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turtletaubwrites · 6 months

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Wrong Side of the Bars

Thank you anon for this lovely request, and thank you all for voting on which wip I worked on next! I hope you enjoy it! 🐊

Pairings: Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3990

Ao3 Link

Summary: Your promotion landed you in hell, otherwise known as Level 6 of Impel Down. All you wanted to do was work this shit job so you could move on up, but there's one prisoner that won't leave you alone. It turns out those long nights go by faster with a bit of company.

Author's Note: Oh, Sir Crocodile 🐊🥰 I would cave so fucking fast

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Large Cock, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Spit, Prison Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Unprotected Sex, (stay safe out there!), Hair-Pulling, Possessive Behavior, Come Eating, Biting, Bondage, Power Imbalance, I'd Commit Felonies For This Man

“You’re new.”

He wasn’t the first prisoner to try to talk to you, but he was the first that you made eye contact with. You cursed yourself for that, not wanting to make any sort of connection with these monsters as you pushed their meals through the slots, and monitored the hell that was Level 6.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing trapped down here in the muck?”

Sir Crocodile.

You had studied all of the terrifying prisoners you’d be guarding, but there was something about this man that scared you.

That fear had to show on your face as he smirked down at you. He was so tall, at least a couple feet taller than you, and the scar that tore his face in half across his cheekbones had your mouth going dry.

He chuckled as he leaned down, the handcuffs clinking against metal as he rested his forearms on the bars, his hands dangling out of the cell.

Not hands. Hand. And a gleaming metal hook.

“Stay in your cell,” you ordered, backing up too fast as his smile widened.

Why the fuck did they let him keep that thing? It looks fucking deadly.

“My apologies, miss…” he paused, pulling his arms back as he waited for you to fill in the blank.

“You may address me as ‘guard.”

He didn’t.

Sir Crocodile called you “pretty thing” every shift.

It didn’t help that the guard post station was right next to his fucking cell. You knew this was going to be a shit job, but you were working your way up, and this promotion could get you placed somewhere cushier in the long run. Plus, the berries they had to pay to convince anyone to come down here was impressive.

These prisoners were the worst of the worst, and working down here was never going to be easy.

But you didn’t expect to have silver eyes watching your every move, matched by that silver tongue that got you flustered all too easy. You were too embarrassed to ask the other guards if he treated them the same way.

“How’s your morning going, pretty thing?”

“It’s nighttime,” you deadpanned, grimacing that you’d answered him again. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it was getting harder to ignore the only person you could talk to during these long shifts in the cold, dark, gloom of Impel Down.

“I guess it doesn’t matter down here,” he hummed, sitting on the floor close to the bars to see you better.

There aren’t even any other prisoners in this section. They were all on death row, and now I’m stuck posted next to this… this…

Admitting it to yourself pissed you off, but Crocodile was charming. And fucking hot.

He rested his head on his fist while he smirked at you, and you braced yourself for more of that deep voice.

“Why are you down here?”

The lack of the nickname added to the genuine tone in his words, and you gave in.

“I got a promotion.”

Crocodile leaned back, surprised laughter booming through the air. Your skin flushed, and he squinted up at you as he shook his head.

“You’re joking, right? A pretty thing like you, stuck in the dark? Bringing slop to bad men like me? That can’t be a fucking promotion,” he balked, tapping his hook against the bars to emphasize his point.

Gritting your teeth, you kept your eyes away from that cell as the ex warlord laughed softly to himself for the rest of your shift.

“What’s it like to have devil fruit powers,” you asked, tapping fingers on your desk as you stared at him. Barely a month had gone by, and now you were spending hours every shift talking to this dangerous criminal.

“It’d be a lot more enjoyable without this tacky jewelry,” he complained, waving the sea prism stone cuffs in the air.

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going all evil.”

Ice sunk to your gut as you caught his eyes. You had a feeling he was not someone to disrespect, even if he was locked up.

“I like you,” he announced, huffing a laugh.

The praise had you digging your fingers into your thighs, your voice a bit too high for the rest of the night.

“Are you seeing someone?”

“Excuse me,” you coughed, sitting up from your too relaxed position.

“I can’t imagine you have a lot of options on this rock,” he wondered aloud, tilting his head down toward you. “It has to be pretty lonely.”

Chills ran over your body as his voice went low, those innocent words laced with the promise of sin.

“That’s none of your business,” you scoffed, breathy as you tried not to squirm.

“I suppose not,” he hummed, leaning against the bars. “But you work such a stressful job. I bet you need someone to help you relax a bit. I know you deserve it.”

It was like his words were on your skin, heating you up. You didn’t realize just how fucking pent up you were until he started torturing you.

“I’d never ask you to let me out,” he assured, raising his arms in front of him, rattling the chain between his cuffs. “I know you don’t have the key to these cuffs, so there wouldn’t be a point in leaving this cage on my own anyway.”

“I’m not letting you–”

“Like I said, pretty thing, I won't leave this cell until these cuffs are gone. But I do want to give you some relief. You could join me in here for a while. We’ve got all night, no one else is around. Wouldn’t you like a little help with all of that stress?”

“No– I…” you choked out, shaking your head.

How could I let things go this far? I’ve been so unprofessional, talking to him like this.

Crocodile interrupted your internal criticism with a laugh, his eyes pouring over you.

“No worries, doll. I’m sure you’ll be thinkin’ about it later. You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

“Don’t you mean if,” you corrected, trying to gain some footing back.

“No,” he teased, giving you a sly wink before turning away, laying on his cot as he hummed to himself.

Your thoughts turned to chaotic noise as your brain tried to delete that conversation. Staring at his back while he laid down for the rest of your shift, you willed yourself to have some sense of self preservation.

Finally in your own bed, you closed your eyes, hoping to see nothing but inky blackness.

But all you could see were silver eyes, a golden hook, and a devilish smile.

Fuck.

“Why should I trust you?”

Your hoarse whisper raised his brow as he stood in front of you, your own body closer to the bars than you’d normally risk.

“I won’t survive this place alone with these cuffs on, and I’m not stupid enough to risk it. I’m fucking bored, and I could use some company. Why would I hurt the only pretty thing I get to see down here?”

Trusting this criminal would be insane. I could lose my job. I could be thrown behind bars. He could fucking kill me, even without his devil fruit powers. Don’t fucking do this. Don’t be a fucking idiot. Don’t–

“Okay,” you breathed, your crime barely audible as he watched your guilty lips.

Crocodile’s crooked grin made you shiver, and you caught yourself chewing on your lip to keep from returning a shy smile.

“Such a good girl,” he teased, stepping away from the bars. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

His praise and his promise ran through you like electricity, and your body twisted with need while you struggled with the keys.

“Take your time, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even his laughter felt delicious, like you needed to get closer, to taste it on your tongue.

The heavy click of metal stopped your breath, and Crocodile stood as still as a statue while the door swung open. He didn’t move a muscle, as if trying not to spook you.

Each step damned you further, until you were in the monster’s cage. You locked yourself in, the cold ring of keys stuffed into your pocket as you turned to face him.

Crocodile looked at you with such satisfaction that it made your toes curl, as if you’d already given him everything. It only took him a couple of steps to cross the room, and in a moment you were staring up at him, your body on fire with anticipation.

The chain of the cuffs stretched as he reached his hand to your cheek. That large thumb was so gentle as it stroked your skin, and you let out a sigh.

Then you gasped, his thumb just a distraction for that golden hook as it pulled at your collar, that sharp point dangerously close to your throat.

“Take these off before I ruin your little uniform.”

The words could have been a request, a command, or a threat, but the heat in his voice had you pulling at your tie, frantic to obey him.

Just as you tossed the last bit of clothing to the side, he knelt down to kiss you, pressing the bare skin of your back against the metal bars.

Crocodile kissed you with more care than you’d expected, as if he were eating a fine meal, tasting every note, enjoying the luxury he’d earned or taken. As you opened to him, he explored you, his large tongue so controlled.

Until you needed more, digging your nails into his slicked back hair, moaning into his mouth.

Thick fingers trailed between your thighs until they pulled away wet. He chuckled at the little whines you let out when he broke contact, tasting you on his fingers.

“So eager,” he hummed, resisting your grabby hands to pull him back in. “Hang on to the bars.”

You were glad for the order, because the sight of this menacing villain lying on his back, and sliding his head between your legs would have knocked you over.

“Don’t be shy, pretty thing. Let me take care of all that stress for ya.”

I can’t believe this is happening.

He laughed as you turned around, mumbling that 'the other way was fine,' before you lowered yourself down.

The first touches were like that kiss, controlled and steady. He pressed his lips against your clit, then his tongue explored, just as gentle as before.

Your hips squirmed above him as you held yourself up, until he growled against your flesh. That sensation alone sent your eyes rolling back, then his hand gripped your waist to shove you down. His hook was trapped behind your back, the chain of his cuffs rubbing against your ass with every movement.

All the control he’d shown before was gone, and you bit one of your wrists not to scream. Looking down into those wicked eyes was a mistake, as you had to fight your body not to collapse, not to send his name echoing through this desolate, stone hell.

His tongue was so long, you couldn’t believe how deep he could taste you. He invaded you, trying to eat his way inside your body, like a dog chewing through a bone. More of his moans and growls vibrated through you as you rode along the planes of his face.

“Fuck, oh gods, I’m…” you choked out, your knuckles turning white against the bars as you came on this criminal’s face.

His grip on you stayed firm as you spasmed, forcing you to stay in place while he lapped up your pleasure.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, still twitching when he finally released you. You’d barely laid beside him when he was on you, filling your mouth with the taste of you as you shivered against the stone floor.

“You taste too fucking good to be trapped down here,” he rasped between kisses, trailing his lips down your jaw and neck.

“I’m not trapped.”

His teeth clamped down, just the threat of a bite at the crook of your neck. Your breath caught, your body unable to hide the fact that it was more excited than afraid to have this predator at your throat.

Crocodile gave your body what it wanted, pressing his teeth into your flesh slowly, tracing his fingers along your thigh. You melted as the pressure grew sharp, your eyes fluttering as you gave him a breathy moan.

His tongue teased over the mark he’d made, and you were grateful for your uniform’s high collar before you forgot who and where you were again.

His fingers took that moment to find you, two plunging into your still twitching cunt. He kissed you again, tasting your moans as he added another thick finger.

Digging your nails into his arms, you struggled to breathe through his kiss as he stretched and played with you.

“Come here, pretty thing,” he teased, helping you move unsteadily toward the cot. He leaned over you, kissing your temple before breathing more promises against your ear, sending chills over your skin.

“I’m gonna fuck all of that stress out of your perfect, little body,” he whispered, letting you hang onto him as you gasped. “But first, you're gonna use that pretty mouth to get my cock nice and messy for you, alright?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, biting your lip as you watched him toss his thin pillow to the floor. He smirked at you before tugging down his striped pants. Kicking them out of the way, he sat on the bed with his legs spread wide. Those heavy balls hung down over the side of the mattress while you stared at his veiny cock.

“It’ll fit, sweetheart,” he winked, resting his arms and cuffs between his legs as he waited for you. “Just get it nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.”

You’d already thrown out every last bit of self preservation the second you walked into this cell, so you sank down to your knees on the pillow, and looked up at him.

He was so scary.

But the satisfied way he looked at you made you want to say yes to anything, just to keep those silver eyes on your skin. He lifted his arms over you until you were caged between his long legs and the meat of his body, with the chains on his wrists tickling your back.

Taking him in your hands, you almost lost your nerve as you moved along that velvet girth, but his deep voice pulled you back.

“Mm, just like that, beautiful.”

Desperate for more of that praise, you pressed your lips to his swollen tip. His mouth parted when you tasted that bead of precum, teasing it around his tip with your tongue while your hands kept stroking his length.

The noises he made were low and pleased as you took what you could of him into your mouth. You gave everything, tasting and sucking him becoming your only purpose, spurred on by more intoxicating words.

