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jessiexflem · 2 months ago

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- all-american | jessie fleming x reader

content: fluff, UCLA Jessie! (and Teagan being a butthead)

word count: 1.4K

requests are open :)

“You’re staring again,” Teagan pokes her teammate with the eraser on her pencil.

Heat rises up Jessie’s neck and face as she turns her head to glare at the Australian, “I am not!”

“Oh, whatever,” Teagan scoffs, rolling her eyes, “you’ve been giving her heart-eyes the entire time we’ve been here.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah? Then what’s the answer for number twelve?”

Jessie glances down at her calculus homework, the paper mostly unaltered except where she had scribbled her name in the top corner.

“Thought so,” Teagan replies smugly, “Gotta get your head screwed on, Jess, our grades depend on it.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be talking right now,” Jessie points at the ‘quiet please’ sign above the librarian’s head before focusing back on her homework, hoping it would encourage her friend to drop the subject.

“Come on, Jess, why don’t you just ask her out?”

“I thought you told me to focus on our homework,” Jessie sets her pencil down with a huff, “Plus, why would I do that?”

“Because you like her?” the Australian gives her a ‘duh?’ look.

“No, I don’t!” Jessie’s cheeks flush, “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters, we’ve been sitting here for over an hour, and you haven’t noticed that I moved your calculator underneath my notebook” Teagan chuckles, “Not to mention, any time you see her, she’s all you can talk about for hours. ‘Y/N’s so smart, Y/N showed me how to do this in lab, Y/N wasn’t in class today, and I missed her so mu–’”

“We’re just lab partners, that’s all,” Jessie shakes her head.

Teagan crosses her arms, tipping her chair onto its back legs. She narrows her eyes at her roommate, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, so if you insist you don’t like Y/N, you won’t mind if I ask her out on a date?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you don’t like her, right? So, you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“Go for it,” Jessie replies dryly. She knew there was no way Teagan would actually ask you out, she barely knew you. She wouldn’t even know who you were if she hadn’t (annoyingly) crashed one of your study sessions during midterms last semester.

Putting her head down, Jessie redirects her attention back to her neglected math problems. The assignment was due at midnight, and she managed to make zero progress. Copying the numbers from the first question, she starts working through the equation until she realizes she needs a function on her graphing calculator.

“Can I have my calc–” Jessie stops mid-sentence as she looks up to see Teagan waving you over to their table, “What are you doing?!”

“You said I could ask Y/N out, so I figured I’d catch her as she was leaving.”

Backpack slung over your shoulders, you weave your way toward where the two were sitting. You notice Jessie’s posture tense as she whispers frantically to her teammate. Catching her eye, you direct a smile at your lab partner.

“Y/N!” Teagan greets cheerfully, “Done studying for the day?”

You shrug, “I should probably look over my ethics study guide a bit more, but I could feel my brain going numb and figured it was time for a break. What about you two?”

“Well, if you’re needing another study break later this week,” Teagan starts. Intrigued by what she had to say, you didn’t notice the color drain from Jessie’s normally rosy cheeks. “We were wondering if you were free Saturday afternoon? Jessie and I have a game at 4, and we wanted to invite you to watch.”

Jessie, realizing she was subconsciously holding her breath, let out a deep exhale.

“I’d love to! I haven’t been able to make it out to one yet,” you say as your phone begins to buzz in your hand, “I’ve got to head out, but text me the details, Jess?”

Jessie nods rapidly, her brain unable to form a coherent answer. She watches you walk away, feeling Teagan’s eyes burning a hole in her cheek. She didn’t even have to turn her head to know that her friend had the biggest smirk on her face.

“So, if I ever think that my lab partner’s getting asked out on a date, should I look like I’m about to puke, too? Or are you going to admit you have a crush on the girl?” Teagan teases.

“I hate you,” Jessie mutters, glaring at her.

“Bet you can’t wait to show off your first team All-American skills, huh? You better practice what goal celebration you’re going to dedicate to her.”

“I’m done talking to you.”

“Jessie and Y/N, sitting in a tree, K–”

“Just give me my calculator back.”

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Jessie was having a horrible game. She couldn’t remember the last time she played this poorly. Constantly losing the ball in the midfield, getting outrun and out-muscled by her opposing mark. Her head was running a thousand miles a minute, and the only thing she could focus on was that Y/N was sitting front row.

It was the opposing team’s corner, and Teagan was shouting directions, ensuring each of her outfielders had their mark. The ball gets served in, and Jessie goes up for the header, making contact square on her forehead. However, instead of directing the ball out of the 18, her body was angled slightly toward the goal, meaning the ball veered toward Teagan instead. Luckily, it hit off the post and fell to their teammate, Hailie’s, feet, who cleared the ball toward midfield.

“Jessie, what the hell?” Jessie hears Teagan shout from behind her.

The halftime whistle blows, and Jessie couldn’t get to the locker room faster. Before she could reach her cubby, Coach Cromwell pulls her off to the side.

“Fleming, do you want to explain why it looks like you’ve never touched a soccer ball before in your life?” Coach Cromwell raises an eyebrow at her.

“I–I don’t know, nerves, I guess,” Jessie gnaws on the inside of her cheek, unable to make eye contact with her coach.

“Well, you better get your nerves sorted by the end of halftime unless you want to get benched for the rest of the game.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jessie nods, keeping her head down as she shuffles to her locker. Teagan, assigned the cubby next to her, frowns at her, brows furrowed with concern.

The second half went smoother for the midfielder. Her tackles were timed better, and she had better possession of the ball. The game remained tied at 0-0, UCLA pushing the ball into the opposing half of the field. Hailie sent a ball into Jessie’s feet, and she dribbled down the sideline, the opposing winger closing in on her. Faking left, she got the opponent to bite, leaving her a hole for Jessie to slip the ball between her legs. The crowd went nuts, you included. Jessie laid the ball off for her teammate, Ashley, who took the ball into the corner drawing a defender so the Canadian could make a run in. Ashley crossed a low-through ball into the box, which Jessie met at the top of the six, slotting it into the bottom-left corner of the goal.

You jumped to your feet, cheering as loud as you could. Noticing Jessie scanning the crowd, you give her an overexaggerated wave, to which she acknowledges with a smile. The game ends 2-0, Ashley tacking on another goal in the final two minutes. Waiting for Jessie and Teagan to complete their “good games” and post-game huddle, you stick yourself by the fence in a spot where they could easily find you.

“Y/N, you made it!” Teagan exclaims, jogging over, Jessie not far off her heels.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” you beam, “you guys did awesome! Great goal, Jess.”

Jessie’s cheeks flush as Teagan throws an arm around her, “She nearly had two.”

“You’re never letting me live that down, will you?” she groans, trying to avoid Teagan’s soft punches to her ribs.

“Teagan!” the three of you turn to see Hailie motioning Teagan back over to the bench, giggling, “Come here!”

“I’ll be back,” Teagan says, shooting Jessie an obvious wink before running off. Jessie throws her hands up in protest, grumbling something under her breath. She turns back to you, cheeks still red.

“Um, thanks for coming to watch,” she smiles sheepishly. A few yards behind her, she can hear Teagan making loud, fake coughs. Their conversation from the other day flashes through her mind. “I still have to shower, but would you, uh, maybe want to get dinner? With me, I mean?”

“Teagan and Hailie, too? Or, are you asking me out on a date?” you grin.

“I–well, I mean,” Jessie stammers, her face hot.

“Because I’d much rather it be a date,” you assure.

Relief floods through Jessie’s entire body. “Then it’s a date.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jflem #woso #woso one shot #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #woso soccer #teagan micah #womens football

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multifanhoe99 · 5 months ago

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Kinktober Day 2- Sex Machine

Pairing: The8 (Minghao) x Idol!AFAB!reader

Warnings: Nicknames (my love, baby, good girl, love, slut, bad girl, my girl), pampering, lingerie, toys, app-controlled machine, long distance, phone sex, slight dom!Minghao, orgasm denial (kinda), begging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

Dating an idol is not easy especially if they are out on a world tour but you love Minghao more than anything. You loved him back home in China so much that when he wanted to follow his dreams you followed him to Korea. Even if you weren't dating then you couldn't deal with being away from your best friend since childhood for that long so you came with him. Now, you are dating, and living together, and both are members of very successful groups.

You are very proud of him and the success of Seventeen but now that they are on tour and your group is not while you work on the next album you are cursing that success. Of course, you two talk whenever you can but some things just aren't the same over the phone. For instance when either of you needs release. He is very good at talking you through pleasuring yourself while he gets off just watching you but your fingers or the toy by itself with his words guiding you aren't always enough. That is until today. You came home and saw two packages delivered to the house you live in with Minghao. One of the packages is a huge box and the other is a smaller box that says ‘OPEN ME FIRST’ on the front. After bringing both boxes inside you open the smaller package. There is a note and another box inside.

The note reads, “ Hello my love. I know this may come as a surprise but I figured you would miss me a lot while I am gone so I planned this surprise for you. I got you some things that I think will make you miss me less while I am gone. If I timed it right we should be on a break right now so video call me when you've followed the rest of the directions. I love you! -Mingao ;p”

If you weren't curious before you definitely are now. You open the smaller box that was with this note and inside is a lingerie set that you two were looking at before he left and a new dildo. Something is different about this one though because it looks strangely familiar rather than just a standard factory-made toy. Before you can wonder about it anymore another note falls out of the lingerie set when you pick it up.

This note reads, “I hope you like this pretty little outfit I picked out for you. I want you to pamper yourself a little. Take a nice hot shower and then put this on for me. When you have done that you can open the big box. Also, don't you think that toy looks a little familiar?”

He's too much always spoiling you. You do as he says and go take a nice, hot, relaxing shower. When you get out you put on some lotion and the new set he got for you. It is his favorite color, crotchless, and fits you perfectly. You spray on a little of his cologne just to feel him close to you and go back out to the main room to open the big box. Inside the box is a machine and instantly everything clicks. You pull out the machine and like clockwork out floats another little note.

“ I know how much you miss me fucking you dumb baby so I got you this to see if it will help while I am gone. I can control it from anywhere through the app and I even made that new toy so it would be like I am actually deep in you just how you like. Go get yourself all set up and then call me so we can see if it works.”

You do as he says feeling yourself getting wetter at the thought of him doing all this just because he knew you'd miss him. When everything was ready you video-called him and he answered after a couple rings.

“Look at you baby,” he says as his greeting, “ You follow directions so we'll.” You blush at his praise, feeling a warmth spread through your body.

"I always do for you," you reply softly, biting your lip. Minghao's eyes darken as he takes in your appearance.

"Turn around slowly for me, let me see all of you," he commands gently. You comply, moving deliberately to give him a full view. When you face the camera again, his gaze is hungry.

"Perfect," he purrs. "Now, why don't you lie back and get comfortable? I want to see how well my gift works." Heart racing with anticipation, you position yourself on the bed, angling the camera so he can see everything.

"Good girl," Minghao says approvingly. "Let's start slow, shall we?" You hear a faint buzz as the machine whirs to life. The dildo begins to move, and you gasp as it enters you slowly. The cloned dildo of Minghao's cock feels the closest to the real thing than any other toy has before. You moan softly as the dildo pushes deeper, your body quickly responding to the familiar shape and size. Minghao's eyes are glued to the screen, drinking in every reaction.

"How does it feel, baby?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"So good," you breathe out. "It feels just like you."

A satisfied smirk plays on Minghao's lips. "That was the idea. Now, let's see what this machine can really do." The pace suddenly increases, making you cry out in pleasure. The dildo moves in and out with perfect precision, hitting all the right spots. You arch your back, gripping the sheets as waves of sensation wash over you.

"Look at you, taking it so well," Minghao praises, "You're so beautiful like this, all spread out for me." His words send a shiver down your spine. You moan Minghao's name, your eyes locked on his through the screen. His gaze is intense, filled with desire and adoration. The machine continues its relentless pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby," Minghao encourages, his voice thick with arousal, "Let me hear you. Show me how good it feels." Your cries grow louder, more desperate as the pleasure builds. The dildo moves perfectly inside you, mimicking Minghao's familiar rhythm. You can almost imagine it's really him there with you, driving you wild with his touch.

"Minghao, please," you whimper, teetering on the brink of release, "I'm so close."

"Not yet," he commands softly. "Hold on for me, love. I want to savor this." You whine in frustration and as you do the machine slows to a torturous pace.

“Awe,” Minghao coos, “Such a slut for my cock you can't even be patient and let me enjoy watching you huh? I want to make you cum baby but not yet. Can you be patient for me or are you going to be a bad girl after being so good for me so far?” You take a deep breath, trying to regain some control.

"I'll be good," you promise breathlessly, "I'll wait for you."

