#this au is spinning out of control

[unboxt]

THREE DAYS. THREE DAYS THIS TOOK ME and yet i do not regret it whatsoever this was very fun :) ive not really drawn fanart in a good bit but i recently started a co-op COTL save with a friend (i play goat :3) and i took that as my free excuse to run STRAIGHT AT THIS FANDOM and do some fanart so uh hai guys hello hai :3

[smalltimidbean]

I am apparently having one of those weeks when I am drawing something, but it turns into something else dfgdf

Any way, Werewolf Peppino, bc I was thinking about him and the other beastpinos earlier - might draw them later hehe

[lesbianwyllravengard]

Going back into my cave after this but Wyllstarion x The Princess Diaries au. Wyll as Mia, Astarion as Nicholas, Tav as Andrew. You understand.

[foxwithashortsword]

Been listening to black out days, this section of lyrics was always my favorite. So naturally I must make an animatic for my bastard.

[artificervaldi]

would you like to hear about my very self-indulgent “XC1 + 2 characters pop up in Aionios” AU?

Oh hi! Sure!

[arolesbianism]

Also assume everything I say abt my comicfrin au is prone to change at any second I am simply having fun and experiencing whimsy

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 3 | masterlist

-

It’s not unusual for someone to mistake you for the baby’s mama.

How could someone not, at least for a moment? When you take the baby to the grocery store, older people gush over him babbling in his stroller, eager to shower him with compliments in baby-talk or tell you how much you resemble the little tyke. After hearing the same comment for the umpteenth time, you tire of correcting people by saying you’re the babysitter only to watch their face fall, somewhat mortified and feeling as though their comment should’ve been directed to the baby’s actual mother. Which isn’t you. 

It’s less typical for someone to mistake you for John’s wife, though that does happen from time to time.

You’ve become a fixture around the neighbourhood since John hired you at the beginning of the summer, and over the weeks, the other nannies and the stay-at-home moms have started to gradually warm up to you. Before long, you’re being invited on coffee runs and playdates with some of the other women, always careful to ask for John’s permission before bringing his baby into a stranger’s house.

“Just text me the address and their names,” he requests while you stand awkwardly in front of him, John sitting on the bed to finish buttoning up his shirt and fixing his watch around his wrist. You would’ve been fine standing on the other side of the door while he finished changing, but he insisted on inviting you in.

“I will,” you promise, nodding along with his words.

“And call me if you don’t feel comfortable. I’ll come get the two of you right away if you need me.”

You swallow. Nod again.

The first time you take the baby for a playdate with a couple of the moms from the park, one catches you in the act of texting John the address of the house as he requested. “Hubby wants to know where you are, huh?”

“Oh,” you choke out, face heating up. “He’s not—”

“Not a control freak, I know. They’re all like that.” Her smile is ebullient, rolling her eyes like you’re in on a joke together when you most assuredly are not. “Why don’t you share your location with him? Mine’s the same way. Here—I’ll show you how.”

She takes your phone and tap-taps something and suddenly you see it in the notifications of your conversation with John. If you bite your lip instead of correcting her assumption about the nature of your and John’s relationship, that’s for you and you alone to know. Your rationale is that any explanation will just make things tense; it’s not like you haven’t seen it happen before. 

It’s far more concerning when John doesn’t correct those assumptions. Particularly when you’re standing right next to him. 

Like at the local water park on a particularly hot weekend, wading in the kiddy pool with the baby nestled tight against your chest in his little swim trunks and floppy hat only for an employee to ask John if his wife would like something to drink. 

“Iced coffee, love?” John asks, taking your stupefied silence as a yes. “Nothing for me, mate. Cheers.” 

Your head spins like a top on that thought until a good while later. The server hands you a glass of iced coffee with condensation already dripping down the sides and John thanks him for you, taking the baby from you and pulling you to his side. You drink your coffee quietly with your thigh flush with his under the water, gripping the glass harder when his free hand squeezes around your waist, laughing at something another parent said to him.

It’s so over for you. There’s no coming back from this. 

The sight of someone of John’s size, a bulky, military man with arms of pure steel dusted with dark hairs, cradling a tiny, chubby baby with a thatch of similar dark hair on his head and big cheeks and roly poly arms unlocks something primal in you. An old, buried need. 

In the family changing room, you stand under an ice cold shower until it breaks the fever slowly consuming you. All you can do is hope it takes. 

In the evening, you sit out on the porch with John at the back of the house until the crickets swell with song, the moon a half-crescent in the sky. A cool breeze makes your shoulders lift a little, huddling into your body to keep warm. 

It’s hard to keep your eyes on the view in front of you and off the man sitting beside you when they want so badly to be running over him. He’s changed out of his work clothes into a soft pair of sweatpants and an old threadbare shirt, the sage green fabric faded after years of being run through the washing machine. It clings to his biceps and the soft pudge of his stomach, a layer of fat over the hard muscle beneath. 

A cigarette dangles from his fingers, thick wrist perched on the arm of the adirondack chair. Every so often he lifts it to his lips for a puff, always breathing out in the opposite direction from you. Considerate of your health, at least, if not his own. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks before ashing his cigarette, and your bottom lip purses when you turn your head to look at him because you thought you were doing a good job suppressing your shivers. 

You stare at him, confused. He cocks an eyebrow at your questioning stare and deliberately glances down, waiting until you notice the way your nipples are protruding through your white tank top. You forgot that you’d taken your bra off earlier for a bit of relief and hadn’t yet had a chance to put it back on. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, crossing your arms to hide as much as possible, humiliation flooding through you. “I’m so sorry—that’s so—I-I’m so sorry.”

John makes a rough sound when he rises to his feet, knees cracking as he does. “S’alright, hun. Lemme get you something to put on.”

The screen door creaks when he goes back inside briefly to fetch something only to come back a few seconds later with a big, cotton sweater that reeks of him. It looks well loved, some remnant of his younger years, and even from a distance, you can smell the distinct smoky aroma clinging to the fabric. 

When he kneels in front of you, you nearly go cross-eyed at the realisation that even on his knees, he’s as tall as you. The bulk of his waist forces your legs to spread around him. 

“C’mon, arms up,” John commands, barely waiting until you’ve raised your arms above your head before helping guide your head and arms into the right holes. 

Dragging the sweater down the way he does forces it to rub over your nipples, sending a shock through you. If you had any less self-control, your teeth might actually chatter together. 

“There we go,” he says, fluffing out the sweater around your waist before resting his hands on the tops of your thighs, the gesture coming so naturally to him that you doubt he’s even noticed the placement of his hands. “Much better. That’ll warm you up.”

He isn't wrong. You’ve already worked up a sweat. 

Late night rain.

It comes down in buckets, a dark slate rapping hard against the window pane. A bolt of lightning flickers across the horizon off in the distance. White striations across an otherwise dark sky. About thirty seconds later, thunder rumbles. 

You peek from between the blinds, chewing your lip nervously. You’ve never driven in rain this bad, but with supper done and the dishes washed, there’s no excuse for you to stay any longer. Still, the rain comes down so heavily that despite your timidity, you briefly contemplate asking John if you can stay a little longer. At least until it lets up a bit; until your headlights won’t blind you reflecting off the puddles on the drive home. 

Someone else pulls the blinds further apart.

“There’s no way in hell you’re going out in that,” John says from behind you, practically growling his words. Daring you to contradict him. 

You glance over your shoulder to find him right there at your back, staring out the window. He’s so close that you can smell the red sauce on his flannel from dinner and make out the flecks of grey in his beard that are almost masked by the darker hairs. 

“It’s not…that bad…”

“Sweetheart, don’t piss me off,” he warns.

The blinds shuttle back together with a clatter when you finally let go of them. 

“I could—I could take the couch,” you offer. 

“Sweetheart,” John sighs, looking down at you meaningfully.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“I’m not gonna take the big, comfy bed and leave you with the couch.” When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “And don’t even try arguing. I won’t hear it.”

There’s not much you can say to dissuade him after that. The furrow of his brow lets you know he’s made up his mind; no ifs, ands, or buts. Besides, there’s a not-so-secret part of you that’s relieved that you don’t have to drive home in this weather. You’re an average driver on a good day. You don’t need your last moments before shuffling off this mortal coil to involve hydroplaning on the highway before ramming into the guardrail. 

John gives you a shirt of his to change into for after your shower, which you spend far too long in, scrubbing your body with his shower gel and quivering under the warm water. When you pull it on, you bring the collar up to your nose to smell. The same patent smoky scent, musky like ambergris and leather. Intoxicating. It makes the blood rush through your ear like a conch shell, the ocean swirling behind your eardrum. 

You hadn’t asked for underwear, content at first to keep on the same pair, but after your shower, you cringe at the thought of putting your day-old panties back on. Besides, his shirt is long enough to cover anything indecent. 

He sits on the edge of the bed when you come out, the concern on his brow melting away at the sight of you. 

“Practically a dress on you, isn’t it?” John says, voice a little wondrous. His eyes drag over you, tip to toe. 

You fiddle with the ends of it. “…Are you sure you want me to take the bed?” 

“Wouldn’t be fair. It’s yours for the night.” His lips quirk up at the corners when you frown. “Don’t worry about me—I’ve slept in worse places before.”

“Like where?” you ask dubiously.

“Tents. Abandoned buildings. Shacks. In the back of a moving van a few times. You wouldn’t believe half the places we used to make camp. Definitely no place for pretty girls like you.”

His condescending tone vaguely annoys you, but it’s hard to dig into your irritation when he thumbs the edge of the shirt you’re wearing and you realise that he’s just a few raised inches away from noticing that you don’t have any panties on. You should’ve just put your old ones back on, but it’s far too late now. 

You clear your throat instead. “We could…um…we could share.” 

You don’t know what possesses you to offer to share the bed, but the words are already gone, out of your mouth and in the air. John cocks an eyebrow.

“Unless you don’t want to,” you amend. 

“Don’t know about that, sweetheart,” he rasps. “…I snore like a bear.”

“That’s okay. I’m a pretty deep sleeper.”

John scrutinises you a bit longer, looking for any sign of hesitancy. You know he’d squash your offer in a second if he found any wariness in your gaze. 

“Alright,” he finally concedes, letting go of your shirt and slapping his thighs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you wake up and can’t fall back asleep because of my snoring.”

After his shower, during which you lie on your side facing away from the bathroom door, stomach fraught with nerves as you consider the fact that he’s naked in the ensuite, you hear him come out and rummage around in the dresser for a change of clothes. You lie beside him with your stomach twisted in knots, your hands shoved under the pillow and staring resolutely at the wall. 

The appropriateness of sleeping in the same bed beside your boss isn't lost on you, but you're too far into this now.

The bed dips when he settles onto the other side, and the sudden absence of light when he switches the bedside lamp off nearly makes you cheep. 

He breathes heavily, you notice, particularly when he finally falls asleep. It’s a deep, rumbling sound—not entirely unlike a bear, though you can’t really confirm that for certain seeing as how you’ve never slept beside a bear before. 

Those are the thoughts that would signal the approach of sleep if you weren’t soon to be engulfed by it. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, you wake up to a rough hand stroking your back leisurely. There’s a hard chest under you, your cheek propped up on a pillowy pec that rises and falls with his breaths. Sleep bobs around in you like a toulouse decanter. You struggle to keep an eye open, certain that there’s something you need to tend to, but then his hand slides down your back again to curve over your rump and sleep drags you back down. 

You wake up again to your breath wafting back into your mouth, your face shoved into the crook of a man’s neck. Humid, hot. You’re lipping at the skin of his neck, little tongue darting out to lap up a bead of sweat, salty on your tongue. 

Your cunt pulses against his leg, toes curling when John drags his hand up your thigh and hitches it higher up around his waist. 

“Baby?” he groans, his voice still rusty from sleep. The sound is a rough burr up your spine. 

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Couldn’ get comfy.”

“You hot?” he asks.

The denial on the tip of your tongue slips back down your throat when he plants his foot on the bed and draws his leg up, pressing the meat of his thigh into your throbbing sex. 

“Here, lemme help you—” he groans, reaching down to ruck up your shirt, dragging it up over your breasts and helping manoeuvre your arms out of the holes. It gets tossed off the bed onto the floor. 

Now your breasts are flat on his chest, smushed against his ribcage. It registers somewhere in the back of your head as inappropriate, but sleep pushes that thought away, focusing instead on the discomfort of moving around when you just want to settle back down and go back to bed. 

It must be the heat making you act this way. 

“Shit—sorry, sweetheart,” he apologizes, shifting under you. “M’hot too.”

He plants a hand on your ass and heaves you up his chest, giving him enough room to wiggle out of his boxers. It pushes your breasts right into his face, your nipples mere inches from his mouth. When his tongue pokes out to wet his upper lip, it nicks your pebbled nipple. 

A hard length presses against your butt when you’re slid back down, the tip wet when it catches against your skin. 

“Jus’ ignore it, sweetie,” John mumbles, petting a hand down your back. 

You lie like that for a while, splayed over his body. Want simmering just under your skin. Flustered and exhausted all at once, sleep-drained; not a drop of strength in your muscles. 

The heat is just—

Scorching. Dizzying. You feel featherbrained, slipping in and out of sleep, biting off the whimpers that threaten to crawl up your throat when John tucks his hands into the crevice of your thighs to wrench them apart, spreading them around his hips again. 

Distantly, you remember that the man under you is at least twenty years your senior. Your employer at that. A man now palming your butt, sinking his fingers into the flesh and rumbling low in his throat. 

It’s wrong—flagrantly wrong. You know that you should say something, that you should get up and tell him that you’re going to sleep on the couch instead. But your tongue is too thick for your mouth. And your thoughts are a sticky paste. The pulse between your thighs empties out all the common sense from your head. 

His palms are slick on your skin. 

Your breathing grows shallow when a hard length suddenly pushes between your thighs as well. 

When the mushroomed head nudges at your opening, you flinch, heart thumping ferociously against your chest. 

“John—John—” you breathe, panicked. As if to warn him. As if he weren’t planting both feet on the bed and lifting his hips. 

As if it wasn’t his hands, warm on your waist, dragging you down onto the shaft spearing into you. 

Your blood is molten hot in your veins. Sticky hands and sticky fingers curl into his chest hair. Your head thumps against his pecs, too weak to hold it up, lipping at the damp skin of his chest. 

“It hurts—” you bleat, tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. 

“I know, baby, I know,” John pants. He draws his hips back just to press forward again, deeper this time. Filling you up more than before. “I’m sorry, baby—I can’t, it’s just…too good. Shit.”

Resolve in tatters. Shattered like his willpower, like his determination not to fuck the girl twenty years his junior sleeping beside him in his bed. 

His hips pump up into yours, bouncing you in his lap. Each thrust plunging his cock deeper into your pussy. It’d be painful if you weren’t so wet, but you’re dripping, arousal making you leak around his shaft and slickening his way. 

Sleep still rattles around in your brain, but not even the fog of sleep can shake the ever intensifying realisation that you’re fucking your boss. No two ways around it—breasts naked against his hirsute chest; pussy wet and stuffed to the hilt with a big dick. Knocked senseless by it. 

The veins of his cock drag over the viscid walls of your cunt with every thrust. He must like the involuntary noises you make because he loses his rhythm when you cry out, growling out a string of unintelligible curses. His body feels bigger like this somehow, biceps and forearms bulging where they’re wrapped around your waist, hips forcing your legs to spread wide around him, the ache sinking deep into your muscle, into your bones.  

When you look up at him, his eyes are more hooded than usual, the blue of his irises so dark that they’re almost black. 

“Such a good girl,” he grunts, big arms like steel bands around your waist, holding you tight to his chest so you have nowhere to run. “Jus’ let…jus’ let daddy come and—oh Christ, fuck, fuck…—jus’ lemme come and we’ll go back to bed, okay, sweetie?”

“I’m gonna…” you pant, trailing off when he gets a little rough, pumping harder up into you. The sound of your pussy squelching around his length makes your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open. 

“Yeah, yeah, you—you come too, baby. Jus’ need to take the edge off, both of us.”

You squeal when he reaches a hand down to dig his fingers into your butt cheek and it makes you tense up, walls tightening around his dick. One well-placed swat hard enough to make the flesh of your ass jiggle and you come, clenching up so tight that his next few thrusts are slowed by your spasming walls, forcing him to really cram his cock into your hole. 

“Christ, that’s cute,” John growls, his pupils blown out. 

It hurts to come that hard; makes your belly cramp up and everything. Whatever gibberish spills from your mouth gets lost in the aftermath. 

That’s when the temperature goes from hot to blistering. The muscles of his thighs tense, straining with his impending release. Even his grip around your waist gets tighter, his self-control steamrolled under his approaching climax, oblivious to the way you squeal and squirm when it threads the delicate needle of being too much. 

“Sorry, baby,” he apologises, voice treading gravel. “M’gonna mess your pussy up a bit—”

“Wait—wait—” you gasp, trying fruitlessly to lift yourself up, his arms keeping you pinned tight to his chest. “You’re gonna—John, you’re gonna come inside me—”

His hips thrust up hard at your words, one last rough pump that has him digging his heels into the mattress and clenching his jaw, the veins in his neck protruding. You feel it flood inside you, hot spurts of cum right up against your womb. He curses when he comes, eyelids sliding shut, lost in the sensation of emptying himself into you. 

A few last, punishing thrusts that make your teeth clack together. More heat spurting into you. A murmured oh fuck before his legs slide back down the bed, spreading out over the mattress. 

The blanket is somewhere at the foot of the bed, all scrunched up and nearly dangling off the edge. You only start to shiver when the sweat on your back finally begins to cool. 

When he pulls you off his cock, you whimper, a hot flash snaking through you. Oh Christ did he plug you up good. Stringy, viscous cum leaks from your hole, leaving a little puddle on his thigh when you slide off his chest and to the side a bit. 

“Oh baby,” he tuts softly, reaching between your legs to feel where you’re wet and a little swollen. “Sorry, sweetheart…wanna get cleaned up?”

“No…” you rasp, so dazed that you can’t even lift your cheek off his chest. 

Exhaustion has never ridden you this hard before, but considering the circumstances…—perhaps you’re lucky to be conscious at all, is all you mean. There’s not a chance of you having enough energy to do anything as rigorous as showering though. 

“Okay, baby. Little kiss?” John asks in a murmur, lifting your head up by your chin and swooping down for a kiss. Not even giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth is on yours. 

His lips glide slick against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth like he needs a good, deep kiss to ground him. A wet twisting of tongues; a thick finger stroking up your neck. He can’t stop touching you. Running a hand up your spine and curving it back down over your ass. Featherlight touches meant to calm you down. His kisses grow sticky, lingering; each one almost the last until he pulls you in for another. 

“Go back to sleep, okay?” John says, still speaking low enough to push you back under. He smooths his hand down your back again. 

You fall back asleep with a load in your belly and your head in a tizzy. The you of tomorrow is going to have a lot to contend with from the you of tonight.

[cumironi]

SAY HIII! TO THE CAMERA s. geto

☆ sum. stay quiet and keep him warm and hard, while he is playing video games, that’s the order. but it seems like too much hardness making you lose control of your body.

warning. non-sorcerer au, roommate geto, spank, cōck-drunk reader, petnames, dirty talk, overstim, praises, fem! reader, sugu gets annoyed when you can’t stay still, he’s annoyed because you make him lose, lol, tats-spank, háir-pulling, choking, bit exhibitionism.

there’s something deeply comforting about having geto suguru as your roommate, a kind of unspoken reassurance that no matter how life twists and turns, you have someone in your corner. he’s not just kind; he’s the kind of person who’s genuinely considerate, remembering the little things that most people overlook. his gentle humor fills even the quietest moments with warmth, and his manners, always so natural, make you feel valued and understood. he’s the type of person who holds open doors, who waits for you when you linger on your way home, and who genuinely listens when you speak, as if your words are the only ones that matter.

living together, you’ve come to depend on him in a way that feels both new and familiar. in the late hours of the night, when silence settles over the apartment, there are moments of connection that you’ve never found with anyone else. he's seen you in every state — the vulnerable, raw moments when you’re barely holding it together, the giddy highs when you’re spilling over with excitement, and even the quiet days when all you need is to be near someone without saying a word. every joy and every sorrow, he’s there, a constant presence, filling the empty spaces of your life.

over time, though, there’s another unspoken need that starts to creep in. it’s there in the lingering glances, the way your touches linger just a moment too long, the awareness that builds between you both, each brushing touch leaving a faint trace of longing. you’ve found yourself drawn to him, in a way that goes beyond friendship, a desire simmering under the surface that you don’t dare voice. it’s been a while since you’ve had anyone to share that kind of closeness with, and every time he’s near, you can feel that need building, that craving that he seems to sense. and that ‘desire’ you crave so much, geto is there with an open arms and. . . open legs.

it was one of those days a mix of emotions swirling, a growing desire that had been building in the space between you two, bubbling to the surface. without overthinking it, you found yourself outside geto’s room, feeling a thrill as you opened the door without knocking. you were wearing only your skirt and a simple bra, skin tingling under the weight of anticipation.

geto was at his computer, focused on whatever he had been doing, but as soon as he heard the door creak open, he turned, spinning his chair around slowly. his gaze swept over you, eyes darkening with a spark of something unmistakable as he took you in. he let out a low whistle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, clearly enjoying the view. “well,” he drawled, his voice a touch rougher, “looks like someone’s feeling bold today.”

his own appearance was casual but undeniably alluring. he wore only a pair of loose grey sweatpants, his toned chest bare, catching the soft light from the room. his long, dark hair fell loosely around his shoulders, framing his sharp features and giving him an almost untamed look that made your heart race faster. he watched you with a steady, appreciative gaze, that familiar, playful glint in his eyes turning to something deeper as his eyes traced over your form.

“you here for something, or just planning to drive me crazy?” he teased, his voice low, dripping with that lazy confidence he always wore so effortlessly. you felt your cheeks warm as you stepped into his room, but you didn’t waver, letting your gaze flicker over his chest, taking in the way his muscles shifted.

“i think you know exactly why i’m here,” you replied, keeping your voice light but letting the meaning behind your words settle between you. his smirk widened, and he straightened, reaching a hand out to you, his touch gentle but insistent as he pulled you closer.

his hand brushing your waist, guiding you to stand between his legs. his other hand came up to rest on your hip, fingers tracing small, lazy circles along your bare skin as he looked up at you.

god, the way he looked at you, with that sultry gaze sweeping over every inch of your body, made it nearly impossible to keep your composure. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare skin, each touch almost enough to send a shiver down your spine. the air between you two felt thick, electric, as if it held every unspoken thought, every lingering glance and desire that had built up over time. you could hear the faint hitch in his breath as you stepped closer, closing what little distance remained between you.

“is that right?” he murmured, voice low and rough, his tone thick with barely concealed amusement. “and what did i do to earn this little visit? not that i i’m complaining.” his fingers toyed with the edge of your skirt, tracing a slow line up your thigh that sent waves of warmth through you, each touch building a sweet tension that had you leaning in, craving more.

you couldn’t help but hum in response, letting your fingers glide over his bare shoulder blade, feeling the warmth of his skin, the solid strength beneath your touch. your other hand found its way to his hair, threading through the long, dark locks that framed his face so perfectly handsome, your fingers lingering as you gently pulled him closer.

“it’s not what you did,” you replied, your voice a low, teasing murmur, your lips close enough to brush against his ear. “it’s what you can do.” the words hung between you, dripping with anticipation, each syllable filled with a promise you knew he could hear.

geto chuckled, a warm, low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. he leaned into your touch, his hand sliding up under your skirt, fingers splaying against your skin, and you could feel the heat of his palm, the barely suppressed tension in the way he touched you.

“oh?” he drawled, tilting his head so his face was dangerously close to your bellybutton. his lips grazed the shell of your skin, his breath hot against your skin. “and what exactly is it that you need me to do, pretty girl?”

before you could answer, his hands found your waist, gently but insistently pulling you down to sit on his lap. his arm wrapped securely around your bare waist, the other hand still warm and steady on your thigh. you felt yourself sink into him, the heat of his skin against yours, the way he held you close with that effortless confidence.

you leaned in, lips close to his ear as you whispered, voice teasing but edged with a hint of urgency. “you know exactly what i want, suguru,” you murmured, your fingers tracing along his collarbone, feeling his breath hitch as you spoke. “stop pretending to be stupid.”

a lazy smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze darkening with satisfaction as he tightened his hold on you, his hand slipping higher on your thigh, tracing lazy circles that sent a spark of anticipation through you. “oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with restrained desire, “i’d never be that stupid.”

geto shifted his hips, the heat of your bodies pressed together, his hand sliding slowly to the curve of your hip. there was a raw, unabashed hunger in his eyes, his gaze traveling over every inch of your exposed skin, taking in every subtle shudder, every quickening breath.

he pulled you even closer, desperate, and you could feel the tension building between the bitten of you as his other hand slid further up your skirt, his knuckles brushing over your inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. his hand squeezed your thigh, fingers digging into your skin, an unspoken promise that sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

“if you want something,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough whisper, “all you have to do is ask.” then he leaned in, his lips trailing a warm path from your collarbone up to your shoulder, and you could feel the low rumble of his voice against your sensitive skin. he nipped at your ear, his voice a dark, lustful murmur. “beg me for it, sweetheart.”

his lips traveled back down to your neck, teeth scraping against your skin, and a small gasp escaped your lips as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. his lips curled into a satisfied smile against your flesh, and his hand slid even higher up your thigh, the heat of his touch searing through you.