“So gorgeous with your mouth all full. Just a little sloppier now. You can drool on my cock like a good girl, can’t ya?”

Moaning around him, you let as much spit as you could drip down his shaft, gasping when he grabbed your hair to pull him off of you.

A line of spit connected your lips to his cock as you blinked up at him. His eyes were dark, and you whimpered as he tightened his fingers in your hair, the sensation arching your back.

“Lay down,” he commanded as he released your hair, standing slowly to tower above you. He tugged the thin blanket off the bed with his hook, holding it out to you with a dangerous tilt to his head.

Spreading the fabric across the rough floor, you laid down with the pillow under your head. He watched your every move, his stillness making your breath shallow again.

You didn’t just want to be meek prey for this crocodile to devour. You wanted to devour him back.

I want this.

Meeting his dark eyes with your own, you spread your thighs, teasing your fingers over your clit.

“I’m wait–”

Crocodile went to his knees, cutting you off with a laugh. He caged you in with his elbows above your head, the sound of metal hitting stone making you gasp.

“Barely had a taste, and my pretty thing's already greedy? Show me where you want it,” he taunted, rubbing that thick length through your folds.

Just the touch of him had your eyes rolling back, but you obeyed. You wrapped shaky fingers around him, guiding him to your entrance before you tried, and failed, to relax.

“Breathe deep for me, babydoll. You want me to fill you up, don’t you,” he rasped, pressing just the tip of him inside, already bringing a moan to your lips.

“That’s right,” he praised as you tried not to squirm away from his slow invasion. “I knew you’d love taking my cock. Mm, I felt that. Is that what you want, pretty thing? You want mean ol’ Crocodile to fuck you deep?”

The stretch had taken your thoughts, left you with tears in your eyes, and the hint of drool in the corner of your lips.

All you could do was pant, and whine, and beg.

“Please, fuck me, Crocodile. I–”

He hadn’t met your hips yet, but he drew himself out and started fucking into you, tearing a scream from your throat.

Without stopping, he brought his large hand to cover your mouth, the chain of his cuffs hitting against the top of your head with every thrust.

Crocodile slowed down, rocking his hips up into you. He pushed further, until you were shaking at the sensation of him fully hilted, stretching you further than you’d ever felt.

His hand left your face as his voice rolled over you again.

“As much as I wanna hear you screaming my name, you’ve gotta keep it down. Can you do that for me, pretty?”

“Mhm,” you whined, needing him to start moving again.

Another filthy scream left your throat, until you choked on two large fingers.

“Looks like you need to practice your fucking manners, sweetheart,” he scolded, gagging your screams away while he fucked you across the stone floor, the blanket slipping away bit by bit with each powerful thrust.

Every single thing about this moment was overwhelming, and as much as Crocodile’s praise had sent you leaping into danger, his scolding words made you shatter into pieces. Your orgasm crashed over you, your nails raking over any part of him you could reach while pleasure made your body thrash.

“Fuuckk, you’re taking my cock so well.”

He emphasized those words with his body, filling you completely, over and over again

“When I get out of here, I’m taking you with me. No more dungeons for my perfect, pretty thing. You hear me?”

He huffed a laugh when you moaned around his fingers again, then his thrusts went ragged as he gave you more orders.

“Come for me while I fill you up, pretty. Play with that little clit. I wanna feel this pussy milking– Ha, you’re such a good girl.”

You were barely human anymore, with your eyes crossed as drool trailed down your cheek where his fingers pressed into your mouth, and your spasming flesh that begged for more abuse as he fucked you into the stone.

“So good for me,” he grunted, pumping into you a few more times as you felt his thick cock pulsing and twitching. “My pretty thing…”

The heat and pressure of his come pouring into you had you arching your back, whimpering around his fingers as he whispered those last few words, claiming you in ways he couldn’t mean.

You were fucking lost. As unreal as the night had seemed, it felt as if it were the only real night you’d ever had. All the adrenaline and pleasure had made you fucking high, and you were still reeling when he left you empty. He pulled you gently until your head was in his lap as he sat against the wall, wiping the drool from your cheek.

“So, how’s that stress now, babydoll? Feel better,” he asked with that crooked smile.

“Fuck,” your breathed, your eyes going wide with panic as the real fucking world crawled back into your brain.

I’m fucked. I’m gonna get fired, or arrested, or fucking killed, or–

“Hm. Looks like you need another round to clear that up for you.”

A nervous laugh escaped you, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of him again.

“Don’t worry,” he rasped, licking his lips as he looked down your body. “I’ll just clean up the mess I made. Then you can pretend you never let Sir Crocodile fuck you in his dirty prison cell. Is that what my pretty thing wants?”

Your mind was still screaming, but your body knew. It wanted that skilled tongue to drink every drop of him out of you, and he laughed again when you moaned at the thought.

The ex warlord was gentle, cleaning the evidence with his tongue, and bringing you to bliss one more time as he sucked on your clit like a piece of candy. He kissed along your body, a mix of teasing and praise floating over you, until his gentleness ended.

“What,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open while he shook your face with a firm grip on your jaw.

“It’s time to go sweetheart.”

“Oh. Oh.”

The criminal sat on his cot, grinning at you while you panicked, teetering on one foot when you pulled your pants on.

“Is everything–”

“You look fine,” he soothed, still smirking. “You look like a guard, although you’re still on the wrong side of the bars.”

Nodding too fast, you pulled the heavy keys out of your pocket, but they clattered to the floor as fingers twisted into your hair.

Crocodile yanked you toward him, the sensation of him holding you this way going from delicious to terrifying in seconds. All you could do was stare up into those cold eyes, all of your self defense training evaporating in the presence of such a predator.

“I may be stuck in this cage for now,” he warned, leaning his face down to yours, “but you’re mine. Do you understand?”

Your body responded before you could think, your eyes rolling back as you gasped.

“There’s my pretty thing,” he praised, kissing away the fear as he loosened his grip on your hair. “Now go get some rest. You’ve got a long night of work ahead of you tomorrow, don’t you?”

Sitting at the guard post for the rest of your shift felt surreal. You knew that you had stepped out of that cell, and locked the door. You knew that he was still trapped, and you were still free. But even though you were the one with his mark left on your body, it felt like he’d kept a piece of you in that cage with him.

Still, your mind and body struggled between fear, and the memories of his voice and his touch while you pleaded with the clock for your shift to end so you could take a fucking shower.

Crocodile left you alone for once, this little corner of hell silent for the first time in weeks. Yet, you knew he wasn’t asleep. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him sitting on his cot, darkness shrouding everything except for the faint gleam of gold.

The shift finally ended, and your steps echoed through the hall. The words you’d heard at the end of every shift for weeks met your ears again, but now they set you on fire, fear and desire speeding your pulse.

“Goodnight, pretty thing.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Shit job, but the benefits sound nice 😈🐊

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

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#fic requests #sir crocodile smut #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #one piece smut #smut #one piece x reader #x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #turtletaub fics

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klapollo-week · 1 month

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The prompts for Klapollo Week 2024 have been finalized!

Thanks so much to all who submitted prompt ideas and all who helped vote for their favorite prompts. Now, without any further ado, it’s time to reveal this year’s prompts!

Sunday, September 29, 2024: Pets

Klavier and Apollo both have pets that they take care of; a cat named Mikeko for Apollo, and a dog named Vongole for Klavier. How do these two creatures interact? How do they adapt to new, strange people visiting their owners suspiciously often? How do these furry friends influence their owners and their owners’ love lives? Are there possibly… other pets that could enter the picture?

Monday, September 30, 2024: Magic

Magic is an especially big part of Apollo’s life- whether he likes it or not, he’s surrounded by it. How does this affect his relationship with Klavier? Does Trucy rope them together to be her assistants at her performances? In another way, some people say that falling in love can be magical in its own right…

Tuesday, October 1, 2024: Music

On the other hand, music is a big part of Klavier’s life! How does his music career change after meeting Apollo? Does he release singles that serenade an undying love for a mysterious man with a notable forehead? Or does his music stay private, reserved for the ears of the one he loves?

Wednesday, October 2, 2024: Late nights

Klavier and Apollo can be major workaholics at times, staying up late to finish working on tough cases and going over notes before court the next morning. Do they ever spend these late nights together? Or instead of research sessions, are these late nights spent rather as lighthearted get-togethers where they can escape the pressure of finding the truth?

Thursday, October 3, 2024: Scars

Scars can be metaphorical as much as they can be physical. Are Klavier and Apollo’s scars physical? Are they found on arms or legs or chests? Or are they metaphors for the demons of the past, found only within the depths of their minds? How do they help each other heal?

Friday, October 4, 2024: Roleswap au

An oldie but a goodie, Klavier and Apollo have parallels in their stories and personalities, but also have staunch differences! How do things change when they swap roles with each other? Do they act the same as usual, or do they act different? How does this change their love?

Saturday, October 5, 2024: Poison

A weapon and a tool for the crafty and despicable, Klavier and Apollo know that poison is an all too common means of murder. How are Klavier and Apollo affected by poison? Could poison possibly represent anything for them? How does it relate to the ghosts of their pasts and the presence of their future?

Don’t forget to use the hashtag #KlapolloWeek2024 so your works can be archived! Make sure to familiarize yourself with our Archive Criteria and FAQ when participating. We’re excited to see what you all come up with for this year, and we’ll see you all soon!

#klapollo #apollo x klavier #klavier x apollo #kyodoroki #apollo justice #klavier gavin #ace attorney

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starlightazriel · 16 days

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bee 10

series desc: modern best friends >lovers au(fem reader, tattoo artist coke boi az haha) part 10 psa: not everyone will like this part lol don't kill me borderline domestic violence/abuse

warnings: 18+, rough sex where reader is drunk(blurry consent lines, i know i have issues im sorry), unprotected sex, spanking, praise, bj, possessive az, dark az, more groveling, drug/alcohol addiction, az having lots of inner monologue, self loathing, depression

a/n: canon az would never do this omg hes an angel with women bee series az however is a hot mess PROCEED W CAUTION!!!! kisses xoxo

AFTER COMMENTS RECEIVED I ADDED A POLL FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS REWRITE OR PART 11 VOTE HERE

wc: 4.7k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist<3

ten

Azriel was watching the front door for hours. He knew she was back in town, he saw Kat's story. Y/n standing next to her, drink in hand. A grin, bloodshot drunken eyes, swollen from crying too, a tiny jean mini skirt, a crop top that was definitely Kats as it stretched too tightly over her generous breasts, nipples rings showing through the taut fabric. It had taken everything in him not to throw his phone through the flat screen. She was out looking like that, and he was here, miserable, sober besides all the weed he had smoked, which didn't do much for him anymore.

12:23 am.

He did clean up the house a bit for her... He couldn't let her walk into the mess he had created. He started with all of the trash, moved to the dishes, put any paraphernalia away back in his room, picked up all of his clothing strewn about the house.

1:37 am.

Fuck. The drawings. Azriel hesitated in front of her door, though he had been spending a lot of time in there recently, knowing she was back in the city, it somehow felt like a violation. That was ironic, considering how all of this had even started between them. It took effort not to physically cringe when entering her room, and his stomach twisted, cheeks burning at the realization that she had been in here. She had stopped here earlier before going to Kats. There was her bag. Right there, in the corner. His eyes settled on her bed, three of his drawings laid there carefully. He swallowed thickly as he looked at the drawings, each one made in the peak of his mental breakdown he had been going through since she left. One was of their hands, his own scarred flesh against her delicate smooth skin. One of her by herself, laughing, happy, his gut twisted. The last, of them kissing, him holding her face in his hands, tear stains dotted the page and that feeling of guilt that he was all too familiar with lately settled, dragging him down with it.

2:01 am.

Fuck. What the hell was she even doing? Where was she? He let out a heavy sigh before he picked up each and every one of the messy drawings he had done and brought them into his own room, shoving them deep into the filing cabinet by his desk. That was when the pacing about the entire house began— he couldn't possibly sit still now.

