barely knows you anymore and still knows too much.

It was much the same as you tried on each one of the expensive gowns. None of them seemed quite right. Either the color was off, or it didn’t fit quite right leaving you empty handed on the way out.

Later that afternoon, the sun was setting low, as you worked through a few things before you would reluctantly head home for the evening.

Abigail enthusiastically walked toward you with a large black box, wrapped with a red, silk ribbon and a large matching bow on top.

“Mrs. Petrov, this was just delivered for you. It's from Figueroa.”

The dress shop you had visited earlier in the day. Confusion spread across your face, as you took it from her opting to open it in your office and dismissing her for the day.

You gently lifted the edges, immediately met with matching red tissue paper and a small, white card that simply read: This was ALWAYS your color. See you tomorrow.

You pushed aside the wrapping to reveal a deep, burgundy colored gown held within. The material was a beautiful velvet, soft to the touch, letting your fingers melt into the fabric as you pulled it from the box. It was stunning. A mermaid cut, with long sleeves dropped for the sweetheart neckline that would show some cleavage. It was sexy yet stayed somewhat moderate.

You didn't remember seeing this one in the store because it would have surely caught your eye.

Steve always had good taste. It came as no surprise he chose something that you would have picked out for yourself.

You hid the card in the desk, amongst the ones that have accompanied the flowers, hiding away any evidence of where the dress had come from. Your insides twisted at the thought of hiding him away forever. It was never meant to be this way with Steve.

You gripped the edges of the box on the ride home with a permanent smile etched across your face at the thought of seeing him tomorrow, if only for a brief moment, you would be the one to make him smile.

You sat in silence, staring out the window, ignoring the grunts and protests from Nik.

“I shouldn't even be going to this stupid wedding. I've got shit to do at the club tonight.” Huffing out like a petulant child, pushing his back further into the seat.

You simply rolled your eyes and tried to picture yourself literally anywhere else. The thought of spending the entire evening by his side turned your stomach. All dolled up to be HIS arm candy, but it would be your secret who you were dressed FOR.

“Hey, are you going to talk to me? You've got to play the part sometime tonight.” He grabbed for your hand, but you swiftly moved away from his touch at the faintest brush.

“I'll play along in public, but do not fucking touch me when we are alone. I don't know where your filthy hands have been. Or who they've been in, for that matter.” You spat, already over his behavior.

He let out a deep, hearty laugh, throwing his head back.

“Someone is feisty. I like it.” Grabbing your knee, laughing once again when you pushed him away. “Oh, come on baby. Give us a kiss.”

“Fuck off, Nik.” You hissed.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. The feeling is mutual.” He straightened back up in his seat, promptly lighting a cigarette, blowing the smoke your way.

“Do you mind? I don't want to smell like smoke before we get there.” Waving it away from you and your face, letting out a small cough.

“Aw, don't want your new dress to smell like smoke?” He chuckled, pinching the fabric at your side. “Poor baby.”

Your hand tightened around the clutch you held in your lap, as you closed your eyes holding back your anger as best you could, seething just below the surface. You just had to get through a couple of hours, saying pleasantries and having lighthearted conversation while rubbing a few elbows with certain people.

Calming your nerves as best you could, taking a few deep breaths and slowly opening your eyes once more.

Nik was distracted on his phone, leaving you for a few moments of peace before you pulled up to the venue.

The driver came around to open his door first, but Nik made no attempt to come around to your side to let you out, making the driver go around to open your door as well. A real gentleman.

“Let's get this over with. I've got shit to do.” Finally coming to stand beside you, extending his elbow for you to take.

“You've already said that.” You hissed, reluctantly taking his arm as you headed toward the entrance. “Just fucking behave Nik, you can't act like an ass in front people tonight.”

As much as you hated your husband, he still had a portion of business to uphold with many of the attendees tonight. Your father's reputation was at stake just being associated with the prick.

“I'll do as I damn well please.” He hissed back through gritted teeth, glaring down at you as you entered the large room. Ignoring him, you will yourself to throw on the best fake smile that you could muster.

The wedding was being held downtown, at one of the oldest buildings. Its gothic architecture and high ceilings were a beautiful backdrop for a wedding.

Nik made a beeline for some of his associates, immediately grabbing some champagne from one of the waitresses as he pulled you along. It didn’t go unnoticed the way he so blatantly eyed her up and down as he passed.

You busied yourself looking around at the decor, sipping your own champagne trying to ignore the conversation he was having around you. Some things you couldn’t understand at all as he spoke in his native tongue. When you had first gotten married you took an interest in learning Russian but that quickly subsided as your marriage started falling apart.

The room quieted down to a dull murmur when he entered. His very presence commanded the attention of everyone present. Heads began to turn his way, all clambering to catch a glimpse of the so-called prodigal son of Richard Harrington as he made his entrance, his first public outing since the funeral.

He ignored the hushed whispers around him, walking in with Eddie falling right in behind him, the crowd parting as he made his way to pay respect to the happy couple.

He looked as handsome as ever sporting a black suit, with his hair slicked back and quaffed perfectly but his burgundy shirt and tie beneath his buttoned suit jacket is what really caught your eye. It was the exact color of your dress. A detail that brought a small smile to your face.

“Who the hell does he think he is?” Nik scoffed, as some of the other men chuckled, pulling your attention back to the small group.

He downed the rest of his champagne, eyes never leaving Steve, following his movements across the crowded space.

“I need something a little more stiff, come on.” He grabbed your arm, pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar, dragging you along beside him. The abruptness caught you off guard. For a moment, you wabbled on your heels.

“Nik, you need to take it easy tonight.” You whispered through gritted teeth.

“And you,” he hissed. “Should shut the fuck up.” He gripped your arm a little tighter as you reached the bar tucked away in the corner before ordering a bourbon, downing it in one gulp, slamming the glass back down. He would never outwardly push it out in the open like this, showing his true colors but it was surprising, nonetheless.

He finally relinquished his grip to grab his next one, turning to meet his associates as they began to huddle around him, picking up their conversations from before leaving him to ignore you once more.

Steve spotted you as soon as he walked through the door, smirking to himself. The dress he had picked out fit you spectacularly, showing off your curves while staying somewhat modest. You were breathtaking.

Reluctantly, his attention drew back to the matter at hand as he made his way through the crowd to greet the wedding party and their family, wishing them the best.

Steve quickly made his rounds, shaking hands and chatting with some familiar faces or some new introducing themselves, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

He and Eddie grabbed some flutes of champagne, chatting amongst themselves in the corner where he temporarily lost you in the crowd, but quickly caught up with you again heading toward the bar with Nik.

His jaw ticked seeing the way he gripped you, pulling you alongside him.

Eddie noticed how he stiffened, following his line of vision over to you just in time for them both to witness his hold on you grow a little more harsh.

Steve took a step before Eddie moved abruptly in front of him, halting him with a palm to his chest.

“Steve. Not here.” Eddie warned, as he looked past him once more. You had already moved away from Nik, standing to the side of the bar.

Eddie was right. This was not the time or place to lose his head, but it didn't mean they couldn't have a little chat.

You heard him before you saw him, heart promptly leaping into your throat when you realized he was headed in your direction, but he only caught your gaze nodding slightly and greeted Nik instead.

Realizing you could do nothing but stand there and watch as the scene unfolds, you downed the rest of your champagne bracing for the worst.

“Nik, gentlemen. How are we all doing this evening?” Asking with that charming Harrington tone, as Eddie hung slightly behind them, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed but you could tell he was anything but.

Nik’s amusement seemed to fade, his smile dropping, moving the glass to his lips for another sip. He stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to the other man.

“Harrington.” Nodding back, as the others stated their own greetings.

“Didn't expect you to show up here. Your father never came to shit like this.” He sneered.

“Well, little Niki, like I told you the other day, we aren't our fathers. And I, for one, am striving to be a better man than he was. We should all strive to be better men, right?” Leveling his gaze right at your husband as he spoke.

A flash of anger split Nik's face before regaining his composure, already a little too much to drink to effectively conceal his emotions. The nickname he gained in his youth that he had come to detest, trying to live up to the elder Nikolai, his father, always falling in his shadow. Something that he and Steve had in common however they chose very different avenues to deal with it.

“Right.” Scoffing, as he set his glass back to the bar, taking a small step toward Steve, once again squaring his shoulders. “Any suggestions on how I should go about that, since you're doling out the advice today? I'm all ears.”

“I don't know, Nik. Maybe the old ways of handling business are outdated? Kind of like, oh I don't know?” Pausing, pretending to think for a moment. “Raising a hand to your spouse to keep them in line? That shit just doesn't work and makes you look bad.”

Your cheeks suddenly heated at the bluntness of his insinuation, hoping no one looked over at you.

“And what the fuck would you know about business? Last time I checked, you were still riding daddy's coattails.” Leaning further into Steve’s space as he spoke trying to make himself more intimidating, but he stood his ground, not so easily dissuaded.

Eddie made to move forward, but Steve quickly held a hand out, halting him.

Nik's raised voice began garnering a little attention their way as you scanned the other guests standing close by.

“I'm just saying.” Taking a step toward Nik this time, both men practically nose to nose. “Sometimes it's better to get with the program, or you could lose everything.”

“Are you threatening me?” Nik spat.

Steve let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped back, reminding himself once more that he couldn’t lose it here.

“Trust me, you would know if it's a threat. Just some friendly advice.” He clapped him on the arm as if they were old chums, sharing a good laugh which only infuriated Nik further.

