#((so my mood took a fucking plummet again))

[sourpatchys]

•Pretty Boy•

You weren't sure when and you weren't sure how— but you were definitely falling for the blue eyed archer.

You'd been with the group since the beginning, doing your best to survive with them, but completely unsure on how to interact with them.

Even before, you weren't much of a people person, always enjoying your alone time just a little too much.

But somehow, you're alone time wasn't so lonely anymore— and you couldn't say you minded.

You started taking watch with Daryl as a way to get away from the chaos in the prison. One person was better than several— that's what you told yourself.

But now— looking over and seeing his unkept hair flutter just a bit in the wind— you weren't so sure.

It was cold, the hot Georgia heat plummeted at night, the humidity storing itself away for a few hours, waiting for its chance to strike once more.

He was wearing a god awful poncho, and you'd told him as such when you'd sat down together an hour prior.

"I'm not lookin' to win a fashion show anytime soon."

You couldn't even argue. But the absurdity of it all did make you laugh just a little.

The silence you had between you was comfortable, no one was talking because neither of you needed too— completely content.

It was somewhat of a routine at this point.

You'd crack a joke about what he was wearing, maybe about how long his hair was getting, (it was curling out by his ears making him look like a fox) or he'd do the same to you— and then you'd just sit, and watch.

Sometimes you'd fall asleep, the cool air and the breeze reminding you of your old box fan that never had a days rest.

When that happened you somehow always woke up back in your cell.

You never brought it up, Daryl didn't seem to want to talk about it, and you didn't want your curiosity to stop it from happening.

It was like a fun little adventure, a piece of the old world you got to keep with you. Why would you ever want it to stop?

A particularly cold gust of wind blew into you, and while it wasn't as harsh as the cold from last winter, it still made you shiver.

"Cold?"

You almost didn't hear him, his voice was so soft.

"Yeah, I guess I should've brought my own ugly poncho."

He scoffed at you, a faint line of a smile on the corner of his lips.

You had expected that to be it, a little light hearted banter to keep the mood up.

But Daryl apparently had other ideas.

He sat up straight, pulling off his crossbow— shaking out of the poncho in question.

Within seconds he had it draped around your shoulders, a content look on his face that told you he felt like he'd done a wonderful service.

"Ya can have this one for now."

Reaching your hands up, you wrapped the fabric closer into your body— the faint smell of, what could only be described as *Daryl* wasping into your nostrils.

You supposed it wasn't your least favorite smell.

"Thank you."

He hummed, turning away from you again— pulling his bow into his lap.

You stared at him, without the extra layer you could see him fully. The build up of grime on his arms, the rise and fall of his chest.

It was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

It was a stupid notion to make, you'd  seen him plenty, hell— you'd known the man for probably over a year at this point.

But something about seeing him in the night sky had you unable to turn away.

He's beautiful

"What er' you lookin at." He griped, glancing your way with something not far off from irritation.

It definitely wasn't a question. But you answered anyways.

"You."

He leaned back on his hands, turning his head towards you, staring you in the eyes. Like he was looking for something.

"Why?"

It was a question this time— and it took you a moment to process. His voice was soft, much softer than you'd ever heard it before.

His walls weren't up right now.

"Because I think you're pretty."

You saw a look of— bewilderment? Crossed his face. A look that said— "what the fuck are you talking about".

It honestly made you giggle.

"I ain't pretty."

That got a real laugh out of you. Which seemed to only confuse him more.

"I think you are." You said, in between soft chuckles.

Scoffing he turned away, but you could see the wheels in his head turning, trying to figure out what to say next— or if he should say anything at all.

Seeing Daryl Dixon speechless was something you'd pride yourself on for years to come— you were sure of it.

You were feeling quite brave tonight— and maybe a bit mischievous. So you leaned into his space, placing one of your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance as you shuffled to your knees to face him.

"I can prove it"

He tensed under your touch, as if you were made of fire and he was afraid to get burnt.

He didn't say anything, just looking at you— that same wonderstruck look in his eyes. His walls still hadn't been build back up— he was allowing himself to be vulnerable.

Just for you it seemed.

Bringing your other hand to his cheek, you felt him flinch slightly.

Suddenly he knew what you were about to do.

And suddenly he realized— he didn't want to stop you.

Leaning down, you bright your lips to his. They were chapped— but they still had an underlying softness you hadn't expected.

It was just a peck, and you were satisfied with how it went down, leaning back on your heels to look at him.

"See—" you started, a slight chuckle already forming.

He looked at you, the last bit of his walls breaking down entirely at the look in your eyes.

"I only kiss pretty boys."

[short-honey-badger]

Misbehavior

Heyyoo! Back again and with something different. I've been in the JJk Fandom for a while, but this is my first time writing for it. This was for a friend, but I wanted everyone else to enjoy it, too. Oh, and if the cursed technique that the reader uses looks familiar, I did read a fic recently where the character had what I used as their technique. I hope the author doesn't mind if they see this! I can't remember who it was!

Pairing: Gojo Saturo x Reader

Warnings: Jealous and possessive behavior. Some gaslighting. We've got a fluff ending and a smut ending, so this can go either way. Face Fucking. Gojo isn't very nice. Enjoy!

@goth-mami-writer

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You have been a part of Jujitsu society for two years now. you'd been picked up by none other than Gojo Saturo, the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer. He'd tracked you down and plopped in the seat across from you at the little cafe just down the road from your apartment. You had jumped at the sudden intrusion and glared at the white-haired man sitting across from you. Gojo proceeded to call you out on the cursed energy that flowed through your body and asked what your technique was. You had shrugged, telling the odd man that you didn't know what he was talking about. It was the end for you after that, Gojo grinning at the untapped potential you had no idea you even possessed.

After that, you learned all about Jujutsu Society and became a part of it as Gojo's personal assistant/student protégé. The elders had surprisingly agreed to Saturo's suggestion that You stay with him after figuring out your cursed technique. It was nullification, the perfect technique to counter Gojo's own. In the Elders' minds, you were the perfect candidate to keep him from going overboard since you could essentially turn off his limitless. However, you knew that there was nothing that would stop Gojo Saturo from getting anything he wanted.

Gojo took you under his wing, teaching You everything you needed to know to survive in the jujutsu world. He made rules that would keep his key safe and keep you close to him so that no one else would be able to use you against him. Just the thought of someone else teaching you left a bad taste in his mouth.

Speaking of his perfect little assistant, Gojo wondered where in the world you were. He had strict rules that You weren't allowed to go on missions with other sorcerers, citing his excuse of you not being ready to go on missions without his protection despite knowing how to fight for yourself.

A bag of sweets hung from his arm as he spun in a circle, covered blue eyes assessing the entirety of the common room at Jujutsu High for You. He left the common room when nothing stuck out at him and lopped off to your personal room. He kicked it open with a wide grin that immediately fell when he realized that you weren't here either.

Humming, he turns on his foot and searches for the first years. You enjoyed spending time with them whenever Gojo was off on his own more dangerous solo missions.

He finds them in the training yard, laughing when he spots Nobora sending Yuuji to the ground with a well-done grapple, "My lovely students!" He greets and is careful to keep any irritation out of his tone. There was no need for them to think that anything was wrong, after all, "Have any of you seen _?"

"Last I heard, Nanami took them out on a mission," Megumi mentions, and Saturo is glad that he has mastered his control over his cursed energy. None of his students sensed the way his mood had immediately plummeted, annoyance coiling hot in his chest at the thought of Nanami having your break one of his rules. One of the most important ones.

"Did he now?" He murmurs and sways side to side as he calms himself down, "Ya know when they are supposed to be back?"

Megumi shrugs and eyes the older man. He and his senpai had an odd relationship, one that no one wanted to touch with a ten-foot pole. They knew that You was safe, though, so that's all the first years cared about. you were their friend, and none of them wanted Gojo Saturo to ruin your, "Dunno. Probably today? They left two days after you did." He finally says, tone uninterested as usual.

Two days after he did? Gojo had been gone a week, so that meant that you and Nanami had been alone together for five days. Five days was far too long. Anger joins his annoyance, and Gojo is hard-pressed not to teleport to the Elders and demand why they had sent you with someone that wasn't Him. The entire school knew that you belonged with him.

"Hmm. Good to know." He says and turns to walk away, a frown creasing his face the moment his students can't see it. "Keep up the good work and send You to me if you see your first, ya?" He asks, and Megumi nods.

"Sure thing, Sensei," he says and watches his teacher leave before his attention is caught by his friends once more.

Saturo goes to You’ room and sits on the bed. He sets his bag of goodies down and then kicks off his shoes. His lanky frame drops on the mattress with a thud, and he gets comfortable. Gojo had no problem waiting for his precious assistant right here.

------------LINE BREAK------------

Gojo perked up the moment he heard footsteps coming up the hallway. He forced himself to relax and appear nonchalant despite the way his heartbeat picked up. He had calmed down a little from waiting for so long, but now that You and Nanami were back. His annoyance from earlier flared up like an angry cat. He waits, all six eyes trained on the door as his assistant and Nanami stop outside your door.

"Thank you again for accompanying me on the mission. You made it much more…enjoyable." Came the deep voice of his fellow Sorcerer. Gojo frowns heavily at the tone the blonde uses. It's fond and full of affection. Your response doesn't help.

"Of course, Kento. It's not like I was doing anything with Gojo away," you say, and Gojo sucks in a deep breath. you're on a first-name basis with Nanami, but you still haven't called him by his first name. He'd give anything to hear you say Saturo in your pretty voice.

"Mhm. You do know that you aren't stuck with him, right, You?" Nanami asks, and Gojo actually sits up at that. How dare he? The blonde knew how Saturo felt about his TA and knew that you were his. Saturo had found you and brought you up to the confident Sorcerer you are now.

Saturo hears your shuffle on the other side of the door, manicured hand landing on the handle and twisting, "Of course I know," you is saying as you opens the door and Gojo spreads his legs, elbows resting on his knees and chin propped on top of his folded hands. He sees You freeze for half a second when you catch sight of him on your bed, "Oh," your face flares in a blush, "Speak of the devil."

Nanami puyous the door open further, scowling behind his glasses when he catches sight of Gojo in his coworker's room. He crosses his arms, and Gojo catches You' glance at the other man, dark eyes scanning his thicker frame for a split second before landing on Saturo again.

"You do know that it's inappropriate to wait inside someone else's room?" Kento rumbles lowly, and everyone present could feel the disappointment in his tone, but Gojo could care less about what Nanami thought right now.

"Do you know that it's rude to steal someone else's assistant?" He snaps right back and can't keep the cruel tone out of his voice.

You shuffle between the two men, obviously uncomfortable with the rising tension between them. You knew that you'd broken one of the important rules that Gojo had set for you, but you also knew that Nanami was strong, too, and could keep you safe if your technique fluctuated.

"You aren't a thing to be owned," the blonde says and flicks his eyes down to the young woman. He is tempted to just take you away from Gojo, but then he would be no better than the white-haired man.

Before Saturo could exclaim otherwise, You spoke up, "I'm fine, Nanami-San," you said and gave the tall man a small smile, "You don't have to worry about me. I know that both of you have my best interests at heart." You say and angle your tone at Gojo, eyebrow ticking up at him.

The white-haired man gapes at your, scoff rolling off his tongue and a pout scrunching his face, "Of course I do." He snaps, affronted that anyone would think otherwise.

Nanami sighs, punching the bridge of his nose. He would never understand the dynamic these two had, "Fine. Just promise that you will come straight to me if he ever does anything…undesirable."

His wording has Gojo laughing. How could he, Gojo Saturo, ever do something undesirable? Only someone as stuck up as Nanami would think that of him.

"Okay, okay," you say. you desperately want this entire interaction to end quickly, "I promise I'll come straight to you, Kento."

Saturo sobers up almost instantly when he hears you say his first name, "Alright. Well. Thanks for delivering my assistant. See ya later, Nanamin!" He exclaims and then promptly grabs You by the wrist and drags you into the room and then slams the door in Nanami's face.

The TA and teacher listen as Nanami sighs in annoyance before walking away, steps heavier than usual, and shows off how much Gojo gets under his skin.

"You didn't have to slam the door," you comment dryly, and Saturo turns to give you all of his attention.

"No, but I wanted to," he quips and plops back down on the bed. He crosses his arms and watches as his assistant sits down on the stool of your vanity. Behind his blindfold, his eyes trail up your slender legs, pale and creamy, just begging for him to leave handprints behind. He is glad that the female uniform came with an optional skirt.

You huff and cross your own arms, "You are upset with me," you say, and Gojo gasps dramatically, hand spraying over his chest in a "how dare I" move. However, he isn't denying it, so you know that trouble would still be coming.

"Maybe. Nanami did have you break the rule," he points out, and his pout becomes exaggerated, "Unless you wanted to go with him. Is that what it is? Don't need Gojo when Kento is there to protect you," his tone drips in mean sarcasm, but underneath it all, there is a line of hurt that You can barely hear.

The young woman sighs, hand sliding through your dark hair and looking away from your teacher. Guilt flooded your system, and you frowned, "I'm sorry. Of course, I still need you, Gojo," you said quietly. How could you not need him when you still had so much to learn?

Gojo stands suddenly, stepping close to You and reaching one long-fingered hand out to tuck his knuckles under your chin. He raises your face, and he leans down close enough that he can feel your breath on his face. He can smell you from here, sweet coffee and the light perfume you like to wear, "Do you, You? Do you really need me?" He mocks.

your face explodes in a blush. Sure, Gojo was always handy and had no concept of personal space, but it wasn't often when this happened. When he got so upset with you that he broke out the other rules.

you swallow harshly, "I do need you," you whisper, and your eyes flicker across his bandana. It makes you nervous with him so close.

A mean smile curls his mouth up at the corners, "Then why do you still call me Gojo?" He demands, and green jealousy colors his voice, "When you call him Kento," he snarls the name and holds his assistant still when You flinch back.

You bite your lip. Ohhh. Gojo was jealous. you weren't sure how to handle that, especially not when the man wouldn't let you go. So, you swallow and tell him the truth.

"Nanami asked me to call him by his first name," you admits to him and flicks over his face for anything that would give how he felt away, "You've never asked me to call you by yours," you point out and Saturo casts his mind back.

Gojo frowns. You aren't wrong. He's never outright asked you to say his first name, but that shouldn't matter! Not when they have such a strong and unique relationship. He scoffs and leans away, letting You go and rocking back on his heels.

"Well, I want you to call me Saturo from now on," He hums and shrugs, "Most of the time anyway." He amends after a moment and then stands straight. A shit-eating grin ghosts over his face, and he suddenly looms over You, his presence filling the entire room all at once, "I still like it when you call me Sir."

He watches his TA flush all the way down to your toes. He cocks his head to the side, grin widening when your thighs press together. He slides a hand through your hair, tugging it down so that you stare up at him. Saturo admires your as an idea comes to mind, "Think you can show me how sorry you are?"

This wouldn't be the first time that Gojo pulled something like this. He had guilt-tripped You before into getting what he wanted, and this wouldn't be the last time eityour.

"Y-yes, Sir," you gasps softly, and Gojo brings up his other hand to caress your face, thumb tapping against your lip and then stroking the plush flesh. He takes his time, making his naughty assistant wait as he explores your face.

“Good, Let’s start correcting these misbehaviors then,” Saturo murmurs and then pulls away. You licks your dry lips and watch your teacher dig around in the plastic bag that you just now noticed. He makes a soft disappointed noise when he realizes that the chocolates he’d bought earlier have now melted.

“I was so excited to share these with you_,” Saturo coos your name, condescension dripping from his voice as he turns back around to present you with a finger covered in melted chocolate. He sucks it into his mouth with a hum,” Huh, still tastes good. You should try some. It would be a shame to let it go to waste,” Gojo’s tone shifts, becoming playful in an instant.

“What?” You choked out, eyes going wide, and you hopped off your stool to get some distance between the two of them, “No! No, you aren’t going to start this, Saturo,” you were tired and sore from the mission with Nanami, definitely not in the mood for a game of cat and mouse with your petty teacher.

Saturo laughed, a devilish grin on his face as he gave chase, “Start what? I have no idea what you are talking about,” He says casually and steps around the furniture with ease. He is so much stronger and bigger than you are, and it makes him want to keep you close. Makes the strange, aloof man want to tuck this special girl safe away from the fear in this world. You Spade is one of his few weaknesses in life, and Gojo Saturo had learned to keep those close.

He gets the upper hand when you make the mistake of going near your bed. you gasp when he appears at your side in an instant, pushing you down on the blankets and sitting back on his heels, long legs bracketing the young woman and trapping you in between his legs.

“Ha!,” Saturo crows in victory and grins down at you. He suddenly needs to see you, so he slips his thumb under his wrap and slips it up and off, tossing it behind him. He could always find it later, “I think I deserve a reward,” Gojo murmurs.

You stare up at the man who had introduced you to this world. He looked a sight with his hair tousled around his eyes, the fine strands covering his striking blue eyes just enough. It was unfair how attractive, how downright hot this man was. And he knew it.

“You are insufferable,” you sigh and flop into the mattress, letting the familiar springs take your weight. You raise a hand and poke the man's chest, “Jealous and possessive, needy even,” you poked him with each word, and Gojo just shrugs. He is shameless.

“So? Would you have it any other way?” He demands and cocks a brow down at your. He leans in, close just like he was last time, but this time there isn’t anything in his way. The strongest sorcerer knows the answer by the way your pale cheeks blush and your dark eyes dart away from his own, “Answer me,” Gojo demands, and this time You know to give your teacher an answer.

“No, Sir,” you whisper and sucks in a sharp breath when his hand catches your jaw. Gojo angles your face to his own, and You watch, breathless and starstruck as his pupils dilate to pinpricks. He licks his lips, and you watch the wet muscle disappear back into his mouth.

“That’s what I thought,” Saturo praises and his grip turns soft, fingers sliding up into your dark hair, “That deserves a reward,” he states and then he is kissing you to within an inch of your life.

Spade makes a startled sound in the back of your throat before sighing and easily surrendering into the kiss. His lips move expertly against your own, pushing and teasing the soft flesh. His tongue soon joins the fray, shoving past your lips so that he can finally taste you.

Gojo grunts, hand tightening in Your hair so that he can get the angle just right and properly shove his tongue down your throat. He needs you to remember that you just can’t break his rules without thinking of him. He would never, ever hurt his key. you were far too precious to him, but he could ruin your. Make your never go a day without being able to think about him. Gojo Saturo would become everything to you.

His assistant choked briefly before sucking a harsh breath through your nose. Good. Last time, he’d been shoved away and glared at for not stopping. The kiss turns sloppy, spit leaking from between their sealed lips, and when he finally does decide to stop, a string of saliva connects them until it breaks when you lick your lips.

They stare at one another, and then Saturo softens and leans in again, stealing a few more sweet kisses from the young woman and then untangling his hand from your hair. You lay down, and Gojo follows, tucking his head against your chest and listening to your heartbeat. He swallows thickly, and his grip tightens on You.

“Don’t do that again, okay?” Gojo says tone firm, and You hold in a long-suffering sigh. The special grade sorcerer squeezed his key, “Be upset with me all you want. It’s all to keep you safe.”

“I know, Saturo,” you murmur and stare at the ceiling. How you craved this man. He had wrapped your mind and body in his entire being, and you had let him. Had easily given up any kind of control to the strongest man you knew.

“Long as you know,” He grumbles and buries his face in your chest, and you slide a hand into his hair to pet the white strands, “I can’t lose you too.”

---------LINE BREAK-----------

SMUT VERSION

“Good, Let’s start correcting these misbehaviors then,” Saturo murmurs and then pulls away. You lick your dry lips and watch your teacher dig around in the plastic bag that you just now noticed. He makes a soft disappointed noise when he realizes that the chocolates he’d bought earlier have now melted.

“I was so excited to try these with you, but you weren’t youre,” Gojo sighs dejectedly and destroys the bag and everything in it with a flare of cursed energy. You jump at the suddenness of it and eyes your teacher, “Oh well, I’ve got something just as nice to share with you.”

You cleared your dry throat, nerves taking root when Saturo cocked his head in consideration, “You still want to show me how sorry you are?” He asks, and you nod quickly. It isn’t nice when Gojo is mad at you. He makes it his goal to make your life a living hell.

“Good, get on your knees then,” the strongest sorcerer orders, and you look at him dumbfounded for half a second, and Gojo snaps his fingers loudly, “Don’t make me repeat myself. You’ve not been a very good girl, don’t you know that?”

The sudden change in attitude has You falling to your knees with a soft whine. It wasn’t often when Gojo got like this, but it filled you with nervous anticipation every time. your teacher stared down at you before reaching up and sliding his blindfold off and tossing it behind him. He needed to be able to see all of this.

“Come on, Baby,” He urges and You slowly reach for his pants, “I know you know what to do,” Gojo throbs in his pants, and he needs to be in your mouth yesterday.

you swallow as you unbuttons the dark slacks and tug them down. There is a damp spot on his briefs, and you admire just how big Saturo is. His hand tangling in your hair knocks You out of your thoughts, and you get to work, grabbing the elastic and slipping the briefs down to meet his pants.

Saturo grabs the base of his dick, stroking himself with a groan and you watch, enraptured as he teases himself until precum beads at the tip, “Lick it,” Saturo ordered, and You opened your mouth, tongue lolling out and lapping at the salty mess. Gojo groans and his hand tightens in your hair, pulling tight and forcing the head of his cock into your mouth, “Now suck, you know how I like it, Baby.”

The young woman closes your eyes, jaw already beginning to ache at the girl inside of your mouth. Gojo Saturo was not a small man in any way, and that included his dick. you took him down the best you could, precum and spit mixing togetyour and making an embarrassing slick noise in your quiet room.

“Could Kento fill your mouth like I do?” Gojo demands and his hips jump forward, causing You to choke and grab his thigh for dear life. His hand tightens to the point of pain and your eyes fill with tears, not having expected the sudden rough handling, “Think he could Fuck you as I do?” he snarls meanly.

Saturo doesn’t expect you to try and answer, instead, he begins to thrust, hips pistoning back and forth as he fucks his assistant's mouth. He would make sure that you would never forget who you belonged to, who had made you who you were today. Gojo whines low in his throat when he gets close and he looks down, grabbing You’ jaw with his free hand and squeezing, “Look at me. I want you to watch me come down your throat.”

You force your eyes open, heart fluttering in your chest when you lock with Saturo’s blue ones. There is nothing in your world but him right now, and the petty bastard knows it. He squeezes your jaw again and speeds up, pace becoming sloppy as a mix of spit and precome spill from between your lips and his fat cock.

“That’s it. Remember, You,” Saturo growls, and the young woman struggles to hang on to his words, “I’m the one who gave you this. I’m the one who protects you. You are mine,” his voice turns ragged and strained and your throat burns from how deep this man has forced himself, “My key, my weakness, mine,’ he snarls the last word like an animal, teeth bared and then his is coming.

Coming so much that You choke immediately, Saturo refuses to pull out, hand tight and tangled in your dark hair, “Swallow it, I know you can do it. Say you’re sorry, Baby,” he coos and hisses at the feeling of his assistant swallowing around him. He loses his grip on your hair, petting the tangled strands as you milks him dry for all he is worth, “That’s it. You're such a good assistant me.”

Saturo lets go and You pull away with a cough, face flushing as you struggle to catch your breath. You wipe your face with the sleeve of your uniform jacket and make a mental note to do the laundry later.

Before you can stand on your own, Gojo drops and picks you up with ease, depositing you on the bed as he fixes up his pants and then stands beside you. He disappears and then is back seconds later with a bottle of water and a packet of sweets. He hands both of them over and then sits behind his assistant, leaning your back so that You rest against his chest. He curls an arm around your waist and tucks you close.

“Don’t do that again. You’re mine, you got that,” Saturo whispers and presses soft kisses to the back of your neck and hair. You could get whiplash with how quickly this man changed moods, but you nodded dutifully anyway. This punishment could have been a lot worse after all.

[sasukimimochi]

-

Chapter 1, Promise

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (You are here). Part 4 Part 5

Chapter 2, You Are My Home (Coming soon...)

To see full warnings, go to part 1. Warnings for this part: mention of blood, mention of nudity, Violence.

Mood song for Part 3

-

Ch 1, Part 3:

· ✦ The Yiling Laozu ✦ ·

His body felt light.

“Mm…” He shifted, though he couldn’t pull away from whatever was holding him. “Mn?” He frowned, opening his eyes hazily to see nothing but clouds below him. Huh. 

He was moving up, not down…So he wasn’t falling. How did he even get here? He didn’t have much time to think about this however, as whatever had him suspended snapped. Suddenly pain bloomed in his back, grimacing as his body fell out of the sky.

“Hahaha! Got another one!”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes snapped open as a large demon in red and white grabbed onto whatever was embedded in his back. “Wen Zhuliu! Let's go, Take that other one-”

Wei Wuxian started to thrash violently as soon as he realized something was very wrong.

“Oh fuck he’s awake! Zhuliu!!”

It’d been so long since his body and mind cooperated, and like a quake in his bones his thoughts screamed.

Fight.

Fight!

FIGHT!

He twisted his body and clocked the greasy demon right in the face, and he was free momentarily again. As he plummeted towards the earth, He realized his body was billowing in ethereal blues and golds. He held out his hand in front of him, trying to figure out what was happening through squinting eyes trying to shield themselves from the whipping winds.

His form was nothing like what he was expecting. Had he really passed on? His heart leapt, the rosy jade of his husband’s smile flying into his mind's eye. If he was alive and in the next life, he needed to get away from these demons!

“Zhuliu! He’s got a core, do something about it!” The greasy one hissed, flying after the plummeting spirit but keeping a safe distance.

Wei Wuxian glared, gathering spiritual energy in his fist. He punched plenty of corpses before when he had no weapon, and he was ready to whirl this into the nearest body that approached him.

However, he was up against two demons.

In moments, he was restrained again and this time, as the loud demon held him so tightly he thought his arms might break, the other hit him square in the chest with a hand coated in red and black magic.

Wei Wuxian gasped, breath stuttering as he felt something within him twist, snap, and rupture. He went slack, breath fluttering in panic. He didn’t know what just happened, but all of his fight was sucked right out of him abruptly. What did they do to him?!

As the three flew into the gaping maw of a cave of flames, a feeling of loss enveloped him, the image of his husband’s smile fading from his mind like it’d been obscured by fog. Lan Zhan…

Then, he felt white-hot pain.

“Aaaahhhh!!!”

He wrenched his arms free, landing in a crumpled heap as he took his head in his hands and thrashed on the ground. It felt like his head was going to split open! For a moment he wondered if it had, as he felt something hot flow over his hands in gushing waves. The pain traveled down his spine, throwing his hands to the grass- grass? below and breathing raggedly until that hit its peak too. In moments he was surrounded by wriggling tails wreathed in blue flames, his new, naked body trembling in their heat.

He could hear the laughing of that greasy demon just barely past the blood rushing in his ears in pulses, and it made him so…angry. 

These demons wanted him to be one of their kind and had successfully taken advantage of him, dragging him through the gates of hell. So now, he could no longer ascend. He had been so close to him…A fresh wave of tears rolled down his face, his head tilting slightly until the two demons were in his sight once more. The quiet one was staring at him while the other was preparing something- it looked like a metal collar.

They robbed him of his chance to see his husband again.

They wanted to rob him of his freedom now, too?

Ha. Haha…hahahaha!

Anger turned into something darker and twisted in his form like poison, forcing him to stand up on shaking legs. The quiet one- Wen Zhuliu if he remembered and heard right- looked much more serious than his companion, and elbowed the other demon as Wei Wuxian finished standing up.

The two were now staring as Wei Wuxian became eerily still, the only movement left in his tails.

“What? Is he done screaming already?”

Wei Wuxian’s head tilted slightly, pupils shrinking into slits as searing blue hues broke off in fractals from his eyes. “Do you miss the sound of screams?” His voice was cold and quiet, but clearly its presence was not welcome as both demons suddenly became much more serious.

Wen Zhuliu spoke quietly, realizing the problem they now had on their hands quickly, “You should have put it on him while he was still transforming.”

“It’s two against one, we’ll be fine!” The greasy demon sneered. “How was I supposed to know it’d be over so quickly? Let's just shackle him and go-” He was abruptly cut off as Wei Wuxian felt a surge of power rise up from where his core once was, clawed hands slamming the two demons down by their throats.

His tails whipped out and held down their arms, the collar falling out of the smaller demon’s hands as he did so.

Wei Wuxian said nothing as he watched the two struggle underneath him, eyes narrowing in a dark, dangerous fury. “A quick death isn't enough for you.”

The screams could be heard for miles.

Coated in blood, Wei Wuxian turned his head towards his now to-be home.

the sketch i did a while ago for this scene ;) it's not completely accurate but i'll probably change it a little when i actually post COI properly.

see you in the next part!

See other COI/MDZS content here on my masterpost. ❤Art for the banner is here.

[pastelroyce]

Before I Go, Let Me Say This

My part of the N7 Exchange event for queenofthejungle on Ao3. They had a lot of top tier ship suggestions but I was in the mood for mshenko (rather, when am I not in the mood?) with suggestions of angst and two dudes in love. This was my take on that!

Title: Before I Go, Let Me Say This

Summary: Shepard is on his way to the Omega-4 relay, but finds himself thinking about Kaidan and Horizon.

Words: 1,397

Rated: T (language)

Relationship: Male Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Additional tags: light angst, angst with feels

Also available on Ao3

.

Commander Shepard was approximately 5 hours away from what could possibly be the last mission of his (second) life, yet in that moment replying to a damn letter was proving to be a more monumental task. The blinking cursor on his open message terminal mocked him from his position on the bed. Another screen behind it blocked out the rooftop view port of the Normandy, the letter Kaidan sent after their encounter on Horizon.

When he read the header for the first time his heart seized, petrified into a heavy weight, plummeted into the depths of his gut and lightened into a flutter all in the span of two seconds. It took one day to open the message and another three days to read it in full. Shepard read the letter over, and over, and over again until he could read it in his sleep–which he had in a dream a few nights ago.

Horizon was a mess. Horizon was an absolute cluster fuck of a premeditated mess that Shepard didn't think he'd ever forgive The Illusive Man for putting Kaidan and the colonists through. Horizon was what fully cemented the idea that Shepard was dead for two fucking years and all of its subsequent consequences, all of the possible ways it resonated with everyone he knew.

Of course Kaidan would be the first to apologize.

As Shepard read the message–at that point it became less reading and more scanning for important points–he could still hear Kaidan in the back of his head.

"You turned your back on everything we believed in! You betrayed the Alliance, you betrayed me!"

"I loved you. Thinking you were dead tore me apart. How could you put me through that?!"

"You've changed, but I know where my loyalties lie."

His words stung but after, once heads were cooler and Horizon was in another system, they weren't unreasonable.

Shepard had been the unreasonable one.

"I can see you won't listen to reason."

"The Alliance is going to blame Cerberus, just like you did."

"You saw what happened here!"

He definitely didn't feel like he walked away from that one on top.

Shepard wanted to write back, say he was also sorry and that he still loved Kaidan, maybe even more than before. The words never formed correctly, never deemed fitting for everything Shepard felt; the fifteen drafted letters saved in his terminal was proof enough.

Four and a half hours away from the Omega-4 relay.

With a resounding sigh, Shepard pushed himself off his bed and dragged his feet to the work desk. Maybe laying in bed was the problem; after all, his most productive report writing was done at that desk so logically he should be able to write the letter there no problem. What happened, instead, was that all Shepard could think about was Kaidan back on Horizon.

“Why didn’t you try to contact me? Why didn’t you let me know you were alive?!”

At the three hour mark that fucking cursor kept blinking on the still blank screen.

Fuck it.

If the mission did go FUBAR, if there really was a chance he wouldn't see the other side, he needed closure. Real closure and not a letter he'd forget about later. With a deep breath and a prayer he dialed up Kaidan's omni-tool.

"Commander Alenko speaking." That seemed too fast, too ready but Shepard could ruminate on that later. His heart leapt into his throat leaving his vision blurry and mind just a little gone. Kaidan repeated himself, his voice seemed too far away.

"Got your message," was what came out, low and hesitant. Shepard could have sworn he heard Kaidan gasp.

It was Kaidan's turn to go silent save for some rustling in the background and an automated door sliding. Shepard stood up in the meantime.

"John," came Kaidan's voice again, "it's…"

"Just," the longer they floundered, the less Shepard felt sure about what he was doing, "hear me out, okay? Two minutes."

A deep inhale came from Kaidan’s end but he quickly gave an okay. The floor was Shepard’s. For a split second he wished he had actually planned the call, rehearsed for maybe even a second because suddenly the words were just gone. Son of a bitch…

“John?”

"I," Shepard dragged a hand over his shaved head, "I'm…also sorry. About what happened."

"John-"

"I mean it.” When in doubt, spill your guts. “Sure I got angry, and for a while I felt like I was justified in that anger but shit Kaidan, how else do you cope with the fact you've been dead for two years?!"

"I was able to do it…"

Oh.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"I know.” Kaidan’s voice was terse, like he was speaking through his teeth. Shepard could picture it perfectly in his head, the way Kaidan’s brow was probably pinched and how hard he must be trying to not frown. Their time on the SR-1 gave Shepard time to discover Kaidan’s tells.

“I need to backpedal. Uhh, another two minutes?”

“It’s been nearly ten minutes now.”

Has it?

Shepard checked the chronometer on his omni-tool. Sure enough the call was fast approaching the ten minute mark, and almost two and a half hours until they hit the Omega-4 relay. When did making a call get so difficult?

Well, shit.

“Anyway, Kaidan, I am sorry. I’m sorry for the way I acted on Horizon, but there’s something I want you to know,” he leaned against the fish tank, “if I had it my way, you would have been the first person I’d have gone after. Part of why it took a fucking invasion of a backwater colony to see you was partly due to being stonewalled in the beginning. Then circumstances came into play, and my current mission took priority, and…,” Shepard let his eyes follow the motions of a couple of jellyfish floating in the tank, “I just…had no idea how to approach you.”

Kaidan sighed. “Higher ups wanted me to investigate Cerberus, probably because our time hunting them gave me some credibility. You and I saw the limits their scientists were willing to go, but total resurrection?

When I first heard the rumors of you being alive, I refused to believe them, but…there was another part of me that hoped you would have tried to find me. God knows I did.” As Kaidan spoke his voice got lower so that by the end it was little more than a raspy whisper. “When I got approved for the mission on Horizon I knew Anderson would keep a tight lip about it.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t even tell me.”

“Can you blame him? Could you imagine how mind boggling it is to see someone–someone who was dead for two years–back to life and working for known terrorists? The same terrorists you killed along with them?”

Just when Shepard felt he could breathe in, Kaidan spoke up again.

“Also, you didn’t know how to approach me? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Because, once again, I was dead for two years! What if you had moved on? What if you-”

“I could never.”

The certainty in Kaidan’s voice stopped Shepard dead in his tracks.

“I tried to but I couldn’t. I loved you John, and maybe I still do. You’re still the only one who can make me feel human.” Kaidan’s voice sounded heavy at that and Shepard felt his chest tighten along with him. God damn it.

“I love you too.”

Two hours and fifteen minutes until the Omega-4 relay. Shepard swallowed.

“Kaidan,” Kaidan doesn’t answer verbally, instead gives a small ‘hmm?’, “when I’m done with this mission I swear I’ll get back to you, no matter what.” Was it an empty promise? Maybe, but Shepard knew he would be kicking himself later if he didn’t say anything. As much as his drive revoked around saving the galaxy, Kaidan was in the galaxy, so it only made sense to make him a priority. Get in, beat collector ass, get out, see Kaidan. No ship in known existence had ever made it back out of the relay; something Shepard was determined to fight tooth and nail to change. The impossible seemed less daunting with the thought of seeing Kaidan at the end of everything.

“Yeah,” Kaidan said back, “I’ll be looking forward to that.”

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Jubilation Lee/Jubilee:During their road trip, Jubilee tries to connect with Gabe and fails. Utterly.

“You’ve been a lot angrier lately.”

Gabriel was silent for a bit at that, sipping his beer. "Well," he said, starting to move back from his perch and toward the ladder. "I think I'll take my chances with the aqueducts."

Jubilee grabbed onto the leg of his pants in a loose grip, tugging downwards as she raised an eyebrow at his attempted exit.

“Sit the fuck down, idiot. I’m not about to grill you.”

"Now who's being angry?" Gabriel jerked his leg free of her grasp. If anyone in X-Force was going to tussle him and send him plummeting to sure injury off the side of the vehicle, it wasn't going to be Jubilee. "I don't think there's a conversation for the two of us to have up here."

“Then sit and keep me company anyway,”

She didn’t reach for him again, just turned back to the stars as she picked up her beer and took a deep drink.

He was now far more irritated than he'd been at any point during a trip where he'd been confined to enclosed spaces with co-workers whose hygiene habits he often found to be questionable. And for her, of all of them, to bring up his mood, well, he might have found that laughable if he weren't so annoyed. He turned his back to her, unsure whether to sit or not, and hit his vape.

“You understand I care about you, right?”

She took another sip of her beer, frustrated that she couldn’t ever seem to say the right thing to people despite having been trained and quite good at it during professional events. Give her sweaty rich white man and she was golden. Put in an ounce of actual personal stakes however and she was a continual source of just not having the right words for any of it.

Gabriel unsuccessfully tried to blow smoke rings as he exhaled. He was glad she couldn't see him roll his eyes. "Sure," he said, because it felt rude to say nothing, and she'd essentially forced him into civility by accusing him of being angry. There were very few people on X-Force with whom he wanted to talk about feelings, and he didn't think she was on the shortlist. "I appreciate that," he added, because he did, in a way.

“Cool, so like, think of all the awkward as fuck questions and observations as my way of trying to be present for you. I suck at it, and I don’t expect anyone to actually listen to me but like, yeah. It wasn’t meant to make you leave.”

Jubilee pushed her hand up, letting the smoke from his vape drift through her fingertips.

“Dude, you gotta pulse your throat. Kinda like a really small cough.”

"I know how to blow a smoke ring," he said, not even bothering to hide his irritation.

“Sure,” Jubilee replied, taking a drink and turning back to her stars. They’d need to leave soon, better to get all her ‘outside’ in before they did. “I’m gonna shut up now.”

Gabriel didn't say anything for a second, sipping from his beer. "Yeah," he said. "I'll leave you to that." And in an instant, he was gone.

[distinguishedgentlemanswritings]

Part Six

Series Masterlist

It’s been a while! Apologies, I say as if there’s anyone reading this. Anyway, here we go

________________________________________________________________

Late the next day, Emily had had a far more successful time with Ana. She had slept all the way through the night, and now she was sat in the kitchen whilst Emily made dinner.

Just before she was about to plate up, Ezekiel came down the stairs. He went to walk into the kitchen but upon seeing Ana, he stopped.

"Come eat," Ana said, glancing back at him. His shoulders relaxed slightly and he headed over to the table, taking a seat.

Hunter padded in next, he looked just as rough as Ana had the day earlier. He sat down across from Ezekiel, pushing his hair out of his face as he did.

"Christ, Hunter," Emily gasped as she turned to see him, clearly shocked at the state of him. He glanced over at her, not moving his head to do so.

"I look that bad?" He huffed, dragging his hands through his hair again in an attempt to calm it. "One of my kids gets dragged out of the house by military police and I'm suppose to be able to sleep?"

"Aw, you see us as your kids?" Ezekiel mused, a questionable attempt to lighten the mood. Hunter turned his gaze to Ezekiel, thinking for a moment.

"Hm. Sure" He muttered, leaning back as Emily began laying plates full of food on the table. Ezekiel wanted to know what he meant.

"That wasn't very convincing."

"You're the weird kid that started dating my daughter." Hunter began. "But don't worry, I've grown to tolerate you." A smile curled one corner of his lip up.

All four let out quiet laughs, the first time such a sound had been heard in the house in the longest time.

"Thanks, dad," Ezekiel grinned and Hunter winked at him.

They all quietened down as they began to eat. The plates mostly empty when Ezekiel suddenly raised his head.

"Hang on a minute. How do you see the girls more as your kids when you took me and Willow in first?"

Everyone laughed quietly again, and all eyes fell onto Hunter.

"Well you were always a weird kid. At first I was pretty sure you were only dragging Will along so you'd have something to eat if you got really desperate." Ezekiel gasped in exaggerated horror.

"You thought I was planning on eating the best potion maker I'd ever met? Even at that age they were fucking incredible." He praised.

"Even so, Will has always been a gentleman." Hunter said, causing Ana to smile fondly as she looked back down at her food. Ezekiel tilted his head side to side a few times before sighing.

"Suppose I can't argue with that." He said, then finishing off the last few forkfuls from his plate.

The next few hours were pleasant, quiet conversation buzzed around the table, laughter was shared again. But it wouldn't last long.

There was a knock at the door, which Hunter stood up to answer, Ana also got to her feet. An older woman was stood at the door, wringing her hands in her apron.

"Is everything okay?" Hunter asked, eyes narrowing in concern.

"Come with me, quickly, quickly," she said, going away from the door and back into the street. Ana darted out of the door in front of Hunter and hurried after the woman. The others weren't far behind.

She lead them to a street that was parallel with their own, and towards what was assumed to be her house. There was a heap near the door, but as they came close it looked as if it could be a person. Ana broke into a sprint for the last fifty metres, going ahead of the woman, but stopping a small distance away as what she could see really sunk in.

Will was slumped down, laid on their side, curled up, shivering, trembling. Their face was obscured by the hood of their jumper, they were in the clothes they had left in. Slowly, Ana went closer and knelt down, she reached over cautiously and laid a hand on their shoulder. Will started violently at the touch, whimpers escaping them. Her heart plummeted into the ground, and she slowly pulled her hand away.

She turned to look back at the woman, everyone was surrounding them now.

"Thank you," she said, her voice trembling. She stood up, looking to Hunter.

"We need to get them home," she stated. He walked forward, knelt where Ana had been. As gently as he could, he pulled Will up off of the ground, inwardly cringing as he had to ignore their weak struggles.

Ezekiel was quietly talking with the woman, Emily with them, trying to put together what had happened. Emily looked over to Ana and Hunter.

"Take them home," she said, the pair nodded and hurried off.

Ana ran ahead slightly again, getting a large pot of water on the stove, pulling rags from the cupboard under the sink. She gathered bandages, needle and thread. Not knowing what exactly would be needed, but wanting anything necessary to be quickly available.

Hunter wasn't too far behind her, he paused in the kitchen, glancing at the stairs before saying, "you two are going to take my room." Continuing through the house and pushing his way into his own room. He knelt down beside his bed, just a mattress on the floor, keeping Will close to his chest with one arm, he pulled the sheets off. Ana came in with stacks of clean blankets, laying two down flat, which Hunter carefully laid Will on top of.

The pair switched places, Hunter going back to the kitchen to continue Ana's work, and Ana knelt beside Will.

She felt scared to touch them, but she needed to know what was going on. So as delicately as she could, she began pulling their hoodie from their body. It was blotched with blood, implying the garment underneath would be in a worse state. The second hoodie was damp from both blood and sweat. Ana peeled it off of them, wincing herself when they whimpered.

Their front was badly bruised, especially around their abdomen but there weren't any open wounds. So she carefully moved them to lay on their front. They gasped sharply as she did so, and Ana watched them closely for a moment. She then attempted to move them again with the same reaction, causing her to conclude they likely had a few broken ribs on their right side.

When she managed to get them onto their front, the extent of the damage was so much worse than she could've thought. Hunter walked in as Ana was just sat staring, stunned. He stopped momentarily, taking a breath before placing the pan of water beside Ana along with the rags.

"Start cleaning them, I'll get the needle and thread." He said, stern but soft, she looked up and nodded. Immediately getting to work, grabbing a rag and dunking it in the water, wringing it out before shuffling closer to Will.

She started with the gash that started where their neck met their shoulder, and traveled down to near their armpit. Whipping lashes. Ana made a mental note that there had been no tears in their jumper. What had those fuckers put them through?

Hunter returned with a bowl, to put dirty rags, and the needle and thread. He sat beside Ana with his back to the wall, gently laying a hand on Will's head. "Don't shout at me," he muttered quietly as he pressed slightly on a dark bruise on their jaw. They took in a sharp breath and whined softly, tears escaping their shut eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly, moving his hand back over their hair. He looked to Ana and said, "it's not broken."

She nodded, sniffling slightly herself and blinking away tears as she said, "I think they have broken ribs."

"Okay, well they won't be doing much moving anytime soon so I can check those later. Have you noticed anything else?" He asked, watching her shaky hands as they worked, knowing she wouldn't allow him to take over. She unintentionally let out a sob at their question, taking a few breaths to steady herself.

"Whipping lashes, right?" She began, and Hunter nodded. "Their jumpers are still in one piece, they're freezing." Her breathing became panicked again, so she stopped talking. He nodded again, coming to the same conclusion she had.

"This is going to be a hard journey," he told her gently. "Not just hard for them."

"I know. I know it will." She said, moving onto the next injury. Hunter shifted towards them, leaning in closer, resting on his elbows as he used the needle and thread to pull the broken skin back together.

A weak sob sounded from Will, groans as well as the thread was pulled through their flesh. "Ez needs to hurry up," Hunter muttered, Ana couldn't agree more.

As if he'd heard them, Ezekiel arrived back at the house, along with Emily. They quickly found them in Hunter's room. Ezekiel leant down between Ana and Hunter, cupping Will's face softly. A raging anger flooded over them and he stepped back, taking a few deep breaths. "What do you need?"

"They need rest," Ana whimpered, biting back tears, refusing to allow them to take over. Ezekiel flew up the stairs, two at a time, and into his room. Taking a short moment, stood in front of his bookshelf, to decide the best method. He nodded silently to himself when he decided, and turned around, retrieving a book that was stowed away under the bed.

After flicking through it to the right page, he read quickly before returning it to it's spot, grabbing his staff from beside the bookshelf and going back down the stairs.

Emily looked up when he appeared at the top of the stairs. She narrowed her eyes at him, seeming to be disapproving of his choice but he took no notice. Slipping passed her into the room, he positioned himself across from Hunter, Will between them.

"Stop for a minute," Ezekiel instructed. The pair hesitantly pulled away, watching closely and Emily moved into the room to do the same.

Ezekiel took what felt like an eternity placing the staff in such a precise position. The top was placed against the base of their skull, with the tip resting in the small of their back. He placed his palm flat against the top of the staff, his other hand held the tip in place. A frozen silence fell over the room, no one risked moving. Luckily Hunter and Ana weren't paying attention, but Emily watching as the rings of runes tattooed on Ezekiel's back glowed faintly under his thin shirt. Slowly they watched as Will's body slowly relaxed, the tension leaving their muscles. Their face eventually softened as well, and Ezekiel pulled the staff away.

"They'll be out until morning," he told them, his voice was different be no one could quite distinguish why. Ana barely gave it a second thought and got back to work, Hunter followed suit.

Ezekiel stood up, using the staff to pull himself up and moved out of the room. Emily followed him into the kitchen.

"You used that book didn't you," she spat, her voice hushed. Ezekiel looked over at her, rolling his eyes and turning away.

"It was the best option. The longest rest, without relying on a potion or the need for perfect pronunciation." He replied just as quietly. She just huffed in response, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well you should go rest too," she said, her voice softening slightly and he obeyed. She watched him retreat back up the stairs before putting the full kettle on the stove, intending to care for Hunter and Ana as they cared for Will.

________________________________________________________________

And there we have it, I have a couple more parts written and ready to go but I’ll probably space them out a bit to try and avoid the massive gaps in posting. 

til next time x

[happyslitterbox]

~♥~ Wynter ~♥~ 

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

And Tomorrow, Too.

I'm back!

Much love and many thanks to @stinastar @hailhailsatan @newnamesamecharlotte and @veritasrose for helping me yank this thing out of my brain!

Please enjoy this hurt/comfort that ends with glorious, glorious fluff.

TW: Blood, canon typical injury, infection

Jaskier was having a very rough day, objectively speaking.

He’d just finished dressing after a dip in the river when a lone bandit surprised him, shoving him to the dirt and kicking him in the ribs to keep him down. Having dealt with a gut-punch from a Witcher, Jaskier had recovered faster than anticipated and tackled the stranger to the ground.

“Foolish troubadour,” the bandit snarled. There was the quick flash of something silver and a sudden white-hot pain shot up the bard’s side from his hip to his ribcage.

“Shit,” Jaskier gasped, clutching desperately at his slashed doublet. The panicked bandit scooped up the largest of the bard’s travel bags and darted into the woods, leaving his bloodied weapon lying atop a pile of leaves beside his victim. When Jaskier pulled his hand away from the wound on his ribcage he grimaced; that was more blood than he’d been hoping to see. “Fucking cock.”

After he stripped to the waist and rinsed off in the river a second time, Jaskier took inventory of himself. The cut started at his left hip and slid up his ribcage to just beneath his left shoulder, and it was practically impossible to bandage; any attempt to wrap the upper half of his injury made him bite his lip to keep from screaming in anguish.

It was agony to move more than a few inches in either direction, since the twisting motion pulled at his torn skin and stung like hellfire. All he could really do was apply a loose poultice of chewed mint leaves to ward against infection and tie his shirt around his torso in lieu of a bandage. His cloak would have to work even harder than usual to keep him warm until Geralt arrived.

“Alright, well,” he muttered to no one as he accounted for the rest of his scattered clothing and supplies. “I need to find somewhere to rest and gather what wits I still possess… somewhere that’s still close enough for Geralt to find me. Shit, this isn’t good.”

The bard thanked every god he knew when he managed to find a small cave less than a hundred yards from the enormous oak tree where he met Geralt every year. He limped his remaining belongings into the slightly cramped space and deposited them against the left wall.

---

Fortunately for Jaskier, the idiot bandit had declared his beautiful elven lute “too bulky and annoying to carry���, and had left Sexy well enough alone. Unfortunately, the ruffian had still made off with all the bard’s coin from at least two months’ worth of contracted performances, most of his medical supplies, and most of his rations, as well.

But Jaskier had spent years at Geralt’s side and the Witcher had taught him how to deal with emergencies of every variety. Jaskier wasn’t about to disappoint his companion by flailing about ineffectively like some noble-born dunce at a time like this. No, Jaskier was determined to be healthy and ready to travel again by the time Geralt arrived in Kaedwen to find him. They only had a week or two together before they separated again for the winter and he wasn’t going to lose a single precious second in Geralt’s presence due to some silly highwayman.

Lovelorn fool that he was.

The bard used his remaining strength to gather a few armfuls of firewood and light some dried leaves with his flint and steel. He laid out his bedroll against the back wall so that he could see clearly if anyone approached from outside and wrapped his arms around Sexy to keep her safe. He re-wrapped his wound with more crushed mint and laid down to try and get some sleep.

Hopefully Geralt would arrive soon with his medical supplies and more water.

Hopefully.

---

After two long days spent huddled in a miserable lump at the back of the cave, anxiously scanning the horizon for any sign of another bandit (or Geralt) and unable to gather food or kindling, Jaskier was exhausted from lack of sleep. The wound in his side ached and burned far worse than it had on that first afternoon, aggravated by sweat and debris that had crept through his makeshift bandages.

Any added pressure around the edges of the cut made the skin nearly creak with the building strain of infection. He whimpered involuntarily every time he took a breath and trembled at any shift in the autumn breeze. It seemed as if his very bones were aching as his body flashed between the white-hot and freezing cold of a raging fever.

Slowly, and with a great effort on the part of his illness, Jaskier succumbed to the injury and sank into the quiet warmth of unconsciousness.

---

“Jaskier?” Geralt called, guiding Roach around another circuit of the old oak tree. “Are you there, Jaskier? We need to make it to the fork in the Pontar before the harvest ends and I’m in no mood for practical jokes.”

Nothing.

All his Witcher hearing picked up on were leaves twitching in the wind and a few rabbits foraging off to his left. Not even Jaskier could stay so still, even for a joke; his heartbeat and the uptick in his breathing would give him dead away.

“Well, I’m going to town.”

Geralt was about to wheel Roach back toward the road in search of a nearby inn when he caught a whiff of something on the wind - something that sent his heart plummeting into his boots.

Blood.

Jaskier’s blood. And it wasn’t fresh.

He dropped silently from the saddle and gave the signal for Roach to stay put. After a few careful breaths and some shuffling through the autumn leaves, Geralt discovered the bandit’s discarded dagger, still rusty-red around the tip and left edge.

“Fuck! Jaskier!” Geralt called, glancing around the small copse in the woods. “Jaskier, where are you!?”

The Witcher closed his eyes and tilted his head back to better clear his airways. He took a deep breath in through his nose and focused every one of his heightened senses on locating the bard. There it was again to his right, but slightly stronger. “Fucking hells.”

Geralt did his best to follow the trail without panicking. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he lost his head while the bard was in mortal danger. If the bard was in mortal danger, he tried to reassure himself.

But if Jaskier had recovered he would have been waiting at the oak. Geralt knew that. He knew it with every fiber of his being, though he wouldn’t admit anything aloud. Jaskier’s long autumn absence had already set him on edge when he’d caught the blood-smell. “Gods-dammit, bard. Please be alive. Please, Jaskier, I can’t-”

Geralt bit his tongue and continued to follow the bard’s weak scent into the woods. After too many minutes - perhaps five or six at the speed Geralt was moving - the Witcher reached a small cave. The mouth of said cave was nearly covered-over with dry leaves and Geralt could tell, even from this distance, that Jaskier was not faring well at all. The whole area smelled like rot. Like decay. If it weren’t for the bard’s fluttering heartbeat echoing faintly from within the tiny cavern, the Witcher would have fallen to his knees and wept with despair at his untimely death.

When Geralt ducked inside and reached to pull Jaskier into his arms, the bard struggled weakly. “No, please,” he rasped. “D-Don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jaskier,” Geralt replied softly. He shifted the thick leather strap of Sexy’s case over his shoulder and hefted the bard into his arms in one swift movement. Those usually brilliant blue eyes looked up at him in utter confusion. The irises were dull and foggy with sickness; the Witcher’s heart lurched in his chest and he turned back to the path, doubling his speed in his hurry to reach Roach. “You don’t have to worry any more, sweet Julek. I’m going to get you to safety.”

“If you must kill me-” Jaskier continued, muttering frantically as if Geralt hadn’t said anything at all “-then p-please do me one last f-favor. I need you to p-please find a Witcher. F-Find the White Wolf. Tell h-him… Tell him that I…”

Then the weight in Geralt’s arms seemed to increase by a fraction and the bard went silent. The Witcher shook the sweating, shaking bundle in his arms but Jaskier remained quiet.

“What do you want to tell him, Jaskier?” Geralt glanced down. His eyebrows furrowed deeply when he realized the human had fallen unconscious. The hummingbird pace of Jaskier’s fluttering heartbeat began to hammer even faster and his breaths were far too shallow. The Witcher rumbled out a determined, desperate plea the universe to save his darling songbird, followed by a quiet but emphatic, “Fuck.”

---

“Eskel!” Geralt kicked down the door to the kitchen of Kaer Morhen with one solid boot. He hadn't slept in two days and his body ached from sprinting up the path with a full-grown man in his arms. “Eskel, Vesemir, please!”

“Fuck, is that Geralt!?” Eskel came whipping around one corner at a sprint. Lambert and Vesemir were close behind, Lambert with a sword drawn and a scowl on his face. He lowered it when he saw that Geralt wasn't being pursued.

“Please, Ves, Eskel, please, help him to survive because I can’t- I can’t-” the White Wolf, for all his bravado and stoicism, was panting furiously. His kinsmen knew that he'd be crying if he had the capability to do so and crowded closer to help. Geralt immediately handed a warm, damp bundle to his Eskel with incredible gentleness and care. He looked up at the slightly taller Witcher and begged with all the strength he had left: “Please. I can't let him die.”

---

Jaskier woke up with a sharp gasp. His side radiated a dull, persistent kind of agony and he felt sick to his stomach. With a low groan he turned to retch off the side of the bed, into a conveniently placed bucket. He shouted when the movement made his wound ache all the more. “Fuck!”

The bard heard a heavy thud from his left followed by some clattering and a quietly whispered, “Shit.”

“G’ralt?”

��Jaskier!” the Witcher appeared at his side in a flash. Geralt leaned over him with a damp cloth in hand and wiped at the corners of his mouth. “You’re alive! Melitele be thanked. Do you need to be sick again? Would you like some water?”

“You’re o-oddly verbose,” Jaskier managed to half-smile.

“Was worried.”

“There’s my monosyllabic Witcher,” the bard grinned through his blinding pain. “It hurts, Geralt. Rather terribly.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t- We’re all Witchers so it’s not…” Geralt sighed and turned away to rinse the cloth in a bowl of cool water that had been resting on the sill. “We didn’t know which kind of herbs were safe for humans and which weren’t.”

“We?”

“How’s the patient?”

Jaskier's snapped to the doorway and his body automatically jerked in surprise. He whimpered at the reaction it elicited from his injury, his ribs blooming with a sharp sting. “Shit!”

“Fuck!” the red-headed man in the door replied, slamming his hands over his face. “I’m so sorry. Shit in the fucking nine hells.”

“Uh…”

“Jaskier, this is my brother Lambert. Lambert… This is Jaskier.”

“Ah yes,” the shorter Witcher smirked. “I’ve heard so much about you, Master Jaskier.”

“That I’m a royal pain in the ass?”

“Quite the opposite, really. In fact, when the two of you arrived, Geralt was nearly-”

Lambert’s statement was interrupted by a small wooden bowl to the side of the head, chucked across the room by a grim-faced Geralt.

“Nevermind. Anyway, glad to see you’re awake. I’ll let the others know that he's no longer going hand-to-hand with Death.”

“Others?” Jaskier glanced between Geralt and Lambert with wide, confused eyes. “Am I… Am I in Kaer Morhen!?”

“Aye,” Lambert winked. “And you slept through the first two days of snowfall, so I’m afraid to inform you that you’re stuck at Kaer Morhen for the rest of this season. I’ll let you and Geralt hash the rest of the details out in private. Tootles, Buttercup.”

And just as suddenly as Lambert had appeared, he was gone.

The bard turned to make eye contact with the White Wolf and blinked owlishly. “Wh-What did he mean about being here all winter?”

“I’m afraid he wasn’t lying,” Geralt returned to the stool beside Jaskier’s bed and sat down slowly, as if waiting for Jaskier to order him out of the room entirely. “Your injury was heavily infected and you were close to death when I found you in that cave at the base of the mountains. I ran the Killer in two days instead of one and brought you to Eskel and Vesemir for healing; they were the closest people I could think of who knew what to do to save you. I’m so sorry for trapping you here for the season when you should be teaching and composing in Oxenfurt. If you’d like, I can try to contact Yen or Triss and have them portal you back to the University before Yule.”

“Nobody would want to inconvenience a sorceress on their behalf,” Jaskier answered. "Myself included."

“So you don’t mind staying?”

Jaskier glanced up through his lashes, more self-conscious than Geralt had ever seen him before. “Were you really worried about me dying? Did you really carry me up the path all by yourself? In two days?”

“...Yes.”

“Why?”

Geralt felt his heart shatter to pieces in his chest. All these years spent thinking that if he was too obvious about his feelings he’d hurt Jaskier... and Jaskier had simply been waiting for any confirmation of his affections, friendly or otherwise.

"Because I..." the Witcher stood again and started to pace. "Because, Julek, I love you. I can't bear the thought of being parted from you. It's even worse because I know, I know that you're human and that I'm going to lose you too soon no matter what happens. Illness, age, injury... No matter how many years we have together they will never be enough."

Jaskier sniffled and Geralt turned on his heel to face the bard, hands already outstretched to offer comfort. "You enormous fucking idiot."

"Huh?"

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you sitting in the corner, brooding away," Jaskier grinned. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and dripped onto the blanket. "Why didn't you tell me? You couldn't even look me in the eyes and call me your friend..."

"Witchers aren't very good at romance, if you haven't noticed," Geralt laughed humorlessly. "I knew I was going to hurt you eventually. It was only a matter of time."

"Well now we have all winter to figure things out," Jaskier offered, sliding his hand across the mattress to twine his fingers with Geralt's. The Witcher's skin was cool against his own and it felt glorious.

"Hmm."

"No! No going silent on me now, you fucker!"

"Get some rest," Geralt smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jaskier's sweaty fringe. "I will be here when you wake."

"And tomorrow, too?"

Geralt smiled oh-so-softly and kissed him again, on the lips.

"And tomorrow, too."

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

⤷ chapter twenty three: seesaw

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Eerie. If there was one word to describe your current situation with Atsumu, that would exactly be the perfect term for it. As you sat across one another in a booth in a restaurant that Osamu apparently found for him (he says it’s the “best place” for the both of you to properly make up, you called it the “Osamu utters another bullshit” place), you find yourself unequipped of words to tell him, something you found odd considering you never had any dull or awkward moment with him. Well, at least not until our feelings got in the way, you thought, letting out a quiet sigh as you poked your food with the fork, completely aware of the stare that the blonde holds on you.

He fidgets in his seat, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to form his words because what else can he say aside from apologies (that he thinks are probably useless given that right after saying sorry, he finds another way to hurt you)? He doesn’t really have any other choice though so he takes a deep breath and begins his sentence, “YN, I’m really so-”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence or I might just stab you with this,” you cut him off, waving the fork you were holding in his face, snickering at his wide eyes that was accompanied by a large gulp. You put it down and place your chin on your hand, leaning your head towards it as you stared him down (more like glare, in his perspective), “Just wanna let you know, this will be the last apology I’ll ever get and accept.”

Observing the confusion that became more and more evident in his face, you continue, “Because if you hurt me one more time, then that’s it. I’m really gonna cut off my ties with you because that just proves to me that everything about this,” you gesture towards you and him, “is not meant to be… as friends.”

Not even as soulmates. In a pathetic attempt to make everything seem like it’s fine, you grab the glass that was right by your arm; the harsh flow of cold water down your throat is not even close to beating the suffocation of the truth that dawned upon you. How ironic - everything is just a cycle that keeps on repeating over and over again yet for some reason, the agony remains all the same. It never gets less and if anything, becomes more to the point that it just torments you every single moment of your breath. Always so pathetic, YN, always.

“YN…” he trails off but you hold your hand up, letting him know that you were not yet finished.

“So, make sure that this is the last. You know we both deserve so much more than a friendship that keeps on pulling and pushing us. We weren’t like this before, Atsumu,” you state as a matter of fact, sadly smiling as he bowed his head down, “what happened to us?”

Deep down, you already knew the answer to your question. No matter how much you wanted to deny it, deny her entire existence, you can’t. Because that would mean denying Atsumu and the happiness he desires. Yet at the same time, you just can’t let go of him. 

“Yui happened,” he whispers, “I just… it’s inexcusable, the way I kept on pushing ya aside and hurting ya because of her… but I just… I thought she was her yanno? For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to meet my soulmate and Yui was just so bright and nice and I guess I got this hope in me that maybe she’s her… but she wasn’t and it’s so frustrating.” 

The disappointment and sadness in his face squeezed your heart that thumped against your chest, the longingness that had always resided within you struggling to get out and give him a hug. As he spilled his heart out to you, you couldn’t help the guilt that began spreading in your mind, he wasn’t the coward; you were. 

“It feels so frustrating to be so clueless every single time. I guess that’s why I took it out on ya, because I felt somewhat jealous that ya can see the threads and I can’t and for the rest of my life, I’ll be lost, wondering who my true soulmate is. And the fact that yer leaving me soon too… everything’s just so messy inside me, yanno? So I’m sorry for that, YN. I’m not excusing myself from the pain nor am I dismissing yer feelings but I hope ya understand where I’m coming from too,” he quietly speaks, fiddling with his fingers.

“Atsumu… I-”

“I said that but YN, I think I’m done waiting for my soulmate. I… I don’t want to seem selfish but… it has been too long of waiting… I’ve always tried to find them myself even though I don’t have abilities like yours. Thinking about it now, maybe they just don’t want to be found? Because if they did know me, wouldn’t they have told me right at the moment they met me? So, can’t you just cut off my thread please?”

And right at that moment, you felt your heart plummet down to the deepest and darkest abyss of your insides. He’s given up and you still can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. I don’t want to give you up, please, not yet… You want to beg him; to just give you a little bit more time, a little bit more courage, a little bit more attention in hopes that he’ll see. Please, just look at me, look at me and you’ll find what you’ve been looking for, Tsum. 

But the desperation in his face reels you back to the reality that he doesn’t want you; he wants some other girl, someone who can never be you and you find your heart being engulfed with bitterness so you scoff and stand up, “This bullshit again? You’re making me lose my appetite and I am not about to have this conversation with you, Miya Atsumu. ”

He gapes at you, obviously surprised with the sudden change of mood. It was already going good a while ago but perhaps, it was the calm before the storm, ready to ruin the both of you, “YN! Wait up! Stop! Come back here!” 

He’s able to grab your wrist as soon as you get out of the restaurant, “Hey! Come on, I’m pretty sure the aftermath wouldn’t be that bad! Ya don’t need to be so uptight,” he pants. He never knew you can run that fast. But that’s totally not important at the moment because he can literally see steam coming out of your ears as you took a deep breath and turned around, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Uptight?! I’m in no way being uptight right now, Miya Atsumu! What you’re asking is… is dumb… outrageous… or nonsensical… AND dangerous!” you screamed, stuttering out of disbelief as the lad only looked at you with amusement. He chuckled; as much as he didn’t want to, he found your little tantrum cute. Your head whipped once again to his direction upon hearing his laugh, “you’re laughing?! Do you think asking me to cut off your thread is funny? You’re fucking ridiculous! Do you even know the consequences? Do you have no care for your soulmate?”

The grin leaves his face as he watches your eyes start to slowly but surely well up with tears, “Did you invite me just for this? Is this all you think our friendship is for? Jokes? Or the fact that I’m a fucking Moira who can fix your soulmate issues? I’m supposed to be your best friend before anything else, am I not?”

“Wait, no, YN… you know that’s not-”

“Because if you do think that way, you wouldn’t have thought about this in the first place because you’d know how much I despise cutting someone’s thread - have you even tried to think of what your soulmate will think? What would happen if she finds her thread cut off? You think she’d laugh too? She’ll just wake up one day with her thread being black, not even knowing what hap-”

“But she’s not here!” he screams, head down before he looked up, rage swimming in his eyes that even up to now, you still love, “She’s not here. And you’ve never even tried helping me find her so what makes you think you have a say on whether or not I should give up on meeting her? I’ve always asked for your help, didn’t I? But what? Every single fucking time, you reject the idea of me meeting her like it’s a plaque that will kill you.”

That’s because she’s always been here, I’ve always been here, idiot… is what you want to say but the painful truth of his words stopped you from retaliating further.

“She can find a new soulmate too! Y/N… please, I’m 100% serious about wanting to do this,” by now, any joke and teasing were gone from his voice as he begged the girl in front of him. But you were even more stubborn than him so you shook your head and crossed your arms, remaining firm on your stand.

“No. Stop being selfish, Tsum. It’s not always about your ‘needs’ and ‘wants.’ Breaking the bond… is something we mustn’t do, as much as possible. You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret; I won’t let you,” you whispered, clutching sides of your skirt. Atsumu didn’t know what happened to him after that or why he stupidly chose to open his mouth again.

“You’re the one who’s being a selfish bitch, Y/N. Just because ya can’t find your soulmate and yer happiness, doesn’t mean we can’t too. You’re so needy that you can’t let us be happy without ya. I wonder what the gods thought when they gave you that power? Stupid gods, they can’t even do one thing right; giving it to a coward and a selfish bitch who can’t even cut her best friend’s thread for the sake of his happiness…” it was the crestfallen look plastered on your face that made him stop as soon as he saw it. Realization dawned upon him and immediately, he tried reaching out to you with his hand. 

Ah, I give up.

“It’s okay…” you choked, pulling back from him and taking a deep breath, no longer giving any effort to stop the tears that now freely flowed down your cheeks, “I understand. I’m sorry that I care for you then.”

He opens his mouth, ready to say yet another apology but he knows… he knows it was futile now. He watches you as you hastily wipe your cheeks from any tear stain but they kept on coming so you felt yourself get frustrated even more. Stop being so pathetic for once, YN, for god’s sake!

“You know, Atsumu? I always feel like we’re in a seesaw that just never stays balanced. It’s either one of us is on the top while the other’s down and it just… gets so fucking tiring trying to understand you.” You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you finally felt the courage within you. It’s a little bit late for it to come, isn’t it?

“You want to know why I never told you about my soulmate’ Because I’ve found him a long fucking time ago. But he can’t even be honest to himself that he at least feels something for me. He chooses to be blind with all the possibilities we could have if he just chooses to cross the line, even for just a little bit… right? Cause be fucking honest, Atsumu, it doesn’t even matter if I told you or not. Either way, you’re never gonna love me the same way I’ve always loved you. It’s quite funny, honestly, I’ve never told you because I wanted you to love me, not because I’m your soulmate but because I was YN. But I never expected that it would be the very reason why I can’t have you… because I’m just YN.” You let out what seems like a laugh but the waver in your voice failed to deliver that.

“... So don’t tell me I’m needy and selfish because if I were, I would’ve told you the moment I met you that it was you. But I didn’t want to lose you, so I thought it was okay. I can deal with the pain if it meant I can keep you beside me and not risk anything…” you trail off, “... but I’m just… I’m done pretending I can keep being on this playground with you.”

You took out the red scissors that you’ve loathed so much, nearing it to your threads as he stayed still in disbelief of everything that has been revealed to him seconds ago, “I love you, Tsum..... I only wish for you to be happy so… don’t ever regret this, okay?”

Atsumu looks at you and at that moment, he just knows… that for the rest of his life, he’ll remember the broken smile you gave him as you finally cut the thread that has connected you to him for the past years.

Don’t regret anything, Tsum…

“Because I won’t.”

I won’t even remember a single thing about you.

note. ah… at last we have come to the beginning of the end. two words from me to you: i’m sorry.

[rizubaby]

Sex underneath the stars | Kaito Momota.

18+ content warning | minors dni.

genre ; NSFW oneshot.

request ; Kaito and reader having sex underneath the stars, but Kaito keeps interrupting the mood by talking about space.

tags ; fem!reader, boyfriend experience, oral/fingering, semi-rough sex, sex outside, vulgar language.

Location: courtyard of the academy.

Time: 10:25 pm.

. . .

"K-Kaito, not so fast!" you giggle, your purple spiky haired boyfriend of nearly three months hastily dragging you by your arm as you struggled to keep up with him. After a long and tiring day, the sun has already set and has made room for the gentle glow of the moon. You had both been busy all day, and the suggestive and lustful looks you were giving each other were NOT helping in the slightest. Every time you'd walk past each other, you could feel the unspoken sexual tension build up. God, you wished he would just drag you out for a few minutes and rail you in the nearest empty classroom. But that's not what happened.

Patiently awaiting the day to end and everybody to go back to their dorms, Kaito had come up with a plan. While you two were busy "tidying up the classroom", the rest of the other students made their way back to their rooms. What a perfect lie that was. Fortunately, none of them suspected anything or thought it was odd you two would stay behind. You had agreed to keep your relationship a secret for the time being, because you valued your privacy and wanted to see where this relationship was heading.

As soon as the announcement for nighttime passed, a lustful grin appeared on Kaito's face. You walked up towards him and eagerly pulled him in for a kiss, expecting him to undress you right then and there and fuck the life out of you. But he didn't.

"Kaito? What's wrong?" you asked, looking up into his deep lilac eyes. He smiled at you, immediately grabbing you by your wrist. "I have a much better idea. Come with me."

. . .

As he was quickly dragging you through the halls of the school, you soon walked out into the courtyard. Looking up at the sky, you stood there in awe for a second as the dark midnight sky and bright stars completely surrounded you. Kaito wasted no time and dragged you further back, to the place where you two kissed for the first time, and where he later asked you to be his girlfriend.

"It's... beautiful," you whisper, eyes still wandering to observe the endless amount of small and bright stars. Your eyes dart back over to your boyfriend, who was looking at you with a small smirk. He swiftly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer, lustfully pressing his lips against yours.

Soft little whimpers escaped your lips as you continued your passionate kiss, feeling his hands slowly slide down and squeeze your beautifully shaped ass. He couldn't contain his large grin as he was cupping your soft behind, and it was kind of adorable. Soon after, he pulled away from your kiss for a moment and gently laid you down on the grass, eagerly pulling off your shirt and his and tossing them aside. He brought his face closer and lustfully started sucking on your tits while one of his hands made it's way down your panties.

"K-Kaito, h-hah..." you whimpered, finally feeling his hands and mouth all over you just like you'd been fantasizing about all day. You felt your face burn up, looking down at him as he was sucking on one breast and squeezing the other, slowly pulling down your panties with his other hand. He let go of your soft breasts and smirked, pressing two fingers against your dripping entrance.

"Mm, you're so wet for me baby..."

All you could do was let out a surprised whimper, feeling the cold air and his warm fingers against your folds simultaneously. As he slowly pushed his fingers deeper inside of you, he leaned in for another sweet kiss to muffle your moans. Your face was burning hot, and all you could focus on in that moment was how good his fingers felt inside you.

As he was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and stimulating your g-spot, he let his eyes wander for a moment and looked up at the sky. Like a child fixated on a toy inside a toystore, his attention quickly moved towards all the constellations in the sky above you.

"Babe, look! That's Ursa Major!"

He nudged you and pointed at the sky, his finger tracing the outline of the constellation. What the hell? Um, hellooo, we're busy here! And how the hell is he able to finger you and focus on something completely different at the same time?!

You looked up at him in confusion, not really being able to comprehend what was happening. His fingers were still working their magic, yet your arousal immediately plummeted significantly. His face turned towards you again for a second, and he started sucking on one of your breasts once again. You decided to laugh it off for now, dismissing it as another one of his quirky characteristics. Trying to focus on the pleasure he was giving you again, you let your fingers run through his hair.

Not even a minute or so later, he stopped, and with a childishly excited expression he started rambling on about space and everything he knew about the constellations he had just observed.

"Babe, did you know that the constellation of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor could be traced back to the Cosmic Hunt myths, which date back more than 13,000 years? And did you know that--"

"Kaito, stop!"

The purple haired boy immediately stopped talking, and looked at you with a surprised expression. He did not expect you to react like that, so it instantly clicked that there was something wrong. You grabbed his wrist, signaling him to stop. You sighed.

"Listen, I know you love talking about space. And it is a beautiful night tonight, I really appreciate that you took me here. But... baby, we're kind of in the middle of something!"

You could see the expression on his face change, and he seemed to get a little embarrassed by his actions. You cupped his face in your hands and looked deeply into his eyes.

"We've been waiting for this all day, I need you so bad. So please... give me your full attention."

Something about the way you said it made him instantly forget everything he wanted to say, and he felt the tent in his pants growing. The way you always managed to snap him out of it and make him focus on you made him appreciate you even more. You knew him better than anyone and always knew what he needed, and somehow whatever you'd say to him now would only make him want to fuck you even more.

"You're right. I'm sorry... let me make it up to you," he stated, bringing his face to your neck and gently planting kisses all over. He brought his lips closer to your ear, and whispered;

"Let me show you how much I need you."

Hearing him say that in that low and lustful voice of his made your pussy throb. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him as close to you as he could, reaching down and cupping him through his pants. A soft grunt escaped him as he started kissing down your neck and collarbones, reaching down as well to pull down his pants and boxers. But instead of positioning himself in front of your entrance, he slowly kissed his way down to the inside of your thighs, making your longing for him almost unbearable.

"As much as I want to feel you around me, I want to taste you first..."

Without warning, he hungrily started lapping at your clit. Your back arched in response, and you frantically reached for him. Gripping onto his hair tightly and your legs shaking, the sudden shift in tone made you near your climax already. Aroused little moans and whimpers came out of you, and he loved every sound you made.

"That's it, cum for me baby.. Cum on my face, hm..." he mumbled, the vibrations of his voice against your skin sending shivers up your spine. Within seconds, your first high washed over you and it left you a trembling mess with your boyfriend's face between your thighs. A satisfied groan came from him as he licked your soaked folds, making you extremely flustered by how much he loved it when you came on his face.

Without saying a word, Kaito quickly got up and lifted your legs over his broad shoulders, positioning himself at your entrance and rubbing the tip of his cock in between your lips.

"K-Kaito, p-please, I need-- Ah!"

Finally not being able to contain himself any longer, he pushed his length all the way inside. He let out a soft grunt and immediately started pumping into you. His pace was incredible, and the way he filled you up was just perfect. With your legs in the air and over his shoulders, the angle in which he was pounding into you made him go even deeper. He reached down and started stimulating your clit with his thumb whilst he was fucking you, grinning at the sight of your flustered face.

"Mm, you feel so fucking good around me baby.." He muttered, firmly gripping your hips with his other hand. Seeing you in a state of pure extacy made him so incredibly hard for you, slowly picking up the pace with every thrust. The sloppy sounds of your bodies colliding and aroused moans made for a beautiful symphony, something you'd be thinking about long after this night.

"F-Fuck, I'm gonna cum soon... S/o, come with me," Kaito whispered, leaning forward and muffling both of your moans with another lustful kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close as you tightly wrapped your legs around his waist. He was thrusting into you so hard and so fast, it felt like you were going to lose your mind at any moment. All you could do was incoherently moan out his name while digging your nails into his back. Kaito's face was buried against your chest, clenching his jaw as his breathing became increasingly hitched and laboured. "A-Ah, f-fuck..! Baby, come with me- Hngh!"

Feeling your walls tightly clench around his cock, his thick ropes of cum finally spilled inside of you, making you let out a final loud moan. Milking him of every last drop, he grunted loudly as he rode out his high. He honestly couldn't believe you felt so fucking good. This was by far the best sex you ever had since you two got together.

He finally collapsed on top of you, both panting heavily as you slowly came down from your incredible orgasms. Kaito gently pulled out, admiring the sight of his thick cum dripping out of you. He chuckled, a satisfied smile forming on his face as he reached down and kissed you lovingly.

Kaito quickly grabbed his coat and hung it over your shoulders. He laid back down on the grass with his hands behind his head and you nuzzled up against him, looking up at the stars once again.

"That was amazing, heh... We should really do this more often," he laughed.

"Okay, but you have to promise me to not talk about space anymore while we have sex."

"Hahaha, fine. I only have eyes for you anyway."

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Thank You For Your Service IV (M)

Thank you @7stars-aligned13 for the beautiful mood board!!  Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: smut, angst, fluff Warnings: mentions of trouble conceiving, lots of time skips, squirting, face fucking, dom!Jimin, slight role play, impreg kink, dirty talk, fingering, cream pie Word Count: 24,500

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

You hiccup, already crying fat tears before you’ve even heard the news. You fear those words, feel the emptiness, and it hurts your soul. The straight faced doctor takes her time coming into your room, letting out a sigh once she sees your face. It’s from exasperation, but you would like to interpret it as sympathy. She stands at the foot of your bed, waiting until you calm your breathing enough to hear her.

“As I am sure you have guessed, you are not with child.” Those words break your heart for the sixth time and you break down into sobs, hiding your face in Jimin’s pillows.

Six months. It has been six long months since you were wed and you still are not pregnant. Even after all those late nights, early mornings when you’d send the servants away before your schedules began, the remedies and special foods, the slightly uncomfortable positions and pillow mountains, you still are not yet carrying your husband’s child. And it crushes you.

Yes, you know having children is not all you are good for, but it is one of your duties as a Queen. Having heirs is something that only you can do and the entire kingdom awaits expectantly for the news of an incoming prince or princess that they can idolize and adore, so you feel the pressure at all times of day— as well as guilt in regards to your barren womb. You should be fertile at this youthful time in your life. Both you and Jimin have passed every physical examination and remain in excellent health, which is why it is so perplexing to you that you are having trouble conceiving. Rosé, Queen of the kingdom just north of yours, is already pregnant and she was wed to her husband an entire month after you. Twins, you hear she’s having. You’d hate to fall behind her kingdom in any aspect, even in such a trivial competition as having children. She has nothing to do with your family, and yet, you still feel so inferior because you do not yet have one.

“To put it bluntly,” Your doctor begins, looking down at the paper she’s holding, scribbled with notes. “I believe the cause of your current condition— or lack thereof— is due to the poisoning you endured several months ago. It is possible that the potion affected your reproductive organs in some imperceptible way; your kidneys exhibited symptoms of its effects for nearly a month after your recovery, so we cannot completely rule out this possibility. But, Your Highness, the only way I would be able to test this hypothesis is through surgery to visually inspect your organs.”

You shudder at the thought of being cut open, shaking your head animatedly. Maybe you would consider this “inspection” after a year of effort and failure, but you would not take such drastic measures this early. No matter how much the constant failure hurt.

“If my infertility is due to the poison-“ You swallow thickly when your voice comes out as a mere whimper.

“Let us not be so hasty in calling it infertility, Your Majesty.” She interrupts, stare lightening just slightly. She’s learned the tiniest bit of respect since working under Jimin, his low tolerance for rudeness and spiny disposition during medical examinations slowly beginning to unnerve her cold discourse. Many a time has he reprimanded her for speaking to you informally or for her lack of sympathy, and you are finally starting to see a change, though she still interrupts you to interject.

“If my current inability to conceive is because of the poison,” You try again, “Are there any elixirs or pills I could take to lessen its effects? There must be something!”

“Because we do not know entirely if this is due to the poison, I am hesitant to give you treatment— sometimes getting pregnant is difficult for some people and there is nothing medically wrong with them. For now I can only give you advice on conception: try to lower your stress levels, eat more fruits and vegetables for vitamins, and do not over exert yourself. That is all for today, I will be back in a month for your regular check up unless I am needed sooner.” With that she turns and leaves, not waiting to be dismissed and leaving you alone in your room.

It is the middle of winter and the bone-chilling winds whip against your windows. The palace is heated by fire, but you refuse to light your fireplace, choosing to sit and suffer in the cold alone as you wallow in your gloom. Jimin has been busy all day with kingdom affairs, out and about performing duties that not even your father cared enough to get done. The people love him, love how involved he is and how much he cares, and they never hesitate to alert him to any problems they might have that Jimin could take care of. Of course he doesn’t mind, you knew he would never be able to stay inside these sheltered walls for long when he was so used to the excitement of training and battle, but you wished he would spare a little time to cater to your issues. His absence during your monthly checkups is not unusual. For the first three he held your hand and sat with you, on the fourth he left in the middle due to an urgent matter, and these last two he has been out of the castle altogether. Since your third appointment, when your hopes of being pregnant were at its highest, he seemed to have a very negative attitude toward your checkups. He told you he did not intentionally avoid these meetings, and you think that is partly true, but you know that he must hate the constant rejection and is deliberately making himself unavailable when he thinks you will be rejected again. He would much rather hear the bad news from you instead of your cold doctor.

When you asked your father to accompany you, he sort of grimaced and then politely declined. You understand, the thought of addressing the fact that your daughter has not only been deflowered, but is being repeatedly taken in the efforts of bearing fruit is sickening to you, too. Also, he is not very adept at comforting you when you break down like this, face buried in your husband’s pillows and shoulders shaking with sobs.

Telling by the ache in your skull and the completely soaked through cushion beneath your head, a long time has passed by the time you finally raise your face at the sound of Jimin shuffling into your bedroom. He shivers once the door is closed again, expecting warmth but being met with bitterness.

“It is freezing in here.” He rasps beneath his breath, ignoring you momentarily to light the fireplace, moving to shed the outer layers of his clothing once the fire is of decent size. The single glance he took at you upon entering is all he needed to know what has transpired, and he is in no rush to hear the devastating words. It’s only until he is in comfortable attire that he turns to face you, easing your head onto his chest with a curled bottom lip before he’s even settled properly on the mattress. “My love...”

Your tears flow freely onto his chest and he says nothing, sighing into your hair because by now this has become a common occurrence.

“She said it might be,” You snivel, “because of the poison.” He closes his eyes, having suspected the same thing but praying that it was not true. He wondered if the poison would have any long lasting effects on you, or on your future offspring, but dismissed the thought immediately. Although he knows nothing of what the doctor has said, he feels discouraged nonetheless. His past failure to protect you continues to circle around his head like a vulture, tormenting him to no end and making its appearance to pick at his wounds whenever he starts to move on from it. Six months feels like a long time, but it is apparent that his emotional scars need far longer to fully heal. And for that he owes to Jinwoo.

“I am s-sorry for being s-so weak.” You wipe your nose, face red and puffy from both tears and embarrassment. “Half a year ago you had not yet seen me shed tears, and now...” Almost as if the word itself had summoned them, fresh droplets fall from your eyes, looking pitifully up at the man who had stolen your heart. Only, he must have given it back to you at some point because you feel too much these days and you are tired of hurting like this. God, you probably look so ugly right now, you can feel how swollen and red your eyes and cheeks are, your self confidence plummeting to an all-time low.

“You are beautiful and strong, (Y/n), do not ever think less of yourself. You have good reason to feel the way you do, please do not think that you have to be stoic in front of me.” Like always, Jimin says exactly the right thing to ease your mind, using his hand to wipe your wet face and burrowing into the sheets with you attached to his side, his heat warming the icy sheets that drowned you when you had been alone.

You retired to bed early last night, which is why you can afford to wake up with the sun this morning. Jimin sleeps soundly behind you, but his presence is felt stiffly on your ass between the thin layers of clothing. Snow twinkles on your windowsill, probably the last snow of the season, but you find the sun beaming as brightly as ever to illuminate the room. With the weather beginning to warm in preparation for spring, you’ve grown accustomed to the gentle sound of melting snow dripping outside your window. Mornings like these are scarce and you plan to make the most of it.

You attempt to turn and face your beloved, but his arms tighten around your waist, locking you in your position. A sleepy groan tickles your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending a shiver through you.

“You’re up early.” Jimin mumbles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. His voice is always so deep and raspy in the mornings, his dialect coming forