#wc marketplace

[honeyhae-svt]

I was up all night thinking about a wonwoo fic. Bunny hybrid x Wonwoo. it just fits wonwoo more cus like, he's a nerd, and a computer kind of guy, going to the dark internet just to explore some sht or for fun then he comes across a bunny hybrid for sale in the marketplace. Please notice. Ily and thankyou <3 (ps. i chose to request this to you cus i love your fics sm)

Lean On Me - 내게 기대

Jeon Wonwoo x F!Reader

genre / tags: fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, hybrid AU, bunny!reader x human!wonwoo, gentle dom!wonwoo, breeding Kink (mild undertones), cockwarming (i will never shut up about wonwoo cockwarming), aftercare, established feelings warnings: NSFW (18+ only): explicit smut, detailed descriptions of sexual acts, hybrid characteristics (reader has bunny ears, slight animalistic instincts), mentions of past mistreatment/trauma (handled with care), overstimulation, clingy/intimate dynamic due to reader’s heat cycle, emotional vulnerability during aftercare. smut warnings: fingering, oral (f. receiving), penetration (piv), breeding kink implications (no pregnancy mentioned), cockwarming 9it's just so wonwoo), unprotected sex, sensual dominance from wonwoo, consensual and soft tone throughout. wc: 10,379 a/n: i think i've been writing wonwoo fics too much. i'm in love with jeonghan pls come back. (honestly, i love wonwoo sm too). DON'T LIKE DON"T READ please wtf this is animal play. seventeen taglist: @archivistworld <33 (no pressure, but if you want to be added on my taglists, there's a form i made (check my pinned post and click on "join taglist".) Preview: "Wonwoo’s fingers traced along the edge of your thigh, moving with a patience that made you ache even more. The heat within you pulsed stronger with every gentle touch, every whispered reassurance. ‘Wonwoo... please,’ you whimpered, burying your face in his chest as your tears soaked into his shirt. His voice was low, soothing, as he kissed the crown of your head. ‘I know, bunny. Let me take care of you.’ When his fingers slipped inside you, the relief was instant yet fleeting. The heat still burned, demanding more. And as his lips brushed against your own, you knew you were in safe hands, even as your instincts screamed for something primal.In the aftermath, with his shirt draped over you and his scent everywhere, you curled into his chest. Wonwoo's fingers lazily stroked your ears, his quiet promise lingering in the air. ‘I’ll keep you safe, always.’”

Wonwoo sat in the dim light of his apartment, the soft hum of his computer the only sound in the room. The clock on the wall ticked past 2 a.m., but sleep was the last thing on his mind. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the keyboard as he navigated a hidden marketplace on the dark web.

The site's interface was crude, with grainy images and glitchy text. He wasn't here for anything specific—this was just something he did when he was bored. It wasn't about breaking laws or finding trouble. For Wonwoo, the dark web was a rabbit hole of bizarre curiosities: forums about conspiracy theories, marketplaces selling counterfeit antiques, and coded discussions he'd never understand. Tonight, however, something caught his eye.

A new listing had appeared at the top of the page:

"Hybrid Companion for Sale - Limited Edition, One of a Kind."

The thumbnail image showed a woman, or at least, what looked like one. She had delicate bunny ears that drooped slightly, pale white skin, and wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to stare right through the screen. Her hair was soft and silvery, cascading over her shoulders like freshly fallen snow.

Wonwoo furrowed his brows, unsure whether to laugh or close the tab. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, leaning closer. It had to be a hoax, right? Some twisted art project or a desperate scam. But the listing's details were oddly... thorough:

"Bunny Hybrid #1438 Condition: New, untested. Perfect for companionship. Compliant and affectionate. Warning: For indoor use only. Price: 0.15 BTC (approx. ₩5,850,300 KRW - 4,000 USD) Delivery: Discreet, within 48 hours."

Wonwoo's skepticism grew. Untested? Indoor use? The phrasing felt clinical, like she was some kind of product. A chill ran down his spine, but curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked the listing.

The description expanded, revealing more photos. They showed her sitting on a minimalist chair in an empty white room, her ears twitching slightly. She wore a simple white dress, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The closer he looked, the harder it was to dismiss her as a mannequin or a clever CGI creation. She looked alive.

Wonwoo's hand hovered over the keyboard. This was insane. Why was he even considering this? But something about her expression in the photos stopped him. She didn't look scared or sad—just... empty, like she didn't know she was being sold.

"It's fake," he told himself. "It's probably fake."

But the listing had a countdown timer. "Auction closes in 10 minutes."

Before he knew it, Wonwoo had opened his crypto wallet. His fingers moved on autopilot, transferring the required amount to the provided address. The process felt surreal, like he was watching someone else make the decision for him. When the transaction confirmed, he stared at the screen, half expecting the site to crash or for the listing to disappear.

Instead, a message popped up: "Purchase Confirmed. Delivery instructions will follow shortly."

His stomach twisted. What had he just done?

Minutes later, an encrypted email arrived with a single line of text:

"Pick-up location: [Redacted]. Arrive at 11 p.m. tomorrow. Alone."

Wonwoo closed the laptop and pressed his palms against his face. This was either the biggest mistake of his life or the start of something he couldn't quite name.

The next night, Wonwoo pulled his hoodie tighter around himself as he approached the location—an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The air was damp, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. His heart raced, every instinct screaming at him to turn back.

Inside, the space was dimly lit, with a single crate in the center of the room. No guards, no people. Just the crate.

He approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. The crate was wooden, with slats that allowed him to see inside. He crouched down, peering through the gaps.

You were there, curled up and motionless. Your bunny ears twitched slightly, the only sign you were alive. Up close, you looked even more delicate. Your pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the dim light, and your breathing was soft and steady. You wore the same white dress from the photos, now slightly crumpled.

Wonwoo swallowed hard, unsure of what to do. He tapped lightly on the crate.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up slowly, your gaze locking onto his. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, you tilted your head, your bunny ears perking up slightly as if studying him.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "I'm... Wonwoo."

You didn't respond, your expression unreadable. Slowly, you reached out, pressing your hand against the slats of the crate. Your fingers were slender, your nails neatly trimmed. Wonwoo hesitated before pressing his own hand against yours, the wood separating you.

"I'm here to take you home," he said, his voice soft.

You blinked, your ears twitching again. And for the first time, your lips parted.

"Home?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo sat on the couch, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You sat on the floor near the coffee table, your posture tense and ears twitching as you took in your new surroundings. You hadn't said much since leaving the warehouse, only responding with short nods or quiet murmurs when he asked if you were okay.

The silence was suffocating. Wonwoo cleared his throat. "Uh, are you hungry? Thirsty?"

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. "Thirsty... what's that?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Thirsty. Like... do you want water?" He stood and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it from the tap. "Here."

You hesitated before taking the glass from his hands. Your fingers brushed his, and he noticed how cool your skin felt. Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a tentative sip, your nose wrinkling slightly at the taste.

"It's... plain," you muttered, setting the glass down.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's just water. I guess you're not used to it."

You shrugged, your ears flicking forward. "I don't remember what I'm used to."

That caught him off guard. He crouched down to meet your gaze, his tone careful. "You don't remember anything? Not even where you came from?"

You shook your head, looking away. "Just... flashes. Bright lights. Voices. Nothing else."

Wonwoo frowned, a pang of guilt settling in his chest. Whatever you'd been through, it wasn't normal. He couldn't shake the feeling that you'd been treated more like an object than a person.

"Hey," he said gently, "you don't have to figure everything out right now. Just... take it one step at a time, okay?"

You looked back at him, your wide eyes softening slightly. "Why are you being nice to me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to answer. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I felt like I couldn't just leave you there."

Your lips curled into the faintest smile, and for the first time, your shoulders relaxed.

Later that night, as Wonwoo set up a makeshift bed for you on the couch, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching him. He double-checked the locks on the windows and doors, his paranoia rising. It didn't make sense; no one had followed him, and the pickup had been clean.

"Wonwoo?" Your voice broke his train of thought.

He turned to see you standing by the couch, your bunny ears drooping slightly. "Yeah?"

"Are you... afraid of me?"

The question hit him like a truck. "What? No! Why would you think that?"

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "Because... they were. The people before you."

Wonwoo's stomach twisted. He approached you slowly, hands raised as if to reassure you. "I'm not afraid of you," he said firmly. "Whatever happened before, it's over. You're safe here."

You studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Okay."

But as you lay down on the couch and he retreated to his room, he couldn't shake the unease creeping over him. Something wasn't right.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Wonwoo lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. His thoughts kept circling back to you—your hesitance, your fragility, and the way your ears twitched slightly every time he spoke.

A soft creak pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned his head toward the door, catching sight of your silhouette in the faint glow of the hallway light.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice low.

You hesitated before stepping further into the room. "I don't think I've ever slept on a couch before."

Wonwoo sat up, rubbing his face. "Oh. Sorry about that. I should've—"

"It's not bad," you interrupted, your voice soft. "It's just... quiet."

The words made his chest tighten. "Do you want to sit?" He patted the edge of the bed.

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the floor before you shuffled closer, perching on the edge of the mattress. The tension in your shoulders was unmistakable.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

You glanced at him, your ears twitching slightly. "Talk about what?"

"Whatever's on your mind."

A soft, humorless laugh escaped your lips. "You really want to hear it?"

He nodded, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah. I do."

You sighed, your gaze fixed on your hands. "I don't know who I am. I don't know why I was there or what they wanted from me. All I know is... every time I think about going back, it feels like my chest is caving in."

Wonwoo's hands clenched into fists. He hated the thought of you being scared, of someone putting you in a position where fear was all you knew.

"You're not going back," he said firmly.

Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I won't let it happen," he said, his voice steady. "I don't know how or why I ended up finding you, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you now that you're here."

The weight of his words hung in the air. Your ears lowered slightly, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of relief in your expression.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Without thinking, Wonwoo reached out, his hand brushing against yours. Your fingers twitched but didn't pull away. It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental.

"You're not alone anymore," he murmured.

For the first time, the tight knot in your chest loosened.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up to the smell of burnt toast. Groaning, he stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen.

There you were, standing by the toaster with a frown, a slightly charred piece of bread in your hand.

"Uh, what's going on?" he asked, stifling a laugh.

You turned, your cheeks flushing pink. "I thought I'd try to... cook. But it's harder than I thought."

He walked over, taking the toast from your hand. "You're supposed to set the timer, not just guess."

You crossed your arms, your nose scrunching in frustration. "Well, no one told me that."

Wonwoo couldn't hold back his laughter this time. The sound startled you, and before you knew it, you found yourself laughing too. It was small and hesitant at first, but then it grew, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you.

It was the first time he saw you smile.

And damn, it made his heart stutter.

After breakfast—well, what could be salvaged from your experimental cooking—Wonwoo sat across from you at the small dining table. He had insisted on making the second round of toast himself, and now the two of you sat in companionable silence, nibbling on toast and sipping coffee (or, in your case, a very sugary cup that he'd adjusted after seeing you gag at the first sip).

"So," Wonwoo said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Do you have a name?"

You froze mid-bite, your ears perking up. "A name?"

He nodded, his eyes soft. "Yeah. What do people call you? Or... did they call you anything?"

You frowned, the question pulling at a thread of memory that seemed just out of reach. "I... think it's Y/N," you said slowly, the name feeling both familiar and strange on your tongue.

"Y/N," Wonwoo repeated, testing it out. He smiled slightly. "It suits you."

A blush crept up your neck, and you quickly looked down at your plate. "It's just a name."

"It's your name," he corrected gently. "That makes it special."

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. No one had ever spoken to you like this—like you were a person, not a thing.

"But," he added, leaning back in his chair with a playful smirk, "I think I'll call you Bun instead."

"Bun?" You blinked, your nose wrinkling slightly.

"Yeah," he said, his smirk widening. "You've got bunny ears, and it's cute. Just like you."

Your ears twitched furiously at the compliment, and you couldn't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks. "You can't just—say things like that."

"Why not?" he teased, his voice light. "It's true."

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the way your lips twitched upward. "Fine. Then I'm calling you Woo. See how you like it."

He chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "Woo, huh? I think I can live with that."

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a genuine warmth blooming in your chest—a feeling you didn't quite know how to name.

That evening, the two of you ended up on the couch, a random movie playing in the background as Wonwoo showed you how to navigate the TV remote. You had leaned closer to him, your curiosity outweighing your usual cautiousness.

"And this button changes the volume," he explained, his voice low.

You nodded, your face scrunched in concentration as you tried it out. The sound of the TV grew louder, and you quickly pressed the button again to lower it, a triumphant smile lighting up your face.

"See? Easy," he said, his lips quirking up as he watched you.

You turned to him, your smile fading slightly as you realized how close you were. His face was only inches from yours, his dark eyes steady and unreadable.

"Woo?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He tilted his head, his gaze softening. "I already told you. You deserve to feel safe."

"But why do you care so much?" you pressed, your eyes searching his face for answers.

He hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Maybe because you remind me that... not everything in this world is as cold as it seems. You're... different, Bun. And I want to protect that."

Your breath caught in your throat. No one had ever spoken to you like that—like you were something worth protecting, worth caring for.

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the world had shifted.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Wonwoo's hand turned, his fingers curling gently around yours. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "Just... stay. That's enough."

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you had found a place where you truly belonged.

The night deepened, the warm glow of the living room casting soft shadows on the walls. Wonwoo had stepped into the kitchen to grab some water, leaving you curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders.

You tugged the fabric closer, your thoughts swirling. For the first time in forever, you didn't feel like you had to be on guard. You didn't have to hide or brace yourself for what might come next.

But that didn't stop the memories from creeping in.

"Bun?" Wonwoo's voice broke through the fog. He was standing in front of you now, holding out a glass of water. "You okay?"

You blinked, quickly nodding. "Y-Yeah."

He didn't look convinced. "You sure? You've been quiet for a while."

You hesitated, your fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. "I was just... thinking."

"About what?" he asked, sitting down beside you.

You swallowed hard, debating whether to tell him. But something in his gaze—steady, patient, understanding—made you feel like you could.

"It's about... me," you said slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What I am."

Wonwoo stayed quiet, giving you space to continue.

"I'm not like you," you said, your ears flattening against your head. "I don't just... exist like a normal person. There are... things about me—about my body—that I can't control."

He tilted his head slightly. "Like what?"

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with shame. "Like when I go into heat."

Wonwoo's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything, waiting for you to explain.

"It happens every few months," you continued, your voice trembling. "It's... painful. And if it's not treated, it gets worse. But..." You paused, your chest tightening.

"But?" he prompted gently.

Your voice broke as you said the next words. "But the people who used to 'treat' me... they didn't care about the pain. They only cared about using me for themselves."

The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes—disgust, pity, or worse.

But when Wonwoo finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady. "That's not going to happen again."

You blinked, glancing up at him. "What?"

He shifted closer, his expression firm. "No one's ever going to hurt you like that again. I promise."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you quickly looked away. "You say that, but... what if it happens? What if I can't control it, and you—"

"Stop," he said, his tone gentle but firm. He reached out, his hand resting lightly on yours. "I'm not like them. I'd never take advantage of you."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. For the first time, you felt like someone saw you—not as an object or a tool, but as a person.

"Do you... do you really mean that?" you whispered.

He nodded. "Every word. And if you ever feel like it's too much, we'll figure it out together. On your terms."

You couldn't stop the tears from falling now, the weight of his words breaking down the walls you had built around your heart.

Wonwoo reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. "Hey. It's okay. You're safe here, Bun."

For the first time, you believed him.

Wonwoo watched as you nodded off on the couch, your breathing evening out, though your grip on the blanket was still tight. Even in your sleep, it seemed like you were holding onto years of fear and mistrust.

He sighed softly, standing to grab the glass you'd left on the coffee table. The sound of his footsteps was faint, careful not to wake you as he moved to the kitchen.

It wasn't like him to get involved in something so... complicated. He usually preferred simplicity—quiet evenings alone, a book in hand, the hum of his PC in the background. He didn't go out of his way for people, not because he didn't care, but because people rarely gave him a reason to.

But you? You were different.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he stared at the glass. There was something about you that tugged at his attention, something beyond the strangeness of finding you on a marketplace. You were guarded but vulnerable, sharp but soft. It made him want to protect you, even if he wasn't sure why.

When he returned to the living room, you were awake, your wide eyes watching him from beneath the blanket.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice low.

You shook your head, your ears twitching slightly. "No. I just... I couldn't sleep."

He sat down on the armchair across from you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Something on your mind?"

You hesitated, your fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. "It's just... strange," you admitted. "Being here. With you."

He tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I'm not used to this," you said quietly. "Not used to... feeling safe."

Wonwoo's gaze softened, though his expression remained neutral. "You don't have to get used to it all at once," he said after a moment. "Take your time."

Your lips parted slightly, surprised by his words. Most people didn't give you time—they expected things from you, demanded things you weren't ready to give. But Wonwoo? He was different.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "I don't know. Maybe I just like rabbits."

A small, breathless laugh escaped you, and his lips quirked into a faint smile.

"I mean it," you said, your tone soft but insistent. "You don't even know me."

"You don't know me either," he pointed out. "Maybe I'm just trying to get on your good side so you don't eat all my snacks."

You laughed again, the sound lighter this time. "I don't think that's how this works."

He shrugged, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Maybe not. But if it makes you laugh, I'll take it."

For a moment, the room was quiet again, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence you were used to. It was... comfortable.

"Wonwoo?" you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely audible.

He didn't respond right away, his gaze steady as he looked at you. Then, with a small nod, he said, "You don't have to thank me, Bun. Just get some rest."

You smiled faintly, your heart feeling a little lighter as you settled back into the couch.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room. You stirred awake, stretching slightly under the blanket. Wonwoo was already up, sitting at the dining table with his laptop open, headphones on, and a cup of coffee in hand.

His attention was glued to the screen, his expression calm but focused. You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange sense of peace.

"You're up early," you said, your voice soft.

He glanced over at you, pulling one side of his headphones off. "Couldn't sleep much," he replied. "Thought I'd get some work done. How about you? Did you sleep okay?"

You nodded, sitting up and clutching the blanket around you. "Better than I expected. Thanks for... everything."

He gave you a small nod before returning his attention to the screen.

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you realized something: you hadn't had a proper bath in... well, you couldn't remember how long. Your ears twitched slightly at the thought, and you stood, glancing toward the hallway.

"Wonwoo?" you called hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he replied, not looking up.

"Where's the bathroom?"

He pointed down the hall without breaking his focus, but when you hesitated, he finally looked at you. "Everything okay?"

"I..." You fidgeted with the hem of the blanket, avoiding his gaze. "I don't really... know how to do it myself."

That caught his attention. He blinked at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "You don't know how to... take a bath?"

You shook your head, your cheeks warming. "I always had someone help me before," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you for a moment, processing your words. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. Come on."

"What?" You looked at him, wide-eyed.

"You said you need help, right?" He stood, closing his laptop. "Let's figure it out."

Your ears twitched nervously as you followed him down the hall, clutching the blanket tightly around you.

When he opened the bathroom door, you peeked inside. It was clean and simple, with a glass shower and a bathtub on one side. Wonwoo turned to you, his expression unreadable.

"Alright," he said, crossing his arms. "What do you need me to do?"

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing. "I don't know... maybe just show me how it works?"

He nodded, stepping into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature and letting the water fill the tub. "It's pretty straightforward," he said. "You just..."

He trailed off when he noticed you still standing by the door, fidgeting nervously. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's just... a little overwhelming," you admitted. "I'm not used to doing things on my own."

He sighed again, softer this time. "Okay. Look, I'll help you get started, but you're going to have to trust me, alright?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

He grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and handed it to you. "Here. Wrap this around yourself and let me know when you're ready."

You stepped inside, closing the door halfway before wrapping the towel around you. "Okay," you called out nervously.

Wonwoo stepped back in, careful to keep his eyes on the faucet. "Alright," he said, his voice calm. "You can sit on the edge of the tub for now. I'll show you how to use the showerhead and the soap."

You followed his instructions, perching on the edge as he adjusted the water. He handed you a bottle of soap, explaining how to lather it and rinse it off. His voice was steady, patient, and somehow soothing.

When you fumbled with the soap, he caught your hand gently, guiding you. "Like this," he said, his fingers warm against yours.

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat. For someone so quiet and reserved, he had a way of making you feel... safe.

"Got it?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. "Yeah... thanks, Wonwoo."

He gave you a small smile, standing up. "I'll give you some privacy now. If you need anything, just call me."

As he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, you couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, this new chapter in your life wouldn't be so bad after all.

It started out small.

You didn't even notice it at first—just a faint, restless warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was subtle, ignorable even, as you moved through the rest of the day. Wonwoo had gone back to working on his laptop while you explored the apartment, your curiosity keeping you distracted for a while.

But as the hours dragged on, the warmth grew. It wasn't just in your stomach anymore; it spread through your chest, your arms, and your legs, like an itch just beneath your skin that you couldn't quite reach.

By evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the TV. But it was impossible. The sensation was overwhelming now, and your ears twitched uncontrollably as you fought to keep your breathing steady.

"Hey," Wonwoo's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed as he looked at you. "You okay?"

You didn't trust yourself to look at him. Your cheeks burned as you nodded quickly. "I'm fine," you mumbled, your voice tight.

He didn't look convinced. Wonwoo stepped closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. "You don't look fine," he said. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, curling up tighter. "It's nothing," you insisted. "I just... need a minute."

But he didn't leave. Instead, he crouched down in front of you, his dark eyes scanning your face. "You're warm," he said, his voice soft but concerned. "Do you have a fever?"

You flinched as he reached out, his hand brushing against your forehead. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you jerked back, your ears flattening against your head.

"It's not a fever," you said quickly, your voice trembling.

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. "Then what is it?"

You hesitated, your cheeks burning as you tried to find the words. "I... I think it's my heat," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Your heat?"

You nodded, burying your face in your hands. "It's normal for hybrids," you explained, your voice muffled. "It happens every few months. But I didn't think it would happen so soon..."

Wonwoo was silent for a moment, and you dared to peek at him through your fingers. He looked... surprisingly calm.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, his voice steady.

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. You hadn't expected him to take it so seriously. "I don't know," you admitted. "It's usually... manageable. But it's worse when I'm alone."

He nodded, standing up and holding a hand out to you. "Come on," he said.

You stared at his hand, confused. "What?"

"You said it's worse when you're alone," he said simply. "So don't be alone."

Your cheeks burned as you hesitated, but eventually, you reached out and let him pull you to your feet. He led you to the couch and sat down, patting the spot next to him.

You sat down tentatively, your heart racing as the warmth in your chest seemed to grow even stronger. Wonwoo didn't say anything, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding.

"Better?" he asked after a moment.

You nodded, leaning into him slightly. "Yeah... a little."

As the evening went on, you found yourself growing more comfortable in his presence. The warmth was still there, but it was less overwhelming now, tempered by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle weight of his hand.

For the first time since the heat had started, you felt like you could breathe again.

Your whole body was burning. It wasn't just the heat in your stomach anymore��it was a desperate ache that throbbed with every passing second, pooling low in your core. You squirmed against the couch, trying to find some relief, but it only made it worse.

Wonwoo's hand was on your head, his fingers lazily stroking through the fur at the base of your ears. The slow, comforting rhythm sent shivers down your spine, but instead of soothing you, it only stoked the fire inside you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore it, trying to focus on anything else. But the longer you sat there, the harder it became. Your thighs pressed together involuntarily, your body instinctively searching for some kind of release.

Wonwoo noticed.

"You're fidgeting," he said quietly, his deep voice cutting through the haze in your mind. "Are you okay?"

You froze, your ears twitching at the sound of his voice. "I-I'm fine," you stammered, even though you weren't.

He didn't buy it. His hand moved from your ears to your shoulder, gently turning you to face him. His dark eyes searched yours, and the concern in his gaze made your heart ache.

"You're not fine," he said softly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You bit your lip, looking away. How could you possibly tell him? How could you explain this unbearable, shameful need that was consuming you?

"It's... it's my heat," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's bad this time."

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. If anything, his grip on your shoulder tightened, grounding you. "How bad?" he asked.

Your cheeks burned as you avoided his gaze. "It hurts," you murmured. "My body... it's aching. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Wonwoo was silent for a long moment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady, but there was an edge of something else—something you couldn't quite place.

"Have you ever... had anyone help you before?" he asked carefully.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the memory. "Other hybrids would help sometimes," you said. "But it was never... gentle. They only cared about... breeding."

His jaw tightened, his expression darkening slightly. "And the men?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

You hesitated, your ears flattening against your head. "They didn't care about me either," you admitted. "They just used me for their own pleasure."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken anger and something else—something softer, more tender.

"You deserve better," Wonwoo said finally, his voice firm. "You deserve to be cared for."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Wonwoo..."

His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. "If you'll let me," he said softly, "I want to take care of you."

Your breath caught in your throat. The heat in your body flared at his touch, but it wasn't just physical anymore. There was something deeper, something that made your chest ache just as much as your body did.

"Are you sure?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his dark eyes holding yours. "I want to help you," he said. "But only if you want me to."

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your cheeks burning. "Okay," you murmured.

Wonwoo's lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. "Good," he said. "Just tell me if it's too much, okay?"

You nodded again, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Wonwoo's hand stayed on your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. His thumb grazed along your skin, grounding you even as your body trembled. The ache inside you was unbearable, but somehow, his presence made it a little easier to endure.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, as if he could sense your nerves. "Just trust me."

