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railingsofsorrow · 3 days
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don't walk out
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 
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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  
lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  
it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 
“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  
“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 
“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 
it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  
“I'm gonna drive.” 
“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 
“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  
he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  
“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 
his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 
but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 
“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 
“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  
he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 
“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 
“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  
“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 
and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 
but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 
we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 
“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  
“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  
spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 
you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  
and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  
“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 
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Fitness Trainer
A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)
Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.
TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content
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And up... and down, just like that."
The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 
"One more, you can do one more for me."
"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 
"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."
He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 
“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”
The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.
You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 
You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 
You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 
Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 
“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 
You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 
Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 
His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 
He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”
You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 
You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.
“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 
“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 
You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 
“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”
Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 
“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 
“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 
He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 
“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.
“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 
It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 
Antoine shook your shoulders. 
“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”
“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.
“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 
“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 
“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”
The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 
“O-okay.. I guess..” 
He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 
He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 
“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 
You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 
“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 
“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”
You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.
The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 
“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.
With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 
But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 
“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 
You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 
“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.
Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 
“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 
Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 
“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 
“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 
You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!
Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 
Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 
His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 
He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 
Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 
His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 
 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 
Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 
Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 
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hurthermore · 1 day
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Alastor: Can you dance?
Reader: Ya, watch this- *proceeds to break dance*
Alastor: …Fascinating.
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jason trying to flirt and reader freaking out gives me life. (dw jason i bet she wants to kiss you too (if she doesnt i might))
When you hesitated to name a book, afraid of being mocked maybe. Or afraid to be vulnerable, Jason took a shot in the dark. Looking up at the shelves. Looking for something well loved. Something you'd keep where you could reach it whenever you wanted comfort. Something you held close to your heart. That you'd read and reread. Worn but not destroyed. Venerated. It would almost feel like something sacred.
Every lonely kid had that book.
And when he locked eyes on it, he smiled. He got up off the floor and walked across the room, aware that he was being watched. He could feel a prickle of warning. A crackle of anxiety tugging at him. And he forced himself to breathe. Yeah, it was a kiddie book. A whole set of them. But, you liked books with happy endings.
"Convert me?" Jason hummed, "I never really liked fairy tales."
"No?"
"It's kinda hard to worry about chivalry when you live like I did," he said sitting back down- suppressing a pang with difficulty. He hadn't thought about his mom and dad in a long time. He kept them buried. It was easier. To not remember the way cancer had a smell. And the way that without insurance drugs just managed the pain. And his dad drank because it hurt. And because it hurt and he drank he couldn't hold a job. And because he couldn't hold a job he just kept doing crimes.
Books had to have a point. Fairy tales and delicate little "girl books" felt ephemeral and frivolous. Austen. Shelley. Poe. Homer. Christie. All that had a point.
"I'm sorry-"
"It's alright," he said exhaling roughly. It wasn't about him. And when he felt you try to pull back, trembling from the strain he shook his head and sank to the floor. "Don't worry about me, okay. Not right now anyway."
"It hurts-"
"Sometimes," he admitted. "But if I read this for a while maybe I'll forget-"
"You can borrow-"
"I was going to read it to you," he mumbled, cheeks heating. He meant to just come in and start doing it. He'd hoped you'd just curl up with him and doze off.
"Oh."
"Is that okay?" he asked, not sure what to make of your reaction. Or your feelings. They're still a snarl- and mostly self-hatred.
"Yeah," you murmur. "Your voice is nice when you're not being mean."
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ellecdc · 2 days
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A Man with a Plan.7
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: angst, discussion of Black and Crouch shitty parenting, accidental attempted drowning/belief of drowning -> please note: there are always happy endings here on ellecdc
Amelia Bones didn’t like to think of herself as a particularly stupid girl, but she couldn’t deny she probably looked pretty foolish right now.
She was just about as pathetic as any school-aged girl got over their first crush – which was to say was very pathetic. The worst part of all of it was that she really sort of did this to herself.
She couldn’t deny that Remus had always been very clear that he was interested in nothing more than casual sex; he never invited her to breakfast, he never asked her out on dates, he never even invited her to parties. But that never stopped her from wanting those things.
And for a while, she was able to pretend it was fine.
She was able to pretend that when he didn’t kick her out of bed right away and allowed her to stay the night, that it meant he actually wanted her there. She was able to pretend that when he approached her at a party, it was because she had always been his first choice. She was able to pretend that when he grabbed her and rushed into a broom closet, it was because he just couldn’t stop thinking about her and needed her just as desperately as she needed him.
But she was only fooling herself.
And to add insult to injury, it appeared that Remus wasn’t completely averse to feelings, relationships, or dating; he just didn’t want that with her.
“And have you noticed how sweet he’s been on that freak L/N?” Shirley sneered from Amelia’s left as they all watched Remus smile sweetly at you and pass you a cup of something at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
“You should start offering palm readings, Amelia. Maybe then he’ll find you odd enough to keep around.” Added Silas, earning snickers from the entire friend group.
“Ha ha.” Amelia deadpanned, tossing her half-eaten toast onto the plate in front of her.
The bitter taste followed her around all day after that. She swore she could hear the sounds of Remus and his friends snickering all day, and if she happened to hear your serene voice echoing in the hallways, she knew that chances were that Remus wasn’t too far behind.
Remus was everywhere; and wherever she was able to avoid him – you seemed to show up. As you walked into the library in which Amelia was currently holed up in, she swore she was a thestrals hair away from using her quill to put herself out of her misery.
Amelia was able to see her friends from her current table but had opted to sit on her own in order to focus on the difficult Care of Magical Creatures essay, knowing that sitting with Silas would result in a rowdy game of gobstones in no time – library or not.
“Oi! L/N! What kind of voodoo spell did you cast on Lupin, huh?” Shirley called to the girl, earning her a round of snickers from the friend group. Amelia cringed, noting that you were currently alone and very clearly minding your own business.
“Hello Shirley.” You offered, albeit much less jovially than your usual sunny disposition.
“She asked you a question, freak.” Silas barked aggressively.
“Oh, leave her be.” Coraline chided in faux sympathy. “We all know she doesn’t have the attention span for voodoo practices; she’d need a brain larger than a goldfish for that.”
You looked away from the group who were now all belly laughing at your expense when your eyes met Amelia’s; her gaze already trained on you.
“Hello Amelia.” You said softly with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you approached her table. Amelia regarded you cautiously, though she hated to admit that she found it extremely difficult to feel defensive in your presence.
“Hi Y/N.” Amelia sighed, looking back down to her textbook.
“Have you gotten far on the essay?” You asked kindly, peering over Amelia’s textbook. She really wanted to be vexed at your intrusion in her studies, at her table, in her life, but she found she really couldn’t muster the effort.
“No... I, uhm. I’m finding this quite difficult, honestly. I’ve still got a foot of parchment to go.” She admitted begrudgingly. You hummed in agreement.
“It likely doesn’t help that it requires an understanding of the mating habits of the frost snails, which we haven’t covered in class.”
Amelia’s head snapped up to consider you. “Really?”
You nodded.
“Helga...I thought I had lost the plot! I was certain I had missed something in class to feel this lost.” Amelia admitted looking back down at her parchment feeling slightly elated to know that she at least wasn’t a complete fool in this area of her life.
“You can find everything you need to know on page 246; the rest of your paper should come along nicely.” You offered, smiling kindly at her. Amelia was sort of annoyed at the pleasant feeling that you elicited from her, but again she couldn’t muster up the energy to be particularly vexed.
“Thank you, Y/N. I would have been quite lost without your help.” She relented.
Your smile grew at that as you stood taller, preparing to walk away. “Oh, I’m sure you would have managed just fine Amelia. You’re quite the witch, you know.”
And with that, you floated away.
Amelia supposed that if there was anyone in this school who would be able to convince Remus Lupin to break all of his rules, you’d be a shoo-in.
Amelia decided then that it was actually quite an honour to have ‘lost’ to a witch like you.
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Remus felt silly wandering the grounds in search of you. If he was a man of more restraint, he would try harder to control himself; but he decided there was no use in denying Moony, or himself, of you.
Thankfully for your part, you didn’t seem to mind all that much.
Remus’ life had been flipped upside down twice recently: once when he found out about his soulmate bond, and again when he came clean to you about his lycanthropy. He found he felt... freer, safer, grounded if that made any sense at all.
And though his regular anxiety surrounding the full moons seemed to lessen, his anxiety surrounding you seemed to grow each day the closer he got to the full. It was almost as if Moony was convinced he could feel every beat of your heart – it sped up momentarily, something upset you, you’re catching your breath, you’ve fallen asleep – and though Remus felt incredibly disturbed and admittedly creepy to be capable of assessing all of these things from Merlin knows how far away, it brought Moony immense comfort to be able to sense you safe.
He tried not to overwhelm you with his constant presence as Moony (and begrudgingly, himself) would much prefer, but with the full moon approaching, Remus decided it was better for everyone not to fight the urge to be close.
Remus had (quite embarrassingly) searched the entire castle for you to no avail and had even resorted to asking Regulus (who was accompanied by Barty) if he knew where you were.
Barty had scoffed at him. “Figures you wouldn’t be privy to her schedule yet, Lupin.” He sneered, emphasising his last name as if it were a dirty word.
Regulus rolled his eyes at his friend and let out a sigh. “She goes down to the Black Lake every afternoon to bring a gift to the mermaids, Lupin. Now if you don’t mind, I find Barty to be far more pleasant company when he’s not whining about people dressed in red and gold.”
Well, Remus didn’t have to be told twice. Moony was very excited to leave his present company to find ‘MINE!’.
Remus was admittedly not a huge fan of the moniker Moony had chosen for you, but he was very tired of arguing with The Wolf.
As Regulus had promised, Remus finally found you crouched down at the edge of the dock on the Black Lake, tracing shapes into the water’s surface with your hands.
Perfect. Good. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Remus couldn’t exactly disagree with the sentiment.
You were alerted to Remus’ presence by the wooden planks shifting below his feet.
“Hello Remus!” You cheered in that gentle and serene way of yours; Remus couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.
“Hello Y/N, what are you up to?” He asked as he stood above you. You began to squint up at him and Remus quickly shifted over in order to shield your eyes from the sun.
“I’ve been trying to befriend the mermaids.” You explained, returning your gaze down to the water. “Each day I try to bring them trinkets.”
Remus hummed in acknowledgement and crouched down beside you ignoring the burning sensation in his knees. “What kind of trinkets?”
You hummed in thought before you answered. “I think anything shiny works well. Sometimes if I’ve lost the pair to an earring, I’ll bring it to them. Or crystals and gems are nice too.”
“And what do you get for your efforts?”
You turned to consider Remus bemusedly; your brows were furrowed but you were still smiling, nonetheless. “Do you only ever do things for the sake of a potential outcome, Remus?”
Remus figured he ought to feel properly chastised, but he was just too happy to be talking to you in order to do much about it. “I guess so.”
You hummed and assessed his face before turning back to the water. “Do you often feel disappointed?”
“I feel like we’ve already determined that my planning skills are not conducive to success, no?”
You smiled to yourself at that as you continued playing with the water. “It’s true that I’ve set out with a goal to befriend the mermaids. But whether or not they return that friendship, I will have succeeded.”
“Wouldn’t you think that you’d have better luck from in the water?” He queried, causing your lips to purse as you let out a disappointed sound.
“Perhaps; if I knew how to swim, I’d certainly try.”
Moony reared his big old head again at that, and Remus quickly stood and gently helped you stand and pulled you closer to the middle of the dock, away from the edge you’d been inhabiting.
You giggled at him; the first real spontaneous emotion he thinks he had ever heard from you, and it caused Remus’ heart rate to speed up double time.
“You needn’t worry, Remus.” You expressed solemnly. “I’m very careful.”
And for that, he and Moony were glad.
“Where are you headed now?” He asked instead, hoping to begin steering you away from the Lakes edge and towards solid ground.
He could tell by the subtle lift at the corners of your lips that you had caught onto him, but were gracious enough not to call him on it.
“I believe I’m to meet Bartemus and Regulus in the Slytherin dungeons for a bit.” You admitted, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose and Moony to growl in protest.
So many of the words you had used in that sentence were displeasing to Remus, but you were willingly stepping off the dock and walking towards the castle with him, so he didn’t feel he had any right to complain. 
“What are you headed to now?” You asked in turn, catching Remus off guard.
What was he going to do now? The only thing he’d planned on doing was finding you, and he’d done that.
“You know; I’m not sure.” He admitted.
You chuckled at him and began telling him about Barty and Regulus’ plans for the afternoon; and although he was displeased at the content, he was very pleased listening to the sound of your voice.
He hadn’t realised he’d been subconsciously leaning into you or brushing your hand with his until you confidently yet gently took his hand in yours and continued to lament about Barty’s poor study habits without missing a beat.
Remus found himself feeling very lucky to have you as his soulmate.
Remus’ feeling of luck ran out quickly when he found himself stepping down the last stair into the Slytherin dungeon to figuratively hand you off to your friends. 
You must have noticed Remus’ hesitation to let you go when you gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled kindly at him. “Perhaps we can meet in the library after supper? I have a Care of Magical Creatures essay to edit.”
And Remus was certain that was a lie; he was quite sure you were long done that essay, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“That’d be very nice.” He agreed.
“Alright, alright, Lupin. Move along, would you?” Barty grumbled as he made his way over; Regulus rolled his eyes at his friend and actually offered Remus a somewhat apologetic expression.
“Barty.” You chided lightly with a smile. “Be nice, yeah?”
Barty grumbled petulantly, muttering “that was me being nice.” But he acquiesced to your request in the form of keeping his mouth shut until Remus had ascended the stairs.
True to your word, you approached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall when you were finished eating with a kind smile on your face.
Unfortunately for poor Moony (Remus), your presence led to questions from James, who, upon hearing you were working on edits for the essay in Care of Magical Creatures, insisted he join (seeing as he hadn’t even started it yet). Of course, not one to ever be left out, Sirius was quick to offer to join.
And since Remus, James, and Sirius were all going to be in the library, Peter figured he may as well tag along. 
Though Remus was feeling rather petulant about the final attendance of your study date, Moony was feeling very chuffed about his whole pack being together.
He forced Moony to lie down and be quiet as he listened to you try to help James with his essay (read: pretty much write it for him). 
Remus was surprised how well you seemed to settle into his group of friends, and in turn, how his friends seemed to settle around you. 
James seemed to be able to sit still for a longer period of time if it was you he was conversing with, Sirius seemed less inclined to argue with everyone about everything, and Peter seemed far more comfortable in asking you follow up questions than he was with anyone else the group had spoken with before.
Unfortunately, things didn’t seem to want to go smoothly for Remus today. 
The sound of your name being called over and over and over again in a hushed tone interrupted your sentence on why the mating cycle of frost snails was dependent on the growth pattern of shrivelfig fruit as Barty came rushing over.
“I’m sorry,” he started breathlessly, surprising the absolute fuck out of Remus. “I forgot to tell you earlier; I got a letter.”
Remus watched as your face turned grave; your expression far more severe than he’d ever seen it before.
“Did you burn it?” You asked darkly.
“Not yet.” Barty admitted.
“Bartemus.” You chided quietly, looking like your heart was breaking a little bit.
“Merlin; do you really need Y/N to check your mail for you, Junior? Couldn’t this wait until later?” Sirius grumbled, never looking up from his own Runes translations he was currently working on.
Remus was surprised he didn’t hear your neck snap with the speed at which you turned your attention away from Barty and back to the table where you glared severely at Sirius.
“Sorry Treasure.” Barty commented quietly, patting your shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Before he left the library.
Remus felt his heart drop…no…he felt your heart drop as you turned to watch Barty disappear behind the stacks in the library. 
“Sirius Black.” You began quietly, causing all the boys to cringe at the use of his full name. “Tell me; how do you usually feel after receiving a letter from your father?”
You had once again returned your attention back to the black-haired boy, but any of the softness and serenity that the boys were used to seeing when it came to you was nowhere to be found. 
Sirius didn’t seem to have an answer for you as his eyes darted nervously between his friends. 
“Is your father kind? Loving? Understanding? Does he tell you he’s proud of you? That he’s glad to have you as his son? That it’s an honour to share his name with you?”
“No.” Sirius finally said quietly. 
“And who helps you with that?” You asked. “When you had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to; who helped you with that?”
Remus heard Sirius swallow around what was likely a growing lump in his throat. “James.”
“Then call me James, Sirius.” You said emphatically, standing and beginning to pack your things.
“Wait, dove. Where are you going?” Remus started reaching out a tentative hand to rest on your wrist.
You slowed your movements but didn’t stop. “I have a Sirius to comfort, and a fire ritual to perform.” You explained simply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
And with that, you turned and disappeared into the rows of books.
“Way to go, Pads.” James grumbled as he began organising his half-written parchment. “You managed to upset a perpetually happy person, and now I’ll never finish this essay.” 
“Well how am I supposed to know everything about that crazy bastard?” Sirius finally blurted out defensively. 
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage, brother?” The voice of Regulus Black drawled as he stepped out from behind the stacks. 
“Make it a habit of spying, brother?” Sirius sneered back. “Tell me; was it my conversations you were concerned with, or Juniors?”
Remus watched as Regulus’ jaw tightened minutely as he seemed to consider his next words.
“I’m not telling you this for your own sake, nor for Barty’s. But, if Y/N is important to any of you, there are some things you ought to know.” He started.
Yes. Important. Mine. Important. Moony chanted, sitting at attention.
“You know the fire that was caused by a magical experiment that went wrong a few years ago in Ottery St. Catchpole? That was Y/N’s house. Both her parents died in that fire.”
James’ head reared back as Sirius sucked in an uncomfortable breath. 