“You can take your friendly advice and shove it u…” One of Nik's associates got in between the two and tried to calm him down. Steve was trying to goad him to gauge his reaction and he had taken the bait flawlessly.

“Well, gentlemen if you'll excuse me, we are here for a wedding after all.” He nodded, as he and Eddie headed back across the room, leaving you a little speechless in the process.

“I don't know who the fuck he thinks he is.” Nik began to rant, so you decided to leave him and make your way to your chair for the ceremony. You also hoped he would cool off before coming to find you as other guests began to fill the empty seats around you.

You caught Steve out of the corner of your eye as he passed, taking a seat across the aisle, one row up on the end.

The ceremony was beautiful with a blushing young bride and a handsome groom. They seemed genuinely happy and for their sakes you hoped it were true.

You couldn't help but feel sadness now thinking back to your own wedding. The joy and hopefulness that day brought only to be a complete fabrication.

As the couple said their vows, your eyes found his across the aisle, as if he had already been looking toward you. There seemed to be a sadness etched within him as well, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle.

Images flashed and danced through your mind of a life that could have been. A fall wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and family. Honeymooning on the Italian coast and coming back to a home full of love and promise without any doubts.

Steve would have given you the world without any hesitation. He loved fiercely, willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. He made it so damn easy to see what a bright future lay ahead for both of you.

You hadn't noticed a tear escaping until it rolled down your cheek, and onto your hand situated in your lap, suddenly bringing you crashing back to reality.

He was still looking at you when you diverted your gaze away, because it was all too much. Your chest ached as the couple kissed, concluding their vows and made their way down the aisle, now united in holy matrimony with smiles gracing their happy faces. It was suddenly too suffocating.

“I have to go to the restroom.” Excusing yourself from Nik’s side, not waiting for his response, quickly dashing out the side door into the empty hallway.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, briefly pausing, your hand leaning against the wall to steady yourself and regain some composure.

You willed yourself to conceal your emotions as you began to make your way down the corridor but as you rounded the corner someone grabbed your forearm. Your back was suddenly met with a warm chest, taking you by surprise. Their large hand clasping over your mouth stifling any noise from escaping you, as they step further back with you in tow, closing the door.

Before you had time to react, his soothing voice washed over you.

“It's okay, Dove. It's just me.” His lips so close, ghosting the shell of your ear as he spoke. He waited a moment for it to register before he removed his hand from your face, finding the light switch.

“Steve! What the hell?” Saying as you swung around to face him, your pulse racing from the small scare. He had pulled you into a small, dimly lit utility closet, away from prying eyes and just big enough for the two of you.

“I'm sorry, honey it's the only place I could get you alone.” He shrugged, shifting toward you, with a small pout.

“I shouldn't be in here.” You reached for the handle, but he was quick to place his hand overtop yours, effectively halting your movement.

“I couldn't let you leave without telling you how beautiful you look.” He whispered, closing the small gap between you, his hand coming to rest on your hip, heat radiating from his palm. His touch was searing, even through the fabric of your gown.

“I saw this on the way out of the shop and had them match the shirt and tie perfectly.” He inches just a little more into your space, releasing the hold on your hand so he could plant it firmly to your lower back pushing you further into him.

Your hands find the expanse of his chest, holding yourself steady, feeling as though your knees could give out at any moment. He had unbuttoned his suit jacket, your palms finding the warmth beneath, flat against his silk shirt.

He didn't need to utter it aloud. The dress. The tie. It was his way of subtly staking claim to you. You were and always had been his.

“Steve, what are you doing? You can't exactly woo a married woman. Especially one married to someone as powerful as Nik. He…” You stopped, when you saw the look in his eyes, utterly and completely gone for you.

“I don't have to woo what's already mine.” His voice low and husky, dripping with desire.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Mr. Harrington.” You breathed out, trying to maintain your cool but even you could hear the waiver in your voice.

No matter the distance or time, you couldn't forget this man no matter how hard you tried. He would simply not let you. It felt like torture to be this close to him now, yet so far away.

Your head kept telling you that you needed to run, but you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You were transfixed, gazing up into his golden, mossy framed orbs.

You let your eyes trail his features. A small scar above his left eyebrow that had been there for years, a memento of his childhood. The way his lips had the perfect cupid's bow and remembering just the way he tastes.

He leans down looking for any sign of trepidation, finding none; your face mirroring his own, full of unspoken adoration.

“You're not denying it, tesoro. Just tell me you want this, as much as I do.” His nose traces down the slope of yours as he speaks. Your heart hammering so hard in your chest, you were sure he could hear it beating.

“Amore mio.” You whisper, top lip grazing his, releasing a shuddering breath before the realization of what you'd just said fully hit.

You'd never spoken those simple words to anyone else, only ever reserved for Steve. He had taught you some phrases in Italian, mostly sweet talk. You were always his tesoro mio and he, your amore mio.

You lean back, clasping a hand over your mouth as he was fully leaning in, eyes closed, lips chasing yours.

“Oh my God!” You gasp out, pressing yourself backward, stumbling a bit in your heels but he catches your elbow as you regain your balance.

“Dove?” He asks, voice low, coming out a little timidly.

“I… We can't do this Steve!” He can see your internal conflict and what he can only infer as fear written all over your face. It dawns on him then. The way you had winced when he grabbed your arm at the gallery. The way Nik had pulled you through the room earlier.

“Dove, did he hurt you?” His hand on your elbow begins to draw you back in, laying his other to your jaw, coaxing your face toward him but you still refuse to look up, eyes cast downward.

“No, Steve. You just… you don't know what he's capable of.” Your eyes grow glossy, tears threatening to spill over your lashes and ruining your makeup.

“Hey, honey, I'm not worried about him.” He does his best to soothe you, speaking softly. “If anyone should be worried, it's him. You hear me? Look at me.” Gently, his thumb grazes your bottom lip.

“Dove, look at me.” Pleading one last time, his voice was raw and pained.

“Steve, I can't…” Your eyes finally meet his, tears spilling out and down your cheeks. He does his best to wipe them away when his hands come to cup your cheeks. “I…I’m sor…”

“Shhh… no need for that, tesoro mio.” He doesn't want to let you go, but he's afraid of pushing you further away.

He leans in, warm lips press into your forehead as your eyes close. A tender embrace, your hand coming to grip his wrist holding him in place for a moment longer before quietly slipping from his hold.

You wipe your tears, pausing with your hand on the handle, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“It's better if you stay away from me.” Whispering out without waiting for a reply, quickly opening the door and checking the hall before stepping out. Your footsteps are the only sound echoing down the corridor as you walk toward the restroom to clean yourself up.

The interaction only lasted a few minutes, but the feeling of his hands and lips still lingered on your skin.

“It's better if you stay away from me.”

He blows out a deep breath but doesn't say anything.

Better for who? He bitterly thinks. Certainly not better for him. You're all he's thought about since returning. It's driving him insane.

He can't bring himself to think about you with Nik. The asshole getting to have you all to himself. He can touch, kiss or bed you anytime he pleases. The thought makes him sick, but the brief interaction solidifies what he already knew to be true.

When he heard “amore mio” glide past your lips so easily, he knew he still had you. His heart ached to hear you say that just once more, something he hadn't heard uttered in so long, nearly taking his breath away. You're still his.

He waits a few more moments, letting you get ahead of him before he makes sure the coast is clear and exits the closet.

Heading in the opposite direction and rounding the corner, he spots Eddie leaning against the wall smirking at him.

“Everything okay, boss?” His grin drops, shoving himself off the wall seeing the annoyed look plastered to Steve's face. Not what he had expected.

“No, but it will be. We're leaving.” Grunting out as he continues to walk, leaving Eddie to catch up to his stride.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, wiping the makeup that had run. It took a few minutes, but you made yourself presentable.

Nik was waiting for you right outside the bathroom, crossing his arms giving you a death glare when you spotted him.

“What the hell have you been doing?” He hissed.

“I had to pee, and the wedding made me emotional, so I cleaned myself up. I can't go to the reception looking like a mess.” Responding, as you headed past him, but he grabbed your arm. The one he's so fond to take here lately when you get out of line.

“We're going home.” He spat, getting in your face for a moment before a cruel smile stretched across his face as his whole demeanor changed.

“Kitten, I know you're tired, it's been a long hard day.” Ushering you out into the reception area, pulling you through the crowd toward the exit, holding tightly to your wrist as if you would try to flee at any moment.

The car was already waiting outside, as he ushered you inside and slammed the door. You held your breath when he sat down beside you and began to loosen his tie, unbuttoning the restricting collar.

Silence for a few moments as you head back home to your prison.

“Do you think I'm fucking stupid?” He finally asks, turning his head slowly toward you.

“Wh– What?” You asked meekly, shrinking into yourself.

“I asked if you think I'm fucking stupid?” Enunciating each word a little slower and more clipped.

You furrowed your brow, trying to decipher where he was going. Had he seen you and Steve exit the closet?

“Where'd the dress come from?”

“My dress?” You tried to stay calm, looking down at the velvet fabric. He'd put those small crumbs together.

“The dress Y/N. That fucker bought it for you, didn't he? Didn't think I'd notice his goddamn matching shirt and tie? You two think you're really cute.” He clenched his fists on his lap, as his jaw ticked. He was anything but calm right now and the dam was about to burst.

“Nik… I…” He suddenly lunged at you, hand around your throat pushing you back into the seat. You gasped out in surprise, as he pressed in just a little harder, fingers flexing and cutting off your air supply. Your hand flew up to clutch at his, grasping and desperately trying to pry him away.