Minghao's eyes soften with approval. "That's my girl. You're doing so well for me." The machine continues its slow, teasing pace. Every thrust sends sparks of pleasure through you, building the tension without allowing release. You whimper and squirm, but force yourself to stay on the edge, determined to please Minghao.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and full of desire, "So beautiful, so obedient. I wish I could touch you right now, taste you..." His words make you shiver, imagining his hands on your skin, his lips trailing kisses down your body. The ache for his physical presence intensifies, but the toy inside you, the smell of his cologne on your skin, and his voice in your ears help him feel closer.

"Tell me how much you miss me, baby," he says, "How much you need me."

"So much," you whimper, your hips unconsciously trying to grind against the dildo for more friction, "I miss you every day, Hao. I miss your touch, your kiss, your voice in my ear. I need you here with me."

He hums appreciatively, "I miss you too, my love. Every night on stage, I imagine you're there in the crowd, watching me. It makes me dance harder, and sing better." The machine suddenly increases its speed. You can tell by his voice that Minghao is getting close to cumming as well. Your breath hitches as the machine's pace quickens, matching Minghao's growing arousal. His eyes are dark with desire as he watches you writhe on the bed.

"That's it, baby," he encourages his voice husky, "Show me how good it feels. Let me hear you."You moan loudly, no longer able to hold back. The dildo hits all the right spots, mimicking Minghao's expert touch. Your back arches off the bed as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable intensity.

"Hao, please," you beg, teetering on the edge, "I need to cum. Please let me cum."

Minghao's breath is ragged as he responds, "Not yet, love. Just a little longer. You're doing so well for me."The machine's relentless pace continues, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You whimper, your body trembling with the effort of holding back your orgasm. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, each thrust of the machine sending shockwaves through your body. Minghao's eyes are fixed on you, drinking in every reaction, every moan, every shudder.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathes, his voice strained with his own arousal, "I wish I could taste you right now, feel you clenching around me." His words send another wave of heat through you. You're so close, teetering right on the edge of release. The machine continues its relentless pace, the dildo hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

"Hao, please," you beg, your voice breaking, "I can't... I need..."

"Okay, baby," Minghao finally relents, his own breathing heavy. "Cum for me baby.”As soon as the words leave Minghao's lips, you feel the floodgates open. The pleasure that's been building crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as you cry out his name. The machine doesn't slow, prolonging your orgasm as you writhe and moan.

"That's it, baby," Minghao groans, his voice thick with arousal, "Let me see you fall apart for me." Through half-lidded eyes, you see him on the screen, his hand moving rapidly as he chases his own release. The sight of him pleasuring himself to you pushes you even higher, a second orgasm building quickly on the heels of the first.

"Hao," you whimper, overwhelmed by the sensations, "I'm gonna cum again."

"Fuck," he hisses, his movements becoming more frantic.

"Cum with me, baby," Minghao commands, his voice strained, "I want us to finish together." The machine's pace increases one final time, pushing you over the edge. You cry out Minghao's name as your second orgasm washes over you, even more intense than the first. Through the haze of pleasure, you hear Minghao's deep groan as he reaches his own climax. For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of heavy breathing from both sides of the call. The machine slows to a stop, and you whimper softly as the dildo slides out of you. You feel boneless, completely spent, but deeply satisfied.

"That was..." you start, still catching your breath.

"Amazing," Minghao finishes, a soft smile on his face. "You were incredible, love."

You blush at his praise, “Baby, if we keep doing this I think I might just survive you being away on tour,” you say with a giggle and he laughs along with you.

Minghao's eyes soften with affection, "I'm glad it helps, my love. I hate being away from you."

You stretch languidly, feeling pleasantly sore, "This was such a thoughtful gift, Hao. Thank you."

"Anything for you," he says softly, "I wish I could hold you right now."

You hum, pulling a blanket over yourself, "Soon. How much longer until you're back home?"

"Three more weeks," Minghao sighs, "But I'll call you every chance I get. And maybe we can have more fun with your new toy."

You feel a flutter of excitement at the thought, "I'd like that. I love you, Hao."

"I love you too, baby. More than anything." His smile is tender, "Get some rest now. I'll call you tomorrow."

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A/N: Honestly, thank you to the Anon who requested this. It was so fun to write and imagining the made me need a cold shower. I hope you enjoyed this kinktober is turning out to be really good so far.

#k pop smut #kinktober #x reader #kpop #kpop smut #the8 seventeen #minghao x reader #minghao seventeen #minghao smut #the8 x reader #the8 smut #seventeen smut #kinktober 2024

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moonlit-imagines · 2 months ago

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Headcanons for being Miles Morales’ sibling (Earth-42)

Earth-42!Miles Morales x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Miles42 as y/n’s older brother???”

miles and you were pretty close growing up

you two did everything together

art was your passion and you guys used to love pretending tp be critics

“this needs more color” -you, age 6

“you have no idea what you’re talking about!” -miles, also age 6ish

you’d trade pictures and “help” each other, which really helped you guys find your styles

and all was well and good for a long time. you guys had love from your parents and your uncle and they guided you well through life

uncle aaron helped you guys grow your creativity

your mom taught you compassion and empathy

your dad taught you responsibility and bravery

and after some time, miles and aaron started getting closer, more secretive

“are you hiding something from me?” -you

“no.” -miles

“yes you are”

“no im not”

“so then why am i not invited to aarons anymore? we aren’t making music or murals or whatever else, that’s weird. it’s abrupt”

“yeah, aaron’s busy”

“so then where are you going without me?”

“i can go out without you, y/n”

“you just aren’t yourself anymore”

and soon after that, your dad was killed in action and you weren’t acting yourself either

“hey, maybe its time we bring your sibling into this” -aaron

“trust me, they aren’t ready” -miles

for some time, miles had begun acting as the prowler, using his anger and grief of jefferson’s death to fuel his antics

“miles, y/n needs you. we pulled away, we have to help them” -aaron

“they should stay with mom, we have work to do” -miles

you guys began to shut each other out, you supported your mom since she lost her husband, and you two lived in blissful ignorance of what miles and aaron were working on

“hey kid, brought you some supplies” -aaron

“oh—well, uh, thanks unc” -you

“anytime” -aaron

“i’m glad miles is spending time with aaron, mijo/a. its good for him. for both of them” -rio

“just be nice if they ever spent time with me” -you

“give it time, love. everything will be alright” -rio

you grew more frustrated that miles shut you out and decided to take a look for yourself what they were doing without you

“what the hell?!” -you, walking into aarons apartment and seeing the prowler setup

“get out! no one told you to come here!” -miles

“miles, chill out. that’s your sibling. we wanted to tell you about this. we just wanted to wait until you were ready” -aaron

“ready? you two are sneaking around behind my back, doing god knows what? does mami know?!” -you

“don’t you dare tell her!” -miles

“miles, this is your chance to fix your problems with y/n. lower your voice, talk to them” -aaron

miles and you talked for hours over this, and you were heartbroken that he didn’t tell you sooner and thought he couldn’t

but you suspected he may not have wanted to because he wanted to try this alone

you really did want to be included though, it looked like an incredibly exciting gig

and who knows what kind of trouble you guys could get into together?

it was hard to keep it a secret from rio, but everyone was working out their grief in their own ways

and miles was still in one piece so far, so no harm done?

and one day you got a call from aaron to come to his place. immediately

so imagine your surprise when you saw miles strung up to the punching bag

“what are you doing?! let him down! why did you take out his braids?!” -you

“we didn’t” -miles

you looked SO confused

“who the hell is this?” -you

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out” -aaron

“hey..im miles…” -miles, from another universe

taglist: @summersimmerus // @milkiane // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #morales!reader #miles morales imagine #across the spiderverse #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #itsv imagine #itsv x reader #atsv imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #spiderman x reader #earth 42!miles morales

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ferrstappen · 2 years ago

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aren't we supposed to surprise you? l Charles Leclerc blurb

pairing: dad!Charles Leclerc x female reader.

you can find more of my version of dad Charles' here <3

summary: you somehow manage to overshadow Charles and Jo's gift.

Charles was an anxious man. Even more so since Josephine was born two years ago.

Yes, people laughed at him but he didn't care, he was going to sprint towards his daughter every time she took a wrong step and fell down, or his system would shut down whenever her lower lip trembled. Charles could communicate with his daughter through her eyes, they told him everything he needed to know in the meantime before she learned how to properly express herself.

They were an unstoppable duo, everybody knew that, but Charles was aware the reason both him and Jo could feel at ease and safe was you, and maybe he didn't remind you enough of that.

His mother and younger brother accompanied him to the various shops around Monaco, Pascale having to fight Charles to let her carry the stroll on the street, Arthur shaking his head at Charles' antics, playfully pitying his niece.

"I am going to make sure to take her to the worst tattoo parlors and pubs when she's older and then I'm showing you the images so you can die of a heart attack," Arthur teased his brother, earning a glare from Charles while being chastised by his mother, but the youngest Leclerc saw a smile on his mom's face.

Arthur winked at his niece and she giggled. Lorenzo had no chance of ever being the favorite uncle.

They entered different shops, not wanting to go for the typical jewelry and overly expensive designer clothing and accessories. No, Charles wanted to give you something you'd truly appreciate, something for you to relax and show yourself some love and distraction. Now it was turn for Arthur to carry Josephine while teasing his brother for being a simp.

A couple of books he thought you'd enjoy, different colored bath bombs, luxurious soaps and candles were some of the goods you were going to receive for Mother's Day.

Dad and baby Leclerc arrived got home greeted by the smell of coffee and some kind of pastry. It smelled like Charles' dream life; his life.

You smiled at Charles and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking Josephine from his arms, your daughter babbling about papa and maman.

It was past midnight, Josephine sound asleep on her room after both you and Charles read her a short book in Italian, trying to accustom her to the language, all while you marveled at how Charles did the different voices and intonations.

Now it was just you and him in bed, his naked chest against your own skin, while his familiar hand found its place on your thigh, drawing shapeless figures, enjoying the peace of having you with him.

"I have to tell you something," You made sure to not make eye contact with Charles, hiding your face against his neck.

Charles chuckled with your reaction, "What is it and why are you hiding, bebé?" He tried to get you to face him.

"I know this wasn't planned or anything," you began talking but know Charles felt tears on his chest, it got him worried and helped you sit on the bed while assuring you whatever it was, you'd be able to find a solution.

"Babe, I'm two months pregnant," you announced and Charles placed his hand on his mouth in astonishment.

"No, in Bahrein?" Charles blurted out and a smile appeared on your face, of course that would be his first reaction as his brain processed the news.

You didn't know what you were expecting, maybe it was a problem because Josephine was still too young, maybe Charles didn't want another baby, you never really discussed it after Jo was born, but even in the dark his glossy green eyes were shining as his hand found its known place on your neck, his thumb softly caressing your cheek before lovingly kissing you.

those one of a kind kisses, the ones that were special and held so many emotions. neither of you could hide the smile appearing, only smiling at each other, Charles still caressing your cheek.

but suddenly he dropped his hand to your thigh, an unreadable expression on his face.

"But it's mother day and you're surprising me? No, I have this whole thing planned!" Charles protested and this made your eyes tear up, now it was your time to find his lips.

God, maybe it was time for a boy to mimic his dad.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #dad!charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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janeyseymour · 10 months ago

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I Wouldn't Tell Anyone

based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".

WC: ~2.75k

Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.

The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.

“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”

“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.

“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”

“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”

Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail.

Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.

And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.

By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.

She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.

“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”

“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”

“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”

“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”

“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you tell her.

“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”

You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.

She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?

I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?

I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.

You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.

The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.

Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted.

The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.

You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.

You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.

“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”

The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”

“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”

About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”

So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.

“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.

“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.

“Since when did you move?”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.

Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”

“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”

“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.

Again, the redhead just shrugs.

“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.

“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”

Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.

“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.

Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”

“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”

“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”

“Because I found

The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”

So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.

To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.

“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.

“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.

The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”

They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.

Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.

“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.

The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.

She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”

“I know a guy.”

“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”

They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads.

Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.

“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”

“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.

“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”

Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess.

Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later.

At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”

“What?”

“You looked beautiful the other night!”

“Thanks, kid.”

“How did you get all of that?”

“I know a guy.”

Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.

“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”

“I told youse, I know a guy.”

It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.

“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.

“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”

Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.

“Hello?”

“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”

“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”

“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”

“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.

“Yeah,” she hums.

“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”

“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.

You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”

“I am if you are.”

“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”

“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”

“Eight?”

“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means.

Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse.

Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.

When you push it open, all eyes are on you.

“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.

“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.

The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.

“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.

“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”

The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”

“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”

You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.