“beg me,” he repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “beg me to give it to you… and i’ll give you everything you need.”

and he lies.

you sit on his lap as he games, his cock buried deep inside you, you trying to stifle moans as occasionally he thrusts up into you, barely— either too distracted by his stupid games or he just being his usual self, a fucking jerk and a tease. “such a gooood girl, baby,” he growls lowly into your ear, muting his microphone. after all, he didn’t want his teammates hearing what a good little toy you were being, taking his cock like you were.

how had things turned out like this, you wonder? you were the one that was supposed to be teasing him, not the other way around. now you were the one, stifling whimpers and moans, and almost begging him to fuck you.

“s-suguru, p-please..” you whimper.

he ignores you completely as he goes back to his game, turning his microphone back on, saying, “son of a bitch, you fuckers can’t do anything right, can you?” you wiggle your hips on top of him, trying to get him to pay attention to you more, and his hand comes to rest briefly on your thigh, squeezing it tightly. a warning to knock it off. but you continue doing it. you had to take things back under your control, and what better way than by wiggling your hips, feeling him brush up against your sensitive spot, and letting out a quiet whimper.

he mutes his microphone again, letting out a warning growl, and lowly says, “y/n.. stop moving and be a good girl for me, hm?” his voice is dangerous, a sign to dare you to move even just a beat. but youuu, you tilt your head back, peering back into his face, and smile innocently. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about, suguruuu. . .”

your back was facing him as you sat on his lap, elbows resting hard on his computer desk. only you cute pink skirt wrap loosely around your waist with no underwear. your bare nipples pressed against the hard surface. geto’s fingers dig into your thigh, holding you still as he continues playing his game, ignoring your attempts at seduction. his breathing grows heavier, the scent of his arousal filling the air between you. he’s clearly struggling to focus on the match with you writhing atop him like this.

“y/n... i swear if you keep this up, i’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck you senseless,” he warns through gritted teeth, voice menacing. despite the threat, there’s an unmistakable note of desire lacing his words.

“now be a good girl and sit still,” he warned, his hand reaches up to grab your hip, pulling you down harder onto his throbbing erection and continue to cockwarming him while he’s playing games with his friends— stupid gojo satoru. a choked gasp escapes your lips as he grinds up into you, stretching you deliciously around his girth.

his grip tightens on your hip, guiding your movements to grind yourself against him even more. he doesn’t care who hears anymore, his mind consumed with thoughts of claiming you right here and now. his game character takes a hit from an enemy player the moment you do a harsh slammed on his cock, causing him to curse loudly into his mic.

“fuck! ’m distracted,” he admits before cutting himself off mid-sentence, realizing just how loud he’d been. he quickly mutes his mic once more, though he makes no move to stop grinding you against him. “that’s what you wanted, isn’t it, y/n? for me to lose focus so i could finally give you what you've been craving.”

his hand slides up your spine from your hip, gripping your neck firmly enough to let you know he means business. “i’m not going to repeat myself y/n, stop fucking moving.” his other hand comes up to slap lightly against your ass after retreating from the keyboard, leaving a warm imprint on your skin before he pushes your chest further to his desk and continues to play his game. gasp!

geto’s dominant grip on your hips and neck sends shivers down your spine, your body responding instinctively to his commanding touch. the sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp and gasp, the sting mixing with the pleasure of having your bare bottom exposed to him.

despite his warnings, you can’t help but subtly rock your hips, seeking friction against his thick length still buried deep within you. your upper teeth sinking lowered on your lower lips, a subtle way to hide the desperate moaning. your breath hitches as he pushes you harder against the desk, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body beneath you.

as geto focuses back on his game, you find yourself leaning forward more— your nipples touching the cold surface making you shiver, bracing your hands on the edge of the desk under you. this position allows you to sink deeper onto his cock, your inner walls clenching reflexively around him.

with each subtle roll of your hips, geto lets out a low groan, his focus waverting from his game momentarily. he pulls you closer, forcing his cock deeper inside you until you feel every inch of him pressing against your most sensitive spots.

“fucking hell, y/n...” he curses under his breath, trying to maintain some semblance of control. but it’s clear that he’s losing the battle against both his own desires and yours, even against his own stupid games. he smacks your ass again, this time harder, leaving a bright red mark on your flesh.

“be still!” he demands, his voice laced with both frustration and lust. his fingers dig into your neck, applying pressure just shy of pain. the smack on your ass sends another jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching back against him instinctively. the mix of pain and pleasure leaves you panting, your pussy clamping down on his cock as if begging for more.

despite his command, you can’t seem to obey. instead, you press your breasts further into the desk, enjoying the sensation of your hardened nipples rubbing against the cool surface. each movement sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, intensifying the ache building between your legs.

“suguru... please,” you whisper, your voice barely above a whimper. the desperation in your tone is undeniably begging. geto’s grip on your neck tightens, his thumb brushing over your pulse point rhythmically as he fights against the urge to simply throw caution to the wind and claim you right then and there. instead, he focuses back on his game, cursing loudly when his character takes another hit.

“shit... y/n, shut up before i really lose my shit,” he growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust of his hips. his cock surges deeper inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids. his other hand losing the touch of his keyboard for a beat to sending a slaps down on your ass again, this time in slow deliberate strokes meant to draw out your pleasure. he’s punishing you for making him lose focus, but also rewarding you for being such a tease.

geto’s punishing thrusts send waves of ecstasy crashing over you, your nails digging into the desktop as you struggle to hold back cries of pleasure. the slow, deliberate slaps on your ass echo through the room, each impact sending tingles racing up your spine.

“ahh!” you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your pleas growing more desperate as the coil of tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. the combination of his thick cock stretching you open and the relentless stimulation to your sensitive ass has you teetering on the brink of climax. you can feel the telltale fluttering in your core, signaling your impending release.

geto’s jaw clenches as he battles to keep his composure, refusing to let go and indulge in the sweet release that beckons him. his fingers waltz down from your neck to the curve of your hip, tightening on the soft flesh, his grip bordering on bruising as he holds you in place, denying you the friction you crave.

“not yet, y/n... you don’t get to come until i say so,” he rasps, his voice strained with the effort of restraint. his hips buck upward sharply, burying himself to the hilt inside you for the countless times and grinding against your clit with a forceful thrust.

he repeats this motion several times, using your body for his own pleasure, before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with brutal intensity. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled moans and his guttural groans.

the rough treatment only fuels your desire, pushing you closer to the edge with each powerful thrust. your pussy clamps down on his cock, milking him for more as you ride the wave of pleasure he’s forcing upon you. the way you roll your hips like you are either desperately looking for the climax you’ve been craving for the past hours, trying to get revenge for keeping you waiting, or just simply trying to suck his soul— geto are fine either way.

“pleaseee. . . sugu’—’m gonna cum,” you stutter out, the words trailing off into a series of whimpers. your inner walls clench and flutter around his cock, pulsing with the intensity wanting of your release, “please, ’m sorry,” you cry. your body convulses, each tremor rippling through you as you cling desperately to the desk.

geto grunts, feeling your walls clamp around him, urging him towards his own climax. but he refuses to give in just yet, determined to make you pay for distracting him with your teasing. “not good enough... beg properly,” he commands, his voice a low growl. he slams into you again, driving his cock even deeper than before, stretching your inner walls to their limit— kissing your cervix each time. his hand moves from your hip to your dripping cunt, his fingers delving into your wetness, stroking at your swollen clit.

he keeps up this merciless pace, alternating between hard thrusts and swift withdrawals, driving you to the brink of madness. your pleas become more frantic, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. “please— let me cum, i need to...” you gasp out, your voice hitching on each word as you fight to maintain coherence.

each stroke of his fingers against your clit sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, amplifying the ache in your core. the combination of his thick cock pounding into you and his skilled fingers working your clit has you teetering on the precipice of obliviation.

“i’m sorry, i’m sooo sorry— pleasee...” you sob, your plea turning into a keening wail as you about to reach your pea only for geto to lift you up off his cock before slamming back into your pussy— playing with your climax and just generically being an asshole.

geto leans over you, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispers darkly, “not yet... not till you learn your lesson.” with each thrust, he aims to prove his dominance, showing no mercy as he punishes you for your disobedience. his fingers never relent from their torment of your clit, adding fuel to the fire that’s consuming you from within.

he reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly before pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. the sharp pinch sends an unexpected surge of pleasure coursing through you, making your back arch off the desk and the game long forgotten.

“beg better...” he taunts, knowing full well that he’s playing with fire. without saying a word to his friends, geto left his game to open his computer camera. he grab a fistful of your hair to pull your face away from the desk. a soft light illuminating your face. geto smile to his camera as he saw your fucked-face, ruined by your tears and your mascara.

he pulls you closer until your back touches his sweaty chest before snake his arm under your thighs and opens your legs wider to his camera. “say hi, to the camera y/n,” he whisper in your ear as he rest his chin on shoulder. your breath comes in short gasps, each thrust of his cock sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. the split pinch on your nipple only adds to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

you whimper, your voice choked with unshed tears. the sight of his hand gripping your hair tightly sends a shiver down your spine, reminding you who’s in control. with the way he pressing your back against his chest, knees straight glue to your chest, you can’t help but squirm on top of him. his heavy breathing in your ear, the warmth of his body against yours—it’s all too much.

“hi. . .” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible. the words are directed towards the camera, but they’re laced with desperation and pleading.

geto chuckles, dark and mocking, at your feeble attempt to address the camera, his amusement evident in the way he tightens his grip on your hair. he increases the tempo of his thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of your drenched cunt with ruthless efficiency— visible to the camera of his computer.

“that’s iiiit... look pretty while you’re getting fucked,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends chills down your spine. he watches you through the screen, purple eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as he observes your reactions. his free hand trails down your body, exploring every curve and crevice with possessive intent. he cups your breast, giving it a firm squeeze before smacking it hard enough to leave a red print on your skin.

“still think you can distract me?” he asks, his tone laced with challenge.

your body quivers under the onslaught of sensations, each thrust of his cock sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the rhythm of his thrusts. “n-no—can’t, i won’t,” you stammer out, your voice choked with emotion. the sting of his slap on your breast makes you flinch, but it also intensifies the heat coiling in your lower belly. despite the pain and humiliation, you find yourself pushed closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of orgasmic bliss.

geto smirks at your admission, pleased with the submission in your voice. he drives into you harder, relentlessly in his pursuit of your pleasure—and your punishment. “mmm, good girl... now cum for me,” he orders, his voice a seductive mix of command and promise. he lets go of your hair to grasp your throat, applying just enough pressure to ensure your attention remains focused on him and nothing else.

the hand that had been smacking your breasts now finds its way between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit while still keeping a firm hold on your throat. he watches intently, observing how your face contorts in pleasure, enjoying the sight of you succumbing to his will.

“let me hear it... let me hear how good it feels when i fuck you senseless,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument. “come on baby, i know you are dirty girl.” your entire being focuses on the sensation of his cock plunging into you, each thrust hitting spots inside you that send waves of pleasure crashing through your body. the pressure on your throat and the stimulation of your clit combine to push you closer to the edge.

a strangled moan escapes your lips, your voice breaking as you try to comply with his demand. “it- it feels so good— so fucking good...” you pant, your words punctuated by gasps and whimpers. your pussy clenches around his cock, desperate for release as you cling to the last threads of sanity.

geto grins at your words, satisfaction washing over him as he feels your pussy tightening around his throbbing member. he tightens his grip on your throat slightly, forcing a choked cry from your lips.

“that’s it... that’s my good girl,” he praises, his voice a deep rumble of approval. he quickens his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful and deliberate. the sound of your moans and the sight of your flushed face spur him on further. he wants to see you unravel, to witness the moment when pleasure overtakes reason. “cum for me... show me what a fucking mess i’ve made of you,” he grunts, his fingers rubbing furiously against your clit, eager to draw out your climax.

your body trembles on the brink of release, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive clit sends you spiraling into oblivion. you throw your head back to his shoulder, closing your eyes as you feel your toes curling and your legs shaking in the air. stars running around behind your eyelids and burst into fireworks.

a loud cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt clenching tightly around his cock as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body. your limbs feel weak, your mind foggy as you ride out the intensity of your climax.

“oh god, oh godddd...” you whimper, your body wracked with sobs as you struggle to regain control as geto watches you through his screen. geto relishes the feeling of your cum spasming around his cock, begging to milk him dry and sucking his cum out, and paint your velvet walls white. he lets out a low groan, his own climax building rapidly.

he continues to rub your clit mercilessly, determined to prolong your pleasure even as he approaches his own peak. his grip on your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to breathe raggedly. “look at you... crying and coming like a fucking whore,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. he gives one final, deep thrust, burying himself completely inside you as he releases his seed deep within your womb.

your body continues to convulse with aftershocks of pleasure, your cunt still clamping sporadically around his cock. the sensation of his hot cum filling you up pushes you over the edge once more, another wave of ecstasy washing over you. through tear-filled eyes, you gaze up at the screen, meeting geto’s intense purple stare. your mouth hangs open just a wee, panting heavily as you struggle to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.

“fuck, suguru,” you whimper, your voice hoarse from crying out during your orgasms. your arms fall limply to your sides, unable to support your weight any longer. you’re utterly spent, drained of all energy and willpower, finally. all you can do is sit there on his lap, impaled on his cock, as he fills you with his essence.

geto watches you intently, drinking in the sight of your ravaged expression and trembling form. he keeps his cock buried deep inside you, relishing the feeling of his cum slowly leaking out of your used hole.

he finally releases your throat, his hands moving to cup your breasts instead, squeezing them gently as if testing their weight. he strokes your nipples with his thumbs, teasing them back to hardness. “such a beautiful mess,” he whispers, his tone filled with pride and satisfaction. he reaches up to gently wipe away some of the tears trailing down your cheeks, his touch surprisingly tender given the rough sex you just endured.

once he’s satisfied with your appearance, he leans back in his chair, pulling you against his chest as he cradles you in his strong arms. he strokes your hair soothingly, humming a soft melody that seems to vibrate through his body and into yours.

“so beautiful,” he coos, his voice a warm caress against your ear, eyes meeting yours in the land of his screen. “shame we’re only roommate,” he smiling softly before kissing your forehead. your body molds against his, seeking comfort and reassurance after the intense session. struggling the way your body trembling, with the energy left you move to face him, nuzzle into his neck and curl up on his lap, breathing in his scent as you slowly come down from the high of your multiple orgasms.

you let out a soft sigh, your breath tickling his skin. despite the tenderness of the moment, you can’t help but feel a pang of sadness at his words. as much as you crave his touch and desire him intensely, you know that this is all it can ever be—a secret tryst between roommates.

“yeah, what a shame,” you murmur, your voice barely audible. you trail off, not daring to finish the thought aloud. you know it would be futile to hope for more, to dream of a future where suguru could be yours openly and without shame. geto holds you close, his arms encircling your waist possessively. he tilts your chin up with one finger, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

“don’t look so sad, kitten,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “we have this, don’t we? these moments, just you and me...” he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of you. when he finally pulls away, you’re both left panting softly.

“i know it’s not ideal,” he admits, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it? at least we can have this... this connection.” he smiles ruefully, a hint of melancholy in his eyes. “and who knows?”

you nod slowly, trying to convince yourself that yes, this is enough. it’s not ideal, but it’s something—something real and raw and incredibly satisfying. you capture his hand and press it against your cheek, holding it there as you gaze into his eyes. “yeah, whatever,” you agree softly.

you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before releasing his hand. you snuggle back into his embrace, feeling contented and oddly fulfilled. maybe this was all you needed after all—to share these stolen moments with geto, to experience the depth of emotion and physical intimacy that he alone could provide.

geto’s smile widens at your acceptance, relief washing over him with hummed followed along after. he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you flush against his muscular frame. “whatever indeed,” he chuckles, the vibrations of his laughter resonating through your body. he nuzzles your hair affectionately, inhaling your scent deeply.

“i’m glad we understand each other, kitten,” he says softly, his voice tinged with warmth. “now, how about we take a nap? i think we’ve earned it after that intense session.” he settles back in his chair, cradling you in his lap as he reclines comfortably. his cock, still semi-hard, presses against your ass, a constant reminder of your recent activities.

“just rest here with me,” he whispers, stroking your back soothingly. “let’s recharge our batteries for the next time.” geto grins, a devilish glint in his purple eyes. “what a sweet shit-talker,” you mutter, too tired or maybe too much of a coward to say it out loud.

the soft insult making the raven-haired man snort, “well, aren’t you a cynic?” his hand moves to stroke your hair, his touch gentle yet firm. “but hey, even the biggest cynics need a little sweetness now and then, right?” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “and besides, i’m just looking out for my favorite roommate.” he winks, his smirk playful yet dangerous.

you roll your eyes, attempting to put up a facade of indifference, but you can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “oh, so i’m your favorite, huh?” you retort weakly, leaning into his touch. “i must be so honored.”

he lets out another of those low laughs, the sound sending a shiver through you. “oh, you should be,” he says, his voice lilting with playful arrogance. “i don’t just let anyone sit on my lap, you know. you should count yourself lucky, sweetheart.”

you let yourself relax in his embrace, the warmth of his body surrounding you like a comforting blanket. his hands continue their soothing motions, roaming over your back and hair, lulling you into a state of blissful contentment. despite your exhaustion, a cheeky thought crosses your mind as you snuggle closer to him.

“favorite roommate, huh?” you tease, your voice low and sultry. “i thought i was your only roommate.”

geto chuckles once again, his chest rumbling against yours. “ah, semantics,” he replies, his voice a mix of amusement and feigned nonchalance. “details, details. my favorite… my only… same difference, really.” he pulls you even closer, his arms encircling you like a warm, muscular embrace. “besides,” he murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. “you're the only roommate i need.”

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his chest rumbling with his quiet chuckle, his voice laced with that familiar mix of amusement and teasing. his arms tightened around you, drawing you closer until there was hardly any space between you, his embrace both comforting and exhilarating.

as his lips found that sensitive spot on your neck, a soft sigh escaped you, and you leaned into his touch, letting your fingers trail gently along his shoulder. the way he held you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, everything felt like second nature, the kind of closeness that only he could bring.

snuggling closer, you let out a quiet laugh, your eyes half-closed as you nestled against him. “cheeky bastard,” you murmured, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you relaxed into his arms. his warmth enveloped you, and you closed your eyes, letting the moment wrap around you like a gentle haze.

his lips curved into a smirk against your skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your back. “damn right i am,” he replied, his voice low and amused. he shifted in his chair, his muscular arms flexing as he pulled you even closer. you were practically pressed flush against him now, the heat of his body seeping through your skin, a comforting and exciting presence.

geto hums, a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest. his fingers continue their gentle, soothing motions, tracing invisible patterns on your skin, as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. “but i prefer the term ‘charming, irresistible bastard,’ thank you very much,” he replies jokingly. “and besides, you like it when i’m cheeky.”

a laugh escapes you as his words sink in, a warm, playful sound that melts into the air around you. “i don’t know where you got that idea,” you reply, your voice light with mock indignation. “i never said i liked it when you’re cheeky.”

but even as you deny it, your arms find their way around his bare waist, pulling yourself closer, and you can feel his warmth seeping into you, steady and grounding. the rhythmic beat of his heart thumps under your ear, a soothing lull that makes the rest of the world feel like it’s melting away.

with a soft, relieved sigh, you let yourself relax into him, the tension slowly leaving your body as you settle in his embrace. it’s moments like this—his warmth, his quiet hum, the way his fingers trace gentle patterns on your back—that remind you of how safe and at home you feel with him.

geto's lips curve into a satisfied smirk as he feels you relax against him, as if he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you. his arms wrap even tighter around you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

“mmm,” he murmurs, the sound of a low vibration in his chest. “deny it all you want, sweetheart. but we both know you secretly find my cheeky behavior adorable,” he punctuates his words with a light nip at your neck, a teasing gesture that sends a shiver through you.

[97kuu]

Out of gas?

Summary; It was a setup between Taejoon and Jungkook to get him to hook up with you in the car. However, his guilty heart and physical desire revealed that he wanted more than what he was willing to confess that night..

Au; jungkookbestfriend! Friends to lovers!

Paring: Jungkook x reader!

WC; under 3k

Warnings; Smut, accidental f^ndling , random jump scare, car s^x, doggy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, light f^ngering, Almost caught, slight teasing, o^al (m), no condoms, creampies, Jungkook being thirsty, needy!jungkook, older Jungkook, acidental gr^^ping, passionate s^x, etc..

“Jungkook, it’s midnight..’ you whispered, eyes flicking to the time on his phone before scanning the view outside. The dark, foggy night pressed against the car windows, and a drizzle pattered on the glass. You both had been voted—unanimously, of course—to head out and grab pizza and snacks for the group. But now, here you were, driving slowly down the narrow forest road that connected the rented house to the nearest small-town market, headlights cutting through the thick fog as the car crept along.

“Should we call and say it’ll be an hour-” he paused, eyes squinting as he saw the smallest bit of light around the corner.

“Aha, so we’re near it. I recognized the light when we first came. Which means we’re about-“Jungkook pauses and out of nowhere a sudden movement burst from the left—a blur of fur and wide, the image of a deer’s silhouette flashed in the headlights.

Jungkook’s reaction was instant, a sharp intake of breath as his foot slammed the brake, tires screeching against the slick, uneven surface of the old road. The car lurched violently, wheels slipping as it swerved, fighting for traction on the rain-slicked asphalt.

In that split second, Jungkook’s arm shot out instinctively, pressing across your chest to brace you, a protective reflex as your bodies jolted forward. The vehicle shuddered, threatening to spin out, while the pounding rain roared louder, drowning out the racing hearts from the sudden but almost dangerous act.

“what? What?” You questioned, already on edge from there being little to no road light already. With his hand on your chest you realized wearing a bra would’ve been a bit better of a decision, if you knew a dear would just jump out like that.

Due to that, you could notice your nipples harden from the touch of his inked right forearm by hand. Embraced you looked away and hoped he didn't feel it, but deep down inside you both knew he did.

“A dear just jumped in front of us, that could've ended badly. I almost swerved us, you, into a tree.” He sighed, knowing his focus was off a bit.

Removing his foot on the gas, he felt for the window button and pushed down about an inch to get fresh air. The silence between the both of you was heavy, punctuated only by the rhythmic thud of rain and the soft hum of the engine as he recollected himself, only now remembering to remove his arm from your chest.

Hesitant, you look back at him and see from the little light offered from the headlights he was a bit distressed, and come to think of it since you both left he’s been a bit stressed and yet you couldn’t ask why. Yeah, the both of you are close and have a history but even now you couldn’t ask ‘Are you okay’ So with the silence between words you also relaxed with the windshield wipers filling the void.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered quietly, eyes not locking in with yours. “are you okay? You didn't hit your head on anything?” he questioned softly as he rolled the window up a bit.

“No, no I'm okay, your arm prevented that. So thanks” you reassured him, pushing on the light button between the both of you on the car's control panel.

You made sure to turn the back seat lights on and not the front to not flash the both of you. In doing so, Jungkook watched and crossed his legs a little bit more in fear of slander and disapproval. Then again it wasn’t like he didn’t want you to at least look at him hardening, it was a setup after all, all thanks to the member's naughty ideas.

It started when Jungkook was leaving after a vote of who would go, he was simply standing by the door of the rented place, shifted on his feet, while the teasing glances from Taehyung and Namjoon made it difficult to keep a straight face. The faint light above them illuminated the playful smirks tugging at their mouths, the rain-soaked night casting a shadowed veil over everything beyond. You were already inside the car, oblivious to the exchange happening outside between them three.

Namjoon leaned in closer, lowering his voice so only Jungkook could hear. “This is your moment. Don’t waste it.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, a knowing look that made Jungkook’s stomach twist in anticipation. Taehyung, arms folded casually, added with a cheeky grin, “There’s only half a mile of fuel, so if you want to fuck, that’s your best chance.”The bluntness of the remark sent a jolt through Jungkook, heat spreading across his face despite the cool mist of rain.

A crooked smirk broke across Jungkook’s lips, an attempt to mask the rush of desire that thrummed through him. “You two are unbelievable,”he muttered, his voice low but tinged with excitement. Namjoon gave a soft chuckle, stepping back with a pat on Jungkook’s shoulder, while Taehyung shot him one last suggestive glance before they both disappeared back inside.

Jungkook took a breath, trying to steady his racing pulse before turning and making his way to the car. He slipped inside, shutting the door with a quiet click. The soft patter of rain enveloped the space as he glanced over at you, eyes darkening with intent as anticipation crackled like electricity between you.

From then on all he could think about was how good you’d look as the moon covered your body. The way he would thrust upon you or your chest bouncing while he drove or the subtle suction from your lips on his tip as he drove. Just clouded with naughty imagery that worsened when he touched your chest, a movement that prevented you from any minor injuries or bruises he should be doing and not the car.

However the squish of your uncovered breast on him made him freeze, made him feel cray to think maybe you did want him. All because you typically never go out without one, your breasts are free and relaxed, and… he was trailing off mentally at the thought of wanting you until he released you were staring at his cock and he was drooling at the thought of your breast.

Jungkook could feel the weight of your gaze on him, a look that lingered longer than usual. His pulse quickened, and despite his best efforts to focus on the quiet hum of the night, his mind kept drifting to the way your eyes moved over him—slow, wondering, and curious.

There was something in the way you looked at him—something that pulled at him, making it harder to pretend everything was fine when his heart was pounding, his body betraying him. He knew that it was obvious and that connections could be made and he’d swear it was innocently done and not intentionally for his pleasure.

Not daring to speak he shifted again, knowing there was an awkward silence. The awkwardness hung for minutes at a time, but Jungkook couldn’t ignore the growing pressure inside him. Despite the discomfort, despite the way his nerves seemed to freeze him in place, his body still managed to betray him. Every subtle shift in his posture, every lingering glance from you, only intensified the craving he couldn’t shake. He tried to keep his mind focused, he tried to push the thoughts away, but it was just impossible.

