The Aesthetic Of Detroit: Become Human

The aesthetic of Detroit: Become Human

● Bad girl ●

Daryl Dixon X FEM.Reader

Era: Season 2, farm

Summary: Daryl had been badly injured while searching for Sophia and your daddy had ordered Daryl to stay overnight in your house. The archer had his own room with a bed and you took care of his wounds. But one time you had sneaked a peek into his room while he was jerking off and he caught you.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEMALE Reader, spanking, fingering, AGE GAP (Daryl is in his late 30s, Reader is 20 years old), teasing, perv Daryl, masturbate, Reader watches Daryl masturbating

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist!

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PoV (Y/N):

The world was ending and, as my daddy would call it, "sick" people were running around. But suddenly a group of survivors came to us and they brought an injured boy to us. Apparently Otis had shot him and another girl was missing. My daddy took care of the injured boy and meanwhile the survivors were allowed to live with us in the front yard. They were not allowed to enter our house except for Rick and Lori, the parents of the injured boy.

I was the middle daughter of the Greenes. Maggie was my older sister and Beth was my younger sister, but I still wasn't allowed to do much with the survivors. It kind of annoyed me, but I could understand my daddy, after all we didn't know these survivors. But one survivor seemed very interesting to me. I think his name was Daryl, but I didn't see him very often. He looked for the missing little girl every day and only came back late at night. Inside, I already gave up hope of getting to know him better, but one day I got my chance.

One day Daryl came back badly wounded and he had also been shot by Andrea. Apparently he had also received one of his arrows in his side. My daddy took care of his wounds and now he had to lie in our guest room. While my daddy took care of his wounds, I brought him food and towels to wash himself with.

But while I was with him, I hardly spoke to him. I came in with a "Hello" and left with a "Ask if you need anything.". But not because I was afraid or because I didn't want to talk to him, I just didn't dare. Even though he sometimes looked at me with a non-grumpy expression on his face, I didn't dare say more. But it didn't seem to bother him, he actually seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet. But I really wanted to talk to him.

But today I wanted to do it differently. I had some food in my hands for Daryl and I was about to knock on his door when I suddenly heard a soft moan coming from his room. At first I thought he was moaning because of the pain, so I quietly opened the door so it was ajar. I quietly looked in to see if Daryl was really moaning because of the pain. But when I saw why he was really moaning, I turned bright red and my cunt started to throb and tingle.

Daryl had his back turned to me, I could see his bare back, which was covered in scars. I had noticed these scars many times, even though he constantly tried to hide them. Sometimes I had to come into his room when he was sleeping to bring him new clothes or leave his food there. My eyes sometimes fell on his broad back and, accordingly, on his scars.

Daryl's right arm moved up and down very quickly, while in his other hand he held a white cloth. He pressed it close to his face, probably to muffle his noises. Although I didn't have much experience with sexual things, I knew enough to know that Daryl was jerking himself off. Although I couldn't see anything, his noises were enough to make my panties wet. I put the food I wanted to bring him on the floor and then my hand wandered between my legs, under my skirt. I slowly pressed my middle finger against my clit, through my panties, and a quiet gasp escaped me. I did my best to be quiet, since everyone was still near the house. Not inside the house, but close. And Daryl was still behind the door.

The sound of skin slapping against each other became faster and faster and Daryl's breathing became faster too. As his hand moved faster, my movements on my clit also became much more faster. I closed my eyes, completely lost in the feeling of masturbation. My panties became wetter and wetter and my legs began to shake while I wished and imagined Daryl was moaning my name. My legs eventually gave up and I slowly knelt on the floor. On the other hand, I could briefly hear Daryl moaning very loudly before I heard nothing more. But I couldn't stop touching myself and imagining Daryl moaning my name, his rough fingers massaging my clit and stroking my skin. With my eyes closed, I gasped a little louder, his name also escaped my lips sometimes.

God, I was so lost in thought that I actually heard him say my name. "(Y/N)?… Hey…" But soon I was surprised by reality when I felt a rough hand on my shoulder. I immediately jumped and looked up at Daryl, his cheeks bright red. He looked at me confused and a little annoyed and I already knew that he knew what I had just done. But he also seemed uncomfortable, because his cheeks were bright red and his hands were shaking slightly. Maybe this was just the aftereffects of masturbating. "D-daryl…!?" Shocked, I pulled my hand away from between my legs and looked at his plate, which was next to me. The food had probably gone cold by now.

"I-i…! I can explain…!" I stuttered harshly, while I held my hand that had been satisfying my clit until recently. My fingertips shone slightly from my arousal seeping through my panties. But I didn't want Daryl to see them, even though he probably already knew what I was doing.

The archer remained silent, he just looked between my legs. There was something sparkling in his blue eyes before he turned around and looked down at me. At first I was afraid he would tell my daddy and I would get into so much trouble. "Come with me." Daryl then said suddenly. Without waiting for my answer, he went into his room and sat down on his bed. Swallowing hard, I got up anyway, taking the plate with me so that no one would get suspicious. Once inside the room, I put the plate on the bedside table and stood in front of Daryl. He looked down briefly before looking up at me, I couldn't even read his expression. "Ya were watchin' me, righ´?" He asked suddenly.

I didn't think it was possible, but my face turned even redder than it had been before. Swallowing hard, I looked down at the floor, feeling incredibly uncomfortable that he was now confronting me like this. The last time I had felt so pathetic was when Maggie had caught me kissing a picture of my favorite actor at the time. But this situation was a whole new level. But I didn't wanted to lie to Daryl, he was a good man. "Y-yes… I-I'm sorry, I didn't want-!" "Lay over ma lap. Now." His words confused me even more. Had he just told me to lie on his lap so that my butt was in the air? But I didn't contradict him, I just nodded silently.

I moved hesitantly towards him and knelt down on the bed next to him. At first I looked at Daryl quietly to make sure that this was really what he wanted. But his dark blue eyes looked at me stubbornly, as if they were telling me even more forcefully that I should finally lie across his lap. So I nodded slightly before I lay across his lap, my hips now over his thighs and my butt was stretched up a little. "'S yar family in yar house?" He asked as he lifted my skirt. Now I felt completely naked in front of him and my shame grew more and more. Daryl could now not only see my ass, but also my wet panties. "N-no…" I answered his question anyway. "W-why-!? Ah!” I gasped loudly when I felt him slap my left butt cheek.

It wasn't a hard slap, but he wasn't gentle either. It was hard enough to make me gasp and whimper, but not hard enough to hurt me. Another slap, this time on my right ass cheek. Whimpering, I dug my nails into his bed cover that was underneath us. "Yar dirty, ya know tha'?" He suddenly asked. I couldn't even answer his question before he slapped my ass again. I pressed my legs together tightly, even though these slaps hurt somehow, they also aroused me at the same time. I felt myself getting even wetter and my lower abdomen tingled strongly as I felt his slap on my ass again.