“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”

Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction

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t-a-a-1 · 2 months ago

Text

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: Soon

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the-broken-truth · 2 years ago

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Leaving The Web [Part 4] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Summary: Imagine having a day off and deciding to spend it as Spider-Woman exploring the city. However, your plans take an unexpected turn when Miguel O'Hara attacks you and tries to take you back to your own universe by force. Luckily, you are able to rely on your ally, Venom, to take care of him. But, there is a concern that Venom's Symbiote tendencies may cause harm to your loved ones, particularly your father. Will Venom be able to control himself and keep everyone safe?

The black web connected to the next building as you swung through the in-between of the city in your Black Spider-Woman Suit; there wasn't any trouble to deal with today but it's a peaceful way to spend your day off, at least that's what Venom tells you. He was the one who wanted to get a breath of fresh air - he's content with staying inside your body during the day but he wants to have some time just swing around and you take the passenger seat for once.

"You having fun there, V?" You asked your Symbiote, only getting a chuckle from him.

"Yes, it's nice getting out and spreading out legs. You really need to exercise more; we were getting a bit chunky with all that chocolate and tater tots." V said as he pulled your body up and landed on the side of the building before sticking to it and looking at the city bustling below; some people noticed you and took your picture while others waved and sang your praises.

"You're the one that always wants to eat the leftover chocolates from Kristen's Chocolate Shop. If you found something else to eat, then we wouldn't be gaining so much weight; ever thought of that, V?" You asked in your smartass tone of voice.

"Well, if you want us to stop eating so much chocolate, maybe we can start eating the brains of the villains we capture? They are scum anyway, who would miss them?" Venom asked but you just groaned.

"We talked about this when we came to this world, V, we can't just go around & eat whomever we please. We're the heroes of this world and if people started seeing us eating people, it would make them scared of us. Do we want that, V?" You asked.

"No. No, we do not want that. I guess we will have to stick to eating chocolate." Venom said as he lifted your arm to swing to another building when your spider-sense started going off. Venom looked around but saw no one coming until he heard a yell coming from behind him; he turned your body around but you were tackled off the wall by a towering figure and headed to the ground. You looked at the body and saw the familiar dark blue and red colors that you wanted to forget more than anything and Venom caught on quickly.

"Miguel/Miguel!" You and Venom said in unison as you took control from Venom and Gorilla smashed Miguel in the back, making him grunt in pain before letting you go and crashing into the wall as you shot a web and swung away from the scene; knowing Miguel O'Hara, he was going to follow you and you need to keep the people safe from this confrontation. You swung until you reached the top of the building a few distances away from where you were and you waited - soon enough, Miguel showed up with his mask off. You had Venom remove the mask and glared at him with your brown eyes.

"What the hell are you doing back in my universe, O'Hara? There are no Anomalies for you to take this time." You demanded to know but Miguel just pulled out a bracelet, the same bracelet you left behind when you left his universe. "What are you going to do with that.

"I've waited long enough. You're coming home, mija, and there is nothing you can do to stop me this time. I know this world doesn't have any Canon events and it wouldn't collapse if you were here but I am your father and i want you home - in our universe, where you belong." Miguel said as he held to bracelet out for you to take but you just glared at him.

"V." You said.

"Yes, [Name]?" The Symbiote asked.

"Take care of him, don't kill him just hurt him enough to know that I want nothing to do with him." You said as you closed your eyes as your mask returned to your face.

"Understood!" Venom said as the symbiote took over and grew into his muscular body - showing that he wasn't going to hold back anymore. Miguel looked very horrified at the massive body before him as Venom charged at him and punched him in the face, making him drop the bracelet and skip on the roof like a stone.

"Venom! Stand down! I'm just trying to bring [Name] home!" Miguel said as he put his mask back on.

"WE WANT NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU! YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT HURT US OVER AND OVER AGAIN! MAKE US FEEL LIKE WE WEREN'T WORTHY OF YOUR LOVE AND RESPECT! NOW, WE HAVE A HOME WHERE WE ARE LOVED AND RESPECTED! WE WON'T GO BACK, LEAVE US THE HELL ALONE AND GO BACK TO YOUR WORLD BEFORE WE BREAK YOU AND SEND YOU BACK!" Venom said.

"Then, you'll have to break my body then." Miguel said.

"With Pleasure!"

#spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #daughter reader #female reader #spider!reader #venom symbiote

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somuchforahobby · 16 days ago

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whiskey on ice, sunset and vine

Summary: A runaway lady ends up in the Volkvolny, will the Captain figure out the truth of who she is? Tags: Fluff, angst Warnings: AI style correction + HOW DO SAILORS SHOWER? I am deeply perturbed Word count: 6k Read on AO3 GIFS from @goatsandgangsters ***********

you should think about the consequence

Ten days had passed since she abandoned the comforts of her assigned bedroom, fleeing into the night with nothing but a handful of jewelry and a few silver spoons to sustain her.

Crossing the Fold had been her most costly venture yet, requiring the sacrifice of an entire sapphire necklace. Now, she wandered the bustling decks of the True Sea, scanning the ships and deliberating which one to board.

The Seahorse was one possibility, though the absence of other women among its pirate crew made her skin crawl. She doubted her dignity—or her steely gaze—would be enough to keep them at bay. The Alexandrite was another option, but the captain’s thinly veiled suggestion that her only sleeping quarters would be his cabin churned her stomach. Then there was The Volkvolny , a vessel infamous for many reasons, though chief among them was the magnetic charm of its captain, Sturmhond.

She had yet to meet this enigmatic figure. After a long stroll around the docks, she finally spotted him: chin held high, hands clasped behind his back, chest puffed with confidence, and a smirk that screamed self-assurance. She approached him, keeping pace as a tall, broad-shouldered man suddenly barred her way, placing an axe at her neck. Unflinching, she extended a hand, offering a pair of diamond earrings to the captain. Her face remained shrouded by a heavy cloak.

“Please,” she said softly, her gaze fixed downward.

The captain sighed, waving a hand to dismiss the axe. Without breaking stride, he continued walking.

“I need to get to Ketterdam,” she urged, falling into step beside him.

“Not going there,” Sturmhond replied, his tone casual. His hands stayed clasped behind him, and he didn’t so much as glance her way.

“Please, I can pay you very well.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I ain't in this for the money, dear.”

As they neared his ship, her desperation flared, coloring her cheeks. “Please,” she implored, her voice faltering. “I—I can—” She swallowed hard, trying and failing to project confidence.

“If you so much as suggest any other form of payment,” he interrupted, his gaze sharp as he turned to look her over, “I’m afraid I will stop listening. Do not disrespect me or my ship.”

Finally, he came to a halt and faced her directly. “Look at me,” he commanded, his tone firm but not unkind. Beneath the cloak, her features were still obscured, but when she met his eyes—striking and green, alive with curiosity—she saw his youth. He couldn’t be more than three or four years older than her. And handsome, very.

“Why are you so desperate?” His gaze probed her face, seeking answers she dared not give.

“My—” she hesitated, clearing her throat and lowering her eyes as if burdened by shame. “My father is very ill.”

He exhaled slowly, scrutinizing her for a moment longer. “I am traveling to Bhez Ju. Hop in if it suits you.” With that, he resumed his path.

She reached out and grasped his wrist, placing the earrings into his hand. “Just take me out of here,” she murmured before slipping past him and vanishing onto the ship.

sink & drown & die

“I would like a name, at least,” the Captain said, creeping up behind her. The ship was already far out at sea, and she leaned her chin on the rough wood of the deck.

“You cannot have it,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the endless stretch of deep blue. Her thoughts drifted to the possibilities ahead and the choices left behind.

“Then I’ll call you whatever I want.”

“Seems fair, Captain.”

“All right, Duchess.”

That made her turn to him. “Pardon me?”

“It’s my best guess,” he said calmly. “There are no princesses in Ravka—just two princes. And the earrings you used to pay your way? Not the kind of thing a commoner owns.” His sharp eyes scanned her from head to toe, as if piecing together a puzzle.

“Maybe I’m Prince Vasily disguised as a woman, trying to escape my duties to the Crown,” she joked, masking the sudden wave of panic rising inside her.

Sturmhond let out a bark of laughter so loud that heads turned across the deck.

“Or maybe I am the young Prince Nikolai, the one no one can seem to find. Perhaps he now roams the world as a woman to avoid detection.”

His laughter faded, but his amused expression lingered. “I don’t think so.”

“How would you know?” she asked, smiling at the boyish gleam in his eye.

“I just would,” he replied, the flush of his recent laughter still coloring his face. “Prince Vasily isn’t nearly as pretty.”

“And you think I am?”

“I’m only saying I have eyes,” he said with a shrug, leaning on the railing in a more relaxed posture. “And I also don’t think you’re the young prince.”

“How can you be so sure? Nobody knows what he looks like. For all I know, he could walk past me, and I wouldn’t have a clue.”

“This ship has carried all sorts of troublemakers, but this would be the first time it’s carried a traitor to the Crown. Not recognizing a prince would be a punishable offense—prison-worthy, at the very least.” His grin widened, clearly enjoying their exchange.

She raised her shoulders. “What can I say? I’m just a commoner. I’ve never met any of them.”

“Is that how you know their names?” he asked, leaning closer, his green eyes sharp. “By never meeting them?”

“Everyone in Ravka knows their names.”

“I’ve never heard a commoner say the young prince’s name before.”

“Well,” she countered, “I’m speaking to a captain. I wasn’t about to call him Sobachka .”

He sighed, and the boyish smile faded. “Very well. If you’re not noble, then you stole the jewelry.”

The accusation sent a chill down her spine. “I’m not a thief.”

“Then you’re noble-born,” he said, his tone sharp, like it was something to be ashamed of. She took a step back. “And you’re running from something. I want to know what.”

“Or what?” she shot back. “Are you going to kick me off your ship? I don’t think you’re keen on turning back just to do that.”

He sighed, tilting his head with a sly smile. “Kicking you off doesn’t require the ship to go anywhere near land, Duchess.”

Her stomach turned, but she refused to flinch. Gathering every ounce of bravado she could muster, she stood her ground. “Well then, do it.” She shrugged off her cloak. “I’ve been dying for a swim anyway. It’s getting a little warm out here.”

The Captain’s gaze flicked briefly to her gown before he smirked. “I’m afraid it’s just me, dear.” He stepped closer, leaning toward her ear. “Enjoy the sun and our banter all you like, but I’ll know the truth before we reach Bhez Iu.”

there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have

Tired of her restless nights, she returned to the deck and lay down on the floor, gazing at the stars.

Of all the things she hated about life on a ship, this was the one solace that made it feel bearable.

“What are you doing?” Sturmhond’s voice interrupted her reverie as he looked down at her.

“Gazing at the stars.”

“May I?” He gestured to the spot beside her.

“Of course, it’s your ship.”

He sat down first and then, as though reluctant or uncertain, stretched out beside her. “Now, what are you looking at?”

She raised her hand, pointing toward a star cluster. “The Stag. Have you heard the stories?”

“Indulge me.”

“The stories say it’s an amplifier for Grisha. Allegedly, it can be found in Tsibeya. Hunters and Grisha alike claim to have spotted it deep in the woods.”

“Is that your favorite?” His coat lapels brushed against her forearm.

“No, it’s the Firebird.” Her hand shifted westward.

“And what’s the story for that?”

“It’s another magical creature from Grisha mythology. But no one has ever seen it. Nobody even knows what it looks like.” She turned her head to look at him, wonder brightening her eyes. “What’s your favorite?”

“The Double Eagle.” He motioned north. Two large, shining stars appeared, one above the other, each flanked by three smaller ones.

“A bit corny for you, isn’t it?” She smiled as she turned to him.

“Well, you don’t know me, Duchess.” For the first time, she heard the familiar Sturmhond edge in his tone.

“That’s true.” Her gaze returned to the horizon.

“How are you holding up?”

“I keep telling myself this is better than where I was before.”

“And where was that?”

She scoffed lightly. “Nice try.”

“The first weeks are always the hardest,” he said with a sigh. “But think of this as temporary penance for what the future holds.”

“And what does the future hold?”

“Only you can answer that.”

i can’t say anything to your face

After three days at sea, she couldn’t take it anymore. She longed for a hot bath. All she could smell was salt and fish, and she craved the long, steaming baths she used to enjoy every day.

She had asked Tamar about it, but the woman had only pointed out a corner where she could wash herself with a bucket of water. Tamar had even offered to stand guard to make sure no one disturbed her.

But she’d never washed like that before—not that she could remember, anyway. It had always been proper baths, prepared by servants. Sometimes, she would even indulge herself, asking one of them to wash her hair.

The memory of that luxury hit her hard, a reminder of the life she had left behind in her search for freedom. Whatever that word even meant for a woman in this world.

Despite the discomfort, she washed herself, feeling a small wave of relief as the grime and the smell finally disappeared. Changing into one of the few clean outfits she had left, she hung the little bag that carried her jewels at her waist and left the washroom feeling lighter, clean at last. She thanked Tamar and made her way back to the deck.