There was something about the way you stood there under the car’s dim light, the silence between you both stretching just a little too long, that stirred something deep within him. It was awkward—undeniably so—but his body had its rhythm, its desires, and right now, they were begging to be satisfied. He shifted again, trying to will the discomfort away, but the tension only seemed to grow, and it became clear that no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the need for something more was undeniable.

“There’s no denying what you see, but it’s killing me. I can’t ignore it anymore. You’ve got me worked up, and I don’t know how much longer I can pretend that it’s not there.” His body was wired, every nerve alive with need, desperate for release. The ache inside him only grew stronger, a constant reminder that he was on the edge, craving the relief that only a touch could bring. His mind raced, and yet, nothing seemed to ease the pressure building within him. The frustration clawed at him, knowing that it was impossible to ignore, and the only thing that could silence the throbbing tension was the very person in front of him, you.

With a slide of your hand towards his inner thigh, he bit down on his lower lip in anticipation as the throb and lift of his cock spoke louder and clear than he could.

With a slight chuckle to yourself, you placed your thumb on the outlining of his sweatpants and rubbed the pleading tip in circles. He couldn’t focus on anything the moment you placed your thumb in him and with the light movement on his tip, he was truly feeling his heart drop to his tip in need.

Jungkook was holding back thoughts of pulling his cock out and placing your slightly smaller hands around, to truly get a good feel of how you made him fall in a quick desperation of need. He was holding it all back, taking one circle around the tip at a time as if being entranced.

Not asking to stop he shifted in his seat, unconsciously widening his legs, allowing more space between his thighs. The motion was deliberate, almost instinctual, as if his body was craving more room, more freedom. The fabric of his pants stretched slightly with the movement, the tension of the moment becoming more evident as his posture opened up. He wasn’t just making space physically; it was as though he was inviting something, shifting his stance to make himself more accessible, more vulnerable in that quiet, charged atmosphere.

Grabbing the hem of both his sweats and boxers he pulled them down to his knees exposing his aching, twitching, drooling member that throbbed for you in every way. He was vulnerable, he needed to show he was serious and stand firmly on the idea of you touching more of him. Even if it was with bold actions or words.

“Oh you’ll my cock, want it even,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “If not, you’ll love the feeling.” he continued, his attitude shifted. The change was almost immediately, when your hands wrapped around him, without asking, without hesitation. The action made his breath hitch, a smug smirk spreading across his face as he leaned back, knowing now that there was no turning back.

With a lick of your bottom lips, knowing that if there was any chance of this happening again it was zero and you wanted it as much as he did. You wanted his touch, his need his cock. Maybe it was a good idea to be braless, if you were truly disgusted or afraid why was your tongue now lapping in circles around his tip? Why were slight moans threatening their way out while you embraced him in your mouth? All the while your panties began to feel damp, slightly sticky from your ongoing aroused state.

Jungkook was average length, but thicker in circumference and curved a bit to the left. His tip is wider than the base. He was a good size, maybe a great size from just looks which made your teeth sink themselves into your bottom lip with desire. A desire, a desire to be filled up and fucked against the leather seats in his car. Oh, how the way he slowly drove you insane quickly should be studied.

The more you thought about how Devine his cock would be, your body became needy as if being free of restraints that you never knew you had with him until you began bobbing your head and using your dominant hand to fondle his cock. Even jungkook was surprised by how willingly you took him, how much focus you put on sucking his cock with utter grip while he put the car in park.

Groaning his heart was eased by the mutual feeling of lust, but curious about how far you’d both go. Lifting your head off his cock, he leaned down a bit to embrace you a lighthearted kiss, your mind not even having to think as you kissed toughly back in response.

Oh, you both loved it, bodies heating up and coming closer second by second as if being pulled by a now-known shared moment of hunger and urgency as you both pulled each other closer. The kiss was frantic, and deep, as if you were both trying to take in every inch of each other, the world around you fading away.

Your hands moved instinctively, tugging at his shirt, pulling it off with a sense of urgency, your breath mingling in the brief seconds you parted to take in air. His lips found their way back to yours in those fleeting moments, your bodies pressing against each other as if you couldn’t get close enough. The rhythm of your kiss grew more intense, matching the pounding aching desire between your thighs.

Pulling away, leaving you speechless he helped you take your shirt off and pull down your bottoms throwing it in the back seats with his own before lowering your seat’s back down and making his way across the car's middle section to be between you and your aching cunt.

“I have no condoms” he mentioned, helping you in a tight space to get on your knees, to then help press your chest on the passenger seat. Essentially kneeling doggy in a space limited of room.

“Pretend you do when you cum inside me” you teased, his hand swatting your ass causing a hiss of pain.

“Sure will” he teased back, hands gripping your waist as he began to grind his bare erected cock between your lips, coating the top with wetness as if asking slightly if he could go in. Without a verbal response, he could tell you agreed from the way you arched your back and pushed against him with need. And oh did that send him to the heavens and back in a movement.

“Fuck!” Jungkook, under his harsh breath cursed. Body enjoying the wetness of your pussy sliding on it.

Shortly after a few grunts and hard slaps on your ass, he teased the tip of his member around your entrance. Leaning over your back a bit, he stabilized his left hand on the side of your body before going to strum his thumb on your clit. With light circular motions on your bundle of nerves, his tip was merely sitting just around your entrance.

“There's more in store baby,” he whispered low, yet still audible to your ears. Right after saying that his motions stopped as he smooched your back and sat on his knees as much as he could in the shared passenger seat. Lining up, he slowly pressed himself in to see how he’d fit and if he’d be able to thrust himself in with no problem. With a deep groan, he thrusted himself in further feeling the tightness mixed with the warmth of your insides that felt nice and snug around him.

He felt good, he was excited and desperate to be inside. The small thrusts of his tip, soon turned into slow strokes that went from tip to base filling you up every time, feeling that stretch as your warm wet liquid dribbled around his aching cock. Resuming he placed both of his warm hands on your waist, his grip becoming tight, warm, and firm against your colder skin as he held you closer to his pelvis.

Picking up the pace, he could start to hear your moans muffled into the chair and he wanted more. He desired to fuck himself against your wet cunt with passion, need, and raging desire as an insatiable heat coursed through him. One driven by the singular desire to make you unravel beneath his touch

He felt like every fiber of his being pulsed with a need that was more than just want—it was a raw, consuming hunger to feel you respond, to watch your body react under his command. His heart pounded with anticipation, each thrust of his cock fueling the fire that pushed him to take control and make you surrender to the pleasure he craved to give.

Oh, he wanted it badly, he wanted you to surrender to the touch, to the thought of the very feeling of his cock buried deep inside of

your gripping, creaming pussy. Which was something he took great pride in getting even if it meant showcasing a shy, hungered, and needy side of him. You were his weakness, you were his desire and necessity and there was no going back after this. After years of a good friendship, this was going to change it and more for both of you with no thoughts against it from either of you and he was satisfied with that in mind.

“You’re mine now,” he growled, breath ragged as he pressed closer, each word laced with a rough, possessive tone. “And after tonight—” a low grunt escaped him, “there’s no going back. Not when you know how this feels.”

Your breath hitched, a shiver coursing down her spine as she met his intense gaze. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, voice trembling with anticipation. “Show me why I’ll never want to.’”

A controlled, deep warmth spread through him, fueling a commanding need that made his jaw tighten and his breath deepen. His pace slowed but became striking as he pounded harder. The feeling coursed through him like a slow burn, power, and pleasure entwined as he let out a low, pleased groan, curses flowed out like an ongoing river as he pounded and relished the hold he had on the moment.

“Come on, let go for me,” he urged, voice deep and rough with need. “I need to see you fall apart. I need to hear every sound.” His moans were loud and filled with need as he built up to his edge, slowly holding on to his orgasmic finish so that he could cum with you.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, voice low and commanding. “Let go for me. Indulge, and you’ll see how good it feels.” His eyes locked on yours, full of intensity, as his touch guided you closer. “Cum for me,” he urged, the need in his tone impossible to ignore, “show me everything.”

As his voice reached you, rough and commanding, it sent a shockwave through your body. The tension inside you snapped, and a powerful release took over, making you cry out as the sensation overwhelmed you. The intensity was enough to make your body tremble uncontrollably, and a sudden rush of wetness followed, leaving you breathless and shuddering as you surrendered to the peak he had driven you to.

He felt the tight coil in his core snap, a deep, guttural moan escaping as the rush overtook him. His body shuddered, muscles tensing, every nerve on fire as the wave of pleasure surged through him, overwhelming and unstoppable.

Each pulse left him breathless, eyes squeezed shut as he surrendered to the intensity of the moment. His voice dropped to a commanding tone as he thrust harder, “Cum baby, cum on my cock now! I want you to cum babygirl.”

The force of his thrusts pushed them both over the edge, and he felt her release, her body trembling beneath him as he rode out his own, his breaths ragged and deep. He continued thrusting, each movement a desperate need to finish and he was close. He was there and once that loud cry of “Jungkook” slipped your lips, he was gone.

His body trembled as the pressure built within him, each movement intensifying the feeling. The edge was near, and his breath came in shallow bursts, his grip tightening as he felt the overwhelming rush rising from deep inside. With one final push, the wave of pleasure crashed over him, his body shuddering as he released, a guttural sound escaping his lips lost in the sheer intensity of the moment. He was done, his body spent and trembling, feeling the warmth of her against him.

He was panting, he was sweaty, and hovered over your nude body in weakness almost wanting to crash into you. But no, he pulled out watching his fluid follow out behind him with a smirk. Shaking the last of his cum onto your legs, he shortly gained the strength to scoot back over to the driver's seat and lay back in it with a huge sigh of release.

Meanwhile, you plopped yourself on the chair ass faced out, and sat there in silence as you regained your consciousness and energy to move, coming down from your high as his seed dripped out and slid down your thighs. He was right, there was no next after him and you wanted that as much as he did. You were ready for whatever came next, that's something you didn't have to have sex again to decide. You did have feelings for him in the past and now, so why not go for it?

With that in thought you felt a cold wet press against your legs only for him to reassure its a wet wipe just to clean a bit before heading to get food and back where the both of you would shower soon. Well until he sat down and the blinking light of the gas along with the tank on zero.

“Shit we're out of gas,” he groaned in frustration, hitting his head on the window.

“Well, I guess we call for backup once we’re dressed. Speaking of do you think anyone you know saw us?” you questioned, voice weak and shaken up, mind still out of it as you handed them his clothes and grabbed your own.

“No, this road only leads towards the house. If it was anyone it’d be” Turning to the side he sees a car light in the distance and hears a honk. With quickness, you turn off the light and both of you jumble to put your clothes on as the car slowly drives closer.

“Run out of gas?” Tae hollers, out the window, as he pulls up. Rolling his windows down, jungkook yells back “Yeah” and then whispers to you “There’s a convenience store, take my wallet and we’ll split up so you can buy what you may need because-” he cut himself, shy but what he was gonna say next. Giggling you nodded and fixed your clothing as he got out to help Tae fill the gass up to full before continuing for what was tasked. Pizza, drinks and other things.

M.List

[y3sterdaysproblem]

let me love you - matthew sturniolo

summary: your boyfriend sucks, and matt may or may not be in love with you.

warnings: pure smut, cheating, oral f!receiving, fingering, hickeys, unprotected sex.

a/n: thanks for enjoying my ghostface au! this is kind of a slow burn it’s like 1.5k words before they get freaky. yall wanted best friend matt so here you go 😇 ALSO I started writing this prior to everyone talking about no nut november sooooo …. lmk if u want smut from me still or maybe some fluff or angst cuz I am a sluuuttt for angst

wc: 6.2k

-

“No!” You cry out, throwing your body backwards on the white couch you sat on, dramatically slamming the PS5 controller down next to you in defeat. “You guys teamed up on me and cheated! No fair.”

Laughter filled your ears around you, your friends and boyfriend finding your reaction hilarious.

You were at your best friend Matt’s house, along with his two brothers, your boyfriend, and a couple of other friends from high school. Nick had wanted to invite your guys’ old friend group over as it had been a while since you had all seen each other together, and so far you guys were having a blast. You’d ordered a pizza, watched a cringey movie that came out while you guys were in high school, and now were playing Mario Kart, which was never really your strong suit.

“Nobody ganged up on you, kid. You just suck,” Chris laughed from his spot next to you, bringing his phone up to take a picture of the big pout on your face.

“I hate this game,” you tell him, standing up from your spot between him and your boyfriend, getting up to go refill your red solo cup with soda. As you walk to the kitchen, you hear footsteps behind you, and you’ve been friends with everyone here long enough to know who’s creeping up behind you, so you turn around, pout still plastered on your face.

Matt laughs as soon as he makes eye contact with you, unable to hold it in. “Cmon, don’t be a sore loser,” he starts.

Your jaw drops at his comment in disbelief before you pick it up and giggle, dropping the facade. “I’m not being a sore loser,” you assure him with another laugh. “I’m thirsty and was also kind of wondering if there was any pizza left.”

Matt smiles at your change of attitude, happy you’re not actually upset with the outcome of the game, even though he would never mind trying to cheer you up. “I knew you’d want more, actually,” he moves around the table to open the fridge door. “Seemed like everyone was going crazy on the pizza so I grabbed a couple slices and put them aside for you.”

Your heart swells a bit as you walk around to join Matt by the fridge, smiling wide as he pulled out a tupperware container with a couple pieces of your favorite pizza. “Aww,” you drawl. “You know me so well, Matt. Thank you!” You take the container from him and set it on the counter before turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

He hugs you back with his arms around your waist for a moment before pulling away, patting your sides as he does so. “Of course, just heat it up real quick. I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” he smiles at you, turning and walking away.

You smile to yourself as you pop the tupperware into the microwave, listening to the hum of the machine while you twiddle your fingers and wait for it to heat up. As it beeps, you feel a presence sneak up behind you, hands wrapping around your waist.

You spin around with a small grin, looking up at your boyfriend looming over you. “Hi,” you say sweetly.

“Hey,” he responds, kissing your forehead. “More pizza?” His eyebrows furrow as he looks down at you.

“Yeah,” you respond, breaking free from his grasp to grab your pizza out of the microwave. “Matt put a few slices aside for me because I always eat more later.” You take a bite out of one of the slices, humming in satisfaction, looking up at your boyfriend with a small smile.

He looks down at you with a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, watching you eat. “Didn’t you have like four pieces earlier?” He questions, raising his eyebrows slightly.

You pause chewing for a moment, furrowing your eyebrows as you look at him. “Huh?” You say, slightly garbled by the food in your mouth. You take a moment and chew what’s in your mouth, swallowing thickly before setting down your bowl, placing both hands on your hips. “Are you questioning how much I’m eating or am I hearing things?”

He crosses his arms as the smile drops off of his face. “That’s not what I mean,” he starts. “I’m just… saying you had a few pieces earlier and you just heated up like four more pieces, that’s all.”

You guys have been friends for almost ten years now, however your relationship was relatively fresh, only about seven months in, and in those ten years that you’ve known each other, you’ve never been known to eat salads or small portions. You’ve always had a faster metabolism, and a more active life, so you weren’t particularly worried about indulging in a few extra pieces of pizza during a night with some of your closest friends.

You tilt your head and narrow your eyes, arms coming up to cross over your chest. “Is this something you’d be comfortable saying in front of all of our friends?”

He scoffs and shakes his head, turning to walk away. “Don’t make this something it’s not, babe. Just a question,” he says, heading back towards the couch where the rest of your friends are.

You’re still standing there with your arms crossed, watching him sit down next to Chris, picking up a controller while he laughs about something somebody said, completely switching up his attitude like he wasn’t just trying to patrol what you were eating and how much of it.

At that moment, Matt comes back, drying his hands on his grey sweatpants, making them a bit darker on the outsides of his thighs. “How’s the pizza?” He asks with a smile, before he notices your demeanor and the pizza resting on the counter instead of in your hands. “Everything okay?”

You turn your attention to your friend, looking at him with a confused expression while you try to decipher the interaction that just happened between you and your boyfriend. “Yeah,” you say, but it isn’t a confident answer, and you sound almost confused. “Come on, let’s go sit back down,” you tell him, grabbing your bowl of reheated pizza before starting to walk back to the couch, flopping down on it aggressively, making sure everyone knew you were back.

Matt follows happily, sitting down next to you. You turn and smile at him before slinging one of your legs over his, his hand habitually landing on your knee as you did so. You two had always been the closest in the friend group, but it was always platonic, as much as some of the people in the friend group wanted you guys to end up together.

Nick came and sat on your other side, smiling at the bowl in your hand, pointing at it happily. “Secret stash?” He asked.

You nod enthusiastically, swallowing the food that was in your mouth. “Matt saved me some because he knows how much I love to eat again a few hours later.” Your tone was slightly bratty, eyes flicking over to your boyfriend who stared at you and Matt. He was clearly mad at how close the two of you were sitting, and the hand placed gently on your knee.

Nick nodded. “Oh yeah, I think we all know how much you love leftovers. I wish I could eat as much as you and still look that good,” he teased. You laughed, knowing Nick had no idea the interaction that transpired in the kitchen a few minutes ago, and his timing was just coincidentally perfect.

The night played on as usual, games continuing to play on the tv, loud chatter filling the room as you all caught up on each others’ lives, talking about how adult life takes so much time to live and leaves so little for socializing.

Soon, people started leaving, and eventually it was just the triplets, your boyfriend and yourself, all sitting on the couch as the conversation started to die out, everyone starting to become tired.

Your boyfriend stands from the couch, stretching his arms above his head, shirt riding up slightly. “I think I’m gonna head out, I’m really tired,” he says. “You want a ride home, babe?” He looks down at you where you now laid on your side, head resting on a pillow by the arm of the couch.

You look up and shoot him a quick smile, shaking your head. “I’m gonna pass out here for the night, thanks though.” You tell him. It was typical for you to stay over at the triplets’ house when you got the chance. You’ve known them the longest and grown the closest with them out of the friend group.

“Oh, you can sleep in my room!” Chris smiles at you, reaching over to grab your ankle, shaking it lightly. “I’m gonna sleep in Nick’s room.”

You sit up and laugh at Chris, nodding your head lightly. “Okay, thanks, Chris. You’re the best.”

You and Chris had an almost sibling like relationship from the start, teasing and goofing off being an essential part of your bond. They were also a little bit younger, so he was like the little brother you never had.

Your boyfriend nods and walks over to you, leaning down to kiss you quickly before straightening back out, heading towards the door. “Bye guys, thanks for hosting,” he says towards the boys before leaving, door shutting behind him.

You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding, looking around at the three boys around you, all comfortably sitting on the couch on their phones. You smile to yourself a bit before pushing yourself up off of the couch, causing them to look up at you.

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” you say. “Thanks for letting me sleep in your bed, Chris.”

Chris smiles up at you and nods. “Goodnight,” he says.

“Night,” you respond, starting your walk through the kitchen to get to the stairs.

Matt gets up and trails behind you, and you don’t even question it, only turning around to look at him when you’ve made it to Chris’ room. “Here to tuck me in?” You tease.

Matt laughs and shrugs, walking to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at you as you raid the drawers to find a large t-shirt to change into for the night. “I mean I can tuck you in if you want, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay after earlier. I’m not really sure what happened but you weren’t right after that.”

You pull out an old, worn out red sox shirt and walk over to the bed, sitting down in the middle of it. You let out a sigh and stare down at your hands. “I’m okay, it’s just… you know how I was eating those last few pieces of pizza?”

Matt scoots closer to you and turns to face you, nodding his head as he did so. “Did he say something to you?” He asked curiously, head tilting a bit.

You take a deep breath and nod, letting the air out slowly and quietly while you think of what to say. “He just made a comment about how much I was eating and it kind of rubbed me the wrong way. Said I already ate a good amount earlier so I shouldn’t eat any more.”

Matt pulled his head back with a disgusted look on his face. “That’s weird. It’s no different from how you usually eat.” He said.

You just shrugged your shoulders and leaned back against the headboard. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I was so confused when he said it, it was just so out of left field. It’s not like I’ve gained weight since we’ve been together or anything either. I don’t know, Matt, he’s been weird lately. I’m not even sure if we should be together, but if we break up it’s going to make things weird between everybody and… I just don’t know.” You run your hands over your face and groan loudly, smacking your hands back down on your legs when you’re done.

Matt looks at you for a moment, trying to figure out what to say that might make things better, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he finds himself trying to dig deeper. “How is he being weird?” He inquires, sitting still in his spot in the middle of the bed.

You shake your head and look up at Matt, pursing your lips as you think. “He just… he’s not very physical with me, he barely takes me on dates and when he does, I have to ask him to take me out, his texts are so dry it hurts, and… not to be too tmi but… I’m just not very,” you blush and look down at your lap before finishing your sentence. “Satisfied.” Your voice fades off into almost a whisper.

Matt’s eyebrows raise, shocked that you confided in him about your sex life. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but normally he didn’t know the guys you were complaining about and you could joke about it more freely. “Like… you’re not finishing?” He asks, not sure how far you’d be willing to take this conversation.

You cover your face, embarrassed, but ultimately you make eye contact through your fingers and shake your head, silently answering the question. “I do things for him every time, but I feel like he’s just using me to get off and my pleasure isn’t important. He’s never even eaten me out, just like fingered me before sex but you can tell he’s just doing it because he thinks he should, not because he actually wants to, and I’ve been with guys who enjoy that kind of stuff so I know it’s not a universal thought that getting your girlfriend off is a chore. But he doesn’t even get me off! He just like… plays around down there and then fucks me for like two minutes!”

Matt laughs at your tone, nodding his head in agreement. “Two minutes is… crazy,” he cackles.

You laugh back at him, the mood lifted. “You’re telling me. I feel like I can literally count the seconds without losing track in the time it takes him to finish.”

Matt’s head falls back in laughter, but when he comes back to look at you, he raises an eyebrow at you. “He’s seriously never eaten you out?” He asks, shocked at the earlier statement.

“No,” you shake your head, lips falling in a tight line. “Crazy, right?”

He nods, taking a breath in like he was going to speak, but stopping himself before words could come out. He thought for a moment, not wanting to say anything to make the situation awkward. “I feel like I always eat a girl out and get her off at least once before we actually, y’know. Fuck.”

It’s been way too long, you think to yourself. Way too long since you’ve actually been pleasured by a man that left you satisfied and even craving more. With your boyfriend now it just felt like you should be having sex, but you never craved it.

“I wish that was the case but… it’s mostly just me blowing him and not getting anything in return, or we just have sex without any sort of foreplay,” you tell him. Your eyes bore into his and you swallow thickly. It’s not like you’ve never thought about what sex with Matt would be like. You guys have talked about your sexual encounters before, but mostly as a joke, in ways that didn’t make you guys want each other, at least that’s what you thought. But now, talking about how awful your sex life was and how attentive Matt was in bed, it made you feel even more deprived.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt had thought about sex with you more than he’d like to admit, but would never bring it up due to fear of rejection. He’s had a crush on you for a while now, but the thoughts of getting you naked and in his bed and consumed him recently. He was so turned on by even the smallest thing; the clothes you wore, your hair in a bun paired with your glasses, the smell of your perfume, everything made him want you even more. He felt like this conversation might be the only time he could make a move and actually have it make sense, but he didn’t know how to bring it up.

“You deserve better than that,” he starts nervously, right hand playing with the ring on his left pinky. “Have you talked to him about it?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah right. Doesn’t do anything. He says he doesn’t do that. Says it’s boring and he hates the taste. Like suck it up.”

Matt keeps eye contact with you, taking a deep breath before the words that will change your relationship no matter the outcome slip past his lips.

“I love it,” he says. “I love eating girls out, having them squirm underneath me, pull my hair… it might be my favorite part of sex.”

Your throat goes dry as Matt talks, the eye contact getting almost too intense for you. The air in the room has shifted, and it’s hard to ignore. You swallow thickly, looking down to his lips before flitting back up to his eyes.

“Listen, I.. I don’t want to make this awkward or make you uncomfortable and,” he scoots closer on the bed, reaching a hand up to trail over your thigh. “I know we’ve been friends for a really long time and this would change things forever, but I can’t even tell you how bad I want to make you feel good.”

You suck in a breath, goosebumps arising on your leg where his hand rested, thumb gently swiping back and forth. “Matt…” you look at him with raised eyebrows.

“I know, I know you’re with him,” he interrupts. “But I could make you feel so good. Please.”

Begging was your weakness, the desperate look in his eyes having you more hot and bothered than it should’ve. You were in a relationship for fuck’s sake, this was wrong on more levels than one.

Matt’s hand reaches out to push a strand of hair behind your ear before he rests his palm on your cheek, getting up on his knees to tower over you, looking down at you from his elevated position. He leans down, left hand resting behind you on the headboard, locking you both into place. His face is right in front of yours now, both of your lips merely inches away.

“Please,” he breaths out quietly.

You stare up into his eyes for a second.

Two…

Three…

“Fuck it,” you whisper, reaching up to grab the back of his head and pull him down the last few inches, slamming your lips together.

His tongue slides past your lips almost immediately, meeting yours fervently, his hand that rested on your cheek sliding down to rest on your waist, gripping gently like he was afraid you’d slip from his fingers.

Your hand slides up to thread through his hair, keeping pressure on the back of his head to keep him close. You moaned against his lips, both of you kissing more aggressively than you typically would due to the tension that’s been growing between the two of you for years, finally snapping.

“I need you so bad,” he mutters against your lips, sliding down to kiss your neck, tongue sliding against your skin as he left kisses down your collarbone. “Take your clothes off, please, I need to see you.”