You nodded, swallowing hard as his other hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. Your knees pressed into the couch on either side of him, and you felt his warmth radiating against you. It was overwhelming, but it wasn't bad. It was... comforting.

His fingers slid to your ears, brushing over them in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help the small, breathy sound that escaped your lips, and his eyes darkened slightly at the sound.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice soft yet weighted.

You nodded, biting your lip as your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice shaky.

His lips curved into the faintest smile. "You're sensitive," he murmured, his fingers continuing to trace along your ears. "I'll be careful."

The way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you—like you were something precious, something worth protecting—made your chest ache almost as much as your body burned.

"Wonwoo..." You didn't even know what you were asking for, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea.

"I know," he murmured. "I've got you."

His hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him. Your forehead rested against his shoulder as his fingers traced small, soothing circles along your spine. It wasn't enough to stop the heat, but it was enough to make you feel safe.

Slowly, he tilted your chin up, his dark eyes searching yours. There was no rush, no impatience. Only warmth and care.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips brushed against yours—tentative at first, testing the waters. But when you leaned into him, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to hold you steady.

The heat in your body flared, but this time, it wasn't unbearable. It was electric, sparking to life with every touch, every movement.

His lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You couldn't stop the small, breathy noises that escaped you, and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Still okay?" he asked, his voice rougher now, laced with something deeper.

"Yes," you whispered, your fingers curling into his hair. "Please... don't stop."

He didn't. His hands explored your body with a gentleness you'd never experienced before, his touch careful and measured. He was patient, never rushing, always watching your reactions to make sure you were comfortable.

Your body moved instinctively against his, searching for relief, and he guided you through it, his voice a soothing constant in your ear.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. "I've got you. Just let go."

And for the first time, you did.

Wonwoo's gaze softened, his fingers gently retreating from your trembling body. He leaned closer, cupping your flushed face with his hand. "You're lying," he murmured, his deep voice steady yet filled with concern. "Your body's still burning up."

You avoided his eyes, embarrassed by how the heat in your core seemed to intensify again, worse than before. It wasn't something you could control, and you hated feeling this vulnerable in front of him.

"It's... just how it is," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'll be fine. I don't want to bother you—"

"Stop that," he interrupted, his tone firm but still gentle. "You're not a bother, and I told you I'd take care of you."

His words made your chest tighten, a strange warmth blooming there, different from the feverish heat that raged through the rest of your body. You looked up at him, your ears twitching slightly as his thumb brushed over your cheek.

"But... I've never done this with anyone I trust," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "I don't know what to do."

Wonwoo's lips quirked into the faintest smile, his hand moving to gently stroke your ears again, as if to soothe you. "You don't have to do anything," he reassured you. "Just tell me what feels good, and I'll handle the rest. Okay?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your fingers clutching onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back to meet your eyes. "Let's try to make this a little easier for you," he said, his hands moving to carefully lift you into his lap.

The shift in position sent a jolt of warmth through your body, and you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands settled on your waist, holding you securely as he whispered against your ear.

"Just relax," he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you."

His hands began to move again, trailing down your sides, his touch firm yet unhurried. The contrast of his cool fingers against your heated skin made you shiver, and a soft whimper escaped your lips as he dipped lower, tracing the curve of your thighs.

"Wonwoo..." His name left your lips in a breathy plea, and he responded with a low hum, his lips brushing against your temple.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice steady and comforting. "I've got you."

As his hands worked their way back to your aching core, you felt your body tense in anticipation, your breath hitching when his fingers slid between your folds once again. He was slow, deliberate, as if he was determined to learn exactly what made you feel good.

You couldn't stop the soft moans that spilled from your lips as his movements grew more confident, his thumb circling your clit in a way that made your entire body tremble. He watched you carefully, his dark eyes filled with a mix of concern and fascination, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you responded to his touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said softly, his voice laced with something deeper, something that sent a shiver down your spine. "Don't hold back. Let me hear you."

His words broke through the last of your hesitation, and you let yourself fall into the sensation, your head tilting back as waves of pleasure rolled through you. But even as your body tensed and finally released, you could feel the heat building again, stronger than before.

You let out a shaky breath, your forehead resting against his shoulder as your ears drooped slightly. "Wonwoo... it's not stopping," you admitted, your voice trembling with frustration and embarrassment.

He tightened his hold on you, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. "Then we'll keep going," he said simply, his tone unwavering. "I'll stay with you until it's over."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. "You... you'd really do that for me?"

He smiled, the kind of soft, reassuring smile that made your heart ache. "Of course. I'd do anything for you."

The desperation in your voice, the way your trembling body clung to him—it was enough to make Wonwoo's self-control unravel. He brushed your tears away with a gentle hand, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for any hesitation. When he saw none, only the pleading desperation in your gaze, he nodded softly.

"You sure, bun?" he asked, his voice thick with restraint, but the nickname rolled off his tongue like honey.

You could only nod frantically, your hands gripping his arms. "Please," you whispered, the ache too unbearable to handle any longer.

Wonwoo moved carefully, lowering himself between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs apart. His fingers slid down to spread your folds again, his touch deliberate, making sure you were still ready for him. The sight of you, wet and needy, made him groan low in his throat, his cock straining against the last layer of fabric between you.

He pulled his underwear down in one swift motion, his length springing free. You gasped at the sheer size of him, the heat in your core only intensifying as you realized what was about to happen.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. The tip of his cock teased your slick folds, and you whimpered at the sensation, your hips bucking instinctively.

The moment he started to push in, you moaned loudly, your body arching as the stretch sent a wave of pleasure and pain through you. He froze halfway, giving you time to adjust, his hand stroking your side in soothing circles.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and restraint. "Relax for me, bun. I don't want to hurt you."

His words melted into your ears, and you tried to relax, focusing on the way his hands steadied you. Slowly, he pushed in further, filling you inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. You let out a breathy moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders as the overwhelming fullness consumed you.

"God, you're so tight," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. "So perfect."

The heat in you was relentless, but the way he stretched and filled you brought a strange sense of relief, as if he was the only thing that could soothe the ache. When he started to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, your body reacted instinctively, your hips lifting to meet his.

"Wonwoo... faster," you begged, your voice trembling as the pleasure began to overshadow the pain.

He didn't hesitate, his thrusts growing faster and deeper, each one hitting a spot inside you that made you cry out his name. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room, along with your soft cries and his low, guttural groans.

"You're so good for me," he rasped, his lips finding your neck, kissing and biting softly as he pounded into you. "Taking me so well."

Your ears twitched at the praise, and your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Every movement, every thrust seemed to push you closer to the edge, the heat in your core intensifying until it felt like you might explode.

"Wonwoo, I—I'm close," you whimpered, your nails digging into his back as your body tensed beneath him.

He nodded, his pace quickening as he held you tighter, determined to bring you over the edge. "Let go, bun. I'm right here. Let go for me."

His words were all it took to push you over, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body shaking as the heat finally broke, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

Wonwoo followed shortly after, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he came. The feeling of his warmth filling you made your body relax completely, the last remnants of your heat fading away.

He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. His hand came up to stroke your ear gently, his touch soothing as you leaned into him.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah... I feel so much better now. Thank you, Wonwoo."

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to thank me. I'll always take care of you, bun."

Wonwoo's arms stayed wrapped around your waist as you sat perched on his lap, your legs straddling him. His forehead rested lightly against yours, and he let out a soft hum, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your lower back. You were still catching your breath, your body trembling slightly, but the closeness between you was soothing.

"You're adorable," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss, as if testing the waters.

Your hands slid up his chest instinctively, clutching at his hoodie for balance. "Says the guy who just—" you paused, cheeks warming, "—made me feel things I didn't think were possible."

Wonwoo smirked faintly, his hands resting on your hips. "Well, I guess we both learned something new today," he teased, leaning in to capture your lips again.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring the taste of you. His hand wandered to the small of your back, holding you securely in place as you pressed your body closer to his. The warmth between you both was intoxicating, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist—only the two of you tangled together on the couch.

You broke the kiss, panting softly, your forehead resting against his. "Wonwoo..." you whispered, voice shy yet yearning.

His eyes searched yours, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. "What is it, bun?"

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. "I feel... safe with you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His heart swelled at your words, and he pressed another kiss to your lips, gentle and reassuring. "You'll always be safe with me," he said firmly, his hand stroking your ear affectionately, earning a soft whimper from you.

As the heat of the moment lingered, Wonwoo shifted slightly, careful not to move too much and overwhelm your still-sensitive body. The weight of the intimacy between you felt heavy but comforting, like a quiet promise unspoken.

"You're really something, y'know," he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You let out a quiet giggle, your cheeks flushing. "And you're not so bad yourself," you teased, nuzzling against him, your ears twitching slightly from the affectionate strokes of his fingers.

He let out a quiet laugh, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Guess we make a good pair then."

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing soft kisses and whispered words. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced with a warm, unspoken connection that neither of you wanted to let go of.

Wonwoo let out a soft groan, his hands firmly gripping your hips as you shifted slightly on his lap. The motion sent a jolt through both of you, and you gasped, your body still sensitive from earlier. His length was still buried deep inside you, and the intimate connection left your cheeks flushed and your heartbeat erratic.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and strained, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek. "I'm trying to take it slow, but you're making it hard."

You bit your lip, your hands braced on his shoulders for balance. "I-I wasn't trying to do anything," you whispered, your voice shy yet laced with a tinge of mischief.

He smirked at your flustered state, his hands sliding up to your waist to hold you steady. "Sure you weren't," he teased, leaning in to kiss the corner of your lips.

Your ears twitched slightly at the sensation, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper, your body instinctively clenching around him. The reaction drew a deep groan from Wonwoo, his grip on you tightening as his self-control teetered on the edge.

"You're going to drive me insane," he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours.

You giggled softly, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I like seeing you like this," you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo's eyes darkened slightly at your words, a playful smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock challenge.

Before you could respond, he shifted his hips slightly, the movement sending a spark of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your breath hitched.

"W-Wonwoo!" you stammered, your cheeks burning.

He chuckled softly, his hands guiding your hips to keep you steady. "Relax, bun," he said gently, his tone soothing yet teasing. "I've got you."

The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made your heart flutter. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, your body instinctively responding to his touch. The warmth between you was overwhelming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

As the two of you stayed locked in each other's embrace, the world outside faded away. It was just you and Wonwoo, connected in a way that felt deeper than words could ever describe.

Wonwoo's hands slowly roamed up your back as you remained seated in his lap, the warmth between your bodies making you feel like you were melting into him. His lips brushed against yours in a slow, lazy kiss, and the intimacy of the moment made your ears twitch slightly.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your hip.

You nodded, nuzzling into his neck, but your body betrayed you. The heat still lingered, subtle but growing again, your sensitivity making you squirm slightly. Wonwoo's hands tightened their hold on you, sensing your restlessness.

"Still not enough, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with understanding.

"I-It's not..." you trailed off, too embarrassed to finish your sentence, but he tilted your chin up, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle, reassuring gaze.

"I'll take care of you," he promised, his lips brushing yours softly before his hands gripped your hips. With a slow movement, he adjusted your position, and the subtle shift made you moan quietly.

Wonwoo leaned back on the couch, guiding you to move at your own pace, letting you take control. You slowly lifted yourself before sliding back down, and the stretch had both of you exhaling in unison. The intimacy of it—the closeness—made your chest tighten with an overwhelming mix of emotions.

You began moving with his help, finding a rhythm that had you both panting softly. The warmth of his hands on your waist, his whispered words of encouragement, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered made your heart race.

"Wonwoo..." you moaned softly, your hands braced on his chest as you moved.

"You're doing so good," he praised, his voice strained but tender. His hands guided your movements, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing strokes as he watched you lose yourself to the moment.

The pace gradually increased, your movements becoming more desperate as the pleasure built higher and higher. Wonwoo met you with soft thrusts, his control evident in the way he moved to match your rhythm perfectly.

When you finally reached your peak, your body trembled in his arms, and he held you close, whispering soothing words as you rode out your release. He wasn't far behind, his grip tightening as he followed you over the edge, his groan muffled against your shoulder.

You both stilled, panting heavily, and Wonwoo's arms wrapped around you to pull you into his chest. The weight of exhaustion mixed with relief settled over you, and you nuzzled into him, feeling safe and cherished.

"I think you're trying to kill me," Wonwoo joked softly, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

You giggled, your ears twitching slightly as you leaned into him. "Sorry," you mumbled, though your tone was anything but apologetic.

He chuckled, his hands gently stroking your back. "Don't be. Just... don't move for a while. Let's stay like this," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

And for a moment, everything felt perfect. But as the heat of the moment faded, the reality of your situation began creeping back in. The two of you had crossed a line, one that could never be undone.

Still, you stayed curled up in Wonwoo's arms, savoring the peace before the world outside the walls of his apartment could interfere once more.

The soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming your skin as you stirred awake. You blinked sleepily, the ache of last night still lingering in your body. The weight of his arm around your waist was grounding, protective. Wonwoo was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to admire him. His face looked softer in the morning light, his sharp features relaxed into something impossibly gentle.

Your bunny ears twitched as his grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer even in his sleep. It was... cozy. Too cozy. You weren't used to this—waking up somewhere that felt safe. You almost didn't want to move, afraid that it would shatter whatever fragile bubble the two of you had formed.

But the warmth between your legs made you squirm slightly, a reminder of everything that had happened the night before. Your face flushed at the memory. You'd never been cared for like that—never had someone look at you like you were more than just... something to use. And yet, there he was, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Your ears perked up when you felt him stir. His hand flexed on your waist before his eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hazy, still heavy with sleep, but it softened immediately when he saw you.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice deep and gravelly.

You nodded shyly. "Good morning."

His thumb traced lazy circles on your skin, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks again. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"I'm okay," you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. "A little... sore, maybe."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed slightly. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head quickly. "No, no! It's not that. I'm just... not used to it. To... someone being gentle."

He didn't respond immediately, but the way his hand tightened on your waist said enough. "You deserve gentle," he said quietly, his tone firm like he wanted to make sure you believed him.

Your chest tightened at his words, and you looked away, unsure of how to respond. This was all so new—too new. And yet, you didn't want it to stop.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Wonwoo sighed, reluctantly letting go of you to grab it. His eyes scanned the screen, and you saw his expression shift slightly—his jaw tightening.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, your ears drooping slightly at the sudden tension.

He hesitated for a moment before setting the phone back down. "Nothing," he said, though his tone betrayed him. "Just... work stuff."

You tilted your head, unconvinced, but you didn't push. Instead, you sat up, pulling the blanket around you. "Do you have to go?"

"No," he said quickly, sitting up to meet your eyes. "I'm staying right here."

His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The look in his eyes was steady, reassuring. But you couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was on his phone wasn't just "work stuff."

Still, you smiled softly, letting yourself believe him for now. "Okay."

"Why don't we get some breakfast?" he suggested, his tone lighter now. "I'm sure you're starving."

You nodded, your stomach rumbling at the thought of food. As the two of you got up and started moving around the apartment, you couldn't help but wonder—what exactly was he hiding? And how long would this little bubble of safety last before reality came crashing in?

Wonwoo's lips brushed against the crown of your head as you curled up in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around you. The soft blanket he had draped over your shoulders kept you warm, but it was his steady heartbeat under your ear that gave you real comfort.

"You're awfully quiet now," he murmured, his hand absentmindedly stroking between your bunny ears, earning a soft hum from you. "Is something on your mind?"

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. His expression was gentle, almost serene, but his dark eyes held an intensity that made you feel bare yet safe all at once.

"It's just... I don't know how to say it," you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Try me," he coaxed, his fingers shifting to lightly pinch your ear, a smirk tugging at his lips when you squeaked.

You hesitated, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. "I... don't think I've ever felt this safe before. Like... you actually see me as me. Not just some... hybrid with—"

Wonwoo silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips lingering just long enough to melt away your worries. "You're not just anything, Y/N," he said quietly, his forehead pressing against yours. "You're you. That's what matters."

Your heart swelled at his words, and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Wonwoo," you whispered.

"For what?"

"For being... this," you said, leaning back just enough to gesture at him, though you didn't really have the words to explain.

His lips quirked up in that understated smile of his, the one that made your stomach flip. "I guess you're welcome, then."

The moment felt too perfect to break, but your stomach had other plans, growling loudly enough to make you both pause.

Wonwoo chuckled, his chest rumbling against you. "Hungry?"

"...Maybe," you mumbled, your ears drooping slightly in embarrassment.

"Well, let's fix that." He shifted, preparing to stand up with you still in his arms.

"Wait! I can walk!"

He raised an eyebrow. "And miss the chance to carry my cute bunny to the kitchen? Not a chance."

You couldn't fight the grin that spread across your face as he carried you bridal style toward the kitchen, his teasing making your heart feel lighter than it had in years.

After a warm meal that left you feeling full and happy, Wonwoo guided you back to the couch. The evening air had turned cooler, and your soft pajamas were still in his room, far away from where you wanted to be—next to him.

"Here," he said, reaching into the basket of clean laundry he had yet to fold. He pulled out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized black one that smelled distinctly like him, that comforting mix of woodsy cologne and something warm, like coffee.

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. "That's... yours?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, holding it out to you. "You'll be more comfortable in this for now."

"But it'll smell like you."

"And that's a problem because...?" He gave you a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying the slight pout on your lips.

"It's not a problem," you muttered, cheeks warming as you tentatively took the shirt from his hands.

Wonwoo turned away to give you some privacy, though he couldn't help sneaking a quick glance over his shoulder as you slipped into the shirt. It draped over you like a dress, the hem brushing just above your knees, the sleeves far too long for your arms. You tugged at the collar nervously, your bunny ears twitching as the fabric enveloped you in his scent.

"Cute," he said simply, his voice soft but filled with affection.

You froze, your cheeks heating up. "Y-You think so?"

Wonwoo stepped closer, his hands gently landing on your shoulders before he tugged you into a hug. "Of course," he murmured, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. "You smell sweet, like always. But now..." He took a subtle inhale, his arms tightening slightly around you. "Now you smell like me too. I like it."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but snuggle closer, your head pressing into his chest. "I... like it too," you admitted shyly, your voice muffled against him.

He leaned back just enough to tip your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Good," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You should get used to it."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. "You're so smooth sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Only with you."

The warmth of his shirt enveloped you like a snug cocoon, and with the soft scent of him lingering on the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a little dazed. Wonwoo's shirt was oversized on you, the hem brushing against your thighs as you shifted your weight on the couch. The mix of his scent and the subtle sweetness you naturally carried made the air feel warm and comforting.

He pulled you close again, his large hands gently resting on your waist as he settled back into the cushions. You melted into him effortlessly, his solid chest a perfect pillow. Wonwoo's heartbeat was steady under your cheek, grounding you in the peaceful silence.

"You smell like me now," he murmured, his deep voice low and laced with affection. His lips ghosted against your temple, lingering there in a gentle kiss. "I like it."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your cheeks flushed from his tender words. "That's unfair," you teased, voice soft as you traced a finger along the line of his jaw. "You keep saying things that make me weak."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his lips quirked into that small, crooked smile that made your heart flutter. "Only because it's true. You look perfect like this." His arms wrapped around you tighter, pulling you into his lap effortlessly.

You let out a happy sigh, curling up against him, your legs draped over his as he rested his chin atop your head. "I don't think I've ever been this comfortable," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

"Good," he replied simply, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. The gesture felt as natural as breathing, his thumb idly stroking your knuckles as the two of you relaxed into each other's warmth.

Sleep was tugging at your eyelids now, the day's tension melting away with every gentle kiss he pressed to your forehead, your hair, and even your bunny ears. You nuzzled closer, letting out the smallest, most content hum, which made Wonwoo's heart skip a beat.

As your breaths evened out, he couldn't resist murmuring, "I'll keep you safe, always." He didn't know if you were awake enough to hear it, but it didn't matter. The words were true, and they hung in the quiet air like a promise.

His shirt wrapped around you, his scent lingering on your skin, and his strong arms holding you tight—it was a kind of peace you hadn't known existed.

And as the night stretched on, the two of you stayed that way—wrapped in each other, hearts beating in perfect rhythm.

a/n: let's all thank anon for the request, especially if you liked it (hope you did) mwa's

[siempre-bucky]

not a senator.

Qimir x Senator!Reader

Summary: On the run after a failed assassination attempt, you run into a peculiar apothecary owner

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: Mentions of blood

A/N: For the Anon that requested a senator!reader meet cute <3

You weren’t sure how long you’d been running through the outskirts of Olega, it felt like as soon as you left your ship you were being followed, hunted. The branches of the trees rustled in warning, and the whispers of threats danced along your ears. You picked up the bottom of your cloak, the last thing tethering you to your former self, and ran. It was a gift from the Senator elected before you, a soft navy blue velvet with matching metallic fiber woven into seams. You treated it as a reminder of who you once were. 

 The state of exhaustion had set in, hunger squeezed your stomach, but the adrenaline kept you going. 

Get to safety, get far from here, the terrified guard told you in the dead of night, an assassin lying dead at the foot of your bed in a pool of crimson that glowed in the bright lights of the Courscant nightlife outside the large windows of your room. It was an assassination attempt, a group of assassins hired by political rivals to remove you from the Senate—permanently. Supposedly, it was an era of peace but you soon learned how fleeting peace was. 

“Get the Senator!” a man seethed, pointing his knife in your direction as you disappeared into the bustling crowd of the marketplace, his other hand had the collar of his henchman clenched tightly in his fist, pulling the man in with a look of sudden fear in his eyes. The market had made good cover so far, the people of the planet were barely paying any attention to you running for your life. They went about their business, loitering on rust ridden buildings and eagerly bartering for goods. 

You heard someone mention an apothecary as you passed them. Your eyes hastily searched for it, just make it there. There’d be plenty of places to hide inside. You slid the dirty red door open and walked inside cautiously, the patrons paying no mind as you stepped through the doorway. Your eyes scanned the apothecary noting that it was a rather small place. A few people examined the various items on the shelves while a couple of others stood by the window beside you. It was a mess, you thought as you caught your breath. 

In front of you, stood a tall slender man behind the small counter. He paid you no mind as his eyes narrowed at the glowing yellow tile in the center of the counter, his hands tinkering with some broken parts that illuminated in the small light. You thought he was peculiar, the way he watched his work so intensely. 

“In there,” you heard the same voices from earlier shouting from the other side of the window, “check in there.” 

You were out of time to make a getaway, and in this small space, you didn’t have many hiding options. Taking in the lack of hiding spots, you ran towards the apothecary's owner, jumping and sliding behind the counter, his scraps falling in all directions with various clinking sounds. 

The man looked down at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression while you made yourself as small as you could, bringing your knees to your chest and pressing your back to the counter, your shoulders hunched over. Panic was setting in. “Hello,” he said lightly, clinging the two metal bottles in his hands together. If you weren’t so scared, you would have thought he was handsome this close up. Cheekbones carved especially by the Maker and disheveled black hair that covered his dark brown eyes. He was beautiful and in desperate need of a good shower. His loose but tattered green and brown clothes made him fit in with the rest of the place, a little dirty and run down.

“There are men trying to kill me out there. Please don’t let them find me!” you pleaded with him, skipping the pleasantries. He just stared at you blankly, and you assumed he already made up his mind. This was the way that the galaxy worked, you were too sheltered on your home planet and then sent to Coruscant where it was no better in the Senate. Things weren't perfect, people were not good like Jedi Masters told you they were.

He smirked playfully down at you, “Was that a pickup line?” he asked with a chuckle. Your face fell, lips falling to an annoyed grimace. 

“Maker,” you cursed, accepting your fate The door was suddenly ripped from its hinges, the earth-shattering thunk caught everyone's attention. You jumped, clasping your hands over your mouth to muffle any kind of fearful cry. 

The man looked at you and then back to the two burly men who barreled into his apothecary. They strolled up to the bar with confidence, the owner's eyes fixated on them. “Hello!” he greeted with the same light tone, “how can I help you?” 

The taller of the two bounty hunters leaned on the bar, his eyes narrowed. “We’re looking for a Senator,” he informed plainly, “Got a high price on that pretty head— we could cut you in for any relevant information.” The man pulled a hologram from his pocket and placed it on the table, turning it on. The owner looked at your official portrait that was slowly rotating in front of him and narrowed his eyes, he was taking it all in. He probably thought you looked more put together in the photo than you do now. Dirt covering your cheeks, strands of hair stuck to your sweaty forehead. 

He chuckled, “You sound a little desperate if you’re offering a cut to someone like me.” 

You looked up at him worriedly, you could see how his jaw clenched but his body remained light at his tone of voice. Your heart pounded against your chest, the men were about to offer a large sum and the owner was about to take it, you were sure of it. 

The bounty hunter snarled, but the other man stood still and held his ground. “I should have your head for that.” 

The man put his hands on the counter and nonchalantly turned off the hologram. His face was stone, unreadable as he continued to make eye contact with the bounty hunter. They stared at each other in silence, the background noise of the apothecary began to get increasingly louder in your ears. It was almost deafening, the clanking of jars and whirling of mechanical tools screamed at you. You moved your hands from your lips and slid them up towards your ears. 

But you stopped when the bounty hunters began to speak lifelessly, almost as if he was in a trance

“There is no Senator here, we will leave,” the bounty hunters spoke in unison, reaching into their pockets and retrieving two brown sacks of credits. The owner smiled as they placed it on the counter and exited without another word. 

You waited until you heard their footsteps fade to cautiously rise from the floor, your eyes frantically scanning the room to make sure it was safe. “They left,” you breathed as if it was the first time. 