Leaning against the railing, she heard footsteps behind her and turned instinctively, fear sharp in her chest.

“Just me, Duchess,” the Captain said, raising his palms in surrender. “I see you’ve grown accustomed to our facilities.”

“As much as I can, yeah,” she replied. Her wet hair clung to her back. “I’ve never taken a bath like that before,” she admitted, her eyes drifting back to the sea.

“Ah.” The Captain paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “A unique experience, I presume?”

“Quite so,” she said, though her voice held a hint of doubt. “It made me wonder what I’m even doing here.” She hadn’t told him who she really was or why she was running, but her resolve to keep up the facade of commoner was weakening. The weight of her choices was pressing down on her, and she couldn’t help but question if she’d made the right one.

“Why did you do it?” he asked gently. When she didn’t respond, he sighed and began speaking again. “I served upfront for a while.”

She turned to him, surprised. He was looking out at the ocean.

“At first, I did it out of ego—I wanted to prove I could be strong. Then it was for patriotism. And finally, it was back to ego again,” he said with a small sigh. A confident smirk crossed his face. “When I returned home, everyone praised me, admired me—but life was dull. There was no adrenaline, just…” He paused, searching for the right words. “…obligations and duty. So, I became this. I wanted freedom, excitement, adventure, I suppose.” His eyes remained fixed on the deep blue sea.

“I wanted to be free,” she confessed, her voice quiet as she turned her gaze to the waves. “I was betrothed. Against my will, of course.” Tears pricked her eyes. “At first, it seemed like a good idea, but then I got to know him, and Saints, he’s terrifying.” She drew a shaky breath, steadying her voice. “When I saw what my life would be, I realized I didn’t want it. I wanted to travel the world, to learn, to be someone on my own. So, I ran. But now…” Her voice broke. “Now I don’t know if I made the right decision. For all I know, I could end up dead in Ketterdam or beaten by some drunk trying to take advantage of me.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “It’s stupid. I’m chasing a freedom I know doesn’t exist. Not for people like me.”

“And what type would that be?” His voice was soft, caring—absent of his usual smugness.

She glanced at him. His eyes were warm, kind. For a fleeting moment, she didn’t see the cocky Captain Sturmhond but instead a man straight out of a fairy tale. She considered telling him everything but stopped herself. “A woman, of course,” she said, keeping her response simple. It wasn’t a lie, though it wasn’t the full truth, either.

“In my territory, you will always be free, Duchess,” he said, his tone sincere. “For whatever that’s worth.”

He hesitated, as if remembering something. “There is a bath on this ship, in my cabin. Feel free to use it whenever you like. I’ll make sure you have all the privacy you need.” With that, he turned and walked away.

touching my hand in the darkened room

A few nights later she took in his offer; filled the bath with clean water and indulged herself with the expensive lavender soaps the Captain had.

The Captain’s cabin was a small corner of luxury amidst the ship’s roughness. The man clearly had taste—every detail in the room gave it away.

After finishing her bath, she stepped out of the chamber and found the Captain seated at his desk, reading.

“Hey, thank you for the—” she began, but he looked up, a smirk already playing on his lips.

“You’re very welcome. Please, use it anytime,” he replied smoothly.

“I don’t want to distract you—” she started, but a flush crept up her neck as his gaze lingered.

“Please do. I beg you,” he said, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his chin in his palm, watching her with a flirtatious smile. “Would you join me for a drink?” He rounded the desk to the bar, serving two cups before returning to his chair and placing both glasses on it.

“Gladly.” She walked toward the desk, glancing at the scattered papers. “Perhaps you could give me something to read so my days and nights on this ship become more bearable,” she said, leaning on the desk beside him.

Sturmhond leaned back in his chair, his eyes tracing her face as if memorizing it. Though desire danced in his gaze, he shrugged casually and asked, “Can you read Shu?”

“I can.” She took a sip from her ambar drink.

He nodded, pleased. “Then you can help me translate this,” he said, handing her a letter.

Her eyes scanned the paper. “Where did you get this?” she asked, recognizing it as a private communication between Shu militia.

“That’s not part of the job, Duchess. Tell me what it says.” He downed the liquid and raised from his seat to get another.

“Why do you want to know?”

“So I can sell that information to Ravka,” he replied without hesitation.

“Am I to believe you have no other interest but the well-being of your homeland?” She sat further into the desk.

“What can I say? I’m still a patriot, after all.” He stood between her legs, holding her gaze before returning to his chair to grab a pen and paper.

She sighed, studying him for a moment. “Well then, this one says the camp is stationed just outside Bhez Ju, asks about the new routes, and wishes a blessed birth for the receiver’s firstborn. Aww, you got in the way of the well wishes.” She nudged him lightly with her knee, his hand steadied her briefly as if he was incapable of letting her near.

“They got in Ravka’s way of peace first,” he said, focused on writing down her translation. “Does it say where they’ll march next?”

“No, but it’s very descriptive of the first time they attended a birth.”

Sturmhond scrunched his nose. “You can keep those details.” He flexed his fingers, signaling for her to return the letter. When she did, he signed the translation, sealed both papers in an envelope, and pressed wax onto it with a ring. “Thank you for your help.”

She straightened and gave him a mock-stern look. “Anything for my Captain.” Her eyes wandered to the maps spread across his desk. “So, how do you know where we are?” She was currently sat over the Southern Colonies depicted on the map.

He sighed, his eyes never leaving her. “It’s a mixture of facts.”

“Such as?”

He rested his jaw on the palm of his hand while gesturing loosely with the other. “Wind, time, currents, stars, squallers.”

“Where are we right now?”

He leaned forward, circling a spot near the shore of Os Kervo. “Somewhere here.”

“Are we stopping in the city?” she asked nervously.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you want to?” His eyes fixed on hers, and he leaned closer, his left hand graced hers.

She swallowed, her nerves heightened under his intense gaze. “No.”

“Then we won’t.”

“Thank you.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Anything for my Duchess.” He smirked.

She pushed away from the desk and walked to the door. “Good night, Captain.”

When she glanced over her shoulder, he was still smirking.

“Good night, Duchess.”

you should take it as a compliment

“So there was a war between the Fjerdans and the Shu?” she asked Tolya, sitting across from him on the deck.

Since the Captain had yet to provide her with any reading material, she had turned to Tolya. Unable to sleep in the common hammocks, she spent her nights immersed in the poems and sonnets he kindly shared. Every morning, they would discuss what she had read.

“Indeed. That is why the Shu warrior promised his beloved never to raise a sword again—because he would shed the blood of her kin.” Tolya’s eyes gleamed as he explained the stories behind the sonnets and the political context in which they were written. She found herself drawn in by his gentle, dark gaze.

“And did they ever get together?” she asked eagerly.

“I don’t think they did. The author was charged and hanged for treason.”

She gasped. “How terrible.”

“Almost as terrible as not having a maestre on board,” a third voice cut in, breaking the moment.

Tolya was on his feet in an instant. “Captain, I was making sure the Duchess was comfortable at your ship” he said respectfully.

“As thoughtful as always”

“Excuse me Captain” Tolya acknowledged him and then turned to her, “Your Highness.”

“Wait” Sturmhond called, a grimace on his face. “The right way to address a Duchess is ‘your grace’, ‘your highness’ is only for the royal family. Make sure you know the protocol if you pretend to court her.” The Captain fixed Tolya with a stare.

“I do not—please forgive me your grace.” Tolya’s face was flushed, he nearly ran after getting a dismissal nod from Sturmhond.

She sighed, glaring up at the Captain for ruining her peaceful morning conversation. “I like talking to him.”

“I like his work better,” the Captain replied, masking a flicker of jealousy in his tone.

“It’s nice to share a conversation about something as beautiful as poetry,” she retorted sharply.

“Then you really are one of a kind,” Sturmhond quipped, settling into Tolya’s seat across from her. “Do you like poetry?”

“Why, are you going to recite some?”

“Nah. I prefer doing rather than saying .”

Her cheeks warmed at his words. Turning away, she summoned the courage to speak. “You didn’t give me any reading material.”

“I gave you a job, but you haven’t been back since.”

She looked back at him, her eyes full of disbelief. “Am I to visit your chambers every evening and return late at night to the bunks? Not exactly the reputation I’m interested in building.”

“You could stay the night if that suits you better,” he said with a cheeky grin, his tone infuriatingly casual.

She stood abruptly, but before she could leave, he caught her wrist. “Nobody on this ship is going to speak about you, because nobody on this ship is going to speak about me. I need your help with those translations. Help me, and I’ll consider your travel paid—and return your jewels.”

“Can’t I translate on deck where everyone can see?” she countered.

He didn’t release her wrist, instead toying with her fingers with his free hand. “No. That correspondence is confidential.”

“Then why are you showing it to me?”

“Because I have a feeling you’re just as patriotic as me.”

“Then you’re mistaken.”

“Well,” he said with a shrug, “when we arrive at our destination, you can leave this ship without a coin to your name—or you can do so with a pretty pair of diamond earrings. It’s up to you.”

She scoffed. “What makes you think I’ve run out of jewels?”

His gaze quickly swept over her surroundings, but before he could respond, she cut him off with an icy “Excuse me, Captain.”

He released her hand, and she walked back to her hammock, determined to lose herself in her reading once again.

but if you’re single that’s honestly worse

She had read every book Tolya owned, and after the incident with the Captain, he no longer discussed them with her. Bored to death, she decided to head toward the Captain’s cabin in search of something—anything—to read.

She knocked once. The quietness of the sea amplified the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

He opened it, bare-chested, a sheet draped loosely around his waist. His eyebrows rose at the sight of her.

“Duchess,” he greeted, his voice a ragged breath.

She blushed and turned away instinctively. “I am sorry, my apologies—”

“Is everything okay? Do you need something?” His voice was heavy with exhaustion.

“No, uh—” She turned back to face him. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks flushed; it was clear he wasn’t alone tonight. “I was just bored and thought you might need help,” she added, though the sight of his darkening crimson cheeks made her smirk. “Translating some documents, of course. But I see you’re busy, so—good night.” She turned to leave, but a female voice rang out from inside the room, cold and clipped, telling him to send her away.

“Duchess,” he breathed again, stopping her in her tracks. She turned back, eyebrow raised.

“I do need your help with some documents,” he insisted, voice firmer now. “Give me a few minutes.”

He shut the door, and she heard muffled arguing within. A moment later, the door flew open again, revealing a slender woman glaring daggers at him.

“I am DONE with you, Sturmhond. You’ll drop me off at Os Kervo and NEVER see me again. Keep your fancy little bitch!” the woman snapped, storming out without sparing a glance at the so-called ‘fancy little bitch.’

Sturmhond leaned against the doorframe, now fully dressed, his boyish features darkened by the dim light.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she offered.

He shrugged. “I wanted to.”

Extending a hand to her, he silently invited her in. Against her better judgment, she took it.

Later, she refilled their glasses and returned to the correspondence. Sitting on the left arm of his chair, her legs dangled near his forearm.

“The General Ito will be out of office this winter,” she translated, and he scribbled it down.

“Does it say when Colonel Sazaka will take office?” he asked, leaning toward the letter in her hands.

“Hmm, yes! The first week of spring.” She pointed to a word on the paper.

Taking a sip of the amber liquid in her glass, she dropped the letter onto the desk and turned toward him, a sly smile on her lips.

“Captain,” she began seductively.

He raised his eyebrows, expectant.

“I haven’t translated anything about Colonel Sazaka yet.”

Caught, he smirked and turned away.

“You can read Shu!” she accused, angling her body toward him in mock outrage.

He covered his face with one hand, a smile tugging at his lips. “You caught me.”

Her legs were crossed between his knees, and his left hand absentmindedly traced lines against her calf.

“Why am I here, Captain?” she asked softly.

He finally met her gaze. With a tug of her ankle, she slid into his lap, her hands resting on his neck while his settled instinctively at her waist.

“I don’t like reading Shu,” he admitted, voice low.

Their faces hovered inches apart, the sweet burn of whiskey lacing their breaths. Her lips inched toward his, but he pulled back the slightest bit.

“I have certain standards” he said, his eyes half closed

“oh?” she smiled playfully, “and those are?”

“I need a name,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly.

She sighed, “You can’t have it.”

He rested his forehead against her shoulder. “Please.”

“You can call me Duchess. Or little fancy bitch. Whichever you like most,” she teased.

“A name. Just a first name,” he pressed, his breath grazing her neck—a beggar at her feet.

“I could ask the same.”

He lost the battle against his own will, kissing her neck softly before answering, “Kolya.”

“That’s not a name,” she retorted and he resumed his path on her collarbones. “But I like it. Kolya.” She smiled and looked down on him, a boyish glint shone in his eyes. “My father calls me Krasotka”

He smiled, “And he is right.” He kissed her collarbone, “I just want to protect you.”