“She lives there with an elderly house elf as her only family. The house elf and Barty.”
“Junior lives with Y/N?” Remus asked quickly; too quickly. He was immediately embarrassed.
“Junior lives with Y/N.” Regulus parrotted. “You know, Sirius, the Black’s aren’t the only family who practice Unforgiveables on their children.”
Regulus seemed to allow that to sit in the air for a moment before he continued.
“And you aren’t the only one who needed a friend to run to.”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Sirius admitted, though he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with his brother.
“I don’t think you are, Sirius. I think you’re feeling properly chastised, and have no qualms painting Barty as the villain in every story all because of the school colours he happens to wear. You were so upset when our family accused you of being sorted into the wrong house, but you are the one who continues to view houses as wrong.”
Sirius looked up at his brother at that. “I am sorry, Reg. I didn’t know.” He admitted earnestly. 
“I’d thought that maybe…maybe out of everyone, you’d understand him the best… he reminds me a lot of you, you know. Stop - don’t look at me like that.”
“Reggie, I am trying, but you’re pushing your luck here.” Sirius groaned.
“I just wanted to let you know.” Regulus continued, though he seemed to be saying that to Remus. “Y/N is wonderful. And accepting, and understanding, and wholesome, and open minded. But she will protect her own. If Evans has to learn to put up with the lot of you for the sake of Potter, you’re going to have to figure out how to put up with me and Barty, because I can assure you that Barty isn’t going anywhere.”
Hearing Regulus’ message for what it truly was, Remus made a mental note:
Do not come between you and Barty.
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You found the weather to be quite refreshing today as you made your way to the edge of the Black Lake. 
You felt poorly for Bartemus; you didn’t understand what the point of Crouch Senior continuing to write to his estranged son was, or what  he sought to accomplish.
Perhaps it was just to upset Barty, which upset you even more.
But, you’d performed the “fire sacrifice” as Barty often called it, and burned some white sage to cleanse the energy after disposing of the horrid letter.
And today was a new day. 
There were hardly any clouds in the sky, the grounds were quiet as most students were still in class whilst you had a free period, and Barty had offered you a family heirloom to offer the mermaids today.
You had no sooner lost sight of the Crouch signet ring as it sank to the depths of the Black Lake when the sun in the sky was blocked from behind you. 
You turned to see the figures of Silas, Shirley, and Coraline from Hufflepuff standing over you.
“I know you said she had a brian the size of a goldfish, Coraline, but it seems she rather wants to be a goldfish.” Shirley commented with a malicious smile.
“Returning home to the Grindylow’s, L/N?” Silas jeered. 
Your mother always told you to ignore the mean words; to smile and stay kind when people got mean. 
“What?” Coraline cooed in faux sympathy. “Kneazle got your tongue?”
“You better start talking, witch, because the way I see it; you’ve hurt one of ours.” Silas barked.
“Hurt?” You asked as you stood up, trying to sift through memories of your recent interactions with Hufflepuffs only to come up empty.
“Don’t play dumb; you totally stole Lupin right out from under Amelia.” Coraline explained.
Your heart fell; you certainly hadn’t meant to do that, you hadn’t even realised they were together. You never meant to hurt Amelia, and you were sure Remus must just hate you for this if it was true. 
“Amelia is twice the witch you are; Lupin deserves better than some ditzy airhead.” Shirley spat at you.
Amelia certainly was a nice witch; she was competent, powerful, and quite pretty. She was normal too, not like you; you were odd, a freak. 
“Why do you think he was spending all that time with Amelia when you two first started talking? He didn’t want you, L/N.” Coraline stressed.
He didn’t want you.
That was perhaps true. He didn’t choose this soulmate bond; and he didn’t choose you.
He had seemed more than disturbed in the beginning.
Perhaps he was only being nice to you now because he was simply no longer resisting the bond.
No one should have to live like that; to live their life out of force and obligation. Not Sirius, not Regulus, not Barty, and certainly not Remus.
“I don’t think you heard me.” Silas said as he took a menacing step towards you, and he punctuated every word with a sharp jab of his finger into your shoulder. “Stay. Away. From Lupin.”
And then he used his whole body to shove you backwards, and you were plummeting into the cold dark water of the Black Lake.
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taglist: @hanniejji , @y0urm0m12 , @c0nsc10usworld , @aphrcdites , @starsval , @thepunisherfrankcastle , @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader , @klazina-couch-potato , @cancelledkaley , @ttulipwritezz , @boo8008 , @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo , @frostooo , @myriadmoons , @aremuslupinsimp , @simars3 , @stargurl99 , @dreamingofts18 , @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface , @agent-tempest , @xxrougefangxx , @serenadingtigers , @adhxmoony , @hufflepufffangirlqueen , @thebiggestnaturaldisaster , @urmomw4ntsme , @b4tm4nn , @jamieolivia27 , @stqrgirlies-blog , @loving-and-dreaming
347 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 2 days
Note
What if I were to ask Kiritsubo to bend down a little and I stood on my tippy toes and gave him a surprise forehead smooch
Not much of a surprise since I needed him to bend down but I have the intent so it counts
This confuses the boy greatly. (He’s going to giggle himself to sleep thinking about it again and again)
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246 notes · View notes
moonydustx · 3 days
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how they would react to F!Reader saying she's pregnant but with Shanks, Rayleigh and Law?
Oi oi! Turu bem? Vou deixar até o comecinho da resposta em português porque sim hahahahah primeiro, obrigada pelo pedido e segundo, eu acho que me empolguei escrevendo de novo, sou inimiga do resumo. O do Ray acho que pode ter ficado um pouco confuso porque tentei usar as duas eras (como pode ele ser tãão saborosíssimo toda vez que aparece, af). Mas é isso, obrigadão e espero que goste <3
And here’s the translation of the day: Hey Hey! How are you? I'll even leave the beginning of the answer in portuguese because yes hahahahah (for those who don't understand PT-BR, I discovered that the requester is brazilian like me) firstly, thank you for the request and secondly, I think I got carried away writing again. I think Ray's might have been a little confusing because I tried to use both eras (how can he be so delicious every time he appears, haha). But that's it, thank you and I hope you like it <3
Oh, and hello @badlandsx! I'm tagging you here because I saw your request about Law, but don't worry, I'll soon write the other part that you also requested. Thank you <3
requests open | one piece masterlist (other pregnancy stories are here)
Warnings are place individually in each story.
Rayleigh
Warnings: mentions of new and old Ray, like I said I love them both. Buggy and Shanks kids are one of my favorite things about Roger's era, so we have them here. Mention to F!Reader being an herbalist. Brief not-so-canonical mention of Sabaody's arc.
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Acid temperament, answers on the tip of the tongue, a captivating smile. Rayleigh didn't have much of an option but to fall in love at first sight when you two bumped into each other in a random bar on a random island. It didn't matter anymore when he managed to convince you to be part of the crew. Your knowledge of herbs and medicines was just an excuse he used to get the captain to accept - and Roger knew Silvers Rayleigh enough to know it was just a pretext for you to get on board.
It didn't take long for the glances exchanged and toasts proposed to turn into hidden moments at Oro Jackson, kisses stolen when others weren't looking, that turned into a golden ring around your finger. Now, such moments had turned into a new life being generated in you.
"You should stay less agitated for now, please." Crocus asked. You had come up with a lame excuse for him to stay on the ship with you while the others had disembarked. "By my reckoning, these are still the first few months, it's the most sensitive period. Any more aggressive activity can bring risks."
"You will die?" Buggy's squeaky voice caught the two of you's attention. When you found the spot where the boy was hiding, you saw Shanks cover his companion's mouth.
"Nothing like that, come here." you leaned on the counter, calling out to the two who soon stopped in front of you. "How much of our conversation did you hear?"
"That you don't really know what to do, and that you need to be less agitated and that you're sensitive." Shanks took the lead, listing, Buggy came further behind, eyes attentive to your every movement.
The two boys already saw you almost as a motherly figure, always trying to hide and lean on you whenever they got into trouble, of course they would be scared to hear such loose information.
"I'll trust you two, but I want you both to keep your mouth shut." you bent down to his level. "I'm pregnant, but it's too early for anyone to know, okay?"
"Pregnant?" they both screamed and you covered their mouths. Further behind you, Crocus was deliberately laughing at the two boys' reactions. "Does that mean it's the baby that's hurting you?" Buggy completed.
"No one was hurt." the doctor took the lead, explaining to both of them. "A pregnant woman requires more care and is also more sensitive. Well, you knowing this can be of great help."
"What do you mean by that?" Just like you, the boys seemed to have doubt written all over their faces.
"Someone here loves to get into trouble, until Rayleigh finds out and can keep an eye on you, you two are responsible for it. No fights, no crazy adventures, no almost anything." the man laughed when he saw your indignant expression.
"I promise to keep her and the baby safe." Shanks puffed out his chest, taking pride in what he had said.
"What? I promise more than him." Buggy grumbled.
"As long as you both promise to keep quiet, that's fine with me."
When the two youngest saluted, you knew you were screwed.
It was difficult to disguise such a situation when in the following days the two of them became your shadow. The only time you could see yourself alone was going to the bathroom. If you went to your little corner to work, one of the two would be sitting next to you, following everything you explained to them - since they were there, they would learn something. In day-to-day tasks, one of them always set out to do his part. Rayleigh was already finding their little movement strange, but he knew how attached you were to both of them, so it wasn't something that bothered him.
"I'm going to take advantage of the fact that it's our last day here and I'm going to go down to the village, I need to get some materials." you announced. "Does anyone need anything?"
"Everything's fine here." Gaban warned and one by one, the other companions agreed.
"Wait!" a panting Buggy ran across the boat. "I'll go with you."
"Get out you fool, I'll go." Shanks shouted from the other side.
"Come on, the three of you, what do you think?" you suggested, before his little fight escalated.
"You two don't think you're stealing much of my wife's attention, do you?" Rayleigh proposed, seeing the two swallow hard and deny it. "Alright, enjoy the little walk."
It was supposed to be a quick visit to the island, if the boys didn't decide to start trouble with one of the sellers, you got in the middle and now you were lying on your ass on the floor - in the pushing and shoving, there ended up being a push for you while arguing with the seller . Before you could calm the boys down, you saw them running towards the ship, shit.
Rayleigh's attention was stolen when he saw the two crew members rushing into the Oro Jackson. Buggy burst into tears and insults directed at his friend, while Shanks seemed to be looking for someone specific. You, however, were not with them. It didn't take much to connect the facts.
"Where is she?" He approached the kids, completely ignoring them. "What happened?"
"A tragedy." Buggy, dramatically, started crying even more.
"You idiot! We can't tell them anything." Shanks poked Buggy, who immediately retaliated with a push.
"Crocus said we should keep an eye on her and now she's fallen and is going to die!"
"She fell?" Rayleigh was already impatient with their drama, unable to find any connection in their grumbling. "Explain this properly."
"It was just a fall, nothing big." the redhead tried to alleviate the situation.
"Boys, it was just a fall, she's definitely gotten herself into bigger trouble." Roger laughed, watching the two boys pushing each other.
"I don't want to know. Where's Crocus?" Buggy grumbled, ignoring the captain's own laughter and his friend's false calm temperament.
"What kind of fall was that for you two to be so worried about?" Rayleigh held out his hands, pushing the two boys apart by their foreheads.
"This idiot went looking for a fight." Shanks tried to reach the clown, stopped by the first mate's hand.
"And this idiot who doesn't know how to keep his tongue in his mouth." Buggy fought back, only hitting the air.
"First she said we were supposed to be quiet."
"You knock down a pregnant woman and I'm the one who has to stay quiet!" The words that came out of Buggy were able to provoke silence among the other pirates. "Shit!"
"She's going to kill us man."
"Where is she?" Crocus appeared, stopping in front of the boys and an astonished Rayleigh. "How did she fall? What's all that crying, Buggy?"
"Is she the pregnant woman?" Rayleigh asked in a much calmer tone than usual.
The hands were now no longer used to separate the boys, they just hung beside his body. Seeing the two kids swallow hard and look at each other, Rayleigh no longer needed any more answers.
"Rayleigh, Crocus go to her, now." Even with Roger's orders, Rayleigh was already heading in the direction of leaving the boat, not worrying about who would follow him.
Upon entering the village, it didn't take many steps for them to find you - only then did Rayleigh notice the doctor's presence. What was strange was finding you still lying on the floor, your elbows propped up to keep your face up while you were still arguing with the man in front of you. You didn't look hurt, you just looked mad at the man.
"It was just some herbs!" you shouted, excited.
"You idiot! If it was just some herbs, you should pay." the man shouted back.
Before you could respond, a body appeared in front of you and you didn't need much to recognize that it was your husband.
"What is happening?" his patient voice asked, looking at you over his shoulder. "I see that you seem to have problems with my wife."
"You see, she allowed two boys to steal herbs from my store."
"That is true?" he turned to you, finding a wry smile. Your permissiveness with the boys would still kill him. "How much does she owe you?"
The man spoke and almost as if predicting the problem, Crocus threw some coins to Rayleigh, who handed them to the man. A few seconds later, they were both around you.
"Did you get hurt?" the doctor asked, seeing your eyes dart from his to your husband's. "Buggy accidentally told him that little secret."
"Shit." your grumble was low, in a way you avoided looking at Rayleigh. "Maybe I spent my money buying some sweets for the three of us, but I needed those herbs too." you list, feeling your face burn with guilt and shame.
"Do you feel any pain?" Rayleigh asked, his voice almost forcing you to face him. Without finding words, you just denied it. "Great. Let's go back to the ship."
Crocus supported you by the waist and as soon as you stood up, you bitterly regretted having denied the question your husband had asked. The excruciating pain that shot up from your foot made you scream and fall forward, being held by Rayleigh.
"I was wrong, so wrong, what the hell." you grumbled, taking your aching foot off the ground. "It fucking hurts, it really hurts, Ray, do something." your teary eyes searched for his, who looked attentively in your direction.
"First I need you to calm down, sweetheart." he asked, wrapping his arm around you and providing even more support. "Crocus, what do we have?"
"Let me see." he bent down again, finding a swollen ankle. "It could just be a sprain or it could be broken, let's go back and that way I can see calmly."
"Go ahead, I'll take her."
The doctor took a few steps away and the two of you remained there for a few seconds, until Rayleigh took you in his arms and took you back to the ship. You knew he wanted to tell you something, but you also knew that that wasn't the appropriate place.
Before you could receive the necessary medical attention, you needed to calm both boys down. Maybe the explanation you and Crocus gave the two of them earlier had been too much for them to think that a little fight would bring you down. Rayleigh ushered them both out and closed the door behind him.
"When were you thinking of telling me?" he asked, still distant.
"To be honest, I still don't know." a light laugh escaped your lips. "They both found out by accident, hearing me talk to Crocus."
"I still can't believe those little idiots found out before me." his expression softened as he approached you.
"Are you mad at me?" His hands circled your waist, pulling you to the middle of the bed.
He gently created space for himself between your legs, taking care to place your bandaged ankle to the side. The fierce kisses this time were replaced by some caresses along your lap, some quick kisses on your lips.
"Furious?" His smile floated to your forehead, turning into a small kiss. "I just found out that the woman I love most is about to bear me a child. How can I be furious with such good news?"
His mouth once again met yours and despite the softness in which your tongues tangled, the gentle touch of his hand sliding down your side - curious fingers floating over the fabric on your belly - before your dress found a different path than your body, a small external noise caught the attention of both of you.
"Sure." Rayleigh pulled away just enough, allowing you to still feel his breath against yours. "You know it's Roger who's waiting, don't you?"
"Yeah." you laughed, seeing him groan as he let go of you.
"And that he's about to come out screaming with joy" he asked again and you nodded, trying to adjust yourself in bed and hide any evidence of what was about to happen.
Rayleigh barely opened the wooden door and Roger followed by other companions entered, a smile from ear to ear.
"A child!" He pulled you from the bed, hugging you tightly. "Another crewmate for us! This is incredible, get ready today we're going to drink, we're going to celebrate."
"Oi! She can't drink." Rayleigh pointed out and saw Roger let go of you a little and then hug you tightly again.
"Then let's eat, eat a lot. I'm going to order an incredible feast!"
If before your concern was to escape the needy and attentive claws of Buggy and Shanks, now the two boys seemed to have found company. Your other companions - being practically led by Rayleigh made you feel adorable all the time. Even with your hormones screaming at the top of your skin, even with all the strange desires and the constant need to be attached to your husband, everyone seemed to be ready and happy to see you pregnant. Rayleigh felt proud and a little overprotective of you, no wonder, since you had already returned to the boat covered in blood that didn't belong to you just because someone had tried to rob you or when you almost convinced Roger to loot a village because you wanted cakes from a bakery that was closed when you docked. You still preferred to stick to your herbs, but that didn't mean you were harmless.
Little Arthur came into the world calmly and quickly, as if everything was meticulously planned for him to arrive on that peaceful afternoon. Even though you were still uncomfortable and tired after giving birth, you couldn't contain your laughter when you saw the two youngest members of the crew fighting over who would pick up the little one first. Knowing the affection and care attached to you, you proudly allowed the two of you to carry the title of little Arth's uncles - provoking yet another argument over who was the favorite.
The bonds between you and Rayleigh became even tighter after the birth of Arth and, shortly after, little Dalia. A few years after the gang broke up and Roger was executed and on that day, you and your husband stepped back from the role of parents and allowed yourselves to cry on each other's shoulders. The tears of pain at the loss of Roger soon turned to missing your eldest son, a fruit doesn't fall far from the tree and of course, Arth never let you two tell him everything you knew, he would find a crew so that together they could find the One Piece.
