#(again sorry for all this. i didn't have the strength to stand and speak at the funeral so i'm spewing it everywhere else apparently lol)

[jandrichov]

a silence that started with love.

words that miss their mark.

doubt that sounds like distance.

someone staying.

someone leaving.

Just Hope It’s Not in Spite

It was late at night. The room was quiet—only the candle crackled now and then, and outside, the warm wind pushed softly against the walls.

Hans sat on the bench with a book in his lap, but he hadn’t read in a while. He just stared at the pages, no longer seeing the words. The door clicked softly.

Henry stepped inside, weary, dust still clinging to his shoulder. He paused in the doorway, as if surprised for a moment to find Hans still awake. Then he closed the door and came closer.

“I was with Devil and Zizka,” he said quietly. “About the patrols.”

Hans looked up. “And?”

Henry searched for words. “Zizka wants to pull together a smaller force. They talked about command. Said I should consider leading my own group.” He paused, then added, “I told them no. That I’ve got other commitments.”

Hans nodded, closed the book, and set it beside him. There was a moment of silence. Then he spoke—calmly, almost too calmly. “Funny how, when command is on the table, no one thinks to mention me. Not even you.”

Henry frowned slightly. “That’s not—”

“I know,” Hans cut in. “I’m not Zizka’s favorite. Or Dry Devil’s. I’m no hero from Suchdol. I just caught an arrow there. Again. Just the one you had to drag out of captivity, now taking up space among them.”

“That’s not true.”

“No?” He looked at him. “Then why does no one ever ask? No one includes me. No one even considers I might be worth something.” After a beat, he added, “And you come back… and tell me what you turned down. Like that’s supposed to cheer me up.”

“It was,” Henry said. “I thought you knew why I said no.”

Hans studied him in silence. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just keep hoping it’s because of me—and not in spite of me.”

Henry lowered his gaze. For a moment, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t even sure he heard Hans’s words the way they were meant.

Something had already started to twist in him—quietly, then deeper. The familiar ache of not being enough, or being too much.

And then it came out, low and tight:

“So now even people liking me is a bad thing?” His voice was quiet, but something in it broke. “That they listen to me. That I’m useful to someone. I thought… you’d be glad about that.”

“I am.” Hans’s voice dropped. “It’s just… sometimes it’s hard not to see how you could have it all. If you didn’t have to drag me along.”

Henry didn’t move. “I’m not dragging you anywhere. I want you beside me.”

Hans turned away. For a while, there was only silence.

“Sometimes I wonder if you really know what I left behind. For you.”

“I do,” Henry answered, barely audible. “I know.”

“But do you also know I never really got the chance… to show who I am?” His voice wasn’t pleading, just tired.

“When I wanted to stand beside you, they wouldn’t let me. When I wanted to be with you, I had to hide. And the only thing they see here is a noble pawn in someone’s marriage game. And of course — a weight on your leg.”

Henry didn’t speak right away. “If you only knew how I hear that…” He stopped, then said quietly, “Not as a complaint. As contempt. For choosing you.”

Hans looked at him—differently this time. Maybe for the first time, he understood.

“I just… sometimes I don’t know what I am to you," he said. “Whether I’m a man you see strength in—or someone who needs to be protected.”

“Both,” Henry said. “And more.”

Hans took a breath, lowered his gaze. “Then I’m sorry. If sometimes I don’t know how to carry it.”

He rose, slowly, without sharpness, without anger. Just worn. “I need some air.”

He stepped outside. The door closed softly. The silence that followed felt heavier than before.

Henry didn't move.

He stayed there a little longer. Holding his breath, as if moving might break something. Then he crossed the room. Once. Twice. Pressed his palm to the doorframe and leaned into it.

His own words echoed in his head. “So now even people liking me is a bad thing?”

And now—now he heard something different in them. Not defense. Not anger. Just the thing he never dared to say out loud. The fear that maybe Hans thought he didn’t need him anymore.

And then he realized what he hadn’t said.

That he sees Hans. Respects him. Admires him. The opposite of weakness.

Devil might not see it. Zizka might not see it. But Henry does.

And he hadn’t told him.

Hans was out there now. Maybe just a few steps away. Maybe farther. But Henry knew where he would go.

He grabbed his cloak and stepped out into the night.

The brook announced itself before the place did. That familiar sound between the rocks, slipping, returning. Then the ravine opened.

It was dark. Truly dark. Only a little moonlight filtered through the branches. And in that, a silhouette.

Hans sat on one of the broad flat stones, his back resting against the slope, knees drawn up, hands on them. His head was bowed, gaze lost somewhere in the shadows.

Henry stood for a moment. He didn’t want to startle him. Then Hans said softly,

“I hoped you’d find me.”

Henry came closer and sat down beside him. Not too close. Not too far. Just enough to be there.

They just listened to the water for a while.

Then Hans exhaled. “I don’t know why I always ruin it just when it feels like everything’s alright. Maybe because I don’t believe it can be. That I’m allowed to keep it.”

Henry didn’t speak. He let him go on.

“I know you meant well. You wanted me to know you stayed for me. And instead I twisted it into… something else.”

He shrugged. “But you know what? Sometimes it feels like… like you’re always looking forward. And I’m the one looking back. At what I gave up. What I failed at. Who I didn’t become.”

He paused again, then said quietly,

“And then I’m afraid… that maybe all I am to you is a burden.”

Henry turned to him. “You’ve never been a burden. Maybe I haven’t said enough. Maybe I didn’t show it. But you mean more to me than anyone ever has.”

After a moment, he went on. “I was angry at you. Felt like you were blaming me for people liking me… And you weren’t.”

He paused again, then added,

“I’m sorry. For leaving you on the outside. And for realizing too damn late.”

Hans looked at him for a long time.

“And I’m sorry,” he said, “for throwing my doubts at your feet. And expecting you to carry them for me.”

Henry reached out and touched his arm—fully, openly. “Next time just say it hurts. We don’t have to build a damn fortress out of silence.”

There was a moment of quiet. Then Henry added:

“And one more thing. You are a strong man, Hans. A damn fine warrior—I’d never want to face you in battle. And your kindness—your care for people, even the wretched ones—that’s a strength beyond measure.

Maybe Zizka or Devil don't see it. But I do.”

Hans stayed quiet.

“And also—” Henry hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “— I couldn’t love a weak man. Even if he was beautiful. Even if he was clever. If he wasn’t strong, he wouldn’t have stayed in me.”

Henry fell silent again. Then finished:

“Your doubts — they’re not weakness. They’re strength. Because who else would still be standing and breathing, with everything you carry?

It’s always been you. You. The man I love unconditionally.”

Hans looked at him. And in that look was everything.

“Henry… I don’t think it’s possible to love someone more than I love you.”

Henry reached out and touched his forehead to Hans’s. Gently. He closed his eyes. Hans didn’t pull away. He stayed there. Together, in the quiet night. And this time, nothing fell apart.

After a while, Henry whispered, “Come home.”

Hans didn’t answer right away. He just breathed. Took in the closeness, the quiet, all the weight and all the lightness between them.

Then he said, softly, “Just a little longer. I want to be here. With you.”

Henry nodded. Slowly, in a quiet agreement that didn’t need words.

He shifted carefully, as if afraid to disturb him, and sat down behind him.

Wrapped his legs around him. Arms too. Gently, without a word.

Hans leaned back into him. His back against Henry’s chest. His head at his shoulder. Not broken. Not weak.

Just like someone coming home.

Henry pressed his lips to Hans’s hair. Inhaled that scent—of night and closeness and forest and him. He left a silent kiss there, hanging like breath.

And there they sat.

Between the trees, the light had started to shift.

[invincidick]

+18

Varient invinsible x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dubious consent, Varient invinsible

Varient invincible follows you onto your train ride home.

an alternate universe where your earth's invincible is one the variants

this is my first ever fic... beware.

If you like this lmk i could totally continue it and if its ass PLS LMK

----------------------------------------------------

Sure, things had been a lot different since the Viltrimites took over earth, but after a few years things sort of went back to normal.

Slowly people rebuilt, got the courage to go back to work, tried to go outside and push back the fear of somehow running into a Viltrimite having a bad day.

You had just gotten off work and headed down to the subway, Your legs ached from standing all day, all you wanted to do was lie at home and relax, you boarded the packed train. As you squeezed in between other passengers, you found a spot against the wall to the left of the train cart. With your headphones in you pulled out your phone to distract yourself from the long, uncomfortable journey back home.

You had just began to get some semblance of relaxation when you heard a string of hushed gasps throughout the train, you glanced up, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary, so you went back to scrolling on your phone.

In the corner of your eye you saw someone pushing past people to your side of the train car. You didn't mind it and just kept scrolling. They continued heading your way until they stopped, directly in front of you.

You glanced in front of you, your heart skipped a beat. A broad muscular chest covered in a black and yellow suit. No you thought to yourself, you squeezed your eyes tight, this isn't happening, this can't be happening. After what felt like a century you finally got the courage to open your eyes again. It wasn't a dream.

For whatever reason you decided to look up, you caught his gaze, a giant smirk plastered on his face.

You never thought you would see him up close again, but it was different this time, this was not the same man who had saved you. After everything he had done there was no way he was the same. He was a killer. That realization made your heart race even faster.

"Miss me babe?" he said snapping you away from your thoughts, you glanced around for help and realized everyone was avoiding looking at the two of you. He placed a firm hand on your jaw and forced you to look at him "Hey, i asked you a question." You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out, your eyes darting back to the other passengers.

"what? they're not gonna save you, you, and everyone else here are completely at my mercy, so i suggest you keep me entertained." The hand around your jaw traced fingers across your pulse, your breath hitched, he really was nothing like the man who saved you years ag.

You needed to say something, anything, "sorry." was all you managed to get out. He laughed "god, you humans are pathetic, but that's what i like about you, it's fun." he said in a cocky tone, his smile never wavering.

Placing his forearm above your head, he leaned in and spoke "you still haven't answered my question." He felt your pulse quicken beneath his fingers.

You felt his breath against your ear and shivered, instinctively your head went to pull away he felt you struggle and tightened his grip. Your arm shot up to grasp his wrist, trying to pull it off of you. "Wow trying to run away already? but the fun was just getting started." Your eyes squeezed shut, he was strong, way too strong, even using every last ounce of strength you had, he didn't even have to try.

His other arm started to move and you thought he had finally got bored of you, when you felt it trace down your side and land on your hip. Your eyes shot open at the touch and your face immediately flushed.

"Huh. Didn't think you'd be that sensitive." He teased. This was getting way too weird, you just weren't used to being manhandled that's it, especially not on a crowded train, and especially not by an attractive, crazy superhero.

There's no way you found him attractive right now.

"No, please" was all you managed to squeak out.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically, his grin getting even wider.

"Even when your body is practically begging for it?" His thumb massaging circles into your hip, dangerously close to the hem of your pants.

Just as a finger started to dip below your waist band the train stopped, and so did he.

The doors next to you opened and you let out a sigh of relief, its finally over. "Welp guess this is our stop." He exclaimed with an innocent smile, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you out.

Once you were off the train he immediately lifted you into his arms ignoring your protests and began to fly you both out of the subway and into the sky. You let out a small cry before hiding your face away in his shoulder and clinging to his neck for dear life, your body pressing hard against his firm chest.

"I Didn't know you liked to move this fast" He said gripping your ass. You squeezed him harder in response, just praying he would enjoy toying with you enough not to drop you.

Once you had finally landed you were completely exhausted from stress, you looked around and realized he had brought you to a giant mansion, his giant mansion. He took over earth for this shit.

"here we are sweetheart" he said as he walked past you towards the door, with nowhere else to go you followed him in. It was pretty trashed all around, empty bottles, takeout lying around, as if somehow had been throwing a nonstop party for the past 2 years.

Before you even realized where exactly you were being led you were in his bedroom with the door shutting behind you

"Seriously, you humans amaze me, one second your begging me to stop and the next you're following me to my room." He said, his voice getting deeper, as he strode towards you like a predator ready to eat its next meal.

"You don't want me to stop."

Grabbing your throat he licked a stripe up the side of your neck and pulled away relishing your bewildered and flushed expression.

"Oh, this is gonna be so much fun"

[neteyawne]

neteyam sully imagine <3

summary; neteyam visits his favorite healer after a hard battle

word count; 2.2k

BLOODIED, BUT BEAUTIFUL.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Neteyam staggered into the healers tent, gritting his teeth together as an attempt to keep himself from hissing due to the pain that was coursing through his entire body 

Y/n was speaking to one of her fellow healers, oblivious to Neteyam standing behind her in dire need of her tender hands

He waited patiently, leaning against the entrance of the tent as he took slow breaths to keep himself from passing out as Y/n let out a laugh at whatever the woman she was speaking with said

Finally - she turned around. Her face content until she saw Neteyam - her cry of surprise had him wincing as she rushed over to him, grabbing his arms immediately and leading him to a cot he could lay down on

"Neteyam - you skxawng! Why didn't you try getting my attention earlier! Oh Eywa look at these wounds!" She said mortified, eyes quickly assessing Neteyam's injuries as he managed a smile

"Hello to you too, Y/n. I like your hair today." He said, barely having the strength to lower himself onto the cot in front of him as Y/n sighed

"Thank you." She said angrily, eyes stressed as she quickly reached for her disinfecting ointments with urgent need

He grunted as he laid down in front of her - the injuries over his body were burning and painful - but the familiar smell of the soothing medicines surrounding him and Y/n's scent allowed his body to relax as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes against the cushion laid for patients to rest their head against when being healed

"Teyam, what happened?" She said quietly, looking over his injuries one last time with a sad frown before dipping her hands into the ointment in front of her as her hands lathered it gently into his skin

He sighed, eyes opening as he watched her work with knitted brows. She was looking at him expectedly as she continued applying the green paste onto his skin

"Bad day for the war party." Was what he finally settled on as he let a wince of pain slip through - Y/n's hands quickly stopping at his rare show of suffering as she looked towards him with a knowing look

"Neteyam. I hate seeing you so hurt." She finally whispered, her voice pained as he finally met her gaze - his eyes crinkled with an ache she wished to sooth.

He stayed silent for a few moments, letting her words settle as he slowly moved his hand towards hers. Seeing he was trying to hold her hand, she quickly moved forward and clasped his hands herself so he wouldn't try to move anymore and risk aggravating his wounds any further

"I know. I am sorry." He said quietly as Y/n let out a huff

"How dare you apologize to me! Take it back! You are hurt, Neteyam. Don't you ever try to say sorry to me again when you are the one to deserve it so much more." She said, her tone truly hurt by his words as both of her hands cupped his gently. He ran his fingers over her knuckles as he let out a breathless laugh

"Ok, ok. Sorry -" He started, but was cut off with her letting out a hiss at his use of the word sorry once again

Finally, he let out a laugh that bubbled all the way from his tummy at her reaction as she let a small smile find its way onto her face

"Now, let your body relax. Think of something peaceful to help you. Deep breaths, Neteyam. Understand?" She asked as he nodded his head, closing his eyes as his mind trailed to a certain someone

It was not hard to have her be the sole thing on his mind as she worked diligently - her scent consuming his senses along with her occasional humming as she worked easily eased the tension from his muscles.

He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep - but her gentle hands cradled his face as she whispered his name

"Neteyam, come on yawne."

He didn't open his eyes when he first heard the words - believing he was just dreaming until he felt her soft fingers trace over his eyelids and nose

With lashes fluttering open, he was met with her concerned eyes as she helped him sit up

He let out a groan as he adjusted, but relaxed quickly as he felt the previous pain from his injuries almost gone. Looking down, his abdomen and arms were wrapped lovingly with her signature style - the cloth warm against his skin as he sighed.

"Thank you. I am sorry - was I sleeping for too long?" He asked sleepily, eyes taking in the now empty healers tent and dark sky that loomed outside

"Yes. I did not want to wake you. Did you sleep well?" She asked gently, helping him stand as he held onto her arm for support - eyes blinking away his tiredness as he slowly nodded his head

"I think that was the best sleep I have had in a very long time." He answered, his hands moving from her arms and around her as he enveloped Y/n in a hug, resting his head against hers as she smiled against his skin

"Well, thank Eywa I didn't let anyone wake you." She laughed quietly as he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head

"Thank you." He said quieter now as Y/n's cheeks quickly tinted with surprise while she blinked, stunned and trying to process what he had just done

Seeing her surprise, he displayed a lazy smile as her ears perked up

"You're welcome. You know, I'd do anything for you." She said softly as he nodded his head

"And I'd do anything for you, Y/n. But you already knew this." He said as she finally rolled her eyes, her sweet smile peeking through as Neteyam grinned at the sight of it

"Tonight, I walk you home." She said, her voice gentle but firm as Neteyam shook his head

"But-" He started, but she gave him a look that had him quieting in a instant as she smiled

"Come on, now. You are in no condition to walk to even your own quarters, let alone mine. Let's go." She reasoned, her hand moving to his palm as she led him out of the tent and towards the familiar path of his families sleeping area

They walked through the resting na'vi silently, Neteyam's hand never leaving hers as the sounds of Pandora's distant night animals filled the silence

She stopped a few meters away from his families quarters, respecting the fact that they were sleeping inside and not wanting to intrude any further as she turned to Neteyam

He looked beautiful in the moonlight. His freckles glowed in the dim light, and she could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Now, you are going to go inside, and go back to sleep. No doing anything else, your injuries need rest." She instructed, his eyes never leaving hers as he listened - nodding his head along to whatever she said

"You see, the wounds you acquired from today were all over your body. To be able to make a full recovery - Neteyam! Are you even listening to a word that I am - " 

But she was cut off by him leaning towards her and pressing his soft lips against hers, his head tilting downwards as she was pressed flush against him - his palms holding her face so lovingly as any sound of surprised that left her lips was silenced by his mouth

Blinking away her shock, she leaned in to him as his arms came up and around her - holding her against him so lovingly that she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes and deepening the passionate kiss

Finally, she broke away from him - lips pink and cheeks alight as she blinked rapidly - her mouth was parted as she struggled to even form a single word. He laughed - a real laugh that had a slow smile creeping onto her face as she tried to look away from him and hide the growing blush she could feel creeping up her neck

But his hands grabbed her face and turned her towards him - his eyes so happy that she couldn't even make herself look away as he began speaking

"How are you going to leave after this? And you know I will not sleep soundly if I do not know you returned back to your bed safely." He whispered as she looked at him silently - eyes round with love as he smiled

"You said it yourself. I am in no condition to walk you to your quarters and back - and I cannot sleep without knowing you are safe - which is something I need to do, according to you, so my wounds heal." He added, a playful glint in his magnificent eyes

"Are you suggesting I stay with you tonight?" She questioned, and his grin broadened as he nodded

"It is nothing shameful. I am making sure my dearest friend is safe with me." He added, his fangs peaking through that same incomparable smile she was so infatuated with as she shook her head, trying to contain her giggles as he reached for her hand

"Come on. You can lay in my hammock, and I can sleep on the ground." He said, mumbling the last words quietly and hoping she wouldn't hear - but unfortunately, the gasp she let out as her eyes snapped towards his let him know she'd heard him perfectly fine

"You sleep on the ground? That better not have been what you said." She exclaimed, brows pulled together and concerned as he rolled his eyes and laughed whilst leading her into his families sleeping quarters

She entered hesitantly, Neteyam turning back to look at her with an encouraging nod of his head as she observed the peacefully sleeping Sully's. They moved quietly to ensure no one was awakened.

He moved to lay in his hammock - which was thankfully large enough for both of them to comfortably lay on as he moved over and outstretched his arm towards her

She laid down, tucking her hands under her face as she laid on her side to look at him. He whispered how pretty she looked and she smiled - swatting his hand away and telling him once again how important sleep was for him as he sighed contently - arms wrapping around her as Y/n rested her head against his chest gently

They'd never been this intimate before - but she loved how natural it felt as their friendship had always been one consisting of them being close to each other. 

She said she'd wake up before the sun was up to walk back to her tent, and Neteyam said he'd walk her there in the early hours of the nearing morning.