She mused on his words, her expression softening. “That’s what my father said before selling me off to the highest bidder.”

He scoffed, biting on her neck causing her to tremble. “I can make a very high bid.”

“You wouldn’t win.” Her voice wavered, a sigh of resignation.

The tiniest laugh left his throat as he continued his path towards her mouth. “Try me,” he whispered, his nose brushing against her jaw, poised for her surrender. “Even if I do not win, I can still give him a bloody nose.” She felt his smile on her skin, “and give you a pretty good night.”

She leaned back, cradling his face in her hands. “I bet you would.” She scoffed in amusement. “But I would never let you near him, knowing the cruelties he could do to you.”

Rising from his lap, she turned and walked out of the room.

“Krasotka” He called, not ready to give up, “what makes your fiance so terrifying?”

Her hands went limb at the question, her body suddenly afraid again. She answered firmly, “Power”.

She walked out the door. This time, she didn’t look back.

you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Sturmhond had made the announcement earlier that day: they would reach the Os Kervo docks by evening and depart for Bhez Ju the following morning. Anyone who wished to could spend the night in town.

The Duchess knew the risk was too great for her. Instead, she handed Tolya two silver pieces of cutlery and asked him to bring back as many books as he could find. Then, she stayed behind in the bunks, hoping solitude would grant her some much-needed rest.

Sleep came, though briefly, until rough hands yanked her arms above her head. Her legs were pinned down, and another set of hands began to lift her dress. Panic surged through her as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Don’t make me hurt you!” one of the sailors barked. His breath reeked of alcohol. She couldn’t see the others clearly, but their laughter and slurred voices confirmed they were equally drunk. She kept screaming until a filthy hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the sound.

She writhed, tears streaming down her face, desperate to break free.

“Where are the jewels?!” the man hissed, his face inches from hers. Her sobs came uncontrollably now. “Tell me, and I won’t hurt you,” he continued, voice venomous. “Easy, princess. Just tell me what I want to know. Understood?”

She nodded, trembling, trying to steady her breath.

When he removed his hand from her mouth, she screamed again.

“You little bitch!” He slapped her hard across the face.

Then, suddenly, a gunshot shattered the chaos. Three heavy thuds followed, and the weight pinning her down vanished.

She lay motionless, too numb and terrified to open her eyes. Her body trembled uncontrollably. She didn’t dare move, certain the pain would start any moment—or that she was already dead.

“Krasotka?”

The familiar voice pierced the haze. She was alive. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she felt the cold air on her exposed legs. Curling into herself, she hugged her knees tightly and finally opened her eyes.

Sturmhond knelt beside her, his face etched with concern and gentleness. Without thinking, she threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him as sobs wracked her body.

His hand rested on her back, steady and reassuring. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re safe now.”

She glanced past his shoulder and saw Tolya standing nearby. Then her eyes fell on the scene around her: the two men who had pinned her down lay unconscious, while the one who had lifted her dress had a fatal gunshot wound to the head.

“Kolya” she murmured, leaning her head against Sturmhond’s shoulder.

“Can I take you out of here?” he asked softly.

She nodded against his shoulder, and he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to his cabin.

He set her down carefully on the bed and took a step back. “Would you like to wash?”

She nodded.

“I’ll find something for you to wear,” he said. “Do you want me to bring Tamar or one of the girls?”

She shook her head.

He sighed, opening and closing a few drawers before returning with two pieces of soft cotton fabric. “This is the best I can do for now. I’ll ask Tamar to find you something in town tomorrow. Will that be all right?”

Kneeling before her, he searched her eyes.

She looked up at him and nodded.

She emerged from the bath dressed in Sturmhond’s oversized clothes—a military green shirt that fell to her upper thighs and matching pants that barely clung to her hips. The loose fabric concealed the small bag tied around her waist.

He was waiting for her outside, seated at his desk.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am. Thank you.”

“You should stay here until we reach Bhez Ju,” he said. “I’ll take the bunks.”

“Thank you, but you should stay. I’ll sleep on the chair.”

He sighed. “I may not look like it, but I am a gentleman. You will do no such thing.”

“If you’re not here, I’m just as vulnerable as I am in the bunks,” she countered. “It’s you they respect, not the cabin.”

“And what about your reputation?” he asked, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“I’d rather be a living whore than a dead virgin.”

Her bluntness struck him silent for a moment. “Fair enough,” he finally said, standing. “But there is one thing I need from you, Duchess.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“A few days ago, you announced to the entire ship that you’re carrying valuable jewels,” he said, clearing his throat. “I need to know what you have, and if you wish, I can keep them in my safe for the rest of the trip.”

She stood, lifting her shirt just enough to untie the small bag from her waist. His gaze darted away, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. Once she was covered again, she handed the bag to him.

He placed it on his desk, undoing the red ribbon and carefully opening the velvet pouch. His breath caught as the jewels spilled onto the wood.

“How did you get this?” he demanded, holding up her engagement ring. The kindness in his eyes had been replaced by urgency and something darker.

“I didn’t steal it.”

He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “How did you get this?”

“How do you think?” she replied sarcastically. “A man on one knee, as usual.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“There’s nothing usual about the Crown Prince kneeling.”

Her breath hitched. “How—” Her mind raced for an explanation. “The whole ‘Duchess’ thing is funny and all, Captain, but I don’t know where you got the idea I was engaged to the Crown Prince.” She forced a confident tone.

“I know because I’ve seen this ring every day of my life.”

Her heart pounded as she held his gaze. The realization struck her like a blow. “Wha—how?”

“This is my mother’s ring,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “I can’t let you keep it.”

Her world tilted. All this time, she had believed herself free, only to find the chains tightening around her. “It’s mine!” she snapped, reaching for the ring.

He stepped back, his expression firm. “It’s one of the most precious heirlooms of the Lantsov dynasty. I can’t allow you to pawn it off for some muddy apartment in Ketterdam, Princess.”

“It was given to me!”

“Yes, for you to marry Vasily! Not to give away at some ratty city across the world.”

“Captain—Nikolai,” she corrected herself, his name feeling foreign on her tongue. His lips tightened. “I beg you, don’t take me back there.”

“I wish I didn’t have to. But I can’t let you keep this, and I certainly can’t leave you in Bhez Ju. You could be recognized, kidnapped, or worse, become a prisoner in a war bargain. No, you’ll stay with me, and we’ll return to the Palace.”

His words carried the weight of a prince, not a privateer. The sadness in his eyes was undeniable.

“I must take you back to Os Alta,” he finished.

“How is it that yesterday you were ready to fight my fiancé, and now you want to hand me back to him?” She asked, hurt.

“I can do both, darling.”

Her defiance flared. “I’ll go out there and tell everyone who you really are. Let’s see how your crew feels about their beloved Captain being just a spoiled prince.” She stormed toward the door, but he blocked her path, his back to the latch.

“You will do no such thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because then we’d both be prisoners on this ship.” He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, his touch measured. “You must return. We both have a duty to Ravka.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Yet I’m the only one who’ll lose control over my own body, forced to bear children for a monster.” She turned away from him, retreating to the bed, her back to him.

unless you wanna come along

"Krasotka." Nikolai sat at her feet on the bed.

Days had passed since their fight, and since then, she had stayed in the cabin day and night. Nikolai brought her food, and Tolya brought her books. But her sadness and anger wouldn't let her leave.

Every night, the Prince would try to talk to her, but she ignored him just the same.

"Rodnaya," his voice weary, she lay with her eyes open, not looking at him. "Zolotse, please."

"Calling me your playboy pet names doesn't change the fact that you're taking me to my deathbed right now, sakharok ." She bit back her anger.

His eyes showed pain. That too-clever fox nowhere to be found. "I don't want you to marry him either."

She sighed sarcastically. "You could've fooled me."

"It is my duty."

She took a long breath. "I wish I were having this conversation with the resourceful Captain Sturmhond. He'd know what to do. But sweet little sobachka will only do what his mother wants." She turned her back to him, tears welling in her eyes.

"Sturmhond would ask you to marry him."

The mere words stung her head. She sat up instantly to look him in the eye.

"He would make a stop at Os Kervo, overpay some monk to get you married to him. Claim you were both drunk, didn't know who you were, and consumed the marriage, of course. He'd send a letter to Os Alta, then ride there and deal with it." There was determination in his eyes.

She weighed the plan. "You offer me another cage."

"A kinder and wider cage, yes."

"And the reputation of a whore."

"A wife who can travel with her husband on any of his quests, see the world alongside him. Yes, a wasted lady who married the first drunken idiot in front of her, but didn't you say you'd rather be a living whore?" His smugness returned, a familiar smirk on his face. "I'd also become an irresponsible idiot who stained his family's honor for lust."

She sighed, suddenly touched by his offer. "You'd stain your honor to save me from your brother?"

He swallowed, suddenly nervous. "I'm willing to stain it just to hold your hand."

Her hands circled his neck in an instant; she clung to him as tears streamed down her face, but with a completely different sentiment than before. "Thank you."

His hands caressed her back softly, unsure of how much touch he was allowed. "Anything for my Duchess."

She pulled away from him and laughed, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Thank you, Kolya."

"You must know," he murmured, feigning shame, "you'll get a smaller ring, since you won't be queen and all." He searched her eyes carefully.

She laughed, the sound filling the room with a new lightness. "Can I be co-captain?"

"Ahhh," he searched for words but failed at the sight of her teasing smile.

"Yes, Captain?" she insisted.

"You can be whatever the fuck you want when you're with me." He answered with all the smugness of Sturmhond, though a sign of Kolya's kindness was hidden in his eyes.

"Come here." She flexed her index finger. He obliged. "Care to put your plan into action?"

His eyes traveled from her eyes to her lips, a smirk already halfway formed. "So desperate?"

"Shut up." She kissed him fiercely. He wrapped his arms around her and pushed her against the mattress.

"Can I get a name now?" he asked, gasping for air.

She smiled against his lips. "Yeah, you can."

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfic #captain sturmhond

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mysticallystilinski · 1 year ago

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ROSES [ coriolanus x fem!reader ]

desc. EVERY DAY CORYO GAVE YOU ROSES, BUT ONE WAS DELIVERED TO A SONG-BIRD

has : angst, jealousy, unloyal coryo, ooc!coryo (kind)

a new day meant a new delivery of roses. coriolanus stopped by your house away from the capital to hand deliver his fresh picked roses from grand’mam. she has especially started to plant just for you, since she knew it was coryos specialty.

a knock was brought upon your door at exactly 12:00 pm sharp each day. this day in hand, coryo had been running a little late. you knew it was the arrival of the hunger games tributes so he had tons of pressure upon him.

you had decided to venture to try to find him, he was supposed to be back at your place by 11:00 am. your first stop was the train station. it had been worn down, and only used in the most certain of cases. it was known that all the tributes would have been dropped off there and then taken away.

coryo wasn’t supposed to be there, he was supposed to be with the other mentors at the capital. you arrived at the station to find guards surrounding the platform. they knew you as you were the daughter of panems president. you approached them slowly, not batting an eye. “hello miss y/n, what are you doing here?”, they questioned.

you were faced with a problem, either lie to them, or face the truth. “father said i could take a look at the tributes before they are set up” you responded. it was an obvious lie, but they had to believe you. “go right ahead”, they motioned towards the platform.

farther down the platform, you could see a tall figure with bleach blonde hair. you smiled in relief as coryo was just waiting for his tribute, lucy gray. the train slowly approached and came to a sudden stop. the guards stayed positioned at their designated places. a few of the guards opened the train doors to reveal the tributes.

out stepped lucy gray, the song-bird. her long black hair flowed in the wind, and coryo had stopped in his tracks. your face contorted when he was met with her. a bright smile appeared on his face as he dug into his pocket. “for you”, he stated handing over a bright white rose. she had plucked a petal from its bud, “when i was little, my momma used to bathe me in butter milk and rose petals.”

lucy slightly smiled when faced with the memory. her smile caused coryo to light up at the thought. another tribute fell upon the platform from the height of the train. “goodluck with that gorgeous”, she smirked. she took the rose from him and headed off to where the guards directed her. he stared at her as she made her way past you and gave a devilish smirk.

it was known that you and coriolanus had been together, even by the tributes. it wasn’t a coincident that lucy had been flirting with coryo. he locked eyes with you as soon as lucy had brushed her way upon you. you looked down when you heard footsteps approach you at once.

the color of your dress, a light pink became blurry as your eyes filled with tears. you felt coryos hand grasp upon yours. you lifted your head up to be astonished with an angry coriolanus. “what are you doing here”, he hushed. he tightened your hand and took you to a private corner. “i was just trying to look for you.” he looked around as your voice cracked through your sobs.