He leaned in close, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

“Its like you want me the fucking hurt you, leaving me no choice. Pull a stunt like that again, and not even your father will be able to protect you.”

He eases back, placing a chaste kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you. Your airway opened, leaving you gasping in a heavy breath while letting out a small, choked sob.

“I warned you.” His last words for the evening, before lighting a cigarette and thoroughly ignoring you, taking a phone call leaving you to sulk in the corner.

He dropped you off at home, no doubt heading to his club, but you were grateful to be left alone for the night hoping for some miracle that he wouldn’t come back home at all.

You drew yourself a hot bath, letting the magnitude of everything that had transpired wash over you.

The wedding brought up so many morose thoughts and feelings. Steve blatantly threatening Nik, Nik threatening you, it was all too much.

Your fingertips graze your cheek where his hand had been not long ago. If you closed your eyes, you could feel him still, imaging he was here with you. His touch had electrified you. Something you had never felt with anyone else. A feeling of being totally alive. The gray, dreary past melting and giving way to a future full of bright color.

“Steve.” You whispered out, pulling your knees into your chest, as you cried.

Lying to yourself would be useless. Steve was everything that Nik never was or would be. Years apart and he still holds your heart. You were still in love with him, just knowing he felt the same was all you needed.

You had to think of a plan, while still trying to maintain your distance until Nik was out of the picture.

This was a very dangerous game, but you couldn't bear the thought of letting him go a second time.

No, you wouldn't let that happen this time.

Taglist: @micheledawn1975 @girlwiththerubyslippers @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @taccobelle

Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

#steve harrington #mafia!steve harrington #mafia!au #king of hearts #koh #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #joe keery #eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie

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myteavsricochet · 5 months

Text

Latest fanfics read (firstprince edition) part 5:

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

When David, Henry's introverted beagle is scared of everyone, finding a new roommate becomes a challenge for Henry. But when David's obsession with a potential roommate, the charming Alex comes to light, their living arrangement becomes set in stone. As Alex and Henry navigate their living arrangement, a unique bond forms between them, sparking a journey of heartwarming friendship and eventually, love.

David doesn’t like anyone but Henry because everyone Henry’s around before he moved to the US is awful, except Bea. So Henry’s having trouble finding a roommate. During their roommate interview, David curls up in Alex’s lap and goes to sleep.

When Alex and Henry move in together, David becomes strangely obsessed with Alex. When Alex leaves for school/work, he remembers Henry exists too.

make me your god

There’s no such thing as soulmates. Not for gods.

But then Henry meets Alex, and everything changes.

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, gods and mortals, Soulmates, Immortality

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

Any time, son.”

This time, Alex knows it’s not a nickname.

Or, 5 times Arthur and Catherine act like Alex's family and 1 time they become one.

Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Coming Out, Alex has ADHD, Found Family, Pining, but very little, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, Ellen is kind of an asshole

in other words, until eternity (baby, i'm yours)

Henry reaches up and traces Alex’s cheek. Alex closes his eyes at his touch and lets Henry map his face with the pads of his fingers. He brushes over the curve of Alex’s ear, thumbs at the cut of his jaw and the indent of his chin dimple. Alex feels himself practically trembling, half in anticipation and half in response to the tenderness of the moment. His nose is next, then the line of his brows before Henry finally, finally traces the shape of his lips.

---

or: domestic bliss, firstprince edition

speak now (or forever hold your peace)

Then the preacher is saying, speak now or forever hold your peace…

This is his last chance. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, pounding in his ears, he gulps…

A second later, Henry is on his feet, standing tall.

*****

Alex left Kensington when Henry told him. And now, five years since then, Henry is invited to Alex’s wedding.

And you know how the saying goes, “If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, it’s yours forever. If it doesn't, then it was never meant to be.”

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-The Storming of Kensington Palace (Red White & Royal Blue), Pining, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Exes to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Angst with a Happy Ending

be my mistake

“So, like, I don’t usually do this.”

Henry raises an eyebrow. He knows Alex’s reputation across campus. Everyone does.

“I mean with guys.”

Oh. Right.

Henry nods. “I won’t say anything.”

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Frat Parties, Drinking, Implied/Referenced Sex, Fuckbuddies, Casual Sex, Sex Without Feelings, Fuckboi Alex Claremont-Diaz

King of My Heart

Alex, as always, is utterly captivating.

He accepts his crown with grace and a crooked grin; it’s a duality that only he can pull off. Alex’s megawatt smile is brighter than the hundreds of multicolored shards of light reflecting off the mirrorball in the center of the room. Henry knows that Alex looks good on stage, he knows that Alex knows that he looks good on stage, and apparently, everyone else knows it as well. Henry thinks he sees a girl faint at the sight out of the corner of his eye.

And yet, no one knows about Alex and him. Everyone in the crowd wants Alex, but it’s a losing battle — Henry already won that fight a couple of weeks ago.

Or, When Alex wins Prom King, Henry sneaks him away for a moment alone and realizes that his feelings may run deeper than their clandestine hookups suggest

The Weight of Confession

The careful balance of his time was tipping. He was supposed to be 33.3% Lawyer, 33.3% Spider-Man, and 33.3% Alex... Not always in the order. But yeah, okay, often in that order.

But, that balance had been tipping too far towards Alex time for a few weeks. Which, took away from time as Spider-Man. Then, work got busy, which meant there was less time for Alex to catch up with June... It never ends.

There aren’t enough hours in the day for Alex to feel satisfied in every role. And, June paid the price.

Or: The point in time where a housewarming party and an origin story converge.

part 2 of What's up, danger?

solace in my star(s)

thinking that maybe henry likes being an insomniac because without the darkness of the night you wouldn't see the stars and that's his way of connecting with arthur and then eventually he has alex and he finds the same solace and love in alex

Additional tags: henry fox-mountchristen-windsor needs a hug, depression, stargazing, insomnia, established relationship

i scratch your head, you fall asleep

“Long day?” Henry asked quietly and carded his fingers through Alex’s curls. The other man relaxed heavily into him with another sigh and Henry felt him nod against his leg.

“Long month, really,” Alex murmured. “But we finished prep for a case early today and Marge said I can’t come back until I’ve slept for at least twelve consecutive hours, so. Here I am.”

“Here you are,” Henry echoed fondly.

or, alex really, really needs a nap and henry really, really loves him

you don't know the answer (til someone's on their knees and asks you)

“This might be the best one yet,” Henry comments, picking up another forkful of cheesecake and holding it out toward Alex. “Cheers to another successful con.”

They clink their forks, sharing small secret smiles over their free dessert before exiting the restaurant with their fingers interlocked and thanking the hostess, while all the servers watch them leave with hearts in their eyes.

Exactly the way they’d fucking planned it.

---

Best friends Alex and Henry pretending to get engaged every week to get free dessert, until those pesky feelings get in the way.

falling in love (every time i see you)

“Henry, I love you.” He says it without knowing what it means, just that it feels right on his tongue, and Henry’s eyes go wide like he can’t believe anyone would say that to him. Alex would say it a thousand times. He’s just waiting for Henry to say it back.

(or, five times alex tells henry he loves him, one time henry finally says it back)

with all these nights we're spending (my broken bones are mending)

It’s unexpected, and the softness that Prince Henry maintains is a shock to his system.

It makes him want to say something, even if it’s only to ask how his day was or to request an explanation for why he spent nearly fifteen fucking minutes looking at Cupid and Psyche with a forlorn look in his eyes. When he moves on, Alex gazes up at the sculpture and tries to discern the magic that must have captured the prince’s attention, but he comes up with no answers.

Which makes him want to ask more.

But he isn’t supposed to.

----

Or, Alex is the new V&A night guard and Henry is the prince that Alex has been explicitly instructed to leave alone.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb fics

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koogl001 · 2 years

Note

I have a bit of an oddball one. Any HCs for Alastor if he was in an arranged marriage with a fem! s/o??? Would he ever come to like his new marriage partner? Not entirely sure why he would be in an arranged marriage, but I thought the concept was unique.

One-Shots and Headcanons Masterlist

The marriage was arranged by Alastor’s mother

She came home one day and presented the idea that he would really like a daughter of her long-time friend

And that daughter happened to be you

Being the mama’s boy he is, he would do anything to make her happy, even marry a person he never met before

When he first met you, it was to discuss the wedding arrangements

You were from an immigrant family, so you agreed to marry him in order to gain some footing and good reputation in Louisiana thanks to him being the most well known and liked radio host around

You found him handsome for sure, but gaining feelings would be as much of a journey for you as it would be for him

You were a stay-at-home wife, and god damn were you the best wife he could have asked for

The house was always clean, there was always warm delicious food waiting for him when he got home, you would always listen to anything he had to say, taking his words into careful consideration, you were sweet, kind, compassionate

The only thing you weren’t was loving, but he understood that

After all, neither was he

But he was still a perfect husband, just like his mama raised him to be

He was a gentleman, he listened, helped around the house, got you anything you asked for, let you redesign his house so it would feel more welcoming to you, and he never got angry with you (not only because he is naturally quirky and fun loving, but also because he refused to be like his old man)

Being his wife, you eventually found out about his dark secret

I mean it would be virtually impossible for him to keep them from you seeing as after a few months, you knew the house like the back of your hand and could tell there were slight red stains on the floor, or little scratch marks around the door frame (from his victims trying to hold onto something for dear life of course)

One day, when he was off to work, you followed the marks to a carpet, removing it and finding a secret door leading to a basement filled with dead human bodies, disfigured, and chopped up

So, THIS was where he always got the meat

When he came home, he was expecting anything but you telling him you knew he was the infamous Louisiana killer, yet you seemed oddly calm and collected

He was reaching for a knife on the kitchen counter, but halted his actions when he heard you giggle

Ok, you were taking this suspiciously well, what the hell is going on

That is when he discovered your little dark secret

Very much like his own family, due to you being immigrants you had nothing when you first came to the state and instead of dying from starvation, your father took to hunting humans for food when you were but a child

You knew you recognised the flavour of the meat you have been eating for months now from somewhere, you just couldn’t connect the dots

Oh, you were perfect!