The door to your house opened and you saw a familiar face enter. A mother knows very well what each child's traits could bring and when you saw an almost identical copy of Rayleigh rush through the door, you knew it was your boy back. He had finally found a crew - one that carried a straw hat familiar to the one you knew.
"What?" the voice of his companions shouted in unison as Rayleigh properly introduced the two of you.
"You mean you know everything?" Usopp turned to Arth, who just shook his head. "Oh, that's a lot of information at once."
"We never told him anything." you explained, holding your third child in your arms, a girl who had just turned four years old.
"You said your parents were pirates, but you never specified which ones." Luffy pointed out, his mouth full of food.
"My parents already had their time, now they have other priorities." Arth took little Lure from you, the girl's laugh echoed throughout the room. "Just like this little one here."
"You only have these two children?" Nami asked, interested in the difference between you and Rayleigh to the white-haired child.
"In fact, only Dalia and Arth were born to me. Ray saved our little Lure from being sold to those damn nobles. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to save her family, but we took it upon ourselves to take care of her."
"And Dalia is also a pirate?"
"Not for now, but she's on an island with some of our friends, training." you simply informed, seeing that Arth had understood the message.
That same day, you saw your son disappear before your eyes, into the hands of the tyrant Kuma. Luffy looked desolate and you followed suit, both screams echoing through the damp Sabaody forest. Only when Rayleigh managed to drag you back home did you understand that your boy would be far away, safer and according to Kuma himself, with someone you both would trust with your eyes closed.
Almost two years have passed since Rayleigh took on a mission and left you alone on the island, taking care of what was left behind.
"Father?" Lure's voice caught your attention. At the door, Rayleigh crouched down, waiting for the white-haired girl to jump towards him.
"My sweetie you are so huge!" he let the girl hang onto him, filling the top of her head with kisses. "If I took a little longer, you'd be bigger than me."
"I missed you so much." she clung to Rayleigh, who was walking towards you. "Mommy too."
"I bet she felt it too." With one of his free hands, he circled your waist, lightly kissing your lips. "I hope two of my favorite girls are okay."
"Dad, did you know that Uncle Duval asked Mom to stay with him?" The girl laughed at the little gossip told, earning a reprimanding look from you, even if it was a joke.
"Uncle Duval, hm? I'll have a little talk with him." Rayleigh placed her on the floor, yet the girl remained there beside you, paying attention to everything.
"Just a friend of the Straw Hats, we took care of Sunny while you were gone. I even tried to start the plating, but I'd rather focus on my teas." You explained, allowing yourself to hug him completely. "How are things over there?"
"By things, do you talk about our Dalia?"
"Perhaps." the passive tone in your voice became even calmer when your face was buried in his chest. "I miss my little girl."
"She promised to come soon and she's doing great, she's been one of Kikyo's right-hand men. She's so strong, you'll be proud." he felt you nod against his skin, the distance of two years seemed too far for a quick hug to satisfy. "Want to know about Arth?"
"Have you heard from him?"
"Is little brother Arth coming?" Lure clung to Rayleigh's leg, watching her father. Even without the blood connection, the black king found it comical to say the least how similar you two had become.
"Not yet, my dear. And I haven't heard from him exactly, but rather where he is." Rayleigh began to explain, meeting your curious eyes. "I only received a small note."
He took it out and handed you the small crumpled paper. The tranquility that had been missing for two years invaded you as you read each word.
I hope this reaches you and your wife, Rayleigh-san. Knowing her, I believe she is distraught over Arth's disappearance. He has been training with me and I promise that I will keep that old promise to keep him safe. No clumsy clowns this time.
Shanks.
Shanks
warnings: F!Reader and Shanks don't have a fixed relationship at the beginning of the story, F!Reader has a restaurant. Maybe wrong use of haki, brief spicier section and brief mentions of childbirth. Shanks is an adorable girl dad here. Emony, in some language that I don't remember, is a name related to treasure.
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"When are you going to go to sea with me?"
That question had already been repeated countless times every day that Shanks decided to stop at your restaurant. He always made up a little excuse that his crew was hungry and that no other place in that city would be able to fulfill his orders. He repeated every time you served dishes wearing the apron he said made you look amazing, every time he convinced you to stop working for a bit and share a dish with him, every time he was on top of you. you on the bed, as you asked for more and more.
However, every time the answer was the same.
"Give me a good reason red-haired, one other than me ending up in your bed, and I will."
You had already lost track of the times he did this, that he asked and you refused, that you shared hours together and the next morning he left you to return a few months later. This time however, it was difficult to lose track of time, as with each passing day, you discovered a change in your body. It started with irritability, then the aching body, nausea and finally, the positive test on your hand and your shocked family right behind you.
The whole city already knew that you were the redhead's favorite person and at that point, no one dared to mess with you or insinuate anything. Knowing how quickly rumors could spread, you chose to keep it a secret until it became impossible. The secret only lasted four months before his jolly roger appears on the horizon. Already knowing the routine he used to have on the island, you prepared yourself to soon find him entering the door.
"Finally, my favorite cook." his voice hit you before you even saw him. "Long time no see you."
"Yeah, it's been a while." out of habit, you allowed his hand to hug your waist, but you tried not to tighten yourself too much in his embrace.
"Everything is fine?" he asked, noticing your more distant behavior.
"Yeah, it's just been a busy day. What can I get you guys?"
"What's good on the menu today?" Lucky Roux asked, his typical piece of meat at hand had already reached its end.
"A fish stew, we also have some pies. Did you bring any new recipes for me?" You reached out to him.
Since the first time you met the red-haired pirates, you and him had gotten along well and the little deal was that he would always bring new recipes and in return, he was the only one who didn't pay at your family's restaurant.
"Spicy noodles and oysters with honey." he stretched out the two papers in his hand. "Two recipes, two dishes."
"Okay, you win. Anyone else want some stew?" the men piled in, affirming yes. Before you could leave, you felt Shanks' hand grab yours.
"Wait a second." a chill passed through your body as his eyes analyzed you. "You look different, I don't know. It's like you're even more beautiful."
"Don't give me those cheap lines, redhead." you warned in your playful tone. "A stew for you too?"
"The day I deny this could rip my other arm off."
Like the other times they appeared there, Shanks and the others stayed almost the entire day. Much of the food at that point had already been replaced by drinks, which forced you to practically dodge the glasses that were offered to you.
The restaurant was already empty, even your brothers who used to help you had already left, leaving you alone with the leftover dishes and tables to organize for the next day.
"It doesn't seem very gentlemanly to me to leave a lady alone." Again, just like that afternoon, you saw Shanks enter the door, ignoring the "closed" sign.
"You don't need to worry about me, I'll sort it out in a few minutes." You gave your best smile, seeing that he wasn't convinced.
"Then I can help you solve something else."
Not giving you much room to deny it or to at least try to address the issue that was hovering between the two of you, Shanks revoked his right over your mouth. Amidst the scattered tables and trying to turn off the light in the room so as not to attract so much attention, you went unnoticed by his hands taking off your apron and immediately undoing the buttons on your t-shirt. When the piece became a small puddle of fabric on the floor next to your apron and Shanks slid his hand down your torso, you realized that he had indeed noticed.
"What is that?" his voice was low, even though there were just the two of you there.
"I think you're smarter than that, redhead." you tried to alleviate the situation, seeing that it had been in vain.
"It's mine?" His eyes met yours, his serious expression made chills run up your body. Shanks was adorable, one of the kindest people you'd ever served at your restaurant, but he was still a pirate. "Hey, look at me, is it mine?"
"What do you think?" you responded immediately, seeing him take a few steps back. "I found out a few weeks after you left here last time, so far it's been easy to hide with dresses and aprons, but it looks like it won't last long."
"So it's mine?" he insisted, making you huff in frustration.
"The last time you came here, I remember you making me scream a few times that I was yours. I am a woman of my word, there is no one else who is the father of this baby but you."
His expression soon contorted from something serious to a slight smile that turned into a loud laugh. His hand found your face, stroking it with some delicacy.
"You told me you needed a good reason to leave with me." he started, seeing you already look disbelieved. "And no, I don't want you just in my bed. I want you by my side, forever. I want you to leave with me so I can make you my wife. To make you the mother of all my children." his hand reached down and caressed the bump on your belly. "This explains so much."
"So much, tomato head?" You let your hand rest on top of his, enjoying the affection.
"Your bad mood when you saw my face or you refusing to drink with me." He approached, pressing his face to yours. "You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."
"Shanks…"
"Please say yes."
He used that entire night to convince you to go on board with him and the next morning to help you pack your bags and head to his ship. When the other companions saw your face, they were in disbelief for a while until the true reason for your presence was explained, to everyone's delight.
For a moment, it was too much information for your head, learning a little about the life of a pirate, understanding what Shanks was like as a captain and the changes in your body seemed too much for you. It wasn't surprising that you had practically hijacked the ship's kitchen all to yourself and it was very common to find you in the early hours of the morning, up to something.
"What's the recipe for today, mummy?" Shanks appeared, his face still crumpled indicating that he had just woken up from a good sleep.
"A cake, that's all." you just responded, feeling him press himself behind you and slide his hand over your big eight-month-old belly.
"And what's the name of the cake?" He leaned over your shoulder, still caressing you. "Is it "I'm worried about my baby's future." or "The baby woke me up by kicking me in the ribs"?
"How do you know that?" you laughed, taking some of the still raw dough for him to taste.
"Delicious." he muttered before he could follow up on any thoughts. "Daddy's Haki. I always know what's going on with my baby."
"Oh, of course." you laughed and immediately felt the same pain that had gotten you out of bed a few hours ago and had been recurring in the last few moments. You knew what it was, you just wanted to enjoy the time you still had with your baby inside.
"Honey?" Shanks asked as he saw you lean your body against his and groan in pain. "My love, what is it?"
"Didn't daddy's haki help you this time?" you tried to laugh but the pain hit you again. Before you could continue your sequence of laments, you felt your dress and as a result of the proximity, Shanks got wet.
"No, it didn't help, it's happening now, isn't it? Hongo!" he started screaming, trying to pick you up.
"Shanks, what if…" your eyes moistened with anxiety and accumulated tears. "What if I'm a terrible mother? What if nothing works? What if I can't bring our baby into the world?"
"There's no what if." he pointed out, gently pulling your chin. "Look at me, we're going to bring our first child into the world and everything will be fine. Come on, it's time to meet our baby."
Emony was born after long hours of labor. The small tuft of red hair was identical to Shanks's and her cry was celebrated by the entire ship who had woken up with your screams of pain and with Shanks running back and forth behind Hongo.
The girl was a little copy of her father, from her red hair to her attitude, which made you constantly laugh - after all, at the age of five she had already declared that she was going after One Piece alone when you two gave her a little scolding for her coming out of hiding during a fight you were involved in. You should also anticipate that the girl's strength would be derived from her father and not hers. A break on an island meant having the two of you spotted by enemy pirates while you were taking a walk with little Emony. After trying to escape and fight, you both ended up surrendering, you were on your knees, a gun against your head and little Emony was lifted by the collar of her dress.
"My daddy is going to finish you off, your shit" she declared, trying to kick the man, completely in vain.
"Will he really do that?" the man teased her, seeing the girl become even more nervous. "I'll be waiting for."
"You know this is his territory, what do you want on this island?" you asked and felt the gun being pressed even more against your head.
"Take it away from my mommy!!" Emony screamed and you felt something different in the air.
The man who was pointing the gun at you fell, fainted, as did the other men who accompanied the pirate. Their captain let out a loud laugh, pressing his hand even tighter against Emony's dress.
"Haki? At such a young age?"
"Mommy!" the girl jolted towards you, seeing you get up and walk towards her.
"I suggest you take your rotten hands off my daughter." Shanks' voice came from behind the man.
By dodging a little, you can see the crew approaching. Benn was already pointing a gun, almost glued to the head of the tyrant who had his hands on your little Emony.
"This here?" he shook the girl dismissively, turning to face Shanks. "You know, lately the navy has been investing a lot of money in Yonko's children." the man threatened, a stupid smile adorning his lips. "What's your offer for the brat?"
"Lucky, Yassop?" Shanks just signed. "You guys take my girls inside."
Without waiting for the man to respond, the redhead punched him in the face and before Emony could reach the ground, Lucky caught her. The two of you were taken inside a small store, where some vendors offered water and a place to calm down.
"Where are my girls?" Shanks' voice reached the two of you, but your daughter ran to him, hugging her father's legs, who picked her up. "Are you hurt, my little one?"
"No daddy." she smiled, victoriously. "You see, I'm ready to be a pirate." the joy in her voice brought some peace of mind to both of you.
"I thought you were already a pirate." Benn, who accompanied Shanks, commented and got the girl's response by sticking her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to be the greatest pirate! Just like dad." she replied, shaking herself off Shanks' lap. "Come on Uncle Benn, I bet I beat you."
"Bet? Let's see." The first mate let the girl hit him a few times, laughing at her effort.
"And you, love, were you hurt?" Shanks stood next to you, holding your shaking hand.
"I just got scared. Shanks, she…"
"I felt it. That's how I knew she was in danger." he replied before the question even left your thoughts. "She's barely trained and can already do this? She's really going to be a great pirate."
"Babe…" your warning tone made it clear that this was not the time for him to encourage such ideas.
"Imagine, she's a captain? Our daughter has a big future. In fact, we know who she takes after." the man boasted, earning a shove in response. "I think she needs companions."
"She can arrange it over time."
"Or we can help." the mischievous tone was already almost inert to the way he spoke to you. "Just a few more babies, a first mate, a cook." He started to list, seeing you deny it. "But you look so beautiful pregnant."
"Forget it Shanks."
"Daddy, mummy!" Emony's voice drew you both in. You watched the girl pose as victorious, on top of a Benn Beckman, Lucky, Yasopp and Limejuice piled on the floor, pretending to be defeated. "I won!"
"Now I challenge you, my little fire hair." Shanks joined in the game, going over to the girl.
Maybe some brothers for Emony would be nice - and maybe Shanks would have given you a good reason to accompany him every time you saw him love your little daughter.
Law
warnings: angst, more angst, arguments with a fluff and happy ending. I mean, do I really need to inform you that our boy is going to freak out about the possibility of amber lead in his baby? Perhaps not very common uses of his DF, Law freaks out for a while, but then becomes the best dad in the world (we saw so little of Law with Lammy, but I bet he was an amazing brother and that he would be such a great girl's dad). And of course, Rosi comes from Rosinante. This text here is huge, sorry.
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Being subordinate and companion to a captain who happened to be a doctor was one of the most practical things in your life. Did you catch the flu? He would solve it. Were you injured in battle? Just call the captain.
This meant not having any problems, especially after you decided to start dating. Law became even more attentive to every detail of your health, which made you realize that you didn't have much time to deal with the situation in your hands - more precisely, the situation in your womb.
The tests remained hidden in Ikkaku's drawer, with her being his only confidant at that moment. You wanted to know how many months it was, to be able to share such news, but you knew that as soon as Law found out, he would freak out and that's why you were avoiding him.
Avoiding, in the past verb, after all, he had already noticed something wrong between the two of you. Two knocks on your bedroom door startled you and your roommate.
"Hey." he looked dejected when the door opened, his attention automatically turned to Ikkaku. "Mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?"
"Of course captain." a pious look came from her towards you, before the woman disappeared from your field of vision.
Law, not knowing what to say, sat next to you. As you tried to grab his hand, you felt him move away. Damn it.
"How long have you known?" his cold tone dictated that he was probably not happy at all with the news.
"How do you know?" you answered his question with another, trying to buy time before the approaching storm.
"Today marks two months since you haven't asked me for help with any colic or complained about being sinking in a red river." he laughed, even though he didn't look happy. "By my reckoning, it's also been two months since that day in the kitchen."
Of course, the day in the kitchen. You and Law were always careful, even if you already used your contraceptive method, you preferred to use other types of protection. Except when you arrived at Polar Tang drunk and alone, which resulted in a unprotected sex session on the shared kitchen table.
"Quite a recipe we made." You tried to make fun of him.
"What do we do?" For the first time at that moment, you saw Law's eyes actually find you, worried and afraid.
"What do we do?" you repeated. "I'm pregnant Law, I don't know if there's much to do other than wait for the baby to be born."
"You know what worries me." his harsh response cut through any kind of excitement you held back. "You know very well what will happen to this child."
"What can happen." you corrected him.
"Would you rather risk waiting the nine months, giving birth and seeing your child die some time later? Sounds like a great idea to me." Cynicism echoed in his words just as your two voices were already much louder, taking your hatred to levels you didn't yet know.
"Would you rather I have an abortion and then spend the rest of my life wondering what if my baby had been born healthy?" his silence was the answer you needed at that moment. "You know what? Leave me on the next island, I'd rather take a risk and have my baby happy than have to abort it or even worse, my baby has to live with a parent who hates its existence."
"You don't understand what this could entail." He stood up too, trying to put something that looked like sense into your head. "You stay here until this is resolved."
"This has already been resolved and you don't need to have any involvement in my baby's life." you were sure the entire submarine was already listening to that argument between the two of you. "Get out of here, Law."
"But…"
"Get out of here!" you screamed even louder, seeing the man give up and leave. It only took a few seconds for Ikkaku to appear and allow you to cry for hours on her shoulder.
Anyone looking from the outside could see that you two were in pain. Law had become a shadow of the captain he was, only having small appearances to issue orders or to follow you - even without saying many words - every time you approached an island, fearing that you would leave the crew. Even though the two of you didn't talk anymore, you knew that his disappearance was related to studying everything he could about the disease that ravaged his country and was also present in him.