“why did you give her that rose?”, you looked up at him. “i was just trying to be nice y/n, she is my tribute after all”, he whispered harshly. your eyes swelled up as your tears began to dry. “i have to leave y/n, i need to go help lucy.” you felt him ungrasp your hand. you looked up upon him, and stared into his eyes.

he unlocked eye contact with you and was gone in a flash. you saw him headed towards the carriage full of tributes. when the guards weren’t looking, he hopped in and the back was instantly shut. it was hard dealing with coryo sometimes, you thought while standing alone in the corner. he isn’t the same as he used to be.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games master list #the hunger games #hunger games #hunger games x reader #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games fic #hunger games fandom #tom blyth #president snow #coriolanus x y/n

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adoresmiles · 6 months ago

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His Concealed Obsession.

Chapter Four

Not me with another update! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and don’t forget to leave feedback. You guys are keeping me going through my depression right now. Love all 🫶🏽

Tags: @violetmuses @onlyrealjoy @unicorndelulu @liatreads @sunrisesfromthewest @deja-r @idontknowwhak @jacobscipioswoman @armandoaretasfc @aaronhotchnerlover @simpledopeme @slashervalley @nobodygetsza @nelo0wesker @peaxhygirl

Kanani

“This is a really nice place that you have here Nani.”

“I could have sworn you been here. Didn’t you help and uncle mucus help me move in?”

“Your uncle Marcus did , Mike was out doing something with Rita that day.”

“Oh yeah I remember now , trying to figure out who shot you . Did you ever find out who and why they did it ?”

Kanani asked him as she rest her body against her kitchen counter. Mike begin coughing as her father just laughed. She was confused on what was funny , she knew the situation was touchy since KP and their dad had tagged along with Marcus , Mike and AMMO . When they got back , nobody had mentioned anything about the mission so Kanani never brought it up until now. She was genuinely concerned about the outcome.

“I didn’t know a simple question could trigger someone to choke on their own spit.”

“It just caught me off guard that’s all. But yes I did end up catching the person who attempted to kill me.”

“Twice, your son tried to kill you twice Mike.”

“Your son tried to kill you?! Wow he didn’t even succeed at that. What did you do to him ?”

“Since when you become an investigator?”

“My mom is a dispatcher it’s in my blood. Anyways whatever you did to your son, you deserved it.”

“Damn baby girl that’s cold. Mike had a job to do just you and I both , you can’t let your personal feelings get in the way of that.”

“You’re right and I agree with you , but his son almost took him out twice, not once but twice and he damn near got lucky with them too.”

“Well Nani I ended up putting his mother in prison.”

“Oh that’s low , I would want to kill you too!”

“Really Nani?”

“Yup! Dad if you were to put my mother and Jax mother in prison , I’m killing you. There’s no way in hell you’re going to put my mom behind bars. You could have placed her on probation or something but you put his mom behind bars. Yeah I wouldn’t even think twice about putting you in a body bag.”

“Good to know that we will need to place on the watch list.Mike please remind me to place my child on the watch list.”

“I’m just saying , if you ever think about putting my mother and Jax mom behind bars I am going to kill you. I won’t even hesitate to kill you either uncle Mike. So snitch if you want to.”

“I don’t got anything to do with this. This is between you and your bald headed father.”

“If you didn’t put your son mother behind bars we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. In fact if you guys didn’t just randomly showed up , the conversation wouldn’t have even taken place. But with me being smart as hell , you guys want to ask me questions about yesterday shooting . So stop beating around the bush and start the interrogation process.”

“So in your own words what happened yesterday?”

"Umm I don't know , we were out shopping and then I went outside to call back KP and next thing you know I'm tackled down to the ground by some random man in Miami while bullets were flying."

"Are you sure that's all?"

"Yup , that is all."

"Kanani Souline , this is a serious matter. You almost lost your damn life out there girl."

"Your best friend told us that there was a guy following you guys yesterday.”

“Now that is true , some guy was at the store and when we went to check out he was no longer there.”

“How did he look?”

“Somewhat tall , my complexion of not a little bit darker, really gorgeous colored eyes and a low mini Afro. Oh he had zero tattoos too as well.”

“That’s exactly what the other two females said too. Don’t say anything but this is the same guy your mom took a 911 call from a couple of years back.”

“About the young girl?”

“Yup that exact one. We’re going go ahead and arrest him tonight. KP saw him this morning doing the same thing but at the beach. He didn’t try anything with you and friend right ?”

“He just kept staring at us , didn’t get close to us.”

“Good. Listen Kanani , I really need you to be on your toes okay? Your neighbor just got cold blooded murdered , you were being followed and almost died yesterday. Your mother and I are not trying to burry you under the ground yet.”

“He has a good point Kanani. I can’t be sitting at a funeral with Marcus crying on my shoulder like he did at your graduation.”

“Yeah I heard him from the stage , uncle Marcus have to get his emotions in check.”

“Trust me , we all do and that’s part of the reason why we left him back the house. He doesn’t know that you almost got shot yesterday, but he does know about your neighbor.”

“Yesterday events will have him snotty nose crying in the middle of my living room.”

“We don’t need- I just know these kids aren’t knocking on my door again. I’ll be back, you guys can grab you some snacks.”

The two men watched as Kanani jogged out of the kitchen to answer the door. As she was chatting to the unknown person at the door , they both looked over at with raised eyebrows before Daniel walked over to the table and search through the flowers. Unbeknownst to them Kanani was as standing behind the wall as she listen their conversation.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you man.”

“I’m just being curious on who sent my daughter flowers. They sent her favorite flowers at that as well.”

“Maybe she bought them herself, you know my niece is big on self love. You and storm made sure she loved herself more than anyone else.”

“You right she could have did that but she didn’t . I know she didn’t because they are still in the delivery vase. Kanani has her own vases that she uses when she gets flowers. Trust me I know my child Mike.”

“Well did you see the necklace around her neck?”

“Of course I did but I didn’t want to say anything to make it obvious.”

“You sure she doesn’t have a boyfriend ?”

“If she did , she would have told the boys about it by now. Hell even Storm would have known before m-"

“Aww now look at what I walked into . My own dad looking through my stuff while his best friend sits and watch.”

“I told him not to do it.”

“Why are you looking through my things?”

“I wasn’t looking through your things. I was looking for the key that I left over here last week.”

“You wasn’t even home last week dad. Mom and you were on your way to Greece for your wedding anniversary.”

“Damn she got you right there.”

“I was just being curious on who bought you these flowers . They’re freshly picked and you never leave them in the vases.”

“Well all you had to do was just dad I would have told you. But no you wanted to be sneaky and go snooping around.”

“I’m not trying to get my head chewed the hell off by you today. So I’m just going to ask you this question, where did you get that necklace from?”

“Okay just like this gift bag , this necklace was a gift.”

“A gift from who? Because it looks madly familiar.”

“Familiar how?”

“My son has the exact same necklace Kanani. The same letter , chain length and everything. Are you sure that the motorcyclist wasn’t my son.”

“How would I know? I don’t even know how your looks. Let alone I never even met your son Mike.”

“Kanani there’s no need for you to get defensive.”

“You shouldn’t be talking right now. Especially when you were snooping around in my house. Do you two not trust me or something?”

“When you put it in that way , to an extent there’s a lack of trust. Your neighbor got murdered, you got followed and then you got shot at. You’re getting flowers and gifts from an unknown person that nobody knows about. Hell for all I know you could be wearing Mike son chain!”

“I’m a grown ass women! I don’t have to tell you about my personal life. I’m not like Jaxon who tells you every little detail of his life. You did this to KP and I refuse to be your next victim.”

“I think that’s enough Nani , you don’t want to say anything that you could regret.”

“No because he doesn’t see that whenever he does shit like this it leaves in impact on us. KP recently got his locks changed because he caught you snooping around in his own house twice . You questioned him on his love life . Hell you just did that today and you turn around say that you don’t trust me.”

“My relationship with you and KP are completely different and more complicated than Jax and I relationship.”

“You and Jax are close because he tells you every single detail that does on in his life. You two have no boundaries. KP and I have boundaries, there’s things we want you to know and things that we feel like you shouldn’t know.”

“If I’m dating someone and if he’s getting me something then that’s my business. Nobody but mine and you should respect. You don’t see mom come over , snooping around and asking me questions about my personal life and my whereabouts. She trust me and respect my boundaries.”

“That’s your mother not m-"

“Your perception of me is only a reflection of you. You and uncle Mike can escort yourselves out.”

#armando aretas #armando aretas fanfic #armando aretas imagine #armando aretas smut #armando aretas x black reader #armando x reader #bad boys #bad boys for life #bad boys ride or die #jacob scipio #adoresmilesfanfic #adoresmiles #poc

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drewharrisonwriter · 6 months ago

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Lifeline - Ch. 5: Out of the Frying Pan

Pairings: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader, referred to as “Honey”

Series Summary: After basically being dropped and rejected by every PR agency in Hollywood for being such a huge liability, Dieter Bravo must work on resetting his public image in the most unexpected ways.

Author's Notes: I have been working on this fic on and off for the past year, and this story is a little personal to me. Yes, I am trauma dumping in some scenes lol but I also want to say that there will be so many unrealistic things about Hollywood, actors, and PR/Marketing agencies here, to which I apologize.

Warnings: Angst, a little drama, lots of flashbacks. More warnings to come as the story progresses.

Read this on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dieter spent the rest of the weekend drifting through his spacious Sherman Oaks home, a place that now felt more like a cage than a sanctuary. The house was filled with the echoes of a life he was trying—and failing—to put back together. He wandered from room to room, aimlessly flipping through scripts he couldn’t focus on and scrolling through social media feeds that only deepened his sense of isolation. The events and appearances were starting to feel like a routine, but the moments in between were unbearable. Dieter’s thoughts kept circling back to the gala, replaying every second of Honey’s smile and Phil’s hand on her back.

He tried distracting himself with old habits, but every familiar vice felt hollow. By Saturday afternoon, Dieter was staring at his phone, debating whether to call someone—anyone—to break the monotony. But he knew Mitch would hear about it, and he wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. So he settled on the one thing that still gave him some sense of purpose: art.

Dieter had always been drawn to art, sketching, and painting whenever he needed an outlet. It was something he rarely showed others, the way he kept his love of music so close to himself, it’s a space within his own space where he could express all the things he couldn’t say or sing out loud.

When he saw a post about the weekend art class at the community center where he spent creating Mother’s Day cards with the kids a few weeks ago, he grabbed his keys without a second thought, convincing himself it was just boredom. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go, and teaching kids art sounded like a better use of his time than staring at his empty walls, waiting for the hallucinogens to kick in and change him.

When he arrived, the room was already set up with easels, watercolor palettes, and brushes laid out neatly on the tables. The instructor, a kind-faced woman named Maria, welcomed him with a smile, thrilled to have an extra set of hands. The kids were buzzing with excitement, chattering about the different techniques they wanted to try. Dieter slipped into the familiar rhythm easily, helping mix colors and showing a few kids how to blend their washes for soft, dreamy skies.

“You’re really good at this,” Maria remarked, watching as Dieter demonstrated a simple wet-on-wet technique to a group of wide-eyed kids.

Dieter shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Thanks. I used to do this a lot… it’s been a while.”

He found himself losing track of time, immersed in the act of creating something beautiful out of nothing. The kids painted flowers, sunsets, and abstract swirls, each one pouring their imagination onto the paper. Dieter worked alongside them, his brush moving instinctively as he let the watercolor flow. Without really thinking, he began to paint a silhouette—a figure standing alone, surrounded by warm, soft colors that bled into each other like a hazy memory.

As he painted, the figure began to take shape: a woman, standing at the edge of a field, her back turned as if she were walking away. The scene was familiar, almost painfully so. Dieter’s brush moved more deliberately now, adding delicate touches of light and shadow. He painted her hair catching the sunlight, the faint outline of a red dress that bled into the sky. It was Honey, captured in the soft, dreamlike hues of his memory.

When he finished, Dieter stepped back, staring at the painting in silence. It was both the best thing he’d ever made and the most bittersweet to look at. The image of Honey standing alone, forever just out of reach, hit him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t meant to paint her, but there she was—etched in every stroke, every wash of color, every suppressed feeling he couldn’t let go of.

He took the painting home, propping it up against the wall in his living room. Dieter stared at it for hours, unable to tear his eyes away. It felt like he was staring at all the things he’d lost, every mistake he’d made, and every moment he wished he could take back. He wanted to call Honey, to tell her what he’d made, but what was the point? She had her life, and he was stuck in the wreckage of his own.

As the hours passed, Dieter’s resolve crumbled. He ordered a few lines of coke, the old familiar sting of rebellion luring him in. He told himself it was fine—he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere anyway. He was on house arrest, in a sense, and no one would know. He washed it down with whiskey, drinking until the edges of his memories blurred and the painting became just another part of the wall.