“See,” he beamed, “Not so bad.” He took the two sacks in one hand, and your shaky one in the other. Your eyes met as he put the bags in your hand, “This should probably be enough to get you started if you choose to stay.” 

He let go and made his way to the back entrance, leaving you there staring at the bags in pure shock, “Thank you-,” you whispered before swiftly following him to the back alley. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn't know his name, he saved your life and you didn’t even ask. 

“Qimir!” he called back as if he knew what you were thinking. Strange.

You followed close behind him, but once you started to think, your steps became slower and separated the two of you. How was he able to change their minds so quickly, they were dead set on killing you. They were bounty hunters, the most relentless creatures in the galaxy. 

You paused, clenching the two bags in your hands tighter. “How’d you get them to leave like that?” You asked sternly, the Senator in you coming out. “Are you—” you paused. You had only seen methods like that from a select few, “—Jedi?” 

He stopped, blood running cold in his veins. You saw how his body tensed up then he stood up straight, pushing back his greasy hair, the strands falling perfectly into place. Qimir slowly turned to you and everything abruptly seemed off. His face was no longer filled with meek eagerness, he was secure and held himself with such poise. A whole shift in personality you noted. He slowly strode over, his eyes darkening as he moved. His whole presence felt dark. 

A chill ran down your spine as he approached you. Was he about to kill you? 

“Quite the opposite, Senator,” he spoke lowly with a slight rasp to his tone, his head tilting to the side, looking up at you. Another chill went through you. 

 His face was so close you could see every freckle on his face, every shade of brown in his eyes. 

You heard the stories of those who practiced the ways of the Force outside the Jedi Order, they had a name but you couldn’t recall what it was. The Council didn’t like to talk about them, another senator you became acquainted with once said they didn’t mention it purposely for it would “dampen the era of peace in the galaxy.”  You were too busy staring at the man in front of you, unsure if you wanted to run or kiss him, “N-not a Senator,” you swallowed, you couldn't call yourself that any longer. 

“‘I’ll make you a deal.” You nodded. “Tell no one of what happened here,” and I’ll spare your life, “and anything in the apothecary is yours for free.”

You smirked, “Deal,” you said, taking a step back and holding out your hand, “Thank you again, Qimir.”  Qimir nodded and shook your hand, his skin tingling at the sensation of your hand in his. Was this desire? He pulled away and began to walk back towards the apothecary, before he reached the door he looked at you with a smirk on his chiseled face, “You’re quite welcome, Senator. I hope to see you soon.”

[jinkicake]

HSHDHSHD HI AGAIN I JUST SAW UR CHILDE AND SCARAMOUCHE ARRANGE MARRIAGE POST AND I GO SJGNFNFNFNDNNFNDNG THE WAY U WRITE ARRANGE MARRIAGE TROPES>>>>>>/lh UR WRITTING IS SO GOOD!! I ALWAYS COMEBACK AND RE READ IT EVERYTIME AND I JUST REALIZED U ALSO WRITE FOR OBEY ME?! AND UR WRITING IS THE FIRST FEW ONES I'VE READ AFTER I JOIN THE OM FANDOM TOO?!👀💖💐

Ps. Would u mind if I request a 2nd part for the arrange marriage aus for the first fews chars (esp. Perrio👀) if nit they it's fine <33 thx u for creating such an amazing content!!💖💖

Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope

(pt. ??) Alhaitham, Dottore, Pierro, Zhongli x Reader

fem!reader bc I like the use of ‘wife’

A/N: hi anon!! thank you for being so patient w me and for being so sweet </333 T T i hope you like this~~ if you want me to do part2 for anyone else let me know!! I only did it for zhongli and pierro teehee bc i also wanted to add alhaitham and dottore (i hope that is alright~~)

