#it’s just easier for me to follow when there are Sounds and Voices attached to the events that r happening

[sugarwarachan]

hot for teacher

pairing: shouta aizawa x f!reader

summary: You’re not expecting your day to fall to pieces at 8:21 a.m., but life hasn’t really been going your way lately. A string of lackluster dates, followed by two dead vibrators (with missing cords!), and the only outlet left for your mounting sexual frustration—the smut blog you diligently update—has been discovered by the one person you never wanted to find it: fellow teacher Shouta Aizawa. Who might just be the inspiration behind most of the fantasies you post about.

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: coworkers-to-lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, forced proximity, there was only bed trope, explicit smut, phone sex, bondage, impact play, degradation, use of slut and whore, D/s, subspace, aftercare

There is nothing on this earth you hate more than Mondays.

You’re meant to be horizontal in bed, wearing fuzzy socks, holding a steaming mug of tea, and cuddling your cats. You’re not supposed to be blearily stirring sugar into subpar coffee and thinking about lesson plans.

“Ugh,” you groan under your breath.

Fellow teacher Shouta Aizawa's low voice sounds off behind you. “Bad morning already?”

Oh good god, you’re not ready to see him this early.

You’re fully aware that your crush on him is debilitating. You have no idea why you’re rendered incapable of speech the second he walks into the room, because you never have a problem with literally any other man. You can flirt easily. Hell, you’re good at flirting—when it’s low-stakes and there’s no risk of attachment.

But you like Aizawa. He's stern and kind and deliciously muscled, and lately every sexual fantasy sprinting through your head features him.

Which has occasionally bled into the characters you write about on your blog.

You turn over your shoulder. He’s wearing his usual combination of dark slacks and dark button-up. He’s taken to wearing it with the sleeves rolled up, which has been detrimental for your libido. “Something like that.”

“Hmm.”

He starts making coffee, which should not accelerate your heart rate the way it does. He’s standing next to you, you remind yourself, not pressing you up against the counter.

You shut that thought down instantly.

“Good morning for you?” You try for small talk to avoid focusing on the hammering of your pulse.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swear you see a hint of a smirk before it drops away.

“An interesting morning, I’d say.”

He slides his phone over to you with one finger, the pinned post of your Tumblr flashing under your eyes.

Your heart drops so far out of your stomach that it probably enmeshes itself in the earth’s crust.

“So. Which character is most like me?”

This cannot be happening to you.

You’ve never once used his name. You’ve never even described him (although he is the placeholder for nearly every dark-haired stoic man you write about).

But you distinctly remember a late-night confessional post about your crush on a colleague, and you almost vomit.

Your mind trips over itself, trying to find a denial or a lie, but all you can think, staring down at Aizawa’s phone, is that you want desperately to be back in your bed this morning and for this to not be happening at all.

“Ummm.”

He doesn’t even reward that with a blink while you keep standing there cramming your brain back into your ears.

“It’s not what you think,” finally tumbles out.

Oh dear fucking god, that’s the best you can come up with?

Aizawa raises one dark brow. He takes a sip of coffee, and you try your hardest not to notice the way his forearm tenses.

“It’s not?”

You really wish he was even the slightest bit easier to read, but as usual, his stoic expression gives away nothing.

Time to stall.

“This is an incredibly inappropriate thing to be discussing at work,” you say, surprising yourself at how annoyed you sound. You are, you realize, a little bit angry. He thrust your personal blog in your face and just assumed some of it was about him? When you finally bring yourself to look at him, he’s shocked, or as shocked as Shouta Aizawa gets. “Since it’s personal, I will discuss it with you after work. I’ll be at the cafe down the street, the one with the good scones. Don’t be late.”

You stomp out of the teacher’s lounge on shaky legs and pray you can keep it together for seven more hours.

By the time you get to the cafe, you’ve gone through more nausea medication than is perhaps healthy for the average human, but you don’t want to lose what little of your lunch you choked down all over Aizawa’s lap.

You rehearsed the conversation a hundred times—in your head, over the phone with Mirko, who needed to pause every ten seconds to wheeze with laughter—but nothing really prepares you for telling a colleague they inspire your smut fics.

As soon as he sits down, your curiosity wins out over your shame. “How did you even find it?”

“Oh.” He runs a hand along the back of his head. “Mic found it.”

You raise an eyebrow. Who?

“Yamada,” he answers. “We hosted a radio show back in college together. That’s what he called himself.”

“Did they call you something?”

His ears turn pink. “Um. Yeah. Eraserhead.”

“Eraserhead?”

“Just Mic being Mic.” He waves a hand, but the tips of his ears remain a cute shade of scarlet. You don’t know why that heartens you, but it does. At the end of the day, he’s just some guy, not a fucking deity.

“How did he find it?”

Aizawa clears his throat. “He’s a weirdo.”

You file away that non-answer for later.

“Why aren’t you freaking out at me?” you ask in frustration.

His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I’m your colleague, and I’ve written filthy fucking shit while thinking about you,” you whisper heatedly, jabbing one finger into the table. What is he not getting? “Doesn’t that creep you out?”

“I know what you’ve been doing,” he says, and his eyes drop to your lips. Your mouth dries up. “And no, it doesn’t creep me out.”

You take a sip of water to restart your brain.

“I should apologize to you,” he says. “For bringing it up like that. You were right, it was very unprofessional. I was curious and not thinking straight.”

“What were you curious about?”

He takes a moment to answer. “If you’re satisfied, I suppose.”

“Satisfied?” you squeak. You’ve written smut that could make paint peel, and yet you're flushed and near trembling from the mere suggestion that Shouta Aizawa has considered whether or not you’ve cum recently.

“Mmhmm.” He taps two fingers in between you and before you know it, you’re laying your hand out for him to grab. He turns up your palm and starts to gently massage it with one thumb. “This okay?”

You nod. His touch is warm and rough. You fight not to sink into it.

“I asked because I’m attracted to you, and I believe you’re attracted to me, and we have similar interests.” His gaze is a direct contrast to his touch; you’ve never seen him look uncertain, but there’s a hint of it in the way he softly holds your eyes. He looks down and lets go of your hand. “If what you write is merely a fantasy, and I’m being presumptuous—“

“You aren’t. It’s not just fantasy.” Your cheeks feel like they’re 110 degrees. “I just—I never expected this.” You flap your hands in between the two of you.

“Yeah,” he laughs, and the sound knocks the air from your lungs. “I wasn’t either." He looks at you far longer than is appropriate in the middle of the day in a cafe, but you can't look away. Of all things, you want to hold his hand again.

His phone rings loudly. He sighs at the caller ID. "I have to run, but I’ll call you later, if that's all right with you." You shoot for a nod that does not come off as extremely eager, but your shit-eating grin gives you away. "We’ll talk more about what to do about us, too.”

The bell to the cafe rings as he leaves, but you barely hear it over the thundering of your heart.

(･ω･)つandy's notes: this is so self-indulgent and delicious and I really hope you all enjoy 😘 the posting schedule for this will be Mon/Fri. let me know if you want to be on the taglist <3.

[kittenlittle24]

Roommates

Warming: smut

As usual, gifs aren’t mine! Likes, comments and reblogs warm my heart

Masterlist

Every cell in your body was tired, your feet were killing you from being on heels for the last week, your patience was worn out after seven consecutive days with stuck-up people, your neck and back were cramped from the flight and all you wanted was to get home and curl up in bed.

Paying the cab driver, you noticed the orange bike parked outside the apartment building, meaning your boyfriend came home early from work.

Unlocking the door, you entered and put your suitcase aside. Greeted by your boyfriend sitting on the armchair reading a medical journal about cardiology.

“Oh goodie, you’re back, be a dear and put this on the door handle outside,” he asked, holding out his stethoscope.

Scrunching your eyebrows you chose not to question and just nod and follow his request. Then you sat down on the armrest, one arm rested his shoulder, and played with his hair while the other stroked his cheek down to play with his shirt collar.

“Missed me?” You asked as you opened the top button.

Looking down at your hand, then at your cleavage, and lastly your eyes, “Kinda busy.”

Stopping your actions and raising your eyebrows in surprise, “You’re declining sex?”

Pretending to think it over, he reached over to sneak his hand under your shirt and single-handedly unhooked your bra.

“If you put it that way,”

Laughing you took off your shirt and bra along with it before standing up, taking his hand in yours, and pulling him towards your bedroom.

You lay down on your bed, he immediately placed open-mouth kisses down your neck and then chest. “No need for these,” he said slowly. His voice was grave as he tugged on your pants and you nodded, quickly getting off him. He helped tug them down and your underwear came with it.

reaching a hand to his hair, deepening the kiss as you moved your position. Carefully straddling his lap, you subtly rocked yourself down against him. His hands immediately came to your hips, squeezing tightly. Stroking your hands down his neck, you began to undo the dress shirt he had on, one button at a time. You teased him when you got to the bottom of his shirt, having to pull it out from being tucked in, you lingered your fingertips around his waistline, tracing around the top of his belt slowly. You kept your kisses deep and sweet, taking in every second. Pressing your hands teasingly up his chest before cupping his checks. You looked at Greg and then to his lips. You moved closer and closer to him, eventually kissing him, keeping your lips hardly apart, “No foreplay, I need you.”

His hand was on your waist, pushing you down against his now hard cock.

He took a hold of his cock, before pushing it against your entrance. You moaned, looking into his blue eyes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him, sinking lower and lower on his length.

He moaned into the kiss. His tongue entered your mouth, exploring it. You circled your hips against his. You pulled away, closing your eyes as you picked up speed. Lips attached to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

Low grunts came from him. You ran your hand through his head, pushing him closer. You bounced on his cock, moans and whimpers left your lips and it sounded like heaven to him. Seeing you riding his cock, making all those pretty sounds for him, he could come right then.

Moving you to lay on your back, You reached your arms around him, feeling his broad shoulder blades. Spreading your legs slightly, you felt his hips touch yours, you let go of him for a moment to align with you before he returned on top of you and you wrapped your legs around him. You dropped your jaw feeling every inch of him sink in while he kissed up your neck roughly, impatient already, one hand tangling in your hair messily, as the other felt its way down to the back of your thigh adjusting your position a little to make it easier. 

“Greg,” your voice was shaky as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Digging your nails into his shoulder and bicep, you moaned in bliss kissing his neck. Gently starting to move his hips, you relaxed at the suddenly beautiful feeling rushing through your body. He was busy kissing your jawline as his pace became rougher. 

He continued his rough pace, you gasped, arching your back and rolling your shoulders back feeling his fingertips press deep into your back as he held you there for a moment. You pushed your chest up against him and couldn’t help wanting to touch every inch of him. Scratching your nails down his back as he buried his face against your neck.

Teeth gripping against your tender skin, you cum seconds before he does. He rested his forehead on yours, your sweat mingling as you both catch your breath. He waited a few minutes before he pulled out of you, kissed your temple, and went to the bathroom to bring a damp cloth to clean you both.

It was your stomach growling that pulled you out of your nap. You grabbed the first shirt you could find, which happened to be one of Greg’s graphic tees and a pair of panties before making your way to the kitchen.

“Greg? You want to go grab some-“You paused upon seeing a brown-haired man in a suit washing dishes.

Staring at each other in surprise you missed House coming up behind you.

“Wilson, meet y/n.” He introduced.

Reaching to shake his hand, “I assume Greg didn’t mention me, I’m his girlfriend. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to put on some pants.” You say awkwardly and rush back to the bedroom.

Wilson quickly pulled him to the kitchen and whispered shouted at House, “How long have you been with her?”

“Met her when Stacy and I were in Baltimore.” House shared.

"So you moved your hooker into the apartment just to make me miserable? I can find my own place if you’d stop deleting my messages."

"She's not a hooker." He admitted quietly looking anywhere but at his friend.

“She’s the reason you sent Stacy away,” Wilson concluded.

House sighed and nodded, he was saved from the conversation when you came back to the kitchen, “Anyone hungry?

Smiling wildly at you, “I’ll cook.” Wilson volunteered.

“You’re our guest, you shouldn’t cook for-“

Greg interrupted you, “Y/n, he offered, don’t insult him. Let the man cook.”

Both Wilson and you rolled your eyes.

“You can help by keeping me company and telling me about yourself,“ Wilson suggested.

Grinning you agreed.

[sturnsblogs]

ALL OF IT

Loser!Matt x Popular!Reader

—

Matt’s been avoiding you since that night.

At first, you didn’t want to believe it. You thought maybe he was just busy, or tired, or being his usual nonchalant self. But it wasn’t just in your head anymore. The signs were there—loud and clear.

He was dry over text. Short replies. Delayed responses. You’d text him something dumb like, “this reminded me of you lol” with a meme attached, and he’d just hit you with a “lol” and nothing else. He had even turned off his read receipts, which was unlike him. Matt liked messing with you too much to do that—until now.

Still, you told yourself he couldn’t avoid you completely. You still had school. You still sat near each other in history. You still passed each other in the halls. That meant something… right?

Today, when you walked into class, your eyes scanned the room automatically. And there he was.

Leaning back in his chair, hoodie pulled over his head, earbuds in. But you could still see the side of his face, his jaw, that little mole near his temple. The sight of him still made your stomach flip.

So you smiled. Small, barely there, and waved slightly—just a flick of your fingers in his direction.

Matt looked at you. Just for a second.

And then he gave you a tight-lipped smile. Cold. Distant. One of those “please stop looking at me” smiles. And then he looked away.

Your stomach dropped a little. But you played it off, walking past him like it didn’t bother you. Like it didn’t sting.

When the teacher assigned partner work, the both of you were put together. Of course. Because the universe was cruel like that.

You hesitated walking over to him, but eventually sat down beside him at the back of the classroom.

He didn’t look up. Just mumbled, “Hey.”

You cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hey.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should’ve.

“So,” you said, gesturing toward the worksheet, ��you wanna just split it down the middle?”

Matt shrugged. “Sure. Whatever’s easier.”

You tried to laugh lightly. “Wow. Don’t sound too excited.”

He didn’t even crack a smile.

You glanced at him. “Matt… are you mad at me or something?”

He blinked, still not looking directly at you. “No.”

“You sure? Because you’ve been—different.”

He finally looked at you. His expression was unreadable. “Nothing’s wrong. We’re good.”

But his tone said otherwise. Cold. Detached.

You clenched your jaw. “Okay,” you said quietly, trying not to sound hurt.

You both worked in silence for a few more minutes, pencils scratching on paper. But your eyes kept flickering toward him. The way he wouldn’t meet your gaze. The way he wouldn’t even sit as close to you as he used to. No joking, no teasing, no warmth. Just a wall.

Finally, you whispered, “Do you regret it?”

Matt didn’t answer for a long moment. Then he let out a breath through his nose, still not looking at you. “Can we not do this here?”

“No,” you said again, firmer this time. “We are doing this here, Matt.”

He didn’t even look up from the paper, just dropped his pencil and leaned back in his chair with a sigh that felt like a punch to the gut. “I’m not doing this shit.”

Your heart stopped for a second. “What?”

“I’m not having some dramatic-ass conversation in the middle of class,” he said, finally meeting your eyes—but his gaze wasn’t soft. It was cold, clipped. “I don’t wanna talk about it, I don’t care about it, and I don’t have anything else to say.”

You blinked, taken aback by how harsh he sounded. “Matt—”

“I said drop it,” he muttered, grabbing his stuff and standing up as the bell rang.

The rest of the day felt like a blur. You barely heard anything in your next classes. You checked your phone obsessively—no texts from him. Not even a dumb meme. Nothing.

By the time the final bell rang, your chest was tight with everything unsaid. So when you saw him outside, standing with his friends by the bike racks, laughing about something, you didn’t think twice. You just walked over.

“Matt,” you called, nervous but trying to sound calm.

He turned, mid-laugh, his face falling the second he saw you. His friends looked between you and him like they already knew what was coming.

“I just wanna talk,” you said, eyes pleading. “Can we please just—”

Matt shook his head, cutting you off before you could say anything else. “No. You don’t get it, do you?”

You froze. “Get what?”

He looked at you like you were something on the bottom of his shoe. And then he said it. Sharp. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I just don’t fucking like you.”

You stopped breathing. For a second, the world actually stopped spinning.

He kept going. “It was a one-time thing. We hooked up, whatever. That doesn’t mean anything. So stop acting like we’re something, because we’re not.”

His friends chuckled behind him. Like it was funny. Like you were just another stupid girl.

You felt like you were shrinking in real time. Your throat tightened, but you refused to cry in front of him.

“Got it,” you whispered, and turned around.

You didn’t look back. Not once. But Matt did.

He watched you walk away, jaw clenched, regret already curling in his stomach like poison.

Because none of that was true. And he knew it.

Your phone buzzed later that night.

[9:46 PM] Matt:

ik i’m probably the last person you wanna hear from right now

i’m sorry

You stared at the screen. Your heart thudded in your chest, fingers frozen above your keyboard.

[9:47 PM] Matt:

i didn’t mean any of that shit i said earlier

i was being a dick

i just panicked

He didn’t stop.

[9:48 PM] Matt:

you didn’t do anything wrong

it’s me

i’m just not good at any of this

like… caring about someone. letting people close

i always mess it up or they leave or they stop caring back

i don’t wanna get attached just to lose it all

You blinked back tears, throat tight.

[9:49 PM] Matt:

but i already got attached to you and that scares the shit outta me

you’re not just some random thing to me. you never were

that night meant something. i just didn’t know how to handle it

A pause. Then the last message.

[9:50 PM] Matt:

i’m sorry i made you feel like you weren’t enough. you’re too much actually. in the best way

i miss you

Your screen dimmed slightly, but you just stared, hands trembling a little.

Because for the first time… you realized he wasn’t pushing you away because he didn’t care.

He was pushing you away because he did.

You stared at his last message for what felt like forever.

Your fingers hovered, then moved before you could second-guess it.

[9:53 PM] You:

i don’t wanna talk to you anymore matt.

It was silent for maybe ten seconds. Then your phone started blowing up.

[9:53 PM] Matt:

wait what??

no

please don’t say that

i know i messed up but please don’t shut me out

i’m sorry

i swear i didn’t mean any of it

i was just scared and i didn’t know how to act

you mean more to me than anyone else right now and that freaked me out

You locked your phone. Chest tight. Eyes blurry.

It buzzed again.

[9:54 PM] Matt:

i’ve never liked someone like this before and i hate how i handled it

but please don’t pretend i don’t matter to you now

please don’t let that be the last thing i said to you

Then another.

[9:55 PM] Matt:

if i could take it back i would. every single word.

look, i’ll do anything. just don’t leave like this.

don’t give up on me.

You just read the messages—every single one of them—and closed the app.

He didn’t deserve a reply. Not yet. Not after what he said in front of everyone.