2:22 am.

Twenty minutes of pacing wasn't him doing any good, so on went the TV, he thought some cartoons should make him feel better and he settled on CatDog. Another spliff, some chips, cartoons humming in the background. It was better than going out of his fucking mind wondering what she was doing. Which he was still doing— but at least the mindless cartoons helped to drown out the voices screaming in his head, and the insatiable desire to do a line. He had forced himself to stay sober today... He wanted a clear head when he spoke to her.

2:46 am.

Azriel froze when he heard the doorknob turn, his heart beginning to pound wildly. He hadn't seen her since that night on her parents porch. What was she going to say? He had been preparing himself for the worst.

"You cleaned," a small hiccup, flushed cheeks, nervous, sad eyes avoided his as she entered the apartment. She was looking around, anything to avoid eye contact.

"I did," he rose to his feet, dropping the end of the spliff into a the ash tray he had been using. He took a few strides closer, freezing in the hallway when he finally got a good look at her. Lipstick smudged across her lips, hair disheveled, stray pieces falling around her face and eyes.

"Az," she whispered, her eyes widening slightly as they met stare that was growing angrier with each passing second, the emotion emanated from him, filled the apartment like a heavy shadow that pressed into her chest, that made her want to cower away from him.

He didnt know what it was, what over came him but he was in front of her in an instant, long scarred fingers grabbling her face, jaw clenched, grip tight around her own jaw, her cheeks squished, smudged lips smushed together. She's afraid of you, stop. She yelped quietly, eyes wild, wide with fear as she stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.

Stop now.

"What the fuck did I say?" it was a low growl, deep from his throat, she was drunk, he could tell, she could barely keep herself up, her knees wobbled, both hands curling around his arm, trying to pull him off of her. He knew this wasnt okay— no this was wrong, so very wrong.

Let her go.

"Az," she whimpered softly, her eyes glazed with tears.

Fucking stop— irreversible damage Azriel, stop now, before you can't.

"I told you not to fucking play with me. You fucking reek like booze and you look like a cheap fucking whore," a lie, his eyes flashed as it passed his lips, she thrashed slightly trying to free her face from his grip. "Stop fucking moving," he grunted, releasing his grip on her face to grab her neck, his fingers squeezing against her soft flesh, he felt her swallow beneath his grip, his blood thrummed.

"Az stop," she begged, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his arm, eyes wild and nervous as her nails dug into his skin.

"This is mine, its all mine," he rasped, his other hand roaming roughly over her body, "I swear to fuck— y/n if you gave my pussy up," he nearly choked on the words, his blood boiling and stomach churning at the thought.

This is wrong Azriel— stop, stop now. You should be on your knees begging forgiveness, stop.

This wasnt him, this wasnt supposed to be happening... This was his father— this is how his father treated women, not him.

"Az, I didnt," her voice broke as she rasped, her eyes were afraid but also— tender, because she knew him, she knew he didnt mean to treat her this way, she understood him on a level that no one else could.

"I should slap the fuck outta you for coming home like that," his fingers loosened on her neck, a sigh of relief escaping her lips with the motion. He didnt mean it, he would never hit her, his chest tightened, her eyes flashing as his words sunk in.

What the fuck is wrong with you? She's never going to talk to you again.

"Im sorry," she slurs softly, her glazed gaze dropping as if she couldn't look him in the eyes, guilt settled on her face. No, this is my fault, don't do that, don't look like that because of me.

"Don't be sorry," His voice was still firm but his eyes softened, swallowing the lump in his throat. I don't deserve you, run. Fucking run. "Just be a good girl and take off your whoring outfit," he finally loosed his fingers from her neck with a gentle push and she stumbled back, wobbly on her feet, she's drunk as fuck, don't fucking do this Az, this is fucked. Youre fucked, youre fucked in the head.

"You missed me didnt you?" she relaxed again allowing a small drunken giggle to escape her lips, she steadied herself on the near by side table before beginning to undress. His eyes followed her movements as her fingers slid over her silky skin and she slowly unclasped the dainty clips on her high heels revealing the fresh looking French tipped toes, his mouth watered at the sight of her.

Tell her how much you miss her. Tell her the truth, tell her youre sorry. Put her to bed Azriel, change her clothes, put her to fucking bed you sick fuck.

Anger outweighed his desire to do the right thing, he couldn't stop himself, what if this was his last chance to fuck her? To feel her?

"Keep going," he encouraged, his hard cock aching in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his sweats, he could feel the precum leaking from the tip, painfully so, he hadn't gotten his nut off since last time they'd fucked weeks ago. He watched as she slid the little mini skirt down her long smooth tattooed legs, many of them he had done himself. She looked so fucking good, shit he'd missed her. "Mhmm," he hummed to himself, his eyes burning into her skin, not looking away for even a second. She shimmied off the crop top next, her braless breasts bouncing deliciously as she freed them from the tight top. A soft involuntary groan escaped his lips at her now near bare body before him. He took a step toward her, placing his hand under her chin and tilting her head up so he could inspect her, she shivered slightly at the touch and he pressed his thumb lightly into her chin, his eyes raking over her bare skin.

"Azriel," she whispered, squirming slightly under his gaze, he froze at the small purply spot behind her ear, a little hickey.

"Oh youre so fucked," he let out a soft breath, poking the small bruise, she let out a small yelp, flinching away from him.

"Az! What is wrong with you?!"

So many things.

"What is wrong with you?" a soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes growing darker with each second that passed, he reached behind her, his body pressing against hers as he did, her breath caught, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. In a swift motion he cleared everything off of the side table in the hallway, the ceramic bowl that held their keys cracking on the floor, she winced, opening her mouth to say something but he grabbed her chin tightly again, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You come into my house, at almost three am, dressed like a fucking thot with a hickey on your neck, face all fucked up," he released her jaw aggressively, her head thrown to the side slightly, she let out a soft whimper, rubbing her chin. "Who gave it to you?" he demanded, placing his hand on her shoulder and whirling her around, pressing her against the table so her hips were flush with it, another small whine escaped her lips.

"It doesn't matter Az-"

"Tell me," he growled softly, his hand connecting with her ass in a sharp smack, she flinched, her hand finding the edge of the table and she held tightly. "Tell me," a warning edge in his tone

"E-Eris!" she yelped out softly, bracing herself for the next impact.

"Yeah, youre so fucked," he chuckled dryly, without an ounce of humor in his tone. Rage was coursing through his blood, red, red was all he could see. Fucking Eris, why? Why him? He didnt know why it infuriated him so much, maybe because he was so different from Azriel, practically opposites. How could she even be attracted to both of them? His pale perfectly smooth skin and red hair like the fucking devil, immaculate cleanness, infinite pockets and endless confidence and suave. He hated all of it.

"Az please," she begged, and he was too angry to even acknowledge the damage he knew he was doing.

"Youre soaking wet," he yanked her thong down, exposing her bare ass to him, his mouth watered again at the sight. "Is it because you like when I rough you up like this?" another smack to that same reddened spot on her bum followed by another soft whimper, her fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly. "Or is it because you like redheaded pricks?"

"Both," she bit back, her words slurred, he laughed again, that same humorless cold chuckle before his hand connected with her skin again, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. A shaky breath released from her lips as she braced herself for more, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Makes me sick you let him put his hands all over you. Act like a whore get fucked like one," his gravelly voice laced with intent as he released his hard cock from his sweats, they pooled on the floor at his feet as he wrapped his fingers around his thick length. She gasped softly, wincing at the sting as he slapped his cock on the round of her ass in that same spot he had spanked numerous times. His teeth sunk into his lower lip, cheeks flushed with anticipation, he had missed this.

"Youre mine, you understand me?" he asked, his tone sharp as he slid his leaking tip over her entrance, he hissed softly under his breath at the feeling of her wet cunt on his most sensitive skin.

"Yes Az, yes I understand," she rasped softly, another soft yelp leaving her lips as he shoved his cock into her, a low guttural groan leaving his lips. He had missed this so much.

"Good girl," he ground his hips against her ass, pinning her against the table, another small cry left her lips as he pulled his throbbing cock nearly all the way out and back in, the table shook beneath them. His thrusts were greedy, quick and unforgiving as she fell apart beneath him. Her pussy clenched around him, the tip of him dragging across her g-spot with every forceful stroke.

"Az," she let out a broken whimper, her mouth falling open, face twisting in blissful pleasure as she came all over his cock. He rasped a breath, surprised he hadn't been the one to cum first. Maybe she had been wound just as tightly as he was.

"Oh?" he breathed out, panting softly from the pace, small beads of sweat forming at his temples. "You came already?" he asked, a prideful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he ground his hips his cock filling her up so perfectly, her creamy release leaking around the base of his cock. She only whined softly in response which was only broken up by a soft yelp when he abruptly yanked his cock from her. Azriel grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up on wobbly legs before pushing her down on her knees.

"Go on," he grunted, his eyes glazed as he stared down at her, she was drunk as hell. He swallowed, wrapping his fingers into her hair and tapping his cock on her face, she loosed a breath, her jaw dropping open for him. She gagged as his cock hit her throat, not nearly fitting, he moaned, holding her head in place and fucking her face. "Fuck baby, good girl," he panted softly, his cheeks flushed, eyes glued to her, she moaned around him, her eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as he brushed the back of her throat over and over. He hummed in approval as she swirled her tongue around his tip, dragging it along the underside of his cock, over his balls and then back up, her lips wrapping around him again.

Azriel cursed under his breath, his fist tightening in her hair as he released his thick ropes of milky cum into her mouth, she nearly choked as it shot to the back of her throat, one of her hands gripped the back of his knee tightly as she swallowed every last drop and sucked his cock clean. She panted, shrinking down onto the floor a bit her knees nearly buckling beneath her. He released her hair as she sunk down, a shaky breath escaping her lips as he did, his gut wrenched at the sight of her. On the floor beneath him, body dusted with red marks that he knew would turn to purple by the morning, he left them there. Azriel swallowed thickly as he tucked his cock back away into his pants before leaning down, putting his hands under her arms to lift her.

"Come on, get up," his tone is soft as he helped her up, once she was on her feet he easily he picked her up, and she rest her head on his chest as he brought her to the bathroom. "You feel lighter... You eating?" he asks, the guilt beginning to gnaw at his gut.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking sick piece of shit.

"Mhm," was her only response, he let out another small sigh before setting her down on her feet. "Where's all my pictures?" she slurred softly, her eyes raking her her room.

"Put em away," he muttered, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he rifled through her clothing retrieving a soft cotton pair of panties and a long t shirt.

"I liked them Az," she mumbled lazily, her eyes closed as he dressed her in her more comfortable clothing. He winced a little at her words

"Bed time," he breathed, steadying her on her feet before scooping her up in his arms again, and placing her into her bed. He tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking them around her body.

"Why didnt you tell me you were moving to Vegas Azriel?" she asked, her words still slurred, he swallowed hard, tugging at his hair as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"We should talk tomorrow," he muttered, knowing she probably wouldn't remember the conversation if they had it now. She only nodded, her eyes still closed. Azriel reached out hesitantly and gently rubbed her back as she fell asleep.

He stayed there, watched her sleep, the soft glow from the string lights she had put up along one of her walls the only thing iGuilt gnawed at his gut, at his insides, he wanted to jump out of his own skin.

She deserved so much more than him... The little girl that he had shared his favorite candy with in front of her house, the girl that had saved him, so many times— she deserved the world, and he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't even keep her happy, the dark circles and the drop in weight proved that. It was his fault. All of it.

All day, he had gone all day without a single line.

And now— after he had taken advantage of her, put bruises on her, fucked her while she was too drunk to say no, said horrible fucking things he didnt mean...

Now he needed a fucking line.

A soft groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, pain, I was in pain everywhere— felt like I had been hit by a damn bus. My head pounded from the amount of alcohol I had consumed, my pussy was still lightly throbbing, completely beat up from last nights activities.