You sit up from the headboard and oblige, pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sweat shorts and bra. He follows suit and takes his shirt off, throwing it to the ground before sliding down the bed so he can grab your ankles, yanking you down the bed roughly so you were laid flat on the mattress instead of sitting up.

You let a small squeal leave your lips, followed by a giggle. This is exactly what you needed, to be manhandled by a man that wanted nothing more but to please you, and you couldn’t be more excited for the night ahead of you.

Matt crawls back up the bed, looking at you like you’re his prey and he’s about to devour you. “You look so good,” he says quietly, voice deeper than usual. He’s hovering above you again just staring down at your face and admiring, like he can’t believe he’s finally getting what he’s waited so long for.

Your hands reach up to touch his shoulders, dragging your fingers up and down his arms that are braced on either side of you, holding his body up. You admire him for a few minutes yourself, just staring up at him as he looks at you, the silence not awkward at all, instead it’s comforting, and he feels like home.

Finally, he breaks the eye contact as he leans down to kiss you again and your arms come up to wrap around his neck. “Matt,” you mumble, his lips pressed firmly against yours. He hums in response, placing a final small kiss on your lips as he pulls away to hear what you have to say.

You’re nervous as you speak, but push the feelings aside as to come off more confident than you actually are.

“I need you,” you whisper, staring straight up into his bright blue eyes. “Please.”

Matt’s still for a moment before he leans his weight on his left hand, sliding his right one underneath your back that arches for him to have easier access, skillfully undoing the clasp on your bra. As soon as it’s undone, you use your own hands to peel the bra off of your arms, leaving you completely topless in front of him, nipples hardening at the cold rush of air on your chest.

He starts his descent down the bed, letting his lips trail down your body, over your collarbone, through the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, finally reaching your hipbones where he started to suck a mark into as he tucked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear, your naked body fully on display for Matt for the first time ever, but in the back of your mind, you hope it isn’t the last.

He pulls his lips away from the purple mark he sucked into your skin, admiring his work. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to mark you up, to claim you.” Matt looks up at your face to see you already staring down at him. “Need to taste you so bad.”

You nod your head lightly, giving him permission to finally do what he wanted, and what you needed so badly.

His head dips down to kiss your hip again, lips moving over your thighs, his hands pushing them farther apart to give him access to what he needed the most. His eyes stare down at your core, something that would usually make you insecure, but right now only made you feel even hornier, the thought of him soaking in the way that you looked down there turning you on more than anything so far. “Pretty?” You ask him bashfully.

Matt licks his lips in response, taking in a breath to calm himself. “Fucking perfect.” He drops his head and drags his tongue from your hole up to your clit, grabbing the wetness that dripped out of you and spreading it up, wrapping his lips around the nub that needed attention more than it ever has in your life.

You gasp and drop your head down to the pillow, hands instantly tangling in the sheets to ground yourself somehow. “Fuck, Matt,” you cry, arching your back off of the bed.

He uses his hands to keep your legs spread apart as he devours your pussy, the wet sounds coming from his mouth meeting your heat filling the room. You’re grinding up into his mouth and he lets you, wanting to allow you to do whatever felt the best to you, but you halt your motions when he pulls away and lets go of your left thigh, dragging his fingers up your leg until they meet your entrance, slipping two fingers into you, your pussy enthusiastically accepting them.

He brings his mouth to the inside of your thigh as he starts to finger you slowly, thumb rubbing against your clit as he does so, sucking another hickey into your soft skin. You’re a moaning mess as he plays with you, finally feeling something other than disappointment in bed for the first time in a long time.

After he’s satisfied with the mark he’s left on your skin, he moves his thumb away from your clit and trails back up to wrap his lips around it, sucking softly and letting his tongue run over the nub, fingers still working inside of you. The combination of both had you reeling, damn near seeing stars. Not only has it been forever since you’ve been eaten out, but it’s been even longer since you’ve been eaten out well.

“Matthew,” you breathe, exhaling loudly. You were trying to stay quieter, but you were quickly losing your inhibitions. The way he used his tongue on you, sucking on your clit alongside the fingers working their way inside you was making you dizzy, your stomach coiling in a familiar way. “Matt, please don’t stop,” you beg, reaching up to slide your fingers through his hair.

He listens, curling his fingers inside of you as his tongue traced shapes on your clit, the taste of you alone making him so hard it hurt.

You cried out and arched your back against the bed, fingers gripping the overgrown hair that adorned Matt’s head, moans growing louder than you were able to control. “Fuck!” You whined, thighs shaking as they tried to close around Matt, but he pulled his fingers out of you and used both hands to press your knees apart, keeping you exposed to him as he ate you through your orgasm, making you cry out even more, not used to the overstimulation.

He finally pulls away, kissing his way back up your torso until he’s hovering above your face, smiling down at you. “You okay?” He asks sweetly, using his left hand that isn’t covered in your arousal to brush your sweaty hair out of your face.

You pant as you look up at him, desperately trying to catch your breath. All you can do at the moment is nod, eyebrows furrowing together as you stare at him, almost innocently, and the look in your eyes makes his dick twitch in his pants.

He smirks down at you and reaches back down with his right hand, dragging his fingers over your clit again, making your legs twitch and try to close, a small whimper leaving your lips. “Sensitive,” you whine, but you still can’t help the moan that leaves your lips when he dips his fingers back inside you, pumping them slowly.

Your eyes flutter closed as your head rests in the pillow, back arching as you push your hips down to meet his fingers.

The mix of the pleasure and the immorality of the situation is ripping you apart, like an angel and a devil on your shoulder, but the devil was winning tonight and you weren’t even worried about the consequences.

“So good,” you whisper, finally able to respond. “But this is so wrong, Matt.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I know,” he says quietly against your skin. “Do you want me to stop?” He slides his fingers out of you and starts making circles on your clit, slowly but surely bringing you back towards the edge of an orgasm, but the tone of his voice makes you completely confident that he would stop if you told him to, that he’d cover you up and leave you here to sleep, never to bring up this incident again. Your best friend was way too sweet to you for your own good; unfortunately for him, and especially for your boyfriend, you weren’t quite as good of a person.

“No point in stopping now, not when you got me wanting you so bad,” you tell him, a smirk falling onto your lips. “I need you to fuck me.”

Matt’s breath hitches in his throat at your filthy words, unable to even process the fact that he’s in bed with you right now, let alone the way you’re speaking. He would’ve been completely happy just getting you off and making you feel good, so getting to fuck you really just felt like a bonus for him. “Anything for my favorite girl.”

Matt stands up off the bed and slips his sweats and boxers off, stepping out of them before taking a step back towards the bed, blushing at the expression on your face.

“Holy shit, Matt, I would’ve fucked you a long time ago if I knew you were packing straight heat,” you laugh, gawking at the size of his dick. Your boyfriend was nothing in comparison. You don’t think you’d ever be able to go back after this.

“Shut up,” Matt chuckles, climbing back onto the bed and fitting himself between your spread legs, sitting up on his knees and pulling your hips up to meet his, ass resting on the tops of his thighs. “You sure you want this?” He clarifies, making sure a final time. You guys have already crossed so many lines, but this seemed like the final one, the point of no return. But you’re happy where you’re at, and you let him know by nodding at him, confirming that you’re ready to say fuck it to the boundaries set by the standard rules of friendship.

Matt shakes his head and leans over your body, face hovering above yours. “I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, eyes boring into your own.

You smile and reach your hand up to cup his cheek, tilting your chin up slightly. “I’m ready,” you tell him sweetly. “Fuck me, please.”

He’s nervous, and you could tell, but he pushes it aside as he sits back up and grabs the base of his dick, using his hand to line up the tip with your entrance, slowly sliding himself in until he’s buried to the hilt, a small moan leaving both of your mouths. “Shit, Matt,” you whine, reaching out to grab any part of him, something to ground you in this situation. He sees your efforts and leans over you once more, the angle of him just sitting inside you brushing up against all the right places.

Your hand reaches out and grabs his bicep, eyes fluttering open to look at his face above you, his expression slightly distant as he focused on the reality that has been the subject of every wet dream for at least the last five years. “You okay?” You ask him, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“I should be asking you that,” he states. “I’m fine, just can’t believe I’m finally getting to do this. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You smile and wiggle your hips, pushing down into him. “Show me how long you’ve been waiting for this.”

Matt doesn’t hesitate when he hears those words, and he pulls his hips back just to snap back into you roughly, making you moan and throw your head back, your neck exposed for Matt to do whatever he wanted.

He keeps up a rough pace on you, grunts leaving his mouth every so often. “You feel so good,” he says lowly, leaning down to bury his head in your neck as he fucks into you relentlessly. His lips trail over your skin, until you feel his mouth open, a light suction on your neck sending you reeling.

You know he’s marking you up in places that are going to be visible now, and there’s no turning back from this, there’s no way you’ll be able to hide it without being obvious, but you just can’t find it in you to care.

“Fuck, Matt, you’re fucking me so good, don’t stop,” you cry out, hands reaching around his back, nails digging into his skin.

He listens, like the good boy he is, keeping up his pace on you. He sits up, though, your ass still planted on his thighs as he rocks his hips into you, his arms wrapping around your legs and holding you in place. “I’m not gonna last long like this, I’m so sorry,” he apologizes. He’s far too turned on to last as long as he normally does, too worked up and so enthusiastic about finally getting to fuck you after all these years.

“That’s okay, I’m so close,” you tell him, reaching down to start rubbing circles on your clit to push you farther towards the edge, wanting to finish with Matt, but he pushes your hand away, replacing it with his own, rubbing a quick back and forth motion on your clit in time with his thrusts. “I’ll take care of you,” he tells you, looking into your eyes. “I got you.”

Those words alone had you arching your back off the bed, gripping the sheets next to you as you came for the second time that night, legs shaking as you cried out, muttering out his name mixed in with obscenities. “Matt,” you whimper, breathing heavily as you came down.

He was still thrusting into you, slower and gentler now, but enough to still have you riled up despite the orgasm that just shook your body. “You’re doing so well for me,” he praised, sliding his slick covered hand over your thigh, rubbing the skin lovingly. “I’m so close, baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere you want,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’m all yours.”

The words send him over the edge, his thrusts getting sloppy as he finished inside of you, shooting his load deep into your pussy. “Fuck,” he moans, hips coming to a halt fully inside of you as he collects his breath.

You guys are both silent for a moment before you make eye contact and start giggling, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you did so, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Oh my god,” he speaks first, looking down as he pulls out of you, his seed spilling out slowly. He acts without thinking and reaches down, using his fingers to scoop it up and push it back inside of you, making you gasp.

“Matt,” you warn, and he snaps his head back up to look at you. “Sorry,” he says, a blush starting to cover his cheeks. “Just don’t wanna waste any.”

He pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets, grimacing slightly. “Definitely going to have to wash these tomorrow, but that’s a tomorrow issue.”

You smile and reach towards him, grabbing his arm to pull him back down to you, sliding your hand up his arm and towards his cheek before pulling him into a soft kiss. He kisses you back happily, his clean hand resting on your waist.

As you both kiss, he moves to lay next to you and slides his hand down your hip until it rests on your leg, pulling it over him so you guys are cuddling face to face.

Matt pulls away from the kiss and smiles over at you. “I guess this would be a bad time to tell you I’ve had feelings for you for a really long time?” He raises his eyebrows as he speaks, pressing his lips in a thin, awkward smile when he’s done.

You laugh and shake your head, brushing a long strand of hair out of his eyes. “I think it’s perfect timing.”

He smiles wide and leans in to kiss you once more, holding your body close to his own.

-

You guys must’ve ended up under the blankets at some point during the night, and thank god for that, because it couldn’t have been later than 9am when you hear the sound of the bedroom door opening and the song Pony by Ginuwine blaring through a speaker, ripping you out of a deep sleep.

Your eyes tear open and you stare at where the noise is coming from, feeling the hand wrapped around your waist tightening before you both sit up and stare at the door, seeing Chris in the doorway jokingly dancing and grinding as he held the speaker up in his hand, looking at both of you on the bed.

You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter, the sight of him breaking into the room like this making you crack up. “Chris!” You yell between giggles, making sure you’re holding up the blanket to cover your chest.

Nick comes up and stands behind Chris, shaking his head. “I told him not to,” he states, clearly unamused with his brother’s antics.

Chris giggles and turns the music down, staring at the two of you in bed, one of you laughing and one of you glaring back at him. “Hey, I’m happy you guys finally fucked, just really wish it wasn’t in my bed.”

Matt narrows his eyes and reaches underneath him, grabbing the pillow he was previously laying on and flinging it at his younger sibling. “Chris, get the fuck out!”

-

a/n: …..

u likeee??? I definitely like this one a little less than the last one but it was still fun to write 🤭 please leave feedback and send requests on what to do next

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[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past

Summary: It can't be a coincidence anymore.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,411 words

Warnings: ANGST, emotional turmoil, panic and panic attacks, anxiety, drugs used for drugging, very brief mention of predatory behavior, author can't write call of duty missions for shit, withholding the truth, hints at betrayal, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, very much leaning into that AU now, brief mention of guns and bullets

A/N: Ummm...yeah. You'll see. Bit shorter than normal but my obsessive need for cliffhangers prevents me from shoving it all into one chapter.

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Her head is spinning. There’s a steady throbbing behind her eyes, her blood pumping in her ears. Her shoulder aches from the cold tile floor under her. She can’t quite bring herself to move yet, the deep ache in her bones still lingering. She pushes through the haze in her mind, trying to bring up the memories of what happened. 

Someone had entered her office. She hadn’t even had time to turn around when she was hit from behind. That explains the throbbing in the back of her head. Likely concussed, though it hadn’t been a hard hit. Not hard enough to do serious damage, not even hard enough to make her see stars. Just enough to incapacitate her so she couldn’t fight back. There had been a sting of a needle in her neck. Whatever it was, it was fast acting, maybe a minute before she lost consciousness. 

Ketamine...maybe fentanyl. 

She pushes herself up to sit, blinking back the dizziness and the nausea. Whoever attacked her wanted her out of the way, incapacitated for long enough to do something. 

A horrifying thought flashes through her mind as she comes back to reality. She’s one of the few on base that knows you’re completely alone. She’s likely the only one who would care if you went missing. She tries to keep herself calm, tries to slow her breathing as she feels her pockets, pulling herself up onto her knees, gripping the side of her desk as she fights the nausea and pounding in her head that nearly blinds her. 

Her phone is gone. 

Her legs shake as she forces them under her, pulling herself up. She needs to get to the barracks, needs to check on you. She stumbles to the door, pushing it open as she tries to keep her breathing under control. You’re smart. You’re going to hide, or run, from any threat. You’ve learned your lesson from the last time. You won’t go easily again. 

The walk to the barracks feels like it takes forever as she half stumbles her way across the base, fighting the wind still whipping through the open areas between the buildings. Her head is throbbing, the haze of the drug still lingering. It’s the terror in her mind, the horrible thoughts of what might have happened keeping her moving forward. She only gets glances as she crosses to the 141’s barracks. None of them even think to ask her if she’s alright. 

There’s no help from the others. 

She pushes open the door to the barracks, blinking through the burning of the bright fluorescents. She feels for you, having to exist in such a bright, clinical space. 

Dread begins to fill her as she reaches your door, finding it open. The door jam is broken, the wood around the lock splintered. Your dresser had been pushed behind the door, but it hadn’t stopped whoever wanted to get in. The window is open, and she can only hope you crawled your way through to safety. She steps up to your desk, books and snacks in disarray, some having fallen to the floor. She swallows thickly as she stares down at the wood, her fingers shaking. 

Her phone is sitting on the desk. 

She picks it up, the screen flashing on. There’s a missed call from you. Whoever had broken in must have made it look like she was the one responsible. She goes through her contacts, finding your number before calling. She doesn’t have hope that you’ll answer, but she has to try for her own sanity. 

The phone doesn’t even ring before it goes to voicemail. 

She steps out of your door, going through every room she can in the barracks, shouting your name. She doesn't have hope, except maybe that you doubled back and barricaded yourself somewhere. It’s not likely you would answer to her anyway, if you thought she was the one behind all of this. 

She heads outside, trying to catch any lingering hint of your scent, but the wind has dispersed it completely. There’s soldiers milling around, likely on their afternoon breaks. She doesn't hesitate as she approaches them, asking every soldier she sees in the area if they’ve seen you. 

“I saw her.” One finally says. Allen, his patch reads. “Running towards the trees.” 

“Was anyone following her?” She asks. 

He shrugs. “Dunno. Didn’t stay long enough to see.” 

She feels the urge to punch him, to yell at him for not helping, but she knows they have strict orders to keep away from you. They might have not known any better, or wanted to risk a reprimanding if they disobeyed orders. 

She continues to take deep breaths as she glances towards the trees. It won’t do her much good to try to go looking by herself. You wouldn’t have followed the trail. You’re too smart for that. She’d need a whole army to search the base for you. 

Her hands shake as she searches through her contacts. She’s not expecting an answer. She’s probably busy with the 141 away on a mission. No one will know. No one will know until it’s too late. She’s not sure what to do. Would the commanders on base believe her? Would they organize a search based on her word alone? By then it might be too late. It might be too late now. 

“Laswell.” 

“Kate, Kate I can’t find her.” She gasps out, spinning around in the middle of the road, as if you might come popping out of thin air, or creeping out from behind a building. She’s panicking, speaking the words aloud feeling like an absolute truth, as if she’s speaking it into existence. 

“Who?” Kate asks, sounding confused. 

She chokes out your name, her hand pressed to her chest to try and calm the panic quickly rising in her. “She’s gone.” 

Kate takes a deep breath to keep her head clear and calm. It’s far too much of a coincidence to deny it now. The cameras, the sudden deployment, the call from Shepherd for the whole team, the discovery of the files. 

Now this. 

“Kate?” 

She’s never heard Christine so emotional, so uncomposed before. “I’m here.” She says, composing herself. One of them needs to be clear-headed and logical. “I’m going to contact command, alert base security. You look everywhere you think she might possibly be.”

“Yeah, okay.” Christine lets out a breath. “I can do that.” 

“I’ll call back as soon as I can.” She says. “If you find anything, I need to know immediately.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Kate knows she’s trying to calm herself, get her head on straight again. “Christine? We’ll find her. No matter what it takes.” 

“You don’t....you don’t think she’s...” She can’t manage to finish the sentence. 

“No.” Kate says, not even having to ask what she means. It’s not a lie, though. If the conspiracy that’s been brewing in her head is true, you’re more valuable to them alive. “If what I think is happening is actually happening, she has to be alive. She’s no use to anyone dead.” She says, speaking the thoughts aloud for the first time since the delivery of the cameras into her hands. 

“I hope you’re right.” 

Kate holds her phone in her hand, taking a breath. She’s not sure how it happened, how you managed to disappear out from under Christine’s watchful eye. Something must have happened that separated the two of you long enough for you to disappear. Christine wouldn’t just leave you like that unless it was something important, or if she sensed something wrong, something that might put you at risk. You wouldn’t have left the barracks on your own, not unless something forced the two of you apart. 

She should call them, make them aware. 

She can’t bring herself to. Not yet. She can’t distract them. The job comes first. She’s always hated those words in the context of the initiative. Why would they put an omega through this? What was the real reason? The idea of the initiative always left a bad taste in her mouth when she thought about it too much. She’ll know soon. She’ll get her answers as soon as her team finishes combing through those files. 

She won’t call them until they know for sure. Not until they’re positive, not until there’s proof. They’re not in a place they could easily leave, either.

Sometimes the greater good has to come first. 

Her hands are shaking as she dials the number for the base commander. They have an omega to find. 

Christine’s heart is pounding as she races around the base, checking everywhere she can think of. She’d gotten looks as she combed through the mess, wide eyed and nearly shaking with fear. Her scent must have been projecting, all the control she’d mastered slipping away. She’s never felt panic like this before, not even in the toughest situations with omegas. This is different though. You’re her only patient. She had been tasked with keeping watch over you, they had trusted her enough to take care of you in their absence again, even after everything had happened. 

Your mental state scared her. Seeing you like that wasn’t a surprise after everything you’ve gone through these last few weeks, but that doesn’t stop the worry, the concern as your doctor. Sure, whoever took you, if they took you, might want you alive...but can your mind keep itself alive for that long? 

She asks everyone she can in the mess, the kitchen staff and everyone sitting near the doors if they’ve seen you. 

No one. Not a single soul saw you. It was unlikely you’d run to the mess, but that would have been the logical move. Run where there’s a crowd, though if you thought they wouldn’t help you, you might have avoided it. 

She checks the med center next, combing every inch of it she can. She’s not sure you would have risked running there if you thought she was behind it. Did you see your assailant’s face? You must have, if they drugged you too. You wouldn’t go quietly, so they would have had to reveal themselves to you. 

You know it’s not her behind it. 

She tells herself that to make herself feel better. 

Would you think she was, even if evidence pointed to it? Would you think she would betray you like that? They would have taught you not to trust anyone, but why now? Why would she strike now when she’s been with you in your weakest moments over the last two weeks? There were plenty of times she could have done something, yet she hadn’t. She wouldn’t have. There was no amount of money in this world that would have convinced her to turn against you, betray you and your pack. 

She had been willing to fight tooth and nail to avoid sending those files to Shepherd if John hadn’t told her to do it. He trusted her. 

That trust will be broken now. 

She left you alone, and now you’re gone. 

Or dead. 

There would be no escaping their retribution. They’d hunt her down to the ends of the earth. Alex would never forgive her. Hell, he’d probably join them. 

She checks the gym, even though she doubts you’d run there of all places. She combs every corner she can, getting one of the soldiers to unlock the training rooms just in case, even though it was illogical to think you’d be able to get in with them locked. She can’t be too careful, though. Maybe they taught you how to pick locks. 

She even checks the pool, looking at every inch just to be sure. 

She’s not sure if it’s a relief she can’t find you compared to the alternative, or if it’s almost worse. At least if she found a body there would be closure. The panic could ease for a moment and she’d know. She’d be sure. 

She runs through the barracks once more, combing through every closet and toilet stall, but as expected there’s nothing there. Just your forced open door and the open window. Whatever happened, you did what you were supposed to. You called her and you ran. You learned your lesson, the lessons they’ve all taught you. You did your best, and that is enough, even if her darkest thoughts are true. 

You must have run for the trees. It’s the most logical place to run. There’s plenty of places to hide, lots of space to run and double back on your trail, to confuse whoever was following you until they gave up. 

Would they give up? Or was their motivations strong enough to keep them prowling, hunting every inch of the forest to look for you. 

What if they’re still out there looking for you? What if you’re still out there, afraid and alone. 

She hadn’t seen your phone in your room. She prays you grabbed it before you left. Maybe you’re out there trying to call Kate, trying to call anyone who might be able to help. She wishes you’d call her, but why would you if you think she’s still behind it? 

Whoever did this planned this out perfectly. 

It’s all premeditated. All of it. 

What if you’re out there distressing? 

She feels like vomiting, her stomach churning uncomfortably. You were already so worked up about your pack being gone, something like this might have sent you right over the edge. She curls her hands into fists, trying to stop them from shaking. She doesn’t know what to do. 

For the first time in a long time she doesn’t have a solution to a problem. 

She leans against the wall outside the barracks, taking deep breaths. She’s no good to anyone if she’s panicking. You need help. You’ll need her if they find you. She’ll be the only one that will be able to help you. She’s not even sure your pack knows yet. Could Kate tell them? It’s been weeks and there’s been no word. Kate hadn’t been able to give her anything as expected, only that she’d pass the word along once they had a moment. 

Had she been lying, or had they truly been off the grid completely? Has this deployment really been that serious? They had called in the whole pack. Or had that been premeditated too. Get you alone and wait for the perfect moment. It can’t be coincidence that they waited until you were distressed enough being separated from your pack for so long. 

None of it is a coincidence. 

Would Kate tell them this happened? Would she risk it now that your life is in danger?

Or is Kate in on this too? 

She shakes the thought from her head. She knows Kate. Kate had picked her specifically for this job. She spent weeks with Kate interviewing and being debriefed for this position. Kate wouldn’t do something like this, not with how close she is to John and the pack. They trust her and she knows them enough to pick an omega that fits in seamlessly with them. She wouldn’t betray them and you like this. 

Something is going on behind the scenes. Something has happened to cause all of this. It’s all related. It has to be. It’s all too convenient, all too orchestrated. It has to revolve around the cameras. There’s no other thing she can think of that might cause this series of events. 

Unless it goes even deeper than that. 

“Dr. Keller?” She looks up when she hears her name. 

“Yes?” She says, pushing herself to stand up straight as an officer approaches.  

“Lieutenant Colonel Woods, Base Commander.” The officer holds out his hand. 

She shakes it, her palms sweaty but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“We’re rounding up everyone who is still on base.” He says. It’s the weekend. A lot of them will have left. All the more easy to sneak you away. “We’ll search through every building and send out parties to comb through the forest.” 

She nods, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel. I’ve checked everywhere I can think of. There’s no sign of her.”

“If she’s still on base, we’ll find her.” He says, far more confident than she feels. 

If you’re still on base. The words make her want to vomit. 

“The front gate guards are compiling a list of everyone who has come on base and left base within the last two hours.” He continues. “If someone took her, we’ll know.” 

“I’m worried about her.” She says, the only thing that’s coming to her mind. It’s true. She’s never been quite so invested in the wellbeing of a patient as she has you, but then again, she’s never been this involved in the life of a patient before. “A lot of things could go wrong quickly.” 

“We’ve got a lot of boots on the ground out there looking.” He says. He’s trying to be comforting. She knows this, but that stiff military mindset keeps it from sounding more than cordial and practiced. What if they’re all in on it? “We’ll find her, or we’ll get answers to what happened.” 