“I just don’t fucking like you.”

Those words echoed way louder than any apology ever could.

So you left him on read.

Your phone buzzed again a few hours later. You didn’t check it. You were curled up in bed, hoodie on, blanket up to your chin, scrolling through nothing just to keep your mind busy.

Then there was a knock at the front door.

You froze.

Another knock. Louder this time.

And then, faintly, through the walls: “It’s Matt.”

You didn’t move at first. Maybe he’d leave. Maybe your parents would yell at him and that’d scare him off.

But then you heard the front door open—of course, your parents didn’t even bother to care—and next thing you knew, there were footsteps on the stairs.

Your bedroom door creaked open.

Matt stepped in, out of breath like he ran the whole way. His eyes found you instantly, sitting on your bed with your knees tucked to your chest.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You didn’t say anything.

He stepped closer. And before you could blink, he was in front of you, crouching down slightly, cupping your cheeks gently between his hands.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, just let me say sorry. Let me fix this.”

You looked up at him—his eyes were glassy, jaw clenched, like he was holding something in. You didn’t speak. Just stared.

“I’ll get on my knees if you want me to,” he added quickly, voice breaking a little. “I swear I will. I don’t care if it’s pathetic. Just don’t shut me out.”

The corners of your lips twitched, but you pressed them together fast. Because, truthfully? You wouldn’t mind seeing that.

You stayed quiet, just blinking up at him.

He searched your face like he was trying to figure out what you were thinking. Then his thumb brushed against your cheekbone—so soft it hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “For everything.”

His voice cracked. “I’m sorry for being a coward.”

You still hadn’t said a word.

And that silence was killing him.

“Do you hate me?” he finally asked.

You bit your bottom lip.

“No,” you whispered.

“But I wanted to.”

His eyes closed for a moment, like even that tiny answer was enough to pull the air back into his lungs.

“You can still make me work for it,” he murmured. “Yell at me. Punch me. I don’t care. Just don’t give up on me.”

Matt’s hands were still cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing just beneath your eyes, and he wasn’t blinking. He looked desperate. Like losing you would physically destroy him.

“Do you want me to get on my knees?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I will. I swear I will.”

You didn’t respond.

You just blinked at him. Quiet. Still.

And that silence?

He took it as a yes.

Without another word, Matt dropped to his knees in front of you. Right there on the bedroom floor.

His hands slid to rest lightly on your thighs, head tilted slightly up to look at you. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t teasing. His brows were pulled together, and his jaw tightened like he was bracing for whatever came next.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “For saying that. For acting like you didn’t mean anything. I didn’t mean it—any of it.”

You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I got scared,” he continued. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I didn’t know what to do with it. So I did the one thing I always do—ruin it before it can ruin me.”

You didn’t speak.

Your eyes just stared at him—this boy, who never let anyone close, kneeling in front of you like you were the only thing that mattered.

And maybe you were.

Maybe, deep down, you always had been.

Matt let out a shaky breath, voice quieter now. “You don’t have to forgive me. But I needed you to know… I never stopped wanting you.”

Your heart slammed in your chest.

Still, you stayed quiet.

and he stayed on his knees, eyes flicking between yours—searching for something, anything. A crack in the silence. A sign that he hadn’t already lost you.

And then, like he couldn’t help it, his voice broke through again. Softer this time. Honest in a way that made your stomach twist.

“I love the way you annoy me,” he said, a breath of a laugh slipping through, like he was scolding himself for even admitting it. “The way you poke my shoulder when I’m trying to focus. The way you talk with your hands like you’re explaining the entire universe.”

You still didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

“I love how you always smell like vanilla,” he added. “And how you act like you hate everyone, but you remember the names of every janitor in the school.”

His fingers tensed a little on your thighs, like he was holding himself back from grabbing you completely.

“I love the little crease you get between your eyebrows when you’re mad. And how you talk shit about your parents like it doesn’t hurt—but I know it does.”

Your lips parted, breath catching.

“I love when you get quiet in the middle of a rant, and then ask me if I’m still listening,” he smiled a little, eyes glossy, “like you don’t realize I always am.”

Your chest ached.

He took a breath. “I love you when you’re in makeup. I love you when you’re not. I love you when you’re pissed at me and even more when you pretend you’re not. I love you when you’re a mess. When you’re needy. When you’re too much for everybody else.”

His voice cracked—barely. Just enough.

“I love you. All of it. All of you.”

And with that, he went quiet.

Still on his knees.

Still waiting.

Like he’d stay there for as long as it took.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t—not with the way your heart was pounding against your ribs like it was trying to claw its way out.

But you nodded.

Barely.

And that was all it took.

Matt surged up from his knees like gravity didn’t apply to him, hands still on your thighs as he stood between them, and then his palms were on your cheeks again—gentle, desperate, warm—and his lips were on yours before you could even catch your breath.

It wasn’t a soft kiss.

It was immediate. Intense. Like he had been waiting for this moment longer than he’d admit.

He kissed you like he meant every single word he just said—like he was afraid this was the last chance he’d get. His thumb brushed your jaw, holding you in place as your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

And for once, everything was quiet.

No yelling.

No confusion.

No pretending.

Just you.

Just him.

Just this.

—

A/N- OKAY FINE FINE FINE ILL START WORKING ON TEACHER!MATT AND MILF!READER 😒

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @le4hsblog @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @cherryystemm @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k @eeyoresturnz @elizasturn @ribread03 @sturnslux3 @costalgirlyr @pizzapocketpocketpizza @arianna1342 @mattsplaything @ed1tssturnn

[goodgrlguides]

A Good Girl's Guide to Carrying Whatever Aura Whenever

A girl's aura is the magnetic pull that brings people to her. Of course, not disregarding her personality and all the good points that make her attractive. But specifically, we're talking about her aura here.

Since a lot of people (including myself) struggle to carry the right aura in the right place, ask yourself these questions:

What aura do I carry online right now? - Private (Personal chats, DMs) - Public - In groups

What aura do I want to carry online? - Private (Personal chats, DMs) - Public - In groups

What aura do I carry in-person right now? - What are people's reactions/body language when they see me? Both men and women.

What aura do I want to carry in-person? - What I want people's reactions/body language to be when they see me? Both men and women.

Then take parts that you already have and incorporate it along with the ones that you want to have.

Besides the reflection, let's get to the part of how to actually do it.

Have you ever been getting ready to go somewhere and had a song to go with it? If you haven't, start doing it.

Different music brings a different feeling through you, and we usually match music with an emotion that you're feeling or one that you want to feel. Which means if you want to feel like a pretty badass businesswoman, you make a playlist or pick a song that embodies that feeling that helps you execute it better.

I hate sounding like a music freak, but music is one of the most powerful tools we've been given besides our minds. Your mind and your music work together to create a perfect atmosphere which also leads to the perfect aura.

First, manage your music. Don't just listen to anyone because it's fun, try your best to listen to music that will empower you rather than depress you. Especially when you begin developing into who you want to become.

Second, make a playlist that embodies the aura you want to carry and carefully choose the songs that go in it. Rather than having to pick out music out of nowhere, create a playlist that you can listen to every morning during your affirmations, whenever you're doing your work/schoolwork or whenever you feel down and want to feel more like yourself.

Third, use ChatGPT as an empowering tool. This sounds like I decided to abort the mission of finding your aura, but surprisingly enough, ChatGPT can be used to help you find out more of yourself. Start by taking a song or songs you want to embody that carry a similar aura and ask ChatGPT this question, "I want to embody ____ by ____, what can I do to get that alluring and mysterious but confident vibe? The style, tone of voice etc." And ask it to elaborate more on parts you don't understand. Always feel free to differentiate your friendly aura and your business/serious aura with different music, using the tips I've given you.

If it makes it easier for you instead of referring to this blog post, the following journal I have created is solely for this journey and includes all the questions and more as well as a section to document your progress regularly.

Find the link for the journal attached here: The Good Girl Guides, Volume 1.

Don't forget to ask ChatGPT to give you a guide that you can follow daily and before you know it, you'll be able to embody whatever aura you want, whenever.

As always, it was a pleasure having you and remember: Be a good girl.

XOXO, Good Girl Guides.

[withlovemark]

“ping!”

synopsis -> jungwoo’s a thousand miles away from you during his bday so you film something ahead of hand for him to watch on his special day.

warnings: masturbation (both male and female), use of dildo

—

jungwoo!’s phone pings! as soon as the clock strikes midnight, a new message coming from you.

my baby ❤️ : happy birthday my love 🥳…sucks that we can’t be together today but i hope this makes up for it <3

[attachment: 1 video]

he clicks the video open, your wet pussy coming into view, jungwoo’s dick shaped dildo, a gift he got for you for when he was away, slowly sliding up and down between your folds, rubbing on your clit.

his eyes widen in shock, mouth salivating, thanking god that he didn’t have to share a room with any of his members tonight as he made himself comfortable on his pillows, hand sneaking under his sweats, pumping to the slow rhythm you have set.

“god baby, im so wet just thinking about you,” you moan, exaggerating just a little bit.

“are you touching yourself right now? imagining your hand is my hand?…or maybe my mouth,” you smirk, teasing him through the screen and he can’t help but mirror your expression, finding it amusing, his cock slowly hardening around his grip.

“gonna push it in now, baby,” you let him know before pushing the dildo inside you, your head rolling back, eyes shutting, at the large invasion, “fuck, you’re so big,” you moan, your walls adjusting to his size.

jungwoo loves the way it disappears in your cunt. he frees his dick, pushing his sweats down, large cock springing up as he grabbed his sock, wrapping it around his member, pretending it was you – though it can never feel as tight and warm as you.

his precum leaks out of his tip, making it easier for him to slide his hands up and down as you continue to rock the dildo back and forth, your whines filling the air…he increases the volume, wanting to be surrounded by sounds you were making, your whimpers adding pressure to his hard cock.

“god, wish you were here baby, this doesn’t feel as good as you,” you whine, jungwoo’s cock twitching in his hand, “want to feel you twitching inside me,” you sigh, picking up the speed as you desperately chased your high, “want your hands wrapped around my neck,” hand travelling to your neck, pretending it was his, “want you sucking on my titties,” you continue, squeezing your nipples in the process, moans spilling out of your lips, as you pumped the dildo faster and faster.

jungwoo follows, quickening the speed of his hand, stomach clenching at the sight of you desperately wanting to cum, “f-fuck baby, want you rubbing on my clit,” you continue, your fingers finding their way to your sensitive bud, rubbing quick circles, your gasps becoming harsher and harsher.

you’re sliding the dildo in and out as fast as you can now, switching it from hand to hand, your hands feelings sore, frustrated cries filling the air, “j-jungwoo baby n-need you here so bad, this is taking too long,” you desperately whine, trying so hard to reach your orgasm.

jungwoo enjoys every second of it, loving the way you were getting frustrated as you fucked yourself over and over again, your eyebrows furrowing, whimpers getting louder and louder. you bring your legs closer to your chest, opening even wider, the dildo going in deeper making you cry out loud as you furiously rubbed circles on your clit, the tension in your stomach building.

god he wished that was him so bad.

jungwoo shuts his eyes, the sound of the dildo spritzing in and out of your juices takes over his imagination as he pumps his cock to your speed, hips thrusting into his hand, heat traveling throughout his body, his jaw slacked open as whimpers of cries slips out of his lips, “feels so good baby,” he moans like you were in the room.

“gonna cum soon,” he hears your soft voice through his phone, his cock pulsating as he continues to chase his own high, toes curling.

“-- come with me baby,” you cry out before your release finally took over, jungwoo following suit, cum getting all over his hands, and shooting onto his belly.

he opens his eyes to the sight of you removing the dildo – now covered in your juices and he swears he’s never wanted to book a flight home as much as he wants to right now.

you inch your face closer to the camera, “happy birthday, my love,” you greet him, soft smile on your face, like you weren’t just fucking yourself on a dildo, and jungwoo’s heart swoons, “i miss you so much, i hope tour is fun, i love youuu!,” you say sweetly, blowing him a kiss, “i’ll see you real soon,” waving at the camera, the sweetest smile on your lips before his screen went pitch black.

he can’t help but replay that last bit a couple of times, his smile getting wider and wider.

–

on the other side of the world, your phone pings! at exactly 12:19 AM – an image of your boyfriend's cock in his hand, white cum all over his belly, and a pout on his lips.

my love 🐶❤️: thank you baby i love you so much

my love 🐶❤️: best. birthday present. ever!

my love 🐶❤️: but my hand doesn’t feel as good as you :(((

my love 🐶❤️: let’s recreate this when i get home 🥵

—

an: happy birthday jungwoo!!! (p.s. first time writing for him, this was fun…can you guys tell i’m trying to write a bday fic for each neo)(p.p.s. is anyone even going to read this?? i swear i don’t even rmr the last time i read a jungwoo smut lololol)

[yuma-mukami-garden-god]

wanna see how the S boys wld react to a physically clingy bride 🙏 myb not the most talkative bride but the kind that always seeks their touch and whatnot

Shu

At first? He’s indifferent.

“You’re clingy…” he drawls, barely cracking an eye open when you curl against his chest again.

But over time, it becomes routine—your fingers slipping under his shirt hem, your head pressing against his ribs like his heartbeat is your favorite sound.

And he lets you. Always.

One night, you shift away for just a moment—and Shu’s arm shoots out to drag you right back.

“…Don’t move.” His voice is gruff, sleepy. “You started this. You stay here.”

That’s the closest he gets to “I need you.”

Reiji

He tolerates it. Barely. At first.

“You are excessively touchy for someone so otherwise mute.”

But the more you do it—gently clinging to his coat sleeve, seeking the safety of his side without saying a word—the more he grows addicted to your silent loyalty.

He’ll sigh, but let your fingers wrap around his pinky when you follow him through the manor.

Eventually, he stops brushing you off altogether.

“Hmph. If you insist on acting like a child, then stay close and do not embarrass me.”

(Secretly: if you don’t cling to him one day, he’ll spiral internally.)

Ayato

At first he thrives on it.

“Oi! Clingy girl! You seriously can’t get enough of Ore-sama, huh?!”

You press your face into his back, arms winding around him wordlessly.

He pretends to scoff.

But he lives for it. He wants you attached at all times.

If you suddenly aren’t touching him? He’ll grab your wrist and force your hand into his.

“The hell’s your problem? You think you can just not cling to me today? Dumbass.”

He needs that affection like oxygen… but he’ll never say it out loud.

Kanato

He LOVES it—until he doesn’t.

At first, he’s delighted by your constant touch. You hold onto his sleeve? He giggles. You lean your head on his shoulder? He goes still, soft, pleased.

“Do it again,” he whispers. “Touch me like that again.”

But if you do it when he’s upset or in a bad mood?

He might snap.

“DON’T TOUCH ME. NOT NOW.”

Then five minutes later, he’s crawling into your lap with Teddy in his arms, sobbing against your neck.

“…I didn’t mean it. Hold me. Hold me tighter.”

Laito

“Oh~? Bitch-chan’s body speaks louder than her mouth ever could, huh?”

He adores it. The way you cling to him wordlessly feels like ownership—and he drinks it in.

You lean on him silently in the library? He kisses your temple and snakes an arm around you, pulling you into his lap.

He whispers dirty things just to see you hide your face against him.

“You’re such a bad girl, always needing to touch me. Want to crawl inside me next?”

But behind the teasing is a possessive edge.

If anyone else gets near? That touch becomes his alone.

Subaru

He panics. Hard.

You touch him, nuzzle him, slide your fingers into his hand without a word—and he goes stiff as a board.

“W-What the hell are you doing?! Don’t just grab me like that!”

But you keep doing it. Quietly. Sweetly.

Over and over.

Until one day, when you don’t?

He grabs your hand first, glaring at the wall.

“…You forgot to hold me today, stupid.”

And when you do? He breathes easier. Calmer. Quieter.

He’ll never admit it, but your silent clinging anchors him.

[t-a-a-1]

The Darkest Hour

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

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?

……..

This story is a slow burn. Eventual smut. Optimus develops an unhealthy attachment (he is smitten, obsessed) to you but nothing OOC. Lots of yearning, craving, hurt, betrayal, erotic and that good stuff. Ok bye. In case of any questions, comments, concerns, suggestions, requests, etc. You may message me here. Thank you for reading!

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

>>>

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60642838/chapters/154846393

Ch.3: Personal Reasons

"So, one dot and a line is 'A' and a line and three dots is 'B'."

You had spent some time with Bumblebee to realize he was speaking in Morse code. You weren't fluent but you thought that studying and learning it should help you become more proficient.

The base is quieter than usual. Everyone but Ratchet was out on a mission to gather Energon. He is always working, you haven't seen him take a break from his enormous computer or what you assumed to be one. That's what you called it because you couldn't find a better word to describe it. Probably a Cybertronian data screen was a better option.

"So, have you found out the function of the ancient relic?"

You walk towards him on the platform. He didn't spare you a single second and kept typing.

"No, but I believe is part of something bigger," Ratchet says as he seems to be reading a scan. "A map may be."

"Interesting," you try to peak on his screen although you know that you won't understand any of it.

"When I was looking over the codes, it didn't say anything about a map. Although I haven't checked the rest of the documents for more information."

"How was a human like you able to decipher ancient codes that led to Cybertronian relics?

You didn't like the sound of the voice, as it belittled you. Thinking about it for two seconds, you decided to give it a pass. You didn't know if he asked out of genuine curiosity or because he was trying to satisfy his superiority complex.

"I don't read Cybertronian but there were some pictures I was able to figure out. After that, it wasn't that difficult really," you remember seeing a few paintings and historical places on the documents provided to you by your government insider. All of them have an inner message related to space. 

"But it's understandable if a Cybertronian can't figure it out. The codes are centered on Earth's nearby celestial bodies. You know, like stars, constellations, comets, meteors, planets."

"That's ... interesting," his tone simulates yours. "If these are Cybertronian relics then why made the codes for something only humans can understand?"

"Well, maybe what we are looking for is not meant to be found by the transformers."

"Maybe, but we should find all the relics before jumping to conclusions," he finally, turns to look at you. A sign to tell you that what he is saying is important. "And find them quickly before the Decepticons find out what we are doing."

"Then we should head out soon."

"This would be easier if the ground bridge was working," Ratchet turns to look at his side. You follow, noticing an arc made of metal. It didn't look like much but according to the doctor bot, it allows travel through the entire Earth in seconds.

"But I've been having trouble trying to fix it."

"At this point, I'll just have to fly myself out there."

"Wait, you can fly?"

He asks with such more genuineness that you find it adorable.

"I mean as taking an airplane."

Ratchet vents heavily, he was disappointed at your answer.

"Well, meanwhile I try to work on the ground bridge. Maybe you can head out with the rest to the second closet location from here."