In the two months that had passed, Law had stopped being your boyfriend and practically become your doctor. Without exchanging many words, you only met when he decided to do some examination on you. To break the mood, you always took one of your friends along. The little information you had about Law came from Bepo, Shachi or Penguin, the only ones who were still able to invade his room and talk to him. Like that afternoon, when they insisted that you convince him to leave the room and have dinner with all his companions.
"Law?" two knocks on the door accompanied your voice. His tired look hit you immediately.
"How can I help you?"
"I wanted you to come have dinner with us." you tried to appeal to what you want. Many times, before pregnancy, that had worked.
"I am a little busy."
"I can bring something here." You suggested, approaching him. On the table, you saw accumulated papers, the vast majority of which titles were not related to Amber Lead.
"No need to worry, I'm fine." he simply replied, seeing that you were reading the papers on his desk. "I found some new studies."
"Law, I told you that you don't need to worry about that right now, we don't know yet…"
"When would you rather I worry?" the cynicism was once again there in his voice and he knew how much you hated it. "When you die on the table because for some reason this shit got to you? Or when I watch our baby die?"
"Now is he our baby?" you used the same resource as him. "From what I remember, I had made it very clear that I didn't want you to be involved in this."
"But it's my obligation."
"Your obligation as a father? I think you lost that right when you made it very clear that I had to take my baby away." you started to walk away from his desk. "Or your obligation as captain? As a boyfriend that isn't, I don't know what it's like to have a boyfriend for a good few months."
"I was busy, trying to find a cure for you two."
"We're both not sick." you sounded offended by what he had proposed. "But keep it up, sink into your books, don't worry when I disappear from this fucking submarine."
You left slamming the door, stressed. The looks that reached you seemed full of pity and concern. You only managed to get as far as the kitchen before a pang hit your head and stomach. Being supported by your colleagues, the only request you made was that no one tell Law about it. You wouldn't give him reason in his incessant search for something he didn't yet know.
Alleviating your worries, the diagnosis arrived quickly: just a spike in high blood pressure. A few hours of rest and an IV should do the trick. When you saw Bepo murmur an apology, you knew exactly what he was going to do and so did your friends, as little by little they left you alone. You remained turned away, even though you heard the door open. Something in the air had changed, it was as if you immediately felt more tense and prepared for another argument.
"Babe, can we talk?" Law's voice sounded much lower than normal, definitely attracting your attention. His affectionate way of calling you was an easy way to make you fall for his words. You turned around, facing him and started to adjust yourself to sit on the stretcher. "No, please, stay still there."
"I'm just going to sit down." You did so, your movement being followed to the millimeter by his eyes. "Just to be clear, I don't want to fight."
"I didn't come here for that reason." he approached, hesitating with every step he took. "Actually, I know you didn't want me to come here for any reason."
"I just don't want to have to hear from my doctor that I'd better have given up on the idea." you turned around, allowing your legs to dangle. "I understand your concerns Law and I would be lying if I said I haven't been terrified of the idea since I saw the first positive test."
"I know." He finally stopped a short distance away, but he still didn't touch you. "I… I-I, damn, why is it so hard?"
"Just let the words come, don't think about them." you suggested, figuring it was just pride keeping you from apologizing for all the previous argument.
"I-I feel like shit." a sigh came out along with the words. "You're right, as a boyfriend I've been terrible, as a doctor then, just look at the fact that you're in a hospital bed and the last person to be informed is me." his fists clenched and then loosened, his tattooed hands rubbed against his face, perhaps in an attempt to get the words out of him.
"Law?" your heart broke when you heard a sniffle come from him, it was the last gesture you expected after everything, it was difficult to connect the information like this.
"I can't lose you and I know it doesn't seem like it, I know I've been a terrible person, but I love this child. I can't lose this too." For the first time after so long together, you saw tears run down your loved one's face. His hands stuck to his hat, pulling in a failed attempt to hide his face. "I can't stop regretting saying that to you, what if our baby hates me for it? What if our baby knows that for a moment, even a small moment, I didn't want him or her to exist."
"My love?" You extended your hand, being accepted by him. Law fit between your legs and buried his face in your neck, even with the muffled sound, you only heard his murmurs and sobs.
"I'm sorry, please. For yelling and being an idiot." he asked, still not letting go of you. "I just can't deal with the thought of losing either of you."
"My dear, look at me." his irises remained almost hidden by the tears that accumulated at his waterline. Your hands dried his face and you didn't know how you weren't crying together. "We still don't know if our child will have amber lead disease, we don't know the scope of your fruit in the cure."
"What should we do in the meantime?"
"As I told you, wait. Make the best of this little time we have until the baby is born." you suggested while your hands traced caresses on his face. "And I just want, I need, my boyfriend back. I don't know how far I can go without you by my side."
"I promise to get better, I promise to take care of you." he replied, taking a deep breath and composing himself. With his hands rubbing his face, Law looked much more centered. "What happened today? When Bepo called me, he just told me it was a blood pressure problem and that you were resting."
"I said I want my boyfriend." you insisted with a smile on your face and saw a small ghost of what would be a smile on Law too.
Law first checked the serum that was being applied to you and then took off the hat he was wearing, placing it on your hair. With his face millimeters away from yours, he placed a quick kiss on your lips, followed by one more and another, until finally you gave way to him. The skin of his face was still damp against your face and your fingers caressed his scalp, the gesture he loved so much and god, how he had missed it. When Law pulled away, you almost pulled him back. Two months were too long apart - even under the same roof.
"I missed you so much." You confessed, not wanting to let go of his hand.
"I missed you too my love, I'm sorry for being such an idiot for so long." He sank against your skin again, this time stealing a few kisses along the way. "What do you think we make up for lost time?"
"That sounds interesting to me."
"No, no sex." he cut you off as soon as he saw you smile mischievously. "Room."
You were back in his room, now lying on the soft bed with gray sheets. Along with the two of you, only the serum and support tied to your skin had come. Law adjusted himself, sitting with his back against the wall and adjusting your body to be against his skin. You saw from the corner of your eye his hand go towards you and retreat, ignoring any complaint he would make, you pulled it back and placed it flat against your belly.
"I don't think you can feel it yet, but I've already started to feel some small movements. In fact, I thought I had stomach gas, until Ikkaku and I found a book explaining that it was the baby." You explained and looking over your shoulder, you could see bright gray eyes staring at you. "Right now, from what I feel, the baby is here." you slid his hand away, stopping next to your side.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked, using his other arm to hug you even tighter. You nodded and saw him smile at the likely thought that crossed his mind before the words came out. "The other day, I accidentally spied on you in your room. I think you had just gotten out of the shower and were in front of the mirror."
"Oh no Law, I don't believe it." you laughed, already knowing what day it was.
"I think you spent about fifteen minutes posing in front of the mirror, caressing our child in your womb. God, you looked so beautiful, so radiant." he allowed himself to almost melt against the wall behind him. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time, so much stuff."
"Can I tell you something too? I actually need to update you on a few things." you asked and felt his face move against your skin, nodding. "Did you know that our baby is already just like you? I can't even see a piece of bread before I'm ready to spill my stomach."
That night, the two of you spent a lot of time there. You telling him about the little news that Law had missed in the time you didn't talk and him explaining little curiosities to you, things that seemed incredible to him because they were happening in the body of the woman he loved and he didn't have the courage to tell you before.
In the fifth month - now with a new version of Law, one much more adept at the idea of ​​being a father and much more attached to you. You were dragged by him to a small room, finding Ikkaku, Shachi and Penguin sitting at the table waiting for you.
"What is that?" You sat down in the chair that Law arranged for you, he soon took the place next to you.
"You said you didn't want me as a doctor, so if you want and you have time to think about it, they will be your doctor."
"And you?" your voice was almost cornered, trying to connect the pieces of the situation that was presented. "Aren't you going to be at the birth?"
"I'll be there all the time and any problem, I'll take care of it. But I want to be there for you, for our baby. Instead of scalpels and speculums, I just want to hold your hand." Law chuckled as he saw your little pout that you made start to tremble. "Sound like a good idea to you?"
"T-This is in-amazing." despite Law seeing you get emotional, the loudest crying came from the other side of the table.
"Man, that was beautiful." Shachi was struggling, leaning on Penguin.
"It's so good that you guys are back."
"Idiots." the woman commented, turning to you. "Come on, tell me everything you expect from the birth of our little baby."
After spending the remaining months buried in books next to him, this time looking for good information and not just a cure for an illness, you learned that the stretcher was not a good place to give birth and that sensations were an important part of the process, in other words, goodbye Ope Ope no Mi's anesthesia powers. Law seemed to want to make up for the distance by always staying close to you and always reminding you how special you were to him, like when you looked adorable when the jumpsuit stopped fitting around your belly or when you and Bepo joined in complaining about the heat.
With the help of your own nature, the chosen doctors and Law behind you in that hot tub, your girl arrived into the world quickly and much less painfully than you thought. In the first few hours, little Rosi didn't let go of you and only when the water around the bathtub became cold did Law manage to take his focus off the little baby to take you two to a more cozy place.
In the early days, Law's hands seemed tied to Rosi. When the girl with eyes as gray as her father's wasn't on his lap, Law was following you like a shadow to ensure the health of both of you. Sometimes looking sideways, you could see Law observing every inch of the girl, in a constant search for signs of the cursed disease that had once taken his family from him. He would never allow that to happen to his little girl.
The worry lasted for years and there was never a sign of the disease or any other illness. Before, if everyone at Polar Tang had a strict health care schedule, with the arrival of the girl, attention redoubled.
Rosi was like seeing a mini-version of Law walking around, especially because of the copy of his hat that he had gotten for her. All the love that Law took to give you and her, when it was just a fetus inside you, the doctor seemed to make up for it with the girl, there wasn't something she wanted or asked for that he wasn't ready to do.
Rosi seemed to love accompanying her father in laboratories and studies, this seemed to change when she was once injured in an attack, in fact Rosi lost her balance with the Polar Tang speeding into the sea and ended up getting a cut on her forehead, patched by Ikkaku since Law was busy fending off enemies. That had been enough trauma for little Rosi to not want to know more about medical things.
"Please, my sweetie, it's just a small remedy." you tried to pull the girl out of the closet.
"No, no, no." she grumbled. The little gray eyes full of water. "It's going to hurt a lot."
"It won't hurt, my love." you insisted, seeing her deny it.
"My princess?" Law bent down, reaching her height. "Come on, this is to make you okay."
"Daddy, it's going to hurt a lot, I don't want it." she grumbled even more, knowing that Law was much easier to convince.
"Doesn't your throat hurt too?" he asked and the little girl nodded. "I promise it won't hurt anymore."
"But what about the injection?"
"Daddy also promises it won't hurt at all." he reaffirmed and saw the girl come out of hiding, heading straight into his arms. "Babe, she's a little feverish." he murmured to you, almost despair forming on his face.
"Law, it's just a cold." you warned him, following him as your daughter rested against his shoulder. You knew that when it came to Rosi's health, Law was the most concerned of all.
"Daddy, it's because I was lying on the ice with Bepo." the girl confessed the information, adjusting herself to reach Law's field of vision. "I'm just a little sick, that's it." she created a small space between her fingers.
"That's great, my love." He placed the girl sitting on the stretcher. "It means it'll only take that long for you to get better." he repeated the gesture she had made with her fingers. "Ready?" he saw her deny it, laughing. "Do you want mommy to hold your hand?"
"Yes!" She reached out her little hand to you. "Mommy, what is this?"
"It's dad's way of taking care of us." You tried to sum it up the best way. Maybe she was too young to understand how akuma no mis works.
"Ready? First take a deep breath…" Law imitated, holding the air for a while and making her laugh when she saw him puffed up. "And now…" he applied the injection to her arm. He knew it hadn't hurt at all, but the girl automatically started to pout. "My little princess, what happened? Did it hurt?"
"No." she said, her voice breaking. You both had to laugh when you saw her asking you to hold her without even moving the arm that Law had given the injection to.
"My love, what do you think…" Law bent down to look into her eyes as he spoke. "We can go to the kitchen and steal…"
"Bepo!" the girl stretched her arm towards the bear that appeared in the field of vision. "I want to be with Bepo."
"With Bepo?" Law pretended to be frustrated.
"He's warm and I'm cold." you passed the girl to Bepo, who was her favorite company. Law insisted that it was because the mental age was identical, but you always laughed at the accusations while the bear grumbled.
"What do you say we read a little?" Bepo suggested, letting Rosi climb onto his shoulder.
The two of you accompanied him to the living room, giving Bepo information about the girl being feverish. It only took a few words from the bear who started reading one of her favorite stories for Rosi to fall asleep. Law carefully took his daughter from him and started walking alongside you to the girl's room.
"I can't believe she chose to go with him."
"Well, you had just given her an injection, she harbored some resentment." you joked and saw him frown. "Maybe the next one will like us more than a huge, cuddly bear."
"Next, huh?" he spoke in a low tone, not wanting to wake the girl in his arms.
"Exactly. Or have you forgotten about the ten minutes hiding in your living room when Ikkaku was having a girls' night out with Rosi?" You saw his expression light up, a smile that you hadn't seen the first time you had this kind of conversation and that was one of your favorite things in the world.
"How long, is a month half?" he tried to hold back his louder, surprised voice.
"Yes, I took the test last week." you watched him open the door and place little Rosi on the pink bed. Before you could return to the subject, you felt him take you in his arms and lift you up, filling your face with kisses.
"I love you so much, I love you both." he put you down. "To be more exact, the three of you."
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walpu · 2 days
Note
Walp walp!
Hear me out, Nameless!reader that's been to many places, even the dangerous ones since the Trailblaze Path grants them faint power and allows them to better adapt to harsh environments. So imagine Aventurine didn't hear a news from them for a LONG time, way longer than usual even for them, thinking they've abandoned him.
Until reader came back with so much scars and brusises, handmade stuff like patterned fabrics, sunburns, chunks of turquoise meteorites, a dishelved look, jewelries. Because they sure survived extreme harsh environment that has low precipitation with high risk of being hit by a small space object, and did I mention nameless!reader survived a ferocious tribe?
Aventurine was speechless, why would they go to such place for a long period of time until he takes a closer look of what kind of gifts they've made for him. They waited until it sinks in before showing him photographs of the place they were in. Sigonia-IV. Reader already shuts him up from the "you didn't have to do this" because no, as a follower of Akivili it's also their duty to traverse different kinds of worlds and embrace it, and their personal mission to get something for him made them deadset on going there.
They gotta admit, he's strong for surviving that kind of place, made them admire him even a bit more.
Maybe its because I'm sleep deprived but it made me SO emotional image not even kidding
Him having a peace of home, knowing that you're willing to do that fir him, that you care enough to think about small details like this 🥹🥹🥹
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surielstea · 18 hours
Text
Territorial
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel was busy with work and Reader decided to go out alone, much to the males dismay
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | pwp | 18+ | p in v | oral sex (m receiving) | shadow play | bondage | angry/passionate sex | cum inside | creeps at a bar | reader’s kinda ditsy but we love her
4.4k words
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"Az?" I call, peeking my head out the doorway. "Azriel?" I sing, padding down the hall when I don't hear him reply. I follow the golden tether connecting us to his office, only half-clothed with my unzipped dress dipping off my shoulders.
"Hey," I spot the male at his desk, eyes scanning over a form. He doesn't spare me a glance but replies with a quiet, "Hi."
"I called for you and you didn't answer," I take a few steps closer, leaning against his desk and holding the neckline of my dress up. "Yeah?" He mumbles as he continues writing, clearly not listening to what I am saying and filling the silence. "Can you help me?" I ask and he freezes, then finally turns to look at me, ears perking at the question. "The corset," I point to the back of my dress. "Ah," He nods but doesn't move from his seat.
Instead of his hands, it's shadows that move to my back, tightening around the strings and then pulling them tight. I frown slightly but don't move as I allow the darkness to tie the strings. When they're done they return to Azriel's side, swishing around like they were trying to get his attention too, but Azriel seemed busy.
We've been staying in the Hewn City for the past few days, Azriel had interrogations to see to, then paperwork, then more interrogations. So it was easier to stay in the Moonstone Palace for the time being.
My mate was busy quite often but he always made time for me, always. So what's so different now? It might've been shallow that I continued to hover at his side, waiting for him to give me some attention.
I watch what he's so intently writing, frowning at the way he didn't even spare me a second glance. "Take a break Az, we could go to the evening markets?" I suggest and it's like the words don't even reach his ears. "Or I could open a bottle of wine and we could cuddle in bed," I add in a light tune, running my hand down his arm.
It takes a few seconds for him to reply, for the words to even register. "Maybe another time," He brushed me off and my frown deepened. "I understand, sorry for bothering you," I grumbled, then left his office and closed the door with a particularly hard force.
I told him I understood, except I didn't. He worked for Rhysand, and of course, the High Lord is still his boss but if Azriel turned in an assignment a few hours late I doubted he'd get reprimanded in the slightest. If he was anyone else it'd be fine, but this is Azriel, the male who always makes time for me and never makes me feel like a burden.
But now I was standing in the hallway alone, and a little defeated.
I curse myself for being so sensitive and walk down the hall and into the kitchen. I open the door down to the wine cellar but before I can take the descent to the basement I realize I didn't want to drink alone. I sigh, closing the door.
It wasn't that I needed Azriel to be able to enjoy myself but he's got in my head, and now he's all I want.
I decided to pass the time by going to the evening markets on my own, he couldn't be mad at me for doing it by myself when I'd already offered to include him, right?
I scribbled down on a note that I was leaving and signed it with a heart before leaving through the front door without so much as a proper goodbye.
The evening markets were much different in the Hewn City than the ones in Velaris. Every vendor seemed to be trying to con or scam me.