The wait is the worst part. She’s going crazy, waiting for any word. Anything that might hint at what’s happening. There’s been nothing yet, no sign of you, but it’s hardly been twenty minutes. She can’t stop the spiraling thoughts. She can’t take her own advice, apply her own knowledge and teachings. Not right now. Not while she’s bordering on a crisis. She needs to find you. She needs to know you’re alright. 

Don’t let them find a body. 

She’ll never live with herself. She left you alone. She let this happen. She was supposed to be watching you, taking care of you, and now you’re gone under her watch. 

They’ll never trust her again. 

Her phone ringing nearly has her jumping out of her skin. She fumbles for it in her pocket, her fingers trembling. Please let it be you. She lets out a breath of disappointment before answering. 

“Kate?” Her voice shakes. 

“Any news?” Kate asks. She sounds disheveled herself. 

“Nothing.” She swallows thickly. “They’re still looking.” 

Kate sighs. “I don’t think she’s on base.” 

Hearing it nearly makes her legs give out. She’s known that’s likely the case since she called Kate the first time, but hearing it out loud solidifies that as a fact. She’s been keeping a fool’s hope that you managed to hide somewhere, that you got somewhere safe, even if she knows better. 

“This goes a lot deeper than we all thought. It was never about the cameras or the initiative.” Kate continues. 

“The reports, the prying.” She says. “It wasn’t about tracking progress for the sake of progress.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

“Sir.” A soldier approaches, saluting the Lieutenant Colonel. 

“We might have some news.” She says, putting her phone on speaker. She hopes it’s true. If they can get a name, then they’ll have an easier time finding you. 

“At ease.” Woods says. 

“We have the list of everyone who left base in the last two hours.” He says, handing over a tablet. “There’s only one.” 

“Colonel McKinney.” Woods says. 

“He left in his personal vehicle 50 minutes ago.” The guard says. 

“Give me every detail you can on that car.” Kate says. 

“It’s a blue Ford Fiesta, registration plate Papa Juliet 64, Hotel Tango November.” Woods says.

“I’ll get eyes on that car.” Kate says. 

“I’ll alert local police.” Woods says. 

“We will find her.” Kate says, and Christine knows she’s trying to reassure her. 

“Do they know?” She asks. 

“Not yet.” Kate says. “They’re not in a place where they can do anything about it, and the last thing they need is to get distracted.” 

“They're not going to like being kept in the dark on this for so long.” She says. 

“I know. But it’s for their own safety above all else.” 

And the greater good of the world, Christine knows, even if Kate doesn’t say it out loud. It’s always for the greater good. That’s why the job comes first, even if it’s at your detriment. She feels like screaming, like throwing her phone. 

It’s not fair. 

Her hands are still shaking as she ends the call with Kate, not feeling any more comforted than she had before. It’s possible Corporal McKinney was involved. It’s too coincidental that he left base within the time you went missing. Why would he take you, though? Was he involved in all of this too? She’s never heard you mention his name before, nor have you brought up any strange feelings about any of the soldiers on base. Omegas are good at reading others' energies. It’s a natural defense mechanism and with your pureblood status, it makes you all the more aware of things in your environment. 

Then again, you kept the cameras from all of them. What else have you been hiding? 

She pushes the thoughts away. Now is not the time for conspiracies she can’t get an answer to. They need to find you first and ensure you’re alright. That’s the most important thing. 

“Lieutenant Colonel!” A soldier says, approaching their makeshift headquarters. “We found something, sir.” 

“What did you find?” He says, standing up straight. 

“A bullet on the trail, sir.” He places the bullet in Woods’ hand. “About a quarter of a mile from the trailhead.” 

Christine feels like passing out. Her legs are wobbling, knees shaking as she stands there, staring at the bullet. She needs to sit down, she needs to breathe. 

Don’t let them find a body. Please don’t let them find a body. 

The tear that trails down her cheek is hot against her clammy skin. 

Kate sighs as she puts down the phone. She wants to put her head in her hands, scream, punch something, anything. She can’t, though, she’s doing double duty. She’s the only one she trusts to do both of these things. This pack is hers to watch over, hers to help, and that includes the entire pack. 

Not much can be done until Corporal McKinney and his car are found. There won’t be any leads until then, unless they come across something on base. She hates it, that she can’t do more. She knows if she tells John, they’ll abandon this mission and be on a flight home in a heartbeat. It won’t do anyone any good until they know more, until the 141 are in a safer position. 

She hates keeping it from them, but it’s for everyone’s safety. 

Especially if what she uncovered is true. 

She can hardly believe it herself. Her eyes keep flickering to the files her team had uncovered, the truth finally spilling out about everything. There is no initiative. There was never going to be an initiative. They were all pawns being placed for a move like this, for a situation that calls for such drastic measures. 

The last few hours have hardly felt real. 

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher 0-1 how copy?” John’s voice comes through the comms, almost startling her. 

She still has a job to do. 

“Loud and clear, Bravo 0-6.” She says, clearing her throat. 

“Kate, there’s nothing here.” 

Kate blinks at the screen, at the map that had been carefully laid out with exact points, confirmed visuals. “Come again?” She says, praying it was her overactive mind that misheard. 

“The warehouse is empty. There’s no sign of any missile having been here in the first place.” John says. 

What? Kate flips through files, scanning every bit of intel that had been given to her. 

They’re all pawns. 

There was no missile. There was no real intel. A red herring.

Separating the pack leaves members vulnerable. Take away the four and leave the omega alone and unprotected. Separate her from the one person left to keep watch over her, leave her vulnerable. 

It’s what they wanted all along. That was always the plan. 

“John, there’s...” She trails off as dots begin appearing on the map. She zooms in, her stomach dropping. “Four vehicles approaching your position.” 

“Friendly?” He asks, but she can hear the doubt in his voice. He knows they’re not. He’s done this enough times. 

“I don’t think they're meeting you for a picnic.” She says, trying to identify the vehicles. 

“We’ll dig in here. Keep them from getting in.” John says. 

“John...” Kate says. She should tell him. She needs to tell them before something goes wrong. If this was all a trap, then things will go wrong, yet she can’t bring herself to say it. Not yet. “Don’t come out of there in a body bag.” 

“Don’t give up hope on us yet.” He says before the line goes dead. 

Kate lets out a long breath, rubbing her eyes. It’s going to be a long next few hours. 

Your head is pounding. There’s a throbbing behind your eyes beating in time with your heart. It hurts, a quiet groan leaving your lips. The world is spinning and you haven’t even opened your eyes. Your entire body feels like it’s twisting and turning, your organs wringing themselves like a washcloth. You’re going to be sick, but you can’t even manage to lift your head. 

Everything feels heavy. Nothing is moving despite your brain telling it to. There’s a deep ache in your muscles and joints like you’ve been immobile for far too long and need to stretch. Your limbs try to move, yet nothing happens except a sharp pain in your left calf. You let out another groan, fingers curling at the sharp pain that radiates up through your leg to your hip. The throbbing behind your eyes intensifies as your head is moved, tilting up before falling backwards weakly.  

“Easy.” A voice coos at you, easing your head back straight. It flops to the side, none of your muscles coordinating like they should. “...know...dose...twice.” 

The words float in and out, muffled like you’re underwater and just barely bobbing above the surface. You do feel a bit like you’re underwater, trying to kick up to the surface of consciousness. Something is holding you under, keeping you from reaching that surface. 

There’s a hand on your face holding your head up as your muscles fight to activate enough to hold it up themselves. The hand is warm against your skin, rough and calloused. There’s two textures, skin and rough fabric against your face. Awareness begins to come back to you slowly, your mind clearing the fog the longer you’re awake. Your body hurts, muscles aching. You try to move your arms but you can't, something biting into the skin of your wrists as you turn them. 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” The voice says, calloused fingers brushing your arm. 

You flinch at the touch, muscles contracting painfully before they relax. You let out another groan, your brows pinching as you try to get your eyes to open. The haze hasn’t entirely lifted from your brain yet as you slowly become more aware of your surroundings. It’s cold where you are, goosebumps forming on your skin. It’s uncomfortable, your body too exposed. You want a sweatshirt, a blanket, something to keep the cold away. Something tickles in the back of your brain as you begin to pick up scents, several all at once, meshed together. It’s overwhelming, too much information flooding your brain all at once. 

The motion is automatic and instinctual as you turn your face to press into the hand on your cheek. You inhale deeply, trying to block out the overwhelming wave of senses, trying to get a sense of who it is in front of you, who is with you in the room. 

Woody. Soft wood. Cedar? It smells like a candle your mother used to burn. 

Sweet? Something sweet. Chocolate? Richer. Dark chocolate. 

Memories begin to float back as you inhale the scent. You know that scent. You’ve smelled it before. Your frown deepens as you hold your face there, nose pressed against the palm as your mind sluggishly digs through your hazy memory banks. You can’t even remember where you are or how you got there. 

“Good girl.” 

You know that voice. You’ve heard it before. Somewhere in the back of your mind it triggers something, some faded memory shoved deep into the depths of your memory bank. You dig for it, mining your sluggish brain as you try to figure out who it is, why it’s all so familiar. 

The other part of your brain focuses on your body, waking your muscles back up. With it comes the pain, the achiness: the throbbing in your calf, the pulsing behind your eyes, the ache in your muscles and joints. There’s a light somewhere in front of you, bright and shining through your eyelids. You don’t want to open them. It feels wrong, the bright light right in your face. You don’t like it. 

You pull your face away from the hand, your head drooping forward slightly as the muscles in your neck finally begin to engage. The scent is wrong. It’s not the right kind of wood. There’s no damp earth after a spring rain, no scent of petrichor. The touch isn’t right. It’s not soft enough, not warm enough. 

It’s not your alpha. 

The tingling in the back of your brain intensifies as you shoot into hyper-awareness from your sluggish state. Your instincts are awake, suddenly overwhelmed by the explosion of scents and sounds. There’s voices all around, quiet and hushed, but they might as well be yelling in your ears. There’s so many scents blending together until you can’t tell one from the other. 

Except the one in front of you. 

Cedar. Dark Chocolate. 

Memories crawl forward from the recesses of your mind. Childhood. Texas. Summer heat. The charcoal in the barbeque. Cedar and chocolate always too close. You hated it. You’ve always hated that smell.

Your eyes force themselves open, eyelids peeling up like a damp window that’s been closed for a decade. The window had been hard to open, yet you managed it with the adrenaline pumping through your body. 

Your heart rate picks up at the thought, some fear you can’t quite conceptualize yet in your half-aware state burning in the back of your mind. You breathe heavily as you fight to get your eyes open, blinking against the obtrusive light. Fluorescent, too bright to be comfortable. 

White walls, bright lights. Boots on the floor. 

Your pack. 

Where is your pack? Where is your alpha? 

Where are you?

Finally your eyes open, squinting against the bright light. You can’t see anything, the light directly in your eyes. It burns, tears gathering on your lids as you fight against the oppressive, blinding sun being directed at you. 

Voices float in the background and suddenly the light is turned away. You blink away the bright spots left in your vision, a couple tears falling uncontrollably. Rough fingers wipe them off your cheeks almost tenderly, but not tender enough.

Rough fingers across your skin, gripping you tightly, anchoring you. A soft voice floats through the air, rough yet comforting with the soft words calming the panic in you.

It’s not right. 

Nothing is right. 

You’re breathing heavily as you finally get your eyes fully open, the muscles in your neck contracting as you slowly lift your head. There’s someone kneeling in front of you, arm draped across their knee. They’re like a shadow, hidden mostly from view as you blink clarity into your eyes. Your brows pinch into a frown again as you blink, your gaze focusing on the face in front of you. 

You know that face. 

“There she is.” 

You know that voice. 

It’s been years since you heard it last. Memories slam into you in an onslaught, memories from your childhood, back when things were fine, things were normal, things were as they should be. 

Family. Texas. Alphas.

Cedar and chocolate. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, blinking in shock. Your brows furrow in confusion, your still foggy brain trying to piece everything together. 

You know him. 

It’s been years but you’ll never forget. 

The light brown hair, bright blue eyes, dimples indenting with that too-friendly grin. 

Your mouth is dry, your tongue heavy as it opens, forming the name on your lips. The name. It comes out in a croak, barely audible and understandable, but laced with confusion and disbelief. 

“Phil?” 

NEXT ->

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[rafecameronssl4t]

Omg god can you please do a forced marriage au. Where reader is being weirdly clingy(Ik it doesn’t really fit her vibe) and rafe’s weirded out. And she kisses him unexpectedly and he’s so confused.

Drunk kisses || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: fluffy fic which ik all of you have been wanting in this au so u are welcome ;)

Warnings: none really just fluff

Word count: 2,380

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

Rafe barely glanced up from his laptop when the front doorbell rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet of the house, but he quickly resumed typing, thinking nothing of it at first. It rang again, more insistently this time, drawing his attention. He frowned, closing his laptop and glancing toward the hallway.

"Anita?" he called out, expecting the familiar shuffle of the housekeeper’s footsteps. But silence greeted him in return. He checked his watch—it was past midnight. Of course, everyone had gone home by now.

With a frustrated sigh, Rafe stood and headed toward the foyer, the steady ringing making him wonder who could possibly be at their door at such an ungodly hour. He glanced at the small display screen by the entrance, his brow furrowing at the sight of you. You were slumped against your sister, who looked like she was struggling to hold you upright. Rafe’s confusion deepened as he swung open the door.

Before he could say anything, you staggered forward, collapsing right into his arms. Charlotte let out a startled gasp, covering her mouth in shock as Rafe instinctively caught you, his hands gripping your waist to steady you. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath, trying to process what was happening. You looked up at him with a lazy, drunken smile, the scent of alcohol heavy on your breath.

The sight of you—usually so composed and poised—now giggling like a carefree girl was jarring. “Oh, look, Lottie! It’s my husband. My gorgeous husb—” you slurred, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you tried to blow a strand of hair away from your face. But before you could finish, Rafe cut you off, his annoyance already simmering beneath the surface.

"How much did you let her drink?" he snapped, turning his icy blue gaze toward Charlotte. There was disbelief in his voice, a hint of something protective and yet frustrated. You had been out of control before, but never like this. “I—I tried,” Charlotte stammered, her face flushed with guilt. “I gave her something else—”

“What? More alcohol?” Rafe’s tone was sharp, and Charlotte flinched under his harsh words. He couldn’t believe it. You were usually guarded, careful—this wasn’t like you at all. Rafe glanced down at you again, a mixture of irritation and concern flashing across his face as you leaned further into him, still smiling like the world was spinning too slowly for you.

"We're supposed to have breakfast with your parents tomorrow," he muttered, more to himself than to you. His jaw clenched, the thought of having to face them with you like this filling him with dread. As much as he loathed the idea of those formal meals, they mattered in your world—the perfect image you were both supposed to maintain.

Rafe struggled to keep you upright, your legs barely cooperating as you leaned heavily against him, still giggling softly. His frustration flared again, and he shot a sharp glance at Charlotte, who stood frozen in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. “How the hell did this even happen?” he demanded, his voice low but dangerous.

Charlotte hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “She… she just kept ordering more drinks. I tried to stop her, I swear, but she insisted. And, well, you know how stubborn she can get.” Rafe let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, I know." He looked down at you as you murmured something incoherent, your fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.

"And you didn’t think to call me? Or at least cut her off?” “I—” Charlotte started but quickly swallowed her words when Rafe’s icy gaze met hers again. "I thought she'd sober up. I didn’t want to make a scene… and she kept saying she was fine." "Clearly, she’s not fine," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp as he adjusted his grip on you, trying to stop you from slipping further down his side.

“You should’ve stopped her. God, Charlotte, you know we have that damn breakfast tomorrow.” Charlotte’s eyes widened as if realising the gravity of the situation all over again. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I really didn’t mean for it to get this out of hand…” Rafe clenched his jaw, his patience thinning with each passing second. “Well, it did. And now I have to deal with this.” He shook his head, his grip tightening slightly on your waist as he hoisted you up a little higher.

“Mmm… Rafe," you mumbled softly, your head lolling against his chest. “You're always so serious.” Your words slurred together, and you let out another soft laugh, as if this entire situation was some kind of joke. Rafe's brow furrowed, his annoyance tempered for a moment by the sight of you so completely out of character. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—carefree, uninhibited, and honestly, it unnerved him.

“You should go home, Charlotte,” Rafe finally said, his voice quieter now but still holding that authoritative edge. “I’ll take care of her.” Your sister looked hesitant, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. "Are you sure? I can help—" "No, just go. You've done enough." His tone left no room for argument, and Charlotte sighed in defeat, giving him a small nod before stepping back toward the door.

“I really am sorry,” she murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She cast one last glance at you, who was now resting your head against Rafe’s chest, your arms loosely draped around his neck. Rafe didn’t respond, his attention now fully on you as Charlotte finally made her exit.

The front door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving the two of you alone in the dimly lit foyer. You stirred in his arms, blinking up at him with bleary eyes, the remnants of your smile still lingering. “You always look so serious, Rafe,” you whispered, your words thick with exhaustion. “Why can’t you just… relax?” Rafe sighed deeply, his frustration mixing with an odd sense of helplessness.

He wasn’t used to feeling like this—torn between annoyance and something else he couldn’t quite place. "Because someone has to be," he muttered, more to himself than to you. You giggled again, leaning your forehead against his chest. “Maybe I should be serious too, then. Like you. So we can both be… boring together.” You laughed softly at your own words, your fingers tracing absentminded circles on his chest.

Rafe’s lips twitched again, the ghost of a smile threatening to break through his usually stoic expression. You were a mess, slurring your words and giggling like a child, but in the soft, dim glow of the foyer, you looked undeniably beautiful. Strands of hair framed your face in a way that made you seem even more delicate, your skin glowing faintly under the soft lighting.

For a fleeting moment, he found himself captivated by how vulnerable and unguarded you appeared—so different from the strong-willed woman he was used to. But he quickly shook the thought away, forcing himself to stay focused. This was not the time to get caught up in sentiment. “You’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice firmer this time, though still touched with that same gentleness that had snuck in earlier.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed before you say something else you’ll regret.” His eyes lingered on your face, watching as your expression shifted from amusement to a peaceful kind of daze. The way you leaned further into him, trusting him completely in your intoxicated state, stirred something unexpected within him—an unfamiliar blend of protectiveness and tenderness.

It unsettled him, but he pushed it aside, convincing himself it was just the responsibility of the moment. You hummed softly, your eyes fluttering closed, a contented sigh slipping past your lips. “Mmm… my gorgeous husband, taking care of me,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper but carrying a playful edge that made Rafe’s heart beat a little faster.

Even drunk, you were still testing him, still finding a way to get under his skin. He rolled his eyes, though there was no real malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m your gorgeous husband,” he muttered, half-exasperated, half-amused as he tightened his grip on you, making sure you were secure in his arms. “Let’s just focus on getting you upstairs in one piece.”

You chuckled softly, your head resting more comfortably against his chest, your breath warm against the fabric of his shirt. “Always so serious…” you mumbled, your voice trailing off as sleep began to claim you. Rafe glanced down at you again, shaking his head slightly. Even in this state, you still managed to get to him. He started moving toward the stairs, his steps careful as he balanced your weight against his own.

Rafe opened the door to your shared room, his movements steady as he guided you into the closet. “Here, you should get changed into something more comfortable,” he murmured, opening a drawer and pulling out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized one you often stole when you didn’t want to bother with your own clothes. He handed it to you, watching as your tired gaze shifted toward the shirt before flickering back to him.

“Can… can you help me take my dress off?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice tinged with exhaustion and the alcohol that still clouded your thoughts. You gave him those wide, pleading doe eyes that always managed to catch him off guard. Rafe inhaled sharply but quickly nodded. He’d seen you like this before—unguarded, your skin bare, but it never failed to stir something in him.

It wasn’t the sight of your skin that unsettled him; he was used to that. Over time, in this strange forced marriage, he’d grown accustomed to the intimacy of shared space, of your body in close proximity. It was the trust you displayed, the way you asked for his help now, that threw him off balance. You turned around, shifting your hair to one side, exposing the zipper of your dress.

Rafe reached for it, fingers grazing your back as he slowly pulled the zipper down, the fabric sliding easily off your shoulders. His eyes briefly flickered to the dress, a slight frown on his face—it was shorter than he liked, something he wasn’t thrilled about you wearing out. But now, as you stepped out of it, all he could think about was how fragile you looked.

You grabbed the shirt from his hands and pulled it over your head, the soft cotton falling past your thighs as you kicked off your heels with a relieved sigh. Rafe watched you for a moment longer before quietly guiding you toward the bathroom. He rummaged through the drawer, pulling out your toothbrush and squeezing toothpaste onto it before handing it to you. You brushed your teeth lazily, your movements growing slower as your eyelids drooped, exhaustion settling in.

Rafe stood by, waiting until you were done before helping you back to the bed. Just as your body sank into the soft sheets, ready to drift off into sleep, he lightly patted your cheek, keeping you from completely fading. "Uh-uh, gotta get that makeup off, or you'll throw a fit tomorrow morning," Rafe teased, reaching for the wipes on your vanity. You groaned in protest, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I won’t.”

“Yes, you will,” Rafe retorted, walking back over and sitting on the edge of the bed. He began gently wiping the makeup from your face, his touch careful and methodical. He had done this before, knew the routine, and though the task was mundane, there was an unspoken closeness in these moments that neither of you ever acknowledged.

He returned to the bed, sitting beside you as he carefully wiped away the layers of makeup. His touch was gentle, more considerate than you expected, his brow furrowed in concentration as he made sure to remove every trace. You gazed up at him through heavy lids, feeling the warmth of his hand against your skin and the softness of his gestures.

When he was done, he moved to pull away, but your fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him. Rafe looked at you, confusion briefly crossing his face, but the intensity in your gaze softened him. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice tender, vulnerable in a way it rarely was. Your eyes drifted to his lips, your heart picking up speed as the moment stretched between you.

Rafe swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he nodded, his voice hushed. “Of course.” Without another word, you gently pulled him closer, closing the space between you. Your lips met his in a slow, tentative kiss—an action that felt more like a quiet confession than anything else. Rafe stiffened at first, but then his lips moved against yours, soft yet firm, as though the weight of the night had brought you both to this point.

But he pulled back after a moment, his eyes searching yours for something he wasn’t even sure of. “Get some sleep,” he whispered, pulling the sheets up to tuck you in. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a second longer than usual before he stood, leaving the room without another glance.

—

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains as you slowly lifted your head from the pillow, a dull throb of pain radiating through your temples. You winced, squinting against the brightness as the events of the previous night came flooding back—Charlotte, the drinks, Rafe helping you to bed, and… the kiss.

You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets move beside you. Glancing over, you saw Rafe’s sleeping form, his features relaxed. He lay facing you, still half-asleep, though he must have sensed your movement because he mumbled groggily, “On your bedside table.”

You turned, spotting the glass of water and the medicine waiting for you. A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pounding in your head. Even when his words were rough, his actions showed a softness you were beginning to see more often.

You reached for the water and pills, the gesture not lost on you. As you downed the water, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, wondering if, beneath all the tension and complications between you, something deeper had started to bloom.

[rainynightmoonlight]

If only I could hold you through a screen

Characters: Venti, Zhongli, Xiao, Ei, Yae Miko, Nahida, Wanderer, Furina, Neuvillette

Summary: Self Aware Archons and their companions react to you crying as you stare at them in the character screen, they try to comfort you but all they hear you say is "I wish you were here with me."

Warnings: Reader is crying, possessive behavior, immense anger, violent thoughts

A/U: Self aware genshin AU

A/n: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD GUYS!!! This is platonic on Nahida's end

VENTI

He was devastated as you gently sobbed, staring at his character in the character menu. He only wished to play you a song to ease the pain you were feeling. Who or what could make a God, no, the creator cry? He was more upset the more he thought of the possibilities of what made you break down.

“I-I…wish you…were with me.” 

As those words spilled out of your mouth, all choked out with sobs following each word, Venti could feel a tear roll down his face. Venti pulled out his lyre, doing one of his idle animations in hopes of cheering you up. On his side, he was playing you the most relaxing tune in all of Tevat! 

But it was blocked by the code. You could distantly hear it, however, if you listened close enough. You drift off as you focus on the secret melody, leaving Venti with a solemn smile. Seeing your peaceful sleeping face brought the Anemo Archon a sense of calm. 

As your screen dimmed due to inactivity, the more he wished to hug and comfort you. He couldn’t wish for anything more than to wipe your tears away and comfort you. He gently slowed the tune as your screen turned off. There was only one thought he had, and whispered out to comfort himself.

“One day, no tears will be shed when I’m with you, my dear god.”

ZHONGLI

He didn’t understand when you just started sobbing when you stared at him in the character menu. He started to panic the more you cried staring at him. Something in him broke the longer he heard you cry. He thought he had did something wrong to hurt you, but that suspicion was broken when you spoke through broken sobs. 

“I wish you were with me…”

That’s when his heart shattered. He started to mumble to himself, a mix of comforting words directed at you and words comforting himself. The more you focused on him, the more you could hear him speak outside his code. Out of anger, he did his idle with his little rock spinning around him. 

He wished it hit whoever, or whatever, had hurt you. Seeing you cry brought this strong protectiveness over you. Seeing you this fragile was new to him, and the fact that the creator could be sad slightly scared him. He wished for nothing more than to be there to comfort you.

Due to the exhaustion of crying, you started to fall asleep. The more your screened dimmed more and more as you dozed off to sleep, Zhongli could only imagine one thing in his mind. He mumbled it out loud, and you smiled as you could faintly hear it.

“I will protect you soon, there will be no need for you to feel any more tears roll down your pretty cheeks.”