On the data-screen, a location appears. A relic seems to be inside the Big Bend National Park in Texas. It will take roughly a day to get to oil land.

"Just let me know so I can ask for a few days off work. Although I wish I could help more."

You were never one to stay still in one place. Especially when you see Ratchet working so relentlessly and everyone is out there probably fighting the bad guys.

"If you want to be more efficient, why don't you quit your job and stay here?"

How easy would that be? To just give up and live a life full of excitement and adventures with the Autobots. But you had a rare sense of justice. Within you, it was your duty to tell the truth to the people. They were the lie and you had to expose them. And of course ... getting a little praise on the way.

"Because I need money to buy food. I'll die if I don't eat."

This was also true. It would be hard for him to believe you if you weren't being fully honest.

"If your kind needs 'food' to survive ... Why do you need to work to gain it? Shouldn't it be easily accessible? Free perhaps?"

"Yes, but our civilization is not as advanced with such concepts," you loved changing topics and also seeing the perspective of humans in another species' eyes ... or better say optics.

"How barbaric," Ratchet intonates his voice, it was rather comical to you.

"Agreed."

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of car engines approaching. You look at where the sound is coming from and certainly, the Autobots started showing up.

They transform back to their normal form, standing tall and well beyond 30 feet. You see them more often now but you are still fascinated by them.

Everyone gives you a look, acknowledging your presence.

"How was it?" Ratchet asks. He sees them coming in empty-handed and has already expected an answer. But he asked for more details than results.

"We couldn't find anything," Bulkhead's voice is tired. You didn't even know how that was possible, supposing the machines don't get tired. But you have to remind yourself that they are living creatures. Not things.

"We are running out of Energon reserves."

"What about you? Please tell us some good news," Arcee asks as she looks over to Ratchet.

"Tragically, I have none," Ratchet says, taking the time to step aside from his work to talk to the group. "The groundbringe still needs to be worked on."

Everyone waited for Optimus' orders. After a few moments, he speaks.

"Due that we are low on Energon reserves, (Y/N) and I will search for the next relic. Everyone else shall stay here and continue on the search for Energon."

"The closest relic is one day away," Ratchet looks at his data-screen where a blue dot stands out on the map. "So we better find some Energon by the time you come back."

"I am counting on you."

The Autobots don't say a word. They never needed to in order to understand each other. They can't fail.

.

.

.

You type furiously on your computer as Optimus keeps driving. The are a few bumps on the road, the movement makes your screen shake. It made writing and reading difficult. Your head is starting to hurt for staring too long at the screen but you can't stop.

"You seem distracted."

Optimus voice interrupts your process but you don't take off your eyes from the screen.

"I asked four days off work to come. I've been missing a lot and the only way they would approve my PTO is if I finish two scripts and upload it by tonight."

The next relic should be found in Texas, which is around a day from Nevada without stopping. Yet, you are a bit worried about the bot. You don't know if Optimus gets tired and you wanted to suggest resting somewhere in the woods so he could rest ... or re-charge.

"If you so wished, you could have stayed at the base. You didn't have to come."

He is right. The coordinates of the relic had already been figured out.

"And become more useless than I already am?" you proofread your script. See a couple of mistakes and a few sentences that didn't sound right. You quickly click on the back-space, deleting your previous work. Who would have thought that writing about a grandma turning one hundred could be so difficult?

"Besides, trucks have stops and inspections. What will the transportation officers say when they see an 18-wheeler driving by itself?"

You were so engrossed that Optimus' silence went unnoticed. As you finished writing your script and clicking on the period key, you looked up and noticed the road in front of you. It's starting to get dark. Then you turn to look to the co-pilot seat.

There, you find a young man around your age. Dark blue hair, ocean-eyes. Wearing a white shirt with a denim jacket. He doesn't smile but stares intensely at you.

You scream and throw your computer at him.

"PRIME THERE IS AN UGLY MAN INSIDE!"

The man caught the computer and looks at you with a confused face.

"This is my human hologram form," Optimus says, putting a hand on his chest. You were so used to hearing his voice on his robot or car form that watching it coming from a human version feels strange. "This is the form I use in case I am stopped by the authorities."

You reach out a hand, thinking your hand would go through him. It was not the case as you touched his shoulder. Grasping it so tightly, the clothes felt real. He almost did. But he feels cold and doesn't breathe. His chest nor shoulders move up and down. And his posture is too straight to be that of a human.

This once again reminded you that Cybertronian technology was millions ahead compared to Earth's which was primitive. To them, this was a simple 'hologram' because there wasn't a better word for your species to understand it. To you, this kind of technology was just beyond comprehension.

"If you have this hologram then why keep using cars as a disguise? Wouldn't this be a better way to blend in with our civilization?"

You reach out to take your laptop and take it from the grasp of the hologram quickly. Somehow you trusted Optimus' robotic version more than this hologram man.

"We can only use these holograms within 100 meters of our actual being," Optimus says. "Or if we have someone or something with a transmitter being kept at a close distance."

"I see," you give the hologram a stinky eye and Optimus wonders the reason behind your cold demeanor towards him. "Can you put him back? I like you much more as you actually are."

In the blink of an eye, the hologram disappears and you feel relieved. You didn't notice it but you feel the air of the vents touch your cheeks more strongly.

You were about to go back to work when you heard your stomach make embarrassing sounds. You were hungry, you hadn't eaten all day.

"Hey, Prime, can we make a stop?"

.

.

.

The gas station wasn't the nicest. It smells like piss. But there were burritos and against your lack of better judgment and hunger, you decide to buy one with egg filling. You looked around the store and bought some car stuff just in case Optimus was hungry. He couldn't possibly just drink Energon ... right?

You walk with a plastic bag and a burrito in hand. Opening the door to get inside Optimus' vehicle form. You close the door so no one can hear you talking to 'yourself.'

"Did you find everything you needed?" Optimus asks, anxious to get back on the road.

"Yes, and I also brought you some stuff."

Carelessly, you move the plastic bag upside down, the items falling down on the co-pilot seat.

"I got you oil from all kinds of brands." You also bought a lemon car air freshener. You stood up from your seat and put it in Optimus' rear mirror. "Pick your poison."

You sit back down while taking a big bite of your burrito.

"My apologies but if I were to drink oil, it would impair my ability to drive."

"How? I thought oil was good for cars," you chew into the food, tasting the egg and something else. Another ingredient you didn't ask for.

"Oil is good for maintenance but if we drink large quantities of it, our processor can become disoriented and there can be certain impairment in some functions-"

As Optimus continues talking, you spit the food in your mouth into your hand. On it, you could see scrambled eggs and pieces of steak. Steak that was still too pink for your liking and could still taste the blood on your tongue.

You open Optimus' door and run to the nearest trashcan. Vomiting what you just had and the entire of yesterday's dinner. It wasn't just that the food disgusted you, but the memories that were brought back were still too present. The smell of burned skin. It's as if you've gone back there. The screams, the death, the blood ... The blood in your hands was still too real for it not to affect you.

All the while, the Autobot leader watched, concerned for your safety and most importantly curious about what could make someone like you falter in such ways.

.

.

.

Optimus didn't want to stop, he tried to hide his disappointment but you just knew he was.

He stopped somewhere in the middle of the woods. There was enough space for him to mass-shift back into his regular size. You saw him stretch and move around, it must feel nice to rest after a whole day of driving.

He watched you as you meticulously built up a small bonfire for you. Pulling a 'camping bed roll' and laying it on the grass. You could feel his optics on you. He doesn't even try to hide it. Staring was rude on Earth but you doubted the same thing applied on Cybertron.

"If you want to say something, say it already."

You finished smoking a cigarette and threw the rest of the butt into the bonfire. Sitting on your camping bed, you had also bought a few crackers, chocolate and marshmallows to make s'mores.

"I do not wish for my words to cause you discomfort."

Prime sits a few meters away from you. His back rested against a large trunk tree.

"It causes me discomfort that you keep looking at me," you also didn't want to talk about what happened but you knew Optimus would always think about it every time he saw you. The thought annoyed you, you didn't want him to see you as weak. "You may be a bot but I can tell by your ... Optics that you want to ask something."

Your eyes lay on him. There is a stern expression. Of concern? Curiosity? Pity? All of them three? You couldn't tell and it bothered you.

"Let me guess, it's about me throwing up the burrito right?" you inwardly laugh. Now that you look back, it was so stupid.

"You must be thinking, what kind of person vomits because of a gas station burrito?"

"But it's more common than you think!" you already had a lie planned out. You weren't stupid enough to tell the truth. You didn't trust him. "It just tasted really bad and I don't eat meat. Made me lose my appetite."

To have PTSD because of a steak burrito was not on your to-do list for today. It was ridiculous and stupid. You can usually stand it when you see raw meat but having a taste of it is completely different. You feel pathetic for letting Optimus see you that way.

"I thought most humans enjoyed meat and other types of protein," he wasn't going to let go of the subject too easily. "Why are you different from them?"

"... Personal reasons?"

You didn't think he would care enough to ask any further.

"Personal ... reasons?" he asks, there is confusion in his tone.

"Yes."

"I don't think I understand."

"Well, it's kinda like," you look around and from your marshmallow bag, you take out two marshmallows. "Let's say you are dating someone and then you break up with them."

You move the marshmallows, pretending that they are people. Giving them life by creating a story of them. You put them together and then pull them apart, make them walk and fall.

"Then, I ask why you broke up the relationship and you say personal reasons"

You look up at the metal titan in front of you, he seems more amused by the marshmallows than what you are saying.

"That's like a cue for me to not ask any further questions because you are not ready or you don't want to talk about it," you throw one marshmallow into your mouth, enjoying the softness of it, "It's like a human social cue."

"What is dating?"

Questions and more questions. You would be annoyed but Optimus seems so genuinely curious that you couldn't deny him.

"Well, like," you try to look for the right words but explaining the concept of dating to an alien life was more complicated than you thought. "It's kinda like the time you spend with someone before deciding if you want to spend the rest of your life with them."

Optimus takes a few seconds to process your words.

"I see. Humans and Cybertronians differ on mating rituals."

You didn't like the word 'mating' since it was a term mostly used on animals. But now that you think about it, a robotic alien from a species that had evolved for millions of years may see you as an animal. Either that or he couldn't find a better word.

Nonetheless, the words made you question something. You look up and down at Optimus. Everything seems mechanical to you. Nothing 'natural' about him. But even so, you knew he was a biological begin.

"I hope I am not crossing the line but how exactly do Cybertronians ... reproduce?"

"Reproduce?"

You try to think of another word. From what you can see, Cybertronians don't have any reproductive organs, at least none you can see from the outside. The word 'reproduce' may be foreign to Optimus for that reason.

"As in create a new life?"

He takes a few seconds as if he were thinking of a simple way to explain things to you. You didn't feel offended, on the contrary, you could sympathize. It was difficult to explain to another species how humans work.

"On Cybertron, Sparkmates can build a Sparkling if they so wish. It is a very arduous process but after the construction is done, Primus may bestow a small part of the AllSpark into the transformer and so they come online."

A lot of those terms you didn't understand. But what you could conclude is that the process may be religious, more of a ritual than a natural phenomenon.

"It sounds complicated."

"It is a very hazardous, challenging and exhausting activity," Optimus says as he looks at you and then at the night sky. "But there's also beauty in it."

You take the freedom to look at him. He didn't have eyes as you know but his optics are expressive. Maybe it's the thing you liked the most about him. His optics never lied, it was easy to read and there is some logging in them that almost made you ...

"What about humans?" he looks back at you, unaware of your strange thoughts. "How do humans come to life?"

You look back at your ingredients. Picking up a marshmallow and a stick, you decided these two would be the characters of your story.

"Well, when a man and a woman really ... really love each other," you feel like you are explaining this to a kid but you try to make it as simple as possible.

"They become intimate," you put the stick inside the marshmallow. You take it out and put it in again, in a back-and-forth movement. After a few seconds, you look at Optimus who seems confused. You stop. Maybe you need to be more blunt with him, after all, he was a million-years-old alien robot. Embarrassment may not even be a concept to him.

"And nine months later a baby ... umm a very small human comes out of the woman's belly."

Optimus left the comfort of his seat to move closer to you. His faceplate was so close that you hear his vents and engines move. His optics showed such amusement that you would have allowed him to explore more of you just to satisfy his curiosity.

"Humans have the ability to create life?" Optimus looks at you with awe, his voice softer than usual. "You can give life to a sentient being, with emotions, dreams and hopes? Whenever you wish?"

"Well, I would need a partner first but yes."

After finally taking a deep look at you, he steps back and lays his back on the grass. Laying flat on the ground and having a front view of the night sky with its stars and moon.

"What a great power. Your gods must have certainly loved you to have given you such virtue."

Being able to reproduce another living being was a normal concept for humans. You never consider how difficult must it be for other alien species to conceive life. Especially for those that live millions of years. Humans have a short lifespan compared to that of a Cybertronian. There is no need for them to constantly be having children ... Or Sparklings as they say. Evolution had played them dirty, especially now. That's if they ever plan to repopulate their home planet.

"I wonder ... Since your kind has the ability to create life," Optimus speaks out loud although he seems to be talking to himself more than to you.

"If a Cybertronian and a human were to be intimate as you put it, would a new type of life be born?"

"I think it's more complicated than that-"

"How do your species become intimate?"

The marshmallow and stick explanation didn't work. You open your mouth just to close it again. It's not like it bothered you talking about sex but it wasn't like you were about to open up Pornhub and show Optimus a video. You just find it difficult to explain. It's not like you could say 'penis goes inside vagina' because Optimus would ask 'What is a penis? What is a vagina?'

Maybe it will be easier to explain it in his terms or in a way he can relate. You decide to ignore his question first in hopes that you can answer it later after he responds to you.

"How do Cybertronians become 'Sparkmates'?"

"Sparkmates are extremely rare. In my years I've only met five. There should be more but the war has lasted many eons and there are few of us now," the more Optimus talks, the more you realize that he isn't the quiet type at all. The right questions always make him talk.

"From what I've heard and read, Sparkmates could recognize one another and immediately Sparkbond as a sign of affection."

"Sparkbond?"

"A sacred ritual only reserved for Sparkmates. It is taboo for Cybertronians who weren't Sparkmates to Sparkbond," he continues to talk. You wonder if he is talking because he enjoys it or because he doesn't want to be rude and tell you to shut up.

"But myths say that it is ... an indescribable experience. Even if I wanted to share this information with you, I am unable to ."

"Interesting," you are relieved to know that you weren't the only one having trouble explaining relationships.

"Humans are not like that. We can become intimate whenever we want. Even if we don't love or have feelings for the person we are intimate with."

"Cybertronians also enjoy other means of intimacy," he says as you finally rest on your camp bed, laying flat, looking at the same night sky as Optimus and a belly full of smores. "Most enjoy it with a recreational means."

This sparks your curiosity.

"So ... What other ways can Cybertronians be intimate?

You don't look at him but wait for an answer that never comes.

"I am not certain if that's a proper subject to speak with a lady."

"Oh, come on!" you decide to share some human information, maybe that would encourage Optimus to speak more. "Humans really ... really enjoy intimacy. It gives us pleasure. We actually need to feel a lot of pleasure in order to conceive life. Is it the same for you guys?"

"We do possess the software and right circuits that allow us to process touch and pleasure."

By the way he doesn't dare to look at you, you can tell he is flustered. You are happy to know that Cybertronians can feel embarrassed. Maybe you two aren't so different after all.

"All Cybertronians have different tension points and if caressed properly then ..."

Optimus stops speaking for a few seconds. You don't know if its the archivist in him, with so much knowledge that it's begging to be shared. Or if it is the reporter in you that wants to know more than you somehow find a way to get the answers you need.

"Then?"

The leader of the Autobots stays silent, debating whether or not to proceed.

"I wish to not speak of this further."

"Please, Prime, continue! You were just getting to the good part!"

"Please respect my wishes."

"Fine, fine," you say, quickly thinking of a better question. "But tell me, have you ever been engaged in this type of recreational intimacy?

You pay attention to his faceplate and although he has no clear expression, you notice his cheeks become slightly blue.

"OH, YOU HAVE!" you didn't need an answer anymore, you knew. "Tell me, how was it?! Was she beautiful?"

"I wish to recharge now."

He doesn't deny it and this further proves your conclusion.

"Tell me, please! I am so curious now about alien sex."

"Sex?" his voice is genuinely curious. "What is that?"

"You know what, I suddenly became sleepy too," you put a small blanket over your body, no longer wanting to explain the whole act of human reproduction anymore.

"Let's call it a night shall we?"

"But I wish for you to tell me more about this sex you speak of."

You close your eyes, ignoring his request.

"Goodnight, Prime."

.

.

.

Big Bend National Park in Texas probably has one of the best views of the Milky Way in the USA.

Ever since arriving on Earth, Optimus hasn't had the time to do any exploring as he would like. Free time is never really on his schedule but he finds himself enjoying this time with you.

You had expressed to him the desire to stay a couple more days. Deep down, he also wished he could relax and drive into the distance. He almost wanted to say yes but you had quickly interrupted him, saying that you had work and couldn't afford to lose any more days.

The two of you had to walk on top of a mountain. Mostly, he walked a couple of steps up while carrying you on his right servo.

Optimus looked around the area and then at the sky. He looked up while you looked down. He knows he should be paying more attention, especially when you insist on being the one to scratch the ground with a shovel. He had offered to do it but according to you, he was too brusque and might break the delicate artifact.

He wasn't so sure of that. But he assumed that you felt more inclined to offer your help because you didn't want to feel useless and he wasn't one to want to diminish your efforts.

"There is an ancient story about how the Milky Way formed."

Optimus was so concentrated on looking at the stars that he didn't notice that you had started shoveling.

"A very long time ago, a heavenly god had a beautiful daughter, a princess. She fell in love with a farmer. The farmer also loved the princess."

You continued to talk while shoveling, your voice was agitated and Optimus felt the need to do the job himself. But the last thing he wants is to make you feel unneeded.

"But the heavenly god did not approve of it so he cut off the sky in half. The farmer stayed on one side and the princess stayed on the other. They could never see each other again."

Still, your voice sounds excited. Is excavating that much fun to you? Or was it the story you were telling? Either way, he couldn't tell. But he enjoyed watching you do both.

"The princess would do nothing but cry. Seeing her sorrow, the heavenly god came to a conclusion."

Then, you had come to a stop. He seems some awkwardness in your face. Confusion and uneasiness. Something that is not very familiar to you. But you were pretending not to be.

"I am sorry, I am talking too much. This must be boring-"

He can't believe that he has been paying more attention to you than the story you were sharing with him. A sense of guilt and shame felt heavy on his spark. Was it the stars? Your strange body that he was so unknown to? Otherwise, Optimus can't understand why he would be so fascinated with the scene unfolding in front of him.