By Sunday night, Dieter was sprawled on his couch, staring blankly at the ceiling, his mind a fog of regret and numbness. He didn’t want to think about Honey, about Phil, or about the mess he’d made of his life. He just wanted to forget, even if it was just for a little while.

–

Dieter woke to the sound of frantic whispers, a dull, persistent buzzing that cut through the fog of his hangover. He blinked against the harsh light streaming through the windows, his head pounding with the familiar aftermath of too much booze and bad decisions. Slowly, the room came into focus—the mess of empty bottles, the painting of Honey still leaning against the wall, and, standing right above him, Mitch and Honey, their faces tight with a mix of anger, fear, and something Dieter couldn’t quite place.

“What the hell, Dieter?” Mitch’s voice was sharp, laced with panic in a way Dieter hadn’t heard before. “What were you thinking?”

Dieter struggled to sit up, his vision swimming. He ran a hand over his face, trying to piece together the night before. “What are you doing here?” he mumbled, his words slurred.

Mitch’s expression darkened, his eyes flashing with a combination of anger and concern. “Your assistant called me. He found you like this, passed out with bottles everywhere. He thought you’d overdosed, Dieter! He thought you were dead!”

The words hit like a slap, jolting Dieter into a clearer awareness of the mess around him. He looked to Honey, hoping for some sign of understanding, but her face was pale, her eyes glassy with restrained emotion. She stood a step back from Mitch, her arms crossed tightly, as if trying to hold herself together. There was no judgment in her gaze, only a deep, haunting sadness.

Dieter’s stomach churned as he tried to stand, the reality of their presence sinking in. “I wasn’t—Jesus, I wasn’t trying to do anything. I just… I just had a couple of drinks.”

Mitch’s voice rose, a mix of frustration and desperation. “A couple of drinks? Look around, Dieter! It looks like you went on a bender. Do you even realize what this looks like? Do you understand how close we were to calling the damn paramedics?”

Dieter’s temper flared, his defenses kicking in. “It’s my house, Mitch. My fucking house! What do you expect me to do? I’m not allowed to go anywhere, can’t see anyone, can’t do anything. I’m stuck here like a damn prisoner, and now you’re pissed because I had a drink in my own home?”

Honey finally stepped forward, her voice soft but trembling with urgency. “Dieter, this isn’t just about the drinking. It’s about what happens when you let yourself spiral. We’ve seen this before—we’ve seen you push yourself to the edge, and every time, it gets harder to pull you back.”

Dieter looked at her, his chest tightening. The last time he’d overdosed, it had been on the set of Cliff Beasts 6, and it was Anika who’d brought him back. The memory of waking up in a haze, surrounded by horrified faces, was a wound that never fully healed. But this—this was different. This was just a weekend alone, a moment of weakness, not a full-on catastrophe. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“And how would you know about pulling me back?” he challenged, his voice dripping with bitterness. “You weren’t there!”

Her voice wavered, the vulnerability breaking through her professional facade. Honey’s eyes were wet, but she blinked back the tears, refusing to let them fall in front of him. She had watched Dieter unravel from afar, powerless to intervene, haunted by every glimpse of the man she once knew losing himself in the public eye. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, knowing you couldn't stop it, feeling every impact from a distance.

Mitch stood there, absorbing the tension between them, and something clicked in the back of his mind. He had known Honey was deeply invested in restarting Dieter’s public image—it was why she was the best at what she did—but the way she spoke, the emotion in her voice, suggested something more.

There was a history between them, buried beneath years of separation and, what seemingly, to him, sounds like, regrets. Mitch had always assumed Honey’s dedication was purely professional, that she does the same for each client she handles which is why came highly recommended, and maybe she does– but now, watching the two of them, he couldn’t ignore the sense that he was missing a crucial piece of their story.

He cleared his throat, his voice softer but edged with curiosity. “I didn’t know you two... I didn’t realize you’d known each other that long.” Mitch hesitated, his instincts telling him there was more to this than either of them had let on.

Honey shot him a brief, guarded glance, her professional mask slipping back into place, but it was too late. The crack was there, and Mitch had seen it. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, unwilling to expose the depth of her past with Dieter. It wasn’t something she could explain in a room full of raw nerves and simmering resentments. It was years of connection, of love, of hurt, and everything they never resolved.

Dieter noticed Mitch’s confusion, his own expression hardening as he pushed back. “It doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other,” Dieter said, his voice strained. “None of that matters anymore.” But the crack in his voice told another story, one of a man who couldn’t quite let go of what once was.

Dieter stared at her, anger and shame roiling inside him. He wanted to push back, to scream that he was fine, that they were overreacting, but the truth was lodged in his throat like a jagged stone. They weren’t just mad; they were terrified. Honey’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears, and Dieter could see the pain in every line of her face.

Mitch pressed his palms to his forehead, his voice breaking. “Do you think I want to get a call that you’re dead, Dieter? Do you think I want to be the one to have to tell the world that you’re gone because you couldn’t keep yourself together for one weekend? We’re not just fighting for your career; we’re fighting for you. And you keep throwing it in our faces.”

Dieter clenched his fists, feeling cornered, ganged up on, the walls closing in around him. “I didn’t ask for any of this! You think I’m happy here? Alone in this big-ass house with nothing but ghosts? What do you expect me to do, huh? I’m not allowed to fuck up because everyone’s waiting for me to fail. I’m just a goddamn headline waiting to happen.”

Honey stepped back, her composure finally cracking. She wiped at her eyes, her voice trembling. “Dieter, we’re not your enemies. We’re not here to control you. We just… we just don’t want to lose you. Not like this.”

Dieter’s anger peaked, his voice ragged as he lashed out. “Well, maybe you should stop trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. I didn’t ask for this intervention. I didn’t ask for any of you to play babysitter. I’m not a fucking child, and I don’t need you hovering over me, waiting for me to mess up. I can handle my own damn life.”

The room fell into a strained silence, the air thick with tension and hurt. Mitch shook his head, his frustration palpable but tempered by a deep, unspoken worry. He grabbed his jacket, his voice low but firm. “You’re right, Dieter. You are handling your life. But if you keep this up, there won’t be much left to handle.”

Honey lingered for a moment longer, her eyes locked on Dieter’s, filled with a sorrow that went beyond professional disappointment. She wanted to reach out, to pull him back from the edge he was so determined to stand on, but she knew she couldn’t be the one to save him. Not anymore.

“Just… please, Dieter,” Honey said softly, her voice breaking. “Take care of yourself. If not for you, then for the people who still care.”

Dieter watched them go, his heart heavy with the weight of their words. As the door closed behind Mitch and Honey, the silence returned, cold and suffocating. Dieter stared at the painting of Honey on the wall, its colors vivid and haunting, a reminder of the life he kept pushing away. He sank back onto the couch, burying his face in his hands, the reality of his choices crashing down on him.

He was alone again, trapped in a cycle of his own making, and for the first time, Dieter wasn’t sure how to break free.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedropascal #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fan fiction #pedro pascal fan fic #pedrohub #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fan fic #dieter bravo x #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x y/n

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shirefantasies · 11 months ago

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Hello!! I saw that you're temporarily open for matchup requests so I hope that I'm not too late with this! :) specifically from LOTR please~

I'm female, 5'7", Virgo, ISFP, with stronger preference for males. I have pale skin with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. My wardrobe mostly consists of darker colors, my favorite combos being black with red or pink.

I consider myself empathetic and honest. I am reserved most of the time, only ever talking if someone else initiates the convo, though I can go on and on about my hyperfixations and interests. Like even when I'm with a group of friends, I'd stay quiet most of the time and just listen so I may come across as a bit socially awkward. I've been told I'm a good listener and so I end up being someone many confide in or as someone who becomes stuck in the middle of a conflict. I am a night owl and get easily exhausted or even irritated when I'm out and it's crowded so I definitely need time and space on my own to recharge after a long day. I suppose among love languages, I lean to using words of affirmation. When I do have enough energy, I also like to cook and bake for my family and friends (and get upset if it doesn't end up turning right).

I really like animals, especially big cats, dogs and wolves. My favorite genre of fiction is horror so sharing scary/ghost stories would be my favorite group activity. My sense of humor tends of be on the dry, sarcastic side. My preferred methods of workout are swimming, badminton, and walking. When I get bored, I tend to doodle and hum. I don't consider myself a good singer and I'd only get the confidence to sing in front of others if I was a bit tipsy (I don't drink much, I am so lightweight it's not even funny and if I do, I stick with cocktail or beer).

In video games that involve combat and exploration, I tend to rely on speed and stealth (my footfalls are actually quiet irl too). Among weapons, I prefer using swords (dual wielding, if available), though having a bit of magic would be fun to use too (especially if you can set things on fire) :3

congrats on the 300 followers!

You are not at all! Thank you for waiting between my recovery buffer posts & older matchups! So here we go now love! Your match is…

Legolas!

Some people joke what a funny couple you are due to you both seeming so quiet, but in truth you are drawn to each other’s peace. Legolas is drawn to your gentle presence, the light falls of your steps upon the bank of the river where he meets you, water flowing at your feet. You are not the only one swimming that day, but you cut such a majestic figure as you move gracefully through the water, emerging with illuminated droplets descending from your dark hair. Since that very first moment you stuck in Legolas's heart.

He loves the way you hum as you work, dark skirts swirling about the floor as you swish through the kitchen. A smile plays on his lips as he compliments the work you've let out to cool and you drily tease him about stealing it. Instead, he offers to help hand it out and you are grateful to save your energy. Normally you do not prefer company in the kitchen, but this elf's presence is calming rather than draining. Your motions and his assume a rhythm unbroken by distraction.

He runs into you out in town, smiling at the large dog following at your heels while you carry your basket. You look content as you go to market, purchasing all you need. Catching the way your hand runs wistfully over a small ornately bound book, he finds his feet carrying him to market as well, his hands delving into pockets and being rewarded with the weight of a tiny tome. The following day's trip to your kitchen is met not with wry humor, but wide smiles and sheepish revelations of art. "You may think them the smallest of sketches, but to me I see a connection to this world." "Is that your way of saying you can't draw?" Yet another smile you've drawn from the elven prince. "You've caught me there."

When orcs attack your village, his first thought is to get to you, your hearth and your dog and all your little captures of your surroundings, and let any who dare trifle with it know it has a blade and a bow behind it. Boots thudding lightly as always against dirt, then stone, he arrives outside your home to see you there, a glinting sword swinging in each hand. Grinning, he shakes his head. He should have known. Shooting one of your twin assailants off you, he joins the fray. "Sorry I'm late." "You should be!" You grin back at him. "This party started an hour ago."

This visit has only a few days left. Ignoring that, you climb higher into the tree before you settle, pulling the red-and-black swirled book from your small satchel. Legolas sits in the crook of the tree right below yours. "Shall I read or would you prefer to?" It's as if he can sense your energy, see right through your facade to the highs and lows of your heart. The book in question held some of your favorite ghost stories, old legends and more local frights alike. You joke about the prince being able to handle it, but in the end you know whose voice you would prefer to ring out with it that day.

You are the only one Legolas trusts to saddle up his horse, hand him the bags he'd surreptitiously caught you slipping a copy of your book of horrors into as a memento. He says your name softly as a wish when you stand at his mount's side, catching your nod before he captures your lips with his, motions slow, deliberate as if he would wake up from the dream at any moment. Your name is even more delicious whispered after a kiss. "Wait for me." "Who else would I even look twice at?"

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #lotr matchups #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas x female reader #female reader #ask #auryborealis #requested #matchup monday

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siremasterlawrence · 2 years ago

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Henry Cavill has felt quite off for the longest time getting on his motorcycle he rides off in to the desert just blasting through the area as if he is in a race.

Story request by @male-meat-suit

Someone always feels like they beside him one way or the other he can’t escape it so he might as well make a run for it as far as he can go.

Henry checking his area through the mirror can help himself because every once in a while he keeps seeing a stranger in the view mirror.

Unfortunately for him he has no idea what

is to come this day the more he revs up the motorcycle getting him hard this should not be happening.

The power of the motorcycle revs up in even more roaring in to the road as he speeds in to the desert and the gas from the pipe blows up.

The motorcycle starts to glow blowing up in a shiny silver color channeling in to his body Henry does not know why but there is a true reverb happening.

A pair of arms reach on to him grabbing and groping him as he squirms on the seat he is in a sea of madness as his aura is now on a sexual high.

Suddenly, his body is losing absolute control every action, thought and motion is a totally robotic and he is no longer in control of his body.

A woosh or power rushes coming up from the bottom of feet shoots up in to the nerves occupying his body inside him he can feel a another soul.