I came across a cart, a skinny pale woman with thinning black hair stood behind the counter with dead eyes. I notice a young pair of twins huddling beside her long, ripped skirt.
She was selling gemstones. They were all fake, you could tell by the way they gleamed under the moonlight but that didn't make them any less beautiful. A specific blue stone caught my attention. I smile softly at the woman and give her my entire pouch of gold marks, enough for a month's worth of food if spent right. She begins shuffling through the coins and only takes what's owed out as I pluck the sapphire up.
"No, keep all of it," I brush her off with a wave of my hand. Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock. I give her a kind smile. "Get them something nice," I gesture to the two girls the height of her waist. "Thank you," She bleats out and I nod with a gentle smile, pocketing the gem before waltzing away with a small pep in my step.
I come across another stand, this one with aisles of flowers leading towards the shopkeeper. I smile as I gaze at a bush of jasmine, the scent reminding me of Amren. I continue walking down the aisle, spotting moonflowers as big as my palm, and bouquets of chocolate daisies that somehow smelt like the enriching cocoa flavor I was so familiar with.
The clerk seemed busy so I didn't buy anything, just continued to walk until there was a snag at my skirt. My brows twitch and I look down to see one of the twin girls from earlier fisting the cloth in her hand. She doesn't say anything, just holds out a white rose. "For me?" I smile gently and she nods shyly.
I bend down and take the flower, breaking off all the thorns before reaching towards her and tucking the rose behind her ear. "There, beautiful," I compliment and she flushes pink. "Thank you," She whispers and my smile widens. "Thank you, too," I say, standing. She stared up at me in wonder. "Why don't you go snatch one for your sister as well?" I suggest and she nods before scurrying off back toward the flower market.
I turn on my heel, walking with my skirts in my hands as I continue my route down the dimly lit path, shops slowly dwindling away and mage lights flickering the further down the alley I go.
I grip the material of my skirt in my hands at the shift in the atmosphere, my steps speeding up, eager to get out of the eerie ambiance.
Hyena-like laughter echoes down the stretch of the brick road and my entire body tenses. I looked to where the sound had come from, three men sat on upside-down trashcans all talking amongst each other with shit-eating grins. It was rude to assume they were of any danger to me, but I was better off paranoid than ignorant.
I reach through my mental bond towards Azriel only to be met with unbreakable, obsidian walls. I frown, flattening my palms to the cold rock but it was entirely solid and I was locked out. I huff and thrust my own shields up, blocking him out too. Instead of passing by the three men, I step into the building at my left, a bar.
I enter the tavern with a slight panic in my step. I hadn't realized how safe Azriel made me feel until I no longer had his company.
The place was packed, every night in the Hewn City was a night for a drink, there were crowds but it was eerily quiet and I had eyes from every direction staring at me. I ignored the eyes and tried not to catch anyone's gaze as I walked towards the bar top, settling into an empty stool with torn leather that creaked when I put my weight on it.
A bartender immediately comes over to me and I order something light, only planning to pass the time here until I think Azriel learned his lesson and noticed that I didn't need him to have a good time. It was petty and something he probably already knew but I had to solidify that fact.
"What's a girl like you doing all the way out here?" A gravelly voice asked and I turned to the male beside me, his long, graying beard thick with what looked like food sprinkled throughout it. I fight back a grimace.
"A girl like me?" I arch a brow, not interested in telling him where I'm from. "Sure, the fancy clothes, shiny hair," He utters. "I bet that bracelet on your wrist costs more than my house," He scoffs. I look down at the bejeweled bracelet that I wear at a constant. "Well? How much?" He asks and I shrug. "It was a gift from my mate," I utter, not knowing the exact price— but with the amount of diamonds glinting on the piece of jewelry, the stranger wouldn't be far off with the estimate of his house.
"Mate?" He grunts and I nod. "Why aren't you with him now?" He demands, sticking his nose into my business. I nearly roll my eyes. What does it matter to him anyway? "He's working," I swing my legs back and forth. "And what's this male do for a livin' to be able to afford gifts like that?" He gestures to my wrist. "He's the Spymaster of the Night Court," I say, the male gulps down whatever fear bubbled up inside him at the title.
The bartender hands me my drink and I thank him with a gentle smile.
The stranger next to me turns away from me, instead going towards whatever poor girl is on the other side of him as I silently sip my sweet drink, swinging my legs back and forth as I gaze up at the ceiling, running my eyes along the cracks and crevices, attempting to think the way Azriel does, how he notices every single thing, analyzes every movement, every breath. I wish I could observe things like him, read him the way he reads me. I huff in defeat after growing bored from one minute of observing, instead sinking into my stool.
A few males throughout the night approach me but I tell them who my mate is and they immediately back off. I liked the idea of Azriel being so feared in places like this, how he had me blocked from his side of the bond and yet was still protecting me from every male who engaged.
There was a slight commotion behind me, mumbles and synchronized footsteps like everyone was rushing out of someone's way. I ignore it, keeping my eyes pinned to my half-full glass, debating on finishing it or just going home and cuddling up with a book, perhaps Azriel is done with work.
There's a sudden presence behind me, one that's vaguely familiar but nothing too keen. A hand comes down onto my shoulder and my spine straightens at the familarity. "For the last time, I have a mate—" I begin but then I feel shadows twining up my ankles, the scars on his hand, the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.
"I know," He started and I whipped around, wrapping my arms tightly around the back of his neck. "Az," I greet, and even if I was just annoyed with him, it felt refreshing to have his eyes on me again. "I just had the most wonderful evening," I say as he intertwines his hand with mine and pulls me from my stool. I follow, forgetting about my drink while Azriel pays the bartender with a bill too large for what I ordered.
"I wish you had come with," I say as he pulls me through the crowd, well it wasn't much of a crowd anymore, his wings gave him a large enough frame that groups had simply split in half to accommodate for him, me in tow as he guides me through the path.
"And I went to the markets and bought this pretty gem," I pull out the blue sapphire. "Remind me of your siphons, don't you think?" I hold it up in the moonlight. He looked at it and gave a dip of his head, his mind still reeling as he pulled me away from the alleyway while I continued blathering on. "And there were these twin girls who were so adorable, and later one of them gave me a flower—" I was cut off as I was completely consumed by a familiar darkness, Azriel's hand tightening on mine as he pulled us through the shadow realm, the real world seeming so bright in comparison.
"Az," I pause, looking around at our house as we land, standing in the center of our bedroom. Not in the Hewn City, but Velaris. He had taken us all the way home. "What are we doing here? Did you finish your assignments?" I say, striding up to him and realizing only now that he had yet to say anything this entire time since the bar, I've just been prattling on about my evening while he only nodded, which was typical but, it felt different, there was something cold about him.
"Azriel? You okay?" I reach up towards his face but he catches my wrist before I can make contact. "Do you know how worried I was about you?" His tone is warm but there's a certain deathly flicker in his eyes that sent a chilling shiver down my spine. "There was nothing to be worried about," I mutter, pulling at my wrist but his hold doesn't yield. "You believe that?" He arches a brow but I was too undermined to nod.
"Love," He sighs, his hold loosens and I'm met with relief. "Do you know how many people in that court want me dead?" He tilts his head and I swallow thickly, I hated thinking about stuff like that and he knew it. "How many people want to hurt me the way I've hurt them?" He adds and all I can do is shake my head no.
"I need you to understand the only way to hurt me is by hurting you, make sense?" His hand comes to my cheek, angling my head to look up at him. I meet his stare and nod bashfully.
"I do understand, but, I’m fine," I argue. "I can handle myself, I promise I was safe," I stress and his gaze hardens yet again, now I've done it.
"I know you can handle yourself, but, just let me protect you," He sighs. "Why? I don't need your protection— in fact, you had me blocked out all night, so if I did need you, you wouldn't have even been able to save me," I express and he bristles. I shouldn't have said it, I know it'd hit him where it hurt but, gods, I was so sick of feeling so dependent, like I relied on him every waking hour since we mated.
Azriel never shouted, barely ever raised his voice. But when he did, he was a different male. Animalistic and feral, and entirely uncaged. Some sick part of me found it insanely attractive. His power was so immense I couldn't help but let it turn me on, shadows flooding the room as a vein bulged at his neck as he explained why I need to be more careful when on my own, but I was barely listening to his words, just his voice, his passion. The spine-shivering tone reaches the wrong parts of my body and leaves me clenching my legs, staring up at him helplessly as the smell of my arousal becomes apparent and he shutters, his words halting as he stares at me.
"Are you fucking serious?" He scoffs and I look down at the floor with a bright flush, attempting to hide what's already known. He takes a menacing step closer, hand coming to my chin and tilting my face up dauntingly slow, I avoid his gaze. "Look at me," He snaps and I do as he says immediately, eyes staring up into his, that familiar hazel analyzing every part of me like it always did. "You like it when I yell at you?" He asked and I swallowed thickly. "Answer me, love," He says, hand tightening on my jaw and I nod with creased brows. "Yes," I confess and I could already tell my panties were a mess.
"You gonna be a good girl and take your punishment?" He tilts his head and my pussy throbs in anticipation at the promise of discipline. Again, I nod. "Yeah? On your knees then," He commands and I waste no time before dropping onto the floor before him, staring up at him with shiny, wide eyes. "Open," He says and I part my lips, tongue lulling out. Two of his fingers immediately plunge down my throat while his other hand works at the ties of his pants. I move my own hands up, attempting to offer assistance but shadows are quick to twine around my wrists and pin them useless behind my back.
I close my lips around his hand, sucking on the two long, thick, and calloused fingers. I dip my tongue between them, coating them in my saliva as he curls them into the back of my throat, forcing me to gag on them, loving the sight of my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
He gets his pants down and his cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard and leaking pre-cum, his tip red and angry. I whimpered at the sight of it as he removed his fingers from my mouth, using my saliva to further lube himself for easier entrance. He strokes himself once, then another. "Please," I rasp out, needy for his cock. He knew just how badly I needed him inside of me.
He continues pumping his cock just in front of my lips, groaning out at the intense feeling of his hand. "Open," He repeats and again, I obey. The head of his cock slaps onto the flat of my tongue and I nearly moan at the salty taste of him, tears brimming the edge of my eyes as I run my tongue up and down the underside of his member, tracing the bulging vein.
I pulled at the restraints on my hands, whining in need of more as I suck on the head of him, swirling my tongue around his tip and pressing my tongue to the sensitive slit as he grunted in pleasure.
His hand finds the back of my head, gripping my hair roughly as moans slip from me. "Three taps, remember?" He asks and I nod urgently, remembering the safe code in case he went too far, but I knew I wouldn't be using that any time tonight.
He then thrust all of his length down my throat and I gagged on him, adjusting to his size of him was impossible as he continued to abuse my mouth, tears now free-falling onto my cheeks as his other hand found my neck, squeezing occasionally when I choked on him.
I struggled to breathe as he continued to pummel into my parted lips, his head tilted back in pure ecstasy as I sucked on him hard, bobbing my head. "Gods, you suck me off so good," He praised and I rub my thighs together for any form of friction but nothing could compare to his cock. I seal my lips around his base, jerking my head as I swirl my tongue underneath his cock, drinking every drop of his pre-cum, savoring the taste and eager for more but as he twitches he pulls away from my mouth, keeping himself from crossing that fine line of release. I cry out a whine, wanting the salty taste of him on my tongue now.
"Please, Az," I sob but he ignores the whine. "Get up, on the bed," He nodded his head toward the mattress as I rose from my knees, my wrists unbinding and allowing me to crawl up towards the pillows with shaky limbs. I go to turn around to face him but he stuffs my face into the pillow before I get the chance. My back bows as I struggle to breathe and his hold ceases, allowing me to lift only slightly from the bed. His hands come to the curve of my ass, my dress pushed up by shadows. He doesn't even bother with the ties of my corset and instead tears me free from the material, shredding the gown into pieces and discarding it onto the floor. I whimper as my panties follow without any other foreplay, the cold air breezing against my soaked cunt.
"Count five then I'll let you have what you want, okay?" His hands grope at my ass and I rise onto my elbows, my back arching up into his as he leans over me. I nod with a needy moan, reveling in the feeling of his scars on my skin.
His hand rises then comes down onto my ass, a loud smacking sound filling the room, my mewls quickly following. "One," I gripe, clenching the sheets in my fists as he gives me the second one, harder, the sting lingering and sending shockwaves up my spine. I stuff my face into the pillows as I call the number, so caught up in the pleasure of it all.
His third strike is joined with a cold shadow brushing against the apex of my thighs and I scream at the friction, the neglecting had grown so strong that I could feel myself dripping down my thighs, sopping wet for him. On the fourth smack, the shadows return, this time to stay, swirling around that familiar bundle of nerves and all thoughts leave me, completely consumed by the pleasure of it all. "What number was that?" He purrs beside my ear and I shutter. "Fuck— I, I don't know," I whine. "Oh c'mon, think hard you can do it," He directs, trailing kisses up the side of my ear but it was impossible to think about anything but those damned shadows circling my clit.
"Four," I reply with a hopeful lift to my voice. "Good, such a good girl," He hums, kissing just below my ear before landing one final slap to my ass, the skin red and stinging in pure pain, and I doubt I had ever been more turned on.
"You want me inside baby?" He asked with barely anytime for me to recover, biting at my earlobe as I cry out my reply, "Shit, Az please."
I feel the head of his cock press against my folds a beat later, lathering himself in my fluids as I clench around nothing, legs jolting as I arch up higher for easier entrance, showing just how much I wanted him.
His tip aligns with my entrance and I beg for him, for every inch of him. "Need you, please," My voice shakes and he rises from behind me, his hands coming down onto my thighs, gripping them tightly. Shadows pin my legs to the bed, restricting me from moving as his tip enters me only slightly. "Don't move," He commanded and I nodded, then he thrust all of him inside of me and I felt like I split in half.
I screamed, clawing at the sheets at the intense pain yet pleasure that quickly followed. My brows knot as his base slaps against mine and without much adjustment he begins to pound his length into me, pulling strings of moans from the base of my throat. "Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock," He sighed out, head tilting back in pure relief, continuing to pummel into me with an unrelenting force.
"You ever g'na leave without me again?" He asks in a cold voice and I shake my head no. "Use your words," He tells, and my back bows at the tone of his voice, so fucking demanding. "No, never Az," I swallow the lump in my throat. "That's right, 'cause who do you belong to?" He asks, his lips on my neck. "You, all yours," I manage to say, words not coming easy as I was too distracted by the feeling of him thrusting up to what felt like my ribs. I moan his name loudly, head hanging low into the pillows as I arch, pushing further onto his cock, his tight balls slapping against my folds while he twitches against my sensitive walls, shadows coming to contact with my clit and doubling the amount of pleasure.
"Az I can't, I can't take any more," I rasp out as he places sloppy kisses on my shoulder, biting and sucking and licking on any bare skin he could get his mouth on. "You will though, won't you?" He said and I couldn't help but agree with him, knowing it'd feel close to death if he pulled out now.
The tip of his cock brushed over my most sensitive area and I shout in euphoric pain. He smirks against my skin and continues to toy with the area, easily hitting that deep place inside of me, molding me to him, stretching my walls to fit his cock and his alone.
Marking me like territory.
"Az, I'm gonna cum— I can't," I struggle to breathe at how tight my lungs felt, the knot in the pit of my stomach threatening to snap any second now. "Go ahead baby, make a mess all over my cock," He allows and his shadows pinch my clit, forcing me into that orgasmic high.
Warmth blooms in my hips as I find release, tears falling down onto the pillows as my legs shake in pure relief, pleasure racking through me like a wave of ecstasy.
His release followed mine, as I clenched around him from my high it forced him into spilling out his warm seed into my cunt, painting my walls white and making me his entirely. "Fuck," He grunts out. "You did good baby," He whispered softly, pecking my tear-stained cheek while slowly pulling out, his cum flowing out of me and down my thighs as I slump down onto the bed, exhausted.
"No sleeping yet, I won't be able to live with myself if you don't get proper aftercare," He ushered me out of the bed as I sat up with a whine. He smiles softly then picks me up, carrying me princess-style towards the bathroom. I marvel at how easily he switched personalities, shifting between Azriel and the Spymaster so easily.
"Alright pretty girl, let's get you cleaned up."
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269 notes · View notes
wesstars · 18 hours
Text
crush
cairo sweet x fem!reader (no pronouns used)
summary: when cairo goes home, what comes to mind are thoughts of you. wc: 2.3k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! all characters 18+. university au. masturbation, smoking, non-linear narrative. reader is cairo’s teaching assistant, reader described as masc presenting. a/n: let me know what y’all think :) for the vibes
masterlist
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“Is Professor Miller not coming?” Winnie had just dropped into her unassigned assigned seat next to Cairo, two minutes before Greco-Roman Literary Theory started. The flipping of pages punctuated the chatter of other students waiting, a comfortable sound. “He said he’d be gone today,” Cairo replied absently. “There’s a ‘guest lecturer,�� our teaching assistant.”
“Oh, right. Who’s that?”Cairo shrugged. “Who knows.” 
As if on cue, the door swung open. Cairo didn’t even look up—Miller mentioned that he kept a handful of research assistants that would be there to help with the advanced reading. But honestly, Cairo wasn’t sure what they could tell her that she didn’t already know. A melodic hum fell through the air for just a moment, a chorus. 
“Good morning.” At your lilting voice, rough with the edge of 10am, Cairo started. She watched you set your messenger bag on the desk. Your white shirt pulled over your shoulders; there was a glint at your collar, a necklace peeking through. A thin watch adorned your wrist. Winnie, along with some of the class, echoed your greeting, and Cairo blinked.