Normally she would've awakened in time - but she'd spent the night whispering and giggling with the boy who laid beside her. He was no better, laughing so much that the girl would have to press her palm against his mouth to quiet him. They must have fallen asleep hours later - enveloped in each other's warmth.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Jake stumbled as Lo'ak tugged him along, bouncing like a maniac with one of the widest smiles ever plastered on his face. Neytiri trailed behind the two, fuming at Lo'ak for waking them up - the boy had even been pulling on their hair to get them out of bed and insisting they had to come and see what he had to show them that second

"Lo'ak, boy this better be good or else you are in big tr-" Jake grumbled, but his own voice trailed off as Lo'ak stopped in front of his big brothers hammock 

"Look, guys." He snickers, poking Neteyam's cheek, who laid sleeping - a young girl tucked under his arm as the two slept soundly.

Jake's mouth only hung open as Neytiri stepped forward, carefully examining the two before letting out a pleased gasp once she recognized the girl

"What is Y/n doing here?" Neytiri asked, a smile on her face as she watched her son hold the girl close to him

Jake blinked, shaking his head before answering

"I came to the healer tent to get Neteyam - she shooed me away, said he was sleeping. She was gonna bring him to bed too, I guess she fell asleep here." He said, brows furrowed - confused but happy as he saw how peaceful Neteyam looked as he slept.

Lo'ak looked from his mother to his father, back in forth in disbelief as his mouth hung open

"Are you telling me he is not in trouble?!" He practically shreiked as Neytiri yelped, slapping the back of his neck and telling him to hush

But the two teens stirred, eyes peeking open as Y/n quickly sat up - her eyes adjusting to who stood in front of her before they widened - completely horrified

Neteyam lazily sat up beside her, a sleepy smile on his face as Y/n covered her mouth - shaking her head and muttering someone kill me as Neteyam looked towards his parents and brother

"Good morning." Were the words he'd said, stretching his arms as Y/n bowed her head and covered her face, mortified. Jake and Neytiri's laughter filled the air only moments later.

[tricksh0t]

★ princes don't pout

☾ jacaerys velaryon x top m reader

𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ i'm sorry guys this was ready 20 hours ago but i fell asleep (at 11 pm) then i was busy and then i napped

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 2.10k words

cw: Jace is 18 in this !! age gap, thigh fucking, ser and boy as names, handjob, inexperience, groping, some slight feminization

"It does not befit a prince to pout, Prince Jacaerys." You, a Queen's Guard and his mother's sworn protector, say pointedly.

You have always been a caring figure who looked out for him in every moment, but it has come to the point where you are an extension of his mother, quietly heeding her words and effectively keeping him trapped in his own home.

Your protection and your very presence make him feel safe; and your charming humor, in the rare moments you are not driven by his mother's words, bring a yearning to his chest. Jace wishes for something else from you.

He's got a crush.

A crush that has him blushing madly every time he does something remotely embarrassing, that has him doing anything to prove himself to you. A crush that makes him, though the moments are sparse, anything you tell him to.

Currently, you stare down at him with a disappointed look just like his mother does.

"What did you expect, my Prince?" You raise your eyebrow at him, making shame rise in his chest unintentionally. "For me to accept? I protect your virtue, my Prince, not tarnish it."

And to that, Jace simply answers, "Please?"

You can't help but chuckle at that, which makes him feel as though you're not taking him seriously. "What do you want, exactly?" You ask, after sobering up.

"I want you."

"My Prince–"

Jace wasn't pouting before, but he certainly was now. He tilts his head like a puppy.

He's cute, you'll admit to yourself, at least. He's cute, trying to gain the attention of an older man, thinking in his youth and naivety that something long lasting will come of it.

He plays the innocent card, with that pout. He's more clever than he paints himself to be, as he'd lured you into his chambers under the guise of "feeling unsafe" and cornered you against the end of his bed.

He wants this, wants you, and has clearly been planning for it.

"Alright." You concede with a sigh.

Immediately, Jace is pushing you onto the bed and beginning the long process of removing your armor. You know it is the familiarity of the belts and buckles of armor that makes him so quick, but a part of you thinks that it's because he's imagined removing it many times before, looking at where each piece separates and clasps together like looking for an enemy's weaknesses.

But he is all too eager.

"Wait, boy." You grasp at his curls and tug, causing him to wince. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on, tugging at his usually perfect hair and seeing how quickly he comes to a stop. "I will not bed you before you are wed."

"What?"

"I will use your thighs," Jace pouts, ready to protest, but you give his hair a tug again. "and you will stand it, because it is all I will give."

"But how?"

Jace's breath hitches when you pull him onto your lap. He lets out something of a whimper when your hands land on his hips. "You were so eager to disrobe me, focus on that first."

His movements are more sluggish at first, slowed by a feeling of defeat, but as more of you is exposed, he starts up a lustful fever again. Your armor is gone in seconds, clanging on the floor without a care, but then there is your underarmor clothing. Finally, as your chest is exposed, Jace slows. His breaths grow ragged.

The hair on your chest speaks age, strength, the mark of a man. Jacaerys himself does not have any, not yet, at least. It's why he almost seems enamoured.

His hand follows down the hair on your chest to the trail on your abdomen, his first time seeing a happy trail so prominent.

When his hands find the top of your trousers, he hesitates, the first time of the night. "Ser?"

"Yes?"

His eye is on the shape of the arousal in your pants, you realize.

"I want it."

He sounds so sure of it. It's adorable, because he's pouting again, because he wants something he doesn't even know that he can't handle without sweatwork.

"You may not have it." Your words leave no room for negotiation.

Jace hurries again, to undo your trousers and take them off, pulling along with them your underwear, as if throwing a fit.

He does not take the time to admire the shape of your cock like he did your chest. For a moment you think he might undress and force himself down on it, in defiance of you, but he doesn't. He's obedient like that; and though you know he doesn't like it when you order him around like his mother, he does not disobey, either.

He lays down on top of you, stubborn still with the way he presses his cheek against the warmth of your chest and looks away from you. His clothed thighs squeeze around your cock, but then he lies still just like that, because you hadn't told him how and he's unwilling to ask.

If he's so determined to be defiant, you'll do it for him.

Jace gasps when you part your legs and his lower half falls onto the bed. He thinks you're mocking him further when your hands, sickeningly slow and gentle, caress a path down his spine. He hates that it brings dragonfire to his cheeks and that it leaves shivers in its wake.

He hates even more so that when you reach the curve of his ass and squeeze two handfulls, it sends a shock through his nerves.

He thinks he's subtle, or maybe it's instinct, as he sinks lower down your chest and right into your hands. You push him back up, though, making him whine embarrasingly. He was just looking for your touch and you're pushing him back?

Your hands leave his rear, and he'd like to complain, but then they're pulling down his trousers and pants. It almost seems like his asscheeks bounce when the material is past the swell of them, making you chuckle.

The dragonfire in Jace's cheeks burns with embarrasment.

You know what you're filling pressed against you from his still covered front. You're not ashamed of unveiling it, but you're sure he is.

"S-Ser?"

You ignore him, lifting his hips with one hand and pulling the trousers off with the other. When you let his hips fall back down, his hard-on presses against your abdomen, providing just enough friction for a desperate Jace to moan.

His eyes immediately slam shut, and your hand comes up to his cheek to keep him against your chest, to caress it.

"Yes, sweet boy?" You answer now.

"Nevermind..." He replies sheepishly.

You push his trousers down as far as you can reach, revealing all the soft, unmarked skin underneath. He's just a prince, unworked, only trained, never been in a real battle. It makes it feel like a novelty, to be the first man to touch him like this.

"You wanted to know how, yes?"

"Y-Yes."

"Keep your thighs together. Use your knees to move and hands to keep yourself up." You help him at first, hands on his outer thighs and helping them up and down. "Do you feel what muscles that's using, boy?"

"Yes, Ser."

"Then use them."

He's sloppy at first, when you've just stopped helping him. His legs try to part instinctively as his knees dig into the mattress, but he remembers to squeeze them soon after.

He grows more coordinated and purposeful soon enough, getting into the rhythm. Soft sighs escape his mouth, not just because he's happy to please you, but because he's grinding his dick against your abdomen each time he comes down.

You grab a handful of his hair, just a hold. It's a reminder of when you tugged his hair, so when you speak, he listens. "You're grinding down on me, Prince."

"I'm sorry." Jace says quickly, in a cry, but he can't find himself stopping. Sighs turn to obscenities uttered under his breath, as you've finally coaxed his mouth to open. "Fuck."

He sounds desperate to stop, and yet he can't stop himself.

"It's okay." You say, the hold on his hair turning into a caress. "You can keep doing that, can't you?"

"Yes, Ser, I can." He says, resolute.

His thighs around your cock, squeezing...they're soft, so soft, like fucking into a cloud, one of those he flies into, and his skin is smooth, too, unblemished, unmarked, unused.

Your hands are on his thighs again, not helping, but feeling. Jace's moans grow a tad louder as you touch him.

You squeeze and meld the flesh of his thighs without a thought, just mesmerized by how good they feel around you and how malleable the fat of them seems to be, squishy under your hands.

"Ser!" Jace exclaims.

Startled, you ask. "Prince?"

"Ser..." You realize later that he is merely moaning your title as you provide him pleasure.

You look down at him, only noticing that he is blissed out of his mind based on his facial expression before another matter takes your mind.

Further down, you can just barely see the tip of your cock peaking out not from between his thighs but from below the curve of his ass. That too is unmarked, and for the night, yours. For the first time, really, he's someone's, yours.

You reach to grasp his asscheeks, and then, truly, you cannot see your cock.

Jace, on his part, cannot think about the perverted way you hold him as he chases his own pleasure. With each movement of his hips, he grinds his cock down on your abdomen unabashedly.

"Oh, Ser."

"Just like that, boy."

Your voice is a dirty whisper into his ear that has his body working past his limits.

This isn't what he wanted, but it might as well be.

It's, what? Delicious? The shock that rides his spine each time he presses down against you, to know that squeezing his thighs around you is pleasing you. He knows the pre that's making the slide of his thighs easier is yours, but he can't help but think if it like the slick of a cunt.

Jace shivers, his head melded against your chest. The hairs of it tickle his ear and chafe the side of his face with rough burns, but it's you, so he doesn't mind.

This is what he wanted, to have you.

He doesn't know that it's quick, but it is, when he finishes.

You push him down by the ass and still him, let him rest. He's a sweaty, spent mess against you, but you know he's happy.

"That all you wanted, prince?"

You don't expect Jacaerys to shake his head. He gulps back built up drool and speaks, "N-No. You too, Ser, please."

He tries to move his hips again, but between exhaustion and your hands, he can't. "I can't ask that of you."

"Let me see you finish, or...or let me do it!" He's eager for it. On shaky hands, he pushes his chest up and looks at you, with that pout.

"Princes don't pout, Prince Jacaerys."

He wasn't looking for the pleasure, not really. He was looking to fuck you, and you specifically, and in his mind, that only ended with you cumming.

"Please?"

"Alright." You concede with a sigh. You lift your hands, but then he's straining his knees and hips again. "Ah-ah, prince. Sit up. Use your hand."

Jace does so, gratefully. He sits up, on his knees, and his hand quickly gets to work.

It's like you've given him purpose, and he's resolute once more.

Unlike his thighs, his hands have been worked, training with swords, holding reigns and saddles and dragon spikes over the years. Still, he is a prince, less worked than any man you have ever been with before your servitude as a King's and then Queen's Guard.

That only means he's more dextrous and his hand works you up and down fast. He stares down at your cock, admiring it, as he hadn't earlier.

He still wants it.

But he'll obey you, like he usually does.

As you finish, Jacaerys smiles. You finished because of him, and he's content with that.

"There." You say, after regaining your breath. "Satisfied now, prince?"

He ticks some things off his spontaneous mental checklist: no kiss, you weren't inside him nor the opposite, no cuddling; but you wouldn't do any of that, either. You'd never let him.

Jace sighs, "As much as I can be."

[pyro-les]

Jealousy- Rio Vidal X Reader

918 words - warnings: none

Based on a request by @baysha1822

"You know, Agatha put together a pretty good coven, you gotta give her that."

"I don't know the green witch is pretty weird. She's definitely hiding something." Jen replies, Lilia and Alice humming in agreement. Rio was definitely the most suspicious of the group and considering they had a witch who had a rune hiding their identity and one of the most feared witches of all time, literally known for killing her own coven it was a pretty high bar.

"We're doing alright on strength though, Y/N is clearly pretty powerful." Lilia adds to the discussion.

"Pretty cute too." Alice replies, everyone agreeing yet again as they look behind them to Y/N strolling casually along the road while chatting to Teen. What they didn't realise was Rio walking ahead of them was listening to their conversation her anger steadily growing.

She may not have known most of the coven long but she was really starting to dislike them, how dare they start talking about Y/N like that? Did they not realise who they were messing with?

Sitting around a small campfire in attempt to bond Y/N poses a new discussion topic, "what did you guys do in the blip?". A loaded topic to say the least.

The group all pause for a moment, fearing she had said something wrong Y/N started to speak again "You don't have to answer that. I don't know why I asked that, I'm sorry." For someone so powerful she sure could be pretty shy.

The awkward tension dissapears as soon as it had arisen as the group start to chuckle, mixed responses of "don't worry hun.", and "no harm done hot stuff" each reply more flirtatious then the last.

"Well as you know I was pretty busy at the start of it. Alot of backlog to get through you know." Rio spoke with a chuckle. The others all turned to look at her with curiosity, they were clearly missing something that Y/N seemed to know if her small laugh at Rio's responses was anything to go by.

"You're laughs so pretty" Jen says to Y/N, who muffles out a small "thanks, I guess." In reply. Considering how much Rio complemented the witch it was ridiculous just how awkward she was responding to them.

"It really is! Everything about you is pretty." Alice adds on honestly.

Oh this was too much, Rio thought. How dare these poor excuses for witches keep flirting with her Y/N? Did they not get the message the last gods knows how many times they tried to flirt with her only for Rio to pull her closer or change the topic.

Y/N looked over to Rio, sensing her tension rising. Trying to help calm her she says to the rest of the coven "thanks but you guys really don't need to keep complementing me so much."

Taking her statement as Y/N simply being humble Jen takes an extra step too far, " Oh your cute, do you really think you don't deserve the praise? I'm starting to think you actually don't get compliments anywhere near enough if your response is anything to go by."

Now seething with anger Rio steps in "Do you really think that? That I wouldn't compliment her enough, that I'm not enough?!"

"Chill out dude, she's just being nice" Alice replies quickly followed by Lilia asking "what do you mean, you're not enough?" Clearly the only one to pick up her specific wording other than Agatha who had been watching with a small smirk, enjoying watching the sparks fly.

Standing up with her knife in hand Rio starts to stalk towards the rest of the coven with a smile on her face "She told you to stop, is that not enough? I don't care if you're just "being nice", she's mine!"

Clearly not taking her seriously Jen keeps digging her grave "Oh I get it, you're jealous she'll like us more than you?" Looking over to Y/N still sitting awkwardly on the log across from her she adds on "what do you say cutie?"

Bringing her knife right to her throat Rio seethes out "Enough! Do you really have no care for your own life? Is this really how you'd like to go? Because I'd be more than happy to assist if that's your plan." Lilia and Alice watch with baited breath, too scared to do anything while Agatha still watches from the side letting out the occasional laugh.

Jen just smiles up at Rio, maybe she really did have a death wish.

Finally stepping in again Y/N walks towards Rio and snakes her arms around her waist hushing in her ear "It's ok baby."

Leaning back into Y/N's touch, Rio starts to calm down a bit but not letting go of her knife currently still against Jen's throat as a small drip of blood starts trailing down her chest. Y/N runs one of her hands along Rio's arm, slowly going up to hold her hand gripping her dagger and bringing her hand away from Jens throat.

Finally calm Rio puts her dagger back in it's sheath and turns towards Y/N, her hands automatically going to her waist.

"Well that was fun." Agatha finally speaks up, breaking the silence.

"What was?" Teen asks, walking towards the group, looking over curiously to Rio and Y/N now standing close together side by side.

Laughing Alice replies "Oh you have missed so much kid."

A/N: this is my first AAA fic and I wrote it pretty fast so I apologise if any of the characters a bit OOC. That being said if you did enjoy it please let me know if you'd like more Rio fics and if you have any requests my askbox is open:)

[icarusignite]

You’re on Your Own, Kid (p.1)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Civilian!Reader

Summary: Amongst the glittering heights of Gotham's elite, you fight to build something of your own, only to watch it crumble under the weight of your father’s sins. And just when you need him most, Bruce Wayne vanishes, leaving you to weather scandal, betrayal, and ruin alone. Love turns to silence. Devotion becomes distance. Now, as the city tears you apart, he watches from the shadows, haunted by the truth, and by the pieces of you he left behind.

Tropes: childhood friends to lovers. Pre-established relationship. Possessive Bruce. Fluff and domesticity. Some angst and betrayal later on, and Bruce being emotionally constipated, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff. promise he'll grovel in part 2

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: LOL the conglomerate shenanigans mentioned here are just to set the stage, so it may not be entirely accurate. We're just going for vibes once again. Also, I'm sorry I keep splitting these into parts, I just have a hard time keeping focus when it gets too long and then I'm not able to proofread it lol. Also, I had Dan Mora's Bruce in mind when I wrote this cuz he is scrumptious, but honestly feel free to imagine your fav, they're all hot af <3 As usual comments/reblogs/likes are all super appreciated, I love hearing yalls thoughts!

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

The room you were in was too cold and grey, full of men who thought salt-and-pepper hair and a Rolex gave them license to speak louder and listen less. You sat at the long conference table, posture straight, pen tapping an idle rhythm against the polished mahogany. Across from you, some relic of the financial world droned on about stock volatility and historical precedence, his words wrapped in condescension and misplaced self-importance.

You should've given him the respect his tenure demanded, but the way his eyes passed over you, like you were ornamental rather than integral, sent a rush of disdain crawling up your spine. Respect, as far as you were concerned, was earned, not assumed. And certainly not owed to anyone who looked at you like you were a misdelivered invitation.

Still, you'd been born into a world of masks and teeth, and you wore yours like fine silk. Your smile was patient, and you nodded politely through his tirade, letting him tire himself out like a dog barking at a closed door. Then, with poise as sharp as a stiletto heel, you stood.

"I appreciate your concerns," you said smoothly, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "But allow me to show you why they're unfounded."

You clicked your presentation open, and the sleek slides glowed behind you, casting your silhouette in authority. Your voice, when it rang out, was crisp and commanding. You outlined every metric, forecasted every outcome, and highlighted each strategic benefit of the partnership with the precision of a scalpel. Your delivery was not just persuasive, it was irrefutable.

"And with Wayne Enterprises' logistical strength paired with our R&D innovation, projected returns stand to exceed expectations by the second quarter. This isn't just a good move. It's a brilliant one."

A thoughtful silence followed. You saw it in the way heads tilted slightly, the furrow of brows that wasn't skepticism but grudging admiration. Most of the room wore expressions of reluctant respect, like they hadn't expected much and had gotten more than they bargained for.

Except him. The same fossil from earlier, with his cheap cologne and cheaper smirk, leaned forward and said, "That all sounds lovely, but are we to believe this isn't just a shiny little passion project? You paint a pretty picture, but partnerships with startups like yours are risky, even with your—" he paused, eyes sweeping you up and down in a gesture that wasn't even subtle, "—charisma."

Your responding smile was dangerous. From the corner of your eye, you saw your boyfriend's hand tighten just slightly where it rested near his coffee. There was a tick in his jaw, a silent flare of temper you knew too well. He sat at the head of the table, a quiet monolith in tailored charcoal, the very definition of controlled power. CEO of Wayne Enterprises, majority shareholder, your childhood best friend, and right now, a storm barely held at bay.

You cut him off with a single sharp glance. A silent don't you dare.

If you were going to navigate this brutal industry, you wouldn't do it in the shadow of Bruce Wayne, not even as the person who owned his heart.

You looked back at the man with the condescending tone and the fragile ego. "Well, if by 'passion project' you mean a venture backed by years of market research, two patents pending, and one multimillion-dollar seed round completed in half the time it takes most of your portfolio companies to launch a website—then yes. I suppose you could call it that."

A few sniggers rang around the room, but you kept going.

"As for risk, I would suggest you revisit our financials—slide seventeen if you missed it. The risk assessment is well within tolerance, and frankly, far lower than that synthetic textiles deal you pushed through last spring. Remember that? Didn't pan out so well."