You started bonding over this little fact and soon, Alastor started inviting you to his little hunt sessions

You, being the curious little thing you were, with nothing interesting do to at home, agreed, stoked to see just how he lured and killed his victims and when he even encouraged you to try it for yourself, you agreed in no time

And that’s when he knew, as he saw you drenched in blood, slowly dragging the life out of your victim, that’s when he knew

That he was absolutely and undeniably in love with you

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starfall-spirit · 2 months

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@acotar-omegaverse-week Day 2: Turning Up the Heat

Read on Ao3 // BitS Masterlist // Fic Masterlist

Summary: After having just moved into the Forest House weeks before the wedding, Feyre finds herself in a strange predicament.

OR;

Burning in the Starlight, but make it omegaverse.

Chapter II: Our Sweet Girl

Feyre

Distance. Distance would help. If She could just find a way to convince them to leave her be that evening, she could ride this out on her own.

“Feyre, don’t be stubborn,” Rhys said, watching her retreat. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

“I—how—”

“Don’t concern yourself with maintaining your shields. It won’t be possible once the heat sets in.” The next time she turned to face them a pile of clothing waited on the bed, each piece carrying Rhys’ scent. “Finish your nest, pet. You won’t have the clarity to do so much longer.”

Caving to her instincts once again, she snatched up the pile of clothes her mate had provided, doing her best to ignore her mounting arousal. She heard Rhys curse softly, perhaps more attuned to the change in her with a bond connecting them. A second wave of heat rolled through her and she groaned, reaching back to twist her hair up at the top of her head. She’d left a tie on her vanity the evening before, hadn’t she?

“Can you—Shit. Can you open the window? P-please?”

“It won’t help much,” Eris warned, but moved to crack the pane over her window seat.

Giving up on finding any sort of ribbon or tie, Feyre drifted back to her nest, curling into the side of it where she’d left most of the clothing, choosing to ignore the look the males exchanged.

“Feyre darling, let us help you. Invite us into your nest.”

It had been months since their bargain was struck and still Feyre struggled to grasp how two males who had so much negative history could work so cohesively to accommodate her wishes alone, but that unity was helping to settle her now. Before she could let her mind spiral back into denial, she nodded her head, granting the permission Rhys had requested. She nearly moaned as they settled in on either side of her, endearingly careful not to disturb her arrangement more than they had to.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” she whispered.

Eris chuckled at her back. “Not together, but there have been other omegas, yes. Each of you may be unique in your needs, but some things remain consistent.”

Feyre hummed, shifting just enough to nuzzle into Rhys’ neck, where his scent seemed to be strongest. Stooping down, he pressed a kiss to her temple, beginning to make a sound she could only describe as a purr. A flood of wetness coated her panties and she whimpered, one hand flying down to press between her legs as the other gripped his shoulder tight.

“Shh,” Eris soothed from behind her, one hand running through her hair, tugging lightly each time he returned to her roots. “You’re alright, little one.” He managed to shift her lower body enough to lift her nightgown so it was rucked up around her hips, exposing the soaked cotton between her legs. “The slick is natural.”

Feyre wasn’t sure why he was acting so out of character when it came to this. Until he sensed she was an omega, he’d been the gruff male that she’d met Under the Mountain—that she’d seen commanding the court.

“Alphas are caretakers,” Rhys explained, reminding her that their mental bridge had been left wide open. “Eris may be a dick in every sense of the word, but he’s no exception to the trait our dynamic shares. We’ll take care of you, Feyre. Through this heat and long after.”

Long after? She didn’t know what to make of that, and now hardly seemed an appropriate time to try.

“Lay back, Feyre,” he murmured aloud.

Turning her by the shoulders, he claimed her mouth in a heated kiss, nearly dizzying enough to distract her from the fact Eris was dragging her underwear down her legs, fully baring her lower half for them to view at their leisure. She whined against Rhys’ mouth, irked that Eris could keep her spread open with so little effort. She’d never felt this exposed.

“Relax, Feyre. Trust your body,” Rhys soothed her the next time they broke for air. But how could she when the heat and ache inside her only built with each touch. If she was driven any higher she’d surely lose her mind. “You want the first taste, Eris, stop teasing her.”

“What fun would that be?” he retorted. There was the cruel edge she’d been expecting. “And after she was so resistant to any help.” He shook his head, only to duck down a moment later, his tongue flicking against her clit as two fingers pushing inside of her, their passage eased by the slick that now coated her thighs and the sheets beneath her even as she clenched hard around them.

Her hips jolted upwards, only to be pinned by the muscled arm Eris slung across them. “Behave,” he growled.

Feyre tried to break away from the kiss once again, this time to tell Eris what she thought about that demand, but Rhys had sensed her intentions, his fingers knotting through her hair to keep her in place. “Mind that sharp tongue of yours tonight, darling. He can choose to edge you just as easily as he can give you what you’re so desperate for. I won’t stop him if you’ve earned it.”

Eris groaned against her center and she could only pray he was satisfied with his position between her legs and that Rhys hadn’t shared his sentiments for the evening. Either way, it seemed she hadn’t done anything to earn a punishment yet, as Eris sucked hard at her clit, fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that set her trembling from head to toe.

Rhys chuckled, dropping the hand tangled in her hair to pinch her nipple hard enough she whimpered, the pain only driving her closer to her release. He pulled back, placing a tender kiss to her throat before his attention shifted. His hand slid down to cup her breast, tongue flicking over it before his lips sealed over it, the wet heat soothing the sting.

Gripping Rhys’ shoulders, she keened, arching up against his mouth. Soaked with slick and sweat, she could only imagine what she looked like to the pair of them—the perfectionists they were. “Lie still, little mate,” he crooned.

And Cauldron, did she try. “Our sweet girl,” he praised, even as she struggled to comply with his gentle command.

“Need—” Her begging was lost under her own cry of panic when she felt one thick finger trailing down to press into her ass, her own slick serving as a generous lubricant. “Eris!”