WC - 3.2k

- yandere!dottore  // dottore is his own warning -

NSFW // LIGHT SMUT (pierro+zhongli)

~~~

Alhaitham

“I will be home after sundown, habibti." Alhaitham places a gentle hand on your shoulder after he stands up from his chair at the dining room table. He lowers his head with a slight dip of his neck to place a kiss on the crown of your hair. “Be good today.” 

And then he is gone. 

Months have passed since your husband began staying late after work. You don’t understand it in the slightest, he hates doing unnecessary tasks. The entire time you’ve known him, courting and beyond, Alhaitham has always spared time in his day for his interests. One day, he even told you that his favorite part of each day was settling down to read. He likes to live a carefree and relaxed lifestyle, so staying late in the Akademiya seems like the complete opposite of that. 

Regardless, you bear the weight of your suspicions and ignore it. 

You focus on being the docile wife you were advertised as and focus on your housework. In truth, your arranged marriage could not have gone any better. Despite your parents parading you around, you somehow found the most laid-back candidate who suited your needs to a t. Every night you thank the Lesser Lord Kusanali for such a kind husband, who lets you come and go as you please. You would have probably hired a hit on your parents, as opposed to never speaking with them again, if they married you away to a cruel man. 

However, housework only keeps you busy for so long and before you know it, it is ten am and you have finished everything that you wanted to do for the day. You could go bother your husband’s old roommate or have a meal with your friend but, you notice that Alhaitham left his lunch today. The neatly prepared and packed lunch is still sitting on the counter where you left it. He must have forgotten to grab it. 

With ignorance only Alhaitham could have installed in you, a result of keeping you in the dark for so long, you head toward the Akademiya. However, you regret it once you speak with his co-workers. 

“Alhaitham is not here today.”

“Your husband? He didn’t come in this morning,”

“I heard he was heading to Port Ormos after speaking with the Gauhar.”

Through your dejection, you braced a kind smile and thanked them all before heading back home. What could your husband possibly be going to the port for? He’s not a student anymore, there’s no reason for him to be going there. 

Unless someone else is there. 

You stubbornly try to shake that negative thought out of your head as you walk through the marketplace. As if Alhaitham would commit something of adultery, he doesn’t show interest in anything or anyone. 

Perhaps, you will have to speak about this with him when he returns home. 

Returning home that night was not something Alhaitham did. In fact, he did not return back to you for two nights and only appeared on the third morning of his disappearance. 

To say that you were upset would be an understatement and your husband was able to see it the second he walks in through the door. 

“(Y/N), I know I have been gone-”

“Where have you been?” You don’t give him the chance to begin with the sorry apologies as you cross your arms over your chest, you get straight to the point. 

“It was for the Akademiya, I cannot discuss the matters with you and you know this.” He sounds sincere enough, there’s a tiredness to his words that you can’t pinpoint. “I wanted to check in with you before I returned.”

“Check in with me?” You scoff and start to look at him as if he had grown three heads. “Check in with me before returning to your mistress?” 

“My mistress?” Alhaitham raises a subtle brow and keeps a straight face despite the amusement growing in his chest. 

“Why else have you been gone so long? Staying out so late? I’m not a fool and personally, I don’t care about who else you see.” You lie straight through your teeth, lie until you choke. Alhaitham sighs before stepping closer toward you. 

“I really cannot share the details of this assignment just yet, you have to believe me, habibti.” He gently cups your shoulders, giving the area a soft squeeze before soothingly running over the planes of your back. “Listen to me when I say that I would never think of betraying you so cruelly.” And, before you have a chance to react, Alhaitham lowers his face to brush his lips against your ear. Vulnerability spills through his every word. “Please do not act so indifferent about the matter of us, I want you to care as freely about me as I do you.”

Smoothly, his hand cups your face and tilts you his way. 

“No matter what thoughts you may come up with on your own, trust the logic that I love you.”

Dottore

“The Doctor will return from his mission sometime next week, perhaps during the beginning of the new moon-”

During the message personally delivered from your husband by a trusted subordinate, you can’t help but audibly groan. 

“Why must he ruin my entire week with his presence? Did he specifically plan to return on Monday? Why couldn’t he have come back the following Saturday or Sunday?” You place your pen down with great irritation and with it, the notebook you were writing in slams shut. The large Fatui soldier stares down at you, quite flabbergasted by your actions. At the lack of response from your maids, he continues. 

“Well, The Doctor wanted to spend some time with you before his next mission-”

“You’re kidding?” This time, you stand up and slam your palms against the strong wooden desk. Hatred and frustration flow through your veins, nearly choking you by your throat. “When you receive word that he is on his way, within a day away from me, then you will come back here and tell me. Understand?” You and your shorter frame could not nearly pose up to the Vanguard standing before you but, given the status of your esteemed husband, you can speak with him and any other solider of your choice however you want.

“Yes, my lady.” He offers a respectful bow before leaving your office and does not flinch under the intensity of your unwavering glare. 

“My day is ruined.” You hum and try to calm yourself down by rolling out your shoulders. Within an instant your close friends (the maids assigned to you by your beloved) are by your side, offering you their condolences and support. “We must prepare for the torture that his arrival is ensured to bring. Where are my earplugs?” 

Each day that follows, you work alongside other members of the house to prepare the cozy home that your husband chooses to reside in. Cozy is a cute way of describing it, this castle that hides within the mountains is anything but cozy. It’s large and empty but, you rather enjoy all the empty space that provides shelter when you’re hiding from your husband. 

In the midst of your breakfast later in the week, you’re interrupted by another announcement. 

“My lady, The Doctor will arrive-”

“What do you want?” You scowl and push your plate away, lowering your utensils before standing up from your chair. Now, just like your week and the ones that follow, your meal is ruined too. “I do not care when that wretched vermin will arrive. Tell me when he is here and leave me alone.”

“That is the thing, my lady, he is here early.” As one of the Legionaries beside the previous Vanguard steps to the side, your husband moves in front of you. He stands tall on the other side of the long dining room table and you have half a mind to sprint for the door. “I did not have time to issue the previous warning you asked for.”

“Warning? Is that how you speak of me when I am not around?” Dottore tilts his head slightly before slowly walking around the table. You try not to shake as he corners you, hands braced behind his back. “Oh? Where has your attitude gone? Down the drain with your fight?” 

He doesn’t have to remove his mask for you to see the sneer on his face, the anger that is sure to be littering his features. 

“Dear,” You nervously greet him, offering a pathetic smile that does little to hide your nerves. 

“Sweetheart,” He greets back just as gently but, you can see the tension in his shoulders. “I must confess that I was thinking we would spend time with one another before my next trip to Sumeru but, now I'm not so sure.” 

But? You mentally pray and pray to the Tsaritsa that he changes his mind and ditches you altogether, that he leaves you alone again for months on end. Anything would be better than facing his wrath. 

“I don’t think we need to see one another for a while.” He waits for you to let out the breath you were holding in, to sigh in relief, before gripping your jaw with his gloved hand. “I think it would only be fair since you’ll now be coming with me to Sumeru. We can spend the entire trip together, side by side. Finally, you’ll be able to see my work up close and not just from your timid frame in the lab doorway.”

You can’t hide the way your lip begins to quiver, eyes filling with tears. That is the last thing you would ever want. 

“Aren’t you excited, my wife? You must be since you’re near bursting into tears!” He mocks you until your soul breaks, until the farthest place you could ever be from him is no longer far enough. “If this is how you act when we are apart then, you will never be from my side ever again.”

Pierro

“You are a blessing,” Pierro murmurs lowly as his hands delicately sculpt your sides, gently he presses into your skin with his thick fingers. “a divine creation.” Like this, he worships you. His lips lightly trail between the valley of your breasts as he ascends up your body. “Hundreds of years have passed since I’ve felt this alive.”

Pierro slowly drags his lips up your throat and over your jaw to hover above your lips. His breath fans your chin, teasing you with his close proximity. He laughs when you tilt your chin in an attempt to kiss him, but it fails. 

Regardless of how you care for your husband outside of your shared bedroom, you always love him inside of it. 

“Please,” Your quiet voice sounds like a melody to the older man and he nearly sighs at the sweet tone. This is all he has ever desired, you wanting and yearning for him. He knows his words will never be enough to get this point across, ever.

With a light hand, the man brushes any lingering strands of your hair out of your face. He stares down at you with lust-filled eyes before cupping your jaw with his large palm. Subtly, Pierro tilts your face upward and meets your lips in a passionate kiss. As he presses his mouth against your own, applying just the correct amount of pressure, his thumb gently strokes your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss, one that leaves you breathless and wanting more. 

Before he can catch himself and reel in his self-restraint, Pierro cups your breast. Your arms loop around his neck, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he fondles and squeezes at your chest. The constant stimulation only makes you greedier for more and your hips create a mind of their own as you roll slowly upwards against his pelvis. 

“My wife,” Pierro groans, pulling away momentarily to catch his breath. His voice sounds shaky as he tries to fight back the overwhelming desire to just take you right now. “enough, before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

The first of the eleven Fatui harbingers thinks he has himself under control finally, that he will be able to continue but then you glance up at him. In your young eyes, mischief shines brighter than the life in his own. 

“It’s alright if I don’t regret it, don’t you think?” And then you kiss him once more. You yank roughly on his neck, catching him off guard, and pull him down again. 

The growl that leaves your husband is animalistic. His sharp reflexes snap at your wrist, pinning you effectively to the bed without much room to move. The kiss of his lips, once sweet, turns possessive and greedy as he presses you into submission. With little fight, you obediently fall right into his open palms with your lips parting at the slightest jut of his tongue. 

Skillful hips roll against your own, Pierro’s hard cock grinds into your clothed cunt and the sensation against your sensitive clit makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. When you start failing to kiss back, Pierro makes his attack. He squeezes your wrists and shoves his tongue into your mouth, swallowing and taking all that you will give him. Your thighs are beginning to burn against the stretch of being spread for his muscular waist but, the pain is dulled over at each slot of his hips. 

Your pitiful whimper pulls him from his conquest and Pierro remorsefully separates himself from your lips. 

“I need you,” Your whisper does not fall deaf on his ears, Pierro hears every single word. No matter how much you make fun of the older man, poking at his true age, he’s sharpened every one of his skills beyond their years. 

“I know, my beloved, I know what you need.” His hands make you sigh out loud as they run up and down your waist, breathy moans leave your lips. “Do you understand the affection that I hold for you? Are you aware of the effect you have on me?” Pierro closely watches your reaction, stares as you keep your eyes closed and don’t so much as flinch at his words. You simply hum and lay like a blessing against his sheets. Now, the older man lowers his lips to your stomach and presses his mouth into your skin. He gently creates a path to the band of your panties with each kiss getting heavier than the last. 

“One day, you will understand the true extent of my feelings.”

Zhongli

Lately, you’ve been worried about your husband. Your concerns are nothing new or anything revolutionary but, you can’t speak about it to your friends or others who are unaware of his godly status. To deal with the matter, you sought out the one person you could discuss the matter with, one of the people who know him better than you do. 

“I’m worried about Zhongli,” You sit patiently at the stone table, in your husband’s seat as you confess your inner feelings to the cloud retainer. 

“Zhongli?” The bird rolls her eyes, tasting the name on her tongue before it clicks. “Morax. What is there to be concerned about? Foolish girl, he adores you.” The cloud retainer raises a judgmental brow at your timidness as she pours you a cup of tea. She sits down with an elegance that makes you feel small in her presence. Still, you proceed. 

If any of the adeptus are going to listen to you, it’s her. If there is a single one that you can trust, it is her. 

“Isn’t that the problem?” Truthfully, you have been worried about the upcoming and unforeseen future. You’re always worried about it. Not that you will disappear soon but, mortal lives are nothing compared to that of an adeptus. How will he fare when you pass? How can you prepare him for it? “What will happen to him when I inevitably-”

The aged bird cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. 

“Speaking of such circumstances when they are nowhere in the near future will only come back to bite you.” Cloud retainer quietly sips at her drink, leaving a few moments of silence between the two of you before she sighs. “Fully cherish the time you have with him, that is the only piece of advice I can offer you.”

And that is as far as you go with her on the matter, the conversation was over.

Still, in your heart, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

It continued to bug you even as you tried to ignore it, even as you tried to cherish the time you have with the immortal. 

“How are you today, my dear?” Every single day when he returns, Zhongli finds you and presses a delicate kiss on your cheek. It’s a kind gesture that always makes you melt into the palm of his hand. 

It also, more often than not, always leads to something else. Something more intimate. 

“Would you forgive me if I said that I missed you today,” Zhongli’s low voice fills your senses and clouds your mind, leaving you barely unable to think. Now pressed into the couch with your husband over top of you, protectively holding your thighs over his hips, all you can do is take everything that the god has to give you. “I’m often missing you when you are away.” 

His pure confessions make your gut twist in an uncomfortable way. 

“Will you be okay when I am no longer here?” You whisper, letting the words spill into his ears as you hide your face in his neck. 

Zhongli stops his movements. The gentle, smooth thrusts of his hips come to a standstill as his hands lower from your thighs. He places a palm beside your head and pulls back enough that he can look at you. 

“I will never be the same without you.” The raw emotion in his features and the distinct vulnerability in his eyes cause tears to well up in your eyes. “But, I will continue to live. Your memory will keep me alive until we can be reunited again.” His gentle touch comes up to wipe at your tears as his thumbs brush over your cheeks. “I don’t want you to be worried about that just yet, okay, my gem?”

Softly, Zhongli presses his lips against yours and it muffles the sob that leaves your lips. 

You tighten the grip that you have on his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin as your lips open for his tongue. 

“I love you, I will always love you forever.” He murmurs into your cheek before kissing over your eyelids. Smoothly, his hips pick up a slow pace once more and you gasp loudly. The sound makes your husband laugh, gently shaking as he presses his forehead against your own. “If I had my way, we would have met earlier and you would never part from my side.” 

In every touch, he portrays how much he loves you. There is an ‘I love you’ in the press of his fingers against your hips. There is an ‘I love you’ in the skillful roll of your hips and there is an ‘I love you’ in the gentle kiss of his lips. 

Yes, Zhongli is sure he will always love you. Even through grief and mourning, he will never forget the feeling of loving you. 

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Billy x thief reader 👀 she tries to pick pocket billy without knowing his reputation which only leads to a flirty confrontation. Love your writing smm 💕

Takes two to tango || Billy the Kid x reader

A/n: i love this request, keep them coming!!!!! and thank you anon <333

Warnings: none?

Wc: 673

Billy the Kid masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

Santa Fe's sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden hues over the terra cote streets. You, adorned in a vibrant red dress that swayed with each sway of your hip, glided through the lively crowd. Your h/c hair framed an innocent smile that could charm even the sternest of faces, a charming and strikingly beautiful young woman whose smile hid secrets, a façade concealing the nimble fingers of a pickpocket.

The people of Santa Fe were oblivious to the danger that walked among them. No one suspected a pretty lady like yourself with a twinkle in your eyes, adorned in jewelry, to be a master of the unsavory art, pickpocketing.

Your charm, your grace that rivaled even the most high status ladies in society was your greatest weapon. Your targets were carefully chosen, and you would distract them with a captivating smile, witty banter, flirtatious charm, and the subtle dance of your nimble fingers.

One fateful day, the town buzzed, a cloud of dust announced the arrival of a lone cowboy. He had an air of mystery about him that drew your attention, a charm that rivaled your own. His rugged features were hidden beneath the brim of his worn hat, his piercing blue eyes surveyed the vibrant scene, taking in the sights and sounds of Santa Fe with a cool confidence.

Unable to resist the lure of a new challenge, you sauntered over to him with a coy smile, your hips swaying subtly with each step. "Well, hello there, stranger. Santa Fe welcomes you," you greeted him, your voice as sweet as honey.

Billy, drawn in by your beauty and charisma, reciprocated with a smile that revealed his dimples, tipping his hat. "Thank you, ma'am. Quite a lively place you got 'ere," his gaze locks on you. "Santa Fe is quite something, I agree." You softly chuckle, your eyes scanning him.

"What brings you here," You tilt your head, letting charm take center change. One corner of his lip tips up, his eyes drifting to the side for a fleeting moment as you inch closer to him.

You engage in conversation as Billy responds with equal enthusiasm. As you spoke, your fingers moved with practiced precision, exploring the edges of his pockets. The marketplace provided the perfect cover, its chaotic ambiance camouflaging your subtle movements.

You reveled in the thrill of the heist, confident that your charm would keep him blissfully unaware. Billy, though new to Santa Fe, was no stranger to the art of survival. His instincts kicked in as he felt the subtle graze of your fingers, and with a swift motion, grabbed your delicate wrist with a slight smirk.

Surprise flashed across your features, but you quickly composed yourself, turning the encounter into a playful interaction. "Well now, what do we have 'ere?" Billy's voice was low and velvety as he spoke. "A charming lady with a mischievous side."

You chuckled, feigning innocence. "Oh, you caught me. I must admit, you're quite perceptive, cowboy. Maybe I just couldn't resist the allure of a handsome cowboy like yourself," Billy's gaze lingered on you, a spark of amusement in his eyes.

Billy chuckled, releasing your wrist. "Well, darlin' you've got nerve I'll give you that, most folks 'round here just tip their hats and move on," You tilt your head coyly to the side at his words.

"I'm not like most folks, and you're not like most cowboys," you arch and eyebrow at him. "Tell me, darlin', what would drive a lady like you to such daring efforts?"

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you responded, "Survival, perhaps," You shrug, Billy's laugh resonated through the air, a deep and hearty sound.

"Well, you've certainly made my day more interesting, ma'am. But I reckon you should find a more honest way to make a living," A challenge flickered between you and the handsome outlaw, an unspoken understanding that there was more to both of you than met the eye.

"They say there are two paths that a women can take; marry, or whore yourself," You began, looking around before you fold your arms. "Tried whoring," Billy's lips part, "but that only made me realise my self-worth more," Your eyes fall down onto the grown at your feet where you kick a rock.

"Oh I know you're worth more than that, sweetheart." Billy steps closer to you, taking your chin in between his fingers which catches you off guard. The air crackled with a tension that transcended mere flirtation. The dance between pickpocket and cowboy had just begun.

"Seems you've got a talent for lightening a man's pockets," Billy remarked, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as you mirror him. You raised an eyebrow, "it's just a little something I picked up along the way. Keeps life interesting, wouldn't you say?"

Billy leaned against a wooden post, his gaze never leaving yours. "Interesting is one way to put it," he swallows, his eyes watching a family walk past, "most folks call it risky business, though," you lock eyes with him once again.

"Oh, but where's the fun without a bit of risk?" you replied, a playful glint in your eyes. "Besides, I've got a knack for it." Billy chuckled, shaking his head, "Well, ma'am, you've certainly added a twist to my day. Never thought I'd meet a pickpocket so......" he trails off, his eyes swept over you, a heat evident in the way his eyes drank your details, from head to toe before wetting his lips, "charming."

You stepped closer, the little space between you filled with an electric energy. "And I never though I'd such a handsome cowboy with keen instincts. Caught me fair and square." Billy's gaze softened, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

"So, what's a charming lady like you doing in a place like this? There's gotta be more to the story." You sighed, as if revealing a secret. "Life's not always as pretty as it seems. Sometimes, a girl's gotta do what she can to get by."

His expression grew more serious, a subtle understanding passing between you. "We've all go out ways of surviving in this world." He sharply inhales, his hands resting on his hips. "Would you like somethin' to drink, ma'am?" He questions you with a subtle smirk on his lips as you bite your lip lightly, "Though you'd never ask," Billy cracks a smile.

[nina-ya]

Happy Birthday - Law Edition

A/N: this is single-handedly the most self indulgent fic Ive done in a while so uh yeah anyways bye Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None WC: 2k

“Happy Birthday!” 

The joyful shout rang through the room, jolting you awake from your mid-day nap. Your eyes fluttered open to the smiling faces of your crewmates who gathered around your figure with infectious grins. 

You blinked, trying to make sense of the scene before you. Streamers in vibrant shades of various colors draped from the ceiling, balloons bobbed merrily in the corners, and confetti showered down on you, all combining to paint the room in a riot of colors.

“What–?” you began, your voice thick with sleep, but your words were swallowed by the laughter and sound of a party horn. The atmosphere was alive and filled with excitement, the joy emanating a celebration that was crafted only with love and care.

Bepo, with his furry face beaming, bounced on his toes, eyes sparkling as he spoke, “We couldn’t wait for you to wake up on your own,” he said, voice filled with eagerness. “We’ve been planning this for weeks!” 

Ikkaku handed you a steaming cup of coffee as she said, with a grin stretching across her face, “We just wanted to make sure you felt celebrated.”

“And it looks like Law is waiting for you with your first gift,” Shachi said, excitement evident in his tone.

The mention of Law piqued your curiosity, and you quickly set down the mug, eyes darting around the room for him. “Law? Where is he?”

Penguin sat on your bed beside you, nudging your leg playfully. “He’s been waiting for you to get ready. He should be somewhere on the deck.”

Surprised flitted across your face, and you scrambled out of bed, dashing to the small bathroom of the Polar Tang to quickly toss yourself together. A few hurried adjustments later, you made your way to the deck, spotting Law standing near the railing. He turned as you approached, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your excited figure approach.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice as steady as ever. “I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I thought it would be best if you picked something out yourself. How about we spend the day shopping?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the idea, “Really? You didn’t have to do that, but I would love to!”

Law nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “I figured it would be more enjoyable if you chose something you really like. Plus, I thought it would be nice to spend some time together.”

With a nod, you fell into a step beside him as you left the Polar Tang, and made your way into the inner city of the island. The marketplace of the island was alive, filled with stalls that offered various trinkets and items. You meandered through the endless rows of vendors, each presenting their products with enthusiasm. Street performers drew crowds to their lively performances, the smell of the street food wafted through the air making you salivate with an eagerness to try everything. As you explored, you found yourself drawn to a smaller shop brimming with trinkets and Law watched as you admired all the handcrafted figurines and jewelry. 

The hours passed, the sun already inching across the sky by the time you both made your way back to the Polar Tang. The day had been nothing short but delightful. You carried a small bag filled with a few selected gifts, all paid for by Law, of course. 

You inched closer to the ship and you noticed the crew’s unusually quiet demeanor. You were curious, but brushed it off as nothing more than fatigue from the day’s tasks. Law walked beside you, his expression unreadable, though there was something in his eyes that suggested he knew something more than he was letting on. 

Upon entering the ship, you were greeted by darkness, and as you descended deeper into it, the lights suddenly flickered on, and a chorus of voices erupted in unison yelling, “Surprise!”

The crew transformed the Polar Tang into a vibrant celebration space, adorned with those same streamers and balloons that you had woken up to, along with a large banner stretching across the ceiling, reading “Happy Birthday!” in bold letters. You spotted a table filled with nothing short of a feast, and music began to play as the festive atmosphere was cranked up to a maximum. 

The party got underway and laughter and conversation filled the air. You were swept up in the festivities, moving on from one group to the next. At one point, you found yourself pulled into a less-than-graceful dance with Bepo. The two of you twirled and spun around the submarine, your laughter ringing out over the music as your fellow crewmates clapped along. It was a moment of pure unfiltered joy.

Everywhere you turned, there were reminders of the thoughtfulness that had gone into the celebration. The party soon moved to the deck of the ship, now laughing and enjoying the festivities under the moonlight.

As the night wore on, you felt a gentle tug on your arm. You turned to find Law standing there, his expression softened by your unbridled happiness. ”Mind if I steal you away for a moment?” he asked, voice raised to carry over the lively chatter. 

You nodded, and Law gently tugged you away from the buzz of the birthday festivities, leading you to a quieter and more secluded corner of the ship. The lanterns that hung off the side of the Polar Tang enveloped the two of you in a warm, ambient light as the laughter and chatter of the party grew distant.

You glanced around, every nerve in your body alight with happiness. “This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had, without a doubt,” you began your voice becoming thick with emotion as you spoke. “I’ve never had anything like this before. It feels… It feels like a dream. I never knew how much I needed this, how much I needed all of this.” 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as you continued, “It’s overwhelming. I don’t even know how to put it into words. This whole day, everything… It’s been perfect.” Your voice had cracked slightly, and you wiped at the corners of your eyes, trying to keep those tears at bay. “It’s as if I was drowning, and being with everyone, with you, is just like coming up for a breath of fresh air. I-I don’t even need anything more. This has been just a perfect day.”

Law watched you, a soft, almost wistful smile on your lips. The sight of you so vulnerable and so emotional just pulled on his heartstrings. You were absolutely precious to him and he couldn’t help but want to protect this version of you. To keep you this happy forever. “I wanted to give you something,” he said, his voice quieter as he seemed to dive into something more personal.

You looked up at him, curiosity panging at you alongside the rest of the overwhelming mix of emotions that were about to spill over. “Wait, wait, I thought the shopping spree was your gift to me.” 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t get you a proper gift?” he asked, chuckling.

“I- You… you didn’t have to get me anything,” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

Law reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in a red wrapping paper with your name inscribed right in the center. As he handed it to you, your fingers brushed slightly against each other, the contact sending goosebumps up your arms. The sight of the gift caused the tears to start falling, the dam of emotions finally bursting. 

“Hey hey,” he said softly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you with mild concern. “You haven’t even seen the gift yet, and you’re already crying. Am I really that bad at this?”

You laughed through your tears, embarrassment evident in your response. “It’s not you. It’s just… everything. It’s too much”

Law’s grin widened, and he shook his head, urging you to unwrap the gift. “Well, I’m glad I could make you cry, I guess. Here-- open it before you become a total mess.”

You looked down at the box and your tear droplets had stained the wrapping paper a deep maroon. Carefully, you began unwrapping the gift at the seams, revealing a small, black box. You opened the box to reveal a bracelet, its delicate silver chain catching the soft light and shimmering against the velvet interior. 

Law took the bracelet from the box with careful fingers, and you extended your wrist towards him. He gently wrapped the bracelet around your wrist, the cool metal contrasting the warmth of his fingers as he fastened the clasp, the charms tinkling softly as they settled into place. “Everyone got to help pick out some charms,” Law said, holding up your wrist and gently rotating it to show off the bracelet. You looked closely and saw the array of charms, each one a gift from your found family. There was a polar bear, a whale, a penguin - each representing some of the members of the crew - and others that you realized reflected your personal interests.

“These I picked myself,” Law continued, pointing to three charms that lay by each other. He grew a bit shy as he started to explain their significance. “The national flower of the island where I first met you,” he said, pointing at a floral charm. “A firework, for the night at that festival where I took you because you begged for days on end,” he added with a small smile, pointing to the second charm. Finally, he gestured to the last one, a tiny depiction of a moon. “The phase of the moon when we first kissed.”

You looked up at him, sniffling as confusion overtook your teary features. “First kiss? What? I’m confused.”

Law glanced up at the sky, prompting you to follow his gaze. There, hanging in the night sky, was the moon in its waxing gibbous phase, mirroring the smaller charm on your bracelet. The pieces started to click in your head as you looked back at him, realization dawning.

He spoke up, his voice soft yet steady. “Tonight. If you’ll let me.”

You blinked, caught between disbelief and the rising emotions that made your heart race in your chest. The realization of what he meant – what he was offering – washed over you and it was as if the universe had aligned for this one moment. 

His eyes met yours and there was a vulnerability present, the unanswered question hanging between the two of you. You found yourself nodding, and without breaking eye contact, Law took a small step closer, the space narrowing until you could feel the heat radiating off his body and the scent of him overcoming your senses. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your tear-dampened skin. 

Law leaned in slowly, giving you time to close the gap if you wished, but you eagerly met him halfway, your lips lightly brushing against his in a gentle touch that sent shivers down your spine.

The kiss was soft at first, a hesitant exploration of each other. But, as you leaned into him, your hand having found its way to the nape of his neck to tangle in his hair, it deepened, the initial hesitancy giving way to something more fervent.

The gift box in his hand dropped to the ground with a thud, and he circled his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, time standing still, as the kiss unfolded. His lips were soft against yours, moving with a gentle insistence that left you breathless and demanding more, the taste of him intoxicating, making your head spin.

When you finally broke apart, the need for air becoming unignorable, you both lingered for a moment, foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath. The night was alive around you, the sounds of the party fading back into awareness, but for that one moment, there was only you two.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in another kiss that was more heated than the last. 

This certainly was the best birthday ever. 

[ma1dita]

Hiii. Can I get one ticket for "and they were brommates". Starring Remus Lupin with a popcorn 🍿 and a chocolate 🍫 please?

hungry like the wolf

[STARRING: REMUS LUPIN x reader ; “Just forget you saw this happen.” “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.”  wc: 1.5k warnings: none. remus is a weirdo just as god intended. no plot. he’s also a panty sniffer. kind of a crackfic i wont lie… muggle!reader; title like the duran duran song]

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

You’re convinced your new roommate hates you. 

Honestly, it was just your luck that your apartment resident portal matched you with a rando that won’t tell you any details about his home life, the fancy boarding school he went to, or anything he does for work (he’s in law enforcement, he says—though you’ve thrown his worn laundry in the dryer for him before with no evidence of a uniform and he’s always been pretty frugal… maybe he’s a clerk?).

Totally not suspicious at all.

But rent is fucking expensive these days for you to not have a roommate, and he seems nice enough, for now. Remus plays Bowie on his record player in the evenings at respectable volumes, washes the dishes since you hate doing them and always leaves chocolate for you with little notes if he’s going out to see his mother who gets sick a lot.

Plus, he’s pretty handy around the apartment—so much so that a single woman like you can’t complain—he reaches for things on high shelves, carries all your groceries in from the car, and minds his business for the most part until his friends come over—which makes the million dollar question: why doesn’t he live with them? The boys come over and knock down your door, then Sirius and James always drag you out for a pint  instead of leaving you to work on your thesis while the other rat-faced one eats all your snacks and… Remus just sits there with his nose scrunched up not saying anything, always on edge. He just sits uncomfortably at the opposite end of the room all bunched up like he’s ready to run at any given moment.

Maybe he tolerates you at best, a few nods and soft ‘Hello’s are all you get throughout the week. Or maybe you have bad breath? Is that why in the half year you two have lived together you haven’t been together for more than 10 minutes?

What’s worse is that he’s painfully attractive. Like rugged, in a sexy, 2000s male lead in a rom-com sort of way, his thick brows always furrowed and an expression that makes you think that he has something to get off his chest, but he never says more than a handful of words. In short, the only possible reason for your roommate avoiding you is that Remus Lupin hates you with his entire being.

It has to be.

You’re convinced of the fact on a particular Friday night as you hop around the apartment with one boot on, your belt unbuckled, and hair still sopping wet. It’s a rare occasion for you to go out with your own friends and not hole yourself up at home, but the cabin fever is starting to make you itch. Remus has been watching your figure bob around your shared place, eyes bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball. His scarred hands are gripping his mug tightly as he takes a large sip of tea, terrible posture evident in the way he’s draped over the settee.

“M’going out tonight,” you muse, smiling at him as you walk down the hallway, peeking at your reflection in the bathroom mirror before turning to him. Remus nods politely, “Right. That’s good.” You don’t think you’ve heard him say more than a sentence and so you shrug, leaning against the doorway, “You got plans tonight?”

“Staying in. Feeling a bit under the weather,” he gulps. Remus is tucked under the periwinkle throw blanket you got from TK Maxx for the sofa you both found on Facebook marketplace. He looks cozy, snuggling into the fleece and watching you brush your hair with his tired eyes.

“Aw, Remus. You gonna be alright?”

He sniffs, his face making that pinchy expression again as you come near, “S’all good. You should get going, don’t wanna be late for your…thing.” He doesn’t mean to be rude, but you’re too overwhelming the way you are, your scent permeating through the air even from his spot on the couch and it’s taking all of his willpower to tone down his furry little problem that begs for a taste. He looks away, physically biting his tongue as a reminder.

Now your face scrunches at his reaction, not understanding why he’s so detached from your niceties. Spinning around until your eyes flicker to the mirror and your form, you close the bathroom door gently, before inspecting yourself meticulously. Your outfit is new, and you’ve just sprayed on your favorite perfume earlier… maybe….

You raise an armpit and take a sniff.

Nope. 

What the fuck is this guy’s problem?

After a small pep talk, you swing the door open and step out. Surely, he’ll tell you what’s wrong if you ask him upfront. Sure, it might be ill-timed to get into a conversation that might make or break your living arrangement right before you go out to the club with your friends, but as you’re pacing down the hall you think there is no better time to do it. It would eat at you all night and ruin your fun, after all.

The living room is empty now, blanket folded over and draped on the ottoman and you swivel towards the other end of the hall, “Remus?” you call out meekly. So much for confidence. He’s probably went to bed, or again he just hates you. 

There’s a slight chill when you stick your hand out the window, so you make your way over to the laundry room where you left your leather jacket last, and when you go to flick the light on—-

There stands your lovely roommate, sniffing a black polka-dotted pair of your panties.

“WHATTHEFUCK?” “MERLIN!”

You’re pointing at each other, mouths gaping in shock as he backs towards the washing machine as he chokes on his spit, face as red as a tomato, “I can explain!’

“Oh you better! I….” you blurt, scanning the room for a weapon and swinging the bottle of detergent at his head, “Talk, freak!”

“I thought you LEFT ALREADY!”

The look on your face is more mortified than he thought it would be but how does he explain that every inch of this place smells of you? Your pheromones reek from your pores like a sultry perfume and he can’t get enough, unconsciously walking closer like a cartoon character hypnotized by the smell of pie. Stumbling over a discarded piece of clothing, he staggers back as you get in his face and whack him in the chest, once with your hand and then twice with your jacket you were looking for.

“You—fucking—weirdo!”

Remus flinches, raising his arms against your attack, “Godric, just forget you saw this happen, please—OW!” Eyes fixed in a glare, you stand in front of him with a finger prodding at his chest, “Give that back!”

“They’re clean!”

Your hands wrench the cotton out of his hands and hold them close to your chest, “They’re NOT! Lie to me again and I swear I’ll call the police!” The sandy-haired man throws his head back seemingly in laughter and you purse your lips, realizing that he is the police, in some sorts. Unless that’s a lie too.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Remus grumbles as he takes a deep breath, “Let me explain, I… I can’t help it. You smell too good.”

What the fuck.

From the way your eye is twitching and how your chest is heaving as you clutch your panties, he knows it’s not a good enough response but fuck there’s a lot on the line here, and he doesn’t know where to start, “I…fucking hell, I’m a werewolf, okay?”

“Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” 

Remus blinks slowly, and you laugh at him, jaw still tense but at least you’re laughing at him, “I mean really, you have to come up with better excuses—I kinda had a hunch after our 3rd full moon and you left to go see your mom. Is she even really sick? You’ve giving the woman bad karma.”

He shakes his head, jaw gaping at how nonchalantly a muggle is taking this news. Shouldn’t you be running away in fear by now? Clearing his throat, “Um, yeah. So your pheromones,” he sniffs, “smell really, really good to me. Like a seven layer chocolate cake. I think our cycles are matched up.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

At least he doesn’t hate you, you reason, slowly closing the door to the laundry room behind you with a quirk in your lip, “I thought I smelled bad or something, with the way you look at me.”

“I think my face just looks like this. M’sorry. You’re not scared?”

He’s closer to you now, arms circling your frame like a predator on the prowl, waiting for you to make a move. But you step closer to him, baring your neck and giving him permission to eat you up if he wishes. Licking your lips, you whisper, “James almost blew up my cellphone with his wand last week when I tried to show him a Youtube video. You’re all weird ones, aren’t you?”

“That okay?” 

The silence in the small room feels reverent now, his fingers pressing against your wrists as he holds them at your waist—voice so low it makes you shiver.

“I didn't say it was a bad thing.”

Hopefully he can think of a way to make it up to you. But the way you let him graze his nose up your arm and back you against the door as he takes a big, deep inhale….is a good start.

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[moonlight-records]

Secret Santa| MS36 (HAC #11)

pairing: ms36 x reader

summary: Mercedes is doing secret santa for their holiday party which is fine, typically. What happens when by some stroke of luck, you get your long time crush?

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: 1.5k

a/n: day 11 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 |day 10 | current day | day 12

“...The limit for gifts is £100. Once again, this does not mean you need to spend £100 on a gift but if you want to buy something a bit more expensive you can.” Toto continues on. You, by some miracle, tune your boss out as you look back down at the folded piece of paper in your hand. It feels like it’s burning into your skin as you watch Toto drone on about the rules of secret Santa. 

“Finally,” you’ve never been more excited to hear those words leave your boss’ mouth, “do not share who you got for secret Santa!” Toto explains before staring at all of you and gesturing, “open them.”

You watch all your co-workers around you start opening their pieces of paper. All of them, in their own form, are tucking themselves away to read the name and you simply look down at yours before finally opening it. 

Mick Schumacher.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper with wide eyes looking at the paper. It was only your work’s secret Santa but you had to get it right. How else were you supposed to try and impress your crush if you didn’t nail Secret Santa right.

Sitting in the factory parking lot, you browsed your phone frantically searching for anything at this point. The party was tomorrow and everyone was raving about how good their presents were and you had nothing.

Somehow three weeks flew by and you still hadn’t bought your secret Santa present. You had found a lot of potential gifts but nothing really screamed Mick and it was driving you nuts since this was all you thought about when you weren’t at work. For fuck sake, you finished your holiday shopping for all your friends and family while trying to find the perfect Mick for gift but anytime you didn’t have money or the excuse, you could always find something for Mick. You were starting to accept the fact that you were going to botch this one attempt with Mick and make a fool of yourself in front of him.

Hitting your head gently against the headrest you sigh softly. Looking back at your phone, you refresh Facebook Marketplace and scroll through before seeing it. Your eyes widen as you read an ad before putting your phone into your cup holder. You start your car and you’re off. 

You manage to get to the location in 30 minutes. Getting out, you make your way into the building and talk to the first worker that’s available. You explain your situation and how your secret would absolutely love this and take such great care and has so many already but they’re with his family and how he’s been always talking about one. After a lot of paperwork and talking, you finally secure the gift. Getting your gift carefully in the passenger seat, you thank the worker once again before climbing into the driver seat and heading to the store to get a few last minute things to make a little basket for this gift before heading home.

You’re up late building your basket. Taking a step back, you smile at your hard work and how it’ll finally pay off. “Perfect.” You say aloud before laying down on the couch, too tired to make it to bed as you happily drift off to sleep, excited for tomorrow.

To say that everyone was more excited about the holiday party than anything else was an understatement. Honestly, it was a miracle that Toto didn’t get so annoyed at the entire company for horribly pretending they were working. It seems that the factory did annoy him enough that he had everyone go home early to get ready for the party. You thank Toto as you leave the factory before going home and changing for the party. 