Late spring afternoon draped across the furniture in Cairo’s room, the quickly waning light giving easy way to a blue hour. Dropping her bag at the door, she tore off her shirt and skirt with the confidence of one standing before a crowd. Running a hand up from her sternum to her neck, she stretched languidly, sinking down onto her bed. After so many uneventful days—when she applied to Yale, she didn’t think that there would be any uneventful days—she finally had a story to turn over in her mind. 
You. You were a mystery. Even as you had started the class with an introduction, telling Cairo you’d graduated from a middle-of-nowhere college in California and sought a writing career in Vermont before delving into research, she longed to lay out the details and pull them out from under the rug. Where did you learn to teach? Did you like to drive, or be driven? Mountains, or the sea? Where did you grow up? Was there coffee or tea in your cupboard? Cairo’s stomach burned to know. Her dark eyes burned the ceiling with smoke signals, searching for you even though you were god knows where in that seaside state.
Arching her back, Cairo let her hand travel down, palm flat against her stomach, to trace the seam of her upper thigh. As the class had progressed, your keenly observant nature did not elude Cairo. Maybe listening was something that your pedagogy instilled in you, but the way you held each student’s question in the cant of your head, an answer in your crinkling eyes, listening seemed to be in your nature. It was meticulous, the way you picked apart the class text, weaving in references and tying it all in. In that two hour lecture, Cairo learned that you watched the same way you listened. 
Balmy as it was, the humidity made her dark waves cling to her skin, and she shivered as she brushed them back, thinking of a different pair of slim hands. Your scrutiny of each student had an intention that she couldn’t quite place; a determination that thrilled her. Cairo imagined that you’d observe her the same way, that she would be the one you were most fond of. It was only natural that her own attention would draw yours onto her. Holding the weight of your envisioned gaze made Cairo’s core twist, a pleased little flush that she prayed you could see. Your affected impartiality didn’t bother Cairo—in fact, it pulled her into your shadow. In her bed, she rolled onto her stomach then her knees, shaking her hair out. 
Her hands were steady as she reached for her bedside table, thumb rolling on the wheel of her zippo as she held the cigarette to her lips. Cairo took a drag, blowing out neat smoke rings as she settled back on her heels. The skin of her own fingers was cool against her lips, and when she took the smoke away, she studied the pattern of her lipstick on the white paper as she had so many times before.
She’d watched, unabashedly and unafraid of being caught, as you drummed your fingers on the chalk tray. Would your fingertip be soft or work hardened if it pressed down her tongue? Would your skin carry the stain of her red lip as deeply, as obediently, as the malleable wrapping paper?
“Alright, class,” you cleared your throat, turning slowly around the room to make eye contact with each student. “As you know, Jonathan’s away on a conference today. I’ll start with a bit of role, just so I can learn your names. Not many of you come to my office hours, I know.” You smiled easily. It was so guileless, Cairo mused, nearly childlike. You had the class go around the rooms with names and majors, a circuit that Cairo gave no attention to other than your lilting rhythm of hums, the tapping of your foot on the floor, the way you flicked the corner of the role sheet with your thumb. Your gaze was soon on hers, waiting expectantly. She looked right back with a blink.
“Cairo Sweet. English major.”
“Cairo.” Her name rolled off your innocent little grin, making her cock her head. “Wonderful.” Fascinating. Would you whisper midnight black desires in her ear, so deep and dark they might be murmured into the ink of your own empty room?
You continued, circling back to the front and easily transitioning to the lesson plan. You had an awfully effortless way of grasping the class’ attention, holding gently and never forcing. It wasn’t like Professor Miller, who always seemed to hasten through the lecture so he could return to his research. She could tell you liked the woods of the text, to fall down into the depths of each word, feeling its weight in you and letting it rock. Just like Cairo. 
She sighed into the warm air prickling up her skin, the curl of your voice around her name making her nipples harden in her bralette, even in retrospect. Exhaling around her cigarette, Cairo brought her hands up to palm her breasts, feeling the drag of her rubied nubs on her palms. Was it the high of the nicotine, the blur of smoke ridden air that made her float straight up into the lofty space you’d created in her mind? Though the feel of her own fingers scraping the lace against her skin was familiar, she found herself keen to think of your soft or callused hands. She was wet already, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten wet so fast.
The weight she imagined of your touch on her flushed skin was completely, deliciously foreign. Unbidden but intimately welcome, Cairo wished that your caress would find the map of her chest as familiar as a classic, something you had searched a million times over yet always managed to find something new. Shamelessly, Cairo trailed her fingers down her stomach, nails catching on every rib as she arched her back in the spilled moonlight. The mystery in the crossing of your long legs as you’d leaned back on the desk climbed up her belly, curling in the thump, thump, thump, of her heart. The uneven roll of your sleeves clung to the corners of her eyes, eidetic and oh, so, tempting. She had watched you so ardently—did you like to watch? Would you watch? 
The space between her thighs was achingly empty, craving the set of your narrow hips. She was comfortable there, and she remembered the taut stretch of wool as you dropped into your chair and set one ankle over your knee. There was something endearing about the way your trousers had pulled up to reveal slouchy black socks, and darker her mind went as the material pulling creases around your lap made her shudder and—she reached behind to pull one of her fluffy pillows under her, smoke billowing into the air. 
Cairo gave her hips an experimental roll, imagining it was the soft fabric of your slacks against her aching cunt, and grinned around her cigarette. Unlike the pillow, you would be ever so solid under her, grabbing for her thighs like a dog yearns to please. Were you more likely to bruise her skin, yanking her into you without care for blood—or would you guide her gently, make a home in her innocence and hold her more dearly than life ever could? Either way, your desire for Cairo would be so apparent that you couldn’t help yourself.
The dip of your tongue in her navel, the little smirk you’d undoubtedly wear as you went down further—would you go for her throbbing clit first, or would your lips press so warm—she didn’t know. She didn’t have to, content with all those different versions of you unfurling before her. In her bedroom, each time she moved her hips, it became easier to imagine you guiding her actions, the bump of your nose on her folds, damned if not addicting.
Cairo grinned as she fell onto her forearms, hips pushing into the soft pillow without abandon. The slide of her panties soaked with slick against her sensitive clit felt like the delicate press of your splayed hand on her desk as you’d passed, eyes occupied by the text you were holding. It had only been a split second, but it was enough for her to memorize every crease, every vein. Cairo let out a whine, a demanding little sound, as her movements grew erratic. Looking up into the heaven where you must be, she imagined that you’d murmur to her, “I’m here, I’m here, how could I be anywhere else but here?” as you traced the dip in her back. Her arousal took her down every sullied path she’d ever dreamed of, but her mind stuck on one gesture that made her mouth go dry. 
She remembered the way your shirt got just a bit untucked when you stretched during the class break. You’d instinctively tucked it back in, quick as you surveyed the class. Cairo thought that you’d dress yourself back up the same way after you bent her over the desk after class, pushing her skirt up and shoving your fingers into her, painting bruises onto her hip bones with how tight you held her.
The two of you would share a mutual understanding that she wanted this, wanted it bad enough for you to take it whenever you saw fit. Cairo decided that today, this time, you’d be as rough as you pleased, a cup of pens clattering to the ground as you pushed her down, forearm across her shoulder blades. Your necklace would be cold on her warm skin, would it be cold on her tongue? You’d put two, three fingers inside, humming in that absentminded way you did. She thought you’d nuzzle into her ear, all lips and sharp teeth, asking if she’d sprayed your favorite hair mist of hers because she hoped you’d notice—she did—and take her, break her, whatever you wanted. 
You’d send her plummeting down towards a deeper hell (or was it higher, up to your majestic heaven?), already knowing everything that her body needed. Cairo imagined herself coming so helplessly around the stretch of your fingers, so high strung from nights of trying to mimic the press of your touch on her clit, unable to reach the same heights you sent her to. As she held back tears, eyes on the ceiling in reverence, feeling herself drip to the floor, you’d sigh as your mind wandered to other things already, carelessly running a hand down her back. 
Cairo gasped, dropping her nearly finished cigarette in favor of gripping the bed sheets. The white fabric wrinkled around her fingers, reminiscent of your shirt creasing as you’d rolled your sleeves up. This was something new you could show her, just how fast she could come and just how wet it made her. It was a marvel, feeling the fabric cling to her cunt, almost as good as how you’d feel. Resting her forehead in the crook of her elbow, she murmured your name over and over again, a little susurrus of a litany, so similar to your preoccupied hum. Panting, Cairo giggled in her bliss, soft and bright as Californian oranges clinging to rich leaves. You were dark enough to be tucked into the wrinkles in the soft pillow, dark enough for Cairo to love, as a journal loves a secret.
Sated, Cairo grabbed her phone and typed your name in. The results spilled out, and she scrolled, looking for all of the details in the background of your social media posts, curiously drunk on the year’s gap in your CV. Cairo noticed the perfect little circle where the cigarette had burned when she dropped it, and she brushed away the remnants. The gesture smeared the ash on the sheets.
Walking into your office with barely a knock, Cairo took in the familiar room of an academic, but with your unfamiliar knick knacks around the place. A lighter, a leather wallet, glasses and wired headphones. You didn’t look surprised as you glanced up from your laptop. Instead, you smiled. 
“Cairo, isn’t it?” 
A flush of pleasure shot straight into her—you remembered. She nodded. Your shelves were covered in books and stacks of reviews, the morning’s leftover cup of coffee sitting on one of the ledges. Did you smoke before, or after your coffee? The terrible, terrible want to replace the taste of smoke on your tongue with the taste of her gave Cairo just the confidence she needed. 
“What can I do for you?”
Cairo leaned over your desk, watching the way your eyes dropped to her burgundy lipstick. “Would you be able to help me on the Aristophanes reading?” She pushed her copy of The Clouds towards you. “I can’t seem to grasp it.” Your eyes met hers. “Of course.”
--
a/n cont'd: can you read my mind, i’ve been watching you… there’s just something about you, baby… ♪ / hope you enjoyed @woewriting :)
please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!
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Labor HC (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)
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Warnings: intense labor, my bsf just had her first baby and told me all the horrific things 🫠, personally i never want children, thank the cauldron for healing magic, longish? compared to my other hc, i guess labor horror? the idea of giving birth scares the ever loving shit out of me
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By the end of your pregnancy your stomach was the size of two side by side watermelons
Madja grew increasingly worried that you would not survive the labor at how big the babe inside of you had grown
you worried your child would tear itself out of your womb
indefinite bed rest for you
which you honestly didn't mind since it was getting difficult for you to move your body without getting tired
bat boys worry. you aren't illyrian. if the baby belonged to cassian or azriel, your body would not be able to allow for wings to grow. (paternity/gendering of the baby was not possible. all the results came back as inconclusive)
as it gets more cramped inside of you, every one of the baby's movements is felt by you.
Rhys neglects much of his work and favors spending every waking hour by your side.
Cassian and Azriel grow extremely considered when they hear commotion arising in the Hewn City. Az has heard that many in the Court of Nightmares wish for your demise in labor. They take each threat to your life seriously and spend their time ensuring the security and safety of you and your unborn child.
they can't protect you from the pain of labor though
Rhys and Az were asleep with you in the bed, Cassian preferring to stand guard outside your door.
You're pulled out of sleep rather abruptly, well aware of the unconscious tensing of your muscles as a stabbing pressure digs into your abdominal area. a tightening and squeeze so vicious that you try and sit up immediately but your big belly prevents you from doing so.
stomach churning fear rises in you. it was time.
you shake your mates awake as another squeezing pain that burned across your lower back and pelvis.
they've drilled for this. no really your bat boys have played out the scenario an annoying amount of times. Az leaps from the bed to alert Cassian, Rhys helping you sit up
Azriel leaves to fetch Madja since he's the fastest
the Wraiths prep everything you may need and wait in the room with you, Rhysand and Cassian until Azriel returns with the healer.
that's when things really start
you were already screaming when Madja arrived. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepped you for the labor if Madja were too late.
Azriel had your left hand, brows furrowed and wishing he can transfer the pain you were going through into his body. Even if this pain meant the birth of a child, he hated hearing your screams or the tears welling in your eyes as you push with all your might
Rhysand, who had been hold your right hand transfers it to Cassian's care as he moves to be by Madja side to watch the actual birth. His eyes keep darting from your lower half to your face.
you never knew bringing another life into the world was so painful. you yourself didn't know either of your parents. no one to warn you of what you would face in childbirth
your bat boys were there though, that was all that mattered.
time drags with each heave you give
then he was born. . .
Dagen. even with his wings tucked in tight, pushing him out damn near tore you from your v to your a. like that whole entire region was on fire
"O-Oh. . ." Madja gasped, clearly startled as she held your baby in her arms, having been about to pass him to Rhysand. Almost in fear she looks at Rhysand. "I. . .I think there is another babe coming. . ."
Two babies???
you didn't believe her. until you felt another intense wave of pain start up again. dagen nearly tore you in half. you couldn't imagine pushing out another baby that potentially had wings.
"no, please no" you sob, every part of you aching.
Cassian looks scared. "You can do this." his hand was numb but he didn 't care.
"We're here." Azriel nods and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.
Rhysand was still standing a little dumbstruck with a fresh newborn in his arms.Thankfully one of the wraith sisters nudges him, her arms ready to take the baby so he can go back to focusing on the next one.
Rian arrived quickly, smaller than dagen thanks to the lack of wings
there was five minutes of peace where Rhysand and Cerridwen showed you your boys. beautiful boys that you and your mates created
until you felt another stabbing sensation.
you screamed at rhysand, azriel and cassian. damning them to a suffering in the afterlife for putting you through this.
to you this was bullshit.
it should be impossible!! then again, so was having three destined mates
Mor had called it a miracle. you now thought of it as a curse. you never knew having three mates meant giving birth to three babies at the same time
the third baby however would prove to be the most difficult. thanks to the previous two, you were beyond exhausted and begging for someone to just rip it from you. there was no way you could push it out by yourself.
Madja made the tough call of performing a cesarean section
the wraiths took away rian and dagen as the surgery took place
they'd been in wars, seen carnage, but there your bat boys were with white faces that expressed utter horror
the last baby to be delivered was a little girl with wings. your Baila.
exhausted, you pass out soon after Madja pulls her from you.
everyone is pushed out of the room except for madja herself as she sews you back up and stops the bleeding that could possibly kill you if not treated properly.
it feels like a dream to you when you wake up.
except every part of you is still suffering from a dull pain
your bat boys introduce you to your three pretty babies
i hc that dagen is azriel's, rian is rhysand's and baila is cassian's cuz i've always thought of him as a girl dad and nothing can change that lol
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blondwhowrites · 1 day
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Look, Reader is beloved by all of the Slytherins
Everyone is pretty sure you're dating Mattheo but one time Harry saw Enzo and you cuddling in the library
And then Luna saw Theo kissing you
Ginny swore she saw you and Draco on a date at hogsmeade
Ron was baffled when he walked into you and Blaise making out
To make things even more confusing Hermione was told off by Pansy for apparently upsetting her girlfriend—you
Everyone's confused
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bunnys-kisses · 1 day
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"the bounties & death au" (a modern gods au)
a/n: 'sunlight' by hozier is burned into my brain
god of death!simon has been locked away for centuries, not able to return to the surface of the earth after being casted away into the shadows of the underworld. but once he finds himself free, in the countryside of england.
the world feels and looks different than what he remembered. it even smelled different. but the familiar grey sky of england loomed in a familiar way. the only thing in the distance was a small stone cottage with smoke coming out of the chimney. his legs felt weak, but he managed to make it to the cottage. it had been so long since he walked, after being chained on his knees. to walk again felt like being a newborn deer.
who was he to see on the other side of the door, was none other than you. you looked scared and quickly closed the door. you squeaked, "no one's home! please leave."
simon was a bit confused, his eyebrows knitted together as he knocked once more. he said in his low voice, "i know yer in there. please, let me in."
"are you going to kill me?" "no." "are you sure?" "i need help, i have no interest in killing ya." he lit up when he saw you open the door and look up at him.
you took him in but told him that he had to sit at the chair in the kitchen and not move. you knew it was a risk but, there was something familiar about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. (you'd later recall when you felt close to death after the death of your previous boyfriend).
but simon is kind, you find it comforting to speak to him. he was calm and didn't move from the chair. when he moved as he ate, his movements were slow as to not scare you. simon thought of you like a rabbit. small and delicate, easily nervous.
the first act of kindness he had received in a long time was you sharing a meal with him. the gods didn't need to eat, but the warmth of the stew you made had him feeling warm.
you were an author who had stayed out in the country for some time in order to get a break from the weight of being in the city. you remarked that london was beautiful, and while simon had no way of imagining a city that big, he knew it was nowhere as beautiful as you.
he wouldn't make a move until your last night in the cottage before you headed back to the city. you said you'd drive him wherever he needed to be, but he said he had no home.
you asked him why and he said, "the place i came from. i cannot go back to." and while he hunched his shoulders, you reached up to him and allowed him to stay with you. you had grown to feel affection towards the man, even if you had many more questions about him than answers.
but that night, you shared wine together. you were all over him, your smaller body up against him. when he held onto your ass so you wouldn't fall over, you moaned. you giggled and told him you hadn't been held like that in a long time.
and for the first time in eternity, as simon thrusted into you, he would worship you rather than people worshiping him. as he held your hands onto the bed while you made love, he wondered if it was possible to build a shrine to you. to allow others to worship you the way he wished to do to you.
"you make me feel alive." you whispered in his ear.
an exhale left simon's lips, he then kissed you deeply once more. as you moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist, all simon could think about was that he understood why humans were so desperate to get into the heavens. because if it felt anywhere close to how he felt next to you, he would scramble to get through the gates.
his little human, his little fruitful bounty <3
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hurthermore · 2 days
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»»------► 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 (18+) - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚎𝚗
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✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚘 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎 ✦ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚎𝚗 ✦ 𝙰𝙾𝟹 ✦
Pairing: 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Summary: 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗. 𝚂𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘.