"No," he says, walking closer to you. He kneels to listen more closely. "Please, continue."

Seeing his interest, you continued with the last part of the story.

"He will allow his daughter to meet with the farmer once a year. On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, a flock of magpies forms a bridge, allowing the lovers to reunite for a single day."

He waits for you to continue and then realizes that you have finished your story. With an ending he did not like.

"That god is cruel. Is there anything we can do to help?"

"It's not a real story," you stop shoveling for a second to look at him. Although the night is cold by human standards, you still manage to sweat. A condition that is extremely foreign to him but he finds it fascinating. The fact that you are able to produce a water-like substance out of your skin is astonishing.

"It's fiction. It gives us an explanation of how the Milky Way was created and it's about the message."

"It's a tragic tale with a tragic ending," he says abruptly, showing his clear distaste for the conclusion. "I do not understand the kind of morale this story is trying to convey."

You stand in front of him. His optics allowed him to study you. Your chest moves up and down. You blink constantly. Your hair moves with the wind and your face wrinkles when you talk. There's not a single part of your body that it's not expressive.

Little by little, Optimus understood why the human poets and artists were so enchanted by the beauty of the human body.

"I think it means that to love is to suffer and suffering can be beautiful."

By Primus, he could have sworn he felt a glitch in his spark. A feeling that lasted less than a millisecond but one he will crave for all of eternity.

"It's a part of life. You can't feel happy unless you experience sadness first," you go back to shoveling, the ground around you has become deeper. Optimus wonders how much longer you will last until you give up and finally ask him for help. He needs to help you.

"And besides the star-crossed lovers can still meet."

"Soon?"

You stop again to look at the watch in your hand. Then you go back to work.

"Right now actually."

Instinctively, Optimus looks up at the dark sky to see falling stars and comets. The milkway splits the black mantle of the night.

"I do not see any birds."

He hears a sound. Like a soft and strange melody, delicate but sweet. It's the first time he hears you laugh.

"Did I say something amusing?"

"Don't mind me. I am just indulging," you say, still giggling a little bit. "You know, the more I get to know you, the more I see why you would be popular with the ladies."

"I- Umm-"

He wants to say something, to say more of him. To share things that will make him look more ... capacitated.

"Prime! I think I found it! The relic!"

You use your hands to get rid of the dust of the white pot. Taking a step aside, Optimus is glad to finally help you.Using two of his digits, he pulls the white pot from the ground, easily. It's not big but rather heavy for you. He is surprised that something made for Cybertronians could be this small.

"Mission accomplished," he says. "Let's get back to base."

.

.

.

The last thing you expected to see when you came back to base was to see three kids.

Well, two teenagers and one kid to be specific.

The Autobots had embarrassed looks on their face. Optimus was as unreadable as always. That made the situation even more uncomfortable.

"I departed for three days and returned to find ... small humans," Optimus observes the bots and the three other humans who look a bit scared. "Should I be concerned?"

Arcee steps in, knowing that she is the best to explain the situation.

"We were on a mission to retrieve Energon when we accidentally stumble upon the humans and they got tangled in our affairs with the Decepticons," Arcee says. "Agent Fowler was called and he gave us the order to guard these humans in the meantime."

Optimus stays silent.

"And the energon?"

"We now have enough stored for a couple of months."

He vents heavily and nods slightly.

"Very well then. I approve of Agent Fowler's decision."

Arcee then takes a step back and looks at the kids. She raises a servo, fully open. Not pointing but rather softly signaling.

"Jack, Raf, Miko," Arcee points to each of them for Optimus to learn their names, so do you. "Meet Optimus Prime, Leader of the Autobots."

"Hello."

"Hi."

"Hey."

Optimus kneels in front of the kids, taking a closer look at them. Memorizing their faces and names. Their appearances gave him a little hint of what their personalities would be like. He liked that, he wouldn't struggle too much to read them as compared to you.

"We have as well completed our mission smoothly," Optimus stands up and moves aside, leaving you exposed to the rest as you were kinda hiding behind his pedes. Next to you the relic that was safely stored inside the white pot.

"Old friend," now Optimus re-directs his attention to Ratchet. "Have you made any advances in discovering information about the relics?"

"No, tragically," Ratchet steps aside from his workstation to show the group the data he has collected so far about the first collected relic. "Good news is that Raf helped me fix the ground bridge so now we can collect the other relics across the globe."

"Very well then, the more pieces we have of this puzzle, the more we are closer to the truth-"

"Wait, is that (y/n) from Jasper TV News?"

Raf interrupts Optimus although there wasn't any malice from it. More curious than anything and excited.

You wave, still not liking the attention but you are not going to be mean about it.

"My mom is a fan of yours! She loves watching the news," Raf says as he gets closer to you. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

"I have my own shenanigans," you didn't want to tell the entire story, not wanting to divulge your bad behavior. "Long story short, I was in the wrong place, wrong time. Prime came to save me."

"So is Optimus like your robot guardian?"

"Guardian? Please, it's me the one who takes care of him."

You turn to look up at him, trying to tease him and get his approval.

"She does."

You weren't expecting him to answer but you are happy he played along.

"But I won't be here for a couple of days so maybe you three can take of him for me."

This time you look at the other two teens behind Raf who smile to greet you.

"Where will you be going?"

"Work," you say, your voice showing your clear disappointment. "Someone has to report the news and I haven't been attending to it lately."

You turn to face the Autobots.

"Now if it's not too much to ask ... can I get a ride back home?"

"I can take you home if so you wish," Optimus offers but you didn't want to bother him any longer.

"You've driven so much already, I think it's better if you rest."

Then, you hear beeping sounds. It was Bumblebee who had transformed into his vehicle form, opening the door for you to get in. You walk towards him, a bit excited to ride a nice-looking car.

"If you guys really need me, you can text me," you stand in front of the door, ready to hop in. "But besides that, I'll be drowning in work so please don't look for me."

There was some truth to that but you actually wanted some private time so you could write in your journal everything you learned on this trip. From the relic to Cybertronian reproduction. Everything was worth reporting.

"Goodbye, everyone!"

You raised your right hand, giving everyone a clear view of your palm. Waving your hand side to side. Bulkhead and the kids wave back to you while Arcee gives you an acknowledging look. Ratchet doesn't even bother, too indulged in his work and Optimus doesn't say a word.

You hop into Bumblebee as he closes the door.

Everyone watches as you and Bee head into the tunnel to leave the base.

Bulkhead and Arcee walked around the base and showed it to the kids. While Ratchet kept on with his work and Optimus just stared into the distance.

Although Ratchet was too focused on the screen in front of him, he could sense Optimus' presence still in the same room.

It was quiet and to Ratchet this was a bit strange. He looks at the back and finds Optimus still staring into the tunnel. His optics are heavy on him, that look on his friend's faceplate is not unknown to him but it's been eons ago since he saw it.

Optimus walks past the white pot uncarefully, making it spin, almost fall and break. He didn't seem to notice but Ratchet did.

"Did you see that?"

Ratchet asks pointing at the pot that thankfully did not shatter.

"Yes," Optimus says. "Her hands were damaged. Probably due to the excavation she did with the shovel. I should've had helped."

Optimus didn't see it before but your palms were swollen, pink and with a flew blisters and scratches. For a human with a soft skin like yours it must be painful to have.

"No, Optimus," Ratchet is now concerned. "The relic. Be careful."

Optimus looks at his side where the clay pot is extremely close to his pede. He took a few steps back, showing his clear confusion.

"My apologies, I'll be more careful."

Ratchet continues to look at the Autobot leader, wondering how or why he seems distracted. It's unaccustomed for a Prime to act in such ways but Ratchet couldn't completely be mad at him. He sometimes tends to forget that Optimus used to be more than a Prime and it was moments like this when he could see who Orion Pax used to be.

.

.

.

Every day is harder for you to get out of bed but you remind yourself that you need to go work. Tragically, you are not rich nor have anything to your name just a car you were able to pay off. A reporter's salary isn't great but it's not bad either. Maybe if you worked hard enough you will be able to afford to buy a house. A very small one.

You got out of the house, make-up and outfit ready. You weren't one to wear make-up in the office but today you were going to be live on television, reporting an increase in illegal car racing. Not something you were particularly interested in but you would take that any day over-reporting insignificant lifestyle.

You get into your car, put the tote bag in the co-pilot seat and close the door. You take your bag again, making sure everything is in there. Laptop, make-up bag, cigarettes, lighter, wallet.

Your phone is missing.

You sigh heavily and take off the seat belt, trying to open the door only to realize you can't.

"Don't worry darling, whatever you need, you won't need it where we are heading."

And that's when you realize that this isn't your car.

Once again, you will be missing work.

.

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A/N: Slowburn who? I don't think Reader and Optimus have feelings for each other yet but rather is a fascination for each other species. I think both Reader and Optimus are curious by nature and I think that's why they get along well so far.

If I am completely honest, I am not sure how this story will continue. I just know how I want to end it but it's a matter to get there. Of course, I want to implement some ideas I've had for a while into the story but I want to make it as smoothly as possible without things feeling rushed or making it seem like things happened out of nowhere.

Although I feel like things have strangely improved between Reader and Optimus and it's just the third chapter. So I don't know, I'll see how this story progresses. I've written really long slowburn fanfics before but for some reason I only see this story being around 50k-60k words in total. Which for me, that's a rather short fic.

I definitely want to explore more of Optimus character and mostly importantly, I want him to be able to feel. He may never act upon his feelings but he still feels. Some emotions maybe unknown to him so he may lash or act in certain ways.

I still don't know if I want reader to fall in love first just for Optimus to reject her and through the story we see her moving on and improving as a person (cause reader still has a skewed way look at the world and she is lying to the autobots) and as she moves on and dates other people, Optimus realizes he loves her and he gets angry and annoyed because he starts to have ill feelings like jealousy, rage, confusion, uneasiness and he feels all of that because of you. And of course one day he can't control it anymore and he angrily confesses your love for you under the rain? ( ok I might be making this part up haha)

But anyways, I think y'all get my point.

In the next chapter, I would also like to talk more about the reader and her past. I think she's rather interesting. Not bad but not good either. Her views about life changed and from being someone full of hope she became kinda pessimistic ... maybe Optimus can help her see the good side of life again.

Thank you again to anyone who took the time to read this chapter. I apologize for any mistakes but I don't really proofread since I don't have time. I wrote this while at work actually, haha.

Thank you and see you on the next chapter!

Previous Chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/767425691778203648/the-darkest-hour?source=share

Next:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/770605391385133056/the-darkest-hour?source=share

[defiblover27]

The Next Morning

..................................

The fluorescent lights in the emergency room buzzed softly overhead, casting a harsh glow over the sterile space. Sarah sat with her best friend, Emma, her arm wrapped tightly around her. They had been out drinking the night before, but something was wrong. Emma wasn’t just hungover; her skin was pale, and her body seemed to be shutting down. Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly off.

"I don’t feel right," Emma had whispered earlier, wincing from the pain in her head. "This isn’t a normal hangover."

Sarah’s heart raced as she explained to the triage nurse what had happened, pleading for her to take Emma seriously. "She’s really not feeling well. We were out drinking, but this isn’t normal. She can barely sit up, and she keeps saying her head is splitting."

The nurse, an older woman with a dismissive tone, didn’t even look up from the computer. "Sounds like a typical hangover to me," she muttered. "Fluids and rest will do the trick."

Sarah’s frustration boiled over, but before she could argue further, the nurse finally gestured for them to follow her into a treatment room. "Fine, let’s get her back and have a look. But honestly, it sounds like she overdid it."

Once they reached the room, the nurse handed Emma a pale blue hospital gown. "Change into this," she said as she began preparing an IV. Emma could barely stand, and Sarah had to help her get undressed and into the gown. Her movements were slow, almost robotic, as if her body was betraying her.

The nurse inserted the IV with a quick, "Just a little pinch," then attached sticky leads to Emma’s chest, monitoring her heart rate and oxygen levels. The soft beeping of the machines filled the room, and Sarah’s anxiety only deepened.

Emma groaned, her face twisted in pain. "My head… it feels like it’s going to explode."

The nurse, still indifferent, glanced at the monitors. "Her vitals are fine," she said dismissively. "I’ll start her on some oxygen, just in case." She placed a nasal cannula under Emma’s nose, the soft hiss of oxygen beginning to flow.

"I’ll be back in twenty minutes to check on her," the nurse added before leaving the room.

The minutes dragged on, and Sarah sat by Emma’s side, watching her friend struggle. Emma’s breathing had stabilized slightly, but her face was still pale, and she seemed disoriented, her hand never leaving her throbbing temple.

"Em, you feeling any better?" Sarah asked softly.

Emma’s eyes fluttered open briefly, her voice barely audible. "A little… breathing’s easier, but my head… it’s still pounding."

When the nurse returned, her expression was more serious. She glanced at the monitors, noting a slight decrease in Emma’s vitals. "Her heart rate’s down a bit, but nothing critical," the nurse said, though the worry had finally started to creep into her voice.

Just then, the door opened, and Dr. Warren stepped in, a tall man with graying hair at his temples. He introduced himself with a calm, steady tone, quickly assessing Emma’s condition. After listening to her heart and lungs, he asked a series of questions.

"Emma, can you tell me what happened last night? Anything unusual?"

Emma winced, struggling to focus. "I went to the bathroom at the bar. I felt dizzy, really dizzy, and then… I blacked out. I woke up on the floor."

"Do you think you hit your head?" Dr. Warren asked, his concern deepening.

"I don’t know," Emma whispered. "I didn’t feel anything at the time, but my head’s been killing me ever since."

Dr. Warren nodded, his expression unreadable. "I want to get a CT scan, just to rule out any head trauma. We’ll make sure nothing serious is going on."

The nurse quickly made arrangements, but just as she was about to wheel Emma out for the scan, an alarm rang through the ER. The PA system crackled, "Code Blue, Room 14. Code Blue." Another cardiac arrest.

As the team rushed to respond, Sarah watched in helpless horror as an elderly woman was wheeled past the room, a nurse straddling her on the gurney, performing aggressive chest compressions. The woman’s body jolted with each push, and the sound of the compressions echoed down the hall. Sarah’s heart pounded. The reality of the situation hit her hard—this was life or death.

Dr. Warren apologized as he and the nurse ran off to assist in the resuscitation. "We’ll get the CT done as soon as possible," he said, his face grim as he disappeared with the team.

Fifteen minutes later, the nurse returned. Emma’s vitals had decreased slightly. Sarah, still shaken from seeing the elderly woman, couldn’t help but ask, "What happened to her?"

The nurse sighed, her face softening. "She didn’t make it. By the time we got to her, there wasn’t much we could do. Her heart had stopped for too long."

Sarah’s stomach twisted as she processed the nurse’s words. She glanced at Emma, who was barely hanging on, her breathing shallow and her hand still pressed to her head. "We’re not giving up on your friend, though," the nurse added. "We’ll get her that CT scan soon."

Emma was finally taken to CT, and Sarah was left alone in the room, her mind racing. The minutes dragged on as she anxiously waited for her friend to return. But then, another alarm blared over the PA system, echoing through the halls.

Sarah froze, her blood turning to ice.

Before she could react, a team of doctors and nurses rushed past the door—Emma was on a gurney, being pushed frantically toward the trauma room. Sarah’s heart stopped as she saw the nurse straddling Emma, performing CPR.

"Emma!" Sarah screamed, bolting out of the room to follow them. Emma’s limp body jolted with each compression, her face pale and lifeless. The nurse pressed down hard on Emma’s chest, her entire body moving with each rapid thrust.

Sarah chased after them, her feet pounding the floor, but the team was too focused, too intent on saving Emma’s life to notice her. They reached the trauma room, the doors swinging open with a sense of finality as Emma was rushed inside.

Sarah stumbled to a stop just outside the trauma room, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Doctors and nurses crowded around Emma’s bed, shouting orders as the nurse continued the relentless chest compressions. The defibrillator was charged, the paddles pressed to Emma’s chest.

"Clear!" the doctor shouted.

Emma’s body convulsed violently as the electrical shock surged through her. Sarah flinched, tears spilling down her face as she watched, helpless and terrified.

The nurse resumed CPR immediately, her hands pressing down hard on Emma’s chest, forcing her heart to pump. "Come on, Emma," Sarah whispered, her voice breaking. "Please… please don’t leave me."

"Push another round of epi," the doctor ordered, and a nurse quickly injected the medication into Emma’s IV.

The room was filled with urgency, but to Sarah, everything seemed to slow down. She watched in horror as the nurse continued chest compressions, her best friend’s body rocking under the pressure.

"Charging to 300," the nurse called out again, preparing for another shock.

"Clear!"

Emma’s body jerked once more, and Sarah’s heart broke as she watched, praying for any sign of life.

For a moment, the room held its breath. The monitor stayed flat, the steady, haunting tone of the flatline filling the air.

Sarah sank to her knees outside the trauma room, her body shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "Please, Emma… don’t leave me."

The trauma room was tense, the air thick with the weight of time slipping away. The clock on the wall showed that over 20 minutes had passed since Emma had gone into cardiac arrest. Sarah stood at the foot of the bed, her legs weak and trembling, watching helplessly as the team continued their relentless efforts. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound of the flatline and the desperate compressions blurring into a nightmare she couldn't escape.

Emma’s body continued to shake violently under the nurse’s compressions. With every push, her chest caved in, her ribs flexing unnaturally. Sarah’s eyes were drawn to Emma’s bare chest, her breasts swaying with each compression, then jolting upwards as the defibrillator shocked her lifeless body. It was like watching a machine, Emma’s body responding to the mechanical force of resuscitation but with no spark of life behind it.

"Push another round of epi," the doctor ordered, his voice now carrying a harder edge, determination cutting through the exhaustion. He leaned over Emma, checking the monitors, then motioned for the nurse to prepare another shock.

"Charging to 360," the nurse called out.

"Clear!"

Emma’s body arched off the bed as the shock hit, her chest lifting sharply, her head lolling to the side as the electricity surged through her. Her feet jumped, and Sarah winced, her stomach twisting at the sight. But when Emma collapsed back onto the bed, the flatline persisted, the monotone beep droning on.

A charge nurse, her face lined with exhaustion and experience, stepped forward, glancing at the clock. "We’re beyond 20 minutes now," she said softly, though her voice held a note of finality. "We’ve done everything we can."

Sarah felt her heart drop, her eyes widening in shock. "No…" she whispered under her breath, her hands shaking. This couldn’t be it. Not now.

But before anyone could say more, the doctor raised his hand sharply. His eyes were fierce, his jaw set in defiance. "No. We’re not stopping." He looked down at Emma’s body, frustration tightening his features. "We should have caught this earlier. If we had… she wouldn’t be here right now. We’re going to keep going."