XIAO

The fact that such a higher being such as yourself could cry surprised him. And him not being able to handle human like emotions didn’t help either. He only stared in disbelief and guilt as he couldn’t be there for you. He’s asked those around him what he should do when someone close to him cries, but never thought he needed to try the advice he was given with you. 

Your broken sobs did so much to his already aching heart. And hearing you scream into a nearby cushion made him even more angry. He wanted to purge whatever or whoever did this to you. You stared at his character, he was doing his mask idle due to his increasing anger and sadness watching you, which had only increased as you mumbled to him in broken sobs.  

“I w-wish y-you were h-here with me.”

His anger only increased, he tried so hard to keep his adeptal energy under control. Nothing could stop his racing mind and what could have happened to you out of playing the game. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Seeing you in this much pain, straining to talk as you sobbed into a cushion, didn’t help his urges. 

He calmed down as he saw your sleeping face. You dozed off, and his eyes were stuck on your resting eyes. A wave of peace had cleared his angry head, his fists now relaxing. As your screen dimmed, his voice was faint and soft.

“Nothing will make you cry ever again when I’m around, I swear it.”

EI

Your tears fell as you stared at the Raiden Shogun, the puppet, in the character screen. Sensing your saddened presence, Ei had switched her consciousness to see what that matter was. Her eyes widened as you stared at her with a heavy breath and shaky eyes. She didn’t understand what had gotte you so upset. 

Seeing you cry hurt her so much as she stared at you through the puppet’s eyes. Ei wanted nothing more than your happiness to last for eternity. Her electro energy was becoming too much, while her consciousness possessed the puppet you had stared at. Her electro ball animation seemed a lot more aggressive than normal as she heard your screaming voice. 

“I wish you were here with me!”

She felt touched at first that you wanted her with you. She wanted you with her too for so long. But your scream made her anger even more prominent. She couldn’t bring herself to look away as you choked back sobs, your breath uneven. The more you calmed down, the more she started to relax. 

She saw your exhausted, tear stained face and felt her heart, outside the puppet, long for your embrace. She wanted nothing more than for you to be in her Plane of Euthymia, where no one would ever hurt you. Your soft breaths made her smile as your tears stopped. As the screen dimmed, her soothing voice spoke. 

“You will be safe with me soon enough, my dearest creator.”

YAE MIKO

She seemed confused at first as you were stuck on the character menu. But seeing your tears made her quickly understand what was going on. Someone had hurt you, and they needed to be dealt with. Your crying got louder and she couldn’t help her growing anger. 

Just as you stuttered out words, a bird had flown to her finger before her very angry fox spirit friend tried to bite it. She may have been smiling, but her anger was bubbling over. Hearing your weak and stuttering voice speak pulled her attention away from her angry fox spirit. She felt so honored to hear those words from you. 

“I-I w-wish y-you w-were w-with m-me.”

She had to hold herself back from electrifying everything right there in the menu. She was so focused on who had done this to you, she had started to plot. She wanted to humiliate and hurt those that had disgraced you. No one should be treating a deity of your caliber with such disrespect. 

Yae Miko smirked as she saw you shrink and fall asleep on the place you were sitting. The more the screen dimmed, the more her eyes glowed with mischievous intent. She hummed to herself as she plotted the demise of those that made you cry. Her voice was smooth as she hummed her words through her teeth. 

“My my, your protection will soon come from the familiar of the Electro Archon my dear god, so please have patience with me~.”

NAHIDA

Nahida wanted to understand why you felt so sad. She was only a baby Archon after all, she looked to you for guidance on human emotions seeing as you had similar ones. But your crying to her had worried her, as she was ill-equipped to help. Nothing in her mind mattered, only you smiling down on her and giving her your happy aura.

She thought of so many ways to try to cheer you up. She did her string to people idle, trying her best to remind you that she is your friend and is there for you. She did what she could, trying to show you how much you were cared for. Her heart broke as she realized her efforts weren’t working. 

“I wish you were here with me.”

She smiled up at you, noticing how the tears stained your face. She was so grateful that a deity like you wanted her, even if she was an inexperienced Archon. She had worshiped you greatly, and only wished to see you smile. Her mind wasn’t on those that had hurt you, but on you feeling better at the moment. 

Seeing you fall asleep brought a smile to her face. You being asleep brought her hope that she could finally meet you in your dreams and bring you comfort. She looked at your now relaxed face, your screen dimming. Once you had fallen into a calm slumber, her voice spoke in hopes to bring you reassurance in your sleep. 

“I promise to protect you in your dreams, so no more tears, oh wise one!”

WANDERER

You were staring at him in the character menu, as tears rolled down your face. It scared him, thoughts of worry and panic, thinking he had done something to displease you. But the more you just stared at him, the more he could tell that it was something else that bothered you. Anger replaced the panic as you started to sob.

He never understood how human emotions worked, and a deity like you having those emotions were new to him. The more your soft sobs caught his ears, the more uncomfortable he felt. He started summoning his anemo ball, doing the start of his idle, but the anemo ball kept getting bigger the longer he held it. The anemo energy then dissipated as he was surprised by your mumbling. 

“I wish you…were…here with me…””

He was caught so off guard when you said that. He felt like it wasn’t fair for you to say that out of nowhere, especially when you were this sad. He thought you were joking, you wanting a puppet like him to be with you to help bring you comfort. He looked into your eyes and saw the exhaustion in them. 

Seeing you fall asleep in front of him was like a gift. He knew it would help you feel better, but something in him wanted to cuddle you while you drifted off. Anger gripped him once more, how could anyone make you cry was the only thought in his head. Subconsciously, he spoke, hoping you heard him.

“Those lousy vermin don’t deserve you. They will know their place once I’m with you.”

FURINA

Furina never understood how to handle someone crying, especially since she was one to bottle up her emotions and hide them away from others. But seeing you like this made her softly smile, it meant you trusted her to be emotional and raw. The next emotion that came barreling in was anger. Anger at those that had made you so sad. 

Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to cheer you up from the other side. She started holding her water seahorse as she was doing her idle, trying to cheer you up. Her face was left with a shocked expression as she held her water seahorse closer, not ready for you to mumble out to her. 

“I wish you were here…with me.”

Those words made her eyes flutter to yours. You wanted her, no one else, her to be with you as you cried. Her ego and stature wad boosted as she straightened her posture. She wanted to reach a hand out to your cheek to stroke your tears away. 

Her sense of justice was strong, and she’d bring anyone to justice in your name. Especially if they had made you cry like this. The screen dimmed as she was so focused on your crying state. She was so caught up in her theatric mind, she didn’t notice either you falling asleep and her loud proclamation that you swore you heard. 

“I will make laws just to make it so if anything makes you cry, they will have to stand justice in front of the Hydro Archon herself!”

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette wasn’t ready for you to stare at him in the character menu with teary eyes. He wasn’t new to tears and sadness, but your sadness was something fresh to him. He wanted to do something about it, wanting to bring those to justice if they had hurt you. Little droplets of rain started to fall around him. 

He did his rain idle as his sadness increased, seeing you stuttering through your cries. He was saddened that the one being he looked up to felt so much sadness. There was a guilt as he felt happy that someone as important as you could have vulnerable moments. The surrounding rain in his idle poured harder as you stuttered out something softly in your tears.

“I w-wish you w-were h-here with m-me.”

He couldn’t stop his rain animation after hearing you speak. Your vulnerable voice and stutters made his eyes widen, he couldn’t bring himself to think that you could be this hurt. It worried him as he only wanted to be with you. He wanted to comfort you properly and not from the confines of code and screen that held him. 

The rain started to stop as he saw you falling asleep. He understood that you had a raw emotional moment and only thought that sleep was much needed. He thought of ways to bring those that made you cry to trial, not sure how they would get there in the first place, however. The screen dimmed more as he only stared at you. 

“Those who made you cry will be judged by the Oratrice itself. So save your tears, my lovely god, for when we can cry together.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[keferon]

Part 4 of Drift/Deadlock and Hot Rods adventure in the mecha au!

Here comes the Sun do do do do- here comes the Sun at Mach five.

———————————————————————

Deadlock needed to kill something. Badly.

He’d kept it together through Ratchets confession. And he kept a relaxed mischievous banter going from the Hangar all the way to Ratchets makeshift clinic. When they finally arrived in Dead En-

The refugee camp. It was called a refugee camp and nothing else.

Deadlock almost transformed in the fragging middle of a refugee camp.

The memory snuck up on him okay?

Ever since he cracked open that one, tiny, memory from before he was Deadlock, pieces of Drift kept floating to the surface.

He gave Ratchet a quick goodbye, saying he needed something to eat. And sped off before the medic could question him.

He needed violence and isolation. Needed to reset his whole damn processor and banging his helm against a hard-organic-stick-thing? Whatever the fuck. Frag? Ugh. It wasn’t working.

He was shaky, couldn’t focus. His chassis felt like it was put inside a vise and someone who hated him had control of the handle.

Ratchet had been a breath of fresh air when Deadlock hadn’t even known he was buried alive. And since then the medic had been stubbornly digging him the rest of the way out.

It. Just felt good.

Being cared for. Being able to relax around someone. And knowing with absolute certainty it wasn’t just an act.

He got used to it. Comfortable with a certain level of vulnerability. Then Ratchet brought in Hot Rod.

If Ratchet was a breeze that slipped inside Deadlocks mental fortress, then Hot Rod was a Fragging bunker busting missile. None of it felt like he deserved it.

Ratchet laid out his spark for judgement. Because Ratchet, amazing and wonderful and impossible Ratchet, didn’t want Deadlock to be stuck with someone like him.

Something shitty inside him whispered, “What if Ratchet doesn’t want to be stuck with someone like him?”

He ignored it. Pushed it down. He didn’t leak coolant over slag like that. He didn’t need people like Ratchet or Hot Rod in his life. He just really, really wanted them in his life. For completely selfish Decepticon-y reasons.

You’d die for them you know.

Shut up.

Deadlock’s processor wouldn’t stop spinning.

He felt exposed.

He felt like slag.

He felt like Drift.

So Deadlock set out to do the most Deadlock thing he could think of.

———————————————————————

Deadlock fucked up.

Deadlock fucked up very badly.

Snow was getting caught in his optics, melting on contact into a slush that made it that much harder to see.

The fragging swarm of quintesson scouts surrounding him were not having that same problem.

They moved in a pack. Smaller and smarter than the standard issue quints that normally devastated the planet, these things unfortunately had a tiny sense of self preservation which made mowing them down that much more difficult.

Deadlock was forced to constantly turn on his peds to avoid the majority of the quints that kept going after his back. There wasn’t a moment he wasn’t beating them off with the stock of his rifle. He couldn’t switch to any close range weapons because if he stopped fighting them off for even a second, the quints would rush him all at once, forcing him to continue.

Couldn’t stop moving for the same reason.

They kept trying to get behind him. Snapping barbed tendrils at the backs of his knees, the gaps of his armor. Trying to force him down.

If I fall I’m dead.

Deadlocks vents were screaming. A brave little fragger went for his face, Deadlock swung his rifle like a bat.

Distraction.

Shooting pain went through the back of his left knee joint. Something with barbs was forcing it apart. Something tore.

Deadlock immediately brought down the barrel through an eye socket and pulled the trigger. Didn’t have time to register if the quint was dead before another one came at him from the opposite side. His peds dragged furrows through the earth and snow. Spinning. He had to keep spinning.

He was slowing.

If I fall I’m dead.

The quints redoubled their efforts to get behind him. More lashes at his back. Another quint darting the other direction. Didn’t even attack. But Deadlock wasn’t ready for the feint and swung at empty air.

The pack leapt at his back as one.

I’m going to die.

Deadlock wedged his rifle between him and the ground. The quintessons tore into his back but the weight was too much to throw off without help.

I’m not gonna see them again.

The rifle dug into his pauldron.

I don’t want to die.

A tendril wrapped around his neck. He clawed at it.

I don’t want to die like this.

One of them was dragging a ped backwards. Forcing his weight onto his injured knee.

I don’t want to die alone.

Drift screamed.

For a moment, from the corner of his blurry optics, he saw a light growing brighter and brighter.

“Huh”, Drift thought deliriously. “I always figured the last light you see before death would appear in front of you.”

IMPACT against the mob at his back sent Drift and the quintesson scouts scattering across the ground.

He fell.

He wasn’t dead.

Deadlock scrambled into an upright kneel, ignoring the lightning like pain shooting up his knee.

Leaning on his rifle, Deadlock saw another mech. Orange and gold with propane blue lights, he had multiple quints trapped in a bear hug. What hit him the hardest was an EM field overflowing with wild, unrestrained joy.

“HOT ROD?!?”

The mecha pilot only got about half the squirmy, bite-y little scrappers in the hold. The other half were quickly shaking off probable Roddy-induced concussions and began leaping at the nearest, newest prone target.

Hot Rod waved.

“Hey dude! Holy shit, that gun looks awesome!” Deadlock looked on in disbelief as more quintessons piled onto Hot Rod.

“What are you doing?! Rod get up!” Deadlock lurched to his feet, his last few thoughts repeated like a skipping track.

I was going to die. I was going to die. Hot Rod is going to die.

The cybertronian rushed towards the mecha. Hot Rod released the remaining quints who quickly turned to join the crushing mass subsuming him.

Hot Rod raised a hand, “Stop! Stop! Don’t get closer!”

Deadlock stopped just short of where the quints would turn on him. “Are you insane?! I’m trying to help you!”

“Just trust me!” Half of Hot Rod’s helm was covered in blackish tendrils. “And then help me in about five seconds!” Orange and gold disappeared under the writhing mass, the light snuffed out before Deadlocks optics.

He finally subspaced his rifle, switching to duel short range handguns that were both messy and loud. He counted five, fucking human seconds.

Something happened to the mass. The squirming suddenly stopped, and in the gaps of the knots surrounding Hot Rod, Deadlock saw something start to glow.

In the next instance, the quintessons exploded off of the mecha. Partially from the act of fleeing, entirely because Hot Rod was completely engulfed in flames.

“WOO! Now the party can get started!” Hot Rod wasted no time in engaging duel flamethrowers and began chasing after the remaining quints with manic glee.

Deadlock stopped questioning shit and started shooting with a vengeance.

Soon enough, the field around them was littered with the quintesson scouts burned and shredded remains.

Deadlocks vents were finally kicking down from maximum and he finally managed to wipe the stupid slagging slush out of his optics.

For the moment his eyes were offline, Deadlock felt a spike of happy that almost bowled him over. A half second before Hot Rod physically bowled him over.

Deadlock’s overtaxed fight or flight systems just gave the fuck up and let the tackle happen.

Hot Rod had him in a tight enough embrace he wasn’t sure he could have gotten away anyways.

“Holy shit I thought you were going to die.” Hot Rod crushed him to his chassis. The twin waves of Worry and Relief were doing things to his processor again. Deadlock (Drift?) was still feeling the aftershocks of it all. Memories skipped again. I’m going to die.

Dea-Dri- he wrapped his shaking arms around Hot Rod. Later, he could just say his knee gave out. Everything was spinning. Wait. No. Hot Rod picked him up and was spinning with him.

“You’re so lil now!” Hot Rod was ecstatic.

Deadlock was back. “Put me down. Gently.”

Hot Rod acquiesced, but seeing Deadlock nearly fall on his own, took the liberty of slinging one of his arms over his shoulders.

“M’kay. You look like shit. Need help walking back to Ratchets? Or can you drive?”

Deadlocks knee and entire back ached, but it wasn’t so debilitating once he’s had a chance to process it for a click.

“Uh, I think I’ll be okay to drive once I get to a road.” Hot Rod pulled him a little more securely into the supporting hold and started walking in the direction of the nearest road.

“Man, that’s still so cool you can do that. I wish I could turn into a car.”

Deadlock snorted, “Oh I’m sure if you keep practicing you’ll figure it out. Try stretching.”

Hot Rod laughed. It was so weird to think there was just a little guy in there. Sitting in like, a fancy cup holder. He sounded like the real thing. Moved like it too. If Deadlock hadn’t met Hot Rod the human first, the uncanny valley would have tipped him off something was wrong, but teeny tiny guy in a big person-puppet would not be his first guess.

Hot Rod stopped short, snapping his helm toward Deadlock.

“Wait. Do you ever drop off Ratchet at the shatterdome?”

Deadlock rolled his optics at the third near spark attack Hot Rod had given him that day.

“Yeeeah?”

Excitement started bubbling over.

“YOU’RE THE MOB BOYFRIEND?!” Hot Rod was stomping his peds while scream-laughing, probably because he couldn’t go for a run without dropping Deadlock.

“Dude! Dude dude dude. Pharma haaates you!”

Well that put Deadlock in a better mood. Albeit, only due to a “misunderstanding”.

“S’not like that. I just give him a lift sometimes. Make sure he doesn’t forget his lunch. Or to take care of himself. We’re not, you know.” Deadlock was pointedly looking the other direction.

Hot Rods cackled at the confirmation of the rumor, and his field steadily shifted towards mischief.

“Oooh Ratchet!” Hot Rod had begun speaking in a falsetto voice. “I love you sooo much! I’m from space but my favorite stars are the ones twinkling in your eyes! I wanna drive you to every beautiful place on this planet and when we finally come home we can watch Golden Girls while you pet my big bald metal head!”

“I’m going to punt you into a fragging Sun.”

Hot Rod laughed harder. He started making some weird wheezing noise that Deadlock hoped meant the imaginary strangling he was doing was working.

“THE UNICRON DAMNED SUN.”

Deadlock’s threatening was severely undercut by the fact that he was laughing now as well. They’d just about made it to the edge of the forest when Hot Rod asked a question that made Deadlock freeze.

“How’d you piss off so many scouts at once anyways? They’re normally way too spread out to all be grouped together like that.”

There were only two times when a pack of quintesson scouts were all gathered in the same place. When they first get dropped off, and when they gather to get picked back up.

Deadlock unhooked his arm from Hot Rod, turning behind them.

The change in air pressure made his finales tingle. Between the snow and the darkness, it was almost impossible to spot with the untrained optic. The snow had stopped falling. It was being blocked.

“Oooh shit.” Hot Rod checked the fuel levels on his flame throwers, glancing between those and the telltale green bio lights of the fuck off massive quintesson descending like the lethargic offspring of a meteor and a shark.

Deadlock brought out two of his heaviest duty guns. And then a third he handed handle first to Hot Rod. Ratchet had only warned him against encouraging Hot Rod’s stupid ideas.

Hot Rod was now looking rapidly between three points of interest.

“Wha-?”

Deadlock gave Hot Rod a gun.

“Do not tell Ratchet.”

Hot Rod held up the side arm. Focus zeroed in. Pretty nasty piece that looked more intimidating than it was. Slagged range but it packed enough of a punch to be worth keeping. Covered in spikes and blades and heavy enough to act as a crude but very nasty club, it was also one of the most over the top looking things Deadlock owned.

Hot Rod’s free hand started flapping faster and faster. His peds similarly bounced rapidly in place, until Deadlock was certain he was about to combust. Hot Rod was making A noise. One that was steadily rising in both pitch and volume. His field going supernova.

The quintesson broke through the clouds, maw open, carving up the earth before them with the bottom of its jaw. A cliffside of teeth was closing in at speed.

Hot Rod screamed.

And Deadlock followed suit.

Sprinting towards death, guns blazing and voices raised in preemptive victory, Deadlock and maybe also Drift, had a suspicion the he and Hot Rod were friends in every universe.

Much to the terror of everyone else.

———————————————————————

And that’s the soft finale to this tale!

Over the course of writing this, the story kept getting longer, but the two scenes it started with were “Hot Rod Meets Deadlock” and “Hot Rod Saves Deadlock” and then more ideas kept popping in between those two scenes.

There is more I plan on writing for these dipshits as well as Jazz and Prowl now but we’ll see what comes first.

I just wanted to say as well that @keferon you are a very talented writer and you’re the reason I was brave enough to share my own stuff. You fit so many little details into your work that just hits like a hammer down the line.

-SSTP

THE SWEET SWEET COMFORT YESSS THE SHENANIGANS!! ABSOLUTELY. Y E S. PL E A S E fklgjgidowjehrkrndhdof

Oh this is amazing. The dynamic you give them. The enERGY. It's like a candy for my soul I love it so so much ogkfhdgd I'm so happy you decided to share your writing! It's filled with joy and and I-dont-fucking-know purified enthusiasm?? I can't remember the right words rn but hopefully you get what I mean haha

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller Au pt 5

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. AU masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 6 is here!

This is kinda long so bring your snacks along.

Baldwin and a woman- kissing.

You were in your room right now, fiddling with your time machine now that you had one tool to pry it open. Just 20 minutes ago, you had witnessed Baldwin and some girl kissing, and very swiftly you, turned and left the scene before either of them could notice you. You dont need to meddle in their business- why should you?

Its not like I actually want to stay here and confront him if he really did betray his future wife.

Someone knocked quickly on your door before entering in.

"Y/n!" Baldwin beamed as he ran towards you and picked you up, spinning you around. "Princess! I missed you!" He exclaimed, putting you down and kissing your forehead. Though he still kissed you with the same intensity as ever, you didnt feel the warmth as you usually did.

"Hello." You said monotonously, it was the best you could do to keep your voice stable. Baldwin, still in a daze, cupped your face in his hands and gazed lovingly at you.

"You are a sight for sore eyes." Shut up.

You looked away as Baldwin continued to stare into your soul. "So... how was your trip? Tell me all about it!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you further to him.

"It was fine." You replied, looking at the collar of his shirt. You refuse to look up into his eyes, lest you lose control of your temper. "Just fine? What about your family? Did you find them?" His voice held genuine concern.

You hummed, still not looking up. "I have found some clues, but I will need to go there again to find more."

Baldwin pouted. "Again? No. Being away from you for just 1 week already felt like a lifetime!" Oh I bet. Thats why you couldnt stop yourself from kissing some whor-

"I need to go, Baldwin. Its important for me to find them." You said with the same serious tone, and it didnt go unnoticed by him this time.

He tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You tried to pull away, but his arms held you firmly. His eyes studied you again, and he wasn't convinced.

"Princess, tell me whats bothering you." You. You are bothering me.

As much as you wanted to say that, you didnt. Cheater or not, he still is the king.

Finally, you gave him a small smile. "I'm sorry, I'm just- tired from the travelling." He sighed in relief, using the back of his hand to caress the side of your face. "Oh, I bet you are darling. Why dont you take a nap now and I'll come fetch you for dinner?"

-

Baldwin threw you a feast on your return. Even though you had no appetite, you still joined him because you cant completely ignore him without raising suspicion. So, for now, you'll bide your time. You'll play the fool.

It just didnt make any sense. Why- why was he trying so hard to be affectionate with you? Why he wanted to marry you when he was interested in someone else? And before anyone says that maybe he's not that into her- um, back in this era, when everyone was conservative, even Baldwin was religious, he wouldn't just kiss any girl out of wedlock unless he was absolutely sure he was going to marry her.

"Y/n?" You looked up from your plate at Sibylla. Baldwin had invited his sister and Guy to celebrate your return. "Tell us, how was Egypt?"

You could feel Baldwin's eyes on you, but you didnt look his way. "It was good. Salauddin was a very good host, he had arranged for me to see the pyramids."

"Ah, how kind of Salauddin. I'll be sure to write him a letter and send him some gifts. What do you think, princess?" Baldwin offered, but you only gave a small hum and barely spared a glance his way before continuing to talk with Sibylla.

"My king, I do not think it would be wise to do that. The Muslims are our enemies-" Guy interjected but Baldwin shot him down with a look. Baldwin didnt even have to glare at Guy to intimidate him.

"I have brought some souvenirs for you. They're in my room- I'll show them to you later." You smiled at Sibylla who beamed back.

Dinner was mostly uneventful, or until dessert was served and Guy began choking on blueberry. "Guy!" Sibylla cried out as her husband began thrashing about from the lack of air. The servants tried to help him, slapping his back and all, but really what could they do.

Serves him right for trying to eat and start a propaganda against Muslims again. But alas, you needed Guy alive if you wanted to bring the downfall of Baldwin and Jerusalem, just as history had it.

So you walked over and pushed everyone away before performing Heimlich manoeuvre. It took a few minutes but the blueberry finally dislodged itself from his wind pipe and out.

"Oh! Guy-!" Sibylla rubbed his back as he coughed while a servant passed him some water. She smiled at you gratefully. "You saved him, Y/n! Thank you! You really are an angel!" Guy finally recovering from his coughing fit, pushed Sibylla's hands away and glared at you.

"She did not save me- I was not dying-!" He argued, but before Baldwin could defend you, you replied nonchalantly.

"I agree. You werent dying. This was just God's way of telling you to shut up sometimes. Hallelujah!" Baldwin had to cover up his laugh as everyone in the room automatically said "Hallelujah", not giving Guy a chance to retaliate.

Baldwin's eyes sparkled with amusement as he found you smirking.

You're a clever one.

-

Baldwin came to fetch you for breakfast the next day. He came to your room last night, just minutes after Sibylla had left, but one of your maids informed him that you had already went to sleep. Slightly odd, as the king would always wish you good night before you slept, but he suppose you were tuckered out from your long journey.

However, he was dumbfounded when he saw all your maids standing outside your room, whispering amongst each other.

"What is going on? Why are you not with the princess?" Baldwin asked, quickly waving them off as they bowed.

"Your majesty, the princess- um she has started her bloody flux."

"Her WHAT?!"

"Her monthly cycle." Oh. Periods. Baldwin sighed. He thought some terrible accident had occurred.