You didn't blink as you said it, and the man's face darkened, but he didn't speak again. When you sat down, the room was quiet, save for the quiet shuffle of notes and murmurs of agreement. You felt it: the shift. You were the storm they hadn't seen coming.

And across the table, Bruce's eyes never left you. His expression was unreadable to the rest of them, but you saw the subtle lift of one brow, the corner of his mouth twitching. Pride, and something warmer.

The remainder of the meeting slipped by quickly, numbers tossed across the table like poker chips, and for once, most of them landed in your favour. A majority vote. A round of congratulations followed—handshakes, nods, and smiles with just enough sincerity to count. You took them all in stride, offering your own gratitude before ducking out hurriedly. 

You didn't see the way Bruce's gaze followed you, how his tall frame lingered near the doorway a moment too long, as if willing you to turn back. As if he expected you to wait for him, to fall in step beside him the way you usually did.

But you didn't. You had people to meet. Calls to make. Updates to deliver. Your world moved fast, and you moved faster.

The rest of your day passed in a blur of boardrooms and breakout meetings, each conversation a continuation of the victory you'd carved out that morning. You wore your exhaustion like armour, hidden beneath crisp tailoring and a resolute gleam in your eye that warned anyone from suggesting you take a break.

By the time the last of your employees had filed out and the office corridors grew quiet with the hush of after-hours, you were at the end of your tether. You decided to take a short break, strolling the hallways of your headquarters and rolling your neck with a sigh, fingers kneading at the stiff knot beneath your collarbone.

Just then, a hand caught your wrist, pulling you gently into the shadow of an alcove. You inhaled sharply out of reflex, your spine going taut, until your gaze met a pair of broad shoulders you knew better than your own reflection.

The tension bled out from your body. "Bruce."

The man in front of you didn't let go. "Shouldn't you have gone home by now? What're you still doing here?"

"This is my workplace. I've still got work," you pointed out. "It's you who should've gone home by now. You're the guest here, after all."

"You can let your team handle the rest of it."

"You know I can't do that."

Bruce exhaled slowly, the sound edged with exasperation. His hands slid from your wrist to your shoulders, thumbs pressing into the tight muscles there with surprising care. You almost groaned at the relief, but bit it back, refusing to show him that you were this close to melting under his touch.

"You've been staying up late for weeks trying to finalize this deal," he said softly, brows furrowing. "And now that you have, you should rest. It's not healthy for you to go on like this. Let me take you out to lunch."

"Not healthy? Says the man with an even worse sleep schedule than me?" You glanced at the elegant watch on your wrist and lamented. "And at this time, we should be grabbing dinner."

Bruce shrugged with that maddening nonchalance of his, as if time were merely a suggestion. "Sure. Dinner it is, then."

"Bruce...don't tell me you skipped lunch too."

He had the nerve to look unbothered. "Not my fault someone was too busy to accompany me."

You blinked, guilt nibbling at the edge of your resolve, but before you could offer any apologies, he spoke again. 

"You know, I almost threw my coffee at him."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"The man from earlier." The words left his mouth bitterly. "The way he looked at you. Talked to you. Like he thought he was clever, like he thought he could get under your skin."

"Oh? That's what got under your skin?"

Your boyfriend didn't flinch. Just looked at you with that heavy, unreadable intensity that made your heart beat a little too loud in your chest. "I don't like when other men look at you like that. Like they're entitled to even think about you."

"Bruce!" Your voice was half reprimand, half breathless laugh. "Are you seriously jealous of a man who couldn't even figure out how his PowerPoint slides worked?"

"I'm serious."

You sighed, reaching up to smooth your fingers along the lapels of his blazer. "So am I. And besides, I handled him just fine."

His expression didn't shift for a moment, but eventually, the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

"Yes," he admitted almost reverently. "You did." 

His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second before flicking back up. "You always do."

You grinned, triumphant. "Damn right, I do."

"But that doesn't mean I liked it. I know you can fight your own battles. That doesn't mean I want to watch someone else try to belittle you and get away with it."

You slipped your hands up, resting them on either side of his neck. "You don't have to protect me."

"I know. That's why I didn't step in."

"Good." You tapped his chest twice, firmly. "Because if you did, I'd have made you wait in the hallway like a schoolboy. You are in my territory after all."

That earned you a proper smirk. "Someone's bold today."

"You're impossible."

"And you're brilliant," he returned, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. "Which is why you deserve a dinner where no one interrupts you or calls your projections ambitious like it's an insult."

"Only if you promise to pick a place with no paparazzi. I am not dressed to be captured at unflattering angles."

Bruce pulled back in disbelief. "You're joking."

You stepped away and gestured to yourself with a dramatic flourish, as if unveiling a masterpiece gone awry. "Am I? Look at me. This blazer?" You plucked at the crumpled lapel. "Was an emergency grab after I spilled coffee on my blouse and had to scrub it out in the office bathroom like some tragic rom-com character." You pointed to the faintly darker patch near your waist. "Still damp."

His eyes followed your motions with the tenderness of a man who saw none of the chaos you were describing.

"And my hair looks like I lost a battle with a fan and a filing cabinet." 

Bruce didn't even blink. "You look stunning."

"You're just saying that."

"No. I'm not. You look stunning. Like you always do."

You faltered, ever so slightly, and despite the frustration, the day-old coffee stains, and the ache in your spine from too many hours hunched over a screen, you believed him.

You glanced down at yourself again, then back at him. "You, on the other hand, are a walking PR campaign. How is it that after several hours and three crises, you still look like you just stepped out of a magazine cover shoot?"

He winked. "Genetics. And less coffee spillage, apparently."

You groaned, swatting at his chest again. "Unfair."

Bruce caught your hand mid-air and laced his fingers through yours. "Dinner," he insisted, gently tugging you forward again. "No cameras to capture your alluring charm. I'd rather keep that all to myself tonight."

You hesitated, the fight draining from your shoulders. "Alright. But if I see even one camera flash—"

"I'll tackle them myself," he promised, lips brushing the back of your hand with just enough gravity to make your breath hitch.

"How noble of you. Gotham's very own superhero."

"And you're still the most beautiful person in the room."

"Stop flirting with me. I might start thinking you like me."

He looked at you so intensely that your knees almost buckled. "I do."

And just like that, you melted.

It was ridiculous how quickly his words could undo you. There was no grand gesture, no dramatic speech, no orchestra swelling behind him, and yet the way he said it, low and certain and entirely unbothered by how much it affected you, made your heart stumble in its rhythm.

You suddenly understood why he'd been granted that moniker: Gotham's most eligible bachelor. The billionaire playboy. The man whose name was always paired with another woman's on gossip sites, his photo splashed across magazine covers, eyes smouldering, collar artfully undone.

Bruce Wayne knew how to be charming.

He wielded charisma the way other men wielded money or power. Elegantly. Effortlessly. And oh, hadn't you once mocked him for it? You'd teased him mercilessly, rolling your eyes at every tabloid article and every polished date-night photo he'd been caught in before the two of you became something real.

You'd called them all fools—the ones who let themselves be swayed by a well-timed smirk. Now you knew yourself to be the biggest fool of all. Despite how fiercely you'd resisted, despite how determined you'd been to never lose yourself to his charm, you had failed. You'd been dating for nearly a year now. Long enough that you should be used to him, to the casual intimacy, and the way he always found you at the end of the day like a tether pulling him home.

But you weren't used to it. Not even close. Somehow, it never stopped feeling surreal, that you were the person he looked at like this. Like you hung the stars.

"You're dangerous," you remarked, swallowing thickly. 

Bruce grinned. "Only to the people who would hurt you."

"No. To me."

His expression shifted, but you turned away before he could say anything more and you let yourself fall deeper. You tugged him down the hallway by the hand still clasped in yours.

"Come on, then." You cast a look over your shoulder. "You promised me dinner."

He followed obediently as if there was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be. "Of course. Just you and me, and hopefully someplace with real silverware."

"And dessert?"

"Only if you behave."

Your grin was wicked. "So... no dessert then."

"Now whose the one being impossible?" Bruce chuckled, that rare, warm sound that started deep in his chest and made your insides glow. 

"For the record," you added, "if anyone should be jealous, it's me."

"Oh?"

"Nearly half my staff looked ready to faint the moment you loosened your tie during your introduction."

"Guess I'll have to keep my tie on, then."

"Hmm, we'll revisit that decision later."

Behind you, Bruce Wayne smiled like a man who knew exactly how lucky he was.

Bruce insisted on driving, and you didn't protest. It was late, your feet ached from running around in pinching shoes all day, and the thought of slipping into the cocoon of his ridiculously luxurious car made the decision an easy one. Besides, he offered with that maddeningly smooth baritone of his, "You can pick up your car from here tomorrow morning. I'll drive you myself if you have to."

"I already have a chauffeur, Bruce," you teased. "I don't need another one."

You sank into the plush leather of the passenger seat with a sigh, the door shutting out the world behind you. The subtle scent of his cologne clung to the air—sandalwood, bergamot, and something inherently him. It wrapped around you like a second skin, comforting and just a little dizzying.

When you turned your head lazily toward the driver's seat, you found Bruce already watching you with that unnerving intensity. A thousand thoughts cycloned behind those stormy blue eyes, none of which he'd voice until he was ready.

You opened your mouth to say something teasing—probably about the dramatics of being stared at like a particularly compelling oil painting—but then he shifted, reaching into the inside pocket of his tailored coat to draw out a small velvet box.

Your body tensed before your mind had time to catch up. It was absurd. You'd been dating for almost a year, not nearly long enough to expect anything that serious. Right? Nonetheless, the sight of the box alone made your pulse quicken. It would not be entirely unwelcome. 

"Bruce—"

He opened it before you could spiral further, and nestled inside was not a ring, but a necklace. It was platinum, by the look of it, with a slender, almost imperceptible inlay of black diamonds. Refined and sleek, just like him. 

"To mark the deal," he clarified. "The start of another successful venture."

"You couldn't have possibly known the deal would go through."

He looked at you like you'd just insulted Alfred's biscuits. "Of course I did. You always accomplish what you set your mind to."

When he motioned for you to turn in your seat, you obeyed without a word. Warm fingers brushed your hair gently to one side, lingering just a moment too long against your skin before he reached around to fasten the clasp. The metal was cool against your collarbone, but his kiss to the back of your neck made you forget that detail entirely.

It wasn't just the kiss. It was the reverence in it. As if he were grounding you, silently telling you that in a world so ruthlessly fast, so relentlessly sharp, you were the one thing he wanted to slow down for.

You turned back to face him, feeling more seen than you had all day, but then something caught your eye. There was a faint bruise along his right cheekbone. Barely visible under the glow of the dashboard lights, but unmistakably there.

You frowned. You'd been too busy these past few weeks to pay proper attention, but now that you looked, he seemed worn. There was a touch of stiffness in the way he moved, the slight tightness around his eyes that didn't come from fatigue alone.

You had known Bruce Wayne since you were kids. You had seen him fall from trees and scrape his knees, heard him lie his way out of trouble with that disarming charisma. You knew the man behind the socialite mask better than most, so you knew this wasn't new.

You didn't know exactly what he did during the weeks he disappeared—off the grid, unreachable, returning with faint limps and fresh bruises he never explained. But you had a suspicion. You hadn't confronted him yet, of course. Not because you didn't care, but because you cared too much. You knew that if you pulled too hard on that thread, it would unravel something neither of you were quite ready to face.

You reached up without thinking, fingers ghosting just beneath the bruise. "You've been busy too," you murmured. "Are you alright?"

Bruce felt the guilt settle in his chest the moment your lips brushed his cheek, just above the fading bruise. It was a small gesture, but so full of love, that it tore through him like a bullet. You kissed him like he was something precious. Like he wasn't a man slowly weaving a noose around the neck of your world.

He'd lied to you.

No, not lied, just omitted. The difference was razor-thin, but he felt the sting regardless. The necklace hadn't just been a gift to celebrate your business deal. It was an apology for the truth he was keeping from you.

You thought he was there to support you today. And he was. He had been watching you with pride blooming in his chest as you stood your ground, fielded every question, and held your own like the veteran you were, but that wasn't the only reason he'd been in the building.

He hadn't told you about all his meetings later, and the real reason he had been at your office so late. He hadn't told you about your father.

Bruce knew too well that power often wore its virtue like a mask, and now, whispers were swirling—accounts of shady dealings, money funnelled through offshore accounts, associations with criminal networks that had never seen daylight. Whispers he couldn't ignore.

And your father had never been a man who left loose ends. Which meant that this building—your building—was a mausoleum of secrets waiting to be cracked open. And you, his only child, were the heir to it all.

You chattered beside him in the car, unaware of the war waging inside his head. You flitted between stories about team dynamics, upcoming plans, and the assistant you were mentoring, while all he could do was scrutinize you. 

Did you know? Were you wearing a mask, just like him? Had you always been pretending, too?

He hated the thoughts as soon as they surfaced. Hated that his instinct was to doubt you, but that was the curse of the cowl. Every time he got too close to something good, his mind reached for the cracks in it. He lived his life trying to peel back facades, so what right did he have to pretend your smile wasn't another mask?

And yet, you had been the one and only real thing in his life. He glanced at you, noting the way you absentmindedly toyed with the chain he had clasped around your neck. The little frown you gave your phone when the screen lit up with emails. The way you never took your eyes off him, even while talking, as if making sure he was still there.

If it was a mask, it was the most convincing one he'd ever seen, and that scared him more than anything.

If you were indeed hiding something, if you had known what heinous crimes your father was involved in, if you'd lied to him just as he was lying to you now, Bruce wasn't sure what he'd do. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to separate the man from the mission. If he could still do what he had to do when the time came.

The fall of your father's legacy was inevitable, and when it did come—when it came by his own hand—he prayed to every god he didn't believe in that he'd be able to extract his heart from it all. Because right now, it was tangled up in you.

Hopelessly. Irrevocably.

And the part that terrified him most? He wasn't sure he even wanted to untangle it.

Bruce let your voice wash over him, tugging him gently away from the grim spiral of his thoughts.

"...and of course, I had to step in before they nearly came to blows over who gets to run point on outreach," you were saying, exasperated but amused. "I had to remind them we're running a corporation, not a reality TV show."

"Sounds like you're running a daycare."

"You're not wrong." You leaned your head back against the seat, stretching your arms forward with a tired groan. "Except they're all in their fifties and think an Excel spreadsheet is a form of advanced sorcery."

He chuckled, eyes wandering across the empty parking lot around him, willing himself to put an end to your rambles and start the car. But he liked it when you talked like this, unguarded and loose-limbed with the ease of being with someone who knew you too well to be impressed. You didn't try to dazzle him. You never had to.

You sighed, the air in your lungs leaving you in a huff. "Now that my father's stepping back from everything, it means I have to do all of this myself."

Bruce's hands flexed ever so slightly on the wheel, but you didn't notice. "You never have to do anything by yourself."

Another lie. 

You shot him a grateful look. "Thanks, but I mean, he says he's taking time off to prioritize 'other things,' but won't tell me what those things are. Knowing him, it's either an obscure island retreat with no cell reception or another one of his mysterious hobbies that he refuses to elaborate on. Meanwhile, I'm playing heir, HR manager, and brand strategist all at once."

He hummed in acknowledgment.

"I had to sit down with one of our interns yesterday because she thought responding to emails with reaction memes was acceptable workplace etiquette."

Bruce raised a brow. "You're rather involved, aren't you? I'm sure someone else could have handled it in your stead. Give you time to decompress."

You shrugged. "That's what Father says, but I like doing things my way. You get to know your employees better like this."

That made him smile despite himself. Your ability to find humour in every situation, to lead without being cold, to carry the weight of an empire and yet talk about it like it was just another Tuesday impressed him more than anything. 

All the while, he sat beside you, nodding along without giving you an inkling of what he was hiding. If he told you—if he said your father wasn't just retreating to some hidden beach or vague spiritual journey but was instead being investigated for laundering money through shell companies tied to mob interests—you might stop looking so at peace. You might stop trusting him, and he wasn't quite ready for that.

Eventually, you turned to face him, a lopsided smile pulling at your lips. "I'm boring you, aren't I?"

He shook his head. "No. You never bore me."

Your grin deepened, and you leaned forward to press your cheek against his shoulder affectionately. "You're sweet when you're tired."

Bruce didn't answer. Didn't tell you that sweetness had nothing to do with it. He was simply hanging on to this moment because it might be the last. 

When he pressed his lips to the top of your head, you closed your eyes and tilted your face upward, waiting. You were bathed in moonlight where it streamed through the windshield, casting silver onto your cheekbones—beautiful in a way that made something twinge in Bruce's chest.

God, how was he supposed to let this go?

The following week would no doubt bring chaos. Warrants. Arrests. Headlines. And your last name and company would be at the center of it all.

You hadn't done anything. He tried to believe it with every fibre of his being. Nevertheless, innocence wouldn't shield you from collateral damage, and your father's sins had already rooted themselves deep into the legacy you were expected to carry. Bruce knew what it was like, to wear the weight of someone else's mistakes. 

He moved before he could talk himself out of it, drinking in the sight of you under the cool glow of Gotham's night. Your eyes were half-lidded with burnout, lips slightly parted as you caught your breath after a long day, and he thought that this might be the last time he'd get to see you like this. 

Peaceful. Unburdened. His.

With one hand cradling your jaw, and the other threading through your hair, he kissed you—suddenly, feverishly—as if trying to drink in every second of you before the world tore it away.

You made a sound of surprise against his mouth but didn't pull away, and your lips moved instinctively, the weariness dissipating from your frame as you gripped his lapel.

It was a desperate kiss. Apologetic. Fiercely tender in the way sorrow often was. His mouth moved with urgency as if he could etch himself into your bones through the press of his lips, and his thumb brushed the high point of your cheek, memorizing the shape.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, eyes dark and searching as he pressed his forehead to yours. You whispered something he didn't quite catch, dazed from the intensity of it all, your fingers curling loosely at his chest.

He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you nothing. 

You were the one to break the silence first. "If that's your way of saying congratulations, I approve."

Bruce snickered, still studying you like he hadn't convinced himself you were real. "Not exactly what I had planned."

"Well, if you're going to keep kissing me like the world's ending, you'd better at least feed me first."

"Is that your subtle way of saying you're hungry?"

"No, Bruce. That was me very unsubtly saying I'm starving."

"Right. Dinner."

"Drive, Wayne," you teased, pointing toward the steering wheel. "Or I swear, I'll ditch you for the nearest taco truck."

"Tempting offer," he mused as he shifted the car into gear. "But I had something a little nicer in mind."

"As long as it has fries and something chocolate, I won't be picky."

He nodded. "Fries, chocolate... and anything else you want. Tonight's yours."

You gave him a lazy smile. "Careful. I'll hold you to that."

The following week passed in silence. Not the gentle, comforting kind, but the kind that came before a storm, stretching over your days like a veil. That should have been your first warning.

Your father, without so much as a word of preparation, had flown out of the city on an impromptu vacation. You'd laughed about it on the phone, but you didn't question him. You didn't ask what, exactly, he was vacationing from, simply assuring him that you'd keep everything running in his absence.

Bruce had disappeared too. Vanished into the shadows of whatever double life he lived so deftly. That, you didn't question either. You were used to his absences and loved him despite them.

But this time you had promised yourself it would be different. When he returned, you would confront him. No more pretending not to notice the bruises blooming on his skin like violets in winter. No more silent glances or pretending he was just clumsy. You would ask. Demand. Insist that if he wanted to carry darkness in his marrow, he could at least allow you to help him shoulder the burden. No one should have to endure on their own, least of all him. 

Mercifully, the week was uneventful, allowing you to throw yourself headfirst into work, burying yourself beneath spreadsheets, projections, and meetings that bled into late nights. It was exhausting, yes, but it was yours. This new partnership was more than a win. It was the first real step toward something you had built with your own hands, separate from the empire your family name carried. This startup bore your vision. Your effort. Your name.

It had to succeed.

Then came the end. Or, rather, the beginning of it.

It started with the warrants. Then the headlines, the seizure of your childhood home, and the freezing of accounts. Accusations poured in like stormwater, each one a colder betrayal than the last. Investigations sullied every stitch of your life. Your father's name—once gilded in social circles and whispered with respect—now flashed across every screen, tangled in scandal, corruption, and crime.