The charge nurse hesitated, glancing between the doctor and Emma, then gave a small nod, stepping back.

The nurse resumed compressions, driving her palms into Emma’s chest with renewed intensity. Sarah watched as Emma’s body shook with each push, her breasts trembling with the force, her ribs straining under the relentless pressure. The team worked in silence, the grim reality of the situation hanging over them like a cloud, but no one was willing to give up just yet.

"Come on, Emma," the doctor muttered under his breath as he prepared the defibrillator again. "We’re not losing you."

Another shock was delivered. Emma’s body jolted, her torso lifting off the bed once more, only to fall back down in a lifeless heap. The flatline continued its haunting wail, and the nurse immediately resumed compressions, her hands pressing deep into Emma’s chest, causing her body to rock with each life-saving attempt.

Sarah’s breath hitched as she clutched the edge of the bed, her knuckles white. Every part of her wanted to scream, to demand that Emma wake up, but all she could do was watch as the team fought to bring her back.

At the thirty-minute mark, the room was filled with the sounds of relentless CPR, the rhythmic thuds of compressions, and the beeping monitors. The desperation in the air was palpable as Sarah stood, frozen at the foot of the bed, watching Emma’s lifeless body move mechanically under the force of each compression. Her best friend—so full of life just hours ago—was now a pale, still figure on the trauma bed, her body convulsing only with the shocks and the desperate attempts to keep her heart beating.

"Let’s get a cardiac ultrasound," the doctor ordered, his voice sharp with urgency but laced with a grim undertone. He was still refusing to give up, but even Sarah could see the fatigue in his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly as he signaled for the nurse to bring the equipment. He had been pushing hard, refusing to stop, but there was a tension in the room now—an understanding that they were running out of time.

As the ultrasound machine was wheeled in, the compressions were momentarily paused. The nurse removed her hands from Emma’s chest, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, her body lay completely still. Her chest no longer rose and fell, her limbs were limp, and her face was slack. Sarah’s gaze drifted to Emma’s half-open eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling. They were lifeless, glassy, fixed in place, and dilated.

The doctor quickly applied the ultrasound probe to Emma’s chest, the cold gel smearing across her skin. The room fell into a tense silence, every eye watching the screen, hoping for a miracle—hoping to see something, anything, that would give them a reason to continue.

But the screen remained empty. There was no flicker of movement, no hint of cardiac activity. The dark, unmoving silhouette of Emma’s heart filled the screen, completely still, devoid of the pulsing that everyone had been praying for.

"She’s in asystole," the doctor said quietly, his voice flat, his eyes glued to the monitor as if willing it to change. He moved the probe around, checking again, hoping for some sign of life, but there was nothing.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat, her knees buckling slightly as she held onto the bed rail for support. She had heard the word before—asystole, the absence of any electrical or mechanical activity in the heart. The flatline on the monitor had already told her, but seeing it confirmed with the ultrasound felt like a punch to the gut. Her friend was gone.

The charge nurse stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the doctor’s shoulder. "Her pupils are fixed and dilated," she said softly, almost in a whisper. "There’s no response."

Sarah’s eyes filled with tears, her vision blurring as she watched Emma’s empty gaze stare upwards, unseeing. The pupils were wide, unmoving, a sure sign that her brain had stopped responding long ago.

The room went silent. The compressions ceased, the frantic energy dissipated, and all that remained was the cold, unrelenting truth. Emma was beyond saving.

The doctor stood up straight, removing the ultrasound probe and wiping his hands on his scrubs. He let out a long, slow breath, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "We’re calling it," he said quietly, turning to the team. "Time of death…"

But Sarah barely heard the rest. All she could focus on was Emma, lying so still, her body motionless after what felt like an eternity of fighting. The tears fell freely now, and Sarah collapsed against the bed, her hands clutching the sheet as she whispered, "Emma… no, please…"

The room began to empty, the trauma team stepping away one by one, their heads low, their faces grim. But Sarah remained, frozen in place, her world shattering around her as she realized the person she loved most in the world was gone.

[potatomountain]

CIY- 8

Chapter Eight

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍word count: 3.3k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: mentions of mxm relationships.

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer, @yessa-vie and @daesukiii

masterlist | Previous | Next

Before you knew it, a week had flown by and a routine was formed. Mornings were spent going to your deli and getting your coffee, where you started picking up San's as well. You weren't sure if you should grab it today since he informed you on Thursday that he had to go undercover for the weekend. 

You hadn't seen Yunho or Mingi until Friday, which you expected when you heard Mingi the night before loud and clear. Of course, you bitched at him when you saw him, surprised by how easy the banter that followed and the insults. The same thing happened Saturday and even last night you had heard him. It was getting annoying, even if you had ways to block out most of the sound, you didn't like how it made you feel.

San didn't make it any easier, casually flirting with you, laying on the charm and compliments whenever he could just to leave you flustered but he was respectful about his timing. All week until he had left, leaving you frustrated in a whole new way with his absence. The fact you missed him during the weekend left a bad taste in your mouth, you didn't want to get attached. This position was temporary at best, the unlikelihood of it being permanent better than at first but still slim.

Two weeks didn't make you part of the team after all. Even if you had a growing routine and the reception was less icy, you knew that.

Getting your hopes up was a bad idea, yet here you were, standing in line at the deli for the coffee and breakfast you got almost every morning. You debated on getting San's coffee, since he said he should be there today. Would he be beaten up like last time? The bruises and cuts had barely healed before he went off and you had to admit you were a little worried.

That might be because of your old unit. Hyunjin would complain if he had a cut on his pretty face and Jisung couldn't handle a cold. Neither could Binnie, with both Felix and Minho mothering whenever anyone was injured or feeling sick. Then there was Chan- 

Sighing, you shook your head, not ready to go down that road just yet. Today was the last day of your probation and you still weren't ready to talk to him or half of them- Hyunjin had been the exception because, well, he was Hyunjin. And he didn't give you the option to be ready, he insisted on being a part of your life as if nothing had happened: which you truthfully appreciated.

“Why’s such a pretty thing like you sighing? The week just started.” A voice behind you garnered your attention, so you turned to look. A pretty attractive man widened his smile, which surprised you wasn’t sleazy in the least; despite his outfit screaming a typical sleazy man. The animal print button-up, sunglasses pushing his dual-toned hair back, and the hint of a tongue stud as he licked his lips- normally it would have you sneering but on him it looked damned good. Maybe it was the eyeliner?

Either way, he was hot, and he called you pretty. “Mm no particular reason, maybe I’m just not feeling up to work today?” You offered a smile, deciding to take it a step further. “Definitely don’t want to now, not when my day just got more interesting.” 

You were glad that his charming smile turned more flirty, even more so when he stepped up next to you. “I’d have to agree, not really in a hurry for my coffee now. You are much more refreshing, pretty girl.”

“Already onto pet names? Before I get your name?” You couldn’t help but tease.

He chuckled, holding out his hand. “Friends call me Mito. Nice to meet you-” Once you gave your name, he hummed thoughtfully. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Gotta say I think I’d remember seeing such a beauty around here. New job brings you this way?”

You didn’t regret your words when he was looking at you like that, as if you were the best damned meal he ever saw and he couldn’t wait to get a taste. Hell, you were ready to let him have it. Maybe it was because he was the first in a while that had flirted with you? That was a lie, there were plenty. You just had your eyes set on someone else before… now just about anyone was up for grabs.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I recently moved to the area too. Do you come here often? To this cafe?”

“A friend of mine told me to check it out, I usually go to another one about a block away.” He hummed out, stepping with you as the line moved. “But if you’re here, that’s plenty of reason to make this a regular stop.”

“Or you could just ask for my number?” The words were out before you could even stop yourself, fighting off the heat that flooded your cheeks. Were you that touch-starved that you would be so bold with a man you just met? Who didn’t even give you his real name, just a nickname?

Did that make you easy? Should you be ashamed? Maybe, but it really had been so damned long and it wasn’t like you were going to pull your clothes off for him right now.

“Then how about your number first? And I buy your coffee?” He finally offered once he pulled his eyes back to yours.

No harm in at least seeing where this goes right? “I’ll put my number in for you.” Holding out your hand, you couldn’t help but be a little giddy when he handed you his phone, contacts already open. Few seconds later and you sent yourself a text from his, handing it back just in time for the both of you to step up to the counter to order.

He rattled off four different drinks, while you rattled off two- one of them the same as one of his. You thought it was interesting, San having a common order. “Drinks for friends?”

“Co-workers. What about your extra?” Mito countered, a cheeky grin on his lips as the two of you stepped aside to wait.

“Co-worker.” One that definitely got to you in a way a co-worker shouldn’t… you could blame your sudden boldness on him. Yeah, this was all their fault. San with all his flirting and teasing and Mingi with his constant annoyance and sex sounds the past few nights.

You tried not to show how heated that train of thought made you, nor did you want to admit it any further than that.

“Mm well they’re lucky to get a coffee on me.” He winked, not at all bothered to have bought it.

“I’ll let him know the hottie at the coffee shop hopes he enjoys his coffee.” Laughing, you relaxed against the counter next to him, the two of you sharing a flirty glance. “I also appreciate it, it definitely makes my day better.”

He shrugged. “My absolute pleasure dear, I can always make your day better in other ways too. Help you relax at the end of a long day of work.”

Now that sounded really tempting. Before you could further flirt, your drinks were announced. “Well, that’s our cue, I really needed to get to work anyways.” You didn’t think they would care, but if San was there you did want to get him his coffee and check up on him. “Call me?” 

You wanted to tell someone about the hottie at the cafe… was it too soon to text Hyunjin about it? Would San listen? You grimaced at that idea. Sure, tell one man you wanted to bone about a complete stranger that was much more likely to get into your pants and fast.

“Oh definitely. Good luck, beautiful.” He sent a wink in your direction before he turned to start grabbing a few of the good sugars and things. You didn’t stick around to see what he did with them.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the street that you realized you had forgotten your usual breakfast; instead of turning around to go grab it, maybe giving you a chance to see him again, you shrugged it off. Just meant a bigger lunch or you could always order something.

Such an amazing idea for sure.

Sighing as you headed into the office, you could hear the voices in the back, but you weren’t in a rush to see them just yet. You took your time setting your bag down and your laptop before grabbing San’s coffee to see if he was back.

You might have gotten a little too excited to hear his laugh when you approached the office door, only for it to drain away when you did see him. “Fuck that looks bad.”

“I’m so touched, sweetcheeks.” He had fully taken the pet name from Hyunjin and made it his own- considering how it still managed to fluster you a bit even if you were rolling your eyes at him.

San glanced up when you hissed out, brightening up despite his black eye and arm in a sling. “I’ve missed that beautiful face.” With a dimpled grin he slid off the desk to make his way over to you, stopping only because of the glare you gave him. “What? It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Rolling your eyes you approached. “Sure it isn’t, that sling is just for show. Sit your ass down, I brought you coffee.”

“Aw, but you didn’t know I was going to be here today-”

“Can you two not with the damned couple bullshit?” Jongho sneered from his desk, currently cleaning his weapon. “If it’s not you two flirting up a fucking storm, she’s at Mingi’s throat and I can’t ever tell if they are gunna fuck or fight… or both.”

Yunho laughed from his spot, nudging his friend next to him. “Well that would be great to see regardless. Think you would come out on top?”

Mingi scoffed. “Of course I would, that tiny thing couldn’t handle me. All bark, no bite, like a damned chihuahua.”

“Chihuahua’s bite.” Yunho pointed out with a grin. “And I think this little pet would claw and do some damage. Might be hot as hell though.”

Jongho gagged, pointing his empty mag at the two. “Truth be told my money is on the chihuahua, we forget Mingi is scared of dogs that bite.”

You ignored their banter for the most part, considering it was becoming a daily thing for you, and instead made San sit at his desk while he was watching you with an expression that was almost sweet. “I was hoping you would be, sue me if that makes me soft but at the moment, you are the only thing keeping me from putting a bullet in half the idiot's heads here.” You matched his grin, taking his coffee over to the little coffee station to look for the sugars he liked.

There was a loud bang from a door down the hall, what you recognized as the back entrance, but you ignored it until an unfamiliar- or perhaps somewhat familiar- voice rang in through the office.

Only to freeze.

“I’m back, bitches!!” In a high-pitched singsong tone, a new person stepped into the office. Curious, and suspecting this to be the final detective of the unit you hadn’t met, you glanced over your shoulder.

The gaudy shirt gave him away immediately, the man from the cafe setting the coffee’s on the unused desk as he began talking a mile a minute. “Sannie my man, looking better from the fight already. Got us quite a bit of rep this time around and what better way to celebrate than with a great fucking pussy? Seriously met the hottest fucking broad getting coffee, had no idea such a beauty would be around here but like fuck- got her number.” He giggled like a schoolgirl, bringing a coffee over to San.

San grinned up at him. “You do seem to work fast but I’ll pass on the coffee. Got one already.” He motioned over towards you, Mito turning to finally notice your presence.

Seriously, what was with you and wanting to fuck your coworkers?

“How’d you get one- OH!” It was with great amusement, and perhaps dismay, that he dropped the hot beverage when he realized you were right there in the room. San was quick, catching it mid-air and cursing as he set it aside. “Holy fuck what is my luck today? This is that new job huh?”

Now you weren’t so sure you would take him up on his offer of after-work pleasure; not that you didn’t find him attractive just that you were attempting to draw a line. The whole reason you really hadn’t taken it past flirting with San; he was a co-worker.

“Hi there again, Mito. I take it you would be the famed Jung Wooyoung?” With a light laugh, you waved, attempting civility.

“You two know each other?” Mingi grumbled, leaning in as if this was juicy gossip. He wasn’t the only one, even Jongho had stopped cleaning the barrel of his gun to glance at the still-shocked detective.

Wooyoung recovered quickly, cheeky grin back. “The hottie whose number I got- was hers. Mmm, I get to see you in the office too? Damn- wait, how the fuck had no one told me we have a drop dead gorgeous Goddess as part of our unit now?” He swiveled on the others.

“Didn’t think it was relevant.” San bristled, glancing over at you and the coffee you brought. “Plus you were undercover.”

“Undercover?” Wooyoung asked in obvious confusion. “She doesn’t know how we do things does she?”

Something about the way he said it piqued your interest. You already questioned some things they did here, writing it off as part of the job and necessary: Like Mingi’s constant fucking, how bad the fights were with San, and how deep of an undercover this new detective had to be to have the same influence as Hwon- a known freelancer in the underbelly of the city. That seemed like a pretty solid reputation that would require some years, and better product than just one fighter to get.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “They set the bar pretty low, I'm sure you’ll be fine. Already making a better impression than most of them in the full two weeks I’ve been here.” You shrugged off his advances, turning to finish making San’s coffee which you just now realized you knew by heart… after barely a week.

So why did he act as if being undercover was news to him?

Before you could question him, Captain came in with Seonghwa right behind him. “She’s still in a trial run Wooyo, calm yourself. We were also waiting until you got back to see about field work…” The look he shared with his vice didn’t go unnoticed, not when you were on edge, observing every little tick between the seven of them.

“Oh so she gets to work with me now? Fucking sweet.” Cheering a little, he turned back to you with a wide grin. “So beautiful, I know I can’t compare to some of these fine gentlemen but I promise to treat you good- in the field and out of it.” With a wink he made his way over to you, more flirtatious than he had been back at the cafe. Which would have been nice if you weren’t actively fighting off attraction now.

Fuck.

Wooyoung whistled next to you. “Man were they that disappointing in bed? Wow their game must have dropped considerably. I can make it better for ya.”

Mingi and Yunho both looked up at his comment, stopping the little conversation they were having, just as you glanced up at him. “If you’re implying I slept with any of them, no. Aside from mostly San, they were more ready to kick my ass to the curb.”

You took a second to glance around the room, noticing that Yeosang had joined in and was grabbing a coffee from the few that Wooyoung brought. Seonghwa looked much more stressed than normal and even Hongjoong seemed a little ticked off, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Jongho had gone back to cleaning his gun but there was an ever present smirk on his face while Yunho seemed to be enjoying the chaos unfolding. Mingi’s reaction struck you as the oddest, as he almost appeared as panicked as San did.

“WHAT?!” The holy shriek he let out had you flinching, but he was already turning to the others. “You are telling me that you have been gazing on this fine fucking beauty for two whole fucking weeks and none of you have even gotten a taste? Shameful. All of you are absolutely shameful.” He tsked dramatically, taking in the view as you brought San his coffee. “Not even you Sannie?”

“Not all of us think with our dicks-”

“Mingi does- Fuck not even Mingi fucking Malik had a taste? Ya’ll trippin. Where does she even sit? Was she at my desk? Please say yes-”

“Receptionist.” Seonghwa finally stepped into the conversation, fixing Wooyoung with a glare while Hongjoong was giggling under his breath behind him. “Wooyoung, can you please quiet it? It’s Monday-”

He was broken off by Wooyoung’s flabbergasted gasp. “Up front alone? Damn they really gave you the cold shoulder. It’s okay, beautiful, Wooyoung is here now. Need a nice warm seat, my face is available- or dick. Wouldn’t mind being a step stool either.”

It seemed he would have ranted more if San hadn’t ignored the coffee in your hand to reach out and grab the man’s jaw instead, squeezing it still. “Wooyoung- stop. Fucking stop. Do you think it’s nice to be talking about how you want to fuck our new addition to the unit in front of her?”

“No-” Wooyoung got out through the grip, glancing over at you as you watched with a lifted brow. “I really don’t get why you haven’t- yall fuck around a lot. And she’s beautiful.”

His constant praise was a bit touching, and a few things he said had been very tempting, but you were determined to keep it professional. “I don’t want to sleep with my unit members anyways.”

“Why not?”

“Complicates the job.” You admitted, finding yourself much more calmer despite the turn this morning had taken. Back to square one really.

Wooyoung scoffed, pulling out of San’s grip to look you right in the eye. “Can’t imagine how- or are you unaware that half the time we are on each other’s dicks? I mean Captain’s office is locked half the time because his pants are down and he’s having a grand ol’ time with-” His mouth was quickly covered by San who appeared panicked.

What the fuck were you missing?

“So what, you all fuck each other? In the office too?” You looked around for clarification but the only one who would look at you was Yunho and he just smirked wider.

San seemed even more panicked, glaring at Wooyoung only to be pushed back down on the desk. With his arm in the bind, he fell back. “See for yourself, beautiful.”

Out of all the things that you could expect, watching the new detective lock lips with San was definitely not on the list. Your mouth dropped open, eyes going wide as you tried to comprehend just what you were seeing.