Whimpering, I pressed my face into his bed, but this was also a mistake. The bed smelled like him. How could it not smell like him, he was lying in this bed the whole time. Daryl's smell made my eyes roll back slightly and my whimpering turned into a quiet moan. While he slapped my now red skin with his right hand, his left hand held my legs down, as I sometimes lifted them out of reflex. "Dirty girl… ya like tha'?" He asked suddenly. A quiet whimper escaped me again, but I didn't answer him. Yes, I liked it, but I didn't want to admit it. Daryl remained silent for a while before he lifted some of the fabric of my panties and let it slap against my skin again. "Yar so goddamn wet…" He growled quietly.

Before I could react, Daryl pushed my panties aside, now he could see my wet pussy. "D-daryl…" "Shhh… be quiet." He said, in a stern but at the same time gentle tone. I hadn't known Daryl for long, but I believed and trusted him. It was dumb, yeah. But I didn´t really care. I could have pushed him away at any time, his grip wasn't firm or hurtful. He slowly let his finger slide through my wet folds before he pressed his rough finger against my clit. Panting, I pressed my legs together tighter and whimpered a little louder. For a while, Daryl massaged my clit in circular movements and I kept moaning and whimpering quietly. "D-daryl, please…" My voice came out quietly. At first I thought he hadn't heard me, but when he slid his fingers to my entrance, I got a cold shiver.

"Ya wan' it here?" He then asked, circling his finger around my entrance. Breathing heavily, I nodded slightly before pressing my face into his bed covers. His scent immediately filled my nose again, and he slowly pushed his finger into me. "Fuck, yar tigh'…" Daryl murmured quietly as he slowly began to move his finger. I was wet enough that he could start right away and I didn't feel any pain, it just felt weird. "D-daryl…~! G-god…" I murmured quietly as my grip on his bed covers became tighter and tighter.

Daryl just growled softly before he curled his finger slightly. He gently pressed his fingertip against my wet, tight inner walls and the hairs on my neck stood up. At some point Daryl added a second finger and he moved his fingers much faster now. Moaning, I pushed my ass even further towards him, which made him slap my ass with his other hand. Little tears of excitement came to my eyes, the mixture of his fingers inside me and his slaps on my ass provoked an orgasm in me. My breathing became faster and stronger while my legs trembled more and more. "Ya cumming?" The archer asked as he slapped my ass again.

"Y-yes…! P-please~…!" "Please wha'?" "P-please, make me cum~!" I moaned loudly and trembled even more. Daryl moved his fingers as fast as he could and pressed his fingertips against my special spot, which made me see black for a moment. Daryl slapped my ass once more and hit my special spot once more before I moaned loudly into his bed and came around his fingers. My head was spinning as Daryl slowly pulled his fingers out of me and gently stroked my ass. "'re ya good?" I heard Daryl ask in a soft voice.

Humming, I nodded slightly, but I was still trying to recover from the orgasm. I had touched myself before, but I had never been so overwhelmed by an orgasm, if I ever had one. "Yeah, yeah… I'm good…" I murmured quietly. I lay still for a while, Daryl adjusted my panties a little and pulled my skirt down again so that it covered my ass.

When I finally got myself together, I slowly climbed down from him. My face was still bright red and my legs were shaking a little. Daryl just looked up at me quietly before looking down at his food. "Can we… do this again?" I asked uncertainly and then looked at him. Daryl remained silent for a moment before turning back to me and looking at me again with his unreadable expression. "If ya wan´? Jus´… don´ tell yar old man." A certain joy and hope spread through me, but I didn't show it, I just nodded. Then I left his room again and closed the door behind me.

Somehow everything went a little too fast for me, but I didn't regret it for a second. So I went back to my room with a big grin to change my panties.

PoV Daryl:

I stayed in bed for a while before looking at my fingers, which were still wet from her orgasm. Something stirred in my pants again as I hesitantly put my fingers in my mouth and tasted them. God, she tasted as sweet as she looked. Of course I knew that she had been interested in me for a long time, but I never dared to speak to her properly because of our age difference. But this situation that happened recently made my heart beat faster and I could now dream about it every night. How her pussy wrapped tightly around my fingers, how her ass slowly turned red with every slap and how she moaned my name. God, I was already looking forward to the next time.

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slapmewithacroc

2 years ago

Switched On

Connor (RK800) x gn!Reader | 1.8K | SFW

You, a deputy at the Detroit Police Department, have been working closely with Lieutenant Anderson and Connor on their deviant cases. You have often witnessed Connor demonstrate his precise fighting techniques and wish to be coached on how to defend and apprehend deviants. Connor agrees to help you practice but finds himself surprised by the outcome.

A/n: this is one of my old fics from wattpad that i’m posting here to keep safe!

The room’s air was stale and smelt like dust, with dummies knocked over and left there for what looked like years judging by how mould had bloomed in spots. This old training room was left untouched since the opening of the new firing range in the warehouse across the street; these days the force wasn’t much concerned with taking on a foe in hand to hand combat than shooting them from five feet away. But now that the stakes were higher you felt compelled to take matters into your own hands.

You weren’t unfit by any standard, in fact you kept up with your exercise. You never knew when an ounce more strength could come in handy and possibly save your life or another’s. But reality faced you in the new cut that curved around your neck, luckily not deep enough to have killed you. An android had been the cause of your wound, which was now covered in gauze and ached like hell.

Fingers snapped in front of your face, the person in question coming into focus as he pulled his hand away.

“Are you paying attention, Deputy (L/n)?”

You shook your head, shoving away the scene. Trying to not picture the blade slicing through your skin as you were rendered totally helpless, overpowered and outmatched by the android’s perfect estimations.

“Yeah, sorry.” You mumbled, shaking your arms to get your blood flowing. “I just…”

Keep reading

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slapmewithacroc

1 year ago

Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!

my body is a cage

finnick odair x reader

synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..

a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao

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“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.

“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.

you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”

johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”

katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.

“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”

they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.

“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.

suddenly the island began to spin.

your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.

you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.

you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.

finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.

“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”

there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.

finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.

“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.

you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.

finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”

finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”

“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.

“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.

“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.

“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.

finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.

finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.

he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.

it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.

“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”

there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”

your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.

“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.

“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”

finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.

“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”

johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.

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slapmewithacroc

1 year ago

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔? - Part One

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x f!reader Smut Warnings: smut // fingering, public sex, choking, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation Summary: Your parents are important political figures and Jackson Rippner has been stalking you for weeks. You're an introverted person, constantly reading to escape your daily life. But what happens when you happen to be in a bookstore, alone? Word Count: 2.6k A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first time writing fanfiction. Hope y'all like it, it probably sucks. Oops. I've been obsessed with Jackson Rippner since the first time I watched Red Eye (lol, literally years ago), and the quantity of fics is chronically low, so here we are. Read Part 2 here.

You had always loved to read. It relaxed you, distracting you from the loneliness that came from everyday life. Perhaps you were so lonely because of your parents. You had never known a normal life, not by any standard. Your father, a senator, had reminded you incessantly of the public image you were to uphold. Every step, every touch, every moment was scrutinized by the media and your father’s opponents. You were well aware. Every time you stepped outside your bedroom, you almost expected a camera to be shoved into your face and questions to be thrown at you… as if you had any answers.

