It was supposed to be just a one-night stand with him, Isander.

You had coincidentally met at a bar, and he immediately caught your attention. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably handsome. His build was solid, his posture confident, and the sharp lines of his face made it difficult to look away.

You talked. You drank. You laughed, and then you asked for it.

You had always been curious. You wanted to experience it at least once without attachments, without expectations. And Isander seemed like the perfect option.

But before anything happened, he warned you.

“If you sleep with me, then you had to marry me, only my wife who could use me.” He said.

You didn’t take it seriously. You assumed he was joking, speaking nonsense. Who would marry someone they had just met and spent one night with?

So you agreed without thinking.

As the night continued, the drinks kept coming. Your laughter grew softer, your movements slower. Eventually, the two of you ended up tangled together.

By morning, you were in a deep, heavy sleep.

Meanwhile, Isander was already awake. Dressed up well, he looked completely composed, as if the night before had been nothing more than a scheduled appointment.

He had called an officiant.

When the officiant finally arrived at the penthouse, he froze at the sight before him. Isander was carrying you effortlessly in his arms. You were limp in sleep as he gently placed you onto the sofa.

The officiant stared in horror as Isander adjusted you carefully.

“This is your fiance?” the officiant asked.

“She’s who I’m marrying.” He said casually, as if it were obvious.

“Is she alive?” the officiant asked, nervous now, as you didn’t move at all. He lifted your limp wrist slightly and let it drop back onto the sofa.

When you groaned faintly in your sleep, he startled. “Aye, she’s alive,” he said, sounding surprised himself.

“Touch her again, and I’ll throw you from the balcony.” Isander said in warning after the officiant had touched you.

The officiant swallowed deeply. He knew exactly how high they were, the twenty-ninth floor of a luxury penthouse. He glanced toward the glass balcony doors, the city stretching dizzyingly far below.

“Marriage license?” the officiant asked carefully.

Isander handed it to him. As the officiant read the document, one of his eyebrows slowly rose. Both signatures were already there, yours and his.

“Is this real?” The officiant doubt.

Isander rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask question you don’t want the answer to. Now get on with.”

The officiant hesitated, then gestured toward your sleeping form. “We can skip the formalities if you like,” The officiant gesture to the sleeping you “there’s no need for vows?”

Isander’s intense, deadly stare made the officiant immediately understand. “Say the words.”

The officiant nodded and began reading the vows aloud, his voice slightly unsteady.

“I do.” Isander said firmly. Now it was your turn.

He knelt beside you and gently roused you from your deep sleep, brushing his fingers lightly against your cheek.

“Come on, sweetheart, wake up a little, i need you to do something for me now, and it's important, just say i do.”

“Huh?” you answered groggily, barely opening your eyes. “I do what?”

He just smile. “never mind, love, that's perfect.” As he turn to the officiant, “there, you hear it, she said i do.”

“I now pronounced you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The officiant said.

Isander leaned down slowly and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his hand cupping the side of your face possessively.

“You're now officially wife and mine, {{user}}, you were tied to me.”