You check yourself over and brush your red dress of little fuzzes that got on it. Putting your tights on, you slip some spandex on before your boots before gathering everything and packing the car. Coming back, you carefully grab your present and make your way back to the factory for the party. You park and grab your gift as you head inside, thanking a coworker who held the door open for you and find a table that’s tucked away closer to a corner and put your gift down, admiring how fast Toto and some workers decorated the factory. 

As more people arrive, the more lively it becomes before the party is in full swing. You have a drink in hand as you talk to some of your co-workers, occasionally glancing back at your gift that’s still resting on the chair. When you’re not overly anxious about your gift, your gaze finds its way to Mick and you can’t help but admire him. A stupid love sick smile appears on your face before his eyes meet yours and he smiles at you. You blink before smiling back, shyly waving before glancing away as your face burns in embarrassment. You look back and see Mick excusing himself from a conversation with Lewis and Bono as he starts making his way over to you.

Shit.

You brace yourself to embarrass yourself before Toto is loudly calling for everyone’s attention and everyone freezes to listen to Toto. You feel relief run through you but it’s short lived as he announces that dinner will be ready in a few moments so while everyone waits, they can finally exchange their gifts. You stand frozen as everyone erupts into chatter, zooming around to find their secret Santa. You turn to look at your gift before there’s a tap on your shoulder before turning and blinking. “Mick!” You were sure as hell he would’ve gone to find his secret Santa. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mick smiles. He glances down at the box he’s holding, fidgeting with it slightly, “so um.” He offers the box to you a bit more rigid than he wanted and winces internally, “for you.”

“Me?” You ask, surprise, as you take it. “I–I was your secret Santa?”

“Yeah. Which–works because…” Mick’s voice trails off as you carefully untie the ribbon. You glance up seeing Mick shift anxiously before looking back down and opening the box slowly and gasping. Inside the box was a gold jewelry set. Simple gold hoop earrings along with a gold necklace that had your initials on a charm with hearts surrounding them. “Oh Mick,” you whisper after finding your breath again. Looking at him you’re smiling wide. “It’s beautiful. Oh–thank you so much. I’m. I’m truly at a loss for words with how beautiful it is–”

“Then go on a date with me? Please?” Mick blurts out.

“What?” You look at Mick. 

You’re both staring at each other with wide eyes. You’re staring in disbelief because you don’t think you heard Mick right and Mick’s staring at you with a sheepish smile because it seems that this wasn’t exactly how he wanted to ask you. “Me?” You point to yourself. “You.” Pointing to Mick, “a date?”

“Yeah. If you want, which I really hope you do. Though it’s totally fine if you don’t!” Mick says quickly, “might make things awkward. I don’t really want it to be but that’s also fine and–”

“Mick!” You finally cut him off. “I would love to go on a date with you!”

“Really?!”

Nodding excitedly, “yes!”

“Great!” Mick beams as he follows you to your seat. He’s rambling off date ideas before stopping when his eyes fall onto your gift basket. “Oh! Did you make this? This is so cute! Who’s it for?”

“You.” 

It’s Mick’s turn to be surprised as he points to himself. “Me? You had me for secret Santa?” He laughs when you nod, “Well, what are the odds of that?” He goes to pick it up but stops when you gently put your arm out and instruct him to just open it. He raises a brow but he does slowly before gasping and covering his mouth. “Oh my god. Y/N–are you serious?” He stares at you in awe before turning back to the sleepy Saint Bernard puppy who’s in the middle of a yawn as she looks up. She immediately wiggles in Mick’s gentle hold before cuddling into his chest and wagging her tail. “Y/N I–I don’t know what to say. How did you–”

“No kill shelter that was already overflowing. Someone had brought this litter in and given them away for free. I found the ad at the last second and the little girl was one of three left. It took a very long conversation and many pictures of you and your family dog for them to agree but they did. Completely free so I really spent all the money on stuff you’d need for her.” You gesture to the basket. 

“Y/N, this is the best present anybody could have gotten me.” Mick says earnestly, “I really don’t know what to say or how to thank you–”

“Maybe we could have dinner at your place and do some training with this girl,” you explain while petting the pup, “and we could call that our first date, yeah?” Mick looks up from his cooing and gushing over the pup. “Deal.” 

[somanyratsinthewalls]

2 Years Later (+18)

2 Years Later (+18) (Zoro x Reader)

Summary: You finally decide it's time to tell Zoro how you feel. Too bad he's a fucking idiot.

Pairing: Zoro x afab!reader

WC: 1500 OPE

Ageless Blogs and Minors DNI you WILL be blocked immediately

TW: angst, hate sex, vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex, romance, pining, pet names, once again so much plot with also porn, idk help!

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” 

Zoro muttered to himself as he firmly rapped his head on the back of the wall he was sitting against. He was out on the deck staring towards the bow of the Sunny, leaning up his back against the wall to the galley. How could he be such a fool? He hadn’t seen you in 2 years and he wasted the sweet moment of your reunion by accusing you of sleeping with someone you had met during your time away from everyone. Zoro let those insecurities of not be able to find you or protect you bubble up to the surface and he came off as an asshole instead of someone who deeply cares about you. Loves you, even… 

But now here he was, alone, physically thrown out of your room and not daring to return. He couldn’t believe he wasted his big chance to confess and made you hate him in the process…

— 12 hours before The Fight — 

Your stomach was in knots, couldn’t believe you were really about to see your crewmates again after 2 years. Everyone had been through so much, and so had you. You snapped out of your anxious thoughts and hitched up your backpack and made your way into the market on Sabaody. 

You heard him before you saw him, the sound of his deep voice clearly frustrated with whoever he was talking with. You heard it in the marketplace and instinctively whipped around to see a pair of broad shoulders and the sparkle of 3 earrings above his left one. You flew towards him and instinctively wrapped your arms around his strong back, not missing how much larger he had become. 

“What the hell? Why are-“ Zoro looked down, he knew those arms. Your arms, the ones he wished so often to place kisses on their soft skin… the ones he imagined gripping his biceps as he plowed into you… 

“Y/n?”  

Zoro din’t hug you back, but you didn’t expect him to. It wasn’t his style. You didn’t care, you liked him that way. But of course… you’d never tell him that…

— 2 hours before The Fight —

You were so excited to see everyone again, but also excited to celebrate with them. Your evening was filled with lots of delicious food and tons of booze. You gaze across the table at Zoro, catching his eye before he looked down at his glass. Now that he was no longer staring at you, he realized it was empty and rose from his stool to refill his cup. Maybe it was the alcohol or the endorphins in your brain from seeing your friends after so long, but you thought tonight would be the night you tell Zoro how you really feel. You rise from your own chair and follow him into the kitchen. You sauntered in and found your swordsman pouring himself another hefty glass of liquor. 

“Some things never change, huh.” The words came out far more sultry than you expected, perhaps it was the booze talking. 

“Hmm,” he smirked and lightly chuckled. “I could say the same to you, you haven’t exactly stayed sober all night.”

You laughed at his remark and sidled up to him putting your glass on the table next to his, gesturing to pour one for you as well.  He silently nodded and poured you a large shot in your cup. You looked into each others eyes, and without breaking contact clinked your glasses together. You both take your drinks and you wince. He doesn’t. 

“Come to my room tonight, Zoro. I have to talk to you about something.”

His eyes blew wide. What did you need to talk to him about? Had you met someone on your journeys? Were you going to break it to him that you were leaving the crew and running off with some pirate blow hard and nev-?

“Zoro?” You prompted him when he didn’t respond.

“Hmm? Uh. Yeah. I can do that.”

“Right. See you later then.” You smiled at him and returned to the festivities. Leaving him in the kitchen alone again. He poured himself another drink. He was going to need it.  

— The Fight — 

You paced in your room. You brushed your hair out, applied your favorite perfume, it was going to be perfect. Still imbued with a little liquid courage, you knew this was the moment you were finally going to tell Zoro how you feel. You had so much time over the past 2 years to think about your feelings for him.

He wasn’t the kind of man many women would fawn over. Of course he was handsome, but he had his quirks. Very little went though the brain rattling around under his green hair other than the thought of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. But still, he always made a point to check in with you during hard battles, more than he did with anyone else. It was those little things he did that sparked your romantic feelings for him 

*knock knock* he didn’t wait for a response, since the knob turned immediately following the second knock. He gingerly peaked his head in the door, “Y/n?”

“Hi Zoro, you can come in.” 

He walked in and you sat down on your bed and patted the space next to you for him to sit. 

“I prefer to stand.” He responded nervously. What the hell had gotten into him? He had sat next to you on your bed so many times before while you sharpened your blades together. He was so comfortable then, so strange now… What had happened to the laid back swordsman you knew? Had it really been that long?

“ok…” you started. Figuring you were in for a penny, in for a pound on this confession thing, you might as well do it. It was eating you alive. “Zoro… I know you and I care about each other, but it’s just been so long…” You were stumbling over your words, unable to meet his gaze. “Um.. and I’ve had so much time away from you… and I just can’t help that I just…”

“Who was it? Who is he?” Zoro raised his voice at you. He had never done that before in all your time sailing with him. You’d only even seen him do it at enemies or at Sanji during their fruitless arguments. 

“Zoro what-? What are you talking about? Who is who?” You heart started pounding even harder and there was a pit in your stomach forming. He was upset with you? You hadn’t even said anything yet!

“The man that you’re leaving us for! Isn’t that what you’re here to tell me? Try and let me down easy when you tell me you’ve found some pirate asshole boyfriend and you’re shoving off with him at dawn?”

You were stunned. What the hell was he talking about? You had nothing of the sort. You spent 2 years training with a vicious crew of bandits. He thought you were on vacation and getting laid?

You scoffed. “You’re so fucking unbelievable.”

“I’M unbelievable? You’re the one abandoning m- us for some filthy low life bastard!”

“You’re delusional! Zoro you really think you were the only one who trained miserably hard for 2 years to try and make this crew better? You think I would sacrifice my loyalty to this crew for ANYONE? You think while you all broke your backs getting stronger, I was on a beach somewhere getting fucked? How DARE you accuse me of that. I thought I knew you, Roronoa Zoro, clearly I was wrong. I had no idea you were so fucking insecure. Get out of my room.”

Tears started welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill over. Zoro looked up at you. He really had fucked up this time. 

“Y/n wait-“

“Fuck you Zoro.” You huffed out while you pushed him hard out of your room and slammed the door. 

— Currently —

Zoro continuously beat his head into the wall he was leaning against, trying to ignore his feelings. “Fucking, stupid, idiot, moron…” he punctuated each with a slap against the wall. On the last one he felt something cradle his head…

“Seis fleur..” 

 Robin’s hands acted as a barrier between Zoro’s head and the wall. 

“ You know this won’t help anything, swordsman.” Robin’s silky voice told Zoro off. “You need to go back down there and tell her how you really feel.” Her body appeared behind the mast in front of him. Her eyes were serious. 

Zoro acted like he had no idea what she was talking about, but acting was never his strong suit. 

“Just go. I don’t have time to hold both of your hands through all of this. You need to figure it our yourselves.”

Zoro realized what Robin was implying. She had already said something to you, clearly. He nodded and turned to face the hallway that included your door. He stood at your doorway for a few moments and took his last deep breaths before he opened the door without asking. 

Upon barging in, he could see you sitting at the edge of your bed in a robe sobbing. You were crying over him. It broke his heart into one thousands minuscule pieces.. how could he let this happen?  You saw him enter your room and you stood up to shove him out again. 

Zoro immediately fell to his knees. He pressed his face into the wooden floor of your bedrooom. He laid his white handled sword on the ground in front of him The cherished blade that Kuina had left for him... his last hope to enjoy a happy life...

“Y/n… I am here to do nothing but apologize." Zoro spoke with his forehead touching the wooden floorboards of your bedroom. “You have shown me nothing but grace and mercy, far more than I deserve. You are the light at the end of my tunnel. You are the song of the sea against my hard-worn ship. I have thought of nothing but you over these two years. I simply love you so much that my largest fear is that you find someone else. I’m so sorry. I am immature and insecure, you were right. The thought of anyone taking you away from me again…” Zoro wracked a violent sob… unlike anything you’ve ever hear from him… “I just… I love you…”

He was knelt, sobbing uncontrollably at your feet. Your heart was the fullest it had ever been. He had never shown anything like this as long as you've known him. You looked at his pathetic form around your legs. 

“Rise, Swordsman.” you firmly order.

Zoro took a few moments but eventually he raised his head and his body  to meet your gaze.

“Roronoa Zoro… my heart…” your gripped his jaw in your hand. “… has always belonged to you…”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You felt the same way? This whole time? He had spent 2 years being insecure for no reason?

You grabbed his face and kissed him with fervor. He grabbed your torso and flipped you over onto your back. Zoro exhaled deeply and kissed down the side of your neck to the sides of your breast. His hands experimentally squeezed and kissed at your nipples as you sighed and squeaked under his touch. 

“Zoro I-“ You tried to get more out but he cut you off.

“Y/n let me make you mine forever, please.” 

“Oh- okay…” your were apprehensive at first but his hands felt like a warm, comforting hug every time he slid them up and down the sides of your torso. 

"Y/n.. I promise to make you feel good..."

"Zoro yes.. I trust you..."

He heard your affirmation and dove into your body like a man starved. He sloppily kissed and sucked at your nipples before he tore your panties off in one piece with his massively strong hand. You writhed underneath his touch as he slowly stroked his thumbs on the sides of your clit. 

“Zoro please.. it’s been so long…” You begged for him. Your pussy was so wet and aching that even oblivious Zoro could tell you needed help.

He heard you begging for him and instinctively latched his lips onto your clit. He saw it throbbing, he needed to relieve it. You gasped loudly as he brings you to the precipice of pleasure. “Oh my god? Zoro I can’t! It’s incredible, please!” You could hardly believe that this man of few words was bringing you such intense sexual pleasure.. He was sucking and touching your sex at just the right pace that had you gasping and gasping under his hands and mouth. 

“Zoro I promise I’m right there just a bit more PLEASE…” He heard your promise to him. His brain short circuited. All Zoro could think of was promising to make you cum. He craved the feeling of making you cum, he needed to know he was the man making you scream out in pleasure. 

“Please sweetheart, cum on my face for me?” He was a man of few words, but these were the ones that finally sent you over the edge. You screamed and folded your body into yourself as you came against his lips. After a few moments, you tried to catch your breath. 

“Zoro my love…” You choked out as you backed up and flopped against his chest. 

“My sweet love, please let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

You looked up at him hovering above you. He had one eye. You wondered why. It wasn’t right to ask right now. What happened to your tender swordsman over the past 2 years? He hadn’t mentioned his injuries. You hadn’t mentioned the massive scar over your left knee. Tonight wasn’t the night. Tonight was the night he proved to you he was the only man for you. 

“okay…”

Zoro slipped off the rest of his clothes and resumed his position on top of you. He lined his cock up with your soaking entrance when he made eye contact. 

“tell me this is okay…”

You gazed up at him. His always serious eyes... eye... god, fuck who took it from him? Mihawk? The government? He stared right into your soul but you still had so much worry for him..

“Zoro… please… I need you inside of me now…” Zoro heard your plea and slowly pushed his fat cock head inside of your drenched pussy. You moaned out loud, finally feeling your swordsman inside of you. It was a few brief, strained moments before his cock was fully seated inside of you. He tried his hardest to not make a sound but as soon as he bottomed out he released a long, drawn out sigh. 

Zoro pulled his fat cock out of you at a painful pace, pushing it back in again. You eyes were slammed shut underneath him. “Baby please… I need more…” You whined, wanting more.

For the second time tonight he was told he was being too gentle. It was more than enough for him. Zoro grabbed your hips and spread them farther than he ever needed. His insecurity addled brain needed you to confirm his feelings before he could ever achieve release. 

“You are mine. Tell me you are mine.”

“Roronoa Zoro…” You stopped bucking your hips in need, You grabbed his face with your right hand, ignoring the sparce and short hunter-green facial hair that grew on his chin. “I want every part of you. I want to belong to you. You’re my everything, love.”

Zoro lost it. He grabbed your hips and slammed them into his with reckless abandon. 

“Zoro yes, more! It’s so good, just like that!” He was so fueled by your praise that he slammed into you like a jackhammer.  He made no moans, just heavy grunts and sighs, just like you imagined he would.

“Oh my god honey yes, please just exactly like that! A little bit more!” You were shrieking on his cock at this point, drool forming at the corners of your mouth, just chasing your high. Finally your orgasm ran through your body and you wracked your tremors on Zoro’s cock. 

“FUCK-“ you squeezed Zoro so hard with your gorgeous pussy that he pulled out too late and painted your clit and hole with his white slop. 

He collapsed on top of you, never experiencing such a powerful orgasm in his life, nuzzling his nose into the valley of your full breasts. 

“Tomorrow… love.. love you…”

And just light that, Zoro was asleep…

You laughed��

“Some things never change…” 

[withlove-xixi]

— LACE LATTICE LULLABY: spike spiegel x reader

KINKTOBER DAY TEN: LINGERIE ᥫ cw: nsfw, lingere, blood/injury mention ᥫ wc: 1019 ★ never posting for this guy again ever because i hate him i hate him he is my arch nemesis and i want him dead (he is my all time favorite husband wawa he makes me light headed and gives me a stomach ache and i hate him) cross posted on ao3 — MINORS DNI! —

— YOU WERE JUST FULL OF SURPRISES WEREN’T YOU?

[♡]: spike hates surprises. what? half the time they were stressful, more than anything. they ruined his good mood and only ever made his bad moods worse. and you? you were full of surprises. honestly, the way you’ve wound spike so tightly around your finger is surprise enough. hell, if anything, it’s the most surprising thing you’ve done! but every now and then, you try to outdo yourself, whether you know it or not.

GOD, TODAY WAS SHIT.

It had started off shit, from the moment he woke up and slipped on some unfolded dirty laundry and hit his head against the ground to the moment Ein jumped on his lap causing him to spill hot coffee all over himself. Faye made sure to remind him of the incidents throughout their day together chasing after a decent bounty, making sure to rub into his face how today was just not his day. Especially when he had nearly crashed the Swordfish II into a building after failing to maneuver away from a flock of birds or when a car had hit him when they had chased the bounty on foot or when a door had suddenly flung open and whacked him directly in the face. At least someone was having a good time.

And after all that trouble, they had lost the bounty. One of Spike’s many misfortunes had caused them to get too far ahead for them to chase and hide within a crowded marketplace. And despite going through almost half the trouble, Faye was still gleefully giggling about everything, going as far as calling Spike on their comms to tease him about it, because as much as her day was bad, Spike was definitely having a far worse one. Needless to say, the flight back home to the Bebop was excruciatingly torturous.

Every bone in Spike’s exhausted body screamed and pleaded for rest, begged to lay on his old mattress and sleep for the next two days. His muscles ached and his wounds seared in pain at every moment, every step that took him closer to his room. Though his room was in a sorry state (perhaps in an even worse one than Spike was), it was far more favorable to sleep away his aches than to be awake even a second longer to feel every ounce of pain that surged through his body.

He was grateful at least that Jet hadn’t found out yet that he and Faye had lost the bounty, otherwise he’d be getting an hour-long earful of a lecture on how little funds they had left and how much they needed if they wanted to have a decent next meal. And at least Ed and Ein didn’t crowd on him too much for stories or souvenirs or other such antics, though he was half-certain the pissed off look on his face was enough to care the two away for even a couple of hours. Because really, at the end of a terribly shitty day, all Spike wanted to do was sleep or drink his troubles away. And the Bebop had recently run out of its supply of alcohol (he knows because he was the one to have depleted it), sleep was the best option. He could get some decent shut-eye before he had to get up for a disappointing dinner and to be patched up for his wounds.

With a groan he slides open the door to his room, a brief moment of relief washing over him when he’s met with the familiar sight of a messy, dimly lit, cramped bedroom. Briefly because as soon as he swings the door open, he’s punted in the face with something forceful and soft. Spike lets the pillow thud onto the ground, his body going rigid partly because he was so desperately trying to keep his cool and because, again, several times today he had been hit in the face, he’s pretty sure his nose was somewhat broken and he’s certain that a pillow to the face was only going to make the pain sting a bit longer.

You fail to notice the tired expression on his face or the dried up blood or his tattered clothes when you sit up on his bed and begin lecturing him, and honestly, he’s a bit too tired to register what you’re saying. Something, something, what took you so long, something, something, it was freezing. He only sighs deeply as you get up, he assumes to supposedly jut your nagging finger at his chest, but he watches as you suddenly freeze and your expression changes almost instantaneously.

Suddenly you’re nearly crying, hurriedly and panickedly yelling apologies and gingerly running your hands over his wounds. “What the hell happened to you?” You cry out, your frustrated tone long shifted into one of pure worry and concern. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. I didn’t know— I-I didn’t mean to yell at you—”

He lets you run your mouthful of apologies, sighing through his nose as his hands find purchase in your hips. Spike was meant to rub circles onto your skin, a way to calm you down and soothe himself of his worries, but his hands feel something unfamiliar, the tips of his fingers brushing against something soft and thin. He spares a perplexed glance down at you as you’re rambling away on how you were going to patch him up as soon as possible, and his eyes widen almost instinctively at what you’re wearing.

It’s some thin thing that barely covers your body, a pretty, little, lacey black number that graces your skin so beautifully Spike’s body instantly tenses at the sight, which only causes you to panic really because suddenly he’s stiff as a board. His mouth hangs ajar, saliva pooling inside it and threatening to drip down the corners of his lips.

“Sp-spike? What’s wrong? Does something hurt? Are you—”

Words die in your throat when you feel his fingers play at the hem of your lingerie, boldly tracing against the patterns of the lace with an almost feather-light touch. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers slowly dip beneath the fabric, wedging them snugly against the garter and your flesh. He leans down, against your ear and he can’t even form the words to speak to you so he pants heavily into the shell of your ear. Spike’s quickly rewarded with a soft whimper from your lips.

“Spike…” Your voice is like heaven, so needy and quiet like it were something sacred.

Today was worth all the trouble.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Transcending Time || CL16

Charles Leclerc x princess!reader Summary: Destined to be together, you and Charles’ love transcends time to find one another again and finally get the future you never had - the one with a happy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, death (see Trigger Warning in hashtags), angst, fluff. WC: 3.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three

Monaco, 1662 “One day, princess, we will board a ship and find a place of our own somewhere far away,” Charles promised as he watched the sails on the horizon, his chin resting on your shoulder as you sat between his legs. In his arms was the one place you could be yourself, not the royal that was put on parade to the public. In his arms you could dream of a world where you could love him freely.

But for now you had to hide, keeping your rendezvous a secret and stealing the moments whenever you could.

You had fallen for Charles the moment you saw him stumbling with his arms full of ledgers, the papers catching the breeze that had rolled into the mariner and raining down on your head as you giggled. He hadn’t even looked up before insulting you for your rudeness and suggesting you get down on the ground and help him retrieve his father’s work as penance.

Your next laugh was hardly the ladylike sound expected of you and when he looked up his green eyes had widened in realisation.

“My apologies, princess, please forgive me,” he had pleaded as he bowed his head muttering, “I am stupid. I am stupid.”

“Blaireau?” you repeated the word he had used and his cheeks reddened. “You called me a badger?”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously and gave the smallest shake of his head. “Not quite, princess.”

That was the first of many insults he taught you since slang was not something your governess had approved of in your schooling. He had taught you a good deal about life outside the palace, but his greatest lesson had been how to love. Love had been foreign from your life until he had stumbled into it and stolen your heart, giving you his in return.

Charles kissed your shoulder and a smile teased your lips and you leaned back into his embrace. “Would life as a clerk’s wife suffice her royal highness?”

“You could shovel manure from the stables for all I care, so long as I am your wife,” you said as you turned in his arms and pushed him onto his back. “Where you go, I go.”

He looked up at you bathed in the warm afternoon sun and adoration filled the smile he saved just for you, the one that brought out the dimples in his cheeks. “One day, princess.”

“Please, mama, I have never once asked you for anything,” you begged as you grabbed her hand over the table, but the former Crown Princess of Monaco looked away with a shake of her head and slipped her hand  from your grasp. Desperation grew as you looked to your brother, the Crown Prince of Monaco since your father passed earlier that year, sitting at the head seat. “Louis, don’t do this, please, I love him.”

“That is why I must, dear sister,” Louis uttered as he took a sip of his wine and returned to cutting his roast quail. “You were born to marry a prince, not the son of a clerk.”

You slammed your hands on the table as you rose to your feet. “I was born to love Charles, and I will die loving him too.”

Louis growled and his cutlery clattered as he tossed them on his plate, his short temper snapping. “Charles will hang on the morrow and that is final. There will be no more traipsing to the marketplace, there will be no more fraternising with those filthy commoners you are so fond of, or you will meet the same fate.”

Your chest puffed with the deep breath you took and when you exhaled a sense of calm settled in your soul. With quiet conviction you looked Louis in the eyes, and he frowned as he saw the fight leave your eyes. “I already have.”

You left the dining hall in a trance, your feet carrying you down the staircase and out of the front doors that the footmen opened at your approach. 

Heads turned as you left the palace alone, a princess did not leave unaccompanied. Ladies stared as you grabbed the layers of skirts and lifted them off the dirty streets, a princess did not show her stockings. People gasped in shock as you shook your tiara from your head and broke into a run, never looking back. 

His figure was hidden in the shadows as he lay on the rotten hay that had been dumped in the corner. The dank scents of the prison curdled the contents of your stomach and you pressed your wrist to your nose, inhaling the delicate perfume that had been dabbed there as you had been dressed for the disastrous dinner. 

“Charles.”

His spine stiffened at the soft sound of your voice before he rolled over and sat up slowly. The moonlight filtering in through the small window illuminated the bruises that turned his sun kissed skin purple and sealed one eye shut completely.

“Princess,” he whispered in reverence as he surged forward, only to be thrown to the stone floor when the chain cuffed to his ankle snapped taut from where it was anchored to the wall. 

“Charles!” You reached through the metal bars but your fingers could only brush his. “I’m here. Where you go, I go.”

He shook his head as he pulled himself up and stretched his leg so he could be as close as possible to you. “Not this time, my love.”

“Yes, dammit, every time!” you exclaimed as you pressed your head to the cold iron bars and choked on the sob that escaped. “I’ll not live in a world without you in it, Charles.”

“You have to.” His voice was hoarse from days without water and you wished you had thought to bring him some. “I’ll never find peace otherwise. I have to know you lived, and that you found happiness again, I know you can do it.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t. You make me happy, Charles, only you.” You pulled yourself back to your feet and called to the guard stationed at the end of the hall. “Open the gate.”

“He’s been imprisoned at your brother’s order, your highness, I can’t let him go.”

You grabbed the ring of keys hanging from his hip and thrust it against his chest. “Louis est un blaireau. Lock me inside.”

The guard blanched as you used the commoners tongue to call the Crown Prince an asshole before quickly recovering and unlocking the gate. “Let me know when you are ready to leave, your highness.” The metal gate grated sharply as it closed behind you, the keys jangling when he turned them and locked you inside. 

You would never be ready.

A chill unlike any you had felt before seeped into your bones as you sat between Charles’ legs, his arms trying to share the only warmth he had to offer as they held you tight. There were no hot coals to warm the air or any comforts you were used to in the palace but you wouldn’t have traded them if it meant leaving his embrace. 

You couldn’t even hazard a guess as to how far it was to dawn, but the light of the moon had faded as it passed the window and darkness shrouded the room. 

Charles’ breathing was laboured in your ear and you silently cursed your brother for the beating he had ordered. All he had ever done was love you and for that he would pay the ultimate price, because you were a princess. 

“My governess took me to the theatre once,” you murmured quietly. The gift had been a farewell present when you came of age and her services were no longer required, it had been mere weeks before you met Charles. “I cannot even remember the name of the play now but it was a lovers' tragedy, forbidden from seeing each other. I laughed at the preposterous idea that two people would rather die than live without the other.” 

You laughed bitterly at the memory of your younger self and the naivety the sheltered girl had held before sighing. “If I were low born, how things would be different.”

“If I were a prince, how things would be different,” Charles chuckled in your ear. “But we are not, my love. Perhaps in another life we will find one another again and have the time we are owed.”

Watery light crept along the walls as dawn broke the horizon. “I’ll hold that thought in my heart.”

An escort of guards arrived not long after sunrise and you turned to Charles, memorising the sharp line of his jaw and how it was shaped to fit your hands. You combed his dark hair back from his face and pressed your forehead to his as you promised you would be with him to the end. 

“Yes, Charles,” you growled as he shook his head. “My mind is made up and nothing can change it.” You took his hand and placed it over your heart. “This only beats for you.”

His tears mixed with yours as he pulled you close one last time and surrendered himself to the fate your kiss had brought. “I love you, princess,” he whispered against your lips and a soft shudder rocked your body as you feared regret would lace those words but there was only warmth in his tone. “That will never change, I swear on my life.”

The guards had pulled you apart and dragged Charles away, using their bodies as a wall to keep you from following. “Prince Louis has forbidden your presence in the square.”

Forbidden, there was that word again. 

“Then I shall take my leave.” You turned your back and made your way to the stairs in the opposite direction, the guards remaining in position in case you should return. Up and up, higher and higher you climbed the worn steps, ignoring the shouts of the prisoners you passed along the way. 

Your lungs burned when you finally reached the top and stepped out into the fresh air, the salt of the seabreeze erasing the damp scent that clung to everything inside. Far below you could see your brother sitting upon a stage opposite the gallows, a look of boredom on his face until the guards appeared with Charles between them. 

“For crimes against the Crown, Charles, Notary at Hervé & Sons…”

The wind stole the heralder’s words away as he condemned Charles for falling in love, information that would die with him at your brother's behest. No one could ever know that a commoner bedded a princess and that the crime against the crown they spoke of was actually holy matrimony. 

The air left your lungs as the thick rope noose was thrown over Charles’ head and you took a step forward, your bare feet no longer feeling the cold stones as your toes hung over the precipice of the prison. 

Charles looked around for you as the hangman reached for the trapdoor release and he spotted you as the sun crested the horizon and warmed your back in its glow. 

“Where you go, I go,” you promised. 

Just like you had the first day you met him, you fell.

Monaco, 2023 “She’s zoned out again,” Louis sighed as he snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hello? The drivers will be here any moment so you need to focus.”

For as long as you could remember you had these episodes, entire days were wasted away as you sat on the bay window of your room overlooking the mariner. It was like you were a prisoner in your own mind, lost and wandering in search of something you couldn’t find. 

“Why must I be here?” you asked as you pushed your brother’s hand away from your face. “You watch the sport, not me.”

“It is tradition, dear sister,” he muttered as he fixed his tie. “There have always been two of us to welcome them to our beautiful home and with father no longer here that responsibility falls on you. So smile for the cameras, and whatever you do, don’t zone out.”

The doors to the palace opened and the 20 guests filed in pairs but movement at your side drew your attention away. Louis had bounced on the balls of his feet and you rolled your eyes at his excitement.

“Mother will be displeased,” you tutted under your breath. “The crown prince does not get excited, the crown prince is composed at all times.”

“This isn’t the dark ages,” he shot back before peering out the corner of his eyes. “You sound just like her.”

“Asshole, I do not!” Your elbow took a shot at his ribs but he just managed to deflect it away with his arm and a cocky snicker. “You’re going to pay for saying that.”

A warm laugh filled the air and your heart skipped a beat, the sense of familiarity stealing your focus from Louis. You found yourself watching the water once more through the open door, the ships sailing by on the breeze and longing tugged at you to follow.

“This here is our very own Monégasque, he’s even garnered the title of the People’s Prince of Monaco.”

Only one word caught your attention and you broke away from the sight outside to see who it was Louis was introducing you to. “Prince?”

“People’s Prince,” Louis clarified with a chuckle. “Charles Leclerc.”

“Leclerc? That is an old family name,” you murmured as it tugged at the recesses of your memory but you couldn’t remember why. You peered up at the man to find two striking green eyes staring back from a handsome face. “Has your family always been in Monaco?”

“Yes, as far as I know, princess,” he said politely as he gave a little bow. “How about you?” A laugh trickled down the line behind him and his cheeks burned red as he muttered, “I am stupid. I am stupid.”

“As far as I know, prince,” you teased gently. 

“Shall I call a doctor?” Louis whispered as the Monegasque moved on and a Frenchman replaced him. “That was an actual smile.”

“Shut up, before you need to call one to fix your nose,” you shot back with a scowl.

“There she is,” he chuckled. “All is right in the world once more.”

“I’m done here.” The dress was suddenly too restricting and you stepped back from the man whose name you hadn’t caught, slipping away from the arm Louis tried to loop through yours to hold you still. 

You heard Louis’ sigh as you disappeared behind the pillars and knew you would be due a lecture when they left. “Excuse her, she doesn’t do well with engagements.”

They nodded understandably and one commented that it must have been why you were rarely seen in public. No one would know it was because of the episodes or how they couldn’t trust your behaviour in front of the cameras. You were too erratic and unpredictable. One moment you could be the perfect princess your mother had hoped for and the next you felt like the world deserved to burn and you were ready to light it up.

Try as your mother might, she had yet to find anyone who could fix you. From psychiatrists to hypnotists, she had hired them all but no amount of medication and therapy had helped.

The moment you were free of the room you kicked off your heels and grabbed the skirt of your dress before breaking into a run. There was something freeing about going fast and it helped to draw air into your lungs when you felt as if you were slowly suffocating.

You lost yourself to the endless halls that navigated the enormous palace, direction not mattering as you let the fates decide where you ended up. You didn’t even notice that your feet had brought you in a full circle back towards the front entrance until the door to mens bathroom opened and someone stepped out, his head down as he focused on sliding a ring onto his finger.

You were on a collision course and dropped the material of your skirt from your hands to try catch yourself but all you did was get your feet tangled before crashing into him. You both went tumbling to the polished floor and a hiss of pain erupted as your ankle twisted at an odd angle.

“Son of a bitch,” you groaned and the man sat up with a pat of his body to check he was in one piece before he looked at you and those green eyes widened.

“Princess? What…oh my god! Are you alright?” Charles scrambled across the space and carefully lifted your foot off the floor, the movement making your face pinch in pain.

“Ow, I think it’s broken.”

“I don’t think it’s broken, but it might be sore for a few days.” He looked up and down the empty hall. “Should I go get help?”

“No, no doctors. Just help me to stand up, please,” you asked as you placed your hands on his shoulders and his hands fell to your waist, the warmth of his palms reaching your skin through the material.

“What were you running from?”

“Life?” You looked down the long hall lined with portraits of your ancestors, their beady eyes staring back with judgement. “It’s so slow here, I just need to go fast sometimes, or I’ll go crazy. That probably sounds stupid.”

“No,” he chuckled as he shook his head. “That makes sense to me. Can you try walking on it?”

“Fuck,” you grunted as you put weight on the joint. “No, not really.” You nearly fell again as you tried to balance on one foot but Charles’ hands stabilised you before that happened.

“Okay, uh, I’m not going to get the guillotine for touching you, right, princess?” he joked nervously as he curled his arm around your waist and took most of your weight.

You smiled weakly as his words started an ache in your chest you couldn’t explain. “Not this century at least.”

“That’s good to know,” he said with a flirty grin and suddenly the pain was gone. “Come to think of it, if you want to go fast I could take you for a lap of the circuit. It’s got to be safer than these dangerous halls.”

“So hazardous, it’s a miracle I survived this long.” You giggled at the thought, the sound absolutely foreign to your own ears, and once you started you couldn’t stop.

His lips parted with a wide smile as he listened to your laugh and he nodded to himself. “It’s settled then, princess.”

You rolled your eyes at the title you had never wanted but somehow on his lips it sounded sweet. “I do have a name, prince.”

“I know,” he winked. “Come on, princess.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice, do I?” You looked at your injured foot hovering safely off the ground. “Where you go, I go.”

Click here for part two.

[yoredoesmore]

Until Fate Reunites us - An Unexpected Storm | Cyno

pairing: Cyno x Reader

summary: Two young children who both share different fates meet. They are connected by a bond that surpasses even the universe, but the worlds they were born into divide them. Will their paths cross again or will their first encounter be their last?

cw: fight scenes, the story takes place in cyno's and y/n's childhood, mentioning of child abuse, kidnapping

genre: angst, action, eventual romance, [wc: 2,7k]

a/n: this story was written long before more parts of cyno's backstory were released, so none of this is canon

enjoy!

The burning summer heat fell onto the world, penetrating not just the climate but also one's mind. It was safe to say that this was by far one of the hottest days of the year in Sumeru, yet you didn't seem to mind. With a smile on your face, you walked over the sandy surface, carefree and full of joy. Today was a day of celebration, one you were destined to remember forever– today, you were going to create your very own family.

Years of loneliness and desperation were finally coming to an end, you could feel it in your heart.

Now, one would ask themselves how a little child like you was going to achieve such goal but you were ready to surprise them all. Months have gone into the making of your plan and nothing and no one was going to stop you from pursuing it. So as you sneaked past the gates of Caravan Ribat, you held your eyes out for your new family members.

"Look at this.." You said in awe while making your way through the bustling streets of the marketplace. You were no stranger to crowded places and commotion, despite being born in the middle of the desert. When the rations got thin and the nights too dangerous, you would often come here and borrow one or two items from the stalls or seek shelter behind one of the buildings. It was safe to say that you were at least familiar enough with the place to know where to search first.

But even though you fit right in with the people, you still had to be cautious. This place was just booming with guards and thieves, a dangerous mixture for an outsider and little kid like you. But you still did a pretty good job at mixing in with the locals. Hardly anybody took notice of your existence and even those who did, did not bother themselves longer than two seconds with your presence. After making it through the entire street, you finally arrived at your first destination.

Right under a structure or bridge, you weren't entirely sure what it was, they sat. Children like you, but a tad bit older. Despite their young appearance, nobody dared to walk past or even look at them. These teenagers were known for causing trouble after all. Yet you didn't even hesitate to approach them with a bright smile.

"Good afternoon." You said, holding out your hand. "My name is Y/n, and I would like for you guys to join my family!"

A long silence followed your words which was followed by an awkward cough. The teenagers exchanged confused looks with one another before one of them decided to speak up.

"Are you lost, kid..?" The tallest asked.

"I was but I am not anymore. I am here to recruit you guys to join my family!"

"Join...your family? I'm sorry kid but we have no interest in playing house with you. Why don't you ask mommy and daddy to get you some toys to play with them instead?"

"Don't be rude, Galehunter, the kid is just lost." A brown haired girl came to your defense. The blonde girl simply rolled her eyes and nodded her head towards your direction, acting as if you weren't right in front of them.

"Listen kid. I don't know where your parents are but you should go back and find them. You don't know us so stop saying these weird things. We could easily cut you open and sell your body parts, distribute your organs on the black market and much more. Return now and let us be."

The five teens patiently waited for you to run off in fear, show some signs that their presence was intimidating you but you remained stuck in place. Your stubbornness must have gotten on their nerves, because one of them suddenly revealed a dagger to you. The shiny object absorbed the sunlight, making it look like some expensive jewelry. The boy swung the weapon in front of your eyes but you didn't move one inch.

"This kid is crazy.." The boy with the dagger said, returning the weapon to its previous spot.

"They call you Stone Enchanter, right?" You asked the boy.

"I would like you guys to call me Frostbite. I may be young but I am the leader of a gang that is in desperate need of new members..or members in general. You and I are quite similar, forgotten kids who roam the sand and fight for their survival. We were abandoned by this world, by our archon and by the people and now seek vengeance. Follow me, thrust me and become one of the most feared soldiers the world has ever seen."

"And why should we?" Galehunter suddenly asked while approaching you.

"Why should we put our trust in the hands of a child? We don't know if you're capable of leading a group. Being from the streets means nothing if you can't play by its rules." The girl looked down at you with daring eyes, eyes which you adored but also saw as a provocation.