The harassment you had faced early on had caused an ache in your life. An ache that seemed impossible to fill. Every teenage girl dreams of experiencing relationships like the ones in the movies. But your father had insisted that such a thing would risk ruining his reputation. He could not have you consorting with someone who wouldn’t uphold his public view. Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone paid attention to you, anyway. Now, as an adult, living on your own, you still escaped to the fictional worlds upon the pages you held dear. Why contend with real life when dreamy, passionate stories await you?

Perhaps if you put your books down, people would flock to you. Maybe they would show you the admiration you had only ever read or fantasized about. But deep down, you felt that was not true. Surely if you were attractive you would have people chasing after you. Yet, such things did not happen. Not in real life, anyway. So, the books stayed in your hand, your fingers flipping through page after page as the characters written upon them experienced pleasures and intimacy you were sure you would never know.

Then again, it was not like people had never shown interest in you. It just seemed the wrong people were attracted to you. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe your standards were too high. Yet, deep down, you knew you only longed for someone to hold you. Caress your back. Treat you like you were their world. Reading soothed the ache to throw yourself at any person who showed you affection. You longed for it, yes. But not enough to accept any person who walked into your life.

Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as you walked underneath the amber-colored trees, their leaves shaking gently in the soft fall breeze. Your headphones blasted music, eyes drifting down to the cracked sidewalk as you made the familiar walk to your favorite bookstore. The bell rang as you opened the glass door, the open sign’s neon lights glaring against the store’s glass front. The smell of candles hit you like a wave as you stepped inside—the spicy pumpkin aroma drifted lazily amongst the shelves of books.

As you walked past the front desk, you noticed a sloppily written sign.

Be back soon—leave money on the front desk. - Mr. Kilone

You sighed, fingers drifting over the sign. Mr. Kilone, the store owner, was an innocent old man with a passion for books. You had spent hours talking with him about all kinds of novels, often with a cup of hot cocoa warming your hands as you laughed with him. It bothered you how trusting he was. People took advantage of naivety, you knew. You had told him as much. He had brushed it off, saying no one would bother stealing his old books.

You took off your coat, setting it behind the desk. Your sweater was warm enough, what with all the candles burning—it was a fire hazard, you supposed. You laughed at the thought, your fingers dragging along the bookcases as you walked further into the store.

You thoughtlessly picked up books, flipping through them and then setting them back in their place. After a few more minutes, you flipped to a random page in a book you had picked up, a couple of words catching your eye. Shuffling to the back of the store, book in hand, you sat down against one of the shelves. You flipped back a couple of pages to the beginning of the scene.

You held your breath as the scene continued. The words practically leaped off the page as your mind filled with images of the scene you were reading.

His fingers plunged into her, curling deliciously as he clicked his tongue mockingly, her moans echoing…

You bite at your nails, your stomach fluttering as you read.

He nipped at her neck, grunting as he moved back and forth at a brutal pace…

The door’s bell rang. Your head snapped up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you thought of Mr. Kilone returning to his store as you read such filthy words in the back of his shop. You snapped the book shut and hustled to the front of the store, holding the book behind your back as you desperately searched for the empty slot in the bookcase.

You stopped abruptly as you saw a man crouched in front of one of the bookcases, his hair falling in front of his face as he read the book spines intently. His dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing off his collarbones. You took in the formal pants and coat, the brown locks, and the sharp cheekbones. You could have sworn he stepped out of one of the books you had read.

He hears your muffled footsteps on the carpet and looks up, still crouched before the shelves. A soft smile crosses his face as he stares at you, eyes intensely meeting yours. He notices your flushed face.

“Something wrong?” He asks, standing up and brushing off his black pants. He seems to be staring into you, analyzing every little movement you make.

You shake your head, brow furrowing. “No, I- uh, nothing’s wrong. Just… didn’t expect anyone to come in here.”

“Well, it’s an open shop.”

You nod, blushing still. Swallowing nervously, you smile politely and begin to walk past him to put back the book you were holding. The shelves were placed so close together in the tiny store that you had to practically shuffle past, or else you would be forced up against the man. As you turned sideways to move past him, suddenly, your wrists were held in a tight grip.

“What-”

“Shh… what’s this book you’ve got here?” He nods toward the book in your hand.

You blush, your mouth falling open as you try to come up with words, vocal chords failing you. “I-”

“Don’t be so nervous… I know what you like to read, Y/N.” He coos, lips pressed against your ear as he pins you against the shelf.

“How… how do you know my name?” Your eyes are wide, heart pounding. Maybe you would be more frightened if his breath wasn’t hot against your neck and his scent wasn’t delightfully suffocating you.

“Oh… Y/N…” He scolds, face twisting into a smirk as he leans back to look at you. “You’ve been so easy to watch. You really should keep your blinds closed… especially when you live alone. So isolated… Tell me. Do you like being alone?”

You nod. You can essentially feel your heart pounding against your ribs, begging to be let free. The man grins and leans back in, lips against your ear.

“Don’t lie. I know the books you read in that little room of yours. How you smile and blush at words on a page. Don’t you wish that it was real?”

You begin to shake your head, wanting to deny it. He grabs your throat and shoves you further into the shelf. His grip is tight, but not unbearable. Your breath still comes easily, but his fingers press into you. He grits his teeth and looks you up and down through narrowed eyes.

“I said, don’t lie.”

“I-” Your words feel stuck in your throat.

“You what? It’s okay… you can say it.”

Silence.

“Say it.”

Eyes wide, you remain silent.

“You like reading filthy books, wishing it was real. You imagine those scenarios when you touch yourself. Say it.” He shakes you slightly, grinning cruelly as you yelp in surprise, face red.

“I- I read books because I wish it was real. And I- I imagine those scenarios when I… when I-” You stammer, stomach upset with a mixture of fear… and something you don’t care to admit. He knew too much about you… yet the thought of him watching you…

“You what? C’mon, Y/N…” He chastises.

“When I… touch myself.” You look down, mortified.

“There… that wasn’t so hard, was it? And don’t look so embarrassed, Y/N. I know far too much about you for you to be so red in the face.”

He leers, releasing your neck and leaning against the bookcase opposite you. You rub at your wrists, not knowing what to do or how to react. You think of all the nights you’ve stayed up late, reading, normally ending with your hand between your thighs. He seems to know you are realizing the implications of his admission, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

“Why- why have you been watching me? Who even are you?” You stand still, nearly frozen with fear. Yet, there it is… that burning in your stomach and between your legs, one that has never been satiated by your own fingers.

He laughs, glancing at your body.

“The name is Jackson Rippner. And I already know you’re Y/N L/N, the spoiled and precious little daughter of some fancy politician, yes?” And there it is, that sinking feeling of realization. It’s as if your body is going to sink into the floor. Your shoulders feel too heavy and your knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

“You realize now, don’t you?”

“So, why- what are you watching me for? What are you going to do?” Your bottom lip quivers and your voice shakes.

He laughs again, that same empty laugh. Like he’s trying to appear friendly.

“I suppose I should kill you. It’s what I was sent here to do, after all. Get your dear pops all worked up. But- you’ve intrigued me.”