The man himself was gone without explanation, and you were left to face it alone. The questions you didn't have the answers to, decisions made without your knowledge, strings pulled behind closed doors while you played puppet in boardrooms now turned battlegrounds. Stocks plummeted. Investors withdrew. The empire teetered.

All the while, you sat in sterile rooms with lawyers and crisis managers, trading sleep for strategy, tears for resolve. You plastered on poise like it was armour, but it cracked in the quiet moments. 

And Bruce Wayne? He had abandoned you too. 

At first, you offered him the benefit of the doubt. Missed calls, unread texts. You told yourself he was somewhere remote and unreachable. Busy. You even whispered forgiveness into the night air, fingers curling around your phone, willing him to call back.

Then came the sightings. He made appearances at galas, the high-rises of Wayne Enterprises, and in glossy society pages, polished as ever. Gotham's prince, untouched by the ruin that had devoured you.

Yet still no call or text. He'd cut you out of his life as easily as removing a puzzle piece that no longer fit.

And God, how you needed someone. Someone who wasn't paid by the hour to listen. Someone who would hold your shaking hands without judgment. Someone who knew the person behind the company. Behind the name. Behind the press statements and tight smiles.

Foolishly, you had once thought that it would be him, but now, with everything crumbling and no one left in the wreckage but you, it seemed even Bruce had abandoned you to the dumpster fire of your life. 

Today had been particularly brutal, another day of chasing explanations in courtrooms, of being expected to defend decisions you hadn't made, of trying to hold together the crumbling legacy that now tasted like rust on your tongue. You'd been forced to put your startup on indefinite pause just to keep your family's empire from imploding in real-time.

And still, you were losing.

A part of you wanted to let it burn. Let the headlines win. Let the stockholders protest.

But you couldn't. You owed it to your heritage. To the people who'd built this long before you.

To your father.

Your father who, despite the horrors unveiled in the past week, had once held your hand and told you the stars would bow to you. That you were his pride and joy. The memory of that version of him still clung to you, and though part of you hated him now—for vanishing without explanation, for forcing you to carry the shame of his choices—you still loved him. Loved him enough to wish for his return. 

The resentment boiled beneath your skin, nonetheless. For all the speeches about sacrifice and honour, he had vanished. Fled the city without a word. Left you to face the vultures and the wolves.

The media painted him a monster. The government labelled him a criminal. And you, his only child, had been left trying to convince yourself that he'd come back. But you feared it too because if he returned, he would be arrested. If he returned, there would be no more ambiguity to shield you. No more room for hope.

You couldn't even return to the one place in the world that had once made you feel safe.

Your childhood home had been stripped from you like everything else. Ousted, cast out by court orders and federal warrants, as agents and investigators swarmed the grounds in search of evidence. Evidence of what, you still weren't even sure. Your manor was no longer yours to enter, and the home you'd grown up in now belonged to suspicion and strangers.

So instead, you found shelter where the flashbulbs couldn't find you.

A run-down motel on the ragged edge of Gotham. Where the carpets smelled like mildew and the windows didn't lock right. Where the wallpaper peeled like old scabs and the silence could be bought by the hour. No one here cared who you were as long as you could pay them, and that anonymity was the closest thing to peace you could find.

You paced the floor in your socks, a worn patch in the carpet bearing witness to your anxiety.

Outside the door, a drunkard was making a commotion and you didn't have the energy to deal with it. Legal jargon. Press releases. Budget deficits. The ever-climbing mountain of debt. You had enough to deal with.

You cracked open another energy drink—your fourth? Fifth? You'd lost count—and downed it with the mechanical rhythm of survival. The empty can hit the trash with a hollow clang, joining its crumpled kin in the overflowing bin. Evidence of all the nights you'd tried to fix what was no longer fixable.

Finally, you collapsed backward onto the narrow bed, letting the stiff mattress and cheap sheets catch you. The springs groaned under your weight, and the ceiling stared down, stained like everything else in your life.

You turned your head to look at the crooked curtain. The window behind it gave a partial view of the street, where headlights passed like ghosts and neon signs flickered like dying stars. Anyone could look in. You knew that. The first-floor room had been a reckless decision, but what did it matter? 

The loneliness returned to coil around your ribs like barbed wire, because you hadn't expected to go through this alone. All you could wish for was that someone—anyone—would tell you what the hell you were supposed to do next.

Bruce Wayne had messed up. He'd messed up big time, and no plan or contingency could protect him from the aftermath of this. Not from the bone-deep ache of knowing he had done the one thing he swore never to do.

He had hurt you. No, worse, he had abandoned you.

The decision to disappear had felt strategic at first, necessary even. A merciful amputation. He had convinced himself that radio silence was a kindness. If he ghosted out of your life completely, then at least you could hate him instead of waiting for him. It was easier. You deserved better. And if he could just stay away, maybe you'd find something like peace again.

But it hurt more than he'd expected it to.

In the bitter hours between midnight and dawn, Bruce sat in the cold of the Batcave, surrounded by monitors and case files and the hum of silence. Your name remained unspoken, but your absence was carved into the air like a phantom. You haunted every inch of him.

In his most delusional moments, he tried to tell himself that you were just a fling. A casual dalliance. A distraction. But the lie always collapsed under the weight of memory.

You weren't some convenient warmth in the dark. You were the kid who used to curl up beside him in the library of Wayne Manor, huddled under the same blanket with a flashlight between you, whispering stories and pretending the world beyond those four walls didn't exist. You were the one who used to help Alfred bake cookies and sneak extras into his coat pockets like a co-conspirator. You were the one who had dragged him out to the gardens to stargaze after his parents' funeral, because you knew he couldn't sleep, and didn't ask why.

Every hallway of his manor remembered you. The way you used to peek around corners before sneaking up behind him. The faded marks on the billiards table from that time you got frustrated and slammed your cue stick in half. The sketch you left framed in the guest room. His home was no longer a home, because you had stopped existing in it. 

He'd tried to remove all the signs of you, but each act of erasure only made your absence more apparent. 

Worst of all was Afred's disapproval. The old butler didn't say anything directly, but the glances lingered longer, the tea was brewed with a touch too much bitterness, and sometimes Bruce would find the framed picture of the two of you—taken at a gala last year—mysteriously returned to the shelf no matter how many times he tucked it away.

Then there were the galas themselves. Pretending. Performing. Wearing the mask of Gotham's untouchable bachelor again.

Every night without you on his arm was agony. The flash of cameras, the flirtations, the empty laughter, it all made his skin crawl. The socialites gathered to him like moths to a flame, and the tabloids declared him single and so very available again.

But the truth was, he hadn't forgotten you.

He made sure every patrol began and ended outside the dingy motel you'd taken refuge in. A place that made his blood boil with its peeling paint and faulty locks and the creaking sign out front that buzzed half-lit neon into the darkness. He was furious with you for choosing a place so unsafe, but he was even more furious with himself for forcing you into it.

You should have been safe in your own home. Or even in his home, if nowhere else. But he had stripped you of everything and offered you nothing in return.

He did what he could anonymously. He paid off the worst of the paparazzi who managed to tail you. Made sure they didn't get too close, didn't publish the more invasive photos, didn't shout cruel questions in your face. He had them warned—some less gently than others.

He arranged for the more dangerous elements around the motel to disappear. Muggers. Stalkers. Dealers. Drunks. The ones who caused noise in the middle of the night. The ones who might scare you. He made sure they never came back.

He made anonymous contributions to your legal team, to fund the best defence lawyers in Gotham. He whispered into the right ears at the right firms to slow the hemorrhaging of your company stock. And when certain contracts came under scrutiny, he pulled strings to have Wayne Enterprises temporarily shoulder some of the burden without naming you directly.

He was helping from the shadows because he couldn't face you. He couldn't stand the thought of looking you in the eyes and seeing disappointment. Or worse—hatred. 

You were the strongest person he knew. You would survive this, but you would not survive him and the ruin that he brought with him everywhere he went. He was poison, and everything he touched eventually soured. 

Your life was already on fire, and he had no idea how to put it out without reducing you to charcoal ruin along with everything else had had ever loved and lost. 

[mirathescientist]

pairings: toxic!Eren x black reader

warnings: toxic & manipulative Eren, smut 18+, mentions of cheating, a lil choking, first time writing in a while so it's a lil shitty, last sentence is a lil dramatic, nd she's not proofread

a/n: y'all, this is unfortunately based on true events૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ꒱ა however writing this did make me realize i need to stand the fuck up, bc there's no reason I'm writing this while he goes to get me some food from one of the girls job…please don't be like me and if you are STAND UP!!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

For as long as you could remember you never understood why women went back to men who cheated. Maybe it was that you grew up seeing the effects cheating had on a family, or that it seemed impossible to be that blinded by love. Whatever it was you vowed to never be one of those women and you stuck with your word all throughout life up until you met Eren.

You heard about him long before you met him. The boy having a reputation for romancing women into his bed only to act as if he didn't know him the next day. You knew about his character when you met him, and believed you knew better than to fall for his tricks.

However, with just one look into those enticing green eyes, you ended up just like every other girl. Clawing at his back while he whispered sweet talk into your ear with every thrust.

You were prepared to never speak to him again. You knew what you had signed up for. Or at least you thought so. Like clockwork every night he'd have you back in his bed, wetting up the sheets as he claimed he could never get enough of you. In the beginning, you assumed he had run out of girls to play, but after the 2nd week, his sweet talking seemed genuine.

That was how you found yourself in a year long relationship with the one and only Eren Yeager. Over the course of 12 months, he showed you he had changed for the better. Or so you thought. It wasn't till you had an unsettling gut feeling one morning that you went through his phone and found the pictures from 4 different girls that you realized it was all a facade.

Like you promised yourself from a young age, you left him. Reasonably, you were angry, but that anger soon decimated and turned into sadness and shame, not from the fact he cheated or that you had just left a long term relationship but because you realized you'd take him back if he asked.

That day you gave your formal apology to all women you deemed stupid for taking their partners back because if given the chance you'd be one of them.

Within a month of ignoring the texts and calls from unsaved numbers and acting as if you weren't home, your strength wavered. Your excuse being that you had clothes from his place that you needed. You knew you should have had a friend come with you, but you felt it was unnecessary.

Unnecessary however wouldn't have you with your legs wrapped around his waist as he stuffed you with the dick that had your fingers itching to text him in the middle of the night.

“I'm sorry, baby. None of them meant anything” He whispered, kissing his way up your collarbone.

Oh, how you so badly wanted to push him off for telling lies, but the way he was buried deep inside your walls had you gasping for air and pulling him closer.

His lips curled into a smirk at the way you responded to him. Though he was unfaithful, he truly did have strong feelings for you. Whether it was true love or lust disguised as love, he would do anything to keep you in his arms.

"You know I love you, right? I'd never intentionally hurt you. It was just...stress and temptation, okay? Those girls meant nothing and could never compare to you.” He pulled back to look at you with the eyes that got you into the mess in the first place. His hips rocked into yours, the head of his dick putting pressure on the spot that made you see stars.

“I know, I love you too, Rennie'' You cried

Any normal person would feel guilty about the way they had you wrapped around their finger. Eren however relished in the way you melted in his arms, the intoxicating bond you shared leaving him to the conclusion that he couldn't live without you.

“Yeah? You gon leave me again?” He quickened the pace of his hips.

You said something incoherently as a strangled moan escaped past your lips, eyes fluttering shut from the intensity of his thrusts.

“Can't hear you, mama. You staying?” His hand leaving the sheets to wrap around your neck. Applying just enough pressure to make your thoughts hazy

“Yes, Ren. I'm staying. M'yours” You choked out, from both the ecstasy he was providing and because you truly did miss him.

“That's my girl” He praised, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His thrust quickening as the sounds of skin slapping echoed through the room.

You could only whine and moan in response, the sounds driving him crazy as you looked into his eyes. Nothing but love and lust swimming through them.

“You so pretty, mama” He mumbled, the hand that was once wrapped around your neck coming down to rub small rapid circles on your clit.

“Rennie” You cried, toes curling as you arched off the bed. Stray tears falling from the corners of your eyes at the combined pleasure

“Yeah, I know baby” He captured his lip in between his teeth as he felt your walls suck him in.

The pleasure was unbearable. The coil snapping as your orgasm left your legs shaking and eyes rolling.

Eren soon followed after, finding the way you gravitated to him and the sounds that left your swollen lips so salacious he buried himself inside you, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim as he lazily rocked his hips into yours and whispered fake promises into your ear.

Tiredness immediately took over you as he pulled out. Leaving no time for regret to seep in over the fact you had just cursed your future by allowing him to once again enter your life.

oh nd im backk໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[olivialivvy17]

Racing to the beat - Daniel Ricciardo

summary: Daniel gets a new teammate in VCRB, a F2 female championship winner for the 2025 season. What he didn't expect was her to be extremely genz and a kpop fan.

pairing: fem rookie driver!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

AU: Social media!AU and Written!AU

warnings: mentions of anxiety, swearing, use of yn, hate comments, reader is 25.

face claim: Amna Al Qubaisi for professional f1 photos, the rest are from pinterest.

wc: 617

a/n: hii guyss, sorry for a late update. haven't been really inspired to write. I hope you enjoy this part, I'm not the best at writting but I'm trying my best fr. okay love you lots <333

part two <prev. next.>

ynusername posted a story

second story

user8 oh to be rich😔

charles_leclerc you know who to call for a tour

ynusername made a post

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and others

ynusername Alex my favorite tour guide (ily mwah) ❤️

view all comments

user9 oh how I love women

user10 a duo we needed so bad😩

alexandrasaintmleux I had a blast! can't wait to see you again 🫶🏻

ynusername love you gf <3

user11 hello my clothes were just on 😔

lilymhe we need to meet up soon!

ynusername omg Lilly, omg omg. yes, yes we have to. omg you're so pretty🫶🏻

lilymhe you're so pretty too! and like such a good driver! ❤️

ynusername ❤️❤️ im freaking out rn❤️❤️

user2 Yn is so real for this😭😭

user1 let's hope they don't media train her 🙏🏻 liked by ynusername

charles_leclerc turns out we won't be only competing for that championship

ynusername I fear Alex is my gf now (I'm joking media manager)

danielricciardo going out with Alexandra before me? I might be heartbroken💔

ynusername noooooooo I promise we'll hang out before the first race, I just need to settle in Monaco rn

danielricciardo I'm holding you to that mate

ynusername yes sir🫡

user8 I might have a new favorite duo

ynusername posted a story

user12 you ARE in fact on my rob list

user13 we need an album collection asap girl

olliebearman I miss listening to your broken Korean singing 😭

danielricciardo that Seventeen group has some good songs

ynusername see I told you! I'm glad you're liking my recommendations

second story

visacashapprb boss said we might need to start media training you

ynusername nooo boss i promise I'll behave. I promise🙏🏻

user14 so real diva

user15 HAHAHAHA I LOVE YOU ALREADY

bestfriend I love my strong woman🤤

ynusername all for you wife 🤞🏻

16.03.2025. Australia, Melbourne

“Get your shit together” you said to yourself in the mirror. Standing in the RB  garage bathroom, gripping the sink with all your strength while trying to tame the boiling anxiety coursing through your body. It's officially the first race day and all the fears and doubts came crashing down on you. It’s normal to be nervous on the first day, you said to yourself, but is it normal to be physically nauseous? Probably not, but here we are. “You can do this Yn, you know what you're capable of” you keep repeating out loud like a mantra, hoping it will stop the burning and sinking feeling in your stomach.

A voice calling out your name snapped you out of the spiraling daze. “Are you in there?” said a voice you recognize as your race engineer. “Yeah, give me a second i'll be out” you shout from the other side of the door. Receiving a ‘Okay’ from them as you turn on the faucet and put your clammy hands under the cold water. Urgently splashing your face, hoping to bring you out the anxiety induced haze. Straightening up, you dab the moisture off your face and discard the paper towel. Fixing your tied back hair and the race suit that's zipped up to your hips. With a more of a shaky chuckle, you flash thumbs up to yourself in the mirror and whisper “You got this girl” before unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out to the bustling and roaring garage.

Walking back to your side of the garage, you spot Daniel speaking to one of your engineers. “There you are” spoke the familiar Aussie accent as you two made eye contact, seeing his infectious smile only made the corner of your lips twitch upwards. “How are you feeling, everything okay?” said Daniel as you approached the screens where he's standing. With a nervous chuckle, you spoke “Honestly, anxiety is gnawing at my insides, but I've pep talked myself in the mirror so hopefully I won't spiral completely” as you shifted your gaze from the screen to him. The Aussie had a soft and understanding expression on his face as he reassured you in a comforting tone “You're gonna be just fine, trust me” as he placed his hand on your shoulder “I know how you feel and that's completely valid. Nerves mean you care—use them. Trust your prep, feel the car, and have fun. The first race is unforgettable. You’ve got this, you're a good driver and you know it.”. The way his tone was sincere and caring and that warm smile and the grounding hand on your shoulder made the burning pit in your stomach slightly fade away. With more confidence in your stance, and that smile finally appearing on your face, you thanked him “Thank you for saying that, you don't how much it means to me. I promise to give it my best and not let the fear swallow me whole,” you end the sentence with a soft chuckle. With a chuckle of his own, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as he pulled you in a reassuring and warm embrace, patting your back gently. Your hands instinctively found their way onto his upper back, mimicking his patting motion.

visacashapprb made a post

liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and others

visacashapprb First race of the season comes to an end! Ricciardo P6, Yn/Ln P8. What a duo!

view all comments

user16 YN IS WHAT PLACE ?

user2 ATEEEEEEEEE🙂‍↕️

ynusername i totally wasn't singing that one song by 2ne1 (iykyk)

user17 rb better upgrade that car, cuz my girl can place so much higher

user18 for a rookie, she's good

f1 Yn slayed on that track!

user7 not admin trying to use slang😭

danielricciardo Amazing first race Yn!

ynusername couldn't do it without my great teammate🥹

[animemakesmeanxiouss]

It's okay, there are a lot of people to save right now. He'll get to you, you thought to yourself, as you tightened your hold on the railing of the now-destroyed balcony you were just barely hanging on to.

Katsuki was fighting one the villains with his blasts while Gale Force was saving people who had been hurt or stuck by the villains attack.

Your arms were in so much pain, but you had no way to propel your lower half up to try and leverage yourself into a more stable position so you were using all of your upper body strength to keep yourself wrapped around until he could get to you.

Soon the screams and cries around you dwindled, signifying their removal from any danger, leaving only you, thankfully. You waited and waited, but still no savior came. Then, your arms went numb.

No no no, this cannot be happening right now.

You could feel your grip starting to loosen up and you slipped, just by a couple of centimeters, but you wouldn't be able to hold yourself up much longer. You were solely focused on holding on, but it was getting so difficult. You closed your eyes and tried to tighten your grip as best you could, but the lack of feeling was making things a thousand times more difficult. It was either hold on or die.

Let go said an inner voice. You shook your head furiously with your eyes closed.

"Let go," the voice said again, "I've got you now, doll"

Oh, so it wasn't an inner voice.

You opened your eyes to see Katsuki pulling you into his own arms, making you gladly let go of your railing and hold onto him for dear life.

Your entire body was trembling. From the fear, the adrenaline, or potential nerve damage, you didn't know. You looked up at your savior, and your lover, to see his jaw was clenched tighter than usual as you guys were on your way to the medical tent.

Oh god, he's mad at you

"I-I'm sorry, Kats-"

"Don't apologize, you've done nothing wrong." He cuts you off, but still clearly angry. You rested your head on his chest for the rest of the way, and when he set you down on the ground, he grabbed your arms to inspect them.

"You're going to have insane amounts of bruising from having to hold on so tightly for so long, " he spoke through gritted teeth, before waving a medic over to evaluate you further.

Once they gave him the okay that the bruising would be the worst of the damage, he took you back into him arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently. More gently than you've ever heard him speak before.

You nodded, just as gently, feeling his gloved hand caress your cheek and wiping away tears that you didn't even realize had been running down your face the entire time.

Suddenly, he turned around and stomped his way over to Gale Force, who was just about to give him a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well-done, when Katsuki wound back his fist and punched him so hard, you'd think he'd been launched by a catapult with how far back he flew.

Everyone around was shocked by the punch, but some around looked like they understood why it happened. Meanwhile, you were just watching the scene before you unfold with nothing but utter confusion.