You knew that things wouldn't go as smoothly as you wanted them to, that is why you came prepared. You still believed that today was a date which would be engraved into the stars and you were going to do everything to make that happen.

"How can I prove myself?"

Galehunter thought for a while before her eyes suddenly lit up. She grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you around and pointed at a young boy. The child was walking hand in hand with who you assumed were his parents. An uneasy feeling started to erupt in your body as you waited for her answer.

"You see that happy family over there? The father looks like he makes good money judging from the clothes they're wearing..I'm sure he wouldn't mind a few missing Mora."

"That's it? I just have to steal some Mora?" You found the request amusing at first, a challenge easily done, but when you noticed all the guards that started to surround them, your smile quickly dropped. Their expensive attire obviously didn't go unnoticed by your eyes but to think that they were that important people, here in the middle of the desert? The task immediately shifted up on the difficulty scale.

"Today history will be written. The birth of a new organization, one that will make it all the way to the stars. We shall celebrate that birth with a big feast, which I of course will pay for."

The teens just nodded their heads and laughed, none of them taking you serious. They were doubting your skills and intelligence but that was only to be expected. None of them could ever have fathomed the strength that laid within your grasp..

✎ᝰ

Time passed, yet the sun still burned down on Teyvat like an ungodly fire. For the past thirty minutes you have tried your best to keep up with the family– which went quite successful most of the time. They were an easy target despite the crowded place and not to mention the unusual hair color of their son that made them stick out more than a sore thumb. By listening in during some of their conversations, you managed to find out that they were from Sumeru City and came here for some business affairs. They were indeed a family but to your surprise they weren't as rich as you thought they were.

The man was part of the Matra, a group of self proclaimed heroes of the Akademiya and his wife was a professor. They gave off a rather friendly aura but that of course didn't stop you from following through with your plan. You cautiously watched them enter the Gilded Journey, a famous resting place for all types of travelers but also quite the dangerous place for the average person. But given the man's occupation, he would have no troubles defending his people.

While watching them, you constantly tried to find an opening, a moment of distraction, but your search was in vain. If they weren't surrounded by guards and mercenaries, they would be in an too unideal position to attack from.

The only opening there was, was the son. His curious eyes gazed into all kinds of directions as they walked through the bustling marketplace. He was your best chance– and most likely even your only. Unsure of how to draw his attention towards you, you waited and waited, for the perfect opportunity to find you and indeed after a couple more minutes an idea popped into your head.

You waited a few more moments for one of the merchants to pull the parents into one of their exaggerated stories before you approached the kid.

"Did they sell out yet??" You asked him in a worried tone.

"The..what?" He replied in a rather confused voice.

"The nuts of course! Did they sell out yet?" Concern reflected in the boy's eyes as you continued to confuse him. He had absolutely no idea what you were talking about yet he couldn't help himself but become curious.

"What nuts are you talking about?" You carefully took a peek at his parents, who were still chatting with the merchant. You then pointed at a man who was standing in the far distance.

"His name is Hawad and he sells the most delicious Candid Ajilenakh Nuts! they're a delicacy here and are mostly known for their sweetness. They sell out really fast and I wanted to know if he still had some left. Every child loves them, so I thought that maybe you have gotten some already but..seems like you don't.."

This was the moment of truth. The boy's eyes still reeked of confusion and conflict yet the small sparks of curiosity didn't go unnoticed by you. Your heart stopped for a second when he turned around to talk to his mother but when he asked her for some Mora a big smile found its way on your face.

"Yes mother, I will be back shortly. Do not worry, the vendor is right over there." And with that said the boy ran off and you followed him. Your eyes were dead focused on the bag. He had told the woman that he was just going to buy some of the books he saw at the other stall, what a clever child. Based on that, you figured that someone as posh as him wasn't allowed to snack on such unhealthy delicates.

"What's your name?" The boy suddenly asked.

"I'm Y/n, what about you?"

"I'm Cyno!"

"Nice to meet you, Cyno." The two of you exchanged smiles before you continued to focus on the task at hand. You were only a couple minutes away from the merchant, you could already smell the sweet aroma of the nuts. You weren't lying when you said that the Ajilenakh Nuts were beloved by the people of the desert. They were sugary and nice to chew on, the perfect snack when craving something sweet and you loved them.

Your heart bloomed with each step you took forward. Cyno walked ahead of you and was equally excited, but the both of you for different reasons.

Stretching out your hands, you prepared yourself to snatch the bag out of his grip, but all of a sudden an eerie atmosphere filled the air. All the exhilaration had clouded your mind, making you forget about your surroundings. You had let your guard down and that led to a group of strangers suddenly approaching you.

"Look at that.." One of them said with a mischievous smile on his face. "We got ourselves some lost kids."

"Who appear to be in desperate need of help from some capable adults."

Cyno's smile immediately faded upon noticing their dangerous nature. He shifted closer to you but not to hide himself but rather to shield you with his own body.

"We are in no need of help." He said in a serious tone. "Just on our way back to our parents."

"Well, then why don't we guide you back?" One of the men suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and started pushing you towards the exit of the market. You were about to yell out to get the public's attention when one of them pulled out a dagger and held it against the boy's back. It was perfectly concealed, for only your eyes to see.

"Let's bot bother anyone else, shall we?" A woman, the leader of the group you assumed, gave you a soft smile.

"Let's move to a more quiet place, shall we?.."

Your gaze moved over to Cyno, who's face was filled with horror and concern. All you were able to do was comply and follow the group off the market ground..

✎ᝰ

The sun was starting to set and with the setting of the sun , the radiant heat drastically decreased as well.

There you were, in the middle of the desert, surrounded by criminals. The group of gangsters had taken you to an abandoned camp that wasn't too far away from Caravan Ribit you believed but not exactly close either.

Neither you or Cyno had said a word throughout the entire journey, too scared to piss one of them off. Turning your gaze around towards the boy, you tried to make out the state he was currently in but his eyes were completely empty.

"Why did you take us all the way out here? If you had wanted our Mora, you simply would have taken it."

"We got ourselves a little thinker over here." The woman said, slowly approaching you.

"Times are getting rather rough out here, little one, I'm sure you heard mommy and daddy talk about it as well. The prices of basic goods are rapidly increasing day by day and simple commissions aren't enough to get us by anymore."

"So you kidnapped us in hopes that our parents would pay you guys a fine price?" Cyno suddenly joined the conversation.

"Impressive. Looks like we caught a bundle of little researchers." The woman's voice was filled with sarcasm, which earned her soft chuckles from her comrades.

Cyno just rolled his eyes at their remarks but remained silent. The situation had spiraled out of control and you were starting to get really worried. If you had been on your own, these eremites would have been taken care of in no time but the boy's presence was a great limitation to your options. You didn't want him to be confronted with any graphic scenes but you knew that you had to do something about this mess of a situation at some point.

"I must disappoint you then, I'm an orphan." You said with a smug smile on your face. Both the adults and the boy turned around to look at you.

"Then you have no worth to us.." A deep voice came forth. A tall figure raised itself into the air, pulling out a dagger from his pocket. Cyno's eyes widened in terror as he saw the sharp weapon being pointed at you but when he tried to scream out for them to stop, another individual placed their large hand over his lips, forcing him to watch in fear.

The eremite swung the dagger into the air but missed, as you moved quickly and dodged him at the last second.

A ball of your spit then hit the man right between the eyes, setting off the fury in him. But while he was cursing you, you freed yourself from the ropes they had tied your hands with together and threw yourself onto him with full force. The blade he held only seconds ago was now pointed at his own neck, but it never came in contact with his skin.

Yet he still screamed out in pain.

The Eremites around you froze up upon hearing their comrade's cries and watched the scene unfold.

"My eyes!" The man cried out, desperately pressing his hands over his face.

"That fucking brat froze my eyeballs!"

From there on, everything moved in slow motion. All remaining Eremites came charging at you but they fell as fast as they came. Your attacks were quick and unforeseeable. Like a snowstorm you swooped over them and froze their different body parts to the core. After only minutes they were all on the ground, knocked out cold or shivering uncontrollably.

The boy was beyond speechless. His mouth hung wide open as he watched you pat off the sand from your clothes as if what just happened was nothing. He didn't know what to say or how to react– if he should feel grateful or intimidated. He was frozen in place like the enemies on the ground and his eyes stayed stuck on the small item that had fallen out of your pocket and now dangled around in the cold desert wind.

Your Vision.

[freesia-writes]

Ch 21: Deceived

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.1k

If you’ve seen The Bourne Identity, this chapter is an attempt to channel those vibes.

. 

Hunter waited until the door clicked then abruptly sat up, mind racing with her mysterious words and the undeniable air of guilt hanging over her as she’d kissed his forehead. He pulled on his clothes at breakneck speed, tucking his weapons into their usual places and slipping into the hallway. Keeping a nonchalant pace, he headed for the stairs, peering down the middle of the spiraling steps to see how far ahead she was. But there was no sight of her.

Backtracking to their door, he found no exits, just other hotel rooms. He returned inside, throwing his few things into his bag and slinging it over his back. Some raised voices in the courtyard below caught his attention, and he rushed to the windows, peering down to see the source. 

His heart stopped. 

Imperial troopers were pushing through the crowd, heads swiveling back and forth on high alert as they appeared from all directions and converged upon the courtyard at the base of the hotel. He cracked the window slowly, just enough to be able to hear their words. 

“Standard ground op. Target is to be brought in alive. Let’s go.”

Hunter couldn’t believe it. Did Lyra know more about his past than she’d let on? Was this her doing? Where was she? And why had she apologized? He shook his head, clearing the thoughts and narrowing his focus to the well-worn habit of observation, assessment, and strategy. 

The troops fanned out when they reached the door of the hotel, some going around the sides and others taking up posts around the open area. Hunter scanned the nearby rooftops, empty as far as he could see, and went through every feature of the building he’d taken mental inventory of as they’d arrived. He secured his pack, ensuring his disguise was readily available, and narrowed his eyes.

It was time to move. 

He looked at Lyra’s suitcase, tempted to grab it but reeling with the implication of all that was occurring. 

She could get it herself, he decided, ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest and slipping into the air duct.

“Hostile engaged.”

Hunter squeezed some careless cover fire over his shoulder, spinning behind a wall.

“Headed north. All units converge.”

A leap between buildings, a roll upon landing. 

How could she have done this to him?

“Get us eyes in the sky. Hostile is utilizing the roofs.”

He sprinted across an open area, noting the trajectories of the troops below. 

Had it all been a lie?

“Cut him off at the marketplace.”

He sprang from balcony to balcony, sliding down the last part of the wall and ducking into an alleyway. 

There had to be some kind of misunderstanding. She really… She’d really seemed to…

“Don’t let him get to the bazaar.”

Forcing nonchalant body language as he bent over the barrels of a fruit stand, his breath was hot against his own face as he panted beneath his quickly-donned disguise. Two troops ran past, boots heavy as they matched the beating of his heart against his ribcage. He’d gone soft, he grumbled, purchasing a jogan fruit and strolling slowly through the densely-packed stalls of merchants. 

He should have known better. Known that he wasn’t made for that kind of life. 

“Sir, we’ve lost him.”

He would never make that mistake again.

* * * 

“Most of the Republic’s records are either revised with Imperial bias or heavily encrypted,” Tech’s voice crackled quietly over the comm. Hunter’s dark eyes glittered with intensity as he watched and listened to every movement on the shuttle. “However, I was able to find some curious information from some of the Coruscant news outlets. It is… well, to be frank, it is surprising, and not at all what one would expect considering what we have thus far seen in our dealings with–”

“Get to the point, Tech,” Hunter growled. 

“Lyra Vetana is wanted for being a traitor to the Republic. The Empire continues to seek justice for her offenses against the Office of the Chancellor and the political group by which she was employed.”

A wave of nausea ran from Hunter’s head to his feet, furthering his frustration at the news. He was a battle-hardened soldier. He’d been through virtually every torturous situation known to the galaxy. It had never affected him before. Yet now, he found it hard to think at all, much less with any semblance of clarity. 

“She was imprisoned after it was discovered that she was selling secrets to the Separatist Alliance,” Tech continued, evoking another shake of the head from Hunter. “An unknown source enabled her to escape not long after the Republic became the Empire, and she remains on the list of wanted individuals.”

“I don’t believe it…” Hunter muttered, flames of rage dancing around the deep ache in his chest. 

“It does seem a stark contrast from her character as we have yet observed it. Although it would seem that she has experience in leading a double life, which would explain her ability to deceive so easily.”

Deceive. He’d been deceived. Flashbacks of tender moments played in his mind without his permission; small moments of wonder and connection, warmth and vulnerability, all monstrous now in their complete and total lack of authenticity. He had to force his face back to neutrality, continuing his vigilant scan of the shuttle’s passenger area. Everyone seemed bored and content, and they were almost back to Xylo, but his pulse pounded in his ears as he grappled with the rollicking anxiety within.

“Her familial accomplice is also wanted by the Empire, but there is no evidence of any actual crimes on her–”

“Familial?” Hunter rubbed his forehead with a hand, clenching his jaw.

“I assume, due to the same last name. Breslin Vetana. Currently twenty-two years old. On the watch list due to conspiring with known enemies of the Republic and possessing information desired by the Empire.”

“She said it was a friend…” The muttered lament was unintentionally filled with enough pain and regret to evoke a response from Tech, low and garbled as the shuttle entered the planet’s atmosphere. 

“I am sorry, Hunter. It is painful when things are not as we believe.”

* * * 

“You’ve got to eat something,” Wrecker said quietly, pausing his own meal to regard his brother across the table. “It’s been weeks.”

“I will,” Hunter answered, idly pushing his food around as he hunched over his plate. Silence passed between them for a while, then Hunter straightened, dropping his fork with an air of agitation. “It’s just… We can’t just stay here and wait for them to find us.”

“We’ve got our plan, Hunter. Remember? We all know what to do. If the Empire does show up, they won’t find anything, and they’ll have no reason to come back.”

“All they have to do is ask around…”

“And we’ve got that covered too.” Wrecker’s voice was steady, his expression sincere as he took another bite of his own dinner. “It’ll be alright.”

Hunter sat back in his chair, rubbing his forehead before resting it in his palm. The last few weeks had passed in a blur. He’d filled his family in on all that had transpired, insisting that they all needed to pack up and leave because their location had been compromised. His urgency had been met with sympathy yet resistance; none of them were in a hurry to leave the lives they’d built over the last couple of years on Xylo, so they’d reached a compromise. At the first sign of any Imperial activity, they had a contingency plan, and while it hadn’t fully appeased Hunter’s fear, he’d been strongly outvoted and forced to settle.

So he’d gone hunting, finding it more difficult than usual as his focus shattered among a million thoughts. 

He’d made small talk with the locals, constantly analyzing every intonation and gesture for any hint of ill intent.

He’d appreciated Omega’s quiet consolation during her short visit between internships, insisting that she repeat the safety precautions to him over and over before seeing her off again. 

The sinking pit in his stomach had grown.

But he’d kept it to himself when he paid off the shuttle station attendant to let him know if anyone matching certain descriptions arrived on the island…

When he snuck into Lyra’s house to place some small devices in inconspicuous places…

When he’d investigated the nooks and crannies of her home and found a hollow panel in the wall that admitted him to a tiny back room, where he had sensed all of the metal and electronics, and discovered a variety of long-range transmitters and more weapons than any one person would ever need. 

The pit in his stomach threatened to engulf him whole.

Unbidden, memories would fill his mind at the most inopportune moments. The feeling of her body snug against his as they dozed on the couch, the stubborn insistence to inspect random bits of nature, the self-conscious chuckle at her own bad jokes. They were all cast in shadow, however, covered in the sickly pallor of betrayal. 

Tech had discovered some additional information one evening, prattling on while Hunter stared at the edge of the balcony, unresponsive and dejected. Family dinner was going on all around him, yet he still felt as though he were underwater somehow. 

“Did you hear me?” Tech interrupted his rumination. 

“No, sorry,” Hunter muttered, shifting his gaze to his brother where he sat beside them at the large wooden table. 

“I said that some internal bureau files noted that Lyra’s escape from jail involved outside assistance, and the last time she was seen was on a cargo transport with a wealth of firearms. For all of the expressed aversion to weapons and the notably mild disposition, this is quite a departure from Lyra’s nearly cowardly avoidance of conflict.”

Cowardly. That word rankled in Hunter’s mind too, though he didn’t know why. She was a coward for deceiving him for so long. Why hadn’t she just given him away immediately? When had she learned the truth? Decided to turn him in? And she didn’t even have the guts to be there when it happened, to look him in the eye when the Empire showed up to take him. 

“Still want to stick around?” Hunter finally spoke, gaze sharp as he stared at Tech’s impassive face. 

“I require more information or an actual, tangible threat to justify a complete uprooting of the lives we have established here.”

“Will Imperial Troops at the door be ‘justifying’ enough?” 

“Hunter,” Tech said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Plans are in place. Preparations and contingencies have been made.”

An uncharacteristically light touch to the shoulder caught Hunter’s attention, and he turned the opposite way to see Wrecker beside him, a soft yet confident expression on the large clone’s face. 

“We’ll be alright,” he reassured, resting his hand atop Hunter’s back. “We always find a way.”

Hunter sighed, head lowering between his shoulders. He sat still for a moment, then pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, scooping up his plate and utensils to take to the kitchen. 

“Poor guy,” Phee remarked quietly, watching him heading to the sink once inside the sliding glass door. 

“Think he’s right? That we should be worried?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head at her across the table. 

“I don’t know,” she confessed, casting a glance at Tech, whose thoughtful gaze was fixed on the door where Hunter had disappeared. “Something about it just doesn’t add up.”

“I’m surprised she put up with him as long as she did,” Crosshair remarked from the far side of the group. “I would have gotten my reward and been out of here.”

“Sure you would,” Echo said dismissively, clearly believing none of it as his brow furrowed in thought and he leaned on an elbow to see the others. “But why would she take him to Keytoll and do it there? Why not here, where she could get all of us at once?”

“Probably wanted to keep this a safe place to get away from it all?” Wrecker guessed.

“Yeah, but she hasn’t returned,” Echo pointed out. “And then why would she come back here when we’re all here? Any sleemo knows that’s not going to be a pleasant conversation.” 

“Well, let’s just take it one day at a time,” Phee said with an air of finality. “Things have a way of coming to the surface once the water stops rippling.”

Hours passed.

Days.

Weeks.

.

Song: Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

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[cyborg-franky]

Confessions

Thank you so much @whitewineandpizzapuffs for the support and the suuuuuper super fun prompt. I had fun with this big boy. I hope you enjoy <3

Ace x F!Reader SFW Ace Lives AU 5 + 1 trope WC: 4,400

He was a highly ranked commander on one of the strongest crews in the world but that didn’t stop Ace from being unable to handle his feelings. He was never one to express how he felt, other than anger and annoyance. Pushing everything else down deep to be ignored and to deny to himself and everyone else.

Despite being in such a position of power he still hid from her in Marco’s office when he knew she was on lunch break. Sitting across from the phoenix as he worked, watching as Marco’s quill danced across the paper the sound of the tip dragging along the parchment paper.

“Marco, your handwriting is terrible, how do you even read it?” Ace mumbled, staring over at the notes the other commander had been working on. Marco paused, sighed, and looked over his red frames at Ace.

“Shouldn’t you be doing something else? Like anything else?” Marco sat back in his seat and watched how Ace fidgeted in his seat, reaching over for a piece of paper to pull at, to fiddle with the edge before Marco shot him a look, Ace chuckled and dropped the paper.

“Yeah, I guess. I’m on break and I thought I’d keep my bestie company.” Ace batted his eyelashes which earned him a scrutinising gaze from Marco. “You mean your avoiding her because you have feelings and haven’t worked out how to cope with those yet yoi.” Marco watched Ace straighten up, how tense his shoulder became as he stumbled over his words.

Gotcha 

“Listen,” “I’m listening.” Ace folded his arms over his chest, Marco mimicking him with a growing smirk on his lips as Ace wrinkled his nose.

“I’m working on it.” 

Marco rolled his eyes, a chuckle as he shook his head, standing up from his desk and walking over to his filing cabinet as Ace sulked over his situation. “If you don’t find somewhere else to mope around I’ll tell her for you yoi.” Marco hummed, acting nonchalant as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the color drain from Ace’s freckled face.

“Don’t fuckin’ do that birdbrain!” He flapped his arms, waving them in a no fashion as Marco watched him. “Fine, I’ll work on it… I’ll confess to her!”

Famous last words Ace thought as he ran a hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

–

The first time he almost confessed to her was on a summer island, the pair walking through town. She brushed her hair back as she talked with one of the traders in the marketplace. Ace watched her with a dumb look on his face, the fondness clear as day on his face. He watched as she laughed, joking with the man selling her supplies.

He felt a little tinge of jealousy when the trader seemed to take the banter as an invite, offering her a deal because she was so pretty. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance as his jaw was set in a firm line, not impressed with the man trying to flirt with her.

Ace tried to convince himself that he was just looking out for his best friend, and that he was making sure no one hassled her. He told himself desperately it wasn’t anything to do with the growing feelings that bloomed in his chest, wrapping around his heart like ivy. Flowers of affection alive and well.

“Hey buddy, come on, don’t hassle her.” Ace stepped forward, he placed his hand on her lower back in a reassuring manner. The trader blinked and laughed at Ace’s bravado.

“Her boyfriend or something pal?” He laughed at Ace and that was one thing he wouldn’t tolerate, he hated to be mocked, to be laughed at, he grit his teeth as the hand not on her back balled into a fist.

Flames licked across his bare shoulders, and she couldn’t miss those sparks, knowing his temper was about to flare and there would be a bigger problem. “No, he’s not. Come on Ace, he’s just being friendly.” She replied and turned to look at him, he tried not to feel the stab in his heart at her words, the dismissive nature of her reply.

He needed to calm down before he set this asshole's cart on fire. He bit the inside of his cheek as the trader carried on flirting with her, his hand on her shoulder, suggesting she come inside his shop to have an adult conversation. 

“Come on, this guy's shit isn’t worth it anyway, we got given a list we should stick to it.” He grunted and wrapped his hand around her wrist, gently pulling her from the trader's grasp. She had no idea what had come over Ace, he was normally so chill and full of laughs and smiles when they went shopping together.

She excused them both, saying sorry to the trader as Ace tugged her away by her wrist. Once out of earshot, she yanked her arm away from him, glaring, hands on her hips as she waited for an explanation.

“Why were you jealous Ace? We aren't together.” She started as she tapped her foot on the floor, trying not to let her temper get the best of her, not wanting to start a shouting match in the middle of town with him.

“He was being a sleaze! I know we aren’t together but come on, he was all over you!” Ace huffed, puffing his chest out, thinking he had the high ground here until he felt her poke his chest, instantly letting the air out of him. He saw the anger in her eyes as she opened her mouth. “No Ace, I was in no danger whatsoever and maybe I enjoyed the flirting? I’m single after all and again why are you jealous?” She demanded to know, voice raising as Ace stood there, shoulders sagging. Not enjoying the feeling of being scolded by the woman he was in love with.

“Maybe I want-” He cut himself off, he couldn’t confess, not here, not like this. He would never forgive himself. And she was pissed off with his antics, it would only cloud her judgment and spur on the rejection.

He sighed, shaking his head and picking up his bag, starting to walk. “It’s nothing, I’m sorry,”

—-

The second time he tried to confess, he actually did she just didn’t believe him. 

She was sitting in Marco’s office, looking at the door to the operating room, she couldn’t stop worrying about Ace. Her foot bounced and he knee jiggled as she played with the hem of her shirt, her cheeks hurt from anxiously chewing the insides.

Ace had been hit pretty bad, he’d been cocky and showing off and ended up with seastone bullets lodged into his chest, arm, and thigh. Marco had managed to heal him enough using the phoenix ability but he still needed the bullets out.

The door opened and she looked up, a worried expression painted across her face, tear-stained cheeks as she waited for Marco to appear. “He’s fine, you can come see him, he’s coming around from being under so he’ll be a bit goofy yoi.” Marco explained and she nodded, rushing to the door, pausing and staring at Ace laying there, mumbling to himself.

She wanted to blame herself for Ace getting hurt, she felt that somehow, some part of this was her fault, like Ace was showing off just for her benefit. They’d both been lax, both too comfortable in how strong Ace’s power was to think he could be hurt.

But the sneak attack from behind had been enough to level the commander. She bit her lip, not sure if she should allow herself to see him, blame dragging her under until she felt Marco’s hand on her lower back, ushering her into the room, pulling out a chair for her to sit by Ace.

“Ace,” She said and reached over, taking his hand as Ace with his lop-sided grin faced her, he slurred, sounding drunk as he was slowly coming too. Marco sat on the other side, a chart in his hands and only half paying attention to her and Ace as he scribbled more notes.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, rubbing his knuckles gently he laughed loudly, grabbing her hand, bringing it to his face, and kissing the back, she blushed and stared at him before groaning when he started to kiss her skin, this time sloppy and leaving drool.

“Much better now your here, your like an angel.” He gushed and smiled at her, trying to grab at the hand she’d pulled away.

“You know, I really love you.” He mumbled, looking a little forlorn at his admission. She blinked at him and noticed Marco was no longer writing, her eyes met with Marco’s over his clipboard. “Do you think he means it?” She asked and Marco blinked slowly, “Who knows..” He said with an awkward chuckle, quickly going back to his notes, knowing this wasn’t his call to make.

She sighed and looked from Marco back to Ace who seemed to have fallen asleep, trying to nap off the remaining effects of being under… At least he was okay..,

–

The third time Ace almost confessed she thought she was going to die. 

Ace’s beloved striker, how fast he could move that thing, How it blasted through the waves without a care in the world, cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter. Nothing could stop it nor Ace.

Fire flared around him as he held on to his hat with one hand, letting out a laugh as he felt freedom and the sea breeze fill his chest. The way the striker skipped across the water’s surface like a pebble skimmed across a lake. 

The sun was blazing above them, watching as the fire-fueled vessel burst through another wave, seaspray spittled across Ace but not enough to slow him down or to hinder his powers. She was clinging on for dear life, the wind in her hair as she shrieked and held the mast as tight as she could. 

Ace looked back seeing her clinging onto the pole, the smirk spread across his face as slowed down, just a little before coming to a stop. She could breathe finally, she could feel her heart beating against her chest, and her mouth felt dry from her open-mouthed gawking and shouting. 

“Wasn’t that fun?” He asked, stepping over to her, and placing his hand on hers. peeling her fingers from grasping so hard at the mast, seeing her knuckles white as she took a breath to calm herself.

“I can’t believe you and Deuce made this thing, it’s crazy,” She said letting her legs wobble, she almost fell back into the seat until Ace set his hands on her hips, keeping her in place, his smirk softened to a smile, enjoying how this felt. As he met her gaze, she was stunning.

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat right?” He said with pride, remembering the day the striker was born. “Deuce screamed even more than you did,” he teased gently nudging her before draping an arm across her shoulder, letting her lean on him for stability as she carried on trying to regulate her breathing.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” She said, brushing messy hair from her face. “I’m really good at making people scream ya know…” He saw her furrowed brows as she elbowed him in jest, cheeks pink as she rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah? Maybe you should show me how else you could make me scream for you Portgas,” She fluttered her eyelashes and saw the blush that spread across his freckled cheeks, laughing when he dipped his hat to cover his face.

“Whatever,” he said and nudged her back, to and fro this went until they both sat down next to one another, a tight squeeze but neither seemed to mind. The striker was gently lulled by waves, birds overheard letting out excited cries.

“So, wasn’t it fun?” He asked again, playing with a loose thread on his shorts, staring ahead at the shimmering blue waves, feeling her shrug a little. “Scary and fun, like dating for the first time.” She said, looking across the same waves as him, feeling the sun on her skin as the boat just bobbed in place.

“Dating huh?” Ace turned to look at her now, examining her face as she met his eye once more, a small smile on her lips as she nodded. “Yeah, you know when your feelings are rushing to your heart and you feel it beating harder and harder when you spend time with the person you love, how fast the first few days and weeks feel. How alive it makes you feel but just how deep your feelings go keeping your feet rooted in place,”

He listened to her and mused it over, it was true, that summed up how he felt about her, but he wasn’t scared of being with her, he was terrified she would reject him, that he’d ruin a friendship along with the hopes and dreams of getting to hold her hand, kiss her, smell her hair first thing in the morning.

To hold her against his chest and listen to gentle breathing as she fell asleep by his side. He knew he was in deep, he knew his feelings were scarier than any storm on the sea, and joy ride on the striker.

He could cope with the fear of falling into the sea by now but he couldn't take just how his heart ached at the thought of losing her. But the bottled-up feelings carried on being shaken up inside, fit to burst and overflow any second.

Ace wanted to explode. “Would you ever… date someone?” he asked, hearing his heartbeat loud in his ears. She tilted her head to one side, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she thought about it, really thought about it. “I don’t know, I don’t think romance is on the cards for me,” she hummed and shrugged.

“Maybe I just need the right person…”

“What about if it was m-” he was cut off by a large wave rocking the striker, making them both yell in surprise. 

Ace looked up into the sky, one of the fabled out-of-nowhere storms that rolled across the world, typical of the grandline. The storm clouds above rumbled, they felt the sound of thunder rattle their chests as the waves picked up again.

“I guess we should go.” She sighed in annoyance at the same time he let out a defeated one. Both standing and Ace made sure she was holding on tight as he fired himself up once more, sending the boat rocketing over the waves, being chased by the storm.

All the way safely to The Moby Dick.

Had it been his imagination or had there been something in that conversation?

—--

The fourth time he tried to confess he was drinking one night, everyone sat around the tables, enjoying the end of another hard day. Bellies full of food, tankards full of beer as everyone laughed and cheered, singing and dancing.

And there she was, coming over to Ace’s table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she sat down, sitting across from him. He grabbed his mug, bringing it to his lips as he downed the biggest gulp. 

“Hey,” He said, hoping he sounded as casual as he’d intended though he’d straightened up and put a smile on his face.

“Can I join you?” she asked and he nodded, she sat across from him with her own drink, he admired how she looked, the backdrop of the sunset giving her a halo of orange light, like she also had his devil fruit and was on fire. He tried not to take too sharp of a breath as he admired her.

“Today was rough, I can’t believe so much went wrong.” She sighed and brought the tankard to her lips, taking a drink and all Ace could do was think lucky mug. He let out a chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the way it goes sometimes on a ship, everything can go right one minute then you'rer in the ship's guts knee-deep in salt water.” 

“Has that ever happened to the moby?” “Nah, back on my old ship.” He explained and she mused over his comment, remembering just how Ace came to be on this ship. His journey to the man he was today. “I bet that was a pain in the ass.”

“Deuce still brings it up.” Ace snickered and she giggled thinking of the doctor and how he didn’t seem to let anything go. “That checks, I bet it was your fault… right?” She raised an eyebrow, a smirk growing when Ace mock gasped and pointed to himself.

“Me? How could you imply such a thing!” he tutted, seeing how she stared at him, not believing his reply in the slightest. “Alright, alright, it was me.”

-

Drinks flowed as did the conversation, both taking turns to go and grab two more drinks. Ace’s freckled cheeks were tinged pink, as was hers. They’d moved their little party to somewhere more private. Bottles of beer stolen from the kitchen, some laying empty around them.

“Sometimes I think you and Marco would make a cute couple.” She teased and nudged him, Ace snorted and spat out his drink, coughing as some dribbled from his nose. She laughed loudly, holding her stomach as he gave her a confused look, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and wiped his face off on the fabric as payback which caused her to squeal in amusement.

“Really?” He said, voice croaky, another cough as he watched her face, seeing the smirk. “Maybe so,”

“Come on, don’t say that! I might be trying to woo someone else and wouldn’t want them to think I like birdbrain!” He huffed and stretched his legs out, grabbing another beer and leaning back against the crate they’d set up camp in front of.

“And who would that be?” She asked, leaning closer to him, half-lidded eyes, and long lashes fluttering as she waited for a reply. Ace gripped the bottle in his hand before he chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “Why do you wanna know? Would you be jealous?” 

She was a little taken aback by his flirty comment, she was glad for the dim light provided by the strings lights above. She could feel her face getting hotter at his reply, her palms sweating. She would be jealous, wouldn’t she? She sat back leaning on the crate and picking up her beer, staring at the stars.

“And what if I was? What would you do about it?” She said, turning to face him, watching him shift and lean forward. Eyes meeting hers. “Well, the last thing I’d wanna do is make you jealous..” He said, not a lie.

His eyes dropped to her lips where she was smiling at him, he wanted to kiss her so badly, the booze making him fearless, the back-and-forth flirting between two friends sending a buzz, an electric charge in the air as their bare arms touched. 

“Oh? Why?” 

His heart was racing, he licked his lips as he found he couldn't look away from her mouth, couldn’t think of anything but his desire to kiss her. She cleared her throat and he forced himself to make eye contact.

“Well, what if yo-” “There you two are!”

Ace groaned when Thatch turned the corner, standing in front of them. “We are about to start a big game of poker! Come on you two, quit making out and join us!” Thatch reached down and ruffled their hair. Ace huffed and slapped his hand away.

“Alright, alright!”

—-

The fifth time he tried to confess was just a simple evening. 

Ace hunched over a table in the dining room late in the afternoon, brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes on the paper, He chewed on the end of the pen as he glared at the paper in front of him. Something all commanders had to do but he still hated this part of the job.

Paperwork.

She’d been looking for him, missing his company, his banter, and jokes, the warmth he would radiate with his smile and his body. She pushed open the door and saw him working hard, she felt herself smiling, gazing at him, fond of the commander that she was increasingly getting closer to, knowing him inside and out.

Seeing more sides of him than he ever let others witness. She walked over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, he glanced up, and the irritated look vanished the moment he realized who it was. He placed his hand on hers and smiled.

“Hey,” “Hey, was wondering where you were.”

“Yeah?” He asked as she sat down on the other side, looking at the paper he was toiling over. “You have beautiful handwriting Ace..” she said with awe in her voice, pulling the sheet closer to her, and reading over his notes.

“Something I picked up from my childhood, from one of the good people I met.” He shrugged, even with her he was cagey about the past. She never pushed or pried though, never.

“Your writing is better than anyone else in fact.. Marco’s looks like chicken scratch, Thatch has more food stains the ink on his paperwork, and I don’t even want to mention the mess that Jozu makes and Vista.. His is far too fancy to understand.” She said as she looked over the page, Ace leaned on the table, cheek cradled in the palm of his hand as he admired her.

He wasn’t really listening, too focused on watching her lips move, watching the way she brushed hair behind her ear. He snapped out of it when she handed him back the paper. “Oh, thanks, yeah.” He mumbled in reply and tapped the nib of his pen on the paper.

“But yeah, beautiful Ace,” 

“I can think of something more beautful,” He started, watching her stare at him like she was expecting something. He managed to catch himself, realizing in his daze he’d almost let everything slip again. He sat up and nodded. “Yeah, the stars tonight! Pop’s said we should have a harvest moon! Those things are huge!”

She sighed inwardly, she felt he’d been so close to something…

“Wanna go see it together after I finish this up?” He offered, taking the paper and quickly returning his attention to his work, tipping his hat down to hide his face.

“I’d like that.”

–

She felt tears running down her face, and snot from her nose as she rushed after the others, Ace in Jozu’s arms as Marco became a beacon of blue fire, hands on Ace’s chest as everyone rushed aboard the ship.

Ace had been hit pretty bad, he’d have been dead if Marco hadn’t been there at that second. She couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat as she followed them to the infirmary, Marco only allowing her access because her name was all that Ace could manage to say as he came in and out of consciousness.

He looked so pitiful, a dimming flame that flickered in the wind as he was laid out on the bed, Marco never moving from Ace’s side, hands splayed out on his chest, keeping the wound from getting worse, from killing him.

She’d never seen Marco so frazzled, the normally laid-back man was shouting, a frown on his face as he carried on barking orders. Deuce and Tate rushed around the office, grabbing the things he asked for as you sat by Ace’s bedside.

His eyes opened, he didn’t seem all there as he reached a bloody hand out, grasping for hers. She held his hand tight as Marco’s flames got brighter, swallowing the room, and chasing away the shadows as the phoenix worked its magic.

Deuce hooking Ace up to a drip, Tate grabbing all manner of things. She had no idea what was going on, she didn’t dare ask Marco as he growled out “Come on Ace!” 

Everything was a blur, the shouting, yelling, clatter of things, and frustrated mumbles soon died down as Marco’s healing flames dissipated. Marco had never looked so ragged or old, she bit her lip when she saw his knees wobble and he sank to the floor, heavy breathing.

“Is Ac- is Ace okay?” she asked and saw Marco nod. “I have him stable, we have him stable.” He added seeing Deuce and Tate at Ace’s bedside, checking on things.

-

She didn’t leave his side, she hadn’t let go of his hand. Deuce opened the door and peered in, seeing her half slumped on Ace’s bed. “Want something to drink?” he asked, stepping in and checking a few things with Ace. She shook her head and politely declined.

Exhausted and too drained to think of anything. 

Deuce sighed and nodded, hanging up the clipboard before he left, to report to Marco no doubt. She felt Ace’s hand twitch and glanced up. He was staring right back at her, he looked rough but alive. He was going to be fine, thank the gods.

“Hey,” he clutched her hand, doing his best to smile at her. “Hey,” she sat up and offered him a weak smile. 

“We almost lost you there Portgas.” She sighed and watched him struggle to sit, she reached over, helping him sit, adjusting his pillows. “I know… but almost doesn’t count right?” he chuckled and winced, hand going to his bandaged chest.

“Your so cocky,” she sighed but the smile never left. 

“I’m glad I’m alive, I would have hated myself if I never got to tell you how much I love you.” Ace didn’t look away this time, it was out there, it was wild and free, the confession he’d been sitting on for as long as he could remember.

Her eyes opened wide and she bit back a sob, hearing those words… “I love you too Ace, you idiot,” She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning her forehead against his, sobbing softly as Ace closed his eyes, feeling complete at last. 

–

Marco leaned on the door frame, hearing the tearful confession from the pair. He smiled, glad two soulmates weren’t taken from one another before they had a chance to flourish together.

[1-800fandomqueen]

Murdered 1462

Vladislaus Dragulia x fem!reader

Part Two

WC : 3.7K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Mentions of witchcraft, verbal abuse, murder, canon-typical violence and story-line, pregnancy, death, etc.

If there are any more warnings to be added let me know!

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

“Born: 1422… Murdered: 1462.”

‘I was born into a noble family, my father was the duke of Hungary.’

Slipping into the more tame selection of your clothing, muting the sound of ruffling cloth as much as possible to not wake you lady-in-waiting, Agnes, who had fallen asleep whilst handling your linens. Once dressed, you throw a shawl over your head in any attempt to hide your identity. You’d been hated by the townspeople ever since you and your father had travelled here for business, the small-minded people of Transylvania already despised the idea of foreigners, but the idea of you and the rumor of the practice you brought along? Most claimed you to be a witch. But alas, even their hatred couldn’t extinguish your spirit.

Sneaking out had never been easier. 

You’d always been an adventurous person, something your father always chastised you for. He believed ladies should sit still, sit quietly, and sit pretty. He had an image to uphold, and he couldn’t have his only child galavanting around town, acting improper. He used to let you do as you please, but when the plague took your mother he became cold, harsh. 

Feeling the cold air hit your skin as you shimmy out the window and down the trellis until your shoes hit the ground with a small thud, making a small promise to yourself to be back before dawn. The entire grounds of the house were fenced in, with guards stationed at the main gate. You couldn’t exit out that way as they would stop you the second they saw you. But unbeknownst to them, you’d discovered a break in a part of the fence. Shimmying out the back, you begin the trek down the hill the house sits on to the village. 