Word Count: 𝟹.𝟽𝚔
Warnings: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚐𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕
𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐, 𝚒'𝚟𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 :( 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙿𝙾𝚅 :𝙳
𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚎 <𝟹
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Alastor remembered ever so vividly the first time he had ever laid his cold, dead eyes on you; in the warm and lively environment of a not so legal establishment, made specifically for get-togethers among the not so ethically rich and somewhat influential individuals. A high end speakeasy. 
He had arrived there for appearances only, being much more accustomed to the speakeasy his dear friend Mimzy ran to partake in illegalities during the prohibition. He had found this particular speakeasy too elitist and supercilious for his liking, contrasting the down to earth and humble joint he was accustomed to. It was undeniable that the distinct place he currently inhabited would be a rather good spot for a hunting grounds, despite his distaste for it; the rich were filled to the brim with evil, rooted right down to their cores, a target would be identified and located within these walls, ever so easily.
But he hadn’t been brought here on his own that night. No, his coworkers had indulged, coerced him into making an arrival in this specific establishment tonight, merely on the basis of hierarchy; to build and climb it to gain a better standing in respect and business opportunities among the wealthy. Which meant a victim was unlikely; it could, would draw attention, suspicion onto him. He needn’t familiar eyes to perceive him in case they were able to expose what he truly was; a murderer.
So he yielded, only to find himself with a few fingers of rye in his glass, being left at the bar as his coworkers from the radio station mingled among the ossified wealth. And as he leaned against the counter, watching the vibrant atmosphere, Alastors attention could only be directed onto the lit up entrance as a woman walked through ever so gracefully; you. His entire body became stiff, his teeth gritting in his smile as his heart rate pulsed in an erratic rhythm; he swore he witnessed an aura of light behind you as you ambled in the building, your arm linked with a man whose presence seemed to dim that very light you carried with you. The same man that he would soon learn was your husband.
He didn’t know what was drawing him into you at first. Undeniably, you held a beauty that he had never witnessed before, almost as if you were mere fiction; a gemstone that possessed a rarity like no other, a true one of a kind. But Alastor had seen many a beautiful women before in his lifetime; despite none of them being able to hold a candle to the light you radiated or the sense of emotion you inflicted within him, the point still remained. It didn’t cohere in Alastor’s mind what was happening; what feelings he was experiencing, the ones that had never occurred to him before, but he knew he felt a pull, a want to be in your presence, to intrude in it and embellish within it.
At first, he considered if he had a strange desire to kill you; he had only ever ended the lives of those who were ill intentioned, never having the inclination to harm someone of innocence before. But the only thing he could relate those unknown emotions that bloomed within him, the ones directed purely at you, was the similarity in emotion he attained when snuffing out the life of another. It was so different how the emotions function, behaved, but the thrill he attained from murder was oddly similar to the pump in his heart as he looked at you.
Yet as he considered puncturing his hatchet into you, ending your life before soaking in your blood and consuming your flesh, a tug of disgust and guilt doused him. He didn’t like the imagery of the light being taken from your eyes, but he also didn’t appreciate how many new emotions you were bringing out of him; he had barely glanced your way, and for some strange reason, you were able to sink your claws into his chest and fiddle with every hidden feeling his heart had either cast away long ago or simply never uncovered.
Despite having the desperate urge to bask in your presence, no matter what his intent was, he waited for his chance to approach you as the older man; the one that was much older than you, possibly a whole decade older, whom you entered the establishment with wouldn’t leave your side, clinging to you as he showed you off like you were a piece of delectable meat. Nor would he stop touching you; stilling his grubby hands all over your body as you visually showcased discomfort from his touch. 
It oddly agitated him, being forced to simply watch as another man touched you up; a strange sensation of envy coursing through him as he was forced to witness the engagement. Alastor could only observe as you continuously drank glass after glass of Gin Rickeys, clearly attempting to ease the situation you were enduring as the older man enforced his presence onto you. Your eyebrows constantly furrowing ever so slightly as a sense of hate began to etch into your features ever so slightly.
Maybe it was time for Alastor to interfere.
But as his long legs began to stride towards you, you had managed to slip away from the older man, only to push your way through the crowd and towards the darkness of the restrooms. Thinking on his feet, Alastor ordered a quick glass of Gin Rickey, the only drink you had consumed that night, intending on offering it to you as he stalked you; not comprehending that it was inherently wrong as he followed your elegant and slightly stumbling form towards the ladies room, and as he waited for you to exit the restroom, he leaned his back against the wall.
Why was he doing this? Going out of his way to stalk a belle, a lady of all things; it was extremely out of character for him, not knowing exactly what was compelling him to seek out your presence, but he knew he craved it; more than he craved to carve his hatchet in the bodies of his victims. 
Sighing in frustration, Alastor hit his head on the wall he leaned against intentionally, truly considering if this was the correct choice of action; approaching you as you were alone, in the darkness of the back of a speakeasy, planning on offering you a drink of liquid that would inevitably make you more intoxicated than you already were.
Perhaps not.
So why couldn’t he get his body to leave?
Why did the thought of not having the opportunity to speak with you crush his innards uncomfortably so?
As he began to stare into the glass that held your giggle juice, he deeply contemplated the whole ordeal, and before logic could embed within in him, you had stumbled out of the restroom, and despite how ditzy the alcohol had made you and had formed a stumble in your step, you had managed to gracefully waltz through the door, your form ever so slightly more relaxed from when you were with that man. Without truly registering how close your form was becoming; he could only hitch his breath as he took in your appearance from a closer view. 
You were truly more beautiful up close.
He couldn’t look away, even as he pushed himself off the wall, he simply couldn’t pull his gaze from you. He was so entranced that he hadn’t realised how close you had truly become until you had bumped into him ever so slightly whilst you attempted to walk back into the main hall of the speakeasy. And even though you had hardly stumbled back from the bump, Alastor, without thinking, had automatically reached out for you, gripping his grip around your bicep in his free hand to balance you; to prevent you from potentially falling.
Hadn't you seen him?
The electrical shocks of something he couldn’t describe only flowed through him as his stomach flipped; a queasy emotion floating through him from simply touching you, an oddly pleasant sensation. “I'm so sorry…” You had slurred, your soft spoken and elegant voice forcing his blood to pump through his veins faster; he wasn’t sure if he liked this or not, didn’t know if he enjoyed how you had made his heart race to this extent.
Staring at you, keeping his smile intact, just as always, Alastor held back the glass he had attained just for you; one that kept all its liquidised contents within even when you had bumped into him; he had a good balance, had to for his not so morally correct hobbies. “Don’t apologise my dear! It was my fault for being in your way!” He held up his usual facade, the charming and sought after personality he had accumulated over the years of his life; a mastery of manipulation to gain favour of his fellow people. 
Holding out his hand for yours, you accepted without even thinking about it, zero hesitation; dangerously trusting for someone you had never met. Perhaps it was simply from the alcohol you had intaken. “Such a pleasure to meet you, dear,” He had spoken with a smooth seduction rolling from his mouth without realising it. “The name’s Alastor! And yours?” His face leaned in ever so slightly as he awaited your introduction.
As he heard you relay your name to him, slipping the word through your lips, he couldn’t help but feel entranced, captivated, by not only how you spoke, but how beautiful your name was, how stunningly soft it rolled off your pink tongue; how it emerged a fluttering within the chambers of his heart. He allowed his own larynx to mimic your name back to you, finding himself becoming warm from simply vacating the word that belonged to you.
He didn’t miss how you had tensed ever so slightly as he repeated your name back to you; no, he was too observant to allow anything, even the most subtle of actions to bypass him.
So you liked it when he spoke your name.
Noted.
Originally, Alastor truly wanted to offer you the drink in his hand, but with how tipsy you already were, he didn’t think it appropriate to sink any more alcohol into your system; he wondered if you’d even remember this night from how out of it you were. So instead, he moved his arm to snake along your arm before holding onto your shoulder, unintentionally pulling you in; an action he had subconsciously enacted. “You seem a tad tipsy my dear, perhaps we should sit you down?” He said, as a guise, imbedding your thoughts with intent to help, which he oddly wanted to, but he wouldn’t deny he just simply wished to experience what it would feel like to hold you close, even on a subliminal level.
You were so small compared to him, the crown of your head standing at the height of his shoulders, your body so frail compared to his. If he truly wished it, he could snap you in half right here, right now. Swinging down the alcoholic beverage he had intended for you to consume, he attempted to alleviate not only the strange thoughts he was experiencing, but the emotions coursing through him as he pulled you in. 
Why did he oddly crave to smother you as you stood there; almost leaning against him?
It made his chest constrict, a feeling he still wasn’t certain of; not only its meaning, but if he had actually enjoyed the pang of emotions. Yet before he could truly analyse how he felt as he held you, you spoke up, agreeing to his suggestion of getting you somewhere to sit.
You’re lucky he didn’t wish to kill you; you would be a far too easy catch.
For some reason, the next words you spoke shattered everything he had accumulated over the span of a simple evening; all the raw undignified emotions that had coursed through him and his entirety, all to crash down from a simple sentence.
“My husband would kill me if he saw us.”
He took it figuratively; the killing, not being registered as a literal statement, but as an exaggerated one. Yet that’s not what inflicted the pieces within him to shatter, no, it was the fact you were wed. It made complete and utter sense to him though; a beauty like you would obviously be snatched up at the shortest notice, but the thought of you loving another man truly broke something inside him.
What was wrong with him?
He didn’t wish to submit himself into feeling such things.
Apart from your beauty, what was enforcing these emotions onto him? Was he simply blinded by looks, or was there something more, something hidden underneath that he had yet to decipher?
Reflecting, Alastor could only deliberate that it was for the best; having such strong emotions, especially ones that had been enacted simply by looking at you, it wasn’t sustainable. He was a cold hearted killer, one who hadn’t truly cared for another being since the passing of his mother; mixing you into his life, he couldn’t see it working out for him positively. 
His attention was fixated back onto your physicality as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. Every little detail of your face to be memorised within the depths of his psyche for a lifetime, forcing his breath to hitch yet again; a newly found habit he was unsure of.
Why couldn’t he decide whether he hated or loved how his breath hitched whenever you looked at him?
Before he could truly study the contents of the depths of your irises, a grating masculine voice bellowed throughout the establishment, one that had surprisingly roared over the music of jazz and swing that played ever so loudly; a voice that called your name.
He couldn’t shake off how it pulled on his heartstrings as your face began to contort from one of relaxation to perturbed, how the corners of your lips downcast as your eyes glinted with an emotion he had only witnessed once before in his entire life among the masses of people he had met.
It was the same glint that glimmered through his own eyes whenever he was in a state of murderous intent.
For some reason, that tiny little glitter of desire for death that shimmered in your eye made everything he had felt prior feel like nothing. 
All his emotions felt like they were on overdrive.
A sense, a want to entirely not only consume you, but be consumed by you doused him, instilling an intense want of attraction and infatuation within him.
His grip on you tightened ever so slightly as you tried to leave his grasp, to make your way to the voice that called for you.
He didn’t want you to leave.
But as quickly as his grip tightened, he released you, and with how easily you brushed away from him, it was obvious you hadn’t noticed.
It took a lot within him to not follow you, to not call back out to you as he watched you slowly leave his presence; but you stopped, only to turn around to look at him once more, your lips moving ever so subtly with another slur.
“You have a really pretty smile, Alastor.”
Something simply clicked in his head; the way you walked away from him, the way you had turned around just to compliment him despite seeming on edge; the way your eyes had glinted with the same expression of murderous intent, the exact same one he found himself experiencing so many times.
He knew now.
He wanted to consume you.
But not in the way he consumed his victims; no. He craved to consume you in a completely new way that had never registered in his mind before. He wanted to consume who you were, to consume your essence, the emotions you had to offer, the figurative heart that held your expressions of love and desires, the murderer within you that could oh so easily be pushed into action with just a little push.
He wanted it all.
And most of all.
He wanted to see you kill.
The desire to see you soaked in the blood of another human, splattered in organs with lust in your eyes was all he could imagine, all he could perceive as your form slowly stumbled away. He wanted to ravish you; not only in that scenario, but even now.
He wanted you entirely, but would you want him?
Unlikely.
Yet the way you expressed such murderous intent as that masculine voice had called for you, he wondered, hoped that it was your reaction to the man you had said who held your hand in marriage; if so, perhaps pursuing you wouldn’t be as taxing, as difficult as he had once believed.
And the way you had tensed as he himself had spoken your name back to you had him believing you felt something to him, even if that was delusional thinking.
Perhaps he had a chance; if only he could confirm one thing.
Despite trying desperately to hold himself back from following you, he couldn’t contain himself; couldn’t control his actions as his footsteps began imprinting against the ones you had just indented with your heels into the carpet below, inevitably stalking you once more as you reentered the lively main hall of the speakeasy. It took all but a second to spot the beauty you radiated as he stalked back into the room, merging himself in with the crowd as he continued to watch your every move; he couldn’t help but notice how your demeanour became much more stiff and formal as you began to approach the man you had entered the establishment with.
Glaring, Alastor could only crave to snuff out the life from that disgusting man, especially as his fingers began to wrap around your waist, squishing the fat of your hips before smothering your face with a kiss that you attempted to avoid.
It was plain to see that this man was your husband.
It was the first time Alastor had felt a need to kill without explicitly knowing if his victim was a person of malevolence; unlike before, where he was unsure of his emotions towards you, this was explicitly clear to him, he truly wished to end the man who had acquired ownership of you. 
He wished to be in your husband’s place; but with love glimmering in your eyes and not hate. The wrath and pure envy that poured throughout him internally as he endured watching your husband’s grip on you was inordinate. 
He wondered how you would take it if he murdered your husband; would you be disgusted just as the rest of society, or would you thank him, only to run into his arms?
The latter was clearly mere fantasy.
Yet as he continued to observe you as you interacted with your husband; your facial expressions much more clearer from this distance, he noticed that murderous glint yet again.
So it indeed was your husband who brought that out of you.
But why?
Why would you be married to a man you clearly detested to the point of desiring to murder him?
It wasn’t clear to Alastor as to the reason, but for some reason, his smile tightened at the new glimmer of information he had just obtained from merely watching you; and as he contemplated on how to truly attain you, it registered that to actually capture you entirely was to make you accept his murderous tendencies before you had even realised them; you had to accept him before knowing what he was. 
That meant encouraging you to end the life of the person who emerged that murderous intent out of you.
You had to kill your husband before he could truly attain you.
This was good; good intel, and the thought of having you covered in your husband's blood oddly had his own blood rushing to places he wasn’t ready to acknowledge nor entertain.
He never even knew he could feel such emotions in his heart, let alone the lust that began to douse him from mere thoughts and fantasies.
You were truly an enigma; bringing out every emotion out of him, even ones he had never experienced before, and he hadn’t even truly basked in anything you had to offer yet.
It was ridiculous, in a way.
Pathetic.
Yet he liked it. Liked the thrill, the unknowing of emotions that coursed through him, it was exhilarating, even so far as to exceed the thrill and emotions of killing.
Who knew he would find someone he could potentially be with?
Not him.
But with the addition of how susceptible you seemed to murder, he knew you only needed but a push, just a little tiny nudge to finally enact such an intimate act of violence; which not only meant you would most likely accept his own murderous tendencies, but it meant that most likely, he wouldn’t have to resort to locking you away in his cellar.
Blinking at himself rapidly, he wondered where the thought came from; the thought of locking you away.
A truly dangerous thought.
But one he found not exactly hating if the need arose for it.
Despite his train of thought, he continued to watch you, observe you; disliking how much it affected him that you failed to notice him hidden within the crowd, but also enjoyed being able to perceive you without your knowledge.
He continued to do as such, perceive you as you kept on drinking before ultimately, your husband began tugging you from out of the establishment; your steps more inconsistent and sluggish than before, and Alastor could only continue to stalk you, even when the night cold outside air hit his face like a ton of bricks. 
He continued to stalk you.
Even when your husband shoved you into a car before getting into the driver's seat, which was not only irresponsible, but angered Alastor on a level like no other; your husband was putting you in danger by drunk driving. Yet he couldn’t fixate on that currently; not when his intent was to follow you, so he rushed to his own car despite his own intake of alcohol, only to follow the car you sat in.
And only when the car he followed entered the estate of your home did Alastors stalking cease to exist.
For that night at least.
He had gained the information he needed now; your residency.
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𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗!<𝟹 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛/𝙾𝙲 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑<𝟹
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rileyglas · 2 days
Text
The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~
Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader
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Summary: As you try to cope with Alastor's absence, you find solace with the King of Hell, who presents an interesting offer. However, some unexpected news from Husk forces you to rethink your plans.
Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, Lucifer is a cunning shit, slow burn, Husk is going to be in trouble, and of course 18+
3.2k Words
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven (You're on it!)
**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader
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The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”
Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.
You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.
“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.
“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.
Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.
For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.
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You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.
Sooo now what?
After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.
“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?
“Is – is this your office, sir?”
He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”
You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.
He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.
“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”
Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”
His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”
“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything. Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord/Demon
He looks at you pitifully. I hate when someone looks at me like that. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” You force a smile then hang your head towards the floor to hide the truth. The wounds were too fresh. The last thing you want is another breakdown in front of him. He’s seen enough tears from me. 
Two fingers pull your chin up to his gaze, “Your eyes tell me a much different story. Tell me, does he know of your power?” he asks delicately.
Weird, Alastor never really asked me to show him what I could do. He always just said he could ‘sense’ it. Your brows gather at the realization, “Not exactly. He knows I have it, just not what I can do fully.”