You didn’t have time to process at all, Hongjoong calling out your name before he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your office. The only thought in your head was why were you getting pulled into the office?

Seriously… what the fuck.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse | @philijack | @lelaleleb | @idfkeddieishot | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630 | @hongjoongswifefr | @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @bts-army380 | @iwishiwasrichasfuck | @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[its-all-stardust]

Sugar || 5

Masterlist || Part Four || Part Six

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Notes: I'll admit, this chapter isn't my favorite but it works lol. it's mainly here to establish certain things to make it easier for me in the future, so sorry if it's not as good as the others!

You call Steven immediately, but he doesn’t answer. Hanging up without leaving a message, you text him.

Is everything okay? You quickly type. You don’t want to immediately ask why he left. Maybe he was uncomfortable staying the night but didn’t want to say anything.

But then, why did he ask to kiss you again before you left him for the night?

As frustrating as it is for Steven to pull such a vanishing act, it hurts worse. You’re so attached to him already, and the thought that you might have done something to upset him or that he might not want to be around you is crushing.

There’s no immediate response to your text, and you try not to let this minor hiccup affect you. Surely something must have happened for Steven—sweet Steven, who apologizes for not responding to a message within a few minutes—not to have gotten back to you yet.

You’re left standing in the middle of your apartment, lost.

With a shake of your head, you try to put the worst from your mind. For all you know, he could have gotten called into work early and forgot to let you know on his rush out the door. You open your banking app and pay Steven for the night, making sure to deduct whatever you were planning to pay for the pleasure of waking up to him in your home. You also make a mental note to give Steven a firm talking to when you next see each other.

You didn’t hear from Steven for the rest of the weekend.

You’re reminded of one of your babies from a few years ago—the one who ghosted you after one date—and like a parasite, the idea that Steven might have done the same thing latches onto you and refuses to let go.

Monday morning, you’re determined not to let a mere sugar baby distract you—even though you don’t think of Steven as a “mere” anything—and steel yourself for what could be the inevitable end to a short-lived relationship. Steven taking two weeks to talk to you before agreeing to be your baby was one thing. It was another to agree to follow your rules, only to disregard them entirely. If Steven can’t commit to you the way you want him to, or if he decides that this isn’t for him, then you aren’t going to keep him.

It could even be a good thing, you try to convince yourself.

Maybe this could all be a lesson you need to learn about picking babies off the street.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thought. You’re catastrophizing again. You’re making this personal, a reflection of yourself and your abilities. At the end of the day, Steven is an employee you hired because you thought he could do the job. After seeing some trouble from him, you’re merely reconsidering his position with you.

You ignore how much your stomach roils at the thought of letting him go.

At lunch, your phone vibrates in your purse—where you had tossed it earlier when you couldn’t stop staring at it from its usual place on your desk.

The sound makes you pause, questioning if someone is really calling you.

It might not be Steven, you tell yourself as you slowly, calmly reach into your bag and pull out your phone.

But it is him, and the weight in your stomach eases a little.

You stare at the phone, at Steven’s name on the screen, until it goes dark and stops vibrating. Then, a moment later, a notification pops up, announcing a voicemail.

Still, you wait. It’s only fair, after all.

Immediately, your phone starts buzzing again, Steven’s name displaying again. This time, you answer.

“Steven,” you say, your voice low. Although you’re glad he called and persisted with the voicemail and a second call, you’re still upset with him. He better have a good reason for disappearing.

“I am so sorry,” Steven says after a moment, perhaps registering your tone and knowing how upset you are. “I think…I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Despite your confusion, you keep your tone even, neither believing nor disbelieving him until you have more information.

Steven hesitates. “You’ll think I’m mad,” he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.

That’s what hits you: your baby is going through something he’s afraid you’ll reject him for, that you won’t be there for him. And right now, regardless of how you feel, he needs you.

“Steven,” you say, softening your voice and letting a hint of worry peak through. “What’s wrong? Explain it to me.”

“I don’t remember this weekend,” Steven quietly admits, deepening your worry. “I mean, I remember staying at yours, but then suddenly I’m home, standing in the bathroom, and it’s Monday. And I know you’re mad at me, I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on.” Steven finishes, sounding on the verge of tears if a few haven’t slipped out already.

“Baby, hush,” you soothe. “I’m not mad at you.” Not anymore, though you are…concerned.

“You’re not?” Steven asks, hopeful.

“No, I’m not. But what happened? Are you not feeling well? Did you hit your head?”

You want to ask if he took anything, but hold off. It doesn’t feel like the right time, and it could potentially make him defensive and resistant to help if you do.

“Nothing like that. Mainly tired, like I haven’t slept in days, but nothing else.”

Strange, to say the least.

“Have you gone to the doctor?”

“N-no, I haven’t. I wasn’t sure…Since nothing’s wrong—”

“Steven, you blacked out for an entire day. That’s not normal,” you insist. Steven goes quiet. “Go. For me. I need to know you’re okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

“You’ll go today,” you order.

“Yes. Today.”

You think for a moment, biting your lip. “You’ll come to my place later. Meet me there when I get off work.”

You don’t know if inviting him back to your place is a good idea. There could genuinely be something wrong with Steven, something happening to him. But there’s also a chance he’s keeping something, some bad habit or another, from you.

You briefly rethink your decision to forgo a background check on him, but even still, you don’t make plans to follow through with it.

Despite the warning signs, you still want to see him, need to see him. You need to know he’s okay and be there for him. It takes everything in you not to go and be with him now, your anger forgotten and your worry about what he may have gotten himself into ignored.

He’s yours, and you want to take care of him. It’s almost as if, in the short time you’ve known him, he’s done something to you.

“I’ll be there,” Steven says, sounding more sure than anything else he’s said so far. “I…I need to see you.”

You try to ignore the warmth that floods through you.

Steven looks lost as he stands outside your door. He hesitates when he sees you, unsure whether to go to you or wait for you to reach him and unlock the door.

He looks tired, like he indeed hasn’t slept since he was here on Saturday, and his clothes are disheveled, more so than usual. You’ve yet to hear what happened to him over the weekend, what caused his blackout, but you already have a half-formed plan to keep him here tonight and put him to bed as soon as possible.

When you get close, you say his name softly and hold out your arms.

Steven looks relieved as he steps into you, his arms tucking under yours as he buries his face in your neck. He melts into you, and the two of you stand outside your door, each drawing some comfort from the other.

One of your hands goes to his head, threading your fingers through his curl and holding him tight. You kiss the side of his head and wait, letting him hold onto you for as long as he needs.

He clings to you so desperately it makes you wonder if he has anyone else.

Why is it that you, his sugar mommy, are the first person he came to? Regardless of your feelings toward him, surely he has family or friends he could turn to in a moment like this.

You don’t recall him mentioning anyone, except his mother, off-handedly. From how he made it sound, you don’t think she’s even in London.

Maybe you’re all he has.

The thought makes you cling to him as much as he is to you. With Steven in your arms, it’s easy to decide that no matter what’s wrong, you’ll help him. Maybe it’s something where it wouldn’t be right for him to keep being your sugar baby, but you won’t abandon him.

When Steven shows no sign of letting you go, you whisper, “Let’s go inside.”

He reluctantly pulls away and nods, though his hand quickly finds yours.

Once you’re through the door, you kick off your shoes and lead Steven to the couch. You’re a little surprised he doesn’t immediately curl up to your side, but he seems to realize the two of you still need to talk. And whatever he has to say must be serious.

“Did you go to the doctor like I said?” you ask when Steven doesn’t speak.

Instead, he deflates, falling back against the couch, tossing his head back, and staring up at the vaulted ceiling.

“She’s as stumped as I am, I think. Couldn’t find anything without running tests and…” he trails off, sounding defeated.

“And?” you prompt, squeezing his hand. He still hasn’t let go.

“She said it could just be sleepwalking or something like that. But for a whole day?” Steven lifts his head up, staring at you in confusion. “How can I have been asleep for a whole day? Not to mention getting from your flat to mine. Ugh, and then Donna.” Steven falls back and rubs his free hand down his face.

You had forgotten he was scheduled to work today. “You went in?”

“I was supposed to. Supposed to be there at nine, but came to staring at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone ringing in the other room.”

“I take it Donna didn’t handle your absence well.”

“Oh, perfectly well, actually, if you don’t count the, you know, yelling and threatening to fire me. Had to tell her it was an emergency and promise that it won’t happen again to get her to stop. I don’t think she even believed me.”

You can practically see the weight of it all resting on Steven’s shoulders. Waking up after a blackout, knowing something is wrong, and then having your manager chewing you out immediately after? It would be horrible.

“Oh, Steven,” you soothe, pulling him to you so you can hug him again. “What about those tests the doctor mentioned? Are you going to take them? I could pull some strings and get you in to see a specialist sooner.”

“You don’t have to,” Steven insists as he wraps his arms around your waist. “There’s a chance it’s nothing… Just wait and see and hope it doesn’t happen again.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from arguing. You’ve never had to worry about a baby’s health before, and you’re not sure if insisting that he seek treatment goes beyond the bounds you set for the relationship or if Steven would even appreciate you inserting yourself into that part of his life. You don’t want to tell him what to do regarding certain aspects of his personal life, but you still worry.

“Did you tell your family about what happened?” you ask instead. If you can’t tell him what to do about his health, maybe they can.

“It’s just my mum,” Steven says quietly, as if unsure what he wants to tell you. “I left her a message. She’s always traveling, so it’s hard to catch her. She’ll listen to it when she can, though. She always does.”

Something about his tone is slightly off, making you wonder who he’s trying to convince.

“Can we just…go back to normal?” Steven asks, sounding exhausted. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Normal, huh?” you concede, running your fingers through his hair. You’ll play everything by ear for now, and Steven seems well enough that you’re willing to drop the topic for tonight.

“Please?” he mumbles into your neck.

“Well, it just so happens that I got something in the mail for you today.”

Steven lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

You start pulling away, preparing to stand. “I’m going to need you to sound more enthusiastic than that, baby,” you say, kissing Steven’s cheek.

“Right, sorry,” he says, his face flushing like he’s already forgotten your roles. “I love it already. Thank you.”

You can’t help but laugh as you walk over to the front door where you left your bag. Grabbing the card you had safely tucked away earlier when it arrived at the office, you walk back to the living room and stand directly in front of Steven.

You flash the card at him, showing off his name and making Steven’s eyes widen in surprise.

“There’s no limit; you can use it to buy anything and everything. It’s already activated, and I have notifications set up on my phone, so I’ll know when you use it.” Your eyes narrow as you watch Steven visibly swallow, nervous. “And when you don’t.”

“I-I…” Steven stammers but doesn’t quite finish whatever he’s trying to get out.

You watch him closely, looking for any sign that he isn’t interested in this kind of play, the slightest hint that he’s uncomfortable.

Something dark shifts across his features then, twisting his expression toward a scowl. But then it’s gone in an instant, Steven’s expression returning to what it was, his soft brown eyes so trusting. You have no idea what to make of it.

Though it leaves you confused, you decide to continue but are mindful of any other signs that you’ll need to stop what you’re doing. What you have in mind isn’t intense, but some of your babies found it degrading and didn’t like doing it.

“Tell me why I should give you this card,” you say.

Steven shakes his head automatically. “I don’t deserve it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No? But aren’t you doing this for the money? And all the other things I can give you?”

He looks away briefly before meeting your eyes again. Even though he’s hesitating, nothing about him says he doesn’t want to be doing this.

“Yes? But you already—”

“Steven.” His mouth snaps shut at your tone. “Repeat after me: I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

He flushes again and mumbles, “I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

“Louder.”

Steven repeats himself, only slightly louder than the first time.

“Again,” you order, still not satisfied.

When Steven repeats the words this time, he does so at a normal speaking volume—not too loud, but perfect for you.

“Good boy,” you praise, reaching out to hold his face with your free hand. You can tell this was hard for Steven, and you hope, one day, asking for the things he wants will be easier for him.

Steven closes his eyes with a contented sigh and nuzzles your palm. You can’t help but smile adoringly at him.

“Do you know why you deserve it?” you ask, keeping your voice low, soft.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head slightly, careful not to knock your hand away. “Because you’re my baby, and you’re special. Say it.”

Steven lets out a shaky breath against your palm. “Because I’m yours, and I’m special.” He doesn’t mumble or stumble over the words. His voice is clear and even, making you let out a pleased hum. You’re a little proud of him.

“Since you want it so much, beg for the card,” you say, watching him carefully.

Steven seems a little taken aback, and you drop your hand from his face.

“You can always say no,” you remind him. “This doesn’t have to be something we do. No hard feelings.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you take a step back and go to hand him the card. He’s done so well already, and you won’t push him into something he doesn’t want to do. Just because he’s your sugar baby doesn’t mean he’s a toy to toss around as you please.

But then Steven’s hands are on your hips, holding you in place.

“Please,” he whispers, staring up at you beseechingly from his place on the couch. Your heart starts to pound, elated.

“Please, what? What do you want?” You need him to say the words; you need to know that he wants to do this, too.

“Please give me the card,” he says, his voice still so quiet.

“You don’t sound like you want it bad enough.”

Steven shifts on the couch, moving close to the edge. His hands on your hips tighten ever so slightly. He licks his lips and says, “Please, can I have it? I promise I’ll use it. I’ll-I’ll buy so much stuff. Please?” He sounds happy to play along but isn’t sure quite what to say. You’re pleased, though, that he’s trying.

“Please what?” you prompt, hoping he’ll get the message, that he’ll like that part of the relationship too.

Steven stares at you for a moment. Then, “Please, mummy,” said in a breathless whisper.

Smiling brightly at him, you lean down and kiss him. Steven eagerly returns it, gripping your hips tighter and trying to pull you closer even though his head is already tilted back at a slightly awkward angle.

“You did so well, baby,” you say when you pull away. During the kiss, your hand somehow found its way into Steven’s hair, gripping it just enough to move his head how you wanted. You slide your hand back down to his cheek, brushing your thumb against the flush you find there. His pupils are blown wide, and his mouth is slightly open as he lets out shallow pants.

Standing up straight, you hold the credit card out for Steven. “Buy whatever you want, and you’re not getting off this couch until you do.”

“Right now?” Steven asks, sounding a little dazed. He reluctantly releases your hips to take the card, allowing you to sit beside him.

“Yes, right now. Pull out your phone.” You settle in against his side, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, around his shoulders when he settles back, so you can hover over him. “Do you want one of those giant TVs? A gaming system or a computer? What about getting the fixings for a saltwater tank and getting Gus an exotic friend?”

“I… don’t know,” Steven says, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He still seems overwhelmed by the whole idea of having such an outrageous amount of money to spend. You affectionately brush one of his curls away from his face.

“Don’t worry, we have all night to figure it out.”

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[faydera]

How it all began:

Drip...  Drip...  Drip... 

The soft plinking of water against stone cut through the stagnant air of what could only be described as a makeshift sanctum. Small streams of light shone through cracks in the masonry, sending ominous shadows shifting and swirling around the room with the placement of the setting sun. Amidst the pile of frayed blankets and threadbare pillows that were piled haphazardly into the middle of the room, sat the small frame of an Elven woman. Her legs were crossed, hands cradling the visible bump that overtook her midsection as she meditated. She had done what had been asked of her, what had been easier than anticipated. To seduce a holy man and bear his child... It really should have been a more difficult feat, but for the most part men are weak. Flesh was weak.     Shadows sifted around this woman, forming tendrils of darkness that wound itself in the corners of the room before reaching outwards. Criss crossing over one another; forming a tight lattice that blocked out the small amounts of light that had been filtering in not moments before. Plunged into an inky darkness, the light blonde hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Ever so slowly her eyes opened, bright blue hues trying and failing to adjust to the newfound darkness.   “Master.” The woman breathed out, reveling in the presence that was overtaking the small room. Oh, how she missed this, even when but a moment had passed... it was all she could think on. Of how to get back to this feeling, how to entice her master’s attention back onto her. Perhaps... perhaps.     “You’ve done well, Kasalia.” A raspy voice flittered across her subconscious, the room eerily and almost oppressively silent. One single eye appeared in the darkness behind her, followed by another and then another. Three in total, shifting silently against the pitch-black backdrop. “And yet I sense... hesitation. Have you already grown to care for it?” It didn’t sound displeased, merely curious as to what could cause such feelings in its disciple.

“On the contrary.” She began, her words echoing against the never-ending darkness. It was now or never, so the Quel’dorei may as well try her luck and pray she had gained the favor necessary to achieve her goals. “I wish to offer her to you, Master. In exchange for a boon, the smallest fraction of your powers so that I may feel with you at all times.” It was a girl; she had discovered not six bells ago. One who was due any day now. The knowledge failed to stir any maternal feelings, which was likely for the best. Kasalia had little wish to be attached to the creature she was growing, the parasite sapping her energy and demanding nutrients so that it could continue to evolve.    A deep laughter slipped from her mind and into the room proper, echoing and reverberating to the point where the sounds melded together. The illusion of many different voices all joined together in a cacophony of amusement. Those slitted eyes shifted into her vision proper, red and orange colorings meeting blue before her gaze dropped in reverence. “You attempt to offer me my own creation.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. And for her part the Elven female appeared to be properly chastised before the voice continued, “I should abandon you fully, given your insolence.”     “N-no. Please.” Kasalia began, her voice overcome with emotion and sorrow at the very thought. She needed this, couldn’t bear to live without it. Just the thought caused her skin to itch, a longing to dig her nails into the wiggling beings that she swore crawled just beneath the surface. “Forgive me. Forgive me and I’ll do anything. Be anything you desire of me.” Tears began to fall, staining her face with their tracks as they descended the curve of high cheekbones and trailed down to drip from her chin. There was a desperation in her voice, raw and unfiltered as she uttered just a few more words, “Just don’t leave me.”   Slivers of darkness shifted invisibly against the background, forming tentacle like appendages that reached from the nothingness out to her. Shadows compressed and formed into physical beings, lifting her chin upwards to where the Quel’dorei was forced to gaze into those large unblinking orbs. Blue eyes widened; retinas bubbling and melting as more tendrils shot out in order to restrain her. Four to hold open her eyelids, two to restrain her body, and one last that pressed against her gorged bellybutton... slithering inside the larger body to reach the smaller, not returning. Screams caught in her throat, vocal cords ripping and tearing themselves apart at the force of her wails. The sound, much like her spoken words before reverberated off the walls... twisting into something that no longer resembled the cry of a humanoid. Tear tracks were joined by the gel-like material of vitreous humor, hot and sticky against her flesh as she continued to wail in pain. 