Your brow quirks upward, heart pattering. “I’ve… intrigued you?” He nods slowly, leaning back in as he places his hands on either side of you.

“Indeed you have. You see… at first, I believed you were just some boring, spoiled brat. But the more I watched you… The more times I saw you dance around your house with those stupid headphones of yours… The more I saw you in bed, reading those books as you bit your lip and played with that perfect pussy…” He placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his intense stare. “Oh, Y/N… you’ve made me very intrigued.”

He gently bites your earlobe, lips ghosting over your jaw and neck. One hand remains on your chin as the other trails down your side, resting at your waist before finding its way to your ass. He squeezes gently, causing a gasp to escape your open mouth. He chuckles against your neck.

“Oh, how I’ve wanted to be the one to make you make those pretty little noises…”

His lips trail down your neck before nipping at your collarbone. A breathless moan leaves you and he smirks against the base of your neck before pulling away. He scoffs at your state, your lips parted slightly and face red with arousal.

“Look at you… so needy and I’ve barely touched you. I would ask if you always get this worked up, but I know you do.”

You don’t even realize you’re still holding onto the book you grabbed earlier until he reaches forward and pulls it away from you. He opens the book to the page you had held it at with your thumb. You stay frozen as he skims the page, eyes lighting up as he reads.

“Y/N… you get yourself so worked up reading such things, and then you never get satisfaction. I know your own fingers don’t make you cum… so. Why don’t you go out once in a while… have fun? Are you scared? Is that it?” Rippner teases, chuckling.

“I- yes.” You admit.

“You’ve started answering my questions… good girl.” This only makes your cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. He looks you up and down, not surprised by your reaction.

“You know… I’d like to help you with your little… issue.”

“You- you do?”

He steps closer, hand drifting underneath your shirt before cupping your breast, gently caressing it. A broken whimper leaves you, and he bites his lip playfully.

“Y/N… you’re too easy to excite.”

He leans in and finally places his lips against yours. His lips move hungrily, his hand on the back of your head, holding you close to his chest. You both stumble into the back of the store, hidden behind the rows of bookcases. Your back slams into one of the shelves and you yelp, mouth opening further, allowing Jackson’s tongue to slip into your mouth, tasting you.

You moan freely now, hands twisting into his hair and his hands frantically unbuttoning your jeans. His hand slipped into your pants, gently rubbing your clit over your underwear. You whine into his mouth.

“Shh, sh, sh. I can feel you dripping through your little panties…” He coos, biting your bottom lip.

The bell rings suddenly, and you hear Mr. Kilone’s familiar boots stamp against the carpet as he makes his way to his desk. You freeze, hands splayed against Jackson’s chest as your eyes widen with alarm.

“Stay quiet for me,” Jackson whispers in your ear as he maneuvers his fingers into your underwear, quickly slipping a finger into your wet center. You stifle a moan, face held against his shoulder. His finger fills you nicely as it pumps gently into you, curling against your walls.

He adds a second finger and you whine, a little too loud. He stops, placing his hand over your mouth, fingers still inside you. Mr. Kilone shuffles around near his desk and you both listen closely, anxious he’ll walk into the back of the store and see you in your compromising position. After a few seconds, Jackson begins to curl his two fingers into you again, keeping his one hand over your mouth.

Your hips rock against his fingers and he smirks. “There we go… good girl, fucking herself on my fingers.

Jackson sucks on your neck as his fingers move faster into you, plunging further than your fingers ever could. He hears your muffled moans increase in frequency. Your pussy flutters around his fingers and he grins, reveling in the feeling. You can only hope the wet sounds from the back of the store don’t draw Mr. Kilone’s attention.

Your stomach coils and your brow furrows—Jackson can tell that you’re close. So fucking close.

“Ah… you want me to let you cum? Hm? Is that it?” He mockingly whispers.

You nod, desperate for him to pull you over the edge, the feeling becoming too much to bear. He presses his lips to your ear, fingers moving even faster.

“Cum for me…”

Your body convulses delightfully as the pleasure overwhelms you. Your head is thrown back against the shelf as you moan against his hand, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm.

“Good girl… such a good girl for me.” He murmurs. He kisses you softly before pulling away to admire you as your chest rises and falls and your eyes look at him with satisfaction. He brings his fingers to his lips as he looks at you and gently licks his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste of you.

“So sweet... But next time, I want to taste you with my tongue…” He whispers as he kisses you again.

“Next time?” You question, brow raised as he buttons your jeans for you.

He looks you up and down, eyes oddly emotionless as he smirks. “I know where you live, just make sure to open up when I knock.” And with that, he turns and walks away, politely greeting Mr. Kilone as he leaves the store, the bell ringing.

Thank you so much for reading! So sorry if this was bad, it's literally my first time ever writing a fic. <3

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slapmewithacroc

1 year ago

hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart……

Enchanted

Request: hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart…

and: btw I saw your post about sab season 2 and i would like to request something with nikolai. i dont really have any ideas but i love that blonde boy so anything that you'll write with him is going to make me happy- but if its angst please im begging for a happy ending im already depressed because im reading rules of wolves

and: omg omg omg enchanted x nikolai sounds so perfect 😭 literally written for him

Hi! I absolutely adore these requests, thank you for sending them in. And sorry for the long wait, I’ve been a bit busy. And please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing for Nikolai, this is only my second time. Also, this request was combined with two others, I hope that’s alright, and sorry for anyone who’s request was altered a little bit to fit this story. I’m happy to accept another request if you don’t like this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

(Warnings: arranged marriage, swearing, very very brief angst, very vague suggestive content, drinking, let me know if i missed anything)

—

You had nearly begged on your knees when you found out you were to be wed, pleading with your parents’ advisors.

You were no fool. You knew that one day you’d have to marry, and you were prepared to do your duty. A Princess isn’t awarded the luxury of a choice, and you knew any match that was made probably wouldn’t be from a place of love. But you never thought your parents would be prepared to ship you off to a man none of you had ever even laid eyes on, and that’s including the advisors.

A second son, and a rumored bastard at that. It was all happening too fast, and you weren’t having an easy time processing it.

“You can’t send me! We already have an alliance with Ravka, why send me still?”

One of the men had stood, trying to ease you. “You must go, Princess. We may have an alliance, but our forces need to be strengthened. Prince Vasily is already spoken for. Marrying you to Prince Nikolai is the fastest way.”

“I am told he is charming, if it is any consolation,” another man said, though his voice was firmer. “It is time, Princess, for you to do your duty. You will marry.”

You finally relented, your fate beginning to set in. “That’s it, then. When will I be expected to leave?”

There was a moment of silence, and an awkward shuffling of feet as the advisors stood. And then one of the men spoke, sending dread running through you like ice in your veins.

“Your arrival is set for the end of the week. The King and Queen are expecting you.”

—

The journey passed far quicker than you had anticipated. A trip like that should have been grueling, yet each moment felt more fleeting than the last. By the time you arrived on Ravkan soil, you would practically be theirs. Upon your arrival, you were escorted to the Great Hall to meet the King and Queen.