But there was no sense in trying to claim she disliked it. Not when that foreign pressure was what sent her hurtling into an orgasm that wrecked what little mental clarity remained. One orgasm and she was truly lost to the multitude of sensations brought on by her heat. And her mate and betrothed were to blame.

~~~~~

Taglist: @highladysith // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @stars-and-scripts // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @mybestfriendmademe // @lilah-asteria

#acotar #feysand #acotaromegaverse2024 #acotar omegaverse #acotaromegaverseweek2024 #feysand fic #feyrisand #feyris #eris vanserra #feyre archeron #rhysand

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thebunnednun · 3 months

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Shadows in the Night! Trafalgar D. Water Law x Ethereal spirit! Reader (Part 3)

P.S. I do not own any of the images or art!!

Song: Starset

Synopsis: While exploring the enigmatic ruins of a lost civilization, Law and his crew inadvertently awaken a hauntingly beautiful spirit. Invisible to everyone but Law, she delights in tormenting him, whispering tantalizingly close and stirring an unsettling desire within him.

Their relationship, fraught with tension and conflict, evolves from enemies to reluctant allies as the spirit reveals a dark truth: they are bound together for all eternity unless he helps her reclaim her physical body hidden within the ruins. Amidst ancient riddles and hidden dangers, the lines between hate and desire blur, creating an intoxicating mix of sexual and romantic tension.

In this gripping tale of supernatural intrigue and forbidden desire, Law’s resolve and sanity are tested. Can he break the curse, or will they remain forever entwined in the shadows of the forgotten ruins, bound by a fate that draws them inexorably closer?

On with the show!!~

-------------------------Chapter 3: Done Deal-----------------------------

"Law,"

"Law?"

"Law dear," the voice whispered softly, a melodious tune that seemed to resonate through the fog of sleep.

"Mhm," Law murmured, his mind slowly drifting toward consciousness.

"You have to wake up now," the voice coaxed gently, and he felt something soft brush against his cheek, sending cold tingles cascading through his body.

Law slowly opened his amber eyes, blinking against the morning light streaming through the open curtains. A gentle weight pressed down on his chest, and as his vision cleared, a giggle reached his ears.

"Hey there, sleepyhead!" a feminine voice laughed softly, the sound warm and full of affection.

Law groaned, the remnants of sleep clinging to him. He felt the pressure of the weight on his chest and stomach and looked down to see a small, delicate form.

"Ah!"

"I know, my love," the voice soothed, "Daddy is waking up now."

'Daddy?'

The word jolted through his mind, and Law's eyes shot open as he tried to sit up.

"Whoa, there!" The same cold hand pressed down firmly on his chest, preventing him from rising too quickly. "Don't send our baby flying now!"

The woman’s warm laughter settled over his skin like a comforting blanket. Now fully alert, he could see a young infant nestled on his chest, lying over his heart. The baby’s tiny fingers clutched at his shirt, and a soft coo escaped its lips.

"Ah!"

Law found himself in a large master bed, the sheets tangled and unmade from a restless night. He looked up, following the voice to its source. A woman stood beside the bed, her figure bathed in the soft, golden morning light.

She was breathtaking. Her beauty was striking, her features perfectly balanced with a unique charm. She wore deep blue jeans that hugged her curves, and a white lab coat hung over her shoulders, partially covering a punk rock tee-shirt that hinted at a rebellious spirit.

Her red lips were vibrant, catching his eye and drawing him in despite the way the light obscured the details of her face. It was the kind of red that demanded attention, vibrant and full of life.

Her eyes, however, were clear and mesmerizing, the only detail he could truly focus on through the glare. They were deep and expressive, a captivating blend of strength and tenderness. Her voice, warm and inviting, seemed to wrap around him, anchoring him in this surreal moment.

"It's nice to see you in the land of the living, my heart," she murmured, her fingers rubbing his chest where his heart pounded rapidly. She traced gentle patterns on his hip and tummy, the intimate gesture sending shivers through him.

"Come on, I'll take over now." She reached for the baby, her movements graceful and tender.

Instead, the infant curled up closer to Law's neck, nuzzling against his skin. As he looked down, he noticed a glint of metal and saw a diamond wedding band on the woman's ring finger while his own left hand sported a golden one.

"Awe, someone~ isn't ready to get up yet."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his cheek in a soft kiss. The touch sending hot flashes of electricity through his body despite their freezing temperature. "Give Daddy some love to help him wake up," she encouraged the baby, her voice a soft coo.

The baby responded with a happy gurgle, tiny hands reaching up to touch Law's face. The warmth of the moment seeped into Law’s chest, spreading through him like a balm. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a strange blend of peace and joy that left him momentarily breathless.

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, his voice thick with emotion.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made his heart ache with an unfamiliar happiness.

"Always, Law."

As the woman settled to lean into his warm body and press a kiss to the baby, Law couldn’t help but marvel at the surreal beauty of the scene. It felt both impossibly real and dreamlike, a precious moment suspended in time. The warmth in his chest grew, wrapping around his heart as he watched her.

"Law!"

'No.'

"Hey Law!"

'No!'

"Wake up!"

A different voice called out, piercing through the tranquility of the moment.

Law's eyes shot open, the dream dissolving into the stark reality of the Thousand Sunny's infirmary. He was lying on a cot, with Luffy and Chopper anxiously waiting by his side.

"You're awake!" Chopper exclaimed with relief.

Law blinked, trying to piece together what had happened. "What... what happened?" he asked, his voice groggy.

Brook's voice floated into the room, cheerful yet concerned. "You passed out during the emergency, Law."

Law tried to sit up, but before he could move, Luffy threw himself on top of him, pinning him down. "Stay put, Law! You need to rest!"

Chopper nodded vigorously, his tiny hoof resting on Law's arm. "You really need to take it easy. You passed out from lack of sleep and stress. I asked Sanji to make you some soup."

Law turned his head to look at Chopper, acknowledging his words. "What happened to the sub?" he asked, his voice still weak.

Zoro, leaning against the doorframe, answered calmly. "Robin and Franky took care of it. It's in good hands."

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, and Bepo entered, his face lighting up with happiness when he saw Law awake. "Captain! I'm so glad you're okay!"

Law managed a weak smile. "What's the situation, Bepo?"

Bepo's expression grew serious. "We're trying to figure out what's wrong with the ships. It seems like a frost is hitting the ruins, and the water around us is becoming frozen. We're building a shelter on land in case the worst happens."

Law attempted to sit up again, but Chopper quickly intervened. "Please, Law, trust us. You need to rest."

Bepo nodded, his eyes filled with concern. "We'll take care of everything, Captain! You don't need to worry about us."

Zoro spoke up, his tone practical. "We've called Perona, but the snails aren't working due to the cold. We're waiting for her to respond."

Brook added, his voice a touch more somber. "I'll go look around the vessels for the spirit again." With that, almost everyone left the infirmary, leaving Chopper and Luffy with Law.

Moments later, Robin's voice called for Chopper and Luffy from outside. "We need you out here!"

Chopper turned to Law, his eyes serious. "Get some rest. We'll handle things."

Luffy gave Law a reassuring smile. "Yeah, we'll be back soon."

As they left, Law was alone, the room quiet except for the gentle hum of the ship. The ambient noise of the vessel's systems was a comforting constant, a stability and reminder of his surroundings. He touched his cheek where the woman had kissed him in the dream, the sensation so vivid that he could almost feel the warmth of her lips lingering on his skin. It was a soft, fleeting touch, but it had stirred something deep within him.

The dream had been so real. Her face was a blur, yet her presence felt familiar, like a memory just out of reach. Law’s mind replayed the moments over and over, trying to grasp the significance of the encounter. The emotions evoked were complex, a mix of yearning and bewilderment that left him unsettled. He had always prided himself on his rationality and control, yet this dream had pierced through his defenses, leaving him vulnerable to feelings he couldn't fully understand.

He sighed and sank into covers, the cot creaking softly under his weight. His eyes drifted to the small view port, where the vast expanse of space stretched out endlessly. The fog outside had covered everything in a thick grey blanket. The sense of isolation was profound, and in that moment, he felt the vastness of his own solitude.

Why had the dream affected him so deeply? Was it a message from his subconscious, a reflection of a hidden desire or fear? Or was it something more, something beyond the realm of his understanding? The questions swirled in his mind, refusing to settle.

Law closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm inside. He focused on the rhythmic hum of the ship, allowing its steady vibration to ground him. Yet, even as he sought tranquility, the phantom touch of the woman's kiss remained.

He sighed, the weight of his exhaustion pulling him back towards sleep. As he closed his eyes, the peace of the infirmary and the lingering warmth from the dream began to lull him. Just as he was about to drift off, a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"Hey, sleepyhead!~"

Law's eyes snapped open, the voice sending a jolt through his system. He sat up too quickly, a wave of nausea crashing over him as the room spun.

"Easy there!" the voice teased, followed by a soft giggle.

Law's vision cleared, and he recognized the woman from his dream. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, a playful smile on her lips. The spirit's vibrant red lips and voice were unmistakable, even in the dim light of the infirmary.

"Ya know," you began, your tone light and teasing, "I was getting bored waiting for you to wake up. And who knew that waving hi to you would make you so weak in the knees for me?"

Law's reaction was immediate and instinctive. He grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at you, his voice rising in a mix of anger and confusion.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

You easily dodged the pillow, giggles only intensifying. "Oh, come on now, is that any way to treat a lady?"

He threw another pillow, then reached for anything else within arm's reach – a book, a blanket, even a small medical instrument. "Get out of here! Leave me alone!"

You dodged each object with effortless grace, your laughter ringing out like a bell. "I was being nice by letting you have that sweet dream, you know. I could have bitten your face off, but I didn’t."

His eyes widened before narrowing as a hot brush crept up his neck. "You're not real!" Law yelled, his frustration mounting. "You can't be real!"

The spirit stopped dodging and stood at the foot of the bed, her expression shifting to one of mock seriousness. "Oh, but I am, my dear. You can deny it all you want, wish me away. But, I'm always here, watching over you."

She ran her fingers along the bottom of his covers and skipped over his feet before he pulled them in.

'What. The Fuck. Is. Your. Deal?!"

Law’s breath came in ragged gasps as he stared at her, his mind racing to understand what was happening. "What do you want from me?" he demanded.

The spirit floated closer, her presence both comforting and unnerving. "You can’t escape your past, Law. It’s a part of you, just as I am."

Law clenched his fists, his frustration giving way to a deep sense of helplessness. "I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone."

She reached out, her hand stopping just short of his cheek. Law shivered in anticipation, feeling the ghostly sensation of her touch lingering just out of reach. Her sharp nails glinted in the dim light, a reminder of her ethereal nature and the danger she posed.

"Everyone needs someone, Doctor. Even you," she whispered, her voice a soft caress.