The laughter was back, mixing with her screams in an unholy dissonance that threatened to shake the very walls of her room. Ever so slowly the tendrils retreated, and without their support Kasalia slumped over onto the pile of neglected pillows and blankets that had been all but forgotten about. Her brain was on fire, neurons trying desperately to connect with organs that were no longer there. The imprint of large orange eyes remained... trapped behind her unseeing gaze. “Thank you.” Her voice was harsh, hardly above a whisper due to the strain of her screams moments before. A small smile was set upon her lips, forever allowed to look upon the gaze of her master even if it came at the cost of seeing everything else.     Without another word, another whisper, the darkness began to retreat. Pulling back in on itself as small flickers of the nearly set sun shone through cracks in the walls. The dripping returned, or had it ever left? One couldn’t be terribly sure. What was clear was the smallest sound of laughter, bubbling up through nearly torn vocal cords and staining the air with its sound. Kasalia laid there, staring unseeingly up at the ceiling as the cackle continued to pour forth from her lips. Her master was with her... with her always now. All else was forgotten, nothing else mattered. As if on instinct a hand went to her midsection, feeling the nearly developed child within move and shift under the distress of its mother. “His creation, my Faydera.”  

[queenie-official]

Chapter Four: ‘The Groom To Be’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3

a/n: hey guys 🤭 so as per usual the pictures used all correlate to the story so do keep that in mind while reading🥰 Also Thank you so much for 200+ followers i love you all 💋💋 Hope you enjoy this chapter loves🫶🏼

To your delight or rather relief you’ve been told that Anakin would be joining you in the castle a day before the wedding along with his mother and brother. the royal council deemed it necessary so that they could ensure everything went smoothly and the possibility of the groom not arriving on time would be one less worry. unfortunately you had received this news from Barclay right before you were about to head to sleep. so now you find yourself on your balcony staring off into the night sky unable to sleep. thoughts of what’s to come plaguing your mind, fighting the urge to pace around- a typical nervous habit of yours- when a soft voice came from behind you. “your majesty you should sleep”

“i would if i could Eleanora but my thoughts betray me” you say with a sigh, not bothering to turn around. instead you kept your gaze on the moon as the cool night breeze blew over your face. “shall i make you some tea to help calm you?” she suggested as you leaned against the railing, resting your head in your palm. “tea would be nice but i am quite alright” you answer airily.

“very well” she replies but does not leave, instead standing still in the doorway behind you. finally you turn to acknowledge her properly “shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you ask curiously, seeing her with night garments of her own on. “i find it hard to sleep when you cannot your majesty. i worry for you” she says with knitted brows, concern written all over her. you felt bad for causing her worry. “i promise i am fine. i just cannot seem to rest knowing that he will be here again in the morning, this time i properly have a chance to speak with him and yet i haven’t a clue what i should say.” you vent, walking into your room and allowing Eleanora to close the doors to the balcony behind you as you sit on your bed to speak with her. “a simple greeting is always a good start, considering you didn’t last time.”

“that’s because i hadn’t been given the chance” you said a bit defeatedly. “you could try now” simple and true but for some reason it didn’t seem so easy to you. “i find it strange how much i want to talk to him, maybe im just curious as to what his voice sounds like” you wonder out loud, fiddling with the lace curtains attached to your bed frame. “it sounds perfectly reasonable to me, you want to get to know him he is going to be your husband after all.” you sigh whilst letting yourself fall back onto your bed, laying with your legs hanging over the edge. “i can only hope he wishes to get to know me too, but if his silence is anything to answer i fear he may not.”

“perhaps he’s just shy” she suggests and the idea makes your nose wrinkle. you hadn’t known many princes to be shy, most of them had egos too high for that to be a possibility. “i suppose that is a perfectly reasonable explanation, but what good is a shy king?”

“won’t that be easier for you then your majesty?” you turn your head too look over to her, she’d sat down at the ottoman in front of your bed so that she could be closer while you voiced your thoughts to her. “how so?” you ask with a raised brow, unsure how him being shy could possibly be a good thing.

“well there won’t be much of a power struggle between the two of you” she says and the statement made you laugh. she wasn’t wrong and you weren’t laughing at what she said specifically, but you where laughing at the mere idea of a power struggle happening. “there would not be a power struggle regardless, i get enough of being told what to do by the men in the royal council. i shall not allow that in my marriage” you state firmly once your laughter dies down, a small smile on your face as you spoke.

“of course your majesty” she says in response, a similar smile mirrored onto her face. “i think i will have that cup of tea Eleanora” you say softly, sitting up and moving to sit against your pillows.“yes your majesty” she responded, happy to be of help and to see you in a lighter mood.

the sun was shining brightly in the sky as you waited rather impatiently for the carriage to arrive. the only thing stopping you from pacing in a circle was Padme on your left and Eleanora on your right, so instead you walked up and down the length of the castle hallways. they where supposed to arrive already, late by over an hour now. the idea they might not show at all has crossed over your mind multiple times now but both girls beside you where quick to shut that down each time you brought it up. of course they where right but if that is the case then what possibly could cause such a long delay.

“y/n we really need to work on some different coping skills” padme said sounding quite winded as she did. the poor girls where practically jogging to keep up with your fast pace. "yes or at the very least you ought to get a slower walking speed" Eleanora added quickly, struggling to catch her breath as well. "sorry" you say and pause your actions allowing the two girls to catch up to you. “i don’t know why i’m so worried, it would be perfectly understandable for them to arrive late. it’s not like our kingdoms are close.” you didn’t realize how quickly you rushed those sentences out of your mouth until you saw the look on Eleanora’s face. thankfully Padme seemed to understand what you said, probably used to deciphering sentences from her own children. “exactly so let’s take a deep breath and calm down, if anything this is exactly why they are coming a day early. no need to work up a sweat over this” She says softly, a gentle hand resting on your shoulder to help ground you.

“Ah your majesty there you are, the carriage has arrived” a breath of relief exited you at Barclay’s proclamation. “thank you for letting me know i’ll be down in just a moment” Barclay nods at your response and heads back down the hall probably to go greet your guests and properly invite them in. you turn back to the girls and Padme gives you a soft smile. “i’m guessing that’s my cue to leave” she says with a laugh and you give her a hug silently thanking her for always being here for you. as you pull away she gives you one more look that says you’ve got this before she leaves through the gardens again. “i’ll busy myself in the library your majesty” Eleanora adds so that you don’t have to worry about her, she gives you a smile of her own as well before heading off.

Taking a deep breath you turn to look into one of the mirror panes in the hallway, making sure you hadn’t messed up your hair. flattening your hands along your dress to smooth out wrinkles as well as rid the sweat from your palms. today you where going to make it your mission to talk to Anakin- even if he was reluctant to speak with you or even look at you. turning on your heel you walk down the hallway at a reasonable pace as you mentally prepare yourself for however the next couple interactions go.

as soon as you entered the room they where waiting for you in, you immediately greeted them with warm smiles. only something was different this time. instead of the side of a tan face you where met with the last time you where in a room with Anakin you where instead met with the beautiful pair of blue eyes you had only caught a glimpse of, the sight made your stomach swirl.

forcing yourself to tear away from his eyes as you walked up to them, you look at who you presumed was his mother. “your majesty a pleasure to meet you” you gave the queen a low bow, in terms of status she outranked you. so it only seemed right to bow properly before her.

“a pleasure to meet you as well your highness” she says with a soft smile giving you a quick bow as well. “you’ve already met my sons” she says with a gesture towards them and you nod before greeting them. “yes it’s good to see you both again” both boys give you a nod in turn but only Obi-Wan speaks “thank you for having us” you smile politely but you can’t help but wonder why Anakin still refused to speak. at least he was looking at you this time, that’s progress.

“it is still early and im sure you all are hungry, i’ll have Barclay here lead you all to the dining room” both the queen and Obi-Wan seemed pleased with that suggestion and happily nodded, the only person who didn’t give you any indication of what they where thinking was once again Anakin. it was beginning to frustrate you, why wouldn’t he speak to you. Mad or not you’d rather him talk to you and tell you off then stay in silence.

“feel free to make yourselves at home” is what you said instead of voicing your thoughts, making sure to keep up the happy facade until they all left with Barclay. you did not let this falter you though, growing more determined to get him to talk or at the very least to find out why he wouldn’t speak to begin with. maybe he had an impediment, you wouldn’t judge him for it- in fact when you where younger you had quite the difficulty saying words with the letter R and sometimes you swore it came back whenever you where extremely nervous.

pushing your thoughts aside you decided to busy yourself with some work, so off to your study you went.

it had been a few hours since you’d last seen them all and you’d finished most of the work you needed to do for the day, according to Barclay Obi-Wan went to the library to read and the queen went to the room she’d be staying in for some much needed rest after the long carriage ride. as for Anakin well he wasn’t quite sure where he’d run off too, so you had taken it upon yourself to find him. this was the perfect moment to get him to talk.

the only problem was where ever he had disappeared to had made him next to impossible to find. you’d spent the last 15 minutes searching for him before you almost gave up.

sighing as you looked outside a window is when you saw him- or at least what you could only assume was him. quickly picking up your skirt so you didn’t trip, you sped through the castle to get to the side exit closest to where you had seen him.

sure enough there he was, sitting upon a half wall and resting against a pillar with his eyes closed peacefully. you slowed your pace as you approached him, trying to seem as casual as possible. “you seem comfortable.” you watch as he peaks an eye open to look at you before he answers. “i believe you said we could make ourselves at home.” he closed his eyes again right after he finished speaking. you couldn’t help but smile brightly once you realized he actually spoke though. “ah so he speaks” you say jokingly but it definitely came off more as a revelation.

“of course i do” he said now opening both of his eyes to look and address you properly, clearly realizing you weren’t going to leave him be anytime soon. “well i’ve yet to hear you say a thing up until now” you defend yourself, feeling like what you’d said was justified. “did you need to hear me speak?” he asks and that question confuses you. of course you didn’t need to hear him speak, but why would you not want to.

“i suppose not… is there a reason you didn’t” you ask curiously. “yes” he responds, and you nod waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t. you shift slightly in your spot as the silence continues before realizing you’d have to press further if you wanted a answer out of him. “will you tell me the reason?”

“if you wish to know” you resist the urge to roll your eyes at that response, so this is how it was going to be. “if i didn’t, i wouldn’t have said anything at all” you point out the obvious. “it was a choice i made to annoy my brother” he stated simply. the bluntness of it throwing you off for a moment. “what?” he smiles slightly at the question and your reaction, was he just teasing you? “on the first carriage ride here i was given a firm lecture on how i was to say and do nothing so that everything would go smoothly.” he says and although you got a proper answer this time you couldn’t help but raise a brow in concern. “should i worry why you speaking would cause things to not go smoothly?”

“not at all” he said with another smile, he was definitely pulling your leg. “not very reassuring” he simply shrugs at your statement. “so the reason you did not speak to me was out of spite for your brother?” you ask again to reconfirm his answer. “that is what i said yes” he crossed his arms as he spoke, leaning back against the pillar again as he waited for your response. you roll your eyes and think over that fact. okay so he was a petty person, that could go either way considering you’re also quite petty.

“but why didn’t you look at me” you ask curiously, being petty and refusing to speak was one thing but not even acknowledging your existence was another. “i’ve been told my stare can be quite intense” that certainly wasn’t the answer you had expected. “i don’t understand you.” he gives you another shrug.

“you’re really casual about all of this” you opt for a change of conversation. “what do you mean?” he says whilst he shifts so that he’s sitting with his legs hanging over the wall and his body facing you. “i mean about this whole marriage situation, you don’t seem mad or even scared”

“should i be?” he asks with a tilt of his head. “you aren’t scared to marry me?” you ask incredulously. “i’m getting the feeling you want me to be”

“i’m a stranger” you point out to him, how could he not be scared of marrying a complete stranger. “are you scared of marrying me?” you blink a few times not having expected him to throw the question back at you.

“how could i not be, i don’t know you” he seems to ponder over your answer for a brief moment. “so we’re both strangers that means we have common ground” he answers with another shrug. what was going on? had you been overthinking this situation entirely, or maybe he just wasn’t as easily distraught about his entire life being changed practically overnight- neither of these seemed like the correct conclusion.

“i’m confused” he raised a brow at that. “i feel im being very straightforward” you scoff once again resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his statement “this conversation is going nowhere”

“where would you like it do go?” he asks you and you aren’t quite sure what to say to that so you shift the conversation again. “i prefer someone to speak their mind to me.” he’s nods in acknowledgment but remains silent again looking off to the side like he was thinking something over.

you look him over again in this moment of silence taking note of the clothes he was wearing- they where a little over casual for a prince especially compared to what his mother and brother had been wearing, he could of been easily mistaken as a stablehand. “you know to be a king you are to dress the part” you say boldly and watch as he looks back over to you. “i prefer comfort over luxury” he retorts. “most people would consider luxury comfort” he laughs at your response and it made your face flush slightly, unsure why he was laughing until he calmed down and spoke again. “let me ask you then, is that corset you’re wearing comfortable?” alright fair point on his end but it’s not like he had to wear a corset.

“if the people saw you they’d think i’m marrying someone of poverty. it would be a scandal” he rolled his eyes at that- you weren’t being completely serious mostly just wanting to see if you could get a reaction out of him the same way he had been doing to you, having to resist the urge to smile when it worked.

“everything leads to scandals.” you snort a laugh and you could of sworn you saw a smile form on his lips again when you did. he wasn't wrong though just about everything did lead to a scandal. “you cannot be seen in public dressed like that.” you add still wanting to tease him.

“good thing the public is not here then” you smile, he was funny. “fair enough” was all you could think to say and he chuckled “that’s all you got then?”

“for now anyways, yes” you look back over to the castle deciding you should probably speak with the other two guests as well. “i’ll let you get back to what you where doing before i got here” he nods in response and you begin to walk away only to stop a few moments later by the sound of his boots hitting the ground and jogging over to you “wait i have something for you.” you turn towards him tilting your head to the side unsure what he could possibly have to give you “i’m sorry?”

“a gift” he says and holds up a small box in his hand, holding your hand out he gently places the box into your palm. “what is this?” you tilt the box to the side trying to see if you’d hear something move around. “open it” and so you did just that, gently pulling the box open to reveal a silver ring with beautiful tiny flower details on it and a big yellow diamond on the center that glimmered beautifully in the sunlight. “my mother suggested i get you an engagement ring to make it seem like we’ve known each other longer and love each other to the public eye” you carefully pull the ring out handing him back the box and placing it on your left ring finger. holding your hand out to look at it on you, it truly was pretty.

“clever idea… i’ve never seen a yellow diamond before” you look up into his eyes not surprised to see him staring down at you, having felt him watch over your entire reaction. “they’re quite rare most places but in Tatooine they are common.”

“thank you” you smile at him, there was definitely worse people you could of been forced to marry and so far Anakin seemed like the lucky straw to pull. you could definitely work with this.

part 5

Tag List: @luvvfromme @bimbo-baggins86 @gatekeepingirlboss

ima tell you guys this now cuz i want you to pick up on the change but pay attention to how reader copes with anxiety and stress now just for future reference 🌝🌝 anyways next chapter is going to be the wedding and ball (because is it really bridgerton without a extravagant ball?) hope you huns enjoyed this chapter Xx<3 🤭

[averydayss]

Wish You Were Sober

Fem!reader, nonidol!jungwon, mentions of Karina of aespa

‼️: Jungwon's kind of an asshole, angst, angst, more angst

Wc: 700ish, feel free to send a req xx

How did you find yourself in the middle of a frat party? It all started when Jungwon, her best friend of 2 years who was with her through thick and thin who she fancies, invited her to his friends party. 

“Come on Y/n! It would be fun, besides i'll be with you the whole time” Said Jungwon

Y/n didn't want to waste an opportunity to spend time with him, so she accepted his invitation

The duo arrived at the party. The party was really noisy. people kissing, individuals dancing on the dance floor, the smell of alcohol

“I'll go to the bathroom for some time, stay here so it’ll be easier to find you” said y/n

Jungwon gave y/n a slight nod before she walked to the nearest bathroom

“Jungwon? It's been such a long time! How have you been?” a sudden voice fills his ears 

“Karina? I haven't seen you in so long! I've been doing good, what about you?” Jungwon answered the pretty girl who was looking at him with love eyes

When y/n was back, Unbeknownst to her. Jungwon, her best friend or so called seems to be occupied by a girl

“Y/n! This is Karina, my childhood friend. Karina, this is y/n, my friend" Jungwon introduced the two girls to each other.

Y/n eyerolls at the introduction. “friends” of course, they were just friends in Jungwon’s dictionary. Friends, nothing more

This party's shit, wish we could dip

The party went smoothly, at least for Jungwon. Y/n finds the party absolutely boring, Jungwon was too busy talking, laughing, joking with Karina by the stool while drinking beer. Leaving her alone by herself

Hours went by, Karina and Jungwon were still talking together without a care in the world, Y/n had enough. She wasn't letting 2 people ruin her saturday. She walked out of the frat party house.

I'ma crawl outta the window now

'Cause I don't like anyone around

Kinda hope you're following' me out

But this is definitely not my crowd

She kind of hoped that Jungwon would follow her out of the party without Karina. Unexpectedly. Jungwon realized her disappearance and quickly catched up with her outside

“Y/n! Why are you out so soon? I thought we were supposed to spend our time together” Said Jungwon who was clearly drunk

Y/n visibly scoffed at his words, “spend our time together”? He left her to go talik to Karina the whole time without even thinking about her feelings. But then again she was just his friend

“I was just bored, besides you were busy with Karina” Y/n tried to reason

Jungwon could see the evident frown on her face, after all they were friends. “Oh really? Then lets ride my car around”

Jungwon seems the sweetest when he was drunk, he treated y/n like his girlfriend. Opening the car door for her, attaching on the seatbelt for her, placed his hand on her thigh, kissing her in his rover, he never did this sober

“Real sweet, but i wish u were sober” she mumbled, quickly waking up to reality, realizing that he wouldn't remember this the next day

Just like her prediction, Jungwon didn't remember a thing the next day. Jungwon went back to being the friend he always was

“Hey, do you think I should text Karina? We had so much fun yesterday, i'm thinking of taking her on a date soon” asked Jungwon out of the blue

Y/ns heart undeniably breaks at his words, of course he would forget, of course he did not meant anything he said and did yesterday, of course they were only friends

“Y/n? I asked you a question, why do you seem upset?” asked Jungwon jokingly

“You should ask Karina out! You guys seem like such a good match together” Y/n lied, still heartbroken about the whole ordeal. “Actually I just remembered I have a quiz tomorrow, I have to go study. Bye Jungwon!” said y/n, still trying to keep her tears from being visible

Jungwon seems to not answer, not even a nod, not even a sound. He was busy texting Karina on the date that they were planning “Hm?” asked Jungwon, not hearing what y/n just said

“Nevermind, i just have to go, bye Jungwon” answered y/n. Jungwon didn't answer anything but a slight nod which broke y/n's heart more. 2 years was all nothing for him, now that he got his Karina, Karina became his 1st choice.