The house was quiet, but still my head throbbed.

My mind was fuzzy but I remembered pieces, remembered that I had made out with Eris, come home late, Azriel had put his hands on me- we had fucked. I groaned again, pressing my palms into my aching eyes.

Obviously, Azriel was out of fucking line— out of control. I hadn't thought our situation could get any worse, and now, impossibly worse.

Could I blame him for his actions when nobody taught him how to love someone? When I knew that his need for control had rooted from the childhood horrors he had once faced? Could I blame him for his actions when I knew his brain had developed around abuse and violence? No, I couldn't blame him.

Maybe I was in denial, but underneath it all? Still my Az.

Waiting on the counter for me was a latte and a breakfast sandwich from my favorite cafe, next to it a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it, my chest swelling at the bouquet he had drawn along with a few bees flying around it, the drawing was messy a few ink splatters where he had pressed the pen down too hard, but still beautifully done like anything he touched with his artistic ability. A small message scribbled at the bottom.

hope its still warm when you get up im sorry if you don't completely fucking hate me stop at the shop before your shift, i love you, azriel

Still my Az.

I sighed, frustration beginning to bubble within me. Always lax, always acting like everything was just fine. I was tired of it, I was tired of always just pretending like everything was okay when that dark cloud of depression had reared its ugly head weeks ago.

It was an effort to shower, to get dressed, I didnt have the will to put any makeup on besides a little mascara afterwards. Every movement felt heavy and painful and full of more effort than it should, but it wasnt only my physical condition from drinking an ungodly amount and Azriels- outburst. It was also my emotional state- my brain so utterly exhausted from all of the trauma I had been enduring in the past weeks. I couldn't even bare to look in the mirror for more than a few moments either, the fingerprint shaped bruises dusted along my jawline highlighted by the brightly lit bathroom.

It was even more of an effort to get myself out of the car when I reached the shop. Anxiety gnawed at my gut, would they ask? Would they even notice? It didnt matter, I needed answers. I needed answers to questions I hadn't even formed yet. The bells chimed as they usually did and the stares I received upon my entrance didnt do anything to sooth my anxious gut. The lack of clientele in the waiting room definitely helped, a little.

"Hey," I said wearily to Kat and Cass, I avoided eye contact at all cost, and found my usual place leaning against the counter. Kat was in her chair behind it, Cassian perched on a stool nearby.

"Hey boo," Kat says quietly, I could feel Cass' boring into me. Don't bring it up. I could tell by his lack of greeting he was about to.

"Y/n, please don't tell me Az did that," Cassians voice is soft but I could hear the concern laced in his tone.

"Is he here?" I ignored his question completely, I didnt want to get into it. Not now.

"Hes doing a tattoo, Cassians room is empty tho— if you wanted to wait for him, its been a couple hours, hes almost done," Kat didnt pry, she knew better, and Cass didnt protest when she offered his room up without asking first.

"Thanks," its slightly breathless, with an effort not to burst out in tears in front of them. I couldn't handle the worried stares— the pity. The door clicked shut behind me and I dropped my bag on Cassians piercing bed and slid into his chair. Alone, now, I let the tears of frustration flow freely. They were silent, but hot and streaming, I wiped my eyes with my sleeves, letting out an exasperated sigh.

I didnt know how long it had been when I heard his voice outside, I held my breath to listen. "She's here?" surprise, hopeful surprise.

"Az— Im not past putting you on the floor if you put your hands—"

"Im not," Azriel cut him off with annoyance. I straightened, realizing he was about to be in here.

I sniffled, wiping my eyes again quickly to try and hide the evidence of my tears before Az stepped in, in all his brooding glory. His face was grave, eyes impossibly more tortured than usual, hair messy and disheveled, chains stacked, poking out from under his shirt, he was in the same clothes that he had been in last night and it didnt look like he'd gotten an ounce of sleep.

"Leave it open," I commanded softly, I saw Cassian quickly look away and back toward Kat as Az began to shut the door. Hurt flashed in Azriels eyes, but he stopped, leaving the door where it was. It wasnt wide open, but open enough.

"You don't trust me," it wasnt a question, but a statement, and he was right, to an extent at least. I didnt think Az would hurt me— after last night... I wouldn't feel bad for asking him to leave the door open.

"Youre fucked up," I muttered when our eyes met, his pupils always a tell tale, he swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion. "Probably should have this conversation another time."

"I was always fucked up Bee, every fucking moment I was fucked up— it doesn't matter," he took a step toward me, I held my breath again, my eyes tracing every movement he made. "Im sorry." Another step, I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as I watched him drop to his knees in front of me.

"Sorry doesn't fix everything," my voice broke, he winced, his eyes boring into mine, showing me a vulnerable side Id never seen before.

"I know that," he breathed, and I almost broke all over again seeing the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Im so fucked in the head Bee nothing I did last night was okay- fuck- it was- Im sick Im sorry," he rambled, he slid his hands into his hair, his fists curling into it, his elbows on either side of his head.

"Its not okay none of it— the fucking bottle girls, the lying, last night especially... I- you asked me last night why I kept Vegas from you and I have nothing- I have no good fucking answer or excuse that makes it okay but I swear I was gonna ask you to come with me, like fuck y/n I wish you could see I wish you could understand—" rambling again, I let him, my tears flowing again, words failing me. "I would let Rhys fucking sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this fucking city without you," his cheeks were flushed, tears running down them, I hadn't seen this before... As well as I knew him he never showed this much raw emotion, besides anger. "I know Im a fucking addict and a fucking alchy, but Im trying to be better, I went to AA, Im trying to quit drinking, but Im fucked Bee- Im so fucked up from all the shit Ive never faced and Im so fucking sorry I put that on you lastnight."

AA, he had done that for me, my heart ached for him. To hear him say those things about himself, in front of his friends, my heart ached knowing how hard all of this must be, but for me, he was doing it for me.

"If you never forgive me I deserve that, I honestly do Im a piece of shit— a fucking stain on your very existence you deserve so much fucking more than someone like me," I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to stop saying all of those horrible things, as angry as I was at him.

"Im so fucking sorry," he breathed again, his voice breaking, with a sob. Az, my Az, the one who hid behind that cold stare and never let anyone in, the one who never let that hard exterior crack... Was on his knees for me... Every word, Kat and Cass could hear every single word, they could hear him cry, hear his confessions his countless apologies and he didnt care. He didnt care that they knew, he only needed me. He needed me like air to breathe.

And I felt it, I felt it with every ounce of me because I needed him just as much.

So I didnt hesitate when I reached for him, when I pulled his hands from his hair, and pulled him to me. His body went limp, his knelt form hunching over as he let his head fall into my stomach.

"It's okay Az, breathe," my voice was soft as I stroked his hair, holding him close to me while he cried.

I knew it wasnt okay, none of it was, but he needed me and I needed him, and the rest I would figure out later.

a/n: wow they are toxic and codependent hahaahahaha NOT FULLY PROOF READ EXCUSE MISTAKES

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#azriel smut #acotar #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fic #acotar fic #acotar smut #azriel fluff #azriel fan fiction #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel

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dotster001 · 9 months

Text

For Tuna; Duel End

You can vote for the next ending here

Chapters One Two Three Choose a different ending

“I've had it! They're all worthless!” Grim shouted as he stormed into Ramshackle.

You looked up warily from the book you were reading on the sofa.

“Who's worthless, Grim?”

“They are!” He screeched, throwing some folders on the ground. You sighed at the mess you would no doubt have to clean up.

“Well, why are they worthless?” You moved to start cleaning up the folders, and he hissed at you. You retracted your hand.

He stared for a moment, before looking off into the distance.

“I, uh, have to do a partner project, for extra credit. And I'd narrowed it down to who I thought I should pick, but all of them are stupid head poopy butts.”

“That's rough, Grimmy,” you sighed, noticing one of the folders had a familiar name. You raised a brow. “How is Silver a stupid head poopy butt?”

Grim scowled.

“He just is. Don't ask too many questions!” he sighed sadly. “I don't know what to do,Y/N, everyone I thought was perfect for this project is awful. I feel like I'm starting over!”

“Well, can I be your partner?”

“That would defeat the entire purpose,” he pouted.

Ah, probably an assignment that was meant to build his independence from you.

“Deuce always needs extra-”

“Blech!”

Not Deuce then. Got it.

“Well, what if you make a list of all the possible people who aren't, what was it?”

“Stupid head poopy butts.”

“Right. Then you can pick one randomly. If that one turns out to be a…well you know, you can pick a different one. And then if no one is good, please just go to Deuce. For the love of God, your grades reflect on me as well!”

“Go to Deuce?” He spat. “You have no idea what you ask of me, human! But still….your idea of picking randomly is not bad! Perhaps I have been putting too much thought into something that requires no thought at all!”

You highly doubted that.

But he seemed happy again, putting together a list of seemingly unrelated names. You noted he wrote down your lab partner Alano’s name, before snickering and crossing it out.

Once he had all the names written down, he pulled a name out of a hat.

“Sebek?” You asked. “He's smart. He has a lot of life experience too. I bet he'd be a great fit.”

“Yeah, and his dad's a dentist,” Grim said with a worrying smile.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound excited for him, despite your confusion. “If you want, I can walk you over there. I need to give him back the notes I borrowed, anyway.”

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Grim frowned.

“Okay, I can ask Mal Mal to bring the notes then-”

“I've changed my mind. Come with me.”

….

When Sebek wasn't in class, he was in the Diasomnia courtyard, dueling the training dummy. It was worse for wear; chunks of it were missing, and the parts still together had deep scars.

Never had he felt such painful turmoil in his life. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw you on someone's arm, be it Malleus, Lilia, Silver, Leona, or any of the numerous people Grim had chosen, then fired, within the past week.

Fired. They wouldn't be with you. But still.

He was snapped out of his heated fighting with the clang of metal against his sword. He blinked back to awareness, and processed Silver standing before him, sword in hand, body in an offensive position.

“You need to snap out of it,” Silver said. Sebek snarled, and swung at Silver, and was deflected easily.

“Do you think you're good for anyone right now?” Silver asked, and Sebek swung again, blind rage building up in him.

What the hell did Silver know about him? Who did he think he is?

“Father and Lord Malleus are both worried about you. Is that any way for a knight to act?”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH, HUMAN!”

Swords clanged against each other, one knight at peace, the other bursting with rage.

“If there's something you want, go get it!”

“You don't know anything about me!”

“I know the face you made when Grim told you he chose me, and the relief in your eyes when he changed his mind.”

“SHUT UP!”

Clang. Clang. Silver landed a hit with the flat of his blade, making Sebek fall back. His anger, if even possible, rose to new levels. He ran at Silver, sword swinging, only for Silver to side step and make Sebek trip.

“Y/N is a wonderful creature. You would be good together!”

“Ah!”

Clang.

“They bring out a gentler side to you that makes you a well rounded knight.”

Clang.

“But you have to admit what you want, Sebek!”

Clang. Clang. Clang.

“What do you want!”

“I want Y/N!” Sebek shouted, finally disarming Silver, and knocking his feet out from under him.

He breathed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow as he stared down at his defeated senior. Silver, as always, was smiling peacefully. A little too peacefully. He pointed over Sebek 's shoulder, and he turned to look. He felt immediate horror as he saw you standing with your cat creature.

You shyly waved at him, and Sebek felt his face grow bright red.

“I, uh, came to give you back your notes,” you said with a bashful smile.

“Oh.”

“And Grim wanted to ask you if-”

“It can wait, henchhuman! You two obviously have some things to talk about. Come Silver!” Grim turned on his heel to go, then turned back to Silver with a horrific glare.

“I said, let's go. You've clearly lost.”

Silver laughed happily.

“I'm not sure I did lose, Grim.” He stood up, gently clapped Sebek 's shoulder, and leaned in to whisper “good luck.” He hummed happily as he followed Grim into the Diasomnia castle.