Law's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest as he stared into her mesmerizing eyes. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of fear and longing that left him feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Just as she was about to touch him, the door to the infirmary burst open, and Luffy and Chopper rushed back in.

"Law! Are you okay?" Chopper exclaimed, his eyes wide with concern.

Luffy’s gaze darted around the room, his fists clenching. "What’s going on in here?"

Law blinked, the spirit suddenly gone as if she had never been there. He looked around, confusion and exhaustion warring within him. "I... I don’t know," he muttered, his voice hoarse.

Chopper hurried to his side, his medical instincts kicking in. "You need to lie down. You're still not fully recovered."

Luffy sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with worry. "We’re here for you, Law. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together."

Law nodded slowly, the events of the past few minutes blurring in his mind. As he lay back down, he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of the spirit’s presence, her words echoing in his mind.

"Your choice, Law," her voice whispered in the recesses of his thoughts. "You're running out of time." She waved to him once more before walking past the straw hats and vanishing into the air.

As Law prepared to point out the presence of the spirit to the other crew members, he suddenly realized that they really couldn't see her at all. His heart sank as he understood the truth – he was the only one who could see her. With a heavy sigh, he quickly improvised an excuse, "I want to rest in my office."

Luffy and Zoro immediately offered to help him, their concern evident in their expressions. With their assistance, Law made his way to his study, which Bepo had thankfully cleaned up. As they settled him into his chair, Chopper placed a bowl of Sanji's soup on his desk, giving him strict orders to rest.

"Aye, sir," Law responded weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Once they had left, promising to return soon, Law found himself 'alone' once more. He watched as the lights overhead flickered, a sign of her presence.

"I know you're there," he muttered, his voice tinged with resignation.

She appeared on his desk again, her expression sour. The room seemed to dim slightly as she materialized, her presence casting a subtle chill over the space. Her form flickered in and out of focus, like an image caught between dimensions, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

As much as he'd hate to admit it, Law was relieved to see her.

"You're really no fun at all when you're this kind of grumpy," she remarked, frowning deeply. Her voice echoed slightly, as if coming from a distant place, sending a shiver down Law's spine. Her fingers traced the cup of writing utensils on his desk before knocking it over.

"Something caught your eyes, Doctor?"

Law couldn't help but notice how her white dress floated around her, reminiscent of a wedding gown. It billowed softly as if caught in an unseen breeze, lending her an otherworldly elegance. Yet, beneath the ethereal facade, there was a hint of something darker, something that stirred unease in the depths of Law's soul.

"I hate when people give in so easily," she continued, plucking a few papers off his desk. Her movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, as if she were dancing to a tune only she could hear. "That doesn't make it very fun for me."

"Or maybe it's easier this way. We have so much to attend to. Such little time."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it would only provoke her further. Instead, he leaned back in his bed, watching her with a mix of irritation and curiosity. His gaze lingered on her sharp features, the delicate curve of her lips, and the piercing intensity of her eyes. There was a magnetic pull to her presence, a strange allure that he couldn't quite comprehend.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice weary.

She sighed dramatically, as if his question was the most obvious thing in the world. "You keep asking that. I find it tedious to repeat."

Law's jaw clenched at her words, his memories stirring uncomfortably. Images flashed through his mind, fragments of a past he had tried so hard to bury. He felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach, a mixture of fear and longing that threatened to consume him.

"I don't need to agree to anything," he replied, his tone sharp.

She shook her head, her expression softening slightly. "But you do, Law. You do."

With that cryptic statement, she vanished from sight, leaving Law alone in his bed, his thoughts swirling with memories he'd rather forget. As the silence settled around him, he couldn't shake the feeling of her presence lingering, like she was haunting the corners of his mind.

Speaking of ghosts-

"Come back here! I'm not finished with you!"

A stack of paperwork came flying toward his head, and Law barely managed to block it.

"You're getting on my nerves now, Law," she said, her tone laced with playful menace. She was closer now, perched at the edge of his foot-board as if she were riding a horse.

His eyes traced over the curve of her bottom and hip before looking to the dip of her tummy and waist. Her arms were bare and almost sparkled as she faded in and out of focus. The layers of her dress did nothing to hide her curves, and he found that dangerously low sweetheart neckline again, which managed to conceal her bust.

"Is this all you're going to do? Yell for me to come and go before I give you more nightmares?" she taunted, her voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. "And then salivate over me like a dog?"

She moved gracefully, her forearms now supporting her upper body on the bed while her face rested in her palms. The lights continued to play tricks on his eyes, and he felt the coldness of her figure and the purple glow of her eyes locked on him.

Law's breath hitched as she inched closer, her presence an intoxicating mix of danger and allure. He could smell her faint, floral scent, mingling with the electric tension in the room. Her eyes, deep and enigmatic, seemed to peer into his very soul, and he fought the urge to reach out and touch her. She was a ghost, an illusion, but the heat in his chest was undeniably real.

"You're haunting me," he murmured, his voice strained with a mixture of frustration and longing. "Why do you keep coming back?" He was going crazy at this point.

She laughed softly, the sound like silk brushing against his skin. "I don't know," she said, her lips curling into a teasing smile, "maybe because you make me feel alive."

Her words hung in the air, thick with implication, and Law felt his resolve waver. Every part of him ached to pull her closer, to feel her cool skin against his, to lose himself in her haunting beauty. But he knew better than to trust a ghost, even one as captivating as her.

"They all think you're crazy, ya know?" she whispered, stalking closer to him, her form now almost catlike. He subconsciously swallowed a lump in his throat he hadn't known was there before.

"Poor baby, you really liked that dream earlier, didn't you?" she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. He had a clear view of her plush cleavage now, as she continued to crawl closer.

"You liked it, didn't you?" she repeated, smiling that perfect smile again, her plump red lips revealing her sharp canines.

Law's heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of anger, fear, and something he didn't want to acknowledge. Her presence was overwhelming, her beauty intoxicating in a way that made him feel weak. "Get out of my head," he demanded, his voice trembling slightly despite his efforts to sound strong.

She laughed softly, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, Law, I'm not in your head. I'm right here," she said, her fingers trailing along the edge of his bed as she moved even closer.

"Why fight it? Why not enjoy it?"

Her eyes locked onto his, a dangerous blend of mischief and longing. She was close enough now that he could feel the coolness emanating from her skin, a stark contrast to the burning heat pooling within his tummy. Her touch was light, teasing, as her fingers traced up his arm. Law flinched at the freezing contact but didn't pull away.

"You can't deny it," she whispered, her breath ghosting over his ear, sending another shiver down his spine. "You crave this, crave me."

Her words wrapped around his mind like a vice, squeezing out any coherent thought. He hated how easily she unraveled him, how her mere presence could reduce him to this state of helpless desire. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white with the effort of resisting her pull.

"You're wrong," he managed to say, though his voice lacked conviction. Law clenched his fists, trying to hold on to his sanity. "Because you're not real. You're just a figment of my imagination," he insisted.

She moved her hand to his cheek, her touch cold yet strangely comforting. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you sure about that?" she asked, her voice a low whisper. "I feel pretty real to me." She placed a hand softly on her bust line and leaned closer.

"Reality is overrated," she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. "What's wrong with indulging in a little fantasy?"

Her lips were tantalizingly close to his, and he could see the flicker of amusement in her eyes, the satisfaction of knowing she had him cornered. The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with tension and unspoken desire. Law felt himself leaning into her touch, the battle within him slipping away as her allure grew impossible to resist.

He wanted to argue, to push her away, but the warmth of her breath on his skin and the intense gaze of her eyes were making it difficult to think clearly. "What do you want from me?" he asked again, his voice almost a plea this time.

She smiled, a hint of something dangerous in her eyes. "I want you to remember, Law. Remember your dream, remember the love we shared," she said, her fingers brushing against his cheek. The touch was cold, but it sent a jolt of electricity through him.

Law's mind raced, fragments of memories flashing before his eyes. He saw glimpses of a life he had tried to forget, moments of happiness and pain intertwined. "I can't," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I can't go back."

She leaned in closer, her lips inches from his. "You can't run from your past forever, Law. Sooner or later, it catches up to you," she murmured, her breath sending another shiver down his spine.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out her words, but they echoed in his mind. He knew she was right, but the thought of facing those memories was almost too much to bear. "Leave me alone," he pleaded, his voice barely audible.

"You know you want to," she said, her voice a siren's call. "Just let go, Law. Let yourself feel."

"NO!"

Regaining his will, Law managed to turn his cheek at the last second. Her lips brushed against his skin, a mere whisper away from where he had almost lost himself. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and despite his momentary resistance, he found it nearly impossible to pull away completely.

Her breath was cool against his cheek, her proximity intoxicating. Law's heart pounded as he fought to maintain control, but her presence was overwhelming, and the desire she ignited in him was fierce and unrelenting. He could feel the darkness creeping in, the edges of his consciousness blurring as she pressed closer.

"Why fight it?" she whispered, her voice a seductive murmur against his ear. "You can't resist me forever."

With a surge of determination, Law grabbed her wrists, but instead of pulling away, he used his strength to pin her down onto the bed. Her eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of excitement dancing within them. He hovered over her, his breath ragged and his pulse racing.

"Enough," he said, his voice rough with effort. "I won't let you control me."

She squirmed beneath him, a mix of frustration and desire evident in her movements. "Such a stubborn man," she said, her tone almost affectionate. "But you're only delaying the inevitable."

He tightened his grip on her wrists, holding her firmly against the mattress. Her body was cold beneath his, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through his veins. He could see the defiance in her eyes, but also a challenge, daring him to resist her pull.

As he lay there, trying to steady his breathing, he couldn't shake the feeling of her touch lingering on his skin. The coldness of her fingers, the intensity of her gaze – it all felt too real to be just a dream. And as much as he wanted to deny it, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if she was right. If his past was truly catching up to him, and if he had any hope of escaping it.

"Leave," he demanded, his voice gaining strength. "Get out of my head and my life."