“I wish you were sober” y/n again, said in her heart. But then again, she had to face reality in which they weren't anything more but friends.

A/N: This is my first post so im very very sorry for any grammatical mistakes, please show ur support!

💳: divider by @v6que & @chachachannah . Images are not mine, i found them on pinterest, credits to all the owners

[gunnrblze]

Till Death, pt 1

Keegan x Ajax series! This was supposed to be lighthearted and funny tbh but as always, I had to insert decades long yearning and desire and longing, silly me smh. I apologize if any of it’s confusing, I’m not very good with writing scenes of only two people with the same pronouns, so the use of he/him may get a little mistakable with who exactly I’m referring to. Also the writing is just kinda all over the place lol enjoy that.

༄ 1500k+ words, mild mention of dick and ass but no smut (yet?), so mdni idc, yearning in the full definition of the word, sap fest fr

Mornings always came a little dreadfully at first on base. Pushing through the initial exhaustion from the day before was never easy. Especially knowing you’d be doing the same menial tasks all over again.

Something made it a little easier whenever Keegan caught wind of Alex, though.

Alex moved like a body of water, somehow smoother and more fluid than the rest of the clunking boots around them. Keegan knew it was a slippery slope whenever he admired his smile for a bit too long, or the way he felt his heart catch whenever Alex slung his arm around his shoulders.

He knew their erotic jokes didn’t mean much. It was all in good fun, anyway. Hell, all the guys made jokes like that with one another. It didn’t mean anything, unless it did. But Keegan knew it didn’t.

Didn’t. Unless maybe Alex felt it too. Felt his pulse quicken or his pants get tighter around his crotch whenever he saw Keegan crack a rare little grin, or catch him shirtless in the showers after training.

Maybe that was just the thing about the military. You could joke here and slap an ass there with your fellow men, but the second you started dreaming about your lips against his or your cock anywhere but your own pants or fist, it was different.

Keegan didn’t mind too much, though. He didn’t have time to mind. From the moment he woke up above Alex in the barracks every morning, to the moment he fell asleep in the same spot every night, he was busy with everything else that went on.

So if he had to pretend the sound of Alex snoring wasn’t imprinted into his mind already, then so be it. He could push past the fact that Alex was near him practically all day. Slept below him and trained with him, ate with him, worked with him, goofed off with him like idiots. He’d ignore that he could identify the broad man by his scent alone.

And Alex would simply do the same. He would allow himself only a few minutes a day to really think about those deep blue eyes that followed him. To really think about how his own eyes would trace over the bottom of the bunk above him at night, trying to map out the lines of where he imagined Keegan’s body rested on top.

The setup was okay. They were both avoidant enough to ignore the lingering glances and touches. Morning trainings came and went, mealtimes and meetings and daily work flashed by like the hands on a clock.

And they pretended. Pretended that seeing the other hurt in the field or taking on enemies too great a size didn’t tear at their heartstrings when it was all said and done.

This wasn’t a job that allowed attachment. It was too fast moving. Everyday was the same on base, but things moved too quickly to really claim a stake anywhere.

Except Keegan and Alex seemed to follow one another, whether intentionally or not. From basic recruit training to joining Task Force Stalker and becoming Ghosts together, where one man went the other followed.

Just how they liked it.

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“Ajax, rise and shine, pretty boy” Keegan’s grumbly voice would stir the large man in his bunk, tossing over and rubbing the few hours of sleep from his eyes.

“Again with the nickname?” Ajax’s tone was too riddled with exhaustion for Keegan to decipher his true level of annoyance, but he knew the man too well.

“You seemed to dislike ‘AJ’ so we’re just trying to freshen it up, sue me” he answered, giving the man a pat to the cheek and not even trying to hide his smirk before walking toward the door.

“Right, get outta here and make yourself useful, Russ” Ajax retorted with a gruff chuckle as he rose from his bed, stiff muscles and joints already aching. He’d been a marine so long he wasn’t sure if his body was cracking from the exertion, or if every guy in their mid 20s had the lower back pain comparable to an elderly mans.

A smirk adorned his face too though, despite himself. Keegan’s short huff of laughter wasn’t nearly as melodic as it always sounded to him, but it bounced off the hallway of the barracks and right into his eardrums nonetheless, worming its way into that warm, gooey part of his heart that he chose to keep shut up. For the greater good, of course.

Ajax didn’t ever seem to be too deterred by early mornings, despite his initial disdain upon opening his eyes and seeing even the slightest sliver of light. He could make the best out of what felt like the worst. Even PT at 0500 hours, wide smile lighting up the room in a way that had every other soldier wanting to slap it right off his pretty face. His charm felt like a hand around Keegan’s throat, squeezing and squeezing and threatening to cut off his air supply, lest he shut it down before he gets comfortable with the idea of not breathing.

It was like that everyday. Keegan would watch him both up close and from afar, opting to observe everything instead of speak like the other man tended to, apparently. He wouldn’t typically favor being surrounded by a guy who couldn’t seem to shut up, but when it was Ajax’s deep voice that bass lined the walls of the armory while he was cleaning his M40, well, how could one dare complain?

Ajax was too tactful not to notice Keegan’s staring, of course. He wasn’t stupid, too perceptive not to see the way the man’s eyes raked over him, all of him. Deep blues combing over every inch of his being as if he were noticing the man for the first time. It was something he’d done from the days they’d met in basic training.

Keegan’s silent once overs used to deter Ajax from wanting to get to know the man better, assuming he had to have some kind of unspoken issue with him. But Ajax quickly found that Keegan’s voice just didn’t seem to come naturally to the man, maybe it was better for him to look than speak? It didn’t quite explain why he had to look at him like that, he was just thankful that the hot blush was masked on his dark cheeks whenever Keegan’s eyes not so inconspicuously studied the way his uniform stretched around his biceps, or the way the water rolled off his ass in the shower.

It was almost so blatant at times that Ajax felt as if he knew the man had something more going on in his mind. But he didn’t indulge himself in the idea. The idea that these lingering glances meant anything other than Keegan’s keen perception subtly making itself known. The near brooding man looked that same way at everything. From his rifle to his superiors teachings to the landscapes during recon missions, Keegan took in all the details that he could.

But it didn’t stop Ajax from feeling like it was something special. Something that made his heart clench and mind go fuzzy for half a second because Keegan was watching him. He could look at the other privates, watch his back wherever he went as if some pre-installed hyper vigilance riddled his system, but he was observing Ajax.

Keegan’s approach of looking but not speaking seemed to mirror that of Ajax’s. He could talk to Keegan all he wanted, but if he really found himself staring the way his eyes begged for permission to, he’d get lost in the man. His eyes so deep and blue that Ajax didn’t even care how cheesy it felt to compare them to the Pacific.

Mealtimes felt like a reprieve from the rough routine they endured everyday, and Keegan found himself relishing even in the manner Ajax ate in. It wasn’t ever too long before his eyes found their way back to the dark brown ones that would sit across from him. Was he jealous when Ajax would wrap an arm around the waist of the soldier next to them? Joking and laughing in a way that he only wished he could reciprocate? No, he wagered. He just didn’t like Private Brooks and that stupid horse laugh of his, that’s all.

“Gonna eat that, Keeg? You know I’ll take it” Ajax would toss a joking wink to Keegan when his fork shuffled around the mush of peas on his tray. He felt like a damned schoolboy again, swapping lunch trays with his friend whenever he didn’t like part of his meal. But the smile Ajax gave him seemed to make the noise in his head disappear if only for a moment, pearly teeth contrasting against velvety dark skin.

Keegan’s heart thrummed as he walked across base to work, boots clanking on the pavement in time with the muscle that threatened to explode from behind his ribcage if he thought about that damned smile for any longer.

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[moreespressoformydepresso]

EPIC: The Musical has me in a chokehold so I made a TBOSAS AU where the tributes are all eldritch creatures whose true might was dormant. Maybe reaping them at the same time was a rebel plot, maybe it was divine intervention, but it happens. It happens and the stress of the situation causes one of them to snap. The others soon follow.

All have eldritch forms tied to an element. Ones that aren’t the traditional four count (so metal, void, light etc). They have minor control over that element aside from the eldritch form and can spawn whole realms where their inner creature thrives which only they can access. So a creature tied to the element fire can be resting in their own personal badass volcano lair and then spawn in the ‘real’ world via a portal in the form of a flame. They can create the flame too, but they can’t travel very far and there are ways to mess with the teleportation. Also, the kids retain a version of their human form even when they’re ‘transformed’ because their eldritch form isn’t an alternate form, it’s more an extension of them that’s hidden until they reveal them. I’m using the word transformation because it’s easier. I’ve got many ideas but I’ll start with what inspired this AU: Treech as Scylla in the song Scylla.

I’m going with snakes over the dogs sometimes used in mythology because I think it’s more terrifying (and also I’ve seen one animatic with adorable serpents and fell in love with the big eyes and boopable snouts and massive razor sharp teeth dripping with blood). Treech’s eldritch form is a base with six ginormous serpents sticking out of it. If his human form’s attached to it, he’s a part of the base, usually with only his upper body visible. He has scales with a gradient of forest green, indigo, and Persian blue. When fully transformed, all of his eyes are a glowing icy blue or maya blue (I want to make them fully black but with all the dark shades that’s less terrifying imo) and his human form has lines of scales going in spirals down his body and creeping up on the edges of his face. When Treech starts his transformation, his pupils turn into predator slits and his irises turn light blue. The blue spreads out until it takes up the whole eye. When he gets mad, it might bleed into the veins around his eyes. The serpents themselves start out as glowing outlines all over his skin like tattoos that start to peel off and slowly grow to the terrifying size of his full eldritch form.

The part in the song after Scylla says “hello :)” is the part where he transforms, his voice slowly sounding more and more inhuman (he can sound like a human but like- go big or go home right?) and instead of just killing six people he massacres whole squads of peacekeepers (though he spares innocents like kids because he’s determined to rub it in the Capitol’s face that a literal man-eating serpent monster is more compassionate than they could ever hope to be) in his quest for both vengeance and freedom. It’s not even the biggest slaughter in the big revenge spree the tributes go on together, but still. I’m giving Treech vague siren-like aspects (his singing voice can cause a loss of focus and amply emotions like fear) instead of the telepathy Scylla has in EPIC. A little nod to the song that started this AU.

I might continue this and I’m working on some art for this AU (might post, might not, I’m not sure yet).

[cherry-holmes]

E R E S M Í A | Javier Peña x F!Reader❤️‍🔥

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña – Chapter 11.5

aka I’m ovulating

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: You and Javier have funnier things to do than packing your stuff from your apartment.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word count: +1.6k

Warnings: this is pure and complete SMUT. Oral sex (fem receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Doggy style. A little bit of spanking. Dirty talk. Praise kink. Breeding kink if you squint.

A/N: SO… I’m tryin’ to save my semester here, so I’m having a delay on chapter 12, but since I’m so fuckin’ horny here’s some smut. Hope you like it and stay tuned for chap 12 very soon!!!!

A/N 2: READER DOESNT HAVE PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. The image of the collage is use just as visual.

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You didn't know how did you both ended up on the floor, but you didn't care. You just couldn't think or care about anything else that wasn't his mouth on your pussy. The couch was right there beside you, yet he had you completely naked and whimpering on your apartment's floor.

He was so concentrated down there, licking your core, drinking every trace that might remain of your long gone innocence. Your fingers were between the strands of his hair, your back arched as you tried to cope the devastating pleasure of his touch.

Both of his hands reached to your breasts, massaging them at first and then his fingers began to stimulate your nipples, making your cried out louder. The slurping sounds filled the room, along with your voice full of lust calling his name.

"Javi... Javi..." you moan, and you caught his attention, "I... need you... oh, I need you inside... please!"

He stopped and looked up at you, his mustache and chin glistening with your slick. "We don't have condoms," he remembered to you.

"Please, I can take the pill," you insisted, and you could tell by the way his pants seemed to be suffocating him, that it would be easy to convince him.

"Those pills are full of hormones, baby, you know what I think about..." he started, but cut himself when your hand traveled down your body to your wetting folds, touching yourself.

"Don't tell me you don't want this, Javi," your voice was devilish and provocative. "I know you've always wanted to have my pussy dripping with your cum."

"Fuck..." he hissed, eyes darkening as he saw your fingers pleasuring yourself. You were so sensitive, so needy of his cock. "You're gonna kill me, baby," he said as he started to unbutton his jeans.

Your eyes followed his already naked torso, his tanned skin, broad shoulders and his irresistible slutty waist. He was painfully beautiful, manly and all yours. Javier Peña was your man.

"On your fours, baby," he ordered and you obeyed immediately. "Easy, if your ankle hurt just tell me," he said and you nodded as you accommodate yourself for him. His hands caressed your ass, exploring your waist, bending over you to trace a path of kisses along your spine to your shoulders and the back of your neck. You gasped when he spanked your ass, the perfect mix of delicacy and intense that made your pussy soaked with anticipation. "Such a nice ass, bonita," he praised as his fingers parted your folds, searching for your swollen clit to keep you wet. "I love making love to you, baby. You make me cum like no one else," he said, and it was true.

He had been with others, many times, but that was just sex. No attachments, no bonds, no feelings. He never cared about feelings; he thought he would never need them in matters of sex. It was better for him, easier. But you came into his life and changed his perspective. Javier learned that love, passion, and emotional bonds could change the way he enjoyed sex. And he loved sex with you.

His length made its way through the stretch walls of your pussy; gentle as he let you adapt to him. You felt his warm hands and his hairy pelvis against your ass. He bend over again, pushing himself further, making you whimper as you felt your own body trying to embrace his cock. You were sure you'll never get use to its size.

"Look at you, taking my cock so fuckin' good," he praised to your ear, low and raspy voice sending shivers down your body where you clenched your walls around him. He grunted at the sensation. "You're such a bratty, though, begging for my dick," he added, his hands taking your tits, squeezing them so delicious and torturous. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I-I want you to fill my pussy up, Javi," you answered, almost at the edge of lost every piece of control. You were already surrendering to him, to his desires. "Please, fuck me," your cheeks burned just to hear yourself.

He grinned, straightening up and finding a good position behind you. "As you wish, mi amor."

Javi's hips started thrusting in a slow pace, in and out, the friction giving both of you some relief, but you wanted more. You wanted Javier Peña to ruin you.

"Harder," you whispered sounding more desperate than you expected. He wanted to punish you, play teasing and torture you, but you looked so damn hot on in that position, you ass up for him... so his hands took a new place on your waist, pulling you against him as he pushed harder towards you. "Fuck, like that!"

The skin-to-skin sounds filled the apartment as your mouth emitted the most wonderful sounds of pleasure, whining and quivering with each bucked of his hips.

"Fuck damn it," he groaned roughly as he felt himself reaching your deepest point. Your back arched up as a response to the feeling, it hurt a little bit. "You okay?" He asked, concern filtering through his breathlessly voice, but he didn't stopped completely.

"Mhm," you nodded, "Don't stop, it feels so good," you encouraged him, and he took a second to find another signal of uncomfortably from you. When he didn't, his pace restarted. He angled his hips to push inside deep as he could go, and this time you just cried out with completely pleasure.

As he was making sure he wasn't hurting you, his movements became more confident and then he was fuckin' you like he had never done before. Holding your hips as his thrusts were desperately but right to that sweet point.

"That's what you wanted?" He asked in a sharp breath, words coming out between his panting. "You fuckin' little thing, such a naughty girl." He spanked you, harder than before, and your walls clenching around him.

"Yes, Javi... don't stop, don't you..." words coiled at your throat, sinking in a hole of lust and passion.

He didn't showed mercy as he kept his hungry moves on you, adding some more spanks on your butt-cheeks, nasty words praising you and your body. His hands were all over your butt, the soft flesh of your tummy, his hands cupping your pussy.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you up and against his warm chest, holding you in a tight embrace. You sat on his lap, legs parted on each side of his, both kneeling as he buried himself deeply into you. One of his hands cupped one of your breasts roughly, while the other kept you still, his breath quivering in your ear as your moans escaped as broken sobs.

"Eres mía, sólo mía," he sighed with pleasure, his lips on your neck and shoulders as he traced soft wet kisses, some of them you knew would left a mark. "Te amo," he added at the time his hand left your breast to find your clit, tracing soft circles, "y amo tus labios, tu coñito, tus ojos, tus tetas... todo, todo lo que es mío."

You were entangled in sensations, thoughts full of love and lust, emitting incoherent moans. Your hips moved almost of their own volition, tracing circles on him as his fingers traced circles on your sensitive clit. You felt a river of sticky slick running down your core to his dick and balls. "You want more?" He asked and you could heard him grinning when you nodded, "Wanna have your sweet, tight, little cunt full of my fuckin' cum?" He asked, but this time when you nodded, he tightened his grip on your body and ordered you with a mandatory voice, "Say it, I wanna hear you."

"Ye-yes," you managed to say.

"Yes what?" He pushed.

"I want your cum dripping out my pussy, Javi, please, I want you to cum inside," your voice quivered, your cheeks burned and his balls shuddered at your words.

“Shit,” he groaned. Then, his arms released you, pulling back but still very inside of you. “Bounce on it, then, make cum,” he demanded.

Your hands went to the floor, founding a better position so you could start moving. Your hips went up and down, back and forth as you whimpered and whined at the overwhelming feeling.

Javier was mesmerized by the way your ass bounced, his big cock disappearing inside of you and coming out soaked with your honey. He was moaning, praising you, grunting as he felt his release coming closer. You were very close too.

“Ah! Ah! Javi… I’m gonna cum…” you warned him, and he took your hips to help you fastened your movements as he he growled full of lust and passion.

“Keep going, just like that, I’m coming, baby.”

Javier cum inside of you with a loud groan, eyes shut and his heavy weight curling over you. And when you felt your pussy filling with his thick, warm load, you came as your body convulsed under his. You could perfectly feel his cock twitching inside as both of your releases came out of you cunt, over the floor.

“You alright?” He whispered after a few moments, still trying to recover his breath.

“Yeah,” you answered, cock drunk, not wanting him to came out of you. “That was… awesome.”

“I know,” he agreed, his lips placing kisses on your back as he finally came out.

When you tried to climb to the couch, he took you by your waist, pulling you back to him. You laughed and sat on his bare lap, over his still wet, half-hard cock. His arms wrapped around you once more, his lips on your mouth to share a passionate kiss. His fingers traced a soft circles on your legs, and your fingers went to his hair to pull him closer.

You still have a lot of stuff to packed to officially moved to his place, but when his fingers found the way to your core filled of himself, you couldn’t say no.

CHAPTER 12