Sebek stared pointedly at the ground, neither of you ready to break the silence.

After a bit, “You want me, huh?” Followed by a soft giggle.

“Who wouldn't want you? You're an excellent human,” he muttered.

“You're very sweet, Sebek.”

He looked up in shock, as you smiled at him. You weren't…rejecting his advances? And Grim wasn't stopping him? Had the world come to an end, and this was just a blissful dream in his last moments? No, Malleus would be in the dream too.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as his ringtone played the Valley of Thorns national anthem. He apologized quickly and picked up, expecting Master Lilia or his royal highness.

Instead he was greeted by the voice of your cat.

“I'm giving you a chance, crocodile boy. You know what that means right?”

Sebek grunted in affirmative, turning away so you wouldn't see his face.

“There had better be three cases of luxury tuna on Ramshackle’s doorstep tomorrow morning, or you can kiss Y/N goodbye.”

He almost completely derailed himself by imagining kissing you, in any capacity.

“Understood,” he grunted. There would be no tuna. He didn't need Grim's manipulations to hold your love. But he didn't want to deal with the argument, not when he was seconds away from getting the one he longed for.

“Good.” Grim hung up, and Sebek turned back to you.

“Malleus was just…it doesn't matter,” he ran up to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in your shoulder. He held back the slight tremble his body wanted to give at finally having you in his arms. You wiggled a little bit, and he tightened the hold, not ready to let you out of his grasp yet. He was so unbelievably happy.

“Sebek, you're all sweaty!” You whined.

He pouted, taking a step back and placing a hand on your head.

“I am a knight, human. I train day and night to protect the ones I love. You're going to have to get used to the sweat of hard work!” He proclaimed proudly, before grinning. “After all, part of why I'll be training is so that I can be worthy of you.”

You gave a mock sigh, then opened your arms to him. He didn't hesitate to embrace you once again, tightly holding onto you, and the memory of this day, both of which he intended to hold onto forever.

The End

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lonefloric · 2 months

Text

To warm the soul ✿

An installment of the intertwined souls mini series

Sanemi x female!reader

sanemi was used to feeling icy cold, it was a normal feeling ever since he was a child. Now he has to deal with being scorching hot after saving a mere village girl.

There's still 10 hours on the poll but Mr. Nemi is winning and I just had to finalize this before posting it so I'll post the second most popular vote next. This is also the first time I've written only sanemi by himself so be easy on me 😭🙏

Sanemi was used to being deathly cold since he was a child. It started one morning after he woke up, he went from being cozy and warm to ice cold and freezing.

Fearing he might be sick he went to tell his mother, who only smiled and patted his head. "My dear, that is your soulmate connection. The closer you are to them the warmer you will feel, but the farther you go the colder you will be."

The comfort didn't last long before it turned into a nuisance. As he aged he cared less and less about finding his soulmate, more focused on eradicating demons. Winter quickly began his least favorite time of year, the cold of the snow and the cold of his body hindered him slightly which pissed him off to no end.

Sanemi's feet pounded on the snow as he ran through the thick forest. The demon he had been chasing somehow kept evading him everytime he got close. The snow flurries caused by the wind and the thick layers of snow building up did not help the situation at all, instead angering him even more.

A scream in the distance caught his attention. God dammit. He turned in the direction of the scream and pushed himself to run faster, the possibility of the demon attacking a civilian fueled his rage as he tightened his grip on his sword. Breaking through the tree line he now was in a large clearing.

A few feet ahead of him the demon he had been tracking had a young woman pinned in the snow. You tried kicking and shoving the demon off of you but the immense strength of it you were able to move at all. Sanemi readied his blade in his hand and lunged. The demon above you was flung away by the sheer strength of the blow. You hadn't even realized someone else was there.

Sanemi glared at the body of the demon as it disintegrated, it's hands wildly waving at where it's head once was. Once the body was entirely gone he turned his gaze to you, who he now was looming over. You still laid in the snow shocked and looking at the man. He was beautiful in a unique way, you though. You had never seen someone with so many scars.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" his low voice broke you out of your thoughts. "Why are you in a forest in the middle of a snow storm?"

you glared back at him. "Why are you in a forest in the middle of a snow storm?"

"I have a reason to be."

"So do I!"

"Playing in the snow like a child is not a reason." you gasped taking a handful of snow and throwing it at him.

"I am not a child! And I'm not playing in the snow!" you both glared at each other for a few moments before he sighed and his shoulders dropped.

"Give me your hand."

"What?" he glared at you with a I'm not repeating myself look.

"I know you can feel it too," he held out his hand, "now give me your hand." now that you thought about it, you did feel boiling hot. Neither of you had felt it in the heat of the moment but now that it was all done, your skin felt like it was boiling off, the snow actually felt nice.

"And if I don't want to?" you crossed your arms.

"Then I'll leave you here."

"No you won't." his eyes narrowed, turning on his heel he began to walk away.

"Wha- wait-! Don't leave me here!" you sprung up from the snow attempting to chase after him but your foot got lodged in the snow tripping you. Arms looped your wait effectively catching you, but now you were chest to chest with Sanemi. Your face warmed at the proximity.

"You live in the village near by, don't you?" you shyly nodded at his question. "Then let's go. I'll take you home."

"Will you tell me your name?" you asked.

"Only if you earn it, so be good."

#intertwined souls mini series #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x you #kimetsu no yaiba x y/n #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you #sanemi x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi shinaguzawa x reader

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vintagestarlight · 10 months

Text

Massage

Summary: You give Price a massage after he gets back from a particularly hard deployment.

Pairing: John Price x fiancée!reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: mentions of injury(nothing too graphic), light sexual mentions, John Price(because let's be honest this man is a warning okay), fluff, 18+ MDNI

A/N: So Price won by a landslide in the poll😂 here's one of the fics I had planned so I hope yall enjoy! I did right this pretty drunk so apologies if it isn't great

Also, I didn't expect so many people to vote so thank you all so much!😭🫶🏼 Requets are also open!! Feel free to send in whatever you want just make sure it follows my blog rules! I've also got a few more fics in my drafts as well :)

***beware of typos(I tried my best to catch them all)

John turned the ignition off and his truck came to a stop. He looked at the house the two of you shared and smiled as he took in the warm glow coming from the window. Before you came into his life the house was cold and dark; he preferred coming home to this rather than the dark windows he used to. John opened the door and stepped out, wincing as he irritated the bruised muscles. This last deployment was harder than most; although everyone made it back alive, and for that he was thankful, going hand-to-hand with a mercenary ended with the mercenary dead but John fell from a metal walkway grate to the ground below. It resulted in a number of bruises, scratches, and a sprained shoulder.

John lifted his duffle bag out of the back seat and thought about how you would fret over the bruises that blemished his skin. You always checked him when he came home to see if he gained any new scars or broken body parts and he found it endearing. He walked slowly toward the door, his sore body preventing him from going faster. He dug in his pocket for his key and slipped it into the lock before stepping inside. “Love I’m home,” He called out, setting his duffle bag down by the door with a sigh of relief to have the weight off of his injured shoulder; he had a brace that kept him from moving his shoulder but it did nothing for the annoying pain of putting weight on it.

“Back here!” He heard your voice coming from the shared bedroom so he toed off his boots and walked down the hallway. He saw soft light coming from the bathroom and when he walked in he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. You were in the bathtub with your hair loosely pulled back and sipping on a glass of wine, candles casting a warm illuminating glow. It wasn't anything overly sexual but it still made his face flush; here he was nearing forty and you made him feel like a school boy. “Hey love,” he said, taking in the sight of you before bending down and giving you a kiss. “I’m so glad you’re home,” You said, a heavy weight finally lifting off your chest at seeing your fiancée back in one piece. The black brace over his beige shirt was not lost on you but you didn’t say anything as you decided it was not as bad as it could be. “How’s the bath?” John asked. “You could always join me and find out,” You said, taking a sip of the red wine, looking at him over the rim of the glass. “Now how could I say no to that?” He smirked.

He took off the brace that was nothing but uncomfortable before undoing his belt and stripping off his pants. He slipped off his shirt, wincing as his shoulder twinged, and heard you gasp. “John!” You did your once over to ensure he hadn’t come home severely injured when your eyes landed on the bruises that colored his torso. “What the hell happened?” You asked, wincing when you thought about what could’ve caused such bruises. “If I told you that love, you’d be even more frantic,” He chuckled. “Don’t laugh John!” You chastised. John slipped in behind you after stripping completely, groaning at the warm water, and let you rest against him. “I’m sorry love but don’t freak out too much,” He replied. “They really do look worse than they are,” He added, planting a kiss on your head. He felt you relax more, as if you were afraid of hurting him, and he sighed. The weight of you pressed against him was actually comforting and he wrapped his arms around you. “At least you came home to me alive,” You said. “Just like I promised,” John replied, a long sigh leaving his body.

The two of you just sat there for a little while, your thumb absentmindedly grazing John’s arm; grateful to have your fiancée back. You felt him rest his head on your shoulder and his weary body sagged as he relaxed. You shifted and accidentally pressed your weight on one of John’s bruises and he grunted. “I’m sorry babe!” You said, turning around to sit on his lap carefully trying to avoid the purple-ish tender spots. “Don’t worry I’m tougher than I look,” He joked, running his hands along your sides. “You know,” You started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think I know of a way to make you feel better,” You said in a slow voice. “Oh yeah? I think I’m liking where this is going,” John replied, planting a kiss on your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. ‘Hmm… I like the way you think but I was actually thinking about a massage,” You said. “Help those aching muscles,” You offered and smiled as he smirked. “Now that’s a good way to welcome a man home,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Why don’t you go lay on the bed and I’ll dry off and get the oil,” You suggested and stepped out of the tub.

You felt John’s hungry eyes on you and you grinned; John always made you feel desirable even on your worst day. You heard the water splash as John stepped out after pulling the plug, dripping water on the floor. You wrapped yourself in a towel and felt him swat your ass, eliciting a squeal out of you as he laughed. “Don’t take too long,” He said. John also grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself, being mindful of his injuries, and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. You emerged from the bathroom with a bottle of baby oil and saw John lounging on the bed, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched your towel clad body. “See something you like?” You teased, before dropping the towel leaving you stark naked and John groaned. “I think you should stay like this all the time,” He said, a bit disappointed when you pulled on a bra and panty set. “I suggest you settle down; you’re not exactly in peak condition for sex,” You chuckled. “Come on turn over,” You said, and waited until he was laying on his stomach, arms relaxed.

You got on top of him and straddled his hips, taking notice of the scratches on his back. There were several silver lines across his body from his several years of military service. You had counted every scar on his body countless times so you could always know when he got new ones. But these scratches were new; red and fresh in contrast to the silver healed scars. You squirted a quarter sized amount of baby oil on your hands, rubbed them together, and pressed your hands firmly on John’s back. Using light pressure you began to knead his shoulders, mindful not to press too hard on his injured one, and firmly moved down to his lower back. “Jesus love,” John groaned. John felt himself further relax as you helped ease his aching muscles. You used your thumbs to press into his lower back and rub in small circles before continuing those small circles all the way up his back to his neck.

You loved feeling his skin underneath your hands; the way his muscles rippled when you touched him and it made you feel good that you were able to give him this attention. You heard grunts and moans as you continued to work on his back and shoulders, slowly massaging away the tension that rested in his muscles. You felt your tough military husband become putty under your hands and you couldn't help but grin. “You know I was thinking,” you said, feeling him tense as you needed a particularly large knot at the base of his neck. “What's that love?” He grunted, his voice slurring slightly as your hands slowly lulled him closer to sleep. “I know we had plans to go to that new French place for dinner but maybe we could stay in tomorrow?” You suggested to him. “Maybe just stay in bed and order takeout,” you continued, applying a little more oil onto your hands and rubbing your hands down his arms as he lazily nodded his head. “Would you like that?” You asked. When you didn’t get a response you looked down at his languid form and realized his breathing had become deeper and he started to snore a little. You smiled and slowly got off his back, careful not to wake him, and pulled the covers over him. “Good night John,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek and turning off the lamp before climbing in bed next to him. You soon fell asleep and slept better than you had in months.