She sighed softly, her hand cupping his cheek. "For now," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "But I'll be back, Law. And next time, you won't be able to push me away."

For a moment, they were locked in a tense standoff, his body pinning hers to the bed, his breath mingling with hers in the charged air between them. Then, slowly, her form began to fade, slipping through his grasp like smoke.

As she vanished, Law collapsed onto the bed, his body trembling with the aftermath of their encounter. He knew she was right. She would return, and he would have to face her again.

"Fuck,"

Law was now alone in the dimly lit room, his mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. He slumped back against his pillow, exhaustion and turmoil weighing heavily on him. He knew he needed to rest, but the thought of closing his eyes and facing the possibility of another dream with her was almost too much.

As he lay there, trying to steady his breathing, he couldn't shake the feeling of her touch lingering on his skin. The icy coldness of her fingers, the intensity of her gaze, her body under his, her captivating voice, her attention – it all felt too real to be just a dream. And as much as he wanted to deny it, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if she was right. If his past was truly catching up to him, and if he had any hope of escaping it.

With a heavy sigh, Law closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. But even in the darkness, he couldn't escape the memories that haunted him, the ghost he was trying so hard to forget.

Law sighed, his fingers massaging his temples as he tried to make sense of everything. The spirit's words echoed in his mind, but he couldn't dwell on them. Not now. He was about to lean back when the door to his study opened again, as Bepo, Luffy, and Franky entered.

"We still can't figure out why the power is draining," Franky said, his brow furrowed with frustration. The usual confidence in his mechanical prowess was absent, replaced by genuine concern. "But Robin found the rock Luffy kicked into the submarine. She was about to put it back, but we thought you might want to see it first."

Law sat up a bit straighter, nodding. "Bring it here," he instructed, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. He tried to push the lingering presence of the spirit from his mind, focusing on the problem at hand.

Luffy glanced at the untouched soup on Law's desk, his eyes narrowing with a mix of concern and curiosity. "You need to eat, Law," he said, a hint of worry in his eyes. "It's weird, though. It's still hot after all this time."

Law's focus wavered, his thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm. He hadn't even noticed the soup, its steam still curling lazily into the air. Luffy, impatient as ever, grabbed the bowl and practically shoved it into Law's hands. "Eat," he insisted, his voice brooking no argument.

Law sighed but took a spoonful of the soup, the warmth spreading through him like a soothing balm. The rich aroma of the broth mingled with the lingering scent of the spirit, creating a bizarre contrast that made his head spin. "Fine, I'll eat," he muttered, reluctantly accepting another spoonful from Luffy before taking over himself. The heat of the soup was a stark reminder of his physical needs, grounding him in the present moment.

Bepo stepped forward, holding out the rock carefully. "Here it is, Captain," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity. The rock was unremarkable at first glance, but Law knew better than to dismiss anything as ordinary in their world.

Law took the rock, examining it closely. Its surface was rough, but there was something almost magnetic about it, a faint hum of energy that resonated with the submarine's systems. He could feel the power within it, a strange pulse that seemed to sync with his own heartbeat.

"What do you make of it?" Franky asked, leaning over to get a closer look. His mechanical eye whirred as it adjusted focus, trying to analyze the rock's composition.

Law frowned, turning the rock over in his hands. "It's not just any rock," he said slowly, feeling the weight of his words. "There's something embedded in it, something that's draining our power." He looked up, meeting their eyes. "We need to figure out what it is and how to neutralize it."

Luffy, still hovering nearby, finally relaxed a bit, seeing Law more engaged. "Good. Then you can get back to full strength," he said with a nod. "And make sure you finish that soup."

Law managed a small smile, appreciating Luffy's blunt concern. "Thanks, Luffy," he said, taking another spoonful of the soup. The warmth continued to spread through him, mingling with the determination that now filled his mind. For now, that was enough to push the spirit's haunting presence to the back of his thoughts.

Bepo watched anxiously. "Please don't get sick, Captain," he pleaded, his worry evident in his wide, expressive eyes.

Robin entered the room, the strange rock in her hands. She placed it carefully on Law's desk, her movements precise and deliberate. "I have updates," she said, her voice calm and steady.

"We've made some progress with the shelter on the land by the ruins. Franky and Usopp have done a good job, but the fog and snowstorm are messing with Nami. She's fallen ill, and Penguin is sick as well. Chopper is taking care of them."

Law's agitation grew, his sense of responsibility weighing heavily on him. He felt a familiar pang of guilt settle in his chest. "It's my fault," he muttered, guilt gnawing at him. "I should have been more careful."

Luffy, noticing Law's distress, turned to Robin. "Robin, there's something else. A spirit has been bothering Law. We think it's connected to all this."

Robin's eyes widened slightly, her keen intellect immediately processing the new information. She thought for a moment before speaking. "A spirit? That could explain the strange weather and the sickness. Perhaps we disturbed her or disrespected the ruins, and this is her way of retaliating."

Law's jaw tightened as he processed her words. "What do we do about it, then? How do we fix this?" He turned to Luffy. "Has Zoro been able to contact Perona?"

Luffy shook his head. "We were able to speak to her for a few minutes, but whatever she was trying to say was lost in the static."

Robin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him. "First, we need to understand more about her and her connection to these ruins. Maybe there's a way to appease her or set things right."

Franky nodded, his mechanical arm gleaming in the dim light. "Yeah, we can’t let this spirit keep messing with us. We'll figure it out, Captain."

Luffy grinned, his confidence unshaken and infectious. "We'll take care of this together. Don't worry, Law."

Law took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The weight of his crew's expectations and the responsibility of their wellbeing pressed down on him, but he knew he couldn't afford to falter. "Alright," he said, determination creeping back into his voice. "Let's figure this out."

Robin's thoughtful expression turned to one of determination. "I'll start researching more about these ruins. There must be some clues about the spirit and how to appease her."

Luffy patted Law's back with a reassuring smile. "And you keep resting. We'll handle the rest."

Law nodded, taking another spoonful of the soup. But the food didn't sit well in his stomach now, churning with the anxiety and guilt he felt. His mind was still buzzing with thoughts of the spirit and the dream, but for now, he focused on the task at hand. They had to figure this out, for the sake of the crew.

The strange rock lay on his desk, a silent enigma that held part of the answer to their troubles. Law's fingers traced its rough surface, feeling the faint hum of energy within it.

"We'll start with this," he said, his voice resolute. "Whatever's inside this rock, it's connected to the spirit. We need to understand its nature and how to neutralize it."

Robin nodded, already deep in thought. "I'll analyze it further and see what I can find. Meanwhile, we need to gather as much information as possible about the ruins and the spirit."

Law looked around at his friends, their faces filled with determination and loyalty. They were in this together, and he drew strength from their unwavering support. "Thank you, everyone," he said quietly, his heart swelling with gratitude. "We'll get through this. I promise."

His mind was still buzzing with thoughts of the spirit and the dream, but for now, he focused on the task at hand. They had to figure this out, for the sake of the crew.

Robin left the room to start her research, and Franky followed to help where he could. Bepo lingered a moment longer, looking at his captain with concern.

"Don't worry, Bepo," Law said, managing a small smile. "We'll get through this."

Bepo nodded, his expression determined. "Yes, Captain."

As they all left the room, Law sighed and leaned back in his chair. The lights overhead flickered again, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the spirit was watching him.

"I know you're here," he said quietly, waiting.

Law's eyes followed the spirit as she appeared by his bookshelf, her form shimmering slightly. She looked almost amused as she glanced at him. "What, do you wanna pick up where we left off?" Her voice wasn't as teasing this time, a hint of something more serious lurking beneath.

She cast a disdainful look at the rock on his desk. Law picked it up, observing her reaction. She rolled her eyes. "I'm not afraid of the stone," she said, and as he quirked an eyebrow at her, she sighed. "And no, you can't get rid of me by putting it back."

Law set the rock down and took a seat at his desk. "You kept my soup hot," he stated, more than questioned.

She shrugged, casually picking through his reading selection. "You need to be somewhat healthy for me to mess with you."

He watched her finger his figurines before asking, "Why did you let me touch you?"

She stopped, and the room held its breath. Then, she continued rifling through his books. "I wanted to see what you would do."

"Was that a test of some sort?" he asked, his annoyance growing. He began to creep his chair closer to her, hoping she wouldn't notice.

Her gaze flicked to him, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Maybe," she said cryptically, her eyes glinting with mischief. "But then again, maybe I just wanted to feel something." She paused, her expression growing serious.

You worry about the wrong things, Law. You and that Straw Hat boy have a very sweet crew out there."

This statement caused Law to stop moving. "I thought you were only here to bother me."

She turned her back to him again, continuing to flip through the pages of a particularly interesting book. "I never said they were off the table either. I must say though, that Lady, Robin, is my favorite so far. Such a shame, though. Really, it truly is."

"What is?"

"They're the best crew I've seen here in eons, and yet it won't stop what's about to happen."

Law's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the spirit's words. The cryptic warning hung heavy in the air, a looming shadow over their already precarious situation. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not when the safety of his crew was at stake.

His thoughts turned to his comrades, each one dear to him in their own way. They were more than just a crew; they were his family, his nakama. And he would do whatever it took to keep them safe, even if it meant facing down the darkest of threats.

"What are you talking about?" he asked in a low, dangerous tone.

"Oh, you know," she said, thumbing another page. "Accidents happen pretty often in old ruins. Especially when..."

The room grew colder, the lights flickering between too bright and too dim, making it hard for Law to focus on her. Her dress, he now noticed, was backless, an eerie elegance to her form.

"...especially when spirits are involved," she finished, her voice dripping with menace. "All it takes is one misstep, one moment of distraction, and—"

Law's patience snapped. He grabbed the rock and hurled it at her feet. The spirit disappeared just before it struck, leaving the rock to clatter on the floor.

"I thought you weren't afraid of the stone?"

The spirit reappeared on his desk, her presence looming over him like a dark cloud as she used her heeled foot to turn him around to face her. Grabbing the cuff of his shirt, she pulled him close, her icy nails digging into his throat as she tightened her grip.

"Did you really think that was a smart idea?" she hissed, her breath cold against his skin. Despite being shorter than him, she effortlessly lifted him and hurled him to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, only to duck as she launched his entire desk at him.

"You mocked me one step too far," she declared, her voice filled with fury. He used his Devil Fruit powers to shield himself from the barrage, looking up at her from behind his barrier.