"Next time make sure everyone has been saved before you stand on the sidelines, flexing for girls," Katsuki screamed at him, while pointing towards you. His voice filled with more than just his usual anger, but also the fear and worry he had felt about possibly losing you.

It was then you understood, that while you knew their roles were Katsuki battled and Gale Force rescued, the wind rescuer neglected to do his. That's why Katsuki was so angry. Why his jaw was clenched after he got to you. You'd been abandoned by his mission partner.

Gale Force looked over at you and stuttered out a poor excuse for an apology, but you didn't care. You just wanted Katsuki to hold you and go home, which he surprisingly did.

"Don't you have to do paper-paperwork on this before you can go ho-home?" you asked, still struggling with your speech as you try to process the nerves now that you're safe.

"That fucker can deal with it, if he knows what's good for him," he grumbled, as he flew you back home to the cozy apartment you shared.

You were still trembling when you arrived, and he didn't dare put you down until you were both inside with the door locked and he lovingly placed you on the big cloud couch in your living room before turning on the TV and passing you the remote before making his way to the kitchen. The angry clanking sounds coming from that direction had you more preoccupied than whatever was showing on the big screen until you heard his name.

Uh-oh! Looks like there's trouble in paradise between Pro Heros: Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight and Gale Force, as they worked together on today's big take down/rescue mission as villains attacked several buildings in the downtown area. While Dynamight had taken on the role of battling and capturing the villains, Gale Force used his winds to propel himself rapidly between crumbling buildings and catch those innocents affected by the villainous destruction!

Katsuki appeared behind you and placed a plate on your lap, consisting of cut-up apples and pears as well as a simple ham and cheese sandwich. You shakily brought an apple slice to your mouth and he sat beside you as the newsanchor continued.

However, it seems that Gale Force's radar may have been a bit...defective as there was still one person left hanging, quite literally! Luckily for her, Dynamight was able to quickly assess the situation with the utmost precision and got to her before her poor limbs gave out. Here is a video of the immediate after effects of the rescue:

*The video shows you and Katsuki from a few feet away, Katsuki checking your arms, calling the medic over while Gale Force is laughing with a group of girls about who-knows-what. It was odd seeing it from a third-person point-of-view. Then, without realizing the camera was there, Katsuki sent the guy flying, screaming the same words you had witnessed before*

What do you think, folks? Was Dynamight in the right here? Do you think Gale Force deserved that mean hook on behalf of this young lady-oh, wait a moment! I'm being given some additional information. It seems that the young lady who was rescued by Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight was none other than his lover! Oh man, I definitely wouldn't want to be on the other end of that punch with that being the case.

"Bastard's lucky I didn't blow him to pieces," he muttered as he grabbed another apple slice from your plate before his phone rang, startling you both.

"Dynamight," he answered and you heard a familiar voice on the other side.

Hawks

He got up and went back to the kitchen, probably to discuss the issue privately

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't lose my cool on television if that fucking airbender wasn't such a goddamn liability. He's getting sloppy, Hawks, we all know this and today it almost cost me the love of my life. Something has to be done"

It made your already-racing heart flutter even more to hear him call you that. It wasn't like you didn't already know, but he doesn't express it verbally very often. His love language was more acts of service and physical affection and while you wouldn't change the for the world, hearing him talk to someone about his love for you was mind-blowing.

You turned back to the screen to see he had changed the channel before he left to one of your favorites, the cartoon channel, which he thought was super corny but humored you anyway.

After about 20 minutes, he came back and sat beside you once again, this time resting his hand on your thigh where the plate used to be. It now sat on the coffee table in front of you where he reached for the last apple slice you left him, he looked over at your arms, seeing the bruises already forming.

"Are you in any pain?"

You shook your head. You just felt some soreness, nothing crazy, and you didn't want to worry him any more than he already was. It would probably feel worse later but some ice on it should be fine if it even got to that point.

What you wanted more than anything was to lie down, so that's exactly what you did. You rested your head on his lap and he caressed your hair as you both sat in silence, watching the little animated animals on the tv sing and dance their little hearts out until you fell asleep.

After several hours, you awoke with a jump. Something was...wrong. You felt like you were on fire. More specifically, your arms felt like they were igniting from the inside. You didn't know what time it was or how Katsuki ended up lying down with you without waking you, but you couldn't think of it for long because of the awful burning. You wiggled out of his arms and rushed to the bathroom to try and run some cold water over your arms to help the feeling but it wouldn't stop. You were trying to even your breathing and as your eyes adjusted to the light, you analyzed your arms to see they bruising had become pitch black, reflecting the amount of strength it had taken you to hold yourself up for as long as you did.

The cold water wasn't helping and the fear wasn't making the pain any better. You tried not to break down in tears but god, it was so painful. The most painful thing you've ever felt. You closed your eyes for just a moment while you tried to think of what else you could do, when you heard the faucet turn off and felt strong arms grab yours firmly, but gently. You opened your tear-filled eyes and saw Katsuki's focused ones on your arms, gently tracing them before seeing his hands begin to glow.

Heat, you realized and your eyes widened in fear as you pulled away.

"Hey," he said gently as we grabbed your chin to look at him, "I'm not gonna hurt you. The heat will relax your muscles and ease the pain, I promise."

You stared into his eyes for any sense of deceit, or doubt, and could find none so you just nodded. Anything for some relief.

Again, his hands began to glow as he grabbed yours and began to massage them gently. At first, the pressure did cause a bit of stinging but then the fire started to settle. He used his thumbs to massage circles up and down your forearms where it was at its worst, and you could feel the tension lessen.

You didn't realize you had been holding your breath until you let out a shakey one and then burst out sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and held you until you had no more left to cry, from the pain, from the fear of everything that happened today, from the thought that you would never see him again.

He then picked you up and took you to the bedroom and layed with you, continuing to massage your arms until you both fell asleep.

"I'll always take care of you," he whispered as your minded faded to dreams.

And he did, the entire rest of the week, he stayed home massaging your arms, feeding you, helping you bathe, doing everything for you until you were recovered enough that you were practically pushing him out the door and be the hero he is to people besides you.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Hellooo, I've been live laugh loving your writing, so I decided to make a request.

Could I request a paul lahote x reader where the reader is dealing with a stalker but decides not to tell him about it because she doesn't want to worry him. But eventually, he notices that she's been really freaked out and paranoid so he confronts her about it and she breaks down and tells him so he and the rest of the pack helped her deal with the stalker.

(if your request aren't open, just ignore their same if you just don't feel like writing this)

English isn't my first language, so sorry about any spelling mistakes

Sorry, not sorry

Going out with Kim was a great idea! Until he found you. Who is he? You see him in the distance everywhere you go. You're getting random texts. You're too scared to tell Paul. What will happen? You don't know if he's human or not! Most likely, he is. The way he texts is too human-like.

"Babe." Paul snaps you out of your thoughts. "Hm?" You look up at him. You are sitting at the dinner table at Sam and Emily's. "I asked if you want me to make you a plate." He raises an eyebrow and then grabs your upper arm. "Is everything okay?" He leans down and whispers. You nod and smile at him. You feel terrible for lying.

Jared and Embry are side eyeing you guys. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You hesitate but pull it out and turn on the screen.

Unknown: the rez is beautiful! But not as beautiful as you. What does Paul or fuck boy call you? 'Babygirl' right? Haha.

You physically cringe but start to breathe heavy and look around, just moving your eyes. They are slightly wide.

Unknown: your eyes past me up, babygirl. Look again.

You look around again and begin to panic. Everyone in the pack at the table notices. "Y-you okay?" Quil asks. Jacob touches your arm. Paul and Emily in the kitchen making plates turn to you. "I'm okay." Your eyes wander again. Behind a tree, a tall figure stands there. You gasp and jump out of the chair. Paul rushes beside you, pulling you into him. "You're gonna talk to me. Now!" He demands. The pack stands up and rushes at the door, looking around outside. You start to cry against his chest and then lift your face up. "Remember when me and Kim had that girls' night?" He nods and glares his eyes. His jaw tenses. "Ever since then, there's been this stalker. I have no idea who he is. He gets closer and closer day by day. I saw him in the trees!" You yelled to the pack who are surrounded at the door. They quickly run outside. Paul starts fuming. If wolves started burning up smoke in anger, he would have been. Sam grabs Paul's shoulder. "We don't know If he's human or not. We can't phase in front of him. We just use our strength against him. Calm." He gently speaks to Paul.

He shoves Sam's hand off of his shoulder and runs outside. Sam follows him, and Emily grabs your arms. "I think we should call Charlie Swan." She suggests. "If the boys can't find him, we should." You nod your head.

You start to hear noises, which makes you jump up and run to the window. Jacob is holding his arms back, and Paul is screaming at him, punching him over and over. His face is bloody. Paul lifts his arm back, making a fist. His muscles flex back. His toned arms became more prominent. He swings again. You can't help but smile at your family and soulmate. You just know you are safe.

Soon, the pack comes back inside. You stand in behind where Paul takes his seat. Paul has a satisfied look on his face as he turns to face you. "Sorry." He smirks and then turns back around, mumbling, "Not sorry."

After all of that, you and Paul go home. He sighs and sits on the bed. You sit at your vanity, taking off your jewelry, pulling down your hair, and getting ready for a shower.

"You know, it pisses me off. You didn't tell me two weeks ago. You have to be honest with me." He speaks. Your heart breaks, and you look down, still at your vanity. "I know. I feel awful. I just - I didn't know what to do. This has never happened to me before." You turn around and face him. Your eyes get watery. "I was scared to worry you. I didn't think it'd get this bad." You watch his face. He still seems mad. He stands up and hovers over you. "Part of being soulmates is being honest, baby girl." You cower a little bit, but know he's not going to raise his voice or hurt you. "I'm so sorry. I'll do better." You sniffle. He sighs and pulls your head into his stomach, and strokes your hair. "It's okay. I love you." He kisses the top of your head. "I love you, too." You smile against him. You pull away and look up at him. "I need to shower." He smiles at you and then lifts you up to your feet. "Can I join you?" He smirks. You roll his eyes and kiss his lips softly. "I guess." You mumble while giggling.

[avaawritess]

Style by Taylor swift

Nanami x reader

Exes to lovers😼

Warnings! Mentions. Smut,rough sex, hair pulling,overstimulation, degrading/praise

------------------------------------------------

When you and Nanami dated it was way back, and let's just say he was way more relaxed with you. He never took any precautions with you. Not even fixing his headlights to pick you up when you snuck out to be with him at midnight . He went against all his morals for you.

He risked everything to be with you.

Well that was when you were dating him. After high school all he cared about was money,money,money. Giving you up was probably the worst choice he's ever made and he knew it was. His pride got in the way and just ruined everything.

Now you finally were face to face with him at a random bakery. Him getting his usual ham and cheese sandwich...he's never changed has he?

You wanted to smile so bad but your guard wouldn't let you. The wall around your heart wouldn't crumble because of how he left you. He broke your heart and stomped on it multiple times leaving you in an ugly sobbing mess. Sweet salty tears dripping down your face. Your nose running as you tried so hard to make it stop, your body shaking unable to muster the strength to walk away after such heartbreak.

He didn't deserve to stand in front of you. He knew it yet he couldn't move. "Y/n" he spoke softly his hands that were usually hurled into fist suddenly relaxed as the sandwich dropped onto the floor. He couldn't stop thinking of you.

"Nanami,it's been a while since I have even heard from you" you say back. You know you should've told him to leave. You knew exactly where this would leave.

He always was your sore spot no matter what you couldn't guard your heart very long.

"I heard you've been out and about with some other girl" you say scoffing hand in your hip. You didn't mean to sound jealous but you knew deep inside you were because why wasn't it you?

"What you heard is true but I can't stop thinking bout you and I...I had to break up with her" he says looking away his ears tinted pink his face stoic.

You had flashbacks. When he had that James Dean daydream look in his eye and you wore that red lip classic thing that he liked.

Back in high school you both have arguments over the future of the both of you, yet you couldn't stop from being with one another. Even though you two went crashing down, you'd come back everytime.

Now he wasn't so sure that was the case.

His lip trembled,"can we please talk, you don't have to say anything just...just let me speak...please I'll give you my.." he picked up his sand which cursing under his breath.

"I'll buy you ice cream...like we used to please y/n...let's just talk" he said desperately closing the distance between the both of you.

You grumble under your breath wanting to keep your guard up but it's impossible with him.

"Fine, Nanami you have...fifteen minutes only because it's quite a walk from here to there" you says.

He swore his heart started thumping against his chest. He knew he'd try whatever he could to get you back.

------------------------------------------------

You walked in tense silence all the way to the ice cream truck.

You both got your ice cream and sat down in a tense yet comfortable silence. "Y/n,im sorry...dearly I...I know I messed up I was a stupid man" he says almost like his life depended on it and Nanami was never the one to beg.

"Shit, I was most fucking idiotic man to walk this earth the way I gave you up" he says looking at you with the most regretful desirable eyes. The eyes that could make you unravel with just a teasing glance the ones that made your heart soften just enough to let him in.

"Won't I just hold you back again? What happened to money huh?" You ask still bitter and hurt.

"God no....those were foolish words that came from my mouth, the heart wants what it wants but I couldn't stop my brain from talking and I'm just so, so sorry I want you back." He says desperately

"All of you, your smile, those crinkle in your eyes when I used to make you laugh, even that mischievous grin you'd get plotting to scare me, which it never worked obviously-...please" he says pleadingly.

So maybe you forgave him..forgiving your true love never hurt anybody right?

------------------------------------------------

That's what you'd like to say especially with the way your hands entangled in his blonde hair, god you missed this.

His desperate tounge lapping all of your juices as breathy moans left your mouth.it was sinful the way you two moved in sync how he knew just when you were on the edge just to pull away to hear your whines. Just to feels the way your weak legs tried so hard to pull his head back, Oh how he missed you.

He grunts as his tounge laps up the remaining of your juices. The way you tasted? Delicious. They way your moans were the most beautiful sounds to bless his ears? Immaculate 10/10 would recommend.

He missed this the feeling of your overstimulated cunt twitching in his mouth as he grinned. He pulled back,"your such a good girl for taking that, now let's see what else you can take"

He flipped you over and before you could relax you felt his tip lubricate from your wetness. He grabbed a fistful of your hair pulling you head back so he can nip the skin of your neck as he teases your greedy cunt.

"Fuck look at that all wet for me? Damn you know how to invite a dude...or is just me huh? You missed me haven't you" he grins against your skin as you whimper.

"Now let's stay silent can't have the whole hotel knowing your getting pounded by me can we now?" He says huskily chuckling as he let go of your hair his hands steady on your hips.

They could leave a bruise print with the amount of force he was using. He slowly pushed himself in as the most guttural groan leaves his mouth, his head tilting back. "Fuck your fucking perfect" he says slowly going back leaving the tip in before slamming his tip in.

You left loud moans and he sneers,"you know I hate it when you cant listen right?" He groans before sticking two fingers in your mouth holding your head up with his hand as you started drooling.

"Such a messy girl" he grins enjoying the mess he made of you. It wasn't before longe before his thrust became sloppy and he pulled out cumming all over your back. Whispering soft praises in your ear like he wasn't just degrading you minutes before.

You lay tiredly, as he hums ,"come on baby let's get you cleaned up" he says. Picking you up both of your sweaty bodies up against one another. And that's just what he does as he sat in the bath with you massaging your sore muscles while making sure to properly wash your body and wash your hair. He kisses your neck with a tenderness,"I didn't just miss you sexually I missed you and I don't plan letting you leave ever again." And he stayed true to his words.

Years later you got married. So what if he didn't deserve your forgiveness?

You just couldn't seem to stay away from him.

And not to be cheesy but you two never went out of style.

------------------------------------------------

Authors note.

So I hope you enjoyed this, this is my first time writing Nanami along with my second smut in it 😖.

I feel like a nasty animal buts it's okay.

[creamecafe]

A Chance to Stay Goodbye | Joaquin Torres

Summary: Y/N and Joaquin get into a serious argument after Joaquin got injured badly trying to stop the Flag-Smashers.

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, fighting, eventual fluff at end, swearing, injuries

Word Count: 1325+

Author's Note: One of my works that I started when I was around 14 years old but never got to post.

Feedback is much appreciated!

Read on Wattpad and AO3 here!

It had been a fine, regular day. You were at home while your boyfriend Joaquin was in Switzerland.

You worried about him constantly if he was ok, if he was injured. But most importantly, is he alive? You try to brush off the thought as you were trying to keep the house clean. Dating Joaquin is both amazing but it can also come with it's challenges.

He can be a bit stubborn at times and gets himself into danger, even though he's a Air Force lieutenant and he chose this job because he wanted to protect people.

You appreciated that part about him. He wanted to help other people. He didn't have superpowers or super human strength, but it's the most he can do such as protecting his country. But with so many people he helps, you wonder, if one day, he'll be able to save himself.

All of the pondering and thinking got interrupted, when you suddenly got a call from a unknown number. You picked it up.

'Hello?"

"Hello, am I speaking with Y/N L/N?"

"Depends on who's asking"

"This is the Switzerland hospital, we're here with Joaquin Torres."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh no...what happened? Is everything alright with him?"

"Yes and no. He was beaten up by a terrorist group that is wanted called the "Flag-Smashers". He tried to stop them but he got punched multiple times and had a hard time breathing due to how hard they threw him on the ground."

The tears in your eyes were starting to form already. Your worst nightmare has finally become reality.

"Oh my God. I can't believe it. What is the state he's in now?"

"Right now he can walk fine but the bruises on his face can take time to heal."

"Is the group found? Did anyone see their faces?"

"At the moment no, but we'll update you with information about the group. We're setting up transportation for Joaquin Torres to return due to his condition."

"He'll return where?"

"He'll return to [the house you live in]. We'll drop him off at the airport."

"Ok what time would I expect to pick him up?"

"In about 3 hours if that's ok with you miss."

"Yes it's alright with me."

"Ok, again I'm sorry about the condition of Joaquin ma'am. We might have to call him for questioning about what he saw that night but other than that we want to make sure he's doing well."

"Thank you, very much. I appreciate it, a lot."

"You have a good day miss."

"You too thank you."

You hung up the phone, slowly put the phone on the counter and just took a deep breath. The thought of Joaquin being hurt was too much. What if it had been worse? What if he had been killed?

You try to relax as you have to pick up Joaquin from the airport in 2 ½ hours. You went to the bathroom to take a shower and after take a nap. An alarm was set in your phone to let you know when it's time to pick up your boyfriend.

An hour ½ passed and your alarm rang. You went to get ready and drove to the airport 15 minutes away from your home. You waited in front of the area, trying to see Joaquin. Luckily (not really) the bruises on his face made him stand out in which it made him easy to spot.

He sees your car and smiles, but he can only smile small and not a huge one as he always does when sees you due to the pain that happens. He goes up to the passenger side and opens the car. He gets inside and puts his bag in the back.

"Hi baby." He smiles again leaning in for a kiss.

"Hi" You said not leaning in back with a cold stare

It doesn't take long for Joaquin to know that you are upset, besides the fact you guys have been dating since before the blip.

The ride home was a painfully silent ride. You didn't want it to be one, but you felt like you had to make it clear you weren't happy with the choice Joaquin made confronting those terrorists by themselves, especially without backup or Sam there with him.

Soon enough you guys made it home. You went inside, not waiting for Joaquin, while he was getting his bag from the back of your car. You guys went inside of your home and still no conservation.

"Baby I'm going to take a shower and maybe we can watch a movie together? I'll make the popcorn and you choose the movie tonight." Joaquin heads up to the stairs.

"A movie night? Seriously, after what happened, you want to do a movie night? We're not going to address the elephant in the room?"

His back was facing you but he sighed knowing this wouldn't be easy to drop. He turned to you

"What you did that night was probably the most idiotic, mindless, stupid shit you could have done, that I know of."

"I know that-"

"You couldn't wait for backup or Sam to be there? You just wanted to be the hero in the situation, instead you became a victim and got attacked. You're no stronger or bigger than the Avengers, you could die Joaquin."

"Babe, please you have nothing worry about, it's alright."

"Alright? Alright? You think putting yourself in danger and making me so worried every night that you may not come home is alright to me?"

Joaquin looks down.

"Do you think I like having the thought that I might have to bury my boyfriend one day? Or I get a knock on the door, hearing the news that you died during a mission or I get a call? Your voice starts to break.