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thebestofoneshots · 5 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.8 K Warnings: ANGST! Prompt: Meanwhile, on the other side of the line... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 45: Hold the Line

Love isn’t always on time

Tuesday, December 24th

Christmas at the Potters was always a blast. Sirius had learned that when he turned 12 and got invited to their house to celebrate Christmas after he got a dreadful howler about being a disgrace for the Noble House of Black and getting detention for the prank they had done to the Slytherins.

James had overheard Sirius cry at night over the fact that he’d have to spend Christmas alone in the school and decided he had to do something about it. He wrote a letter to his Mum and Sirius got officially invited to their home for the break. Now, the Potters sent the invitation to Sirius and Sirius only, and he got on the train as if he were going home without telling anyone about it. He got another howler when Walburga found out, but it had been worth it.

He hadn’t been allowed to the Potters for Christmas next year, and he made sure to make a show out of it, wearing muggle clothes to the family dinner and acting so irreverent that Orion locked him up in his room, after giving him a scold, slashing him with diffindo, and making him write “I will behave,” over and over again with a black quill. It didn’t work, Sirius made sure to behave even worse on the New Year’s event and he got officially banned from December celebrations by Walburga.

Next year, he was back at the Potters and happier than ever before. The scars he’d gotten (already long gone) had been worth it. Since then, he’d spent Christmas with them, and every year had been better than the last. Effie was always nice to him, and even with how much she was like James, she was still motherly, especially in comparison to Walburga.

And she had treated Sirius like her own boy since they met. In fact, there was never a difference in the way neither Monty nor Effie treated the two boys, they were their kids, and they treated them as such. Sirius appreciated it deeply, he’d found love, care, and appreciation there and he considered Effie more his mom than Walburga ever was. BIood be damned, family isn’t about what’s running through your veins but about the way you care and treat each other, and if anyone was family to him, it was his brother James, and his parents Effie and Monty.

This year had been no different, from the moment they arrived at the house, the smell of Christmas filled the air. Effie had prepared cookie dough for their yearly making of gingerbread houses. It was a small competition –Effie loved competitions– but they all had to build elaborate creations (with a magical twist) and then they’d set them all on the counter and have the house elves judge and pick the best. Whoever won the contest got an extra gift on Christmas.

Sirius had won once, but Monty was always adding clever new magical things onto the houses, like last year when he made a snow globe house, with magical snow –actually sugar– that would swirl around in the air sending positive Christmas words like “Joy” and “Mirth” and even “Happy Hannukah!”, which according to him, was a muggle tradition from a different religion than the one Christmas had spawned from.

This year though, Effie’s recreation of the Big Ben, alongside the magic stars she had made float all around it had gotten the best of both Mellie and Picksie, the Potter’s house elves. And they had unanimously voted her the winner. She had been really pleased about the results, so pleased she had made a little victory dance, showing off her creation and making it the centre of the table.

Sirius saw the adoring look Monty had given her as she danced around, boasting her triumph, and he thought he’d never met a couple more loving than the two of them, but he wanted to match it, he wanted to make you feel the same way Monty made Effie felt all the time, but then he remembered Remus, and felt a pang on his chest, since he too wished he could make him as happy, which was obviously a contradicting thought to the first one.

“Darling, are you all right?” Effie asked when he noticed his frown. Sirius had relatively subtle expressions when he wanted to hide his feelings, something he had learned to do at home, the Stony Black look, but Effie knew that look well enough, and she instantly knew something was up with her boy.

Sirius turned to her with a short “Hm?” as he got driven away from his own thoughts. “Yeah, I was just thinking if she’ll like the gift I made her.”

Effie smiled softly at that, she’d been one of the people to encourage him to draw something for you, especially since she knew you’d been one of the first people he’d shown his art to. James had been very offended when he found out Remus had seen his art before he had and complained to his mother about it while they were making the gingerbread houses, which is how she’d found out.

“I know I’d love it if Monty made me a drawing, and he’s terrible at it, so I’m certain she will,” she reassured him, “If you want we can go out later and you can get her something else, though.”

Sirius shook his head, he didn’t want them to spend even more money on him than they already had, “No, don’t worry about it, I’m probably just self-conscious.”

Effie smiled, there was something heartwarming at seeing Sirius like this, he had never been nervous about a girl, in fact, she wasn’t sure he’d even bothered to get a gift for one before, he looked like a love-sick puppy, it reminded him an awful lot of James, except you liked him back, unlike that Evans girl. Talking about that Evans girl. “So, James is dating Lily now?”

“He somehow convinced her to go on a date,” Sirius said with a shrug, “they went to the Slug Party together.”

“Really?” Effie asked with raised eyebrows.

Sirius nodded in return, “But I cannot give you any more details.”

“It’s all right,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “I can pry them off of him later.” She then turned back to Sirius, “You’d think she’d come if we invited her over for dinner with everyone or something? Maybe on New Year’s?”

Effie knew Lily, she had seen pictures of her and she had crossed a few words with her on those occasions she visited the school for a quidditch match. She thought she was a nice enough girl, but she had never had an actual conversation with her and she certainly wanted to do it now. Although, with how much James talked about her, she felt like she knew a good deal and she considered her a delightful young lady, except for the fact that she kept rejecting James.

“I’m not sure, she might if Vix comes,” Sirius responded with a shrug, “they’re really good friends.”

Effie smiled in a sort of devilish way, the same smile Prongs had when he had a good idea for a prank, and gave a short pat in the head to Sirius (which she had gotten a habit of doing back when he was much shorter than her) and walked towards the kitchen.

Sirius decided to go for a broom ride to clear his mind, James and Peter tagged along with him and they ended up racing around the house at insanely fast speeds, fast enough for Sirius’ hair tie to loosen up and leave his hair flowing wildly behind him, and somehow also fast enough to have his mind be cleared of those thoughts he kept having of both you and Remus. Peter left early since his parents called for him, while the other boys decided to play a game of Magic Chess back in the living room.

By dinner, both of them had already eaten half of the gingerbread houses they had made, and some other fancy treats Monty liked to cook for the smaller Christmas Eve dinner they always had. Sirius thought it was fantastic since they almost had two parties instead of one. The first time he stayed at the Potter’s he had been so thrilled that he had accidentally blown up some of the decorations. Effie taught him an advanced version of reparo, and the two of them fixed the place together after that.

This time, Monty had asked for their help with the cooking, since Effie had gone out with the elves to buy more stuff for tomorrow’s dinner. It would be rather small, very few people had been invited due to the war and the fact that not many wizards knew which side the other was on, but Effie was set on having the place be as nice as ever.

Monty loved cooking, he had at some point mentioned that it was like making potions and that there was something oddly satisfying with how a bit of heat and a few spices could make even the most boring of dishes get filled with flavour, and he was set on teaching James, and by extension Sirius, how to cook.

“Perhaps you could make a cake for Lily,” he said as he passed James the measured flour for him to add, “your mother loved it when I sent her homemade cupcakes.”

“You did that?” Sirius asked with raised eyebrows.

“Mhm,” Monty nodded, “beat that a bit faster,” –he said politely as he pointed at the egg whites Sirius had been tasked with fluffing up– “She said she liked men with cooking skills and I asked my mum to help me with it, she sent me a bunch of cooking books and here we are now. James, have you added the cinnamon?”

“Eh…” James thought about it for a second and looked around the counter. The cinnamon was pretty far from where he stood, “don’t think so,” he admitted.

“That’s all right, I’ll add it for you,” he said and waved his wand, in an instant the cinnamon container was lifted up and after shaking softly three times and after dropping some cinnamon over James’ dry ingredient mix, it went back to its place on the table. Then Fleamont went back to cutting the apples into small pieces. “When you’re done with that James, please add some butter to the pans.”

“Okay,” James said with a nod and got busy with his task. The three of them were surprisingly efficient in the kitchen. They hadn’t been like that the first time around, but Monty decided they had to know how to –at least– make soup if they were ever going to live alone one day and had them take an intensive course a couple of summers ago. Both James and Sirius had gotten much better grades at potions after that, especially because Monty, being such an expert potioneer, had taught them to cook with potion-making techniques.

He hadn’t done it intentionally, but he was pretty satisfied with the result, especially when Effie praised him for being so clever and entertaining the kids with cooking while also teaching them something. He took the credit for being slick with a smile.

By the time they were done with the cake preparations, the food was ready to pull out of the oven. Monty and Sirius took the stuff out and passed it to James who took it to the table that Effie and Picksie were setting up while they focused on revising the temperature and placing the cakes in the oven. They had made three cakes, a chocolate cake that was James’ favourite, a carrot cake that Monty loved and an apple crumble one that both Sirius and Effie were mad about.

Effie had gotten some extra treats for the boys, and she had even gotten some Shepherd's Pie from a muggle place called “The Wingmore” that Monty loved. They had a delicious family dinner together, with cookies, pie and baked potatoes. They caught up with each other, and both Monty and Effie teased James about Lily mercilessly. Then Monty mentioned something about having “The Talk” with James and Sirius had to cough it in order to hide a cackle.

Prongs had kicked him under the table while Effie had appeared a glass of water for him so he could take a drink, and Sirius had thanked her with the soft charming smile of his that made all the girls swoon, James glared at him for it, and the other boy winked at him brazenly. If it went something like the talk Monty had given him 2 years ago when he started dating around, James might not survive it.

Sirius walked back to James’ room and decided to wait there for him to tease him once his talk with Monty was over, but Sirius was pretty tired from a day filled with fun, and he fell asleep pretty much the second he hit James’ bed.

He woke up a few minutes later when he felt a heavy leg over his own. He opened his eyes confused, thinking it was warm, but also that it smelled weird. Or perhaps not weird, just… not the way it should smell. It smelled of cedar, firewood, mint and summer breeze, not like books, parchment, chocolate and you. He blinked his eyes open and spotted James’ arm draped over his chest and his leg on top of both of his own. He was cuddling Sirius like he cuddled his pillows.

“Prongs,” he said softly, but the boy just snuggled deeper into him. “Prongs!” he repeated. “Prongs, what the fuck!”

James frowned and looked at Sirius as if he had been wronged, “What do you want?”

“Why are you cuddling me?”

“You’re in my bed,” the boy responded with a shrug.

“So what? Don’t you know about personal space?”

Bold fucking words for Sirius Black, James thought.

“Just shut up, I’m tired.”

“No, get off me!” Sirius said as he tried to pry James’ legs off of him, but James was heavier, and at this point, he was determined to piss Sirius off after being so wrongly accused.

“Pads!” James complained. “Just let me sleep, mate.”

“Not until you get off.”

“You never tell Remus to get off,” James huffed and tightened his grip.

What?

You never tell Remus to get off.

YOU NEVER TELL REMUS TO GET OFF!

Sirius opened his eyes wide as he looked at the ceiling, completely in shock as he let the words sink in. He looked to the side, trying to hide the panic, “That’s different,” he managed to muster.

“How is it different? I’m your best mate anyway, if you’re giving hugging concessions around, it should be to me.”

How is it different? Yes Sirius, HOW IS IT FUCKING DIFFERENT?!? He wondered to himself. “It’s because of the smell of the pack?”

“Is it? Really?” James asked, he was annoyed, and sleepy, and not quite thinking what he said, let alone how much it was affecting Sirius.

“Of course,” Sirius said defensively and pushed James off of him, turning his back to the boy as James rolled his eyes and did the same.

Prongs knew Sirius would be fine in the morning, but it would be a lie if he said he hadn’t been a little offended by the way he got pushed off, he had seen how close he was to Remus lately, and it wasn’t that he was jealous, but since when was Sirius closer to Moony than to him? Vixen he understood, he was head over heels for you, but Remus?!?