As she threw the chair at him, she taunted, "You don't really believe in me, do you? Or my power." The room grew colder, a small storm brewing inside. Law could hear the Polar Tang's alarms going off, his crewmates banging on the door, trying to open it.

Locking eyes with Law, she smirked and touched the door handle, freezing it shut. He could hear Bepo shouting about the sub going down soon and the urgency to get him out so Robin could place the sub on land.

Law's heart raced as he faced off against the enraged spirit, her power threatening to overwhelm him. He could feel the weight of her anger pressing down on him, a suffocating force that threatened to crush him under its weight.

With a surge of adrenaline, Law pushed himself to his feet, his mind racing as he searched for a way to turn the tide of the battle. He couldn't afford to let his crew down, not when they were depending on him to protect them.

Gritting his teeth, Law focused his will, channeling his Devil Fruit powers to create a barrier around himself, shielding him from the onslaught of furniture and debris. But even as he defended himself, he knew he couldn't keep this up forever. The spirit was relentless, her fury fueling her attacks as she sought to destroy everything in her path.

Desperation clawed at Law's chest as he struggled to find a way out of this deadly game of cat and mouse. He could hear his crewmates' voices growing fainter as the Polar Tang sank deeper into the icy depths below. Time was running out, and he knew he had to act fast if he wanted to save them all.

"Now they get to suffer because of you," she whispered, her voice echoing in his mind.

Law's blood ran cold as the spirit's words echoed through the chaos, her voice dripping with malice. He watched in horror as she lifted the rock, her grip tightening around it like a vise. "Ya know," she sneered, her eyes glinting with wicked delight, "I was going to let them all live."

His heart hammered in his chest, a surge of panic coursing through him. Fear for the lives of his crew and friends gripped him tightly. He felt helpless, vulnerable, as he faced this powerful spirit alone. The weight of responsibility bore down on him as he realized the consequences of his actions.

"No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of screams and sirens. "You can't..."

But before he could finish, the spirit's laughter cut through the air like a knife, chilling him to the bone. With a cruel twist of her powers, she hurled the rock against the floor of the sub beneath his feet, the impact shattering it with a deafening crack.

Water gushed into the sub with terrifying force, flooding the cramped space in an instant. Law stumbled backward, his heart pounding in his ears as the icy tendrils of seawater wrapped around him like a suffocating embrace.

The screams of his crewmates mingled with the wail of the sirens, a symphony of terror that filled the air. He could feel the panic rising within him, threatening to consume him whole.

Desperately, Law tried to summon his Devil Fruit powers, but the saltwater seeping into his wounds rendered them useless. He could feel his strength draining away with each passing moment, his vision swimming as darkness crept in at the edges.

"Please," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to stay conscious. "Stop this..."

But his plea fell on deaf ears as the spirit continued her rampage, her laughter echoing in his ears like a haunting melody. He knew he was running out of time, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as the water closed in around him.

With one last effort, Law reached out to the spirit, his hand trembling as he tried to make contact. "Listen to me," he pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. "Please, just listen..."

But his words were lost in the chaos, swallowed up by the roar of the sea and the screams of his doomed crewmates. And as darkness danced across his vision, Law knew that he had failed them all.

Law's desperation surged as he struggled to stay afloat amidst the chaos. With the water rising around him, he knew he had to act fast.

"I'll make a deal with you!"

To his surprise, the spirit paused, the storm around them slowing to a crawl. Time seemed to stretch, each moment drawn out to an agonizing eternity.

"So now you want to make a deal? Okay," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she sat down on his desk and crossed her legs. Law could see her face now, her features illuminated by the eerie glow of her purple eyes. Her expression was hardened, her gaze like shards of ice.

"Go on," she taunted, her lips curling into a mocking smirk. "Plead your case."

Law heaved a ragged breath, suppressing a groan as he struggled to gather his thoughts. "I offer myself and my services to helping you," he began, his voice steady despite the pain coursing through his body. "But only if you agree not to harm anyone else."

The spirit scoffed, her laughter echoing in the stillness of the room. "And why should I listen to you?" she countered, her tone laced with contempt. "You're in no condition to make demands of me."

Anguish washed over Law as he thought of his crewmates, their lives hanging in the balance. "I don't want my crew hurt," he insisted, his voice pleading. "I have a right to know what I'm getting myself into."

The spirit's eyes narrowed, a flicker of amusement dancing in their depths. "Where is your humanity, spirit?" Law demanded, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Beg for it," she replied, her voice a cold whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

For a moment, Law looked at her with pure hatred, the weight of his powerlessness crushing him. But then, with a resigned sigh, he knelt down on the floor, his head bowed in submission.

He heard faint footsteps approach him, the sound echoing in the silence of the room. And then, suddenly, he felt her heel lift his chin, forcing him to look up at her.

Their eyes locked, Law's gaze filled with defiance even as his heart pounded in his chest. He knew he was taking a risk, placing his trust in a being he could barely comprehend. But in that moment, he had no other choice.

"Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do whatever it takes to save my crew. Just... don't let them suffer because of me."

The spirit's presence seemed to loom larger as she dropped Law's head, her form radiating an eerie calmness that belied the chaos surrounding them. The dim light of the room cast haunting shadows across her features as she spoke, her voice carrying a weight of centuries-old longing.

"I want you to find my body," she stated, her words hanging heavily in the air like a dark omen. Law's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of her request.

"Your body?" he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yes," she affirmed, her tone unwavering. "My physical form lies hidden within the depths of these ruins. I need you to free it for me."

As Law processed her words, a surge of questions flooded his mind, but he pushed them aside, his thoughts instinctively turning to his crewmates. With a solemn nod, he fought to steady himself, using the bookshelf for support as he rose to his feet.

Her expression remained unreadable as she dropped his head and stepped back, a mysterious aura surrounding her. "You can't live in those ruins," Law stated firmly, his tone laced with authority.

She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and irritation. "Really? I wasn't aware," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She examined her pointed nails with disinterest, seemingly unfazed by his assertion.

Law, undeterred by her attitude, held his hand out to her once more, determination in his eyes. "Regardless, I can't let you stay there," he insisted, his voice unwavering.

She regarded him with a skeptical gaze before finally relenting. "Fine," she conceded, a hint of begrudging acceptance in her tone. "But on one condition."

Law raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue.

"I want you to find my body," she stated firmly. "Once that's done, you may choose one thing from the ruins to take back with you. Then, you must leave and never return."

Holding his hand out to her, he gave her his word that he would help her.

She regarded him with a look of disgust, refusing his offer. "Try again," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Law bit down the frustration bubbling in his throat before mustering the question. "What do you want me to swear on?"

She regarded him for a moment, a calculating glint in her eyes. "Swear on something more important than yourself," she replied, her voice insistent.

Law fell silent, contemplating her demand. Finally, he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction. "I swear on the kindness of Rosinante Corazon," he declared, his words firm and unwavering.

Her expression softened slightly as she searched his face for any sign of deception. Finding none, she nodded in acknowledgment. "Very well," she conceded. "I will not harm or kill your comrades, in addition to helping you find what you seek."

Law nodded in acceptance, holding his hand out once more in a gesture of agreement. However, she giggled and shook her head, her amusement evident. "No, dear," she said teasingly.

"I'll need something else."

With an exasperated huff, Law relented, allowing himself to fall forward. She caught him effortlessly in her arms, a small smile playing on her lips as she held him close.

As the water continued to rise, Law couldn't help but notice how it seemed to cling to her gown, the fabric dampening and molding to her form in a way that was both ethereal and unsettling. Each ripple of water seemed to caress her figure, accentuating the curves of her body in a way that was almost hypnotic.

The fabric, once pristine and flowing, now clung to her like a second skin, the dampness making it translucent in places, revealing glimpses of the pale skin beneath. Her gown, once a symbol of elegance and grace, now seemed to mirror the eerie beauty of the underwater world around them, the dim light filtering through the water casting an otherworldly glow on her form.

Despite the danger closing in around them, Law couldn't tear his eyes away from her, captivated by the way the water seemed to dance around her, enhancing her allure in ways he couldn't begin to comprehend. Each movement she made sent ripples through the water, the fabric of her gown swirling around her like a silken veil.

Even in the midst of chaos, there was a haunting beauty to her, a delicate fragility that seemed to defy the darkness closing in around them. And as Law struggled to keep his head above water, he found himself drawn to her even more, the allure of her presence eclipsing the fear that threatened to consume him.

Law felt a sense of urgency building within him. He struggled against the weight of his own body, the air growing thin as panic threatened to overwhelm him. Through the haze of his distress, he fixed his gaze on her, searching for any sign of relenting.

Her eyes, glacial and piercing, bore into his, holding him in a mesmerizing trance. The dim light flickered around them, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the tension crackled in the air.

Their faces were mere inches apart now, his breath mingling with hers in the cold, damp air. Law could feel the chill of her touch seeping into his skin, sending shivers down his spine even as her closeness stirred something warmer within him.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they lingered in the space between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Law's heart hammered in his chest, his pulse echoing in his ears as he waited for her response.

Then, with a soft exhale, she leaned in closer, her lips hovering tantalizingly close to his. The air crackled with anticipation, the tension between them reaching a fever pitch as they teetered on the edge of something unknown.

"The sub is going down fast," he gasped, his voice strained with urgency. "Do we have a deal?"

The spirit hummed thoughtfully, her fingers tracing the lines of Law's jaw as she cupped his cheeks in her hands.

"Deal," she whispered, her voice sending shivers down his spine. And as darkness closed in around him, Law felt her seal their pact, a fleeting brush of her skin against his, sending a explosive surge of cold warmth coursing through him even as the darkness closed in.

"If only he knew what he had just signed himself up for.~"

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@mororona @mochiclouds @@xxsliverwolfxx @sosongstrawberry

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Posted on the ao3 account as well.

Part 1 Here. Part 2 Here.

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Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

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