“Moi tsar,” you curtsied, keeping your eyes low. “Moi tsaritsa. It is an honor.”

The words tasted sour on your tongue, but you spoke them anyway. The King and Queen were not known to be the kindest of people, and you’d rather spend your time in a foreign country on the good side of the sovereign.

“Princess,” the King greeted as he stood, his eyes racking your body. “You are as beautiful as they say. My son will be pleased. Unfortunately, your arrival has preceded his. He attended a meeting with our generals, and is set to arrive in a few days. The wedding will be in a fortnight. Until then, please enjoy our hospitality. I look forward to this new found alliance between our great countries.”

“As do I,” you said, forcing a smile.

—

As the days passed, you grew more uneasy. The weight of your duties were beginning to drag you down, and you didn’t know if you could bear the burden any longer.

Nikolai had yet to return to court, but with his inevitable arrival looming, it became harder to face each day. You were practically alone in the castle, having yet to make any friends. And you doubted the arrival of a Prince—the subject of scandalous rumors—would do anything to lessen the loneliness and fear you felt every night.

One evening, the pressure became too great.

Despite your duties, and the anger you knew both countries would feel towards you, you fled. It was a rash decision, and a stupid one at that. But it was the only option that could give you your freedom, so you took it.

It led you all the way down to the harbor, which you briskly made your way to with little more than the clothes on your back.

Your window of opportunity was closing, and you took it. In mere hours, someone would notice you were missing from your room. Guards would be sent all throughout the palace, and they’d track you down if you weren’t quick enough. One way or another, you would marry the second Prince of Ravka. You’d be forced to. And although the thought of being alone in an open country you knew next to nothing about terrified you, it was less terrifying than the thought of being trapped in that castle forever.

So you went. Fled, more accurately. All the way to the harbor, in nothing but a dress and cloak, with a bag of coins hidden in your skirts.

As you approached the harbor, the shout of guards could be heard in the distance. “Spread out! She cannot have gone far.”

The Kingsguard.

You felt your chest tighten as you quickened your pace, pulling your hood over your head. You rushed as inconspicuously as you could, clambering to get as far from the palace as possible. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your wrist.

“What’s the rush for, My Lady? You’re going to hurt yourself running in those shoes,” the woman said, her brows furrowing.

You stopped in your tracks to take her in, realizing she was standing next to a much larger man. She had axes sheathed at her waist, and a confused but intrigued grin.

“Please, excuse me—” You stuttered out, trying to pull away.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” the man said, in a tone much gentler than his appearance. “We mean you no harm. What are you running from?”

“I need to get away from here, and fast,” you pleaded, deciding to trust these people who stopped you.

“That wasn’t an answer to our question,” the woman said, easing her grip.

You let out a frustrated sigh, turning to look over your shoulder before turning back. “Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want. Just let me go. I have to get out of here, and quickly.”

The woman shared a glance with the man, and for a minute, you were beginning to think you had been found out. They somehow recognized you, and would know that the castle guards were looking for you. If that was true, the pair didn’t show it, looking back at you.

“We have a ship,” the man finally said, gesturing behind him. “And a captain. A name you’d perhaps recognize. Sturmhond.”

Sturmhond, you thought to yourself. The richest pirate on the True Sea? What was he doing in a port in Ravka? You shook your head, having no time for questions.

“Would he grant me safe passage? I can pay, I have the means. Please, I need to know if this is my only option of getting out of here. I haven’t done anything illegal, I promise. I just need to go.”

The woman laughed, her relaxed disposition beginning to ease you. “Illegal would have been more fun. Don’t worry, Princess. We’ll take you to our captain. You’ll be safe with us.”

Your eyes widened, and you stepped back to retreat, when the man raised his hands in surrender.

“We mean you no harm, Princess. Clearly, you’re in trouble, and we have the means to get you away from the palace.”

“Trust me,” the woman said, offering you her hand. “We have no wish to return to the palace.. I’m sure our captain isn’t too keen, either.”

You looked between the ship and back at the castle uneasily, when you heard another shout coming from the guards marching through the village. You turned towards the man and woman, who you just realized looked very similar. Siblings, perhaps, who had just gotten back from a journey at sea.

“Sturmhond is quite the character, but he’s a good man. You have my word,” the man said.

“Alright,” you said, making your decision as you took the woman’s hand. “I’ll go. Thank you, uh…”

You trailed off, making the man smile. He led you towards a nearby ship, helping you climb your way onto it.

“I’m Tolya, and that’s my sister Tamar. We’re part of Sturmhond’s crew. Come along, he’ll want to meet you.”

They quickly led you aboard a ship, ushering the crew to cast off. The crew looked around with confused faces, but listened anyway. As the ship slowly left the harbor, you were led downstairs to the cabins below.

“Captain,” Tamar called, knocking on the first doorway below deck, before opening the door herself.

“Do you want to tell me why my ship is moving away from the dock?” Sturmhond asked without turning around, shuffling through his cabin as he pulled on his coat.

You cleared your throat. “That would be because of me, I think.”

Sturmhond turned around at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he took you in. “I don’t believe it. Good evening, Princess. I do hope you are well. Tamar and Tolya have treated you kindly, I expect?”

You shrunk under his gaze, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Is my title that easy to spot? You’re the second to figure it out, is it something I’m doing?”

“Tamar has a keen eye,” Sturmond shrugged, grinning. “But you’re also wearing an evening gown fit for court, and the jewels around your neck could buy a small country. Those things aren’t exactly subtle, darling. Even with that cloak.”

You nodded, still nervous but relaxing with his calm demeanor. “I was told you could grant me passage away from the palace? I can pay, I don’t expect you to do this out of the kindness of your heart. But seeing as we’ve already left the harbor, I don’t think you have any other option but to take me with you. Unless you intend on throwing me overboard into the bay, although I’ll thank you kindly not to do that.”

“In that dress? You’d sink to the bottom, darling. There’s no need to worry, Princess. You’ll stay dry on deck, that I can assure you,” he chuckled, motioning for you to sit.

“We’ll inform the crew our trip has been extended,” Tamar announced, pulling Tolya behind her to leave the cabin.

You sat in the chair on the other side of Sturmhond’s desk, and he sat across from you. He offered you a kind smile, one that surprised you. You had heard plenty about the infamous privateer. You hadn’t expected him to be this young and handsome. His reputation matched that of an old tycoon, not of what appeared to be an ex soldier. He looked at you with curiosity, motioning for you to speak.

“So, would you like to explain to me why my ship is sailing back out to sea? Not that I’m upset or anything, I was dreading my return to Ravka myself. But as I understand it, you were asked to come to Ravka to strengthen a political alliance—”

“And how would you know about that?” You interrupted, raising a brow.

He smiled, shrugging. “I have my ways. It pays to know lots of things about lots of things. Including which Princesses are being married off to far away royalty.”

“Do you know him?” You asked, your voice a little unstable. “The Prince, I mean. Nikolai. I could hardly find anyone who knew him, and any knowledge of him was limited. I went into this alliance blind, thanks to my parents and advisors.”