"Baby, Y/N," Joaquin comes closer

"I'm sorry. It's just," You swallow trying to hold back tears.

"You know everything that has happened these past 6 years, it's just that if something happens to you, I don't even get a chance to say goodbye or I love you for the last time. That's what I'm afraid of."

Joaquin walks up to you, taking in his arms and just holds you. He sways just like a mother would do for their child in a crib so they they can calm down.

Your tears and running nose stains his sweater, but he doesn't care about that right now. All he cares about is how your feeling. He plants a sweet, tender kiss to the top of your head. He then pulls back and you both look at each other. He smiles, while your tears were visible to the fact it was rolling down your face.

"I promise nothing will happen to me. And I'm sorry to make you worried, truly I am."

You smile realizing you can't be mad at him any more longer. All you can do is be grateful is that he's here in this moment with you, holding you. You cup his bruised face, he winces a bit but doesn't back away.

You kiss him passionately. He does the same back. He cups your face with one hand and holds your waist. You both pull apart to take some air. You can't help but laugh with the tears rolling down your face.

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Joaquin."

"About that movie night?"

"Ok we can do it. But I'm picking the movie."

"Fine with me, I do the popcorn."

You both smile and the rest of the night you cuddle together soundly watching [your favourite movie inserted].

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to heart, reblog, share, comment what you think, and follow for more works! You can also find me on Wattpad and my other socials in my bio. Feedback is always much appreciated!

Have a great day/night or wherever you live around the world!

[t-a-a-1]

The Darkest Hour

Ch.4: Guardian

Summary: After being labeled as crazy for trying to report that robot aliens exist on national television, you lose your job and move to Jasper City. In a drastic turn of fate, you meet Optimus Prime. You and Team Prime get together to find ancient relics that are vital to the Autobot's cause.

Along the way, you and Optimus start to develop feelings that go beyond comradeship.

But what happens when he discovers you've been lying all of this time?

For a better reading experience you can read this story on Ao3:

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/157365316

Ch.4: Guardians

     It was rather quiet at the base. Ratchet sometimes would look at the hangar's elevated floor. He thought he would see you there. He didn't find you as annoying as other humans. You were rather curious. Asking about all things Cybertronian. It was like talking to a child sometimes but he didn't mind explaining especially when you had questions about Cybertronian biology.

    He didn't want to admit it but he-

Beep. Beep.

"Oh? I got a video from (Y/n)!"

    Ratchet hears Jack exclaim from the sofa and this immediately gets his attention.

"I don't have enough time. I have been abducted by Decepticons. I'll lead them to the relic located in Fingal's Cave, Northern Ireland two days from now. Retrieve my cell phone from my house. I am sorry."

.

.

.

    You didn't have time.

You rapidly click 'sent' before breaking your laptop in half. You know they were coming for you and as soon as you heard the doors open, you quickly grabbed one cigarette.

    Two Decepticons dragged you across the Nemesis. You couldn't walk a lot, probably due to a broken bone or something else.

    It took about three minutes to reach another door. Everything looked the same except for a few purple colors and other doors that had guards.

    One of the doors opened and the two Decepticons pushed you inside, making fall to the floor.

"What is our status with the machine?"

"We still need to make modifications. The human mind is different from that of a Cybertronian," Knockout tried his best to figure out a way to make his machinery work. "Getting into her memories will be difficult without the proper materials."

"Then I trust that you will be making progress soon, Knockout."

    The lights in the room blinded you.  Not because they were too bright but due that you were deprived of light for two days.

    Two Decepticons carried you by the arms, you were too weak to walk, your stomach hurts, your head too and your energy was low.

"Prisoner was seen scavenging on the vault."

"I was looking for food!" you muster all the strength you had to defend yourself. "I've been here for two days and haven't eaten a thing."

"Wasn't the Energon cup I left on your cell enough?"

    The Decepticon was an automobile that you found a bit strange but you didn't have the right mind to question it. Things were just the way they were.

"Humans don't eat Energon, I'll die! Shouldn't you be smart enough to know that?"

    A taller figure walks in front of you. His steps made the entire floor move but you had gotten used to the feeling of it. He studies you, walks around you and his optics pierce through your soul.

"The fact that you are still standing after yesterday's event is admirable. I wouldn't expect anything less from Optimus' pet."

    You didn't like the sound of that but you were too tired to fight it. Your body is in pain from all the bruises and maybe a few other injuries. They had beat you up after you refused to speak. It wasn't for a long time, Megatron seemed to know that you would be a difficult one.

"What were you looking for in the vault?"

    Megatron asks and you don't say a word. You look away.

"I won't ask again," he gets closer to your face. So close that you could see his optics and the mechanics behind it. There wasn't a single thing that didn't move as small as it seemed. Everything had a function and it fascinated you. "What were you looking for in the vault? Was it your bag? Anything of importance in there?"

    You took a few seconds to respond and you raised a hand. You slowly opened it, putting one cigarette in front of his face.

"What is this ... artifact?"

    Megatron takes the cigarette in his hand, inspecting it.

"I was looking for my bag ... because I wanted that. It makes me less hungry."

    The Decepticon leader drops the cigarette on the floor and steps on it. Crushing your hopes.

"Pain may not be enough to make you speak," Megatron keeps looking at you and as much as you would like to keep the eye-staring contest, you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"But let's wait and see how you react after hunger takes over you."

"I won't talk."

    It hurts to even do so.

"Oh, but all of this would be so much easier if you did," he turns around and walks towards a berth. One that is not completely functional. At least it doesn't work with humans. Yet. "Regardless, we'll get what we want. Talk or do not talk, the choice is yours."

...

    It has been a couple of days since you had left the base. It has been quiet around here without you. The kids can be a bit nosey but nothing the Autobots couldn't handle.

    Optimus wonders what you would do if you were here. Would you be on your laptop? Maybe have a conversation with him? If you wanted, he could talk to you for hours, giving you information about Cybertronian culture. In exchange, he could ask you about human traditions. After the talk you two had about the human process of creating life, he was particularly curious about the human body.

    He had just come back from patrol duty with Bumblebee when he heard a lot of talking between his Autobot friends.

"Optimus!"

    Ratchet's preoccupied voice was something he wasn't fond of. It could mean two things. One, someone had messed up with one of his experiments. Two, bad news.

"(Y/N) has been captured by the Decepticons!"

Or three. Horrible news.

....

Bombs. Guns. Granades.

Screams. Fire. Blood. Pain. 

    When you were told that you were going to report on the war in a faraway land, you were excited. This was going to be your big step. The thing that will mark your career forever.

And it did mark you. Forever. But in ways you thought unimaginable.

It wasn't until you saw men, women and children being killed that you truly realized how stupid the world really is. It's a war and no one ever wins. So why? Why?

"Will I ever stop ... being so useless?"

    Another day of not eating.

You didn't know when you were going to start to hallucinate. Maybe you already were. You wished you could smell the outside air. You had not realized how different the air is when the majority of living creatures occupying the area are alien robots. It's a different type of smell. Clean and sanitized, kinda like the smell of a hospital but with a more metal element to it.

    The doors from your prison cell open. You are thankful because you hated the dark. Not really a phobia but many thoughts cross your mind when there is no light around you.

    Megatron slowly makes his way towards you.

He is not that intimidating. Are you afraid? Yes, of course. But if you had to compare, Optimus had a more menacing frame. Although Megatron's eyes could frighten anyone, the way he moves and presents himself does not imply any harm. You won't underestimate him. Not a bit.

"I won't say a word."   

    You say as you look at him. You sat in a corner, nothing was tying you down. Not like it matters, it's not like you could do much against giant robots.

"I did not come here for that," his voice is way less intimidating. In different circumstances, Optimus could very well have been the villain. "I have come for a small conversation."

"If you think you can manipulate me into talking-"

"I would rather like to call it ... convincing you with words."

    You knew this was going to be an interesting conversation.

"Words are powerful."

    You say as he stands in front of you. You don't stand up, having a nice view of his posture. You can tell so much by the way someone moves.

"Agreed."

    You wait for a few seconds, keeping eye contact. The room didn't look so dark now as Megatron had this purple aura that surrounded him.

    You didn't know what he wanted but you were waiting for him to speak. But he was also studying you, trying to find the best way to talk to you.

"Eons ago, I was a young gladiator trying to survive."

    Out of everything, you didn't imagine Megatron to be a storyteller. Oh, but how much you loved a good tale. Especially the ones about myths and legends of great warriors doing the impossible. Even if it's a story about a bot becoming a destroyer of worlds.

"Every day, as I exited the pit after killing comrades, I would watch the upper classes cheer for me."

    He seems to remember the cheers, the chanting crowds. But his optics had changed, for a second, he was lost. Going back to those moments. There is some fear in them and you didn't know if he was being honest or it's another manipulation tactic.

"But what was there to cheer for? I had massacred Cybertronians. Someone like me and them."

    You didn't doubt his words. At least there is some truth to them, you could tell as much.

"I would kill as I watched them eat the best kind of Energon. Drink the rarest of oils and wear the highest of tech accessories."

    Megatron gets closer to you but he never kneels. He still believes he is above you. It's comical. Telling you stories about the inequality he suffered when there will never be a time he will see you as equal.

"Do you know what that feels like? Being tortured if you failed? Your spinal cord breaking and have no spare parts to repair it? While I see others throw parts into the pit, like their lives meant nothing."

    Rage. He is filled with it. Finally, an emotion you could sympathize with or at least recognize. You didn't break eye contact nor were afraid. If he wanted to kill you, he had done so a very long time ago. You are more curious and in awe at the being in front of you.

    His metal was damaged and scratched, his tall figure and spiky demeanor. He appears to be fierce, he had to be, otherwise he wouldn't be here. But you can't help and wonder if he had been allowed a different life, would he be different?

"I don't fight for freedom," Megatron says. "I fight for my survival."

    You sigh heavily and your eyes show nothing but exhaustion. You muster the strength to speak. You can't give him anything but your sympathy.

"... You must be so tired."

    You must be hallucinating because for a moment you could have sworn you saw something else in those red eyes.

    Megatron turns around, no longer allowing you to see his face.

"Optimus was just like those Cybertronians I hated and he continues to be one. The system I fight to break, he continues to fight to repair it."

He steals a glance your way and he notices your concern.

"He was part of the crowd. Enjoying every match, every death. Laughing as it happened. How did you think we met?"

    He walks back towards you but you notice his steps have become slower. The floor didn't tremble as much as if he was being careful without knowing.

"Oh? Didn't he tell you?"

    You part your sight away from his. After a heavy sigh, you take up the courage to look at him again.

"We've been looking for ancient Cybertronian relics," you don't have another option. You had to sacrifice a little bit of truth to survive. "We don't know their function yet but we believe that they might be parts of something bigger."

"And do you know the location of these relics?"

"Just of one, the rest of the information is on my cellphone."

    He seems to be interested now or rather atypical about your wording. He probably doesn't know certain terminology.

"And where is this cellphone you speak of?"

    You muster a smile. You know Megatron can be a great negotiator, but so are you.

"If you want to know, I'll have my bag. With my cigarettes."

....

Fingal's Cave, Northern Ireland.

    The night is dark and full of mysteries. Especially in dark caves where the waves of the sea clash against the rocks. It would have been a perfect vacation, had you not been kidnapped by evil alien robots. This might be nothing for them, maybe just a nice bubble bath. But to you? It's a certain death. You don't even know how to swim.

    You stand next to Megatron. Behind you, there are a few warrior Decepticons. It was cold and humid and your intrusive thoughts made you want to jump into the crazed waves.

"The relic should be right there," you point to one of the walls and Megatron quickly looks at his army. It took only one look for them to know what they were supposed to do. Excavate.

You waited for a few seconds and noticed how fast they were putting away rocks and dust. Soon they will reach the relic and once they have what they want they will take you back to the Nemesis.

    Suddenly, a green moving circle appears on the other side of the cave. You are a bit relieved. For a moment you genuinely thought they wouldn't appear.

    It's the first time you see a ground bridge. It's beautiful and even more the aliens coming out from it. Tall, big, strong. Everything you weren't and for a moment you feel guilty. They shouldn't be here. They shouldn't be worrying about an insignificant life such as yours.

"Took you all long enough."

    Optimus stands in front of his team. A battle mask covers half of his face, he looks fierce. You had never seen him like this before. He was intimidating and you were a bit scared of what he could do.

"Let (y/n) go, Megatron."

"Did you bring her cell phone?"

    A shiver runs down your spine. You look up at him and he looks at you. Your eyes and his optics meet for a second. Unable to control your confusion, your voice betrayed you. With Megatron, showing emotion is a fatal mistake.

"What? How do you-"

"Nothing happens in the Nemesis without me knowing. Or do you think I was careless enough to leave your cell-door open?" his voice resonates within the containment of the cave. Not even the waves crashing could subside his voice. "I wanted you to contact them so they could do all the work for me."

"I am sure you must have led them to other relics. If they want you, they must turn them in as well."

    You began to panic, your plan was crumbling. It was your fault for believing you could outsmart a million-years living creature.

"It's not true! They don't have them, I never-"

"We have one."

    If looks could kill, your eyes would have killed Optimus. In fact, the Autobots have two relics. Optimus is lying and although a part of you is glad to know he could lie, right now you wish he had stayed quiet.

"Then you know what you must do."

    Megatron suddenly picks you up, putting you a few meters above the water level.

    You didn't know what to say. There was no guarantee that after receiving the relic, Megatron would let you go safely. Most importantly, you didn't understand. Why would the Autobots risk losing a valuable item over a human? There were many of you and only a few of those artifacts.

    Optimus doesn't hesitate and uses his comm-link. Speaking clearly, he calls Ratchet, ordering him to bring one relic through the ground bridge.

    Meanwhile, you see the Decepticons work on obtaining the other relic. They must be close as their excavation has become slower, maybe due that they do not want to damage the relic.

    You try to find a way to break free but Megatron's grasp is too strong.  Your body has started giving up, you haven't eaten in four days and your mouth tastes like cigarettes.

    After a few tense minutes, Ratchet comes from the groundbridge, holding the white pot that contained the relic. You instinctively move your head from side to side. You didn't want to be the reason they lost it.

"Starscream, retrieve the relic and the cell phone."

    You didn't notice the Commander before. Your senses must be failing you by now. He passes by Megatron and you know that if he could, he would push the leader of the Decepticons into the water.

"My pleasure, my liege."

    And as he passes by, you can see Ratchet's disappointed face. All of their faces, as a matter of fact. You hated being useless and being used. You thought that staying quiet was the best option. But after seeing Optimus hand down your cell phone to Starscream and his cocky smile, you couldn't have it.

"Just go!" you scream, hoping that your voice is loud enough. "I'll figure it out! You don't have to do this!"

    But it's like they weren't paying attention. Like your opinion didn't matter at all. Like you were a liability that had to be taken care of, not listened to.

    Ratchet hesitantly gives the white ceramic pot to Starscream who aggressively takes it in his claws. He happily walks back to his Master as if he had finished completing the hardest of missions.

"You have what you wanted. Now let her go!"

    Optimus threatens Megatron but it only amuses him. He looks at you, taking a few seconds to appreciate your face one last time.

"Lord Megatron, we have retrieved this place's relic."

    Starscream says as the army of Decepticons had successfully extracted the artifact and that's everything Megatron needed to hear.

"A deal it's a deal," Megatron crossed optics with Optimus.  "But this is for lying."

    He opens his claws, letting you go and dropping you into the wild waves.

    Megatron watches as Optimus jumps to save you. A selfless act, very much like him. What he was doing for you, he would do for anyone else. But there was something about it. Something that Megatron knew would catch Optimu's attention. Whatever it was, he would figure it out eventually. For now, he will let Prime have you. To let him enjoy his human pet as much as he can. Before taking you away.

"Next time, bring me all the relics you have, Prime. Or she will pay the price."

    Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee didn't even hesitate to go after him. They focused on helping Optimus and it was too late regardless. Megatron was already one step inside the groundbrige, ready to go back to the Nemesis.

"How did you know they had more relics?" Starscream walks behind Megatron, curious about his actions.

"I didn't," he says. "It's all a bet. Besides ..."

    Megatron stops walking and quickly glances back. Getting a glimpse of Optimus coming out of the water, holding your fragile body.

"She's not half bad."

....

    The first thing that crossed your mind after waking up was ... work.

Fowler told you to not worry about it and that things had been taken care of.

    You didn't want to ask any further.

Especially after learning that you could no longer go back to your home.

    It took you a couple of days to recover.

Falling into the wild waters of Fingal's Cave had done more injuries than the ones the Decepticons inflicted on you. Your body crashed a few times into rocks before Optimus rescued you.

     But the pain in your body did not compare to the disappointment you feel.

    You couldn't even look at the Autobots without feeling ashamed.

Now you can't even go home now.

"I apologize as for you now have to remain here. But it must be in your best interest to stay since the Decepticons know of your home location."

    You didn't hear Optimus come through the rooftop door. Even with his massive steps and weight. Maybe you had gotten used to the sound of walking bots too fast.

"You may not be too fond of sharing a home but I promise you we are not too loud."

    The top of the hangar gave you the best view of the Nevada desert. With sad rocks and a few cacti... alright maybe it wasn't that visually appealing.

    But the night sky made up for it.

"I don't do good with people ... and bots," you pull out a cigarette from your jacket's pocket and light it up. Hearing Optimus coming closer and sitting down on the cliff with you.

    You immediately move away for a few centimeters, feeling uncomfortable at the closeness. You didn't notice your body had acted this way but Optimus did.

"I can sense some hostility emitting from you."

    Optimus optics lay on you but you wouldn't spare him a look.

"Optimus was just like those Cybertronians I hated and he continues to be one. The system I fight to break, he continues to fight to repair it."

    You didn't know if you should bring up the matter or just keep it to yourself. But after the events at the Nemesis, you find yourself unable to look at Optimus the same. Not like it matters much, but deep down, a part of you wanted to trust him ... to believe in him.

"If there are any concerns-"

"Megatron told me," you interrupt him, the act feels disrespectful but you hope he didn't feel like that. "That you used to enjoy watching him fight and kill others in the gladiator's pits. That you fight to bring the caste system back."

"While is true that I used to attend such activities, I never supported it," subconsciously, Optimus wanted you to look at him. He needed your acknowledgment, something you refused to give him at the moment.    

    "Megatron and I used to share similar ideologies. But he believed that equality could only be obtained if the other classes were eliminated."

"And you?"

"I believe that every sentient being has the ability to change."

    You let out a subsided laugh, looking down at your lap and then up again at the desert night.

    "So what? You were hoping to change a whole social class with pretty words and inspiring speeches?"

"We cannot build a new world founded on violence."

"And where has that led you? To a strange planet and your race almost extinct."

    He had good sentiments, you admired that but at some point you consider naivety to be stupidity.

"Cybertron will be rebuilt on tragedy," you say.

"And what am I supposed to do? Let him have his way?"

    You have noticed that Optimus speaks less formally when he finds himself in a tough spot. Now, it was one of those moments. Your words had hit a circuit but you didn't want for this to turn into an argument. Not when you wanted to gain his sympathy.

"I am not saying I know what's best. What I am saying is that I thought you..."

    You couldn't continue with your sentence. Because what you wanted to say was stupid and based on old ideas. Maybe deep down, you wished Optimus was that hero the world needed. But he was a leader. The leader of a war where there is no winner. He could only do what he did best. And that was making the hard decisions no one else could.

    You had put too much expectations on his shoulders. He can't be a hero and a leader at the same time. If he were to be a hero, he would have been dead long ago. But his team needed him alive, he couldn't afford to die a martyr. He must know that.

"Listen to me Prime," you called him by his first name. Now more than ever, you believe there will never be a time when you will call him by his first name. "Everyone is a slave to something. Even you are enslaved to your own stupid ideologies of hope."

    You were always precausious to never show your beliefs. Maybe years ago, you shared similar sentiments as Optimus. You saw yourself in him and you wanted to save him. Save him from the disappointment of the real truth of your world.

"But let me tell you this; you have those views because you lived through better times. You have tasted peace and solemnity," you had no stand to be lecturing him. Yet, you didn't see it that way. You were just speaking your feelings.

      "But them? Working as miners, being gladiators just for your entertainment? They never had what you did. This is their hope to have better times."

    You sigh heavily and feel your lungs struggle to breathe.

"And you just took that from them."