~~~

‘It had been cold when I met him, when he saved me. If he hadn’t shown when he did, I fear I would have been no longer. ‘

“You can run but you can’t hide, witch!” You were growing tired, legs and feet burning with effort. When turning a corner in the marketplace you’d run into someone,  knocking the shawl off your head, revealing your identity. You’d garnered the attention of a group of particularly cruel drunkards, who began to hurl obscenities towards you. And before you could even blink, they began chasing you. You tried to throw them off, hoping all your time exploring would have given you enough of a terrain advantage. But the feeling of someone grabbing the back of your shawl and pulling you to the ground steals all your hope of getting away. 

Pain absorbs your back as you land hard and fast on the cold ground. The early morning dew seeps through your dress as the cold air fogs your breath as it leaves your lungs from the impact, the main perpetrator kneeling on your neck, cutting off your air supply. One of the other men wrapping your feet and hands with rope. Your ears rang as your head snapped back against a rock, vision going foggy. You couldn’t hear what the men were saying to you, only that they were taunting you. You were able to make out the blur of a mass of light coming towards you, and it was only when the heat brushed against your face could you tell it was fire. 

You tried to fight back, to struggle. But with the mans’ knee against your throat, the lack of oxygen was making you weak. As the black spots were so close to entirely filling your vision, the man suddenly lets off of you, and the heat of the fire goes away. You cough, rolling over onto your elbows and knees as you try to regain your breath. You can hear the men pleading to a deep voice for mercy, and then your vision returns in time to watch as they run away.

“Are you alright?” 

‘I didn’t even know his name, he wouldn’t give it to me. All I knew was that I was utterly captivated by him.’

The deep accented voice held your attention entirely, as the man attached to that voice crouched down next to you, a gentle hand placed on your back. “Madam? Are you alright?” Gasping out, feeling like your vocal chords are completely crushed, only able to choke out a small “yes.” The hand on the small of your back stays while one reaches to your left forearm, grabbing it to help you up. And when you stumble backwards, the firm body of the stranger is there to catch you. 

When you’ve regained your breath, and were able to stand on your own, you stepped away from the stranger. “Who are you?” gazing at the man before you and trying to map his features by only what you could see in the barely-there moonlight. You’ve decided by what little of him you could see, that he was still undoubtedly handsome. Slightly taller than you, possibly 6-foot, dark hair, and shockingly blue eyes. 

“Who I am is of no importance at the moment,” the deep voice jolting you out of your stupor, “But it is important to know why a group of beţivii (drunks) were attacking a young woman in the forest?” At the mention of your attack you feel the pain seep into your neck, adrenaline finally beginning to wear off. Letting out a cough as your hand comes to gently cup the base of your neck. “Well, Romanians tend to be quite wary of foreigners, and you’ve just bore witness to the fact that they don’t particularly like me.” your tone clipped, pulling a deep chuckle from the man. 

You feel blush overtake your visage as you realize how rude that sounded, embarrassment filling you at your rudeness to the man who saved you. “I’m sorry, I’m usually not this rude I swear, I’m still just a little frightened. Thank you, by the way, for coming to my aid. I’ll ask my father to make sure you’re rewarded for your valiant efforts.” The stranger ignores your apology and thanks, “Your father?” his head tilted to the side, pieces of hair falling across his face, “Yes my father, He’s the Duke of Hungary, we’re here on diplomatic business.” “Hmm, for what?” You falter and cover your mouth, giving the man an apologetic look. You’re relieved when he seems to pick up on what you’re implying, even though he gives you a dark, brief, look of knowing,  “I understand, trade secrets.” He says with a slight smile, holding out his arm. “Here, it’s almost dawn, let me accompany you back to wherever you’re staying.”

And with a small smile, you take his arm. 

‘I didn’t anticipate what would happen when I took his arm. That my world was about to turn, that taking his arm on that cold, damp, morning, signed my death.’ 

It was a lovely walk back, filled with small talk and pleasantries. When you approached the doors to the Governor’s house, you could hear the commotion before you saw it. When the stranger accompanying you opened the door, his right elbow still linked with your left, all the commotion suddenly came to a screeching halt. Several pairs of eyes turned to you, including those of Agnes, then the faces attached to all those eyes paled when they saw the man whose arm you still held. When your father called you towards him, a dark look in his eye, you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “Step away from him. “ Your father beckoned, he hadn’t looked this grim since the doctor in Hungary told him of your mothers fate. 

Swallowing in nervousness you look up to the man accompanying you only to find him already looking down at you, a rather downcast look in his eyes. Your father calls again, walking towards you. “Step away. Now.” You stare long and hard at the man by your side until he gently nudges you towards the others in the room. You failed to notice until you looked up that most of the guards in the room had their weapons aimed towards him. Stepping away from him you’re immediately met by your lady in waiting coming and sweeping you up the stairs. “Lock her in her room Agnes, until I call for her.” You throw one last glance towards the man to find him still staring at you. Turning the hall, Agnes gently pushes you into your room, and before she shuts the door behind you, the angry conversation from the foyer floods into the room. “What were you doing with my daughter, Impaler.”

‘I suppose it wasn’t a bad situation, after all I was quite taken with him, even if I didn’t know who he was at first. I didn’t fear him, even though everyone else did.’