Sturmhond’s grin widened as he nodded. “I do know him, yes. We were briefly acquainted some time ago.”

“And?”

“He’s alright,” Sturmhond laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Dashingly handsome. A bit cocky for my taste, perhaps a little spoiled, but what royalty isn’t, right? No offense.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “None taken.”

“I suppose you’re lucky in that you’re set to marry him, and not the Crown Prince. Vasily is—how should I put this—well…”

“A bastard?” You finished, making Sturmhond chuckle, nodding.

“He is, yes. Nikolai is, in another manner of speaking, the same as well. Is that why you’re running? You don’t want to risk your reputation on a second son who may not even be the second son?”

Sturmhond looked at you through curious eyes, although there was a little apprehension in them. A little vulnerability that you didn’t quite know what to make of. You shook your head, inadvertently easing his thoughts.

“It’s just rumors, Sturmhond. Whether there is any truth to them, I don’t know, and I don’t care. History records names, not blood. A true Lantsov or not, it doesn’t matter to me. It’s not Nikolai’s fault who his true parents are, and he shouldn’t have to bear the consequences of their actions. All that matters to my parents is what he means for my country. His reputation doesn’t affect that.”

“And what matters to you?” Sturmhond asked, his eyes softening. “Your secrets are safe with me, and I promise to not throw you overboard for whatever your answers are. Why are you running, Princess?”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. Sturmhond politely waisted for you to start, nodding encouragingly for you to speak.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap nervously. “Nikolai’s blood doesn’t matter to me, truly. All that really matters is that he has a kind heart, and he makes living at Ravkan court for the rest of my life more bearable.”

Sturmhond nodded as he listened intently. You continued.

“From what I hear, he’s a perfectly good man. Compared to my list of options, he was probably the best I could have hoped for.”

“Was? Or is? Do you intend on running forever? Seems like a waste of time in what is already a fleeting existence, Princess,” he said quietly.

“I know,” you nodded, growing frustrated. “I don’t know why I did it. I just thought about being alone at court for the rest of my life, and even the promise of a semi decent Prince wasn’t enough to ease my fears. I just wanted control over my own life for once, you know? My own freedom. It was a rash decision, I admit. But it seems to be working well in my favor so far.”

Sturmhond nodded, standing up from his desk to pour two glasses of whiskey. You downed yours the second he placed it in front of you, deciding it was better to let the second one sit when he refilled your glass.

“And Nikolai? What are his thoughts on the matter?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the glass. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been at court since I arrived. I have yet to meet him. Although, once he hears of me running, I’m sure any first impressions he could have had of me are ruined.”

“I don’t know about that.”

You raised a brow, coaxing him to continue. “Really? Why is that?”

“From what I hear, Nikolai isn’t really one for court, either,” he started, shrugging. “He runs when he gets the chance, too. Why do you think he’s away from court so often?”

You pondered the thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I always assumed his duties took him elsewhere. He’s not the Crown Prince, so he doesn’t need to remain in the palace. He serves in the First Army, doesn’t he?”

Sturmhond nodded, grinning. “He does. Or, to put it more accurately, he did. I think he just loiters around neighboring countries until his Mother forces him to come home and make an appearance now.”

You chuckled, letting out a deep sigh. “Isn’t that a treat? Coming home for the first time in months, only to find out your bride to be has run away.”

“With a face like that, I doubt he’ll care much about anything once he sees you.”

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks at his words, setting your eyes to your lap to avoid Sturmhond’s heavy gaze. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he breathed out a laugh.

“Besides, I’m told the Prince isn’t expected back at court for a few more days. Plenty of time for you to decide whether or not you want me to turn this ship around. Who would I be to deny a Princess?”

You smiled, your voice soft. “And if I don’t want to turn around?”

“Well, you’re paying me. I don’t really care either way, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he said, grinning as he topped your glass off. “But just between you and me, I’d do it for free. Anything for a pretty face like that. Just don’t go telling everyone I said that, I have a reputation to maintain.”

You laughed, nodding. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

—

You spent the next few days on the ship, feeling more and more at ease the further you made it from Ravkan shores.

At night, you longed for home.

Not for you parents, or any of their advisors. But for your own bed—not on a constantly rocking ship—and the familiar trill of the birds outside your window on dewy mornings. For the library in the East Wing people seemed to forget was even there, and the soup the cooks would make when a chill was in the air. For the gardens midmorning where you could escape to when you wanted to avoid all the guards constantly watching you.

Sturmhond did a good job at keeping you distracted from saddening thoughts, though. It was sweet of him, really. Making sure you had someone with you during the day, taking all his meals with you in the evening.

Your time on the ship was the most relaxed you had been in a long time, actually, which you attributed to him.

Sturmhond had quite the representation amongst high society—or any society, really—and he certainly met your expectations. He was charming, and attractive. Clever and ambitious, like everyone said he was.

You hadn’t expected him to be as attentive as he is, however. He seemed to really enjoy a new guest on the ship, one that could keep up with his banter. He didn’t make you feel like a burden like your parents so often did, actually including you in his daily routine.

Tolya and Tamar were great, too. Kind, and funny. Fiercely loyal and protective, both of their captain and of each other. They were the kind of friends you hoped to make during your time in Ravka.

So far, it was off to a good start.

As the days moved on, you found yourself growing closer to Sturmhond. You tried to stop yourself in the beginning. Despite not wanting it for yourself, you were engaged to Nikolai. Falling for another man wasn’t exactly a good thing for your future

But that damned smile.

His ridiculously attractive smile, and his stupid mop of hair that had only gotten longer from his time at sea. The infuriating way he’d look at you and make you want to shrink away from his gaze, but you could never bring yourself to look away. The obnoxious green emerald ring he wore that could probably buy a small village.

He had charmed you, despite your reservations, and you were practically head over heels. It scared the absolute shit out of you.

Tamar had of course noticed already, confronting you about it one night after dinner. She joined you on deck, sitting next to you on a crate as you watched the stars twinkle in the sky. They were so visible out at sea, away from all the lights and clutter of the cities.

“You’re not hiding anything from me, you know,” she smirked, sneaking your flask away to take a few sips from it.

You feigned innocence, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tamar.”

“Come on, darling. Let’s skip the bluffing…you like him. It’s so obvious.”

“Saints, I hope not,” you groaned, scrunching your nose up at the thought of Sturmhond finding out.

Tamar grinned at your embarrassment, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I may not swing that way, but I know the look when I see it. He’s all puppy dog eyes and desperate looks of longing when he sees you. It’s gross, really. I can actually hear his heart skip a beat when he sees you. He likes you, too. I’d stake money on it.”

You swallowed down your excitement, trying to think rationally. “Don’t even joke about that, it’s not funny.”

“I’m serious! You’re a catch, Princess. He may be my captain, but he’d be a fool not to want you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, but we can stop there,” you nervously chuckled. “We don’t need this going to my head. I’ll do something stupid like staying on this boat forever.”

She grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Would that be so bad?”

—

The next few days, you couldn’t get Tamar’s words out of your head. You went on with your routine with Sturmhond as usual, trying not to put much thought into it.

Your feelings for him were true, that’s for sure.