Then again, periods in medieval times were not a good news either. Sure, they did indicate fertility and all, but woman were still shamed about it, especially religiously. Some people believed that cramps and bleeding were a punishment for Eve's original sin. Others even believed that since one is bleeding for such a long time, then that person is "sick" and could transfer this "disease" to those in contact or even near mensturating women. A small minority even thought that this monthly flow was some sort of sorcery or curse that could ruin entire crop fields. Add on to that the lack of sanitary pads/tampons and no ibuprofen, and you get what would be a terrible time for women.

"Please inform the princess that I'm here-"

The maids shared a look. "Your majesty, it is not advisable to be near the princess when she is sick-"

"Inform the princess. Now." The maid's heart almost dropped at his tone, before following his order. Moments later, she returned looking even more nervous than before.

"Y-your majesty, the princess insists that she will see you herself when she is feeling better, for now she would like to rest." Baldwin frowned. Just how unwell were you? Are you- are you really that unwell or do you just not want to see him?

No. You wouldnt avoid him like this. He hasnt done anything wrong.

Baldwin looked at the maids again, who were waiting with bated breath. "Bring herbal medicines for the princess. Ensure the best care for her. Every need must be met." The consequences of not following his order didnt need to be voiced.

-

You returned back to tinkering with your time machine when you heard his retreating steps. Were you on your period? Yes. Were you so sick that you did not want to even look at Baldwin? No, but then again, your cramps hit worse on day 2 and your ibuprofen was burned away with your clothes.

Then again, PMS-ing or "working on your time machine" wasnt the real reason you refused to meet Baldwin. It did contribute to it, but deep down you knew you were still bothered by the fact that he kissed that woman.

You dropped your time machine on the bed exasperatedly. Clearly, you werent going to be able to focus on this as long as you didnt confront your feelings about the kissing. So, you became your own unpaid therapist.

First of all, was it really cheating? It was just a kiss- nope. You shook your head, deciding. It so was cheating! Especially considering the time period and how conservative everyone was.

Alright. Next question- was it intentional? You closed your eyes, trying to come up with excuses. Maybe he was drunk? No. Baldwin never gets that drunk, and even drunk, you highly doubt he's one to go for day time drinking. Perhaps that lady initiated the kiss? Yeah, thats possible. She kissed him, but- your lips pulled into a scowl as you recalled the sight. He didnt push her back for a good few seconds. Of course, you didnt stick around for long to see if he did, but still, Baldwin should've pushed her back. Maybe he had his back turned and she caught him by surprise- you sighed. No way. Baldwin's reflexes were too fast, to the point you think he probably has a sixth sense. He wouldn't have been caught off guard, or even let anyone get this close to him.

You rolled your eyes. Intentional or not, at the end of the day, the fact is that Baldwin didnt immediately push her away and smack her down on the ground.

On to the next query- who the hell was that lady? Because nobody would just go up to the king and kiss him, especially when said king made sure to announce his engagement to the entire world. So, she planned it. Yes, no one would dare to do that unless they knew they could get away with it. So maybe she's someone Baldwin knows. Personally. Maybe a childhood friend? An old bethrothed? Or his favourite whore because Baldwin isnt as innocent as he seems and decided to have a bachelor party while you were away?

And finally, the burning question- why did it bother me who he was locking lips with? You crossed your arms against your chest defensively. Why did it bother me so deeply? Was I jealou- You scoffed. No. Definitely not. Okay, maybe I am a little jealous. And who wouldn't be? Anyone in my shoes would understand. Perhaps I enjoyed his attention, its human nature. Normal psychology... yeah. Even if I wasn't going to return his affections ever, even if I never intended to marry Baldwin, of course I would still expect him to be loyal, He didn't know I was going to leave him! He shouldn't be kissing other women! He should've stayed loyal, stayed true to me, his fiancee!

You exhaled sharply, brows furrowing the more you thought about his betrayal. It was understandable for me to be pissed. Why? Because of Baldwin and his stupid lovey dovey words and his disgusting forehead kisses and his dumb big blue eyes that made me believe him.

And even if he didnt actually love you, you thought that at the very least- he liked you, especially when you had literally saved his fucking life.

Your nostrils flared. "Jerk." You whispered to yourself.

A knock came on your door.

It was one of the maids, bringing in something on a tray.

"His Majesty has sent some herbal medicines for you." You were a little surprised at the gesture, not because Baldwin did it. Ugh. No, you were surprised because in medieval times, people often withheld herbal medicines or anything that would relieve period pain purely because many believed that this pain was the punishment of Eve's original sin for all womankind. So- considering Jerusalem's religous history, you were surprised at the gesture.

"I have also brought in more cloth rags for you. Would you like me to help you change-" "No!" You said abruptly, heat rising to your cheek. Yes, you were using linen rags because you didnt have any pads with you. Of course, earlier you had futuristic gadgets and medicines to deal with this situation, but with all of them burned to ashes, you had no choice.

"Oh. My apologies princess. I thought you'd like some privacy so I excused protocol, but I can have your ladies in waiting come and assist you-" "Please stop talking." You begged. "Its... fine. I can do it myself. Please leave the rags in my cupboard. And um-" You fiddled with your hands, trying to gather the words to voice your next request.

The sweet old lady smiled kindly at you. "Yes, princess?"

You looked down, cheeks flushing. "Can you... get me some more soap? And um, thicker rags?"

"Soap? Oh, I'll have the bath prepared right away-"

"No, not body soap. Soap for... washing my clothes." The maid nodded understandingly. "You can give me your stained clothes, princess. I'll wash them myself."

"Im sorry-" She waved you off. "No worries. I should've asked. Its just- woman here usually dont have heavy flows. I'll arrange more rags. If you dont mind me asking, how long does your flow last?"

"Sev-" You were going to say seven days but then realised the more days you added, the less you'll have to see Baldwin, or anyone else really and that will buy you more time to work on your machine. "Ten, sometimes twelve days."

The kind lady's eyes bulged a little. "I-! My apologies, princess! I- I was just caught off guard. Its um- well, its just girls here get shorter flows. The longest I heard was 5 days." Of course, in medieval times, menstrual cycles were shorter due to poor diet and more frequent child bearing.

"10 to 12 days... princess, I apologise for asking this, but have you considered that you might be bleeding excessively because of a disease? Shall I fetch a physician?" She asked with concern.

You shook your head. "No. I have always gotten them this long and I had myself checked by a physician. She said its normal, especially where I'm from." The maid nodded, satisfied that you're not bleeding to death.

-

Baldwin was in his study, working on some official documents when your maid knocked on his door.

"Your Majesty." She bowed gracefully as Baldwin smiled at her, standing from his seat to walk up to her, embracing her in a warm hug.

"Lady Margaret, how are you?" Lady Margaret used to be his royal nanny for a long while and took care of him even when he had contracted leprosy. She was practically a mother figure to him, especially when his own mother died. When Baldwin became engaged to you, he had asked her to be your senior lady in waiting, which will be her official title once you are wed to him. For now, she is your head maid. Baldwin trusted her the most with you. She had a comforting presence, and he was sure that while she took care of you, you would also find comfort in her the same way he used to.

"I'm good, your majesty." She smiled softly. "I just served the princess lunch."

"Hm, and how is the princess now?" The concern in his voice warmed her heart.

"The princess is well now. She's resting at the moment, though I feel a little concerned."

His heart skipped a beat. "Why?"

"Princess Y/n told me about her cycle time." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "It seems that she will suffer through this- diseased period longer than most others."

"How long?"

"Ten or twelve days." His eyes went saucer wide. From what he's heard, the normal duration is often 2 or 3 days, maybe 5 for some. But this?

"Summon the physici-" "I offered, your majesty. But she insists that she already had herself checked and that this is her normal cycle." Lady Margaret informed him, before continuing on to ease his worries. "She seems very knowledgeable about her body, and she is handling it pretty well for now."

"For now?" She nodded. "Of course, only time can tell if the pain increases in its intensity. All we can do is offer our help and pray that this bloody flux passes smoothly and swiftly."

Baldwin pondered over her words for a moment, his brows still furrowed slightly before he finally spoke again. "Please summon the royal physician. I would like to talk to him." He ordered before leaving his study to go to the royal library.

-

The next day, as expected your cramps hit. You had no plans to move an inch today, tossing and turning as you clutched your abdomen, eyes screwed shut in pain.

Somebody knocked on your door. Its likely one of the maids, probably to bring you food or something.

"What?" You called out, pulling the covers over your head. You're in no mood to interact with anyone. You heard the door open and footsteps entering. You exhaled, barely suppressing the painful groan. "Please can you go right now and get me some of the herbal medicines you had given me yesterday- and no, no food. I'm too nauseous."

You heard the person clear their throat, making you frown. Why haven't they left? Oh, please this better be not some "royal protocol" shit where they withhold the drugs from you.

You whipped the blanket off you, eyes still closed as you raged off. "Unless you want me to continue to feel like I have a iron poker stuck up in my spine while my soul leaves me from my feet, you will get me those herb-" you stopped as you opened your eyes to see-

"Baldwin?" He stood there with worry spread across his face.

"Is it... really that bad?" He asks in a low volume, as if afraid that noise would hurt you. In his hands, he held a tray that had a bowl. Walking up to your side, he set the tray on your side table, and thats when you saw the bowl of soup on it.

"Why are you- you're not supposed to be in here." You informed him. "I'm sick-"

"I know." Baldwin began sitting down on your bed, making you scoot back to give him space. He scanned your face briefly, making note of the tired eyes. He raised his hand to touch your forhead, but you turned your face away, making him halt. Why... were you avoiding his touch?

"Princess?" He called you, but you didnt turn to look at him opting to answer by keeping your eyes fixed on your fingers fiddling with the covers. "I'm not well- you shouldnt be near me, or you'll risk getting sick-"

"I'll take the risk." He announced as his hand found its way to your forehead first, and then caressed your cheek. "You took the risk for me too, remember?"

I did. You stared at him. And for what, you prick?

Taking your silence as a sign, Baldwin picked up the bowl of soup and brought the spoon up to your lips.

"I'm not hungry."

"I know, but this will help with the pain and nausea. I promise." He gently nudged the spoon against your lips again, and you parted your lips as the aroma of rosemary and oregano hit your nose.

The soup tasted good and you wouldn't admit it out loud, but it did warm your soul as it slid down your throat. It was earthy and creamy, and just what your cramping body needed.

"Its nice, hm?" He asked, smiling as you gave him a single nod. "I had the kitchen make it with my own recipe."

"Your recipe?"

"Well, I told them about what ingredients to add, ones that would be beneficial for your body and soothe some of your ache. They had to tweak it a bit to make it palatable." Baldwin explained. "And how did you know what ingredients to add?" You interrogated. Did he make it for his lover? Or stole the recipe from her?

"Oh, I just researched it." "Researched?" He nodded, feeding you another spoon. "I read some books."

You couldn't help but scoff. "So what? You're an expert on periods now?"

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooped up some more soup to feed you. "Of course not! I cant be an expert by spending after only researching for a day. Sure, I summoned the royal physicians to educate me more on the topic but I dont think he knows much."

He spent a whole day... reading about periods? You turned your gaze away from him, choosing to focus on the wall behind him instead. "That's obvious. Just how much could a man know about the female body?"

Baldwin's eyes twinkled. "Exactly my thoughts, princess." He fed you another spoon. "That's why I'm having a royal body of physicians solely focused on studying the female body and affect of medicine built. It will consist of the best physicians, both men and women, from around the world study and work on the diseases concerning the female body. I'll fund it personally."

"What? Why?"

He looked at you dumbfounded. "Obviously for the same reason you said. Currently not much is known about a woman's body, so why not? I don't want you to be suffering again because of my lack of knowledge. I truly do feel helpless when I see you in pain." He confessed sadly.

Liar.

He set the empty bowl to the side before taking your right hand in both of his. "Please, let me know how can I help you? My love, my beautiful princess, it hurts me to see you in this torment." Baldwin said as he kissed the back of your hand gently.

You stared at his face, at those blue eyes of his. How can he- how can he lie with such conviction?

You pulled your hand away from him, looking away (which now that you think about- why am I avoiding his eyes? I didnt do anything wrong!).

"I wish to be alone, Baldwin."

In your peripheral vision, you could see the way his face dropped, and though you should've felt delighted, you felt rather awful- as if you had hurt a child.

It only made things worse when he whispered. "But... why?"

Still avoiding his eyes, you replied. "I- I adjust better to this- this state when I'm alone. I just need to rest, that's all. Some peace and quiet." You convinced yourself that you only explained to him just to get him to leave.

Had you looked at him, you would've seen the sorrow on his face.

"O-of course, princess. As you wish."

He left.

-

The next 3 days were uneventful for you, mostly because you didnt leave your room and- Baldwin didnt return to disturb you.

Which is good. You though to yourself, because it finally gave you enough time to not only work on your time machine but also work on your plan to right the timeline as it should be.

Which is why, today you had decided to leave your room. Of course it helped that Lady Margaret had brought in cotton for you to make a DIY sanitary napkin.

"Where did you get this?" You don't recall cotton being grown easily in cooler climates.

Lady Margaret smiled as she made your bed. "His Majesty had it imported from Sicily."

Your eyes went wide. "How? Sicily is- thats far away!" She chuckled at you shock. "Yes, but I think this sicilian cotton had made its way to Egypt, and perhaps His Majesty acquired it from Sultan Salauddin."

You looked at the large amount of cotton packed into bags in your room. "He bought this much?" Lady Margaret followed your gaze to the pile sitting in the corner, and mistook your surprise for disappointment.

"No, dont worry princess. King Baldwin had bought bales of cotton! They're stored away for future use." Your jaw dropped.

Bales? Baldwin ordered BALES OF COTTON?! You gasped internally. If he had THAT much cotton imported from Egypt, Salauddin surely would've asked for the reason because he would suspect that Baldwin is planning to use it for military strategy or attack. But you know Baldwin, his dumbass would've spilled to Salauddin, his off field bestie who he confides in about everything, about your periods.

You want to crawl into a hole in ground and die. Right now.

But... you fucked up history, so dying of embarrassment will have to wait.

"Lady Margaret, I need some fresh air so I'll be either taking a walk in the garden or you'll find me in the royal library ." You said, adjusting your clothes in front of the mirror. "Please make sure that neither my maids nor my knights are to follow me. I- I need some time to breathe or I will lose my mind if I feel anyone breathe down my neck about some royal protocol. I'll be back before lunch." You left before she could protest, though you doubt she will when she saw how agitated you were.

You had walked towards the west hall where you were hoping to find that big headed buffoon-

You heard his obnoxious laughter before you saw him.

Guy was standing in the middle of the hall, looking ugly as hell as he smirked at some poor maid struggling to break free from his grasp.

"Oh come on, you wench, give me a kiss-"

"Guy, let her go." Startling him, the maid took the chance and ran off. Guy turned around, glaring when he saw you. "What do you want?" He grumbled, running a hand through his hair frustratedly, looking back to see if the maid was still there or not.

"Quit it." You scolded him, before walking towards an empty room, nodding at him to get in. He grinned as you strode in. "Ah, so you're jealous? Well dont you worry darling, I can give you a kiss to-"

"I would rather burn myself alive and be crucifed than even be rumoured that you dared to touch me with your disgusting paws." You remarked, walking away from him to create distance between you two. "I have a proposal for you that would interest you."

Guy grumbling, sat down on a chair and looked at you expectantly.

"I have a plan to make you king." His eyes went wide.

"I- I- what?!" He stood up. "I dont want- this is treason!" He yelled, pulling out his sword and aiming at you. You stood steadfast, unaffected. "And this isnt? If you kill me, who do you think will end up in the dungeons?" You sighed. "Put it away, Guy, before you embarrass yourself any further."

You began explaining your plan. "You and I both know you were just waiting for Baldwin to roll over and die when he had leprosy. I know you want to be king, and... I can help you with that."

He stared at you, trying to figure out if this is a trap. "I... I deserve to be king. I was promised the throne. Thats why I married Sibylla!" He complained. Honestly, what the fuck does Sibylla see in this piece of cow dung?

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you continued. "I agree, thats why we should make an alliance-"

He scoffed. "An alliance? With you?" He said with such disgust, you didnt know whether it was because it was you were a woman, or because you were- well, you. "Why would I need you?"

"Because Guy... you're too dumb to pull this off on your own. No offense." He was offended, so you continued before he could start talking shit again. "Guy, if you become a little open minded for just a few minutes and hear me out, you'll find my proposal very useful." And by some miracle, he stayed quiet and let you present your plan.

When you were finally done explaining, he looked pretty convinced. But of course, he would rather stab himself than admit that outloud.

"Your plan... can work, but it'll take an awful lot of time." He said.

You leaned against the wall, and crossed your arms. "Good things comes to those who wait."

"I still think we should do it my way." You rolled your eyes at his insistence. "Guy, do you know how stupid it sounds when you suggest that we lock Baldwin in a room full of lepers? He cant get leprosy again."

"Well, why not?!"

"Because I cured him." He scowled at your answer. "What about measles? Or yellow fever-"

"Baldwin cant get sick. Ever." Well, technically he could get sick but its highly unlikely because the medicinal vial he drank when you gave him your water had all the vaccines in it, so Baldwin's immunity is pretty invincible right now. You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Look, if we follow my plan, then Baldwin will die a hero, no one will suspect you of anything, and you still get to be king!"

He seemed to contemplate for a moment before narrowing his eyes at you. "And what do you get out of it?"

"Freedom." Guy scoffed. "You want freedom over being Queen of Jerusalem, the Holy Land? Do you think I'm stupid?!"

"Those are two different questions. But yes, to both." You smirked as he got mad. "Okay fine. I'm doing this for... revenge."

"Revenge?" You nodded. "I love someone else, and Baldwin doesnt love me either. He only wants me because of my "healing abilities." You lied, but this is the only way to convince Guy. "So what do you say? Are we in an understanding?" You asked him.

Guy smirked, nodding.

-

You were on your way towards your chambers when you saw her again.

Her. The woman who kissed Baldwin.

The raven haired lady was leaving her room and hadnt noticed you standing at the end of the corridor. She pulled her hood up, looking around hastily before leaving towards the East wing of the castle.

Where Baldwin resided.

You had no reason to, but before you could stop yourself, you were entering her room.

Might as well check the place where Baldwin's been hiding his lover all this time.

It was an average sized room, nowhere near as lavish as your or Baldwin's was, but still better than what some of his royal guests would get. You walked towards her bed, sitting down as a sharp cramp hit you.

You groaned, holding your stomach as you buckled over and thats when you caught sight of a small box under the bed. You pulled it out and took of the lid. It contained letters. Many letters from different people, but mostly from Baldwin.

You looked at the dates- they've been in contact for years.

Your finger traced over her name.

"Charlotte." Huh. Sounds a lot like harlot-

You shook your head. You cant stay here for too long, dont want "Charlotte" walking in on you snooping. Since these letters were arranged according to dates, you picked a couple on the bottom, to read later and see what Baldwin has been upto after announcing his engagement.

Pocketing them in your dress, you turned to leave, opening the door only to come face-to-face with her.

She was startled, before looking confused as to who you were.

Of course, she doesnt know you. While you were trying to come up with an excuse, Charlotte's eyes fell on the huge diamond ring on your finger, and she let out a small gasp of realisation and immediately dropped into a graceful courtesy.

"Your Majesty! I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" Alright, maybe the ball can be in your court.

You flicked your wrist to signal her to rise. "That's quite alright..."

"Charlotte." She replied. You hummed. "Right. I apologise, I didnt know this was your room. I was just trying to find the library."

"Oh thats on the other side of the castle, in the North wing!" She said cheerfully, your eyes falling on that dimpled smile of hers.

"Hm, you seem to know a lot about the castle." You remarked, a little bitterly.

But perhaps Charlotte didnt catch on. "Oh yes! I spent a lot of time here as a child. My father used to work for the late king." She explained. You continued to study her face, that fair complexion, blemish free skin, rosy cheeks, and hazel eyes adorned with luscious lashes.

"Ah, so you must be close with King Baldwin." You finally said, and you didnt fail to catch the momentary shock in her eyes before she composed herself.

Busted.

"I- hahaha, um, no. We used to play sometimes when we were young, but then the late king passed away, and King Baldwin had to take up new duties." She chuckled nervously.

You sighed dramatically. "Pity. You seem like a lovely gal." Charlotte's eyes widened slightly. "Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I guess." You mumbled as you moved past her.

"Y-your Majesty!" She called out from behind you. You looked at her nervous face as she bit her lip, trying to come up with the words.

"Yes?"

"I- I need your help." She gulped. "King Baldwin-"

"Y/N!" You whipped your head around to find Baldwin at the other end of the hall, marching over towards you two. His pace was fast and... somewhat angry.

He came to a halt, taking your face in his hands before kissing your forehead hard. "I've been looking for you everywhere, princess!" He hugged you, pulling your head into his chest. "You had me so worried!"

While your head was shoved against his chest, you managed to catch a glimpse of Charlotte looking at Baldwin with desperation, and tears welling up in her eyes. After a little struggle, you finally managed to push yourself away from Baldwin, but he immediately took ahold of your arms, not letting you get away from him. Or-

pulling you away from Charlotte.

The lady continued to look at Baldwin with those barely suppressed anguish, but he refused to spare her a glance. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and began pushing you in the opposite direction.

"Come on, princess. You need to be in bed resting." He said to you, still not acknowledging her.

"Your Majesty, I need to talk-" Charlotte called out.

"We'll talk later, Lady Charlotte."Baldwin continued to pull you along with him. "Your Majesty-"

"I said- later." He finally looked over his shoulder, and you were astonished to see the mean glare he cast her.

Charlotte finally bowed her head in submission.

As you both reached your room, Baldwin seemed to finally return to his usual self. "Oh princess, I just felt like my heart dropped when I was informed you werent in your room! You know the physicians have been emphasising bed rest-"

"What just happened back there, Baldwin?" You cut off his rambling.

"What was what, dear?"

"Baldwin." Your tone turned dead serious. "Why did you pull me away from her? What was Charlotte going to tell me?"

He looked into your eyes, and you could see the gears turning in his head. "Do not lie to me, Baldwin." You warned.

His gaze turned sharp. "I just didnt want you to listen to anything she had to say." He sat on your bed, leaning forward as he clasped his hands. "She's... not in the right state of mind."

Ah. So she's "crazy".

"Why is she not in the right mind? And why is she here then?" You demanded answers.

Baldwin sighed, rubbing his temples. "You should not be burdened with that. I am... handling it." He got up, taking your hands in his. "Just trust me, princess. I am doing this to protect you."

Fuck. That.

You wanted to backhand him so bad, but you also did not want your head chopped off. Seriously though... the nerve men have. To not only frame Charlotte as being "off her meds" but also basically admit to cheating because he's doing this to "protect you", what kind of bullshit is that?

But alas, your time machine was still not fixed and if the most

"pious" man could be cheating on you with a smile plastered on his face, you didnt think any other man of this era would fair any better.

So you played the fool.

"Of course I trust you, Baldwin." You let him kiss your hairline sweetly, though you felt anything but.

-

It didn't surprise you the next day when you tried to look for Lady Charlotte, only to be told that she left the day before, in the dead of the night.

Baldwin couldnt be looking anymore guilty than he is at the moments. Seriously, kicking out your lover the day your fiancee finds out about her existence?

You scoffed. He can do whatever the hell he wants, you're going to be leaving for Egypt soon anyways.

Returning to your room, you decided to read the letters that you had stole from Charlotte's room yesterday.

The 4 letters you had managed to take, all were from Baldwin detailing that he would "help her" and "cares for her still", etc. However, the last letter, the latest one, dated to almost 10 days ago, the same time you were away in Egypt, told Charlotte that he had been cured of leprosy, and would be soon able to get her the "cure" too. But this letter, it was signed off as "King Baldwin IV" and not "Baldwin" as in other letters.

All the previous letters, all of them were months old, or at the very least, they were all written before he announced his engagement. Which meant that for more than a month now, Baldwin hadnt written to her, kind of surprising, since he wrote to her- according to the dates, at least every two weeks. So why hadnt he wrote to her after deciding to marry you? He never mentioned you to her before-

You looked up in realisation. Did... did Baldwin plan to use you as a universal "cure"? You exhaled sharply in disbelief. No, no way. Baldwin doesnt actually believe in all that religious mumbo jumbo about you being an "angel sent by God who has magic healing powers". But-

Your heart sank. Of course, he does. Thats why he's making that "royal body of physicians", the best from around the world, to study you. He never wanted to study the female body to help your period cramps! He's gonna use you as a fucking lab rat to make himself and his people invincible! He wants you to cure them all!

What happens- what happens when he realises that I cant cure anyone? What's he going to do to me?

Your throat ran dry at the silent answer. You've read about medieval torture. They're brutal.

You heard footsteps coming towards your room, so you quickly his your letters and tried to look normal again.

"Princess?" Baldwin knocked before entering, not waiting for your permission. He beamed as he looked at you, walking upto you to kiss your cheek, but frowned immediately. "Princess, you're sweating. Are you okay?"

You wiped the cold sweat quickly. Nodding at him, you changed the subject. "Where are you going?" You asked, looking at his clothes.

"Oh! I'm going hunting! Its been a while, and I read somewhere that bone marrow is very nutritious for the body, so I'm going to hunt some animals for you." He explained ecstatically before grinning at you as he leaned down to your level. "But since its been so long since I last went hunting, I decided I needed some good luck. So... princess, will you bless me with some luck?"

"W-what?" You stammered out at the proximity. He turned his cheek, glancing at you expectantly. Oh, he cant be serious.

"Do you want your king, your soon-to-be husband to die?" He teased, but at the same time, you knew he wouldnt leave until you did what he wanted.