    Seconds turned into minutes and you thought Optimus would stand up and leave you alone. But he instinctively got closer to you. He probably didn't notice his actions.

"I used to really enjoy watching your old reports."

    The leader of the Autobots looks back fondly at the younger version of you. A few years back you had done a story about a small town that had been struck by a tornado. Many died and homes were destroyed.

    But instead of focusing on the downside of things, you talked about how the community came together to help each other build back their town. The resilience and strength. Optimus was inspired by how such small things could build things bigger than themselves.

     "Even when the report was about a catastrophic event, you always ended things positively."

"In the days where I had doubts, where I thought I couldn't do this anymore, I ... "

    He pauses, he can't understand the feeling in his spark but his voice box struggles to process words.

"I would watch you on TV and you would give me inspiration to continue my mission."

    His formality had dropped drastically and you wonder if this was his way to let his guard down and open up to you.

"But now that you are telling me this ... I think you are right," his voice cracks and your world crumbles.  "What is left worth fighting for?"

You didn't know Optimus could feel doubt and hesitancy. You are reminded of the power of words. How you, a small insignificant human could make a robot full of wisdom question the truth of his life? It was too much power and you didn't want it. You didn't want Optimus to view life the way you do. So pessimistic, so gloomy.

    You didn't believe in any of it, hope, love. None of that was enough to change the world. But Optimus didn't have to know that.

You wanted him to keep believing. To belive he could change the world with just words.

Fuck the truth.

"Megatron is full of rage," you say. "And sometimes rage allows us to live. To survive."

    You decide to overstep boundaries and you put a hand over his servo. But you don't look at him, too shy to do so.

"But faith does too."

    You were no one to question his beliefs. If you were completely honest, you would like to keep enjoying the company of this Optimus. The optimistic one, resilient, strong with unbreakable morals.

But in the back of your mind, the question still remains. There's no victory without sacrifice.

What if to win the war, to give meaning to the lives of fallen ones, he has to sacrifice his ideologies and beliefs?

What would you do ... Optimus?

"(Y/n)," Optimus calls your name so sweetly you feel your body shake up a little.

    He holds your hand, so delicately, so softly as if he is afraid of hurting you. As if he is afraid you might break. You had never been held so fondly,  your heart feels like melting.

"I have failed miserably in protecting you," He looks at your body and you feel like his optics pierce through your soul.  You feel seen but you didn't mind it one bit. "The injuries in your body are proof of it."

"I am aware we are strangers to titles but I would like to establish a new relationship."

    You didn't understand how he could make you feel in such a way. In a state of warmth and peace. How his presence alone was enough to comfort and heal wounds that go beyond physical pain.

"If you accept me as your guardian, I'll protect you and no harm shall ever find your way. I'll give my life for you if necessary. I'll do as you ask and have your safety as one of my purposes for living. Under these stars as a witness, I swear this to you."

    Like the stars above, there were many mysteries you didn't understand. You thought that maybe Optimus was one of those mysteries as well. Otherwise, you didn't understand how such a beautiful creature would ever put your life above his own. Does he see you as a bothersome being? Probably. But you don't mind. A part of you wanted to be protected by such a powerful creature. A righteous one at least. Maybe he does see you as a pet to be taken care of.

    But now that you think about it ... You don't mind devoting yourself to him either.

"I accept but under one condition," you wish you could be closer to his face, you feel a need to look closer at his optics.  "If you protect me ... then I'll take care of you."

"Care for me?"

"If you ever have doubts, if you feel lonely, or if you just want to talk,"  all of a sudden you feel shy and you quickly part your sight. You didn't have the time to think the reason why. "I want to share the burden of your decisions with you, please."

"You will do that for me?"

    He blinks multiple times, unsure of your words and you find this cute.

"You are willing to give up on your life for me," you make a small pause before continuing. "It's the least I can do."

    Looking at a desert wasn't fun. But talking always was. Especially with an alien robot with millions of years' worth of wisdom. It's strange how you always felt better after talking to Optimus. He doesn't seem to be the type to judge and that's what you appreciated the most about him.

"(Y/N), You have proven to be more than meets the eye," you hear his voice closer and immediately turn. He had slouched significantly to be able to see you face to face. It must be an uncomfortable position but he still made the effort to see you at an eye level.

    Maybe he also had a certain need to be as close as possible to you.

"I am glad the universe allowed us to encounter."

And before you could have the time to blush again, your brain replayed his words.

"Don't you mean optic? You guys don't have eyes."

    Optimus straightens his back, no longer looking at you. This time he looks up at the sky, he looks curiously at them. Putting a servo on his chin, he looks to be in deep thought.

"That is true. But that is an ancient saying of my people."

"If it's an ancient saying then can we assume your kind and mine have met before?"     You tilted your head, imagining the possibilities. You move your feet into a yoga position, feeling more comfortable.

"That is an interesting theory although I don't remember reading such things back at the archives. Maybe it's something worth investigating."

    Optimus also thought of the possibilities, maybe this could be tied to the relics.

"Oh! Do you want to investigate it together?" this could be an important piece to your report. It would also be more credible if you had an actual Transformer help you write on what is probably one of the greatest discoveries in human history.

     "We could write a report on it and give an informative presentation to the kids and the Autobots."

You put your hands up and them move them slowly in a parting motion.

"Cybertron and Earth: A Deeper Look Into Cybertronian-Human Relations and Why Our History Is Longer Than We Think."

The topic sounded more interesting to Optimus and the archivist in him started to show. You knew this by the way he would blink more often. It happened whenever something excited him.

"That sounds like a remarkable and revolutionary subject. I could try to look into Cybertron's' old archives and see if I can find something related to the topic."

If Optimus could always be excited like this, you wish you could hear him talk forever. Could he tell you all the stories and tales of his people. But would it hurt him to speak about them? To reminiscence the past may open old wounds and you didn't want to be the cause of it. You won't push it but you'll wait until he is ready.

"And I'll interview Fowler and see if he knows something or knows someone that knows more of the topic." That will be a challenge but there hasn't being a single person who never gave you an interview. Of course, you find your way. Ethical or not, it didn't matter as long as the truth was revealed.

"I  am looking forward to hearing about your findings."

"I am excited to look at your research too!"

That night you learned many things. About Optimus especially. About how he would blink a lot whenever something got him excited. About how he loses his formality in words when he gets comfortable, excited or angry. Things like this made him feel closer to you as if he wasn't from an alien race but rather just another living creature existing in the same universe. And that's exactly what it was.

One hour turned into two, then three, four. Time passed by so fast, just talking and enjoying each other company. You smoked a few cigarettes and promised Optimus to buy a few gallons of oil for him to enjoy next time.

Although you were still downhearted for being unable to return to your home, you tried to look at the bright side of things. It was something you weren't used to do. But being with Optimus, his optimism rubbed off on you.

    You two talked endlessly until you fell asleep on his servos. Optimus watched the sunrise; grateful to have met you, thinking how beautiful it was to love the ordinary. For at least, and with all the certainty in the universe he knew ... he was worthy of this.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: This chapter took longer than I expected and I think after this one I am going to work on another fic (from another fandom) because I am so close to finishing that story and I just haven't uploaded in sometime. But! I'll be writing one shots for tumblr. I'll start working on a one shot for Christmas! The poll is over and we have a winner. Thank you to everyone who voted and all the comments, notes and likes. I'll take my time to respond to each of you :) My inbox is always open for any comment, ideas, concerns or prompts ideas.

I definitely want for Reader and Optimus to have chemistry. I think it's very important to show interaction with each other and show why they are attracted instead of them just having them fall randomly? Like I want to show Optimus and Reader have similar interest and passions but having contrasting ideas. I'll probably have them dancing and being silly together at some point.

On the next chapter I'll have Reader do some actual work. She's gonna be undercover (she has to dress seductively to fit into the world of car racing where she meets a hot mechanic who teaches her a lot about cars and Optimus has to follow her around cause that's his job as his guardian. His circuits go crazy cause he can't understand why all of a sudden he finds a human attractive-)

I want Optimus to feel like he has something of his own, something only he can protect and take care of because he can and wants (by choice) and it's not forced upon him nor a responsibility to bear (like the matrix) and that lovely thing being you ofc.

Sorry for an errors and grammar mistakes, I don't proof read.

I also feel like I haven't used much of the other bots so I'll make sure to use them more often now if the plot requires it.

I think that's all for now. Thank you so much for reading and see you in the next chapter!

Previous Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/768513873838030848/the-darkest-hour?source=share

Next Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/778750150370836480/the-darkest-hour?source=share

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hello! i was wondering if you could do poly!plastic x reader where regina has a condition like anemia or is simply just sick and won't admit that she's sick or needs help till she eventually collapses. sorry if it's too specific and you absolutely don't have to do it if you fon't wanna! :)

The Date-

|| poly!plastics x nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; mostly Regina's pov, mentions of throw up, Regina's sick and hiding it, Gretchen stands up to Regina (though briefly), Regina blacks out, brief swearing

|| Summary; when Regina wakes up, she finds she isn't feeling well. But holds out for the date later that evening.

Requests closed!

Started; November 13th

Finished; November 13th

+ Anon Request; hey can you do poly!plastics x reader where it's regina being sick or anemic (only her gfs know that) but would never admit if she's not feeling well because she has an image to "uphold." sorry if it's too specific! it's all gopd i you can't 😅