It was what felt like hours before you heard a key being inserted in the lock of the door. Bounding up from the bed to be greeted by the sight of two guards when the door swung open. You weren’t able to utter a single word when you were grabbed by both arms and dragged away from your room, well actually the room belonged to your Stranger, in your time locked in you had discovered from Agnes that Vlad was the Military Governor of Romania, and that you and all the diplomats were currently residing in his house. 

Ironic how things work out. 

 When you asked where you were being taken you were met with utter silence, the guards only tightening their grip after you tried to pull away. Only feeling ease when the door to what you recognize to be the master study of the house was yanked open and you were promptly thrown in. 

Glancing up at the long table to see other diplomats lining the perimeter, your father and who you've come to know as Vlad the Impaler, gracing the far end of the table. “What’s going on?” questioned towards your father even though your eyes are locked with Vlads. Your father says nothing to you as he quietly sends off the others in the room, leaving only the three of you. You only move when he quirks a finger in a come-hither gesture, your eyes glued to your socked feet as you cross your hands in front of your legs. “You understand the reason for my business here,” your father says, “to create a treaty with him” word spoken with venom, “to prevent him from causing any more destruction and massacre off to the West” Saying nothing, only giving a slight nod, still looking down. “Well everything was lined up perfectly, but now, the Voivode (governor) has added a new term to the treaty. Your hand in marriage.”

Feeling your eyes bulge out of their sockets as your head flies up, immediately shouting out “What?” the glare your father sticks on you prevents you from saying anymore. “You heard me girl.” grabbing your arm as he drags you to the farthest corner of the room. “And as much as I hate to do this, you will marry him. You’re reaching your twentieth year and still haven’t married, and I will not jeopardize the well-state of Hungary just because you decide to be stupid and prance around in the town unsupervised.” Your jaw dropping in shock, eyes welling with tears. This man before you was not your father, in all fairness he hadn’t been much of a father after your mother died but his words still hurt nonetheless. 

“Your grace, I would like a moment alone with your daughter.” your father turns red-faced, the beginnings of a protest forming in his mind, “It wasn’t a suggestion.” One elegant finger pointing towards the door, “Leave. Now.” huffing, your father pushes past you and storms towards the door, the loud sound of it banging closed behind you causes you to jump, a small cry of fear leaving your lips. 

Now it was just you and him. With your head still down you didn’t notice his approach until perfectly polished shoes fell just within your line of sight. Your name being gently called as a rough hand softly finds itself upon the back of your elbow. “I hope you’ve learned by now that I mean you no harm.” His right hand coming to your chin and tipping your head up, Blue eyes coming into contact with yours once again. “I hope you know I do not wish to cause you distress with my proposal.” You nod profusely, muttering out a soft repeating of “I know.” The same hand on your chin moves up to wipe the tears you didn’t know had fallen. For a man who had killed thousands with those same hands, when he was near it was nothing but gentle touches. “Our marriage doesn’t have to be immediate, I’m not immune to the benefits of a little light courtship, however I am reaching an age no bachelor ever should.” Words spoken with a joking lilt, Vlad briefly hunching over. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight of his horrible interpretation of an old person. 

The two of you are launched into a comfortable silence, and you realize that with all that you’ve learned about this man in the past however many hours didn’t scare you as much as it probably should’ve. And with this newfound bravery and lack of fear, you confidently reach and grab the hand that’s resting on your cheek and with as much courage as you could muster, and you accept his proposal. 

‘Being with him wasn’t at all what I thought it would be. He was nothing but kind to me, nothing but gentle touches and words all throughout our marriage.’

With the treaty being settled and your newfound courtship with a certain military general, everyone left back to their home territories, including your father. Him practically trading you off to sell his own skin didn’t hurt as much as it used too. He left quickly and with promise that most of your possessions still in Hungary would be sent down to Romania. You kept Agnes with you, after all she’d been one of your closest confidants since your mother had died. When the spring of 1460 came along, it brought your twentieth birthday and marriage ceremony with it. 

It was a truly gorgeous ceremony. While not filled with pomp and circumstance, it was graceful, elegant. Your pursuer wasn’t exactly poorer, and you were able to have the most gorgeous gown you’d thought you’d ever seen. You had Agnes of all people walk you down the aisle, seeing as your father hadn’t thought to show even though invitations had been sent weeks in advance. You had been introduced to an estranged number of people at your wedding. Your husbands’ father, Valerious, who served a group of Holy Knights. He proved to be a rather cynical man, yet seemed to be nice once you’d gotten to know him. 

You couldn’t help but notice, however, a man who always hovered near the back. He was tall, dark hair, covered in black clothing, however you could never make out his face. You knew he was watching you, even when separated from Vlad you could feel the glare of someone constantly burning into the back of your neck. Everytime you garnered your husband's attention to question him about the man, he seemed to have disappeared, swallowed by the shadows he hid in. 

Marriage to one of the most dangerous men on this side of the Balkans wasn’t bad. He always treated you with a gentle hand, was never harsh, never cruel, and he never-ever raised his voice. When questioned on his docile behavior his reasoning behind it being that you were his wife, and you should never need to fear him. 

When you came to find out that he didn’t live in the palace-like house you were staying in when you first arrived in Romania you were slightly shocked. No, instead he lived in a citadel, a castle near the Arges River; Poenari. And what a beautiful place it was. You much preferred the secludism of this house than the one in the town. The view of the mountains and the fresh air they produced was always a reprieve. Your room was in the highest level of one of the castle spires, with a large window parallel to your bed, so you always woke to the stunning view of the sunrise. 

You were however surprisingly lonely most of the time. As it would turn out, being someone of extreme military prowess took a lot of your husband's time away from you. If it weren’t for Agnes and the few estranged workers who milled around the estate you fear you’d have gone mad. When he wasn’t busy trying to take over most of Europe, he was a very caring man. Giving you luxurious gifts, taking you on trips. His love took you into the deepest throes of passion, both physically and metaphorically. 

You truly couldn’t ask for a better husband.

‘It was raining that night, not quite cold enough for it to snow. I can’t remember that much, I just remember how scared I was.’

The rain crashed against your window, thunder and lightning taking the sky ever-so-often, Vlad wasn’t in bed even though it was quite late. He was having a very crucial meeting, about what you didn’t know, he’d only come to your room to tell you not to wait on him, to go on and sleep, and to bestow a small kiss to you and your rotund stomach. 

After almost two years of marriage, the summer of 1462 blessed you with news of a child. With Poenari being so far from any doctors, your dear Agnes stepped in as a midwife of sorts, making sure you were healthy; sleeping and eating well. She said that springtime would be when your child would finally make their appearance into the world, and you were eaten alive with both anticipation and excitement. 

But with your pregnancy came all sorts of changes. For example, it might have been the dead of winter, but you felt as if you were burning alive. Dressed in nothing but one of your husband's shirts and your undergarments you couldn’t find it in yourself to combat the heat. Grabbing the side of the mattress and your bedside-table, you heave yourself off the bed, reaching for your thin silk robe.

You failed to notice the dark figure in the corner of your room. 

Shuffling over to the other side of the room you go to feel around the box of matches off one of the bookshelves, to relight the lamp on your side-table. Once you find what you’re looking for, you turn on your heel right as lightning strikes and lights up the room. It was for only a moment, but that split-second of light was all you needed to see the man standing in the corner of the room closest to your door. You almost think it’s your husband playing a trick on you, but the rational part of your brain understands that Vlad would never do that to you, especially in your current condition. With the man so close to the door you surely can’t run, so you do the only other thing you could think of.

Scream and hope your husband or a guard hears you in time.

You didn’t even register how loud your scream was, your body going into fight or flight mode the second the man lunges forwards. You bolt as quickly as you could to your Husbands’ side of the bed to grab a dagger he keeps next to him off his side-table. You turn to stab your assailant as he reaches to grab you. He clutches your wrist faster than you could keep up with, pushing it back and trying to twist your own wrist towards you. Crying out as it reaches an angle it shouldn’t, you propel your knee forward into his groin which gives you enough time to run around the other side of the bed and towards the door, reveling in his groan of pain.

As you work your way past the bed you feel the air around the back of your head shift and the next sound you hear is that of your window breaking. Ignoring the glass that flies all over the room, you crank open your bedroom door, screaming at the top of your lungs for help as you try to begin to make your way down the spiral staircase. It’s only when you hear voices shouting from below do you feel a hand wrap its way around the back of your neck, yanking you back up the stairs. You’re dragged through your room and brought to where your window once was, glass shards digging into your feet. Lightning strikes once more as you’re flipped around, back leaning out into the rainy abyss, and you’re able to get a better glimpse of your attacker.

It’s the man from your wedding. 

Right as you reach this epiphany the door to your room slams open, your husband entering. He calls your name, hand lifting in the air and weakly falling back. “Don’t do this Gabriel,” he pleads, “Please let go of my wife.” The mystery man, Gabriel, pushes you further, your back bending at an awkward angle out and into the chilling rain. “I’m sorry,” your assailant murmurs, “But you broke the oath.” 

And with that, he pushes you out the window. 

You can’t tell if that sound is you screaming or if it’s the wind rushing past your head. Your hair whips around your face as rain projectiles onto you like tiny bullets. The last thing you see is your Husband leaning out the window, gazing at you in defeated sorrow, and a gloved hand coming around, plunging a dagger into his chest. 

You’re not quite sure how you die. Whether your body slammed onto the hard ground hundreds of feet below your bedroom, or if you land in the Arges. All you remember is that brief bit of searing pain,

And then everything went dark. 

~

Originally posted December 2nd, 2021.

[ghostedeabha]

sweet distractions

trafalgar d. water law x oc (marionette aoife)

wc; 1,714

tw; mentions of gagging and nausea, mentions of illness, probably very ooc law, nothing else, pure fluffy fluff

a/n; my first oc fics :3 hope y'all enjoy it!! and if anyone wants to hear more about my oc (including her very special devil fruit powers) don't be afraid to comment or send an ask to let me know!! it's very law centred, really all that gives it away that this is x oc rather than x reader is that my oc is mentioned by name a few times a very briefly described with some characteristics ("hybrid-bunny", "slender arms")

the hustle and bustle of the marketplace did well to conceal law and penguin as they walked past shops and stalls to gather and restock some supplies while they were resurfaced and docked for the day.

originally, law and aoife were meant to run the errand together, the smaller of the two insistant on wanting to have some simple time alone. the thought of doing a stupidly domestic chore together made her happy, and law was aware of that.

but when the bunny-hybrid fell ill, the transition from deep sea to land causing the woman to experience some flu-like symtoms— chills, vomiting, and the lack of an appetite–law had no choice but to find another partner for the task. much to aoife’s protest.

“i’ll be fine!” law remembers the high-pitched objection coming from her lips before she gagged, trying to repress the queasy stomach that plagued her from her reverse sea-sickness.

now walking through the marketplace, law couldn't help but be reminded of his small lover with everything they passed. a florist stand that sold the prettiest poppies and dark purple cosmos. a stall that was selling some gorgeous lacy bows and other hair accessories.

“captain, hurry up. we still need to find some rice.” penguin’s voice pierces through law’s thoughts about aoife and brings him back to the present.

“right, of course. i’m coming.” the surgeon grunts, clearing his throat and turning his gaze ahead of him, rather than scanning all the different stands in the marketplace as he had been doing before.

that is until a particular stand catches his eyes. it’s nothing all to extravagant, nothing special at all really, but it’s not the stand’s appearance or decor that grabs the stoic man’s attention. no, it’s one particular item they have in stock.

a specific bag of chocolates. they were these little drops of fruit juice candies covered in dark chocolate, pomegranate candies specifically. a chcolate that law remembered aoife mentioning in passing as a favourite treat of hers.

“they’re probably my favourite chocolates ever!” the bunny’s voice rings in his mind, “but they’re so hard to find while traveling the world. i haven't had them in years”

a smile come to law’s face as he approaches the stall, clearing his throat to get the seller’s attention, an elderly woman who wore a loose, blue dress and a matching headscarf. “how much are these pomegranate chocolates? and how many do you have in stock?” he inquires, pointing to the bag.

"those bags are 10 berries each. i’ve about 40 left in stock.” the woman replies, a sweet smile on her face.

“i’ll take them all then.” law demands, digging in his coat pocket to pull out the pouch he carried his berries for this market trip in.

“i’m sorry my dear,” the woman begin, clearly taken aback by law’s declaration to buy the entire stock. “you want all of them?” she inquires.

“yes, ma’am.” law confirms, giving the elderly woman a firm nod. “my girlfriend mentioned these once as a favourite treat of hers, but they are hard to come by, so i’d like to stock up.”

the stoic surgeon watches as the elderly woman’s face relaxes from it’s scrunched confusion into a soft smile of adoration and reminition at his explanation.

“ah, i see. what a sweet gift for your lover!” the woman praises, standing from her seat with a quiet groan, the assitance of her cane doing little to ease her old and deteriorating bones, a sight that reminds law of aoife once more, despite the incredibly large age gap between the two women.

funny, how different yet similar bodies could be. the doctor couldn't help but think to himself.

“yes, i suppose it is.” law murmurs in response, tanned cheeks heating up slightly as he is called out for his gentlemanly gesture. despite their years together and the fact that his gestures never went unnoticed, nor un-commented on, law still found himself flushing with both modesty and pride when he was even jusy slightly praised for the actions he felt should come naturally when in love.

“tell you what, son.” the woman begins, bony and wrinkly hand moving swiftly to pack up the bags of chocolates into a larger bag for law to carry. “i’ll give them to you for half the price, it’s been a while since i’ve seen such young love that’s brought a smile to my face. not many men these days do things like this for their lovers.”

the woman holds the sack of chocolate baggies out for law to take as the younger looks at her in slight shock. he hadn't expected the woman to give him a discount because he was buying in bulk, and he certainly hadn't expected such a big discount either.

“i can't, 200 berries isn't enough for all of that.” law argues, already reaching into his money satchel to pay the woman the full 400 berries that it would be.

“i insist.” the elderly woman replies firmly, holding a hand up to stop law from attempting to argue further.

law knows he’s lost this battle, there was never any point in arguing with a stubborn old woman, especially not one who was insistent on treating you with the upmost hospitality and kindness. and what kind of man would he be to turn the woman down and insult her honour?

“well, thank you very much, ma’am.” law expresses his gratitude towards the much older woman with a small bow of his head as he places the 200 berries he owed her onto her stand. though not without sneaking an extra few berries in there for her kindness.

“don't thank me, son. just enjoy those with your darling.” the woman dismisses law, waving him away with a smile. she watches as he leaves, the broodish man returning her wave as he steps away to return to his main task.

it’s then that law realizes he had gotten distracted yet again and had lost penguin.

thankfully not for long, though, as law continues wandering the marketplace he soon heard the familiar voice of penguin cutting through the crowd and approaching from behind.

“uh, what do you have there, captain?” penguin inquires as he takes in the full bag that law held in his hand.

“treat for aoife.” law mutters simply, offering no further explanation to the crewmate as he once again begins to head through the market.

“oh? alright then.” penguin replies, pressing his lips together in curiosity as he adjusts the 15.5kg sack of rice on his shoulder, but says nothing further. it wasn't really any of his business and whether or not his curiosity built, he wouldn't get a full answer until they returned to the Polar Tang and law gave aoife her so called treat.

and so the two continued with their errands, stocking up on food and other necessities they could find at the market before making their way back to the Polar Tang to put it all away; and more importantly, so law could give aoife her chocolates.

his hands were shaking slightly with anticipation as law lifted his hand up to knock on the bedroom door to announce his arrival. despite it being his own damn room and the gesture not being necessary in the slightest, he still like to give aoife that tiny warning that he was entering the room, just in case his sudden appearance could started the bunny-hybrid. it’s not like he’s done that before or anything!

“aoife? i’ve got a surprise for you from the market.” law announces as he steps into the bedroom, taking in the sight of his beloved girlfriend curled up beneath the blankets with a book in hand, watching her as one of gray ears twitches at the sound of his voice.

“a surprise?” aoife inquires, blue eyes looking up from her novel to settle on the tanned surgeon in front of her who currently held a big paper bag that she could only assume contained aforementioned surprise.

“a surprise.” law confirms, a smile creeping onto his face as he watches the anticipation and excitement building on his sweet girlfriend’s face.

“here.” he says, thrusting the bag into her awaiting hands.

aoife can't help the squeal of excitement that escapes her as law shoves the paper bag into her hands for her to take, the opens it up and the gasp she lets out tugs at the surgeon’s heartstrings in the best way possible.

“no way!” the bunny hybrid screeches, pulling one of the many baggies out to examine it. “the chocolates!”

a deep chuckle leaves law’s lips, rumbling from his chest, as he watches aoife gushing over her simple gift. it never failed to both amuse and make law feel a sense of pride whenever he could get aoife to smile and laugh like this.

“you like your surprise then?” law teases, a smirk in his face as he sits down on the bed next to his girlfriend.

“like it?! i love it! i still can't believe you manage to find the chocolates! and so much too! this stock will last me months!” aoife gushes, moving to lean against law, slender arms wrapping around one of his muscular ones as she tucks her head beneath his chin, white curls tickling his skin. her physical affection her thanks for his present.

“thank you so much, law. this is the best present ever.” she murmurs, pressing a chaste and quick peck to his jawline.

“you're welcome.” law grunts in response, hand coming up to rub at his girlfriend’s back. he had quite a bit to do yet, make sure things were all in order to resubmurge the Polar Tang, help with categorizing the new inventory, journal studies, more. but law couldn't find it in him to pull himself away from the diversion of his lover in his arms.

these sweet distractions were something he’d never tire of.

[saintkunii]

All a ghost can do is haunt

Pairing. Zhongli x reader

Contents. arranged marriage, historical au, ex fiance childe mentioned, a simple life with your military general hubby zhongli.

Wc. 1.7k

It is with a heavy heart that you find yourself resigning to your fate, caressing a jade hairpin with grief. It’s smooth against your fingers. The intricate carvings give the illusion of a fluttering phoenix almost lifelike as if it’s about to soar to the skies. 

It’s the most exquisite thing in your possession and the only remnant you have of a certain diplomat’s son. 

With every stroke to the hairpin, you’re brought back to the day you received the item with so much fondness and excitement that you carried it with gentleness. afraid that if you put too much force, it would crumble under your touch. 

It was a rough hand that reached out to gift if to you that warmed up your soul. 

He said it was a promise of some sort. Of a lifetime and of his return. 

He said it was meant to symbolize your connection with him. Something physical. Something tangible. 

Something to remember him by.

You recall the soft breeze carrying ginko leaves off to the distance and the faraway clamor of a festive banquet in the background. 

His eyes back then were crystal clear, electric blue in hue stared at you with a tender grin, calloused fingers wrapped around your hand in a gentle hold. His thumb would rub around your knuckles in assurance as you were forbidden to meet in such a secluded part of the mansion. 

And he was rebellious in nature, always finding ways to get around and meet you in secret. When he enveloped you in his embrace, it’s as if it was meant to be, and you mold perfectly within his arms. 

It was perfect. 

His warmth soothed your racing nerves and the playfulness in his kiss filled you with nothing but glee. 

Everything went as it should. 

As the betrothal should have.

Ajax. You recall his name. What once filled you with joy and fondness has now turned into a bitter memory that makes you feel sick in your stomach. 

Your hold on the hairpin tightened and you let the item roll down your feet with a soft thud. 

It stings. Your chest feels constricted and your eyes warmed with tears. 

Oh you loved him so much, it hurts. 

Had you not decided to visit the marketplace with so much stubbornness, relentlessly pleading to your husband, you would not have met the sight of that man smiling and laughing with the woman he replaced you with. The ever so great foreign woman who attracted his curiousity. With hair as bright as gold, skin as pale as jade, and elegance as delicate as the calm winds that twists your heart with jealousy.

She was valiant. Aja- Childe would describe. Strong and courageous with a heart of gold, selflessly putting others above herself, and a woman of virtue. As you've been told.

You hated how soft his voice melted as he spoke those words. It was the same as how he used to speak to you in private. 

She was every bit that you're not. courageous and kind. 

It's a sight tainted with bitterness and such hollowness you can't help but resent the memory.

A servant at your side was alarmed at your reaction as she rushed up to you and supported you by your elbow. 

“Are you alright, madam?”

You choke a sob.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and exhaled. 

There was no point dwelling over the past. 

Try as you might not to let said matters get to you, you realized that the long years of affection you harbored to Childe was not so easy to dispel as you had thought so. 

“I’m fine.”

Ling Ji picks up the hairpin and brushes away any dust that might have cling to it before returning it to you.

You take one glance at it. It’s magnificent and beautiful, appearing with great splendor that you've worn over the years. It carried all the memories you have of Childe. All the good and bad.

“Sell it away,” you order with a final conviction.

You decided to discard any remaining embers of feelings you have left for your previous fiance. 

This is for the best. 

You hope so. 

Parting was inevitable. 

“Madam? Are you sure?”

Ling Ji asks once more, afraid that she heard wrong but you only nodded your head to her. 

She knew how much you treasured the item.

“I do not want to repeat myself again. Just do it.” 

“As you wish.”

She excuses herself out of the room and disappears, leaving you all alone to gather your thoughts. 

It’s best you hold your head high now that you’re married to someone else and focus your energy on building a better relationship with your husband. After all, he saved you from the humiliation of being branded as a discarded woman not wanted by their betrothed. In exchange for an heir, he offers you all the wealth and luxuries, prestige and honor that are tied to being his wife, and freedom to do whatever you want to your heart’s content. 

–

Zhongli was a feared figure in the battlefield, a war god that ravishes the land with blood and carnage. Just a mention of his name was enough to evoke fear among the mass. They said he beheaded a man and skewered his head as a warning to the barbarians, they said he took a hundred men with his bare hands and tore through their flesh like it was nothing. 

It was always he said, she said. 

With a reputation as gruesome as the military general, stories were bound to blow out of proportion and thus you’ve always thought not to put too much attention to the rumors. 

When you first met him. He was nothing as they proclaimed him as. There was nothing like a fearmongering god in his visage. He was cordial when you talked to him. Ever so polite and patient when he offered you tea and shared a box of pastries over a casual talk. 

His rich knowledge of everything under the sun made you initially think he has semblance to the overly pompous and close minded noble sons that sees others beneath their stature, and yet not once had you seen him carry that arrogance that comes with the scholarly attributes. 

The humility in his approach is a little endearing as you would find yourself admitting.

“Did you enjoy your little trip to the market?” He asks, his hand careful in pouring tea. 

You watch his callous fingers wrapped around the handle of the teapot and as green liquid fills your cup, the earthy aroma wafts through your nose and soothes your nerves. 

That was supposed to be your job and yet you watch your husband serve you refreshments. Ever since you entered Zhongli's family registry as his wife, you always made sure to spend even a little bit of time with him.

“I did, my lord. But there was nothing that struck my fancy.”

You took the cup with gratitude and brought the rim to your lips. One sip and you place it back down with a soft thud. 

For some reason, Zhongli's presence always exudes such calm temperance that sways you into tranquil silence. The words exchanged between the two of you are never short and yet there's an unspoken trust that lets you cultivate in such an environment for such a short frame of time that you've been together. 

You consider him a friend at least. At this stage.

And you've been working hard to close the distance between you two.

“I see. Maybe next time I’ll bring you to Mingxing.” Zhongli empties his cup.

He sees your barely touched tea and regards you with curiosity.

“And have you adjusted well within the mansion?”

Whether he notices your plight or not, he doesn't comment on it and awaits until you're comfortable enough to spill it yourself. For that you are grateful. 

“Don’t you have Xiao to report back to you, my lord? I’m certain he already told you everything I’ve done.”

“That’s true but hearing it from you would be entirely different. I'd very much love to hear your personal opinion.”

You nod in understanding and recount anything of worth to tell. From the way you're adapting to your role as the mistress of the house and everything that involves managing the estate. 

You suppose you're doing well. Aside from your heartbreak. 

Everyday you spend time indulging in your hobbies. From reading to embroidering and painting, you've never felt more relaxed in your entire life. Comparing yourself with your life back in your paternal home, from the scheming of your father's concubines, to your sisters sabotaging each other, you've finally tasted a life free of worries. 

Zhongli did make a promise to let you live a comfortable life. Not only that but he had gone above and beyond as you noticed the lack of women in his inner court. As of now, all his attention was completely on you. 

"The progress for the renovation of the east wing is going well, my lord. It is estimated to finish before the arrival of this friend of yours."

You notice him crack a smile. 

“There is no point being so overly formal between the two of us, wife.”

You raise a brow at this, a little taken aback because of how you've been used to calling him. 

You didn't think it would matter to him much as he had always kept a respectful distance between the two of you. 

You humor him a little. You like this. 

You're thankful that he's meeting you halfway with your efforts.

He must have noticed as he's always been perceptive. 

“Very well. I’ll take it as an invitation to call you something else then.” For a while, you ponder for an endearment. “Zhongli.”

Zhongli chokes on his tea.

“You don’t like it?”

“No- That’s not it. It took me by surprise. That is all.”

“Oh? You don’t think it’s too intimate?”

“I, naturally, have nothing against it." Your husband regains his composure. "I suppose since we’re husband and wife then there’s nothing wrong with whatever way you wish to address me.”

You smile in response to this, letting the silence settle in the space between you and the warmth of what you can now call your family of your own. 

Maybe you're not quite there yet with love, but you're willing to try again once more, open your heart and trust with the companionship of your husband.

It's not all bad. You think so yourself. Zhongli is a great man as far as you can tell and you're ready to move on to the next chapter of your life with him.