Swallowing thickly, you leaned in slowly and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, right where his dimple appeared when you did. Immediately, he turned face back to you and grabbed your head to steady and planted a wet kiss on your forehead.

"My luckiest charm!" He chuckled, pinching your nose as your flushed. "I'll be back before dinner!" He said on his way out.

-

3 hours later, you had finally decided to leave. You cant wait until another week and who knows if Baldwin will even let you leave then? What if he figures out that there is no family in Egypt for you and decides to lock you away in the dungeons to be experimented on?

Ironic how you as a scientist will now be a guinea pig for medieval era "scientists".

You had sneaked out of your room without anyone noticing, a feat in itself since the place is crawling with knights and servants.

But of course, Baldwin would've made sure there was at least one person tailing your every move.

"Princess Y/n?" The knight commander of your security detail called out. What were the odds of him leaving his post at the front of the castle, to walk in on you mounting a horse in the stables at the back of this castle? "Where are you going? His Majesty told me that you would be resting in your room today."

You blinked at him, trying to come up with an excuse. "I- I-"

He looked at you with even more concern, however that would start turning into suspicion soon if you don't answer him soon.

"Chapel!" You blurted out. "I- I am going to the royal chapel... to uh- isolate myself."

"Isolate?"

"Y-yes, because of my- um flow. I do not want to risk his majesty or- anyone getting sick because of me." The knight commander seemed satisfied with your explanation. He nodded, signalling a couple of other knights his way. "Very well, princess. Let these knights accompany you to the chapel, and they will keep guard while you isolate yourself inside."

You know he wouldnt let you go without knights, so you dont argue. Besides, the royal chapel is huge. You're sure you can sneak out of there unnoticed by these knights.

-

At the chapel, you waited until it was dark and the last of the church staff had taken their leave. You had found a small window to squeeze through, but just then, one of the knights knocked on the door of your chapel.

You didnt answer at first, hoping that they'd think you were asleep and dont disturb you again. However, they knocked again, this time with more persistence.

Grumbling, you returned to your bed and messed up your hair, pretending like you just woke up.

"Yes?"

The knight barged in, looking spooked. "A-apologies for waking you up, princess but-! But his majesty-!" You got up from your bed, brows furrowing.

"His Majesty has been injured during the hunt!" He stammered out.

Your eyes widened. Baldwin got injured? The knight began ushering you out of the chapel. "We must return to palace now! Its not safe!"

"What? Why?" You stopped him from helping you mount your horse. He looked at the other knights who were all on high alert as they kept looking around.

"The king was shot by an arrow!"

-

You were now back at the castle, against your will, so running away will have to wait. You were going to go to your room, but the knight commander ushered you towards Baldwin's.

"Why am I going there?" You asked as he escorted you.

"The king is injured." He replied. "So? Fetch the physicians."

"I did." He stopped to look at you. "But His Majesty has refused them from helping. He asked for you specially."

Oh no. Is he- is he going to make you "heal" him again? But you dont have any of your medicinal potions anymore. So when he realises you cant heal him-

You stood in front of his door.

Will he kill me?

You entered the room, spotting him lying on the bed bare chested, with an arrow stuck in his left shoulder blade.

Baldwin's eyes were closed, but his brows were furrowed in pain, sweat glistening from his entire body.

As you walked near, you spotted the bandages and ointments left by the physicians.

"B-Baldwin?" Your voice was so small, heart thumping against your chest as his eyes fluttered open weakly.

"P-princess?" He sounded so frail. Somehow, despite the state he was in, he managed to smile. "You came?"

You nodded. "You asked for me."

"I did. Only you can heal me from this. Only you can save me from death."

Save him?

You had him sit up to inspect the wound. "I-" Your eyes narrowed at the wound, and then at his face.

"Baldwin." He hummed weakly in response. Gritting your teeth, you ripped out the arrow from his shoulder, making him gasp in pain. "What did you do that for?!"

You waved the arrow in his face. "This hadnt penetrated through your shoulder! It wasnt even in that deep!" You threw the arrow to your side. "You werent dying! You're not even close to dying!"

He pouted, rubbing his shoulder where a small hole was. "So? It still hurt. Just bandage me-"

"Why didnt you have the physicians do it for you?!"

"Why would I when I have you? Come on, nurse me back to health, princess." He sighed when you glared at him. "Okay fine. I only called for you because well- you've been very distant with me."

Your nostril flared. "And whose fault is that?" You gritted out before turning to leave.

"Wait, princess-" He called out from behind. You werent going to listen to another word- another lie! Twisting the handle, you opened the door, only for it to be slammed shut by hand coming over you.

"Princess~" Baldwin turned you around, pushing you against the door as he locked it. "You arent going anywhere until we clear this out."

You pushed him away. "I dont want to clear it out." Baldwin's brows rose at your harsh tone. You turned around to leave again but Baldwin grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest.

"Y/n." His eyes pierced through you. "Why are you acting like this?"

You didnt answer. "Let me go, Baldwin." "No. Answer me-" "Let me go, Baldwin." "Princess, youre being unfair to me. What did I do to deserve such harshness from the one person I love the most-"

"You kissed Charlotte."

The color drained from his face, and the shock of being caught made him release your wrist. "Did Charlotte tell you this?"

Before either of you could react, you slapped him. Baldwin stared at you in shock, holding his cheek. You just slapped a king- the king of the HOLY LAND, but you honestly couldnt bring yourself to care about the conseuquences of your actions.

You backed away from him as tears pooled into your eyes. "You arent even denying it. You kissed her."

"Charlotte kissed me-"

"But you didnt push her back!" You screamed, tears finally flowing free. "I saw it- I fucking saw it, Baldwin!"

"Y/n listen to me-"

"If you loved Charlotte, if you planned on getting back with her, why did you propose to me?! I never wanted to marry you, Baldwin, so why did you lead me on?!"

"Thats not true! Just listen-"

"As if fooling around my back wasnt enough, you let her stay inside the castle even after I had returned! I mean I get you didnt think you would ever get to do it due to leprosy, but how desperate did you have to be to bed her while I was still in the castle?!"

"ENOUGH!" He roared, face red from rage. "You will calm down right now, or I will make you calm down!"

You looked at him betrayed and hurt, as Baldwin closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his his nose, taking deep breaths to collect himself.

"You've accused me of something. I deserve to explain myself." He stated.

"Charlotte and I were engaged when we were just children. Her father used to work for my father, as a knight. When he was on his deathbed due to getting wounded gravely when he saved my father, he made me promise that I would always take care of Charlotte." He paused before continuing. "When I found out I had leprosy, I broke off our engagement and when she came of age, I found her a suitable noble to marry. Eventually, they had a son. Her husband... he eventually lost all of his land and money in a gamble. So I tried to help Charlotte financially over the years, because I was the one who found her this man. She didnt deserve to be married to such man."

He recalled the events. "One day, Charlotte wrote to me that her husband had fallen sick. Terribly so. He kept on coughing and coughing until he began hacking up blood. My physicians told me that he had pthisis as the Greeks call it, or "consumption."

You remember studying about medival diseases- one of which was "consumption". Or in modern day- "Tuberculosis."

"I tried to help out, but there was no cure. The man died a slow and painful death. Charlotte loved her husband, despite all his faults, so his death did take a toll on her mentally. I continued to support her, but there was only so much I could do as a leper king. Things seemed to be going well until last year, when her son fell sick. The physicians said he was suffering with consumption as well, but it was still in the early stages so they had hope they could treat it. They took his son with them to the infirmary in Byzantine, where the best possible care would be provided for him. I made sure of it." He sighed. "But the odds were not in his favour. I got a letter from the head physician that Charlotte's son would not survive the winter. Charlotte was there with her son, day and night, she'd never leave his side. The physicians told her about her son's life expectancy. As expected, she was devastated, but at least now she could prepare herself and spend the rest of his days together."

"Then I announced our engagement, and I didnt write to Charlotte because I didnt think it would be appropriate to share this news with her at such a pivotal time. However, news must've reached her about my leprosy being cured and before I knew it, she was here. You were still in Egypt when Charlotte came, and she wanted to meet you. At first I thought it was because she wanted to congratulate you, but I found out that it was because she-" Baldwin shook his head, before looking right at you. "She thought you could cure her son."

"What? Why would she-" Of course, everyone thinks youre made of magic because of Baldwin.

"That's not the worst part. Charlotte's son was already dead before she had even reached Jerusalem. The physician informed me of his death, and that he had warned Charlotte of it too, but she still came here instead of being with her son."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "She came here because you asked her to-"

"I didnt! Why would I do that? Especially when you werent even here to help her?" Baldwin took a deep breath before continuing on. "When I informed her of her son's death- She lost it. She lost herself. I just- I promised to take care of her, Y/n."

"So you kissed her? To make her fall in love with you? Was that the plan?"

"I didnt kiss her, she kissed me!" Baldwin gritted out. "Even after her son's death, she wanted to meet you so that you could bring her son back to life. No matter how much I explained that it isnt possible to bring him back, she wouldnt listen. I told her that you're not some sort of witch that cast a spell to cure me-"

"So why did she kiss you?" You cut him off.

Baldwin licked his lips. "Charlotte knew the story of how you cured me. She figured that if she cant get you, then she can have me help her. In her head, she thought that since I drank your water that had your saliva, I had your essence- your healing abilities in me. So, she kissed me."

He could see the realisation dawning on you. Charlotte kissed him to get your "healing power"?

"I didnt push her back- because I was surprised. And then I pitied her. I didnt know how to break it to her again that nothing can bring her son back. That she was all alone now. Because of me. I had her marry that man, who got consumption, and then his son contracted it as well. I am the reason for her losing everything!" His eyes twinkled with tears, but he didnt let one tear slip.

Wait a minute. If Baldwin knew her son was dying and didnt call her here, then-

You closed your eyes. Fucking Guy.

Of course, only he'd be the one to address the letter as "King Baldwin IV". And you already figured out why he called Charlotte.

"We can kill Baldwin by making him sick again" Guy thought that Charlotte would bring her son, or at the very least bring a series of diseases from the Byzantine infirmary to infect Baldwin with.

Fucking idiot.

Baldwin took your hands in his. "Princess, I never cheated on you. I know I should've told you about Charlotte but... I didnt want to burden you. You already are busy trying to find your family and when you returned, you were tired and then you had your flow. I just- I didnt want to pile up more stuff on you." His hand cupped your cheek tenderly. "You know that I love you. You know that my affection for you is real. Thats why it hurt you so much when saw you her kissing me, because deep down, you knew I wouldn't betray you like this."

His blue were firm as he spoke the next words with conviction.

"You are the beginning of my soul. And you are the end of it."

Tears slipped down your face as you felt him kiss your forehead before wrapping you in his arms, continuing to kiss your forehead again and again.

Finally, you wrapped your arms around him, nodding. Accepting.

Sniffling, you pulled away before tugging him to sit on the bed as you began bandaging his shoulder. Fortunately, the wound wasnt too deep, so you didnt need to introduce "sutures" to medieval era.

Baldwin smiled softly as you tied his bandage, taking your hand and pressing a kiss on top of it. "I'm all better now." You smiled sadly.

"What?" He asked you. You sniffled again. "Princess, what is it?" He pulled you to sit on his lap, tapping your chin.

"I slapped you." You reminded him.

He nodded. "I remember."

"I'm sorry." "I know." He smiled assuringly. Honestly, you were so overcome with emotion that you hadnt realised the risk you took. Baldwin could've easily had your head chopped off at the offence.

"You're not mad?" You whispered, peeking at him from your lashes. He hummed thoughtfully. "No, not mad. I am hurt by your lack of trust me in though, but I take half the blame in this as you did see someone kissing me." He grinned at you. "I do know how you can make it up to me though."

You raised a brow.

"How about... you and I..." he tipped your chin to meet his eyes as he leaned close. "... cuddle tonight?"

"You want cuddles?" You asked, lips quirking at his childishness. He nodded excitedly. "Yes. As you know, I am gravely injured, I need all the love and attention from my beloved angel~" You squealed as he pulled you down with him on the mattress, bursting into giggles as he kissed your cheeks again and again.

After 10 minutes or so of you playing with his hair as he dreamily sighed, you suddenly had a question.

"Baldwin?" He hummed. "How did you get an arrow in your shoulder? You went hunting animals with knights."

Baldwin, with his eyes still closed, replied. "If I tell you, you'll get mad."

You tugged at his hair, making him open one eye. "Baldwin~" You warned.

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you." He rested his head on his palm. "Well, since you were being distant to me and the knight commander told me you had housed yourself in the royal chapel under the excuse of "not wanting to make me sick", I figured I need to find a way to make you be close to me..."

Your face dropped at realisation.

"YOU SHOT YOURSELF WITH AN ARROW?!"

He shook his head in disbelief. "No, dont be silly. How would that be even possible?" You sighed in relief.

"I threatened my expert archer to shoot me with an arrow."

-

Sibylla burst through the door as soon as she had heard of her brother's grave injury, only to witness an odd sight:

Baldwin, with his shoulder bandaged, was doing sit-ups in front of Y/n, who was sitting on his bed, glaring at him with angry tears streaming down her face.

"Princess~ I said I'm sorryyyyy" Sibylla giggled, watching her younger sibling whine to you, but he shut up as another tear slipped down your cheek.

So, thoughts?

None of you guessed that reason for the kiss,did you? I better fucking get all the comments and asks or else I'm wreaking havoc

Part 6 is here!

[delirious-donna]

The Demon King & His Princess [Sebastian Michaelis]

an: I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for months and it’s time I had a clear out. This demon could tell me stories any night he wants…

pairing: Sebastian Michaelis (demon king AU) x female reader (princess)

warnings: nightmares, storytelling turned steamy, fantasy AU, smut, NSFW

Masterlist

The darkness was pure—heavy and suffocating. It wrapped like a noose around your slender throat and squeezed tighter and tighter. You couldn’t draw air, couldn’t struggle from the iron-tight hold.

You jolted upright. Fire burned in your lungs as if you had been suffocating in your sleep and you touched feverishly at your neck but felt nothing amiss. Disorientation made your head spin, eyes scanning back and forth in an attempt to make sense of your surroundings and what had happened.

In bed.

You could feel the mattress beneath your backside and legs, the heavy weight of a rich duvet covered your midriff. That was at least a comfort. If the only one you could find. The beat of your heart ached against your ribs. It hurt to take each shuddering breath as if you had broken the surface of icy waters. The air froze in your chest, and you clutched blindly at the sweat-dampened nightgown in desperation.

Your saviour was not far…

A presence at your side made you jump anew, but soon your shoulders sagged with relief as two familiar hands held you tight. The touch was cool and soothing. You let yourself be drawn into a strong body whilst you continued to tremble like the last autumn leaf.

Slowly, and with the utmost care, you were lowered back to the sheets. Soft-spoken words sounded distant, called over the crashing waves of your fear but as the seconds ticked on, they became clearer.

“Come back to me… can you hear me, little one? You are mine, come back.”

Sebastian.

It was Sebastian who pressed his face into your hair and whispered gentle yet firm words into your ear. It was he who wound his arms around your chest and lodged his body tightly against your back. His warmth chased away the shivering chill from your skin and the even beat of his heart that settled your own into a normal rhythm.

“Sebastian…”

“I’m right here,” he soothed in his low authoritative voice, barely above a whisper. Deft fingers stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Your chin tucked low into your chest, a shy shame washing over you for goodness knows why. A nightmare was out of your control after all, so why try to deny it? Sebastian slid a finger between your chin, bringing your face back up to his. At last, you nodded slowly and averted your eyes.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked.

Whatever had caused such a blinding panic had already mostly melted away, the memories new fleeting and entirely disjointed. In honesty, you couldn’t quite recall the events of the dream, other than remembering the sensation of being choked of breath.

“I… can’t remember. I think I’d rather forget.”

You pressed your eyes shut, snuffing out the lone candle on the nightstand that illuminated the darkness of the bedroom. At heart you wished away the sense of lingering panic that beat just beneath the surface, threatening to surface at the smallest jolt.

The Demon King hummed a faint melody, a tune that seemed reminiscent of one you had heard many years prior.

His long dexterous fingers massaged at your skin through your silky nightdress, the midnight black fingernails a stark contrast against the pure white.

“Shall I tell you a tale? It might help you to… forget.”

In your disarray, you missed the faint trace of heat in his voice. Had you noticed, would your answer have been any different? Not likely. Be that as it may, you accepted his offer regardless and his smile was not merely comforting any longer—not that you could see it with your face tucked into his chest.

With a soft sigh, you rolled back your shoulders to better settle yourself into his protective embrace. The flicker of the candle painted long shadows upon the nearest wall, and you glanced up at your handsome beau without a trace of fear. His hair fell in a black curtain around his face, eyes closed as if at rest–although you knew better–and his smile had returned to docile.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who loved to roam the lands her family ruled over. Her curiosity was mischievous and might have been considered reckless for she often wandered unaccompanied.”

Sebastian spoke in soft dulcet tones, and you wondered where this story was headed. It sounded rather familiar, intimately familiar…

“One day,” he continued, aware of your narrowed eyes aimed in his direction but ignoring it in favour of speaking calmly, slowly. “The princess came upon another person out in the forests near her home.

Yet, to her bewilderment he was not a person, but a Demon. She should have been scared, fearful of a creature she had been warned was wicked with only evil in their heart, but she wasn’t.”

He smiled indulgently. Reminiscing fondly at how brave you had been that day. In honesty, he would call it foolish, but luckily for you, this particular Demon was instantly enamoured with you.

“Instead, the sweet yet naïve princess befriended the Demon and soon they would spend hours traversing the lands with the Demon showing her places she didn’t even know existed. Sharing secrets that his kind would likely condemn him for brazenly putting his trust in the young mortal.”

Butterflies erupted in the depths of your stomach, flitting around in energetic bursts at the memory of those long-ago days. The hours that easily slipped into days, the warm sunshine on your face and the excitement of newly discovered secrets. You would forever be grateful for the trust Sebastian placed into the cradle of your hands, the knowledge he chose to share when you warned it might be frowned upon.

He pressed a kiss to your temple as if he sensed your gratitude. “It wasn’t long before an attraction grew between the pair, and in short, the Demon was besotted by the exquisite beauty of the princess and the purity of her heart and soul. At this realisation, he revealed himself as not simply a Demon, for he was the Demon King. A Demon King in love with a mortal princess.”

You squirmed against his strong body, heat warming your cheeks. Sebastian wouldn’t allow you to turn in his arms, tucking you further into his hold. He planted his hands on the soft curves of your waist whilst he continued to purr his story into your ear.

“Sebastian…”

He shushed you softly, his lips traversing the gentle slope of your shoulder to press a gentle kiss to your sweet-smelling neck. You could feel his smile against your skin, knowing and growing wider when your pulse began to race faster.

“The Demon King rejoiced in the knowledge that his attraction and love were returned in equal measure, and the night he first took her to his bed was a night he would never forget… Not in all his long years of existence had a night so special occurred and might never again.”

You could only moan, the sound long and drawn out when his hands roamed your plush curves. One palm stroked up and down your side until the fairly modest hem of your nightgown was drawn high enough that his fingertips could ghost lazy patterns on your skin.

The other cupped your breasts lightly through the shimmery fabric, his warm breath caressing and causing you to shiver deliciously from his attention. These shivers were different to the ones caused by your earlier nightmare—now long forgotten. They tingled pleasantly and led to a growing wetness between your clenched thighs.

“The princess was supple beneath his touch and reciprocating to his actions. Despite the power he wielded, the Demon was gentle in his exploration. He whispered of the naughty deeds he wished to enact, and of how he desperately wanted to open her up like a blooming flower to bathe in her arousal. When his touch reached her most intimate area, the Demon King had growled aloud, finding her wet and wanting. His restraint tested in a way he hadn’t experienced to date.”

Sebastian’s melodious words mirrored his actions to perfection. A low growl that sounded like distant thunder echoed within his chest, and you gasped—thrilled. One bold finger swiped over the seat of your cotton panties and found how your lust had soaked it through.

Your eyelids fluttered shut, hips undulating eagerly. Waiting… wanting… just like the princess.

You reached out an arm, blindly searching behind and finally sinking your hand into his long lustrous hair. You played with the strands, tugging them impishly until your fingers delved deeper so your nails could scratch against his scalp.

“His cock had throbbed for the princess, straining against his undergarments and desperate to find solace in her tempting heat. Of course, he had to ensure she was properly prepared for such an intrusion,” he whispered, pausing for a moment to tug on your earlobe with his teeth.

His hips drove upwards, making you painfully aware of how hard and ready he was right now, never mind in the story. A dark chuckle floated to your ear; the amusement halted the subtle glide of your lower half, but it was only a moment until he guided your hips back into a slow rhythm against his clothed cock.

“The Demon King had ripped through the princess’s panties to her shrieks of surprise, for surely she had not known the strength of the male she had allowed to touch and taste her virgin body.” You groaned in memory. How nervous you had been, but so very ready, almost desperate.

“Her breasts were perfection, filling his palms exactly. With pebbled nipples so sensitive to the fingers that played with them, rolling the delicate buds between finger and thumb before tasting them in turn. A firm hand supported her spine which she arched to press herself further into his greedy mouth. The suckling sensation made her dizzy and mewl like a cat in heat. He turned her skin sticky and shiny with his spit, biting and nipping at such tender flesh until the princess tugged boldly on his mane of hair.”

Your fingers twitched in mischievous want to fist his silken black hair, to haul his sinful lips to yours and silence the story in favour of creating a new one. “The lovers spent an age exploring their bodies, learning what made them moan and what caused their toes to curl in delight. When it was time to taste her sweetness, the Demon King felt like a youngster again, worried he might come undone before he could take her fully. Never had he seen a pussy so pretty and perfect–made for him alone.”

On these words, Licht finally rolled you to your back and let your lips unite. The yearning between you was palpable, your fingers grasping and clutching at his strong shoulders until you were twisted like ivy around his lithe frame.

The brush of his cock–still concealed behind his pyjama trousers–against your bare slit was electrifying. The ripped cotton from where his finger had pushed through the fabric clung to your slickness, and you did indeed rub on him like a cat in heat.

Sebastian worked his hand between your bodies, spreading your open and smearing the sticky strands of your arousal over your skin until he was toying with your jittering little clit. His mouth was hungry slanted atop yours, devouring and commanding the space you shared.

You weren’t quite the shy little flower he described in the story; experience had strengthened your resolve and bolstered your confidence. Enough so that you sucked his bottom lip between your own, drawing the skin taut before releasing it with an audible pop. He growled low in his throat, admiring your shuttered eyelids and smug little smile.

Gods, how you wanted him, but he broke away, much to your frustration, to continue his story. A slow methodical finger circled your soaked cunt, grinning when you clenched around nothing but air.

“The enamoured Demon softly stroked over the princess’s unsullied silky folds, so pretty and engorged from the pumping blood of her desire. Slick rushed to meet his fingers and he couldn’t resist sucking one into his mouth for a taste. With that, he was addicted. He knew that he would never get enough.”

Sebastian held back a moan as he spoke the words. He could feel the weight of them, the truth that lay behind each syllable. To this day, he wasn’t certain you understood the magnitude of his love. He was a creature who most believed incapable of loving anyone but themselves, but he could find no other way to describe how he felt about you.

“Please…”

Eyes of regal burgundy flashed in the dark room and it shook a breathy whine from your throat. On a slow thrust, two fingers slide inside to stroke your velvet walls. His honeyed voice deepened, one forearm braced directly next to your head whilst a knee spread your legs further apart and his fingers fucked you with strokes that quickened hastily. Sebastian was losing control and that tightened the desire in your belly all the more.

“Mm, that’s it. You’re sucking me in, can you feel that? Such a greedy pussy, you want something other than my fingers, beloved?” he asked with a smirk.

You rolled your neck against the fluffy pillows, sinking deeper and deeper into decadent pleasure. “Mhm, please,” you admitted, biting deep into your bottom lip.

“The Demon King brought the beautiful princess to orgasm using only his mouth and dexterous fingers. Stretching out her tight walls in readiness for his throbbing cock. How he had hissed when she had tentatively touched it, dainty fingers encircling the girth and giving an exploratory pump with her fist.”

As he narrated, you complied with the words and reached down to free him from the confines of his sleepwear. Your thumb swiped through the beads of arousal and used it to coat his shaft.

Sebastian was heavy in your hold, a groan echoing from the depths of his chest. “Do–do you remember how the story ended?” he asked, thrusting into your grip at the same pace he thrust his slick-soaked fingers into your pussy.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” you managed, sounding far more composed than you actually felt, “But I’m certain that the devastatingly handsome Demon King–you missed that part out–made love to the princess until the sun broke over the horizon.”

With ease, Sebastian withdrew his fingers and sucked them into his mouth until they were clean. His weeping cockhead notched at your entrance and your hips strained to force him inside.

“Mm, indeed. Let’s reenact that part, shall we?”

His pelvis met yours in one forceful push. Your spine bowed off the mattress when his head dipped to suckle on your pert nipples through the taut satin of your gown.

Your eyes roamed his handsome face, his expression veiled as it often was, but it slipped when your legs wound his lean waist to push him even deeper. The mask dropped to expose the control he was struggling to hold on to. The Demon King was leashed to your hand, a power he had never given to anyone else in his centuries of existence. He was yours as much as you were his.

Sebastian remained true to his word; he worshipped you exactly as he had on your very first time together. Nothing could truly portray what had transpired on that fateful night, the unity and promises made, but it still brought tears to your eyes to be reminded. Your Demon lover stole the air from your lungs, the sanity from your mind and the love from your heart.

From that night forward, you made a conscious effort to ask for more bedtime stories and not only on the occasions you had nightmares.

What wicked words could fall from the prettiest of lips…