Since when was Pads so close to him?

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bed, Sirius had started to PANIC. There was something so raw about the words half-asleep James had said. Is it really about the smell of the pack? Was he using you as an excuse to cuddle Remus? Was he using his girlfriend… to cuddle his crush?

Perhaps he was a Black after all, it ran in his bIood, all wicked and malicious, cunning and devious. How could he shamelessly cuddle into Remus while you were right next to him? As if he didn’t have a crush on his friend? As if he hadn’t already admitted to himself that Remus was bIoody handsome? With his big broad shoulders and his intoxicating smell of books and chocolate, and a hint of you. With his messy brown hair and his kind smile, it was unfair really, for him to be so pretty and for Sirius to only have realised it now, now that he was happy, now that he had found someone.

When Sirius woke up, there was a pile of gifts on his side of the bed. James had decided to let him sleep in since he had been kind of annoyed at night and he didn’t want to deal with cranky Sirius on Christmas, which is why he was quietly opening his gifts on the other side of the floor.

Sirius leaned over and threw him a look while peeking his head over the bed. When he noticed he smiled. “Look at this” – he pointed at a box of muggle Christmas-themed chocolates– “Lily sent it, they even came with a small note, look,” he said as he passed the note to Sirius.

Sirius eyed him incredulously and took the small card in his hands before turning around on the bed to get himself comfortable, he cleared his throat, “Dear James, I was walking along this Christmas market and they had these chocolates, the adorable elf on the side that looks way too excited to be in a box kind of reminded me off you. Hope you have an amazing Christmas. Love, Lily.”

“You read that? She said ‘Love’.”

“Mhm,” Sirius said with a smirk and turned around again to pick the box from the floor, “Oh god is this the over-excited elf?” he said as he spotted a green-dressed short man on the side, he was wearing a very muggle Christmas outfit and had funny features, although his smile and eye colour did kind of match James’, it was like a bootleg version of him. Sirius couldn’t help but cackle.

“Oi! Don’t make fun of it! She sent it with love.”

“Not laughing at the gift, I’m laughing at the resemblance,” Sirius added while he tried to catch his breath, James had snatched the box from him and carefully placed it next to his leg.

Sirius was still laughing when he saw some light coming from a small hand-held mirror he had placed on his nightstand. It was reflecting a small beam on the ceiling. It was an enchanted mirror he had stolen from his parents back when he still lived with them. He had used it to communicate with James on the longer summers, even if he couldn’t actually talk through it.

Sirius frowned, “You have the sister mirror to someone?”

“Remus,” James said as he stood up and leaned across the bed, “since he was going to be alone this Christmas,” he added. Sirius rolled to the side and then on the bed to reach the same belly-down position James was using and looked inside.

Remus, looking as handsome as ever, was on the other side, shirtless –to Sirius’ dismay– and with his hair slightly messier than usual. Even his smile was so wide it looked like it would burst out of his face.

He waved at the boys and then pointed at a card he had in his hand. It said, “Merry Christmas”.

Sirius looked around and pulled James’ box from the floor, showing him the exact spot where it said “Merry Christmas” as well.

Remus then picked up a small pen and wrote “Thank you for the gifts” on the side of his Christmas letters. Sirius winked in response, he knew Rem would like the book he got him. But he knew he’d especially love the drawing he made for him as well: it was a Wolf, a dog and a fox playing in the forest.

“You made him a drawing too?” James asked with a gasp.

“You’re telling me Mum got a drawing, Vix got a drawing, and Moony got a drawing, but I didn’t?”

“Didn’t have enough time,” Sirius responded with a shrug. Remus, who was trying to read the boys’ lips and kind of got that he was among the few to get a drawing, couldn’t help being filled with joy at the fact that Sirius had done something especially for him.

He then showed the boys all the music you had sent over and spent a while trying to sign something to James that neither he nor Sirius got properly, but he gathered something about you getting him a bunch of books.

“What did she get you?” James asked, turning to Sirius who frowned. He had been so busy looking at his friend’s gifts, that he had forgotten he had also received a few himself.

James placed the mirror at the end of the bed so Remus could see and they all finished unboxing their gifts. Sirius had gotten a CB radio from Remus. There were rather specific instructions on what to do with it, it had even been charmed so that it worked, even in Hogwarts.

“Hello?” he asked as he pressed the button.

“Hey!” Remus replied from the other side, he had a wide smile on his face, thrilled that it actually worked.

“Oh, that’s horrifying,” James said as he looked through Remus in the mirror and Sirius playing with the radio back in his room. “Like dark magic.”

“Just science,” Remus said.

“Didn’t you have to press a button so he can hear?” James asked as he took the radio from Sirius’ hand.

“I can read your lips, you dumbass,” Remus responded, and Sirius started to laugh.

James frowned and covered his mouth with his hands and turned to Sirius “Pretend I said something awful about him.”

“He said you’re a smartass,” Sirius said as he pressed the button, Remus gave James a look, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t–” he started and took back the radio, snatching it from Sirius with a lot more purpose, “I didn’t say that! He made that up.”

“Why would I make that up?” Sirius said innocently.

“To fuck with me.”

Remus started to laugh from the other side, and then pressed the button, “What else did you get?”

Sirius pulled another box while James started to play with the different buttons of the radio, “Read this first,” the longer-haired boy said as he passed the instructions to James who groaned but did as told.

Sirius had gotten a good deal of stuff. It wasn’t weird that he got a bunch of gifts since he stayed at the Potters, his mother used to reject most of the gifts, but he had gotten tons of chocolate from girls every time he stayed over with James. Most of them would end up with Remus’ stash later on. This year he didn’t get as many chocolates, but he still got a good deal of stuff, some from people he didn’t even know.

“I swear every year he gets more stuff,” James said as he shook his head in disbelief. He had been partly to blame since he had gotten him a massive quidditch gear kit for morning practices. Peter had gotten him a magic puzzle that changed every few minutes. Andromeda had sent him some other cool muggle things she’d found, and he was absolutely fascinated by the 8 ball she’d gotten him. It was a ball that you could ask things to and when you turned it around it responded, like a divination device, except with no magic involved. The best part was the ridiculous things it said: “Outlook not so good, try asking your cat”, “Ask again later, I'm napping”, “Signs point to tacos. Always tacos” and his personal favourite, and the main reason Dromeda had gotten it “Are you serious? (No, seriously, are you?)”.

She had also gotten both James, him, Remus and Peter, pet rocks. Now neither of them had a clue what that was, but Dromeda said all the cool kids had one of those with the muggles. The rock came in a box and had a rather detailed manual on how to take care of it, and even a back story claiming that it had been “trained” in Mexico by a pet handler named Pedro.

“You also got a rock?” Remus asked as he pulled one from the side and showed it to the boys through the mirror. Remus’ rock had his eyes slightly further apart than Sirius’. “I named mine Cornelius.”

“Cornelius?” Sirius asked with a frown as he stared at his friend’s rock through the mirror, “Now that you mention it, it does kind of look like a Cornelius.”

“Mine will be Lily,” James said as he took him out of the box. It was a red-ish rock.

“You can’t name your pet Lily!”

“It’s a rock,” James said with a shrug, “I can name it however I want.”

“What’s yours?” he asked as he pointed at Sirius’ rock.

“It’s… Bowie.”

“Hm… love it,” James nodded as he stared at his friend’s rock. The two of them carefully placed them on the side table, as if they were actual, delicate pets and not just, rocks.

They continued opening their gifts, Sirius was absolutely fascinated with yours. He loved the drawing books and pens and markers, the mixtape that you’d gotten him and the watercolours, but he was pretty much obsessed with the penknife. He loved that it had his name on it and he used it to open the rest of his gifts, then he pocketed it and kept it with him the rest of the day.

He was helping Monty peel some potatoes –with his penknife instead of a spell– when James decided to tease him about it.

“You’ve been carrying that around all day,” he said as if it were a throwaway comment while he tried to make a pile of oranges.

“It’s super useful.”

“Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that it was a gift from Vixen?”

Monty eyed Sirius with a knowing smile and went back to his cooking.

“That’s just a bonus,” Sirius responded and placed the finished potato in the bowl. “It’s got my name on it, mate,” he said as he moved the knife to the side. “Also, she mentioned she charmed it, but she said I had to figure out what the charm is.”

“Maybe she just said that to have you think about it for ages, and it’s not actually charmed.”

Sirius stopped moving for a second, looking at nowhere in particular as he considered the possibility before letting a short breath out and shaking his head, “Nah, it’s got some kind of magic, I can feel it.”

James, just to tease his friend, further shrugged with an unconvinced air, “If you say so.”

Sirius just took another potato and started peeling it with a small frown. He was about 80% sure he could feel magic on the knife. But he was surrounded by magic, in an extremely magical household, literally every single person around him could wield magic, so it was possible the knife was just reflecting the energies from his environment.

By dinner time, there were some more people in the house. Andromeda, Ted and their daughter Dora had been invited by the Potters since they knew how much Sirius loved seeing his cousin, but she had to skip the dinner since Dora had gotten a fever from playing all day in the snow. The Weasleys had also been invited, Dumbledore had introduced them to Monty a few years back and they were rather fond of each other, even if Arthur was much younger. He had arrived with Molly and their 3 sons: Bill, Charlie and the newborn Percy.

Bill had followed James around the moment he spotted him, and James had shown him some of his old toys, and they all played a game of Exploding Snap with Sirius. There were other Wizards there too, Alastor Moody, who had a very animated conversation with Arabella Fig, Elphias Dodge and both Seraphina Nightshade and her boyfriend Roan Elmore, whom James had met at the party shortly after you and Remus did.

“That’s Roan, Seraphina’s boyfriend.”

“She’s dating someone?” Sirius asked, amused. Seraphina was beautiful, the entire school knew that, but he had no idea she had been dating someone.

“Yeah, he was at Slughorn’s party,” James said and snapped his fingers and took a pair of identical cards, the cards shuffled themselves back onto the table.

“Who’s Slughorn?” asked Billy as he snapped his fingers, Charlie just behind him, was attempting to do the same as his brother, but not quite managing to make a sound.

“The Potions teacher,” Sirius responded as he placed his wand on top of one of the cards and snapped his fingers as well. The rest of the cards on the table started to explode and then they shuffled themselves back together. “You probably won’t like him.”

“I won’t?” Bill asked, his red eyebrows furrowing just a little bit, Sirius thought he looked cute, and he didn’t like little kids all that much.

“He might,” James said with a shrug.

“He won’t if he’s one of the good ones,” Sirius retorted and then snapped his fingers and took a pair of cards.

“I don’t like him at all then,” Bill said with determination, he definitely wanted to fit in with the cool crowd, that obviously being the older boys: Sirius and James. He didn’t need to do much, both boys already liked Bill, if he were their age, he’d probably be part of their gang.

“Me neither,” Charlie added, “Unless he has a dragon.”

“Charlie, people don’t have dragons,” Bill said in a rather exasperated tone, as if it wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that and then snapped his fingers, taking a pair of cards.

Charlie tried to do the same and snapped his fingers, only for them to make no sound again. “But they could,” he insisted, sighed as if he too was tired of having that same argument with Bill and then walked towards Mrs. Weasley, she was talking to Effie about something in a rather hushed tone while Mr. Weasley struggled to get Percy to stop crying a few feet from them.

Sirius was about to snap his fingers again when he felt a sharp pain in his hand, “ah fuck,” he said as he pulled his hand from the table.

“You all right?” James asked, as he snapped his fingers and took the cards Sirius was going to take.

Sirius was staring at his palm confused, the scar from the scary witchcraft store had hurt almost in the same way it had when the necklace burned it on his hand. It was a lot less visible now, but the pain had been the same.

It wasn’t the first time it happened. It had sometimes bothered him back in the day, but it had never been as sharp as today. And it had kind of stopped since you came to Hogwarts. He assumed it must have been some kind of protean charm, but he had no idea how, and if he could use it at all. All he knew was that it hurt sometimes, and it reminded him of you, which he really didn’t like thinking back when you weren’t around.

“Yeah, I think I bit myself or something,” he lied and turned back to the game, snapping his fingers and taking another pair of cards.

James eyed him suspiciously and then the cards shuffled on the table again, completely stealing his train of thought, especially when Bill snapped his fingers and took the pair of cards he was about to take.

In the end, Bill won the game. He was awfully good for a six-year-old, and both Sirius and James were a bit out of practice.

“There you go,” Sirius said as he passed him 3 sickles.

“Thank you,” Bill said, by then Charlie had already come back and was tugging on his brother’s pants. “Charlie, I won them,” he complained as James paid up.

“If I could play, I’d win too!” Charlie complained, “I want to save for the toy dragon at Whimsy Wonders.”

“Well, technically, he helped Bill, didn’t he?” James asked, eyeing Sirius.

“Oh yeah, moral support,” Sirius agreed. “I feel like we owe him for that as well.”

Charlie’s face glowed looking at them. “No, he wasn’t playing,” Bill said.

“Oh, but he was,” James said and handed Charlie a sickle, Sirius did the same. “You wouldn’t have won without him, right?”

Bill frowned, as if about to say he was perfectly capable of winning without Charlie pestering him about dragons, but there was something on James’ gaze that had him hold it. He sighed, “Of course, Charlie helped…”

Charlie smiled widely and ran towards Mrs. Weasley. “Mom, Mom, Look!” he said. “We beat the older kids!” he repeated. James chuckled as he saw the small boy jump about, and then Monty called everyone towards the table.

The Potter’s party table was long and round, with different panels that rolled inside to have the food and snacks pass around and stay within everyone’s reach. Of course, wizards could just float whatever they needed their way, but both Monty and Effie thought it was annoying to have the salad dressing and bread basket cover the face of the person they were trying to talk to so they designed the table to be able to have a pleasant conversation.

Sirius was sitting in between James and Charlie, who was determined to sit with them even if he was meant to sit with his brother. Sirius didn’t mind it much, Charlie mostly talked about dragons, and for a 4-year-old, he seemed to have encyclopedic knowledge of them. While Bill, who was always listening to him go on and on about dragons, found it annoying, Sirius and James thought it was actually interesting.

He was telling Sirius about the Ukrainian Ironbelly and how he wanted to get a wand with a dragon heartstring core when he turned 11 when Monty stood up and thanked everyone for coming to the party, which prompted Charlie into silence.

Monty’s speech was heartfelt and honest, just like he was all the time, and while he didn’t explicitly say anything related to the war, he did mention that they were living in dark times, and for such reason, it was time to keep those whom you love at an arm’s length, to take care of each other and to check up on them as often as possible. He said that sometimes even the simplest of messages made the difference.

When his speech was done, there was a small toast, and then they got to eat. Sirius dived straight for the potato souffle since he had helped with the preparation and thought the amount of cheese they had added was mouth-watering, he also waited a couple of seconds for the inside panels of the table to spin around so he could reach for some of Monty’s special turkey. He had tried it the first Christmas he spent with the Potters and since then he always waited eagerly for dinner time to be able to eat it again.

He had even asked Monty for the recipe, but he had never gotten around to preparing it himself, although this Christmas Monty had him do some of the garlic mincing and spices blending for him, so he learned all the techniques. Sirius was more than happy to help, he found the kitchen to be a relaxing place (as long as it was the Potter’s kitchen and Monty was the head chef).

Effie was a lot more demanding in the kitchen, and if he had never dared to enter the one in Grimmauld Place, he was sure to come out as a roasted chicken instead of with one. Kreacher had always been awful to him, and the kitchens were his and Walburga’s territory exclusively.

Sirius was about to take another bite of his turkey, Charlie was talking about a Common Welsh Green and how elegant he thought they were when he felt another pang on his hand. Sharper and a lot more concentrated this time around. He dropped his fork and it clanged against the plate. He looked up, worried, out of habit more than anything, only to realise he was at home, and not with Walburga where he might have been awfully reprimanded.

With the Potters it was different, in fact, Monty gave him a short questioning look, clearly asking if he was all right, to which Sirius nodded. Monty went back to his talk and allowed James to check on Sirius instead. Meanwhile, Effie raised her voice just a little, covering up for the loud sound Sirius had caused and Molly laughed loudly at something Alastor said. Sirius looked around with a small smile.

Yeah, this is home, he thought as he pulled his hand towards him and placed his thumb over the already faded scar.

“Mate, that’s the second time today,” James said, looking at Sirius with a frown.

“I don’t know what’s with it either,” he admitted with a shrug.

“You wanna skip dessert? Go sleep?”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Sirius lied, trying to push aside the unsettling feeling gnawing at his mind. It had been months since it last troubled him, and this time it felt worse, not even in the aftermath of Mexico when he discovered how annoying it could be, but back then he assumed it was just the healing process, he didn’t know about Protean charms and, even now, he didn’t know why it was happening, perhaps then he would have reacted faster.

Regardless of the uneasiness, Sirius intended to enjoy the dinner, and he did, in between eating, joking with James and hearing Charlie talk about dragons, he was distracted from the pain so often that by the time he went to sleep, he had almost completely forgotten about the discomfort. That was until he actually fell asleep.

In his dream, Sirius found himself in an eerie scene, surrounded by his family, yours, Evan, Arkalis, and even the Dark Lord. Regulus was speaking to him, then he cast a hex on his brother, and suddenly they were torturing Muggles. That’s when he realised he wasn’t himself; he was seeing things through your eyes as if you had lent them to him.

He saw his cousin Bella and then your friend, Nina who was being tortured with an unforgivable. That’s when you reacted, there was a fire. Not any fire, Fiendfyre. The massive Chimera you created was burning everything in its wake. Chaos ensued, lives were lost, and you fled.

He saw how you ran alongside Nina until you were further enough away, but Lucius showed up out of nowhere. You duelled him, almost won, but Nina was hit by a stunning spell and you lost it, throwing yourself over her and crying, desperate to bring her back, but she wasn’t responding. There was a blinding light and he heard Barty’s voice.

“Sirius!” a voice called from a distance. “SIRIUS!”

He jolted awake, with a confused gaze as if trying to get back to reality, “James?”

“You’ve been muttering Vixen’s name over and over, and you’re sweating,” James said, his hand on Sirius’s forehead. “I think you were having a nightmare.”

Sirius frowned, his pulse fast and his breathing short, still struggling to ground himself. The dream had felt so real as if he really had been you, as if he really had gone through all that stuff, perhaps he had drunk too much of that Dragon Wine after listening to Charlie go on and on about how the process of slowly heating the conserve with dragon breath was “so fascinating”.

It’s not that he didn’t think it was interesting, but no matter what you said, Charlie found a way to connect it with dragons and after a while, it did get dizzying.

“Yeah, it was awful,” Sirius admitted. “Thank Merlin it was just a dream.”

James nodded and threw himself next to Sirius, taking the rock Andromeda had given him and tossing it from hand to hand. Back when they were smaller, James would sleep with Sirius whenever he had a nightmare. It reminded Sirius of Reggie and he always felt a lot more at ease when he wasn’t alone on the bed. He didn’t do it much anymore, Sirius’ nightmares had decreased, and he had also gotten a lot better at hiding when he had some.

“I’ll go take piss,” Sirius said as he stood up. James threw him a side glance and watched his friend walk all the way to the bathroom attentively. He wasn’t sure when had been the last time Sirius had had such a distressing nightmare, and the fact that it had to do with you, must have been even more upsetting.

He understood it much better now that he had Lily, he wanted to protect her more than anything in this world and the thought of something, anything, happening to her was enough to make his bIood run cold. He was scared of things happening to her, and he assumed Sirius must have been just as scared of things happening to you. Especially with how things were now. At least you were a pure-bIood, not as much of a target for deatheaters as Lily was.

In truth, James had sent notes to Lily every day since he got home, not because he missed her so dreadfully that he couldn’t go a day without talking to her –which was also kind of true- but because he was terrified he wouldn’t see her again. There were rumours of death eaters going for muggle-borns now. And James had read about a student from 2nd year disappearing along with her family last month. Nobody knew where Jane Bishop and her parents were.

Sirius walked towards the bathroom as quietly as possible, he didn’t know the time, but he didn’t want to wake up anybody by accident either. He went straight to the sink and tried to wash the sweat off his face, letting some of the water pool in the sink to be able to clean his neck better. When he dug his hand into the water, is when he realised things hadn’t been just a nightmare.

He felt like he had been hit in the stomach and stumbled back a couple of steps until his back crashed against the back wall, then he saw Barty right in front of him, throwing a stunning spell at his face. He didn’t move, but the bathroom dissolved behind him and he appeared to be sitting in the snow, looking up at the Shrieking Shack, completely surrounded by snow. His eyes, although actually opened, slowly closing and opening again.

One moment he was there, and the next, he saw James crouching right in front of him, with a concerned expression.

“It wasn’t a dream,” Sirius managed to mumble.

“What?”

“It wasn’t a dream!” he repeated a little louder, grabbing onto the towel rack to stand back up again, James helped pull him up and he bolted out of the bathroom.

James looked at his friend and waved his wand over the mess, all things slowly going back into place, the faucet closing and the sink emptying as he walked behind Sirius.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I think shit went down at Rosier’s Christmas party,” Sirius muttered as he paced around the room, “And it was because of Vixen.”

“When you say shit went down…”

“I mean Fiendfyre and dеad people,” Sirus said looking up at James with a stony expression. “But that’s… she somehow ended up in the Shack, Barty stunned her just outside-”

“Sirius–” James said in a comforting tone.

“We need to do something, she might get hypothermia if she stays out for too long, she–”

“Sirius!” James called again, a lot more stern now, grabbing onto his friend’s shoulders and shaking him to get his attention. “Are you sure it wasn’t a nightmare?” Sirius swallowed thickly, his eyes watering as he nodded. James took a deep breath, “Okay, I’ll talk to my parents, we can confirm with–”

“No!! Sirius said, snapping out of James. “It was real, and she’s alone, in the snow, pretty much passed out, we have to do something. Maybe I can apparate there or–”

“You’ll splinch.”

“Damn it, James!” Sirius snapped. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“Remus!” James said, looking up at Sirius.

“Remus?” Sirius asked, confused.

“He’s at school, he can take the passage and–” Sirius didn’t even let James finish, he had already run towards the mirror and the radio, flashing the mirror with lumos and shouting at the small microphone.

“Sirius?” Remus asked confused from the other side of the line.

Sirius was quick to fill him in, and Remus had put a coat on in seconds.

“Wait!” James said as Remus pocketed the mirror and walked towards the door. Remus took the mirror out and looked at the two boys. “What if it’s a trap?”

“If Vixen’s in danger, I don’t care if it’s a trap,” Remus said, with the same determination as Sirius when he was about to risk splinching.

“Remus?” Sirius said, doubtful.

“Yeah?” the boy responded through the radio.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“I will,” the boy reassured and pocketed the mirror again.

After that, there was radio silence.

Sirius paced around the room, Monty and Effie had woken up and walked towards them. Effie had a note in her hand and seemed to be hesitating to speak.

“What is it?” Sirius asked.

Effie looked to the side and wet her lips before looking back at her boy. “It’s her mother, Avis” –she hesitated– “She’s dеad.” Effie said as she let out a short breath, “there was dark magic that went out of control, Rosier Manor was badly damaged. No one knows where she is.”

“She’s not there,” Sirius reassured.

Effie frowned and James explained to both of his parents what had happened. Monty went to place a hand on Sirius’ back as they sat on the bed. The boy’s leg kept bouncing, but there was no news, neither from you nor from Remus. All he could see was the dark fabric from Remus’ pocket through the mirror.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Work was insane today, so this one was posted as fast as I could possibly do it, enjoy!