His mind is spinning a figure in back of his mind a new figure standing alone in a dark shadowy figure looming over him growing stronger by the second.

“DAMN IT! Why this feeling go?”

“And what is with the glint?”

“A mirror trick?”

“BLAST”

“Calm down”

“Let me stop here and grab some water “

“I can’t help this feeling”

“Is someone watching me”

“Creepy “

“My head is spinning”

“Uuuugggghhhh!”

“Oh God!”

“Why am I so hard?”

“About to cum”

“FUCK”

“I am in control now”

“Who are you ?”

“Relinquish your body to me”

“Nnnooo Ssstttoooppp!”

His blue revels with a surge of electrical red bloody currents causing his cock to shoot cum through his pants instantly getting harder.

The pain pricking him causing him to soar, grow stiff and hard as they become totally immobile losing his balance he crashes to the floor.

His head spins blacking out in to semi aware drop in to unconsciousness with his body in a catatonic state of nothingness and black bleakness spreads.

Awakening in this space he lifts himself up in to the sky he sees the man an unimportant guy so unimpressive young guy with no muscle.

His super level definition of height he is now overshadowing the nerdy young man’s who stares at him with no fear or worry to his deflation.

In real time his body aimlessly his body is back on his feet checking out the area to see no cars coming and begins to strip off his clothes.

His hands digging under his shirt letting the sun shine on bus washboard abs throwing it to the side and his hands on his bely is next it’s sexy.

He hates this deep need to be used, lusted after and watched as the man is overtaking him it’s disgusting to me and it’s the stupid ridiculous.

The belt slides off, pants are unbutton and zipper drawn and it’s no more privacy from here. The pants are off leaving nothing but ones imagination.

Striking a pose he props up his cellphone on a display of rocks as he poses for a multiple sets of showcasing his body and even does a video recording.

“Hey I am Henry Cavill, I am fine, and vain.”

“I would never say that..you are liar”

“We can’t here you “

“Mwahahahahaha “

“The heat is killing me”

“And I am hot”

“It’s my body “

“Not anymore “

“Fuck! I won’t let you “

“As if you have a choice “

“I do…I one hundred percent do”

“You have no power here “

“Welcome to the sub space!”

“Hey baby”

“You want this pretty ass”

“I am free”

“To be with you and you “

“Of course you “

“Why am loving this?”

“I am fading! No! Let me go! I want my life…I”

“Bye bye”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Motherfucking pussy bitch”

Henry Cavill disappears inside his own mind he fell in to swirl submission.

The end

#henry cavill #leather jacket #desert #possession #ghost #body possession #spirit

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vai3r13 · 7 months ago

Note

Hello hello! :) I’m here for our matchup trade for Black Butler! (I sent the pictures for the Paparazzi end :) )

Starting off I am a neurodivergent, queer (but attracted to masculinity) female. I go by she/they and im an INFP Sagittarius.

Physically, I am a 5’2” but wear platform converse or boots every day of my life. Style wise, im definitely alternative. However, Im also a fan of the baggy jeans, tight top, kinda side of grunge. Im also a sucker for black with pastels, so I suppose my color pallete would fall under “Pastel Goth” or something similar. I actually really love the style called “Morute” which stands for “Morbidly Cute”. I just absolutely adore the creepy-cute combination, and i aspire to look like a creepy doll somedays.

That also would lead into hobbies, as I love dolls! I collect them and will gush over them any time i see one in public i like. Especially going to cons and seeing the little stands with BJD dolls? I go feral-...and broke. My entire room is decorated in pretty dolls, anime figures, manga, and cherry blossom vines. (I really want a cherry blossom tattoo on my back but im terrified of needles-) My other hobbies include writing, skateboarding, singing/making music, and dancing! I have a band with friends right now. I’m training my voice to be a metal singer despite having a feminine voice, so im a bit shy with it right now.

Personality wise, I suppose it tends to fluctuate, but i think what sticks the most is that I'm extremely sweet and loyal. I used to be very shy, and can even be pretty quiet nowadays too. Im definitely introverted but, ive gotten much better with it. Friends would definitely say that im bubbly, always trying to laugh. Definitely witty too because I absolutely love bantering and softly bullying people. Id say im very emotionally intelligent when it comes to other people. Im definitely a realist, and im told im very good with advice and empathizing with people. I feel i understand other emotions more than mine sometimes. Which annoys me- Because I have a habit of not expressing anything negative. I think it might be due to past trauma, but I have a hard time staying angry or upset with people. Its like- once you screw me over, i have no issues getting rid of you. I dont like that i can easily disconnect from people, as I feel it makes me sound like a bad person, but I just feel l like if i know my worth, and someone isnt treating me as they should, I shouldnt keep them in my life. That does go to say though, that I am an all or nothing person with people I care about. If i am your friend, I trust you can come to me with anything and I vice versa no matter what. I always come through and i expect the same.

Another bad habit though would be disappearing. I wouldnt call it ghosting because I always pop back up, but I usually dont respond or see people for weeks or even months, even close friends. Most that are close know that if they need to talk to me, they have to double text or call me. Ill always answer then. I dont mean to, I just for some reason am really consistent with randomly dropping off the face of the earth for everyone but my partner, or person closest. Texts are always paragraphs though! Im not a dry texter, just forget I exist and have to respond :) Not to mention, i have ran away out of state before just for the sake of going and exploring. (Did a lot of Urbex and trespassing- it was fun but i dont think ill ever go to abandon buildings like that again. That doesnt mean ill stop climbing trains though!) I just love road trips and little late night adventures.

Some notes about me… Id say my fears involve needles, the dark (I sleep with a nightlight but love horror-), Clowns, and deep water. I cannot swim and have nearly drowned before so I actually hate going swimming. I dont see the appeal and start to panic if i cant see or touch the bottom. I wouldnt say im scared of spiders though like most. I actually am the person my job calls for to grab spiders and take them outside. If theyre cute, ill just grab them with my hand. Another thing is that I have OCD and PTSD. My OCD isnt the typical stereotype of being clean, Im just very routine with patterns. The person im with has to be okay with frequent alarms I set for different time frames, my strange eating habits (I cant have anything touching, one food at a time, soft foods over crunchy, and i absolutely love bananas but cant eat them unless someone peels them for me while im not looking) I also get very paranoid about certain things, like for example, i get little episodes sometimes where I freak out because I believe Ill inherent my dads schizophrenia and Ill because dissociated with reality, so whoever im with needs to be able to help assure me i wont just lose my mind- That being said, my least favorite love language is touch! I can be touched, but its very easy to overwhelm my due to past trauma. I also flinch very easily without even thinking and it gets annoying when people make fun of it. Because of this as well, im a very silent walker and tend to scare people because i subconsciously make myself as unnoticeable as possible. Im also an insomniac. I will not go to bed until the sun is up, and even then I wake up very easily. My doctor keeps trying to give me medications for it so i can sleep better, but its so ironic because I stop taking them constantly because I hate feeling tired. SO someone who doesnt mind being up a bit late would be appreciated :)

Random facts are: I absolutely adore raccoons and rats, and used to be a rat mom! I’ll spit out little rodent facts like im google. I know morse code. Im an amazing driver. I will get you there fast and safe….fast as in i max out my car frequently and if i get one more traffic misconduct i lose my license. BUT i know how to be safe with taking those risks, if that makes sense? Like i know where and when to speed and when not to- Most people fear getting in the car with me. But other than that, i think that’s it for now! Thank you <3

Hello!<3 @xxchthonicreaturexx

I apologize for any mistakes! English is not my native language and I'm new to writing:) Written in "you" perspective

possible tw - talk of mental health, mentions of unhealthy relationship ig? idk how healthy grim reapers r, mentions of drowning and suicide

barely proofread

To start, you're gorg and going off of everything I think your Black Butler match would be..

Undertaker !!

Both visually and personality wise I think you would compliment each-other! In my opinion your energies have something similar.

visual

I think Undertaker would like your piercings, he has an industrial himself.

small head cannons

You both have black nail polish, so painting each others nails as a cute activity:)

Doing each others eyeliner/make up.

classic

Undertakers mbti type most likely is ISTJ while yours is INFP. While your compatibility can seem difficult at first, by appreciating each others differences you "balance" each other out.

Sagittarius and Aquarius are an energetic match, being air and fire signs your elements fit seamlessly. In astrology, air feeds fire.

"i can easily disconnect from people"

Is a trait both of your star signs posses, a similarity that needs to be balanced between the two of you.

In terms of style I can see you in lots of similar/ partner outfits, as your style is somewhat similar too. Undertaker would, just like you, adore pastel goth and a creepy cute, dolly like aesthetic, - not on him but most definitely on his partner.

I think Undertaker would definitely share your love for dolls, acquiring many dolls and gifting them to you.

As we can see in the Luxury Liner arc, I'd say he has his own love for "dolls", if you know what I'm saying.

As for your other hobbies I think Undertaker wouldn't exactly share your interest in them, but he'd definitely support you. Ex. Watching your band perform, making tea to soothe your voice after you've practiced. He'd definitely be one to annoy and tease you in a joking manner, while you're writing or doing other things.

You being more calm/quiet and Undertakers more energetic and chaotic certainly harmonize. You'd participate in a lot of witty banter and Undertakers life mission would be to make you laugh all the time. He'd adore your sweetness and bubbly-ness (is that even a word??) and your loyalty would be VERY important to him. While he acts and is mostly carefree, I think deep down he still wary of deep connections with people, as he doesn't really have friends.

When he achieves said connection tho he might not always act like it but he'd be sort of possessive. Wouldn't let you get very close to Sebastian or Ciel out of a fear, that they would use you against him in some way. It takes a while for him to tell you what he is, it takes him a while to trust someone 100% wouldn't talk about how it happened tho.

I think arguments wouldn't happen very often, when they do tho they would happen out of Undertakers disregard for "human customs", ex. relationships with other people, etc. Undertaker doesn't resort to screaming, he wouldn't even comprehend that you're mad or annoyed with him. After a few days of not talking much he'd try and talk, bring you something, dolls, sweets, whatever. Makes you sit down and explain what's bothering you, wouldn't always get it but he'd try. Makes up by gifting you dolls or figurines.

Would get worried the first few times you disappear, always manages to find you tho. Absolutely goes exploring with you, might not say it but part of the reason why, is because he's worried about you.

Teases you about your fear of the dark, always lights a candle for you at night tho. Undertaker has died through drowning, as shown in a manga panel, so he shares your fear of water. It serves as a constant reminder for him, so you both don't see the appeal.

Might sound weird but he's fascinated with your OCD habits, he asks you about them. Once you explained them, he always makes sure that your food is arranged the way you like it and peels your bananas for you. Doesn't mind the alarms you set, can be your personal alarm clock actually.

Undertaker has dealt with a lot throughout his long life, he has his own problems. He will always assure you that you're going to be okay. Another thing, that might seem insensitive but sometimes he'd joke that you'll be "crazy" together.

Undertaker's very touchy by nature, I would say. After noticing you flinch, he'd be unsure if his presence and being a grim reaper still intimidates you in some way, if he decides talking to you about it, Undertaker will resort to gift giving and quality time.

Being a quiet walker doesn't matter with Undertaker, as he senses your presence, he isn't human after all, or easy to startle.

Grim Reapers require both sleep and sustenance, but have you seen Undertaker? That man runs on two hours of sleep maximum, he also definitely wouldn't mind staying up late. Dancing late at night, while nobody is watching, is definitely a reoccurring activity in a relationship with the Undertaker. He can be a bit overbearing at times.

Depending what century you're imagining this in, Undertaker loves when you drive, it's sort of an adrenaline rush for him.

head canons

Doing each others makeup, sitting on a coffin or your bed. "You have to be still, for me not to smudge the eyeliner!!", while he tries to tickle or smooch you.

Painting each others nails and making a cute date night out of it, lots of candles around you for the atmosphere. Playful banter, which ends in you two cuddling in a coffin.

Going out to explore the woods, him following closely behind you, suddenly disappearing just to appear in front of you, scaring you in the process, making Undertaker burst out laughing. Holding out a hand to help you climb onto things.

Exploring the city at night, when the people are sleeping and the bustling and usually loud streets of London are completely empty. Even jumping roof to roof. (This reminded me of that one Howl's moving castle scene. 01:47-02:10 in the linked video)

Late at night, while both of you aren't sleeping, Undertakers shop is dark, except for the dozens of candles littered across the room, as a music box starts playing a soft melody. Undertaker coming up behind you and offering you a hand, as you start dancing across his shop, moving through the space together, occasionally stepping on each others feet and giggling.

Again, it's my first time writing and English isn't my first language. I hope you could still enjoy this<3

#divider by v6que #undertaker #undertaker black butler #undertaker x reader #undertaker kuroshitsuji #romance #romantic #romantic matchup #match #matchups #english isnt my first language

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