He lets go of you with a sigh of relief, “Probably for the best.”
“Wait, do you – “
“I do not know, though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious. You must have something special to survive down here.” He flashes a devilish grin that makes heat rise to your cheeks.
Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have. Can’t hurt for the King to know, right? “Well you were gracious enough to show me your special collection. Let me show you something that’s special to me in return.”
Taking his hand, you lead him to his chair and motion for him to sit down. “Do you have anything sharp?” you ask. He hesitates slightly before grabbing a small knife from his workbench.
“So - I don’t know how this will work with the whole ‘fallen angel’ thing but...trust me?”
His worried eyes are surpassed by a warm smile, nodding for you to continue. You kneel in front of him and take his hand palm side up, “Sorry, this might hurt a little.” He flinches as you slice into his skin and golden fluid gushes from the wound. I didn’t know angelic blood was so beautiful.
Flipping his hand over, you press your lips to his knuckles. A hiss leaves your throat from the sting as the cut heals and blood disappears. Lucifer pulls his hand away to inspect his palm. “Wow…that is…..definitely something,” he breathed in amazement. His hands find yours as he stands to help you up from the floor, but he doesn't let go. Eyes widened in curiosity, “Do you feel anything when it happens?”  
You shrug, “Depends on the wound. Stuff like that just stings. Other times it feels like my body is getting ripped apart.”
Lucifer hums, drawing nervous little circles in your palms with his thumbs, “The gift of healing is something truly amazing.” He seems to lose himself in thought but continues to ghost across your skin. The light touch from his tracing sends you into full body chills.
“You're beautiful.” he whispers under his breath.
You catch his attention to pull him out of his own mind. “I’m sorry?”
“IT’S beautiful - the gift. I mean you’re beautiful too I just - I mean …” You try to hide your giggles as he continues to stammer like a schoolboy. It was refreshing to see him flustered like this, vulnerable and unsure of himself. He stops to take a breath and recollect his thoughts, “I'm sorry I’m just trying to figure out what you, of all people, could possibly want or need from that…demon.” His voice sharpened bitterly at the word. He really likes to poke the sore subjects doesn’t he.
“I didn’t need anything. And I wanted…it doesn’t matter what I wanted. He made his intentions clear that night that I was only some tool for him. He never cared. And I knew better but yet here I am - “
“Heartbroken…?” 
Tears swell in your eyes as he said the word. Uhg not again…Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show. 
Lucifer wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you against him. He softly presses a kiss to your forehead then to each cheek, taking your fallen tears with his lips. Your body freezes at the sudden affection. This feels wrong…
“Look, I know things are getting bad out there, but I can promise you safety - true safety. You can stay here. Away from the sinners, the exorcists, him…you can be here with me and away from all the evil that floods the streets –“ “No!” you interject louder than you mean to. He cocks his head at your sudden outburst, looking offended but softens when he sees tears continue down your face. “I see why Charlie likes you so much my dear. You both try so hard to see the best in everyone and want to help. It’s unfortunate such kind souls like yours are taken advantage of far too often.” You feel his grip tighten at your waist as he presses a hand to your cheek. This feels so very wrong…Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close
You grab his wrists, not to move them away but rather to make sure they don’t travel your body any further, “I have ways of keeping myself safe, Lucifer. I appreciate your offer but I can’t…I won’t…hide away. I refuse to be caged when there are people out there that need help.”
He lets out a low chuckle and rests his forehead on yours. His eyes close as he sighs, “Your determination and stubbornness remind me so much of her…”
“Who?” you whisper.
His lips hover above yours, “Lillith.”
This IS wrong. “Luci –“
Before you can say anything else his lips interrupt yours. His kiss is gentle yet unwavering. Your body aches from how tense your body has become. Any other sinner would kill to be in your position right now, but your mind is only focused on one person – and it isn’t the one kissing you. I hate this...
Like a saving grace, Lucifer’s phone begins ringing with Charlie’s adorable baby picture lighting up the screen. He pulls away and answers it reluctantly, “Heeeey you! How’d the m – oh? Yes, we will be right there.” He hangs up with a groan and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We will have to put this to the side for now. Apparently, the meeting with Heaven didn’t go well. Charlie needs us back at the hotel.” With his free hand he opens a portal into the hotel lobby and pulls you alongside him. 
Stepping into the lobby, his hand keeps a firm grip on yours. You walk in just in time to see Charlie bursting into tears and running upstairs with Vaggie and Alastor trailing close behind her.
“Charlie wait – “ Vaggie tries to stop her but halts at the banister, knowing she is far too upset to talk right now. Lucifer finally lets go of you and rushes to follow his daughter, shoving Alastor to the side as he makes his way up the stairs.
His face twists into a snarl at the King’s boorishness. Realizing he wasn’t alone Alastor glances over his shoulder to see you staring. A strange mixture of hurt and relief fills your body seeing him for the first time since that night. He didn’t look like his usually pristine self. He looked…tired? Disheveled? Why does he look like he’s been worse off than me? As if he’s suffered just as much? You notice his smile falter as he looks back at you before turning to see Lucifer making his way back down the stairs.
“She seems to need some time alone.” Lucifer announces with a hint of hurt in his voice. Ignoring Alastor, he walks over to you and takes your hips forcefully, making you flinch at his grip. “I think it’s best I take my leave for now. Promise you’ll at least consider my offer, please? I’d hate for you to..” he glares back at Alastor to ensure he was watching, “…get hurt in any way. You’re worth protecting my dear.” He places a long kiss to your forehead and vanishes in a stream of red ribbon. 
You rub your sides where he had grabbed you to take away the sting. Your face contorts uncomfortably at the remnants of his touch and kiss. Alastor takes a step towards you almost unconsciously. You snap to his eyes, silently begging for him not to come closer. You want nothing more than to run to him, to feel his touch, his warmth, his safety but you know it'd just hurt more. He stops, offering a nod as he dissipates into his shadow without a word.
Vaggie fills you in on what happened in the meeting with Heaven. Your stomach turns at the idea of the Exorcists targeting the hotel and your friends. You know you’re going to be needed more than ever come that day. I need to be stronger; they’ll need all the help they can get.
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You lay down for the evening hoping sleep would come easy but find your eyes only burning into the ceiling. The Extermination, Lucifer’s offer, Alastor…Your mind didn’t know what problem to try and figure out first. After lying awake for a couple hours, you give up and decide to go for a walk to clear your thoughts. As you walk through the lobby you give a quick smile to Husk who was closing up the bar for the night.
“And where are you off to so late?” he hollers, making you jump from the sudden break in silence. 
“Just need to clear my head, Husk. Have a good evening.” you continue walking towards the front doors. He quickly catches up and puts a paw on your shoulder, “Mind if I join? Some fresh air sounds pretty good right now.” You shake your head and step to the side for him to lead the way. 
The two of you walk in a comfortable silence around the small path circling the building. Distant yells and car horns fill the air from the city below. “Quite an exit from the King this afternoon. Sure got Al riled up.” Husk says casually. You stop dead in your tracks at the comment, “What do you mean?”
“If Al comes for a drink, it’s just that. A single drink. Tonight you would have thought he was trying to drown himself.” “If you came along to try to guilt trip me, don’t bother. He did this to himself.” you bite, continuing down the path in hopes he would drop the subject. 
Husk stops you again, “I ain’t trying to get in between whatever messed up relationship you two have, but as someone who is usually at the brunt of his bad moods, he hasn’t once bitten my head off since you came around. You have an…interesting…effect on that evil bastard.”
You shake off his hand, frustrated at the continued prodding. “That’s exactly what he is. Nothing more than a selfish, heartless -”
“He can’t be too heartless considering...” Husk stops himself seeing your head whip around. You walk back towards him, keeping your voice low, “Considering?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously and takes a deep breath, “Look he never confides in me. I mean he barely speaks to me other than when he needs something. The liquor really did a number -”
You grab his shoulders to stop his rambling, “What did he say?”
“I - I didn’t even know he had the word in his vocabulary -”
“HUSK!?”
“He said…he loves you.”
If it wasn’t pounding so loudly in your ears, you could have sworn your heart stopped. Any air in your lungs felt as though it was sucked out, “What…”
“That was all he said before leaving for the radio tower. It about broke him seeing Lucifer with you. I never thought he’d say something like that out loud.” Husk says quietly, as if afraid someone else would hear the confession. You stare at him for a while, trying to process what he was saying. Your head starts to spin. Is he just trying to lie his way back to me? Why would he even tell Husk anything? Did he really lose his tongue from the liquor? “I - I need to s-sit down.” your knees buckle but Husk grabs you before you hit the ground.
“Woahh - alright yeah let’s get you inside.”
He helps you inside and sits you on the lounge chair in the lobby, “You okay kid?” 
You finally catch your breath and rest your head in your hands, “Yeah, just a lot to take in today. Thanks Husk. I’ll be good.” He takes the hint that you need a few minutes to yourself and starts to head to his room. 
“Actually wait - mind pouring me a double real quick?” you try to ask but it sounds more like a demand. Husk reluctantly walks back to the bar to pour your usual, “You uh - sure this is a good idea?”
No but fuck it.  
“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you again.” you slam back the drink, not letting a drop go to waste. You needed to feel the burn to ground yourself and prepare for what you were about to do. 
Husk leaves you in the lobby. You wait a few moments to allow the liquid courage to burn through your veins, then make your way to Alastor’s radio tower.
Here we go.
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ellecdc · 1 day
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Okie but I really would love more Barty x potter sibling reader it just makes me happy I don’t care if it’s smut fluff angst I will read whatever you write please👉🏻👈🏻
love these goofs so much, thanks for your request!
Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who feels really bad for manatees
CW: talking about how it's illegal to interact with manatees and how sad that is (read: it's fluff), fem!reader, reader has long enough hair to push behind her ear
It had taken a bit of coercion on James’ part to convince Regulus to join him up in Gryffindor tower tonight - and by coercion, I mean James batted his eyelashes dramatically and promised lots of cuddles and kisses for Regulus’ ‘trouble’ - but James was feeling quite chuffed as he and his now official boyfriend stepped through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room.
Those feelings of chuffedness quickly vanished when he spotted you cozied up in an armchair built for one with none other than Barty Crouch Junior. 
“Who would you rather she be with, James?” Regulus hissed at him, alerting James to the fact that he’d been grumbling aloud.
“Anyone.” He muttered petulantly.
Regulus scoffed in response. “Please; I hardly think you’d believe anyone good enough for your sister.”
James thought that Regulus was quite right. 
“I think you’re quite right.” He admitted aloud before starting towards the two of you. 
“James Fleamont Potter.” Regulus hissed as he grabbed James roughly by the sleeve. “You look at me right now.”
James wrenched his eyes away from you to look at Regulus’ fuming (though no less beautiful) eyes, dividing his attention between two of the people he loved the most in the whole world. 
“James Potter, boyfriend or not I will drown you in the Black Lake and leave you to the sodding squid if you go over there right now.”
James ripped his gaze from where Barty’s hand sat on your knee to look at his boyfriend scandalized. “You wouldn’t.”
“You know I would.” Regulus threatened promised. “Do not fuck around with the only love he receives.”
James fought the urge to whine as he turned his gaze back over to the two of you; you were speaking animatedly, gesticulating wildly as you lamented about something James would have absolutely told you to shut the fuck up about nearly 30 seconds in.
“You can see how much he worships her, Jamie. And I think you should feel grateful knowing that there is truly no one who would be as devoted to her as he is.”
James did whine petulantly at that, even perhaps embarrassingly stomping his foot a little bit, though he would deny it if you asked. “I hate it.”
“Tough.” Regulus said simply, pulling James over to a love seat near the fireplace; close enough to see and hear the two of you, but not close enough that the pair would alert either of you to their presence. “Just be quiet and watch.”
James made a dramatic gagging sound earning him a smack up the back of the head from his boyfriend, but he acquiesced and turned his attention back to the two of you.
You were curled up on Barty’s lap; your back resting against the arm of the chair and your feet tucked under Barty’s thigh that you weren’t currently perched on.
You regularly tried to shove your feet under people that you were sitting with because your feet were always cold; James knew this because he’d swatted at your legs enough times for doing it to him. Barty didn’t seem to mind much though.
He also didn’t seem to mind that you were holding one of his hands hostage in yours as you fiddled and played with the various rings adorning his hands, speaking a million miles a minute and hardly pausing to take a breath.
“I just think it’s so sad. I mean; they don’t know! They don’t know that it’s not safe for them to be around people, but I can’t help thinking; what if they think we’re ignoring them?!” You asked emphatically.
Barty’s eyebrows rose to mirror yours as he raised his free hand to push a lock of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your theatrics.
“It’s because they have no natural predators, you see.” You continued solemnly, earning you an ‘oh, really?’ from Barty. “Many people think that sharks or alligators may pose a threat to manatees; but the species peacefully coexist. So, you know, then all of a sudden there are these long noodly manatee things in the water and the manatees are just like ‘holy shit; that’s a weird looking manatee! I’ve never seen one of those before.’ And then they try to make friends or say hello, but it’s illegal for humans to touch them.”
“Illegal?” Barty queried. “To touch an animal begging you to touch it?”
“Exactly!” You agreed quite loudly, if you asked James. He watched though as Barty’s hand moved back down to your legs and brushed his thumb in soothing circles as he kept his attention dutifully on you. “So they’re asking for pets or saying hello and trying to make friends; and people have to just…keep swimming. I’m sure they believe we must be quite rude, always ignoring them like that.”
You sounded actually quite dejected at the thought; your face falling as you looked down at Barty’s hand in your lap.
“Do you think perhaps there are mermaids where the manatees live?” Barty asked, earning him an eager gasp from you as you seemed to remember something.
“That’s brilliant Barty.” You shouted; and though James expected a cocky expression to grace Barty’s face at being told he was right about something, it never came. In fact, his face remained dutifully lovesick. 
“Did you know that muggles used to believe manatees were actually mermaids or sirens during the late 15th century?”
Barty scoffed at that. “Well they’ve clearly never seen a mermaid before if they believe those sweet things resemble one.”
“Well yes, but I think muggles imagine mermaids differently. More just a beautiful lady living in the water, maybe with a tail; the beauty standards back then idealized curvy women.”
“Obviously, curvy birds are hot.”
“I know!” You agreed quickly. “I’m sure though that if we have mermaids in the sodding Black Lake, surely they have them in the America's?”
Barty was quickly nodding his head at you. “I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that they do, Princess.”
“Yeah?” You asked hopefully.
James watched as Barty’s face broke out in a soft grin as you met his eyes. “Would I ever lie to you?”
You shook your head in response and returned your gaze to your lap where you continued playing with his hand. 
“Maybe the mermaids are friends with the manatees? They look like they’d just love some belly rubs.” You mused.
“Perhaps someone just needs to tell the mermaids to tell the manatees that it’s for their own good.”
You looked back up at that. “Yeah?”
“They could be like our underwater owl; we just travel to…”
“Florida.” You offered for him.
“Florida and find some mermaids to deliver our message.”
You seemed to consider the idea before looking back at him. “I think you might have to do it alone.”
Barty tilted his head at you and squeezed your calf. “You wouldn’t want to come with me to swim with manatees and mermaids?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I could; if a manatee approached me I would have to pet it and then the manatees would all die and it would be my fault.”
Barty hummed in understanding and brought one of his hands to your chin. “Okay, Princess; I’ll be your oceanic owl.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Barty gently pulled you by your chin to slot your lips together. “I would do anything for you.”
James, having had quite enough of seeing such sickening displays of love thank you very much, turned his very unimpressed glare to Regulus, who was already looking at him with one perfectly arched eyebrow. 
“That’s disgusting.” He grumbled indignantly. 
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t be a manatee’s owl for me? Don’t I deserve that?”
James scoffed derisively at that. “I think it’s very obvious I would; you’re the most deserving person I know!”
“Then doesn’t your sister deserve that too?” Regulus asked gently.
James’ eyes moved back over to where you were now tracing delicate shapes over Barty’s face with your forefinger, yet he still couldn’t seem to force his eyes away from lovingly gazing at you.
“Let me ask you this, Jamie.” Regulus asked, joining James in watching his friend and James’ sister from afar. “Do you think there’s a line you would draw when it comes to how far you’d go for me?”
“No!”
“No?”
“Of course not.” James insisted.
“So you’d kill your mother for me?”
What?
“What?” James asked dumbly.
Regulus smirked. “Would you kill your own mother for me?”
“Erm,”
“Jamie.”
“Yeah?”
“The answer is no; that’s the right answer.”
“Oh thank Godric.” James sighed, holding his head in his hands. 
“But Barty would; Barty would raze the entire fucking earth for Y/N.” Regulus continued. “And even if he wouldn’t,” He continued when James seemed to take issue with that. “How long would you have let her talk about manatees?”
James huffed and crossed his arms petulantly, even though he knew the answer. The answer was that he would have cut her off the second he realized she wasn’t talking about quidditch or pranks.
“She’s very loved, James. And he…” Regulus seemed to take an emotional breath as he watched his oldest friend take your hand and bring it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You Potter’s love like no one else I’ve ever known, James.”
James turned his full attention to his boyfriend and took one of Regulus’ hands in both of his.
“You love loudly, and openly, and freely, and everyone around you is better for it. Barty most of all.” 
James let out a sigh and kissed Regulus’ knuckles. 
“Fine.” He relented in faux irritation. 
Regulus chuckled and pressed a shy kiss to James’ shoulder. “Don’t worry James, you Potter’s are in the protection of Slytherin’s now; we protect our own.”
And whether or not James particularly liked Barty, if there was one thing he knew to be true; no one would be able to mess with you with the likes of him around.
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