Author Note; i wrote her being sick, since that was easier for me to write 🫶

~~~

It wasn't often Regina George got sick. In fact, there was hardly ever a time where she was. Of course she's faked being sick a number of times, just like every other kid. But today she was not feeling great. Like, at all. Every time she took a step Regina felt like she would throw up. Or pass out. Or both.

But did she take the day off? No. Because there were things she genuinely wanted to do at school and after today. She wanted to see her girlfriends and partner. Plus, Regina was looking forward to their date tonight. She booked them reservations at a nice ass restaurant and it would suck to lose their spot. Considering the next wait was nearly two months. She wasn't about to wait forever again. So, Regina tried her hardest to look okay. She may have over done it a bit on the makeup, but Regina hardly cared right now.

Despite feeling sick, Regina still took the time to pick up all of you. You, Gretchen and Karen. None of you noticed the signs at first. Gretchen thought she maybe saw a grimace, or was it a scowl? Sometimes it was hard to tell with the blonde. She did try keeping an eye on her, though it didn't take long before Gretchen was distracted by Karen's lips.

Being at school was probably the worst part of it. She skipped a lot of her classes. Regina ended up spending most of her day in the bathroom, just in case she threw up. Because there was no way she would be listening to a teacher right now. No matter who told her to. She'd come out for lunch, hanging out with you and the girls. Trying to seem okay enough that no one would ask her any questions.

Regina managed to make it all the way until the end of the day. Where everything went wrong. Regina was walking next to you, on her other side was Gretchen and Karen. The four of you walking together. You held Regina's hand, rambling about whatever your latest interest was. And Regina tried to pay attention. She really, really did. But... everything went black.

She could vaguely hear the sounds of voices, though it was like she was separated by water. It was muffled, groggily. All around impossible to understand. When she finally came to, Regina was in the nurse's office at the school. Bucket at her couch side. You were next to her while Gretchen and Karen watched nervously. Hands and arms linked together. She groaned as she tried to sit up, but you put a hand to her chest. Keeping her down.

"No you don't," You murmured. Regina's eyes locked to yours and you could see the pain and nausea behind her eyes.

"What..?" Regina had started to ask what happened, but you answered before she could speak. Wanting her to save her strength. You gently brushed Regina's hair out of her face, hand cupping her cheek before you spoke.

"You passed out. Nurse said you looked feverish," You explained, Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes. Slowly letting herself sink into the couch a bit. Before her eyes widened.

"The date-" Regina said, once gain thinking about the reservations. You just smiled softly and shook your head. Looking to Gretchen.

"Absolutely not, those reservations aren't as important as your health." Gretchen put her foot down; which was rare for her to do. Especially to Regina. Though Gretchen's worry for her out weighed any fears.

"There were reservations?" Karen blinked, looking at Gretchen. She forgot all about it. Gretchen just sighed.

"Not for tonight." Her tone held a sense of firmness to it that sounded weird coming from Gretchen. Regina challenged her, knowing it usually didn't take much to sway the girl.

"Excuse me? We're going, I paid a shit tone for those spots. Besides, I'm literally fine. You're overreacting." Regina grumbled. Trying to keep hold of her image. She had to be fine.

You frowned at her, deciding to take over when you saw Gretchen tense up," we'll get a refund, baby. Go another time. But like Gretchen said, those reservations aren't as important as your health."

Regina did not look happy in the slightest. But she finally stopped fighting on it, mostly because she threw up in the trash can. And she was smart enough to know there would be no convincing after that.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.47

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader, (OC) Callisto x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: A little blood

(Brandon)

(Callisto)

Brandon quickly leads us to the landing platforms behind the school. But the closer we get, the more a strange feeling spreads in my stomach, but I think nothing of it, at least not until it gets worse. To calm my anxiety, I dare to look over my rescuer's shoulder, even though I don't think anyone else would attack us. But with wide eyes, I witness exactly what I thought would never happen to us again. Once again, the universe must contradict me.

"Stop!" I shout, causing Brandon to stop immediately. My shocked eyes jump to him, only to see him looking at me in complete confusion. His gaze alone makes me realize that he thought I meant for him to stop. I blush at my stupidity. "Sorry, I didn't mean you," I mumble, a little ashamed.

“Who did you mean then?” He asks, still visibly confused, looking like a lost, perhaps even sad puppy.

Unable to speak in the face of such cuteness, I simply look over his shoulder again, but Brandon doesn't seem to understand. I feel his eyes still on me.

My previously yelled words were ignored by the person they were intended for because soon after, a second pair of hands wrapped around me, easily ripping me from the safe arms that had protected my life not so long ago. 

Before I know it, I'm squashed against another chest that I know all too well. Attempting to speak only gets me pressed even harder against those perfectly formed pecs. Sometimes I really despise Callisto for being so damn attractive because even if it were just for a moment, I wish I could just stay there, but if we don't get away quickly, I probably won't be among the living for long.

Seeing no other way out since he isn't even looking at me, I pull my arm back, and with all the strength I can muster, I let my fist fly. 

Although I don't hear an unpleasant crunching or feel any strange sensation under my fist, he still loosens his grip on me. I use this moment to jump out of his arms, only to almost fall to the ground as my knees give way from weakness. I realize that soon, I won't even have enough strength to stand on my own.

Before I can say anything, Daniel is already at my side, with his right arm around my waist and my left arm over his shoulder, where he holds it tightly. I couldn't be more grateful that he preserves my dignity, but there's time to thank him later when I'm not about to die anymore.

"Did you bring a pilot?" I feel dizzy just talking. The situation is becoming increasingly dangerous for my health. I can hear him answering me, but not the actual words. My head is too foggy, so I'm just assuming he gave me a positive answer. "Good, we need to get to Alfea immediately!"

I didn't give them a second thought before dragging Daniel to the Hawke. Daniel is the real hero here; he supports me almost entirely without compromising my dignity like the others did while carrying me. Even though Brandon's arms feel the most comfortable, this arrangement is better because it prevents Callisto from getting jealous. Maybe if he didn't skip gym class so often, his arms would feel as good as Brandon's. 

Even though I'm pretty sure I was only thinking about these things and not saying them out loud, I still feel like the boys are starting to stare at me. It's probably just because I hit Callisto, although it should be normal for them to see that by now since we hit each other quite often, mostly because we know how far we can go without really hurting each other. But sometimes, the boys just act crazy.

Luckily, it doesn't take long until we're finally inside this killing machine, and the uncomfortable atmosphere dissipates, but honestly, my body doesn't feel so good anymore. It feels like my body wishes to sleep for at least a thousand years, but I'm afraid that if I let myself fall, I won't wake up as quickly as before or at all.

As I sit, I lean my head against one of the walls of the machine; my eyelids feel heavy. As I replay the day in my head and think back to the early morning, I remember how refreshed I felt. Even though my eyes are heavy, I close them. It takes a lot of energy to move my head so I can look down at my left hand. Safely inside lies the small homemade stuffed animal. A gentle smile crosses my lips. I lift it to my head and lean against the jewel eyes. I press my mana into my head and let it flow out of it. The jewels absorb it immediately, but it does not stay in them; instead, what makes me so lethargic stays inside them and lets my clear mana flow out again, which I, in turn, quickly draw back into myself.

After a few moments, my head is clear again. I lower the little animal to my heart and do the same. Although I know it is irrelevant because everything will soon be the same as before, walking alone will be enough, at least for a while.

“We’re landing!” suddenly shouts the guy Callisto brought as a pilot with him.

A little stunned, I couldn't believe it had happened so quickly—after all, we had only just started, right? But as I stand up and walk to the front, I actually see Alfea sprawling before us.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” the guy asks me when he sees me coming.

I look at him for the first time. He's not the nerd type like most other pilots; he looks more like a laid-back guy with a light tan, medium-length brown wavy hair, a casual smile, and friendly green eyes.

"You're from Terrenia, right?" The guy stares at me, probably trying to figure out how I know. "It's because of your skin; that's how I know you're from the Reinios region, probably either Bartel or the region's capital, Bautel."

I see him swallow hard, either out of fear or just amazement that I can so easily tell where he's coming from. But for me, it's not even strange; I can do it with almost anyone.

"Yes," he finally replies, his knuckles turning white as he grips parts of the machinery tighter. "What can I do for you?"

I wave him off with an apologetic smile. "Nothing," I say quietly. "If you ever go back to your homeworld, give your guardian fairy and her father, the King, a message from me." I lean closer to him, but as inconspicuously as possible. "The stone never forgets."

Even though my words were vague and most people wouldn't have understood them, his skin turns deathly pale. He must be a nobleman or a member of the royal family. I'm sure they'll show up when I enter into my forced marriage—when I get closer to the throne of my homeland—to try to ease their worries and beg me to stay allied to them. Theoretically, I could be crowned the new King of Gyonos at any moment; as my powers grow, my grandfather's life will slowly end. However, I have always dreamed of wearing the lost stone crown from when my homeworld was considered one of the jewels of the magical dimension.

The death machine lands soon after, so hard that I have to grab the guy's shoulder pretty hard. I quietly apologize before leaving to get out of this disgusting thing. The rest of my group, except the pilot, quickly follows, but Daniel and Vinok overtake me and walk ahead as usual, almost as if they were my guards. They are way too sweet.

I am grateful, though, because this place still scares me, despite having to come here regularly to receive lessons for my awakening and development as a fairy. However, I always wear a hood to avoid looking at those despicable little princesses. I don't speak to any of them, and I stubbornly ignore them even when they try.

But when we get to the gate, it doesn't open. The boys start whispering, but before anyone can get the wrong idea, I quickly weave through the two before me and continue walking. I can hear them shouting at me, but the words get stuck in their throats as the doors open without me having to do anything. I immediately step through, only to remind the others to follow them before the doors quickly close again.

Even as I speak, the doors do just that. Daniel and Vinok jump through, but Brandon and Callisto look at each other. They're one of the few things I really like about the school: they look like the Empress's big fairy wings, rising from the floor to the upper center of the pink archway where they would meet. I gave up hope of seeing them when the doors were already half closed again. Disappointed, I turned towards the building and left without waiting for them any longer. If they don't want to come, I won't force them.

Suddenly, I hear a scream. Fear courses through me, causing my whole body to turn around on its own accord, only to see two idiots flying through the air. I wanted to ignore it and just go my way, but the proximity of the double doors to their legs made that impossible.

When I see the doors closing faster than usual, it doesn't look like they'll make it through. Rolling my eyes, I try to convince myself everything will be fine. But when I feel myself biting my upper lip, I know, even if it's just to calm my worries, that I have to do something to make sure these idiots don't die on my watch.

"Stone Fist!" My summoned stone of choice appears outside the school grounds. It could have been anything, but I really wanted to show them how stupid they were.

With a wave, I sent the stone straight at them. Somehow, I managed to get them at the same height, thus reducing the potential damage. Unfortunately, you can't have everything; perhaps a few broken bones would've given them a sense of self-preservation.

When the stone reaches the two idiots, it's not as close as I feared, but close enough that one or both might at least be injured. Their bodies fly past me quickly. I don't care how they land. I listen with a sickening glee as they slam into the ground with painful groans and wince. Despite everything, I still wander towards them, stopping right next to their heads and staring down at them in disappointment.

"I would ask what you two were thinking, but we don't have time. So why don't you get up and-"

Suddenly, my body aches, and despite my blurred vision, I see the ground much closer than before. It's truly pathetic that I collapsed because of something like this. Although the pressure of the hole in my mana core is severe, it's not the worst pain I've ever experienced. But even on all fours, the pain didn't get any better. Instead, it feels like something inside my body is tearing me apart.

Before I know it, my mouth fills with something disgusting: a metallic taste. It dawns on me. Unable to hold it back, I reflexively spit it out, covering the pink stones that make up most of the place with my deep red blood. The whole world starts to blur, spinning faster than it should. It's not the first time it's happened, but usually not in such a serious situation, but when I try to get up too quickly after waking up.

But before anything can happen, I see the sky again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Daniel and Vinok holding me upright. Although I want to thank them, I find it difficult to get the words out. But then I hear them talking about how they have to take me to the infirmary. Panic overcomes me.

"No!" I scream, finding the strength to protest again. I can barely move my head to see their stunned faces. Although I am grateful, I tear myself out of their grip. "We are going to see Professor Palladium," I tell them, wiping the blood off myself.

Thankfully, I'm trained for moments like this. The only issue is that my aura core no longer resides within me, making it less accessible than it was back on the battlefield. However, with some concentration and sheer panic, I managed to access it through my ring with sheer force. By empowering my body with aura, the side effects of what's happening to me are almost negated—at least for a while.

As my gaze becomes sharper, I perceive many indignant looks directed at us. With my patience already at an end, I pull myself together again.

"What?" I ask them in a tone reserved for people who deserve social death. "Do any of you gossipy little princesses want to comment on us?"

Almost immediately, all the girls cower, maybe out of fear or, hopefully, shame, but one thing is certain: they wouldn't do it again.

Although I sense the discomfort of the other boys, who may actually be interested in at least some of these girls, I order them to follow me, as I need to speak to the professor sooner rather than later.

Despite blood still partially covering my face, I walk with my head held high, with two of my friends in front of me and behind me as if they were my guards once more, but deep down, I know they just want to ensure I don't kill a fairy or two. I'd be lying if I said that hadn't crossed my mind, but right now, there are bigger problems than a few little fairies.

I walk purposefully through the school as if I know where we are going. And in reality, I do know, although I don't tell them, so they think I'm walking around like an idiot.

Despite all this, no one says anything. Maybe they know, which would be surprising because I often feel like they see me as a little boy who needs an adult to look after him.

But what no one sees is the compass in my front pocket. My hand rests on it. Whenever I feel its vibrations, I know we are getting closer. In the end, I didn't need it at all because the compass vibrates strongly just outside the alchemy lab.

Without knocking, I open the classroom door and get everyone's attention. As luck would have it, it's Stella's class, but I don't glance at her, even though it hurts deep inside me. I can only hope that one day, she will return to being the sweet, whiny child she was when we met.

Instead, I immediately go to Palladium's desk and put the little stuffed animal down.

"It's a... cute animal, but what can I really do for you?"

He knows me all too well. Smiling, I lift the animal. "I need to know what kind of crystals these are."

Palladium looks over my shoulder and gives the class something to do before taking the animal and leading us into another room next to the classroom. Inside, it's cozy, with many hanging, standing, and partially floating plants. The opposite wall is littered with hundreds of books, in front of which is a small table with a cup of steaming coffee and a comfortable-looking chair waiting for someone to sit on it.

At the left end of the room is a wooden desk, messy and different than I expected because Palladium looks well put together.

The professor goes straight to his desk, and as soon as he sits down, the door slams shut. This is followed by a shrill scream that catches my full attention. I look at Callisto with a questioning, raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles quietly, “I’m a bit jumpy.”

Hearing those words, so different from his usual cool demeanor, brings a gentle smile to my lips. But then I feel something bubbling inside me. I know exactly what it is, so I take his hand, pull him closer, press my head against his chest, and giggle quietly, hidden by his hoodie.

“I’ll remember that for later,” I whisper in his ear as my laughter fades.

Even though I hear him gasp in what is likely feigned shock, I pull away from him, not only because I fear he might take revenge but, more importantly, because I hear Palladium whispering. Before Callisto can pull me back, I've already jumped around Daniel. Without a word, he steps between us, but not without warning me not to play too hard.

I sit down on the other side of the professor's desk. It's only a matter of time before I get dizzy again. Palladium isn't really paying attention to me; his eyes are focused on the jewels in the little animal Callisto made for me. Just thinking about it makes me smile. I mean, how often does it happen that a male noble can use his hands like that and then use them to help someone?

“Why did you come to me with this?”

Palladium's sudden question almost makes me jump out of my skin. Flustered, I put my fist over my mouth and cleared my throat. I'm so shocked that I almost can't answer him.

"It's the smell of stone around you," I tell him quietly, "like you've lived underground for a long time." 

It's strange that an elf only partially smells like one, and the other half smells like what I imagine a dwarf would smell like. I've only read about them in an old children's book: "The Children of the Stone.“

The older man looks up from the animal for the first time as if trying to understand my words. He smiles kindly and shakes his head in clear amusement.

"You have a good nose there." He lifts the animal up, turns it towards me, and shows me the jewels. "These are Rokonai Paganis Olorods, or the Darkness-Eating Crystals, or, if you want to put it even more simply, Jurikons, a rare jewel, but I think you already know that?"

I feel like a small child found with my hand in the cookie jar at night. I smile sheepishly but nod anyway. Palladium quickly jumps back into action, resting his elbows on the table and looking questioningly.

“That’s not the real reason you're here, is it?”

"No," I shake my head. "I suffered from a sleeping sickness, but I could never figure out why until those two crystals woke me up," I tell him, my smile from earlier gone. "I just wanted someone who knows what they're talking about to agree with me because now I can say with conviction that the Specialist's Academy is full of miasma."

Palladium laughs heartily; it almost seems as if he is about to fall off his chair. Perhaps he thinks it is a weird joke, not only that, but the funniest ever told.

"Professor, please take this seriously," I tell him sternly, but he still doesn't quite believe me. "It's not the first time I've come into contact with miasma, but it's the first time I've almost died because of it."

"Are you serious?" Palladium's horrified face would be priceless under any other circumstances. He must have seen the seriousness in my face because he quickly changed his demeanor. Sitting upright, he looks at me. "Miasma is a big umbrella term for many magical situations; we need to find out what kind of miasma it is first to—"

"Twisted chaos, Miasma," I quickly interrupt his rambling. The professor looks at me in shock and seems at a loss for words. "I'm sorry, Professor, my family is at war with a race of lizard people invading our planet through a twisted chaos portal."

"Okay," Palladium trails off. 

I can see how much he is struggling with this information. I know it's hard to believe. It's supposed to be impossible to enter this dimension, even through portals like these, since we are under the protection of the Fairy Empress and Emperor, beings more powerful than even the Leviathans. But somehow, these lizards could break through.

"The war has been happening intermittently for longer than I have been alive, but the mana on my homeworld is so pure and protected by a guardian fairy that the chaos miasma doesn't have much effect there. But here?"

“Since Magix no longer has a magical protector, it is easier to be influenced by this miasma,” Palladium finally finishes my conclusion.

"Correct, and whoever started this did it in the place with the least magical protection on this entire planet, the Red Fountain Academy, once known as the Wyvern Riding School, but now nothing more than a training facility for specialists," I explain further so even my friends can understand. "And while Saladin seems to be a powerful mage, he is too old."

The professor looks me up and down; I can clearly see distrust reflecting in his eyes, but not towards me.

“Who is planning all this, you know that, don’t you?” he asks sternly.

I look around to ensure no one is around except those I trust the most. I beckon Brandon closer, take his hand, and gently stroke the back of his palm.

"The Black Hand," I finally admit; it hurt to pass it over my tongue. Once a day should be enough, but twice? It feels like blades are cutting deep into me. I sense Brandon's discomfort, his hand stiffening and his breathing erratic. Most shockingly, however, when I maintain eye contact with Professor Palladium, I see nothing but confusion on his face: he seems to have no idea who they are. He's old, probably older than this entire dimension, but somehow, he's never met or heard of them.

"They are an assassination group from ancient times that should have been eradicated long ago, but their existence was reconfirmed when they tried to kill me when I was a child." Even after this explanation, he doesn't seem convinced. I take a deep breath and prepare to reveal a well-kept secret. "They were involved in the extinguishing of Domino's eternal flame."

It became eerily quiet. I'm afraid I didn't say a word, and it was all just in my head until a chair scrapes hard across the floor, followed by a loud sound of wood crashing to the floor. Palladium's eyes are crazy. Very few people remember Domino these days, and even fewer know what happened to it. Although the "Black Hand" was involved, they were not the main culprits, just the ones who weakened the defenses so the real culprits could overwhelm the planet's protectors.

"How do you know that name?"

Daniel has come between Palladium and me because he seems completely out of control.

"It's a state secret," I tell him with conviction. But his crazy look doesn't disappear. Instead, a hint of understanding appears in them.

"Can you use his powers?"

Professor Palladium has a knack for asking questions that baffle me. Of course, he knows about it. He was probably there when the Leviathan War took place. He may even be older, making him almost as old as our Empress and Emperor.

Clearing my throat, I try to ignore it, but I sigh when I feel Palladium's magic acting out.

"Yes," I murmur quietly. "Partly, anyway. It's a long story, but I'm sure you've noticed. I do everything I can to never touch a book." As I let my words sink in, Palladium strangely calms down again. "Because magic is everywhere, every time I touch a book, I wander through the story it tells, from spells, who and how they were created, to when, who, and where potion ingredients were found, which is how I know there were dwarves at one point in time."

Palladium walks over to his chair, picks it up again, and sits back down. Smoothing his hair, he ties it into a ponytail. He folds his hands and keeps his eyes down for longer than necessary. When he looks up again, he seems different, almost as if he is ready to be himself and not the silly Potions professor I always thought he was.

"Chaos Miasma can only be cleared by one's body's mana production," Palladium explains calmly. "Usually, if it was this bad already, it would be a death sentence. But since you're a guardian fairy with an aura, magic, and a fairy magic core, you should be able to clear it rather easily in a few days, maybe weeks, but you'll need to be in a place where there's either no or very little natural mana production."

"But how?" I ask him desperately. "Everything, even stone, produces natural mana! Where could I go to do that?"

Palladium clears his throat as he looks deep into my eyes. He shows genuine desperation, almost as deep as my own. It's evident he cares about me even though he doesn't know me. This could be because of the unusual beginning of our acquaintance.

"The deep sea caves of Andros could be a good place," he suggests. "There are corals that absorb all the mana around them."

While I'm not a huge fan of that much water, it may be the only place I can recover and heal from it. But Palladium has opened a box he shouldn't have.

"Kerrass has a Molcussel tree that also has no mana in its root caves because it rises all up to its evergreen leaves," Daniel suddenly jumps in.

Not to be outdone, Vinok steps forward. "Felrenios has a jewel grove surrounded by countless eucalyptus trees, where the jewels absorb all the mana."

I feel a deep warmth, watching their clumsy attempts to get me to choose their home worlds to rest. But one is particularly quiet. When I turn to Callisto, he seems rather reluctant to interfere. So, with amusement, I ask him if there isn't such a place on his planet. But his cheeks suddenly turn deep red. He closes his eyes and exhales rather hesitantly.

"If you want, you can stay in my bedroom," he says quietly, cringing at his own words. "The walls are set with columns of pure white marble, held together with blankier diamond mortar, which, when combined, also absorbs all mana in the area."

Did I understand him correctly? He's joking, right?

Suddenly, Callisto sighs in exasperation. "My grandfather rebuilt our estate after his throne was stolen and made sure that not even our guardian fairy could harm him in his bedroom, and since I am now the Duke, I live in the same bedroom."

“You would do anything to get me into your bed, wouldn't you?” I ask him boastfully.

"You truly have no idea what I would do," Callisto murmurs, staring straight into my eyes, his cheeks still burning. "But in that case... I would gladly sleep in a different room if it would make you more comfortable."

I stand there, stunned, my mouth slightly open. I couldn't believe that he would not only offer himself and his home to me like that but also express his affection right in front of Professor Palladium. I want to agree and see where this takes us, but suddenly, someone else catches my attention. I've seen Brandon try to offer something earlier, but he's been interrupted several times. I turn to him and give him a hand signal to continue.

Brandon nods shyly. "My family lives in Star Valley on Eraklyon," he tells us, visibly embarrassed. But I have no idea what that means. He clears his throat when he sees my obvious confusion, seemingly trying to hide his uncertainty. "There is absolutely no mana."

His words sound so strange that I can't believe him. But Palladium suddenly chimes in and agrees with Brandon, explaining it as one of the "Zero Zones," extremely rare pheromones of magicless centers in the middle of natural, beautiful places.

"A long time ago, a star fell on Eraklyon, leading the population to believe that it was the reason for the magic-free zone, but that is not the case; there was no magic in the area to begin with."

Brandon quickly agrees. "I have to visit my family anyway; I have a few weeks' vacation to help them."

I turn to the others, and although they are clearly disappointed, they agree that it is for the best. Callisto, in particular, seems almost relieved. A strange feeling runs through my body, an uncomfortable mix of emotions. I wonder if he didn't want me to visit his house. Is he afraid that I won't want him around after this?

Unable to keep to myself, I dive into him and clasp our hands in front of everyone. His blush returns, but his gaze has softened. Without hesitation or breaking eye contact, he raises our hands. With a certain provocation in his shining eyes, he gives me an intimate kiss on the back of my hand.

I start to blush and try to look away, but I can't. Luckily, Palladium breaks the tension, telling us to get going. Otherwise, I wouldn't have much time left.

I silently thank him, but he just shakes his head, hands me my little plushie animal friend, and leads us out. No one seems to have gotten up in the classroom, but somehow I feel uncomfortable there. But I shake it off, believing I just imagined it.

[Masterlist]

[sleepyficss]

Hi! I really loved your two x reader and it inspired me to send a request. Could I get a romantic two x reader drabble where reader is another algebrailian who left the playground a while ago? Like they appear suddenly and interrupt two’s show, only to realize who it is?

glass cake.

two x reader, romantic & fluff

authors note:

i based this off tpot3 because i felt that it flowed the best into this scenario :PP but i did NOT do this scenario any justice i'm so sorry ;;

A distant voice announcing the time for 'Cake At Stake', whatever that was, could be heard atop a tall, almost hotel-like building. You stared up at it, unamused.

Out of all things to get up to while you were gone, Two really had two start a whole contest, huh? You wouldn't have guessed to look for them out here, but you can thank X for that.

You had dropped by the Equation Playground for the first time in what felt like forever – though, you wish it had been longer from that chaos. Locating your little yellow friend was easy enough, and you had promised him that you'd catch up again after a meetup with Two.

With a light hop off the ground, you felt the wind rush past you as you attempted to discreetly glide up to join the other objects on top of the building. The whole 'magic' business was never your strong-suit – leaving that for the other Algebraliens that tended to be more magically inclined – but you could admit to yourself that you'd gotten more of a hang of it over your time away.

Successfully landing next to the other contestants, presumably up for elimination if you'd overheard correctly, the objects' silence grew more confused as they stared at your arrival. Two hadn't noticed, blabbering on about their cheesecake with the assumption that they had all the attention from their contestants on them.

Speaking of that cheesecake, one glance at it made you cringe from imagining it in your own hands. Shards of glass stuck out the top and sides, rendering it inedible. You weren't surprised at their teary-eyed dramatics, they always cared a little too much about their cake. But it was... Endearing.

In response to a very... 'eggy' contestant reassuring them that the cake looks delicious, Two deadpans, "It has shards of glass all over it, but are you saying you'd still eat it?"

"I don't think anyone would eat that, Two..." You couldn't hold yourself back from commenting on the disgrace of a cake.

"Hey! You can't just interrupt my elimination –"

A pause lifted in the air, recognition filling the green number's eyes. You blinked your own, and suddenly felt yourself in the embrace of another.

The shift in the air made it clear that they had teleported to you, despite the few feet that had stood between you and them. And, if the odd stillness of the atmosphere was any sign, you were about to be teleported again.

Another blink leaves your assumption righted. Glancing around, you can't exactly recognise where you are, but you could guess from the bed in the middle of the room and the television standing on a shelf on the opposite side, you were probably inside one of the buildings' rooms. More privacy, you determined.

Focusing back on Two, you struggled to pull your arms out from their own wrapped around your body. If you were any other object, you were sure that you'd be broken from the pure strength that Two hugged you with.

Once you'd successfully won your arms back, you slinked them around Two to return their embrace, feeling their head dig deeper into your chest at the comfort of your movements. You leaned down, resisting the temptation to press a kiss onto the crown of their head, and instead just rest your cheek on them.

"Didn't think you'd miss me this much," You teased quietly, "But don't you have a show to host?"

They lifted their head, with you lifting your own in accordance. You felt guilt from your words as you noticed the tears held back in their eyes, a frown etched on their face with quivering lips to follow.

"You left the playground ages ago, I-I didn't even know if you were going to come back... Of course I missed you!"

You were... Surprised, to say the least.

Somehow, you didn't think they'd be this emotional over your return... However, they were always the type, so you should have expected this. It didn't stop the guilt from gnawing away at your soul as you stared at their obvious upset, though.

"Two... I'm sorry, I didn't realise you... Actually missed me." You raised a hand to cup their face, "I won't leave again, alright?"

A frown was still burrowed on their face despite your words, "B-But could you... Stay here, with me? We don't have any spare rooms, b-but you could always stay in mine! That is, I-I can sleep on the floor, or something –"

A light blush tinted your cheeks at their request, a nervous giggle forcing its way out of you and cutting of their rambling, "I'd be happy to – anywhere is better than that mess of a playground, but being with you... Would be perfect, Two, I –"

You were abruptly cut off by the mentioned Algebralien smashing their face against yours, a muffled noise of surprise coming from you, before reciprocating the action and leaning further into them. You felt your face growing warmer still, hugging Two tighter against you as if you could deepen the kiss further.

You revelled in the sweetness of their lips – they, unsurprisingly, tasted a lot like cake. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the only thing they ever bothered to eat. It was almost addicting, though, the taste matching their saccharine actions.

The eventual need to pull away had you holding back a complaint at it ending all too quickly, but the tenderness in Two's eyes as they kept eye-contact with you had the words dying on your tongue.

You felt yourself dry-swallowing, needing to speak up before the silence consumed you both, "I don't think I would mind sharing your bed with you, Two."

They let an amused smile light up on their cheeks at your remark, still blushing a deep green. Although, they suddenly tensed up and threw themselves out of your arms as if remembering something vital.

"A-Ah, the contestants are still waiting on the roof! Uh..." Two nervously looked up in the vague direction, playing with their hands as if they were unsure of their next words, "...You wouldn't mind joining me... And being my co-host, would you..?"

Despite all temptations to tell them that this whole 'contest' was rather silly, and to decline their offer, the passion that they had for it was too infectious. Plus, you didn't want to even imagine the disappointment they'd feel if you responded with anything but 'yes'.

Therefore, you did exactly that, "I'd love to."

"Really? Oh, that's wonderful! They're all going to love you – the contestants, I mean. And you'll love the challenge I have for them today, there's this amusement park –"

A quick peck on the lips had them shutting up, "Maybe, we should get back to them first? They've already been waiting for a while."

"O-Oh! Right, yes, You're right." They held out their hands, signifying you to place your own into theirs.

"By the way, Two?" You murmured as they prepared to teleport you both to the contestants, the air warping around you, "I love you."

With a 'pop!' you had both landed outside, amongst a gathering of trees – seemingly far away from the hotel building. Two held a lost expression, the deep green blush covering their face once again with furrowed eyebrows.

"Hey! Y-You distracted me!" They grumbled as you snickered at the failed teleporting attempt.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it –" You managed out between huffs of laughter.

"But I, uh, I love you too..." Two responded, almost shyly, and caused your amusement to die out as it was replaced by your own blushing.

You gave them one last peck on the lips, before offering a warm smile, "Alright, we've definitely been gone for too long now – we should head back."

They nodded, gripping your hands a smidgen tighter while looking into your eyes. For such an emotional person, Two could really make you feel your own emotions tenfold – for that, you think you owe it to them to stay by their side, this time.