And when you’d catch him looking at you from across the deck, you’d swear by the look in his eye that he felt something for you, too. What it was, exactly, you didn’t know.

But it was something.

On your last evening before you had to make a decision about where you wanted to go, you skipped dinner. You couldn’t bring yourself to go along with your usual banter with Sturmhond, beginning to feel guilty about just how close and comfortable you’d gotten with him.

You still had a duty to your country and your family, which meant at least a little to you. Plus, it wasn’t fair to make a promise to Prince Nikolai, only to leave him hanging when he returned to Ravka.

You were leaning against the deck railing, watching the way the moonlight bounced over the still waters. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t register Sturmhond’s approaching footsteps.

“A bit chilly for stargazing, isn’t it?” He asked, coming to stand next to you.

You turned to see him, smiling when you noticed he was wearing his signature blue coat. You couldn’t remember a time since you met that he wasn’t dressed to the nines, no matter what time of day it was.

“You know, for a pirate, you don’t really look like one.”

He grinned, gently correcting you. “A privateer, darling, not a pirate. There’s a difference, I assure you.”

“Ah, a privateer. How could I have forgotten?” You chuckled, hugging yourself in an effort to shield your arms from the biting cold. “But seriously. The emerald on your finger is the size of a walnut, and that coat is fit for royalty. I find it hard to believe a privateer does well enough to afford things as nice as those.”

“Maybe I’m just good at my job,” he retorted, that signature smirk on his face.

It was enough to stir butterflies in your stomach, making you turn to look back out at the water. His gaze lingered on you a moment, and you could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks under the weight of his stare.

“You’re cold,” he observed, breaking the silence.

“I’m fine,” you tried to say, but Sturmhond interrupted you.

“I can practically hear your teeth chattering,” he laughed, shrugging his coat from his shoulders. “Here. Seeing as my coat is fit for royalty, as you say, I think it’ll suit you better.”

“Sturmhond—”

“Princess,” he mirrored, smirking when you relented, letting him place it around your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

You turned away from the water to face him, leaning back against the bannister. His eyes flitted up and down your form at his coat wrapped around shoulders, before his eyes met yours. He took a seat on the crate behind him, leaning back and settling into the post next to him. It was quiet a moment before he finally spoke.

“You weren’t in your cabin at dinner. Where have you been?”

You sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat. “Thinking.”

“Thinking? About what?”

“About my future,” you said shakily, shoulders slumping. “Both the imminent one, and the one to follow based on what I decide tonight.”

Sturmhond nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, if I’m being honest.”

You raised a brow at his words. He’d been thinking about your future? He’d been thinking about you? The thought was both intriguing and terrifying, and you hoped the confusion on your face wasn’t too apparent.

“Well, I…I’m sorry, what?”

“Your future directly impacts me,” he quickly corrected, suddenly steeling his face and meeting your confusion with his usual grin. “Where you go I go, remember? You are paying me, after all.”

You tried to hide your disappointment, forcing a smile. It was a foolish hope to have, that he’d think something more of you. But it wasn’t a hope you were ready to give up.

Not just yet, at least.

He seemed to notice your disappointment, brows furrowing. “Have I upset you?”

“No,” you quickly replied, trying to brush it off with a laugh. “No, it’s not you. I’m just not quite sure what I should do. I know you need an answer, and Ravka needs an answer, but…I don’t have one yet.”

“Why?”

You shook your head, sighing in frustration. “Earlier, I had more than halfway made up my mind. I value my freedom, but I think I value my dignity more. I don’t think I could go anywhere and face anyone, knowing I’ve turned my back on my duties. It may have not been a promise I made for myself personally, but it is a promise I had every intention of keeping.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, a genuine look of concern on his face.

His eyes softened on you as your face fell, and you turned away from him as you felt heat creep up to your cheeks. You could hear him stand and approach you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Princess?” He asked, only worsening your embarrassment.

He spoke again, finally getting you to acknowledge him. “You’re worrying me, darling. Surely it cannot be that bad.”

“But it is,” you groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes to stave off the tears you could feel brewing.

“Try me,” he said gently, carefully placing a hand on your arm. “You can tell me the truth. What’s stopping you from returning to Ravka?”

You could feel his touch even through the coat, which struck you like a punch to the gut when you remembered it was, in fact, his coat you were wearing. And to make it worse, that damned grin was on his face as he spoke with such a genuine kindness in his voice that it made you want to cry.

You finally met his eyes, taking a sharp breath. Shit, you thought to yourself. You were really going to admit it. He eagerly awaited your response, which you finally managed to utter.

“You.”

He sucked in a breath, withdrawing his hand. He looked up at the sky for a moment, before taking another breath and turning back to you.

“Me?” He asked.

“You,” you said again, exasperatedly laughing. “You, and your ridiculous clothes, and your infuriating charm, and your kindness and ambition…that damned smile.”

Sturmhond’s cheeks flushed, and he took a step back, although he was grinning like a fool. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. You didn’t dare speak, waiting for him to say something. After an agonizing moment of silence, he leaned against the bannister, letting out a chuckle.

“What?” You forced yourself to ask, preparing yourself for his answer.

“Saints, Princess…you’ve gone and done it now.”

You shook your head, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. “What?”

“You’ve managed to outdo me. On my own ship. Quite the feat, I’ll give you that,” he laughed, still grinning.

You narrowed your eyes, still shaking your head. “Sturmhond, I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re saying to me right now. Will you do the honor of enlightening me, or are you going to stand there grinning at me all night?”

“You like my grin,” he mused, making you flush.

He spoke again, saving you from your embarrassment. “And it just so happens that I like yours, too. I like all of you. Very much so indeed, Princess.”

Your heart lurched into your throat at his words, and you had to grab ahold of the bannister behind you to keep yourself steady. He placed his hand over top of yours, his palm warming yours.

“I cannot believe you beat me to the punch. It’s rude to upstage a captain on his own ship. You’re lucky you’re royalty. I’ll allow it just this once.”

You had just now calmed your breathing, beginning to take in the weight of his words, and what it meant for you both. “Sturmhond, I—”

“I have a confession to make,” he suddenly said in a very serious tone, startling you. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I must tell you something before either of us share something we can’t take back.”

“Alright…” You said uneasily.

Carefully, he took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You let him hold it, waiting for him to speak. Absentmindedly, you comfortingly ran your thumb along the back of his hand, silently reassuring him.

“My name isn’t Sturmhond,” he finally said, the nerves in his voice the worst you had ever heard them.

Trying not to jump to any hasty conclusions, you nodded, squeezing his hand once more. “Alright…if it isn’t Sturmhond, then what is it?”

“Well, technically it is, but it also isn’t. It’s just a nickname—” He rambled, and you placed your other hand on top of his to stop him.

“I gathered that much. What else are you trying to tell me? Go on, you can say it.”

He took a deep breath, his voice soft. “It’s true that people call me Sturmhond, but I’m much better known for my birth name…Nikolai. Nikolai Lantsov.”

The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. You tried not to flinch in his grasp, but you knew he could feel you stiffen. You cleared your throat, feeling your voice begin to grow hoarse

“Nikolai Lantsov…as in Prince Nikolai Lantsov, second son of the Ravkan throne? Moi tsarevich,” you croaked out, attempting to curtsy.

“Please,” Nikolai said, holding both your hands in his to keep you from bowing. “There is no need for such formalities, darling. If anything, I should be the one bowing to you.”

You stood up straight, shaking your head. “We’re long past that, don’t you think?”

He chuckled, nodding. “I suppose so.”

The reality of your situation began to set in, and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling along with him. He smiled at the sound, raising a brow.

“What is it?”

“I suppose my little dilemma is solved then,” you said, shrugging. “I was beginning to spiral, thinking my annoying habit of not being able to contain my feelings had ruined any decision I could have made. But of course—in your usual fashion—you’ve managed to upstage me. As is your right, it is your ship, after all. Well, I suppose there’s no decision to make now. At least, I think there isn’t…right?”

Any nerves you had mustered up were immediately squashed when Nikolai brought his hands up to cup your face, running his thumbs across the tops of your cheeks.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take you wherever you wanted to go. All I can hope now is that you’ll allow me to join you…wherever that is.”

You brought a hand up to rest against his wrist. “Don’t you want to go home? You’re expected back in Ravka any day now.”

“I love my country, but I’m in no hurry to return. You’ve told me multiple times how dreadful court was for you—”

“That doesn’t matter,” you quickly said, squeezing his wrist.

“Of course it does! I cannot ask you to return to a country you’ll be miserable in for the rest of your days for a man you barely know.”

“It’s a good thing you aren’t asking, then,” you reaffirmed, giving him a smile. “I told you. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. I said that I was afraid I would be all alone at court, and that I was afraid the man I am promised to wouldn’t want a life with me.”

“What a fool he’d have to be to not want that,” Nikolai joked, making your grin widen.

You continued to reassure him, not convinced that he was believing your words.

“You say that you’ll follow me wherever I go. Well, I want to go with you. Wherever that is. And I want you to go home. I may have not known you for long, but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you won’t truly be content if you’re tied to my wishes. And I know you’re too stubborn to admit that, so I’ll tell you my wishes, and I need you to believe me. I wish to be with you. I wish for you to return to wherever feels like home, and I wish for you to take me with you. If that’s Ravka, then Ravka will be home. Court will become much more bearable with you there. And if it begins to become too much, I know a certain privateer that can whisk us away for a few days.”

He was doing it again. Smiling like an idiot. He seemed to be in disbelief at your words, this being one of the very few times in his life that he couldn’t find the right words to say.

“I didn’t mean to trick you, Princess. I should have told you who I was from the beginning.”

You shook your head. “I don’t blame you, Nikolai. If I was given the chance, I wouldn’t have told you who I really was, either. At least, not until I knew I could trust you. I would have done the same as you did. It’s alright.”

“I can’t believe my luck,” he grinned, taking your hand. “How is it that my betrothed managed to stumble upon my ship the very hour I returned to Ravka?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not one to believe in fate, and it sounds impossible.”

“Not impossible…improbable,” he corrected, smirking when you playfully narrowed your eyes up at him.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile at your turn of luck. “Are we doing this? Are you going home to Ravka?”

“Are we going home, you mean? I can’t be expected to abandon my betrothed when she turns out to be the single most invigorating person I’ve ever met, now can I?”

“You cannot,” you agreed.

A comfortable moment of silence passed between you both, and you looked down at his hands as you held them in yours. The familiar glint of green on his finger made you chuckle.

“I knew it, by the way,” you added, grinning. “This coat and that ring are far too ridiculous for a privateer. They’re fit for royalty. Fit for a Lantsov.”

“Am I to understand that you’re not interested in a Lantsov emerald for your engagement ring?” He asked, smirking when you quickly shook your head.

You laughed, pulling his hand closer to inspect his ring. “I said nothing of the sort. I was merely observing how ridiculous it is, as well as this coat. But I’m still wearing it, aren’t I? If I’m going to be married to a ridiculous man, I should begin preparing now, shouldn’t I?”

He narrowed his eyes, playfully jutting his chin up at you. “You just like the coat and want to keep it. It’s alright, darling, you can admit it. We can have your own fitted for you, all you have to do is ask.”

Nikolai gripped the hem of your sleeve, tugging you closer by the arm of his coat. You let him pull you, chuckling nervously when he drew you nearer.

“I admit nothing, only that my future husband has a taste I will have to acquire. But I’m sure I’m up for the task. We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

“We do,” he smiled, settling his hands around your waist. “Although I’ll have to admit, I don’t think we know each other well enough to become husband and wife.”

You tensed under his hold, and he quickly retracted his statement, shaking his head. He didn’t give you enough time to truly panic, interrupting your train of thought.

“And that’s perfectly fine, darling. Like you said, we have all the time in the world to get to know each other. I think I’d like to take advantage of that starting now. After all, it is our last night on the ship, isn’t it? At least, I assume it is. I expect you’ll want to set a course for Ravka now. Unless you’d rather I get down on one knee, and make a big show of it first. I can do that, if you wish.”

“I certainly wouldn’t stop you,” you chuckled, letting your hands rest on top of his as your tone shifted to a more serious note. “Are we really doing this, Nikolai? Returning to Ravka? Getting married?”

He smiled wider, a twinkle in his eye as he looked down at you. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you stepped foot on my ship, the second I laid eyes on you. And I’ve wanted you more every day since. I’m not one to believe in fate either, but I do think the Saints may have gifted you to me. Who knows what I did to deserve it, but you most definitely won’t find me questioning their will if you’re the result.”

You felt your heart swell at his words. He was right. Of all the ships in the harbor, his was the one you found yourself on. Of all the captains in Ravka, he was the one who took you in. The man you were supposed to marry, and you found yourself falling for him long before you even knew who he truly was. If that isn’t fate, then what is?

“I’ll take all the influence from the Saints I can get when it comes to explaining to your parents why I’ve disappeared right out from under them,” you said with a groan, leaning into him.

Nikolai chuckled, holding you close. “My Mother will forget all about it when she sees my future safely secured with marriage. There is no need to worry, trust me.”

“I may not have to worry about her, but I do need to worry about Tamar,” you said, letting out a pained chuckle. “I think she staked money on our little situation.”

“She most definitely did. I expect Tolya will be paying up when they hear the news. Who should break it to him?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I think that duty lies with you, as my future husband. If I’m going to have to listen to Tamar’s endless bragging about being right, then you should have to take half the burden in the form of telling Tolya. That’s how marriage works, isn’t it? Half and half. It’s only fair.”

It was his turn to groan now as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, taking yours in the other.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but you have to accompany me. I think your presence will help soften the blow. What do you say, darling? After all…it’s only fair.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, squeezing his hand. “If I must. You’re lucky you’re pretty, Lantsov.”

“Darling, I’m lucky for a lot more than that,” he smiled endearingly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

— A/N - Hi! This is SO long, I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been busy and had no time to write. But I finally forced myself to get this done, and now I have more time to write! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you think! Thank you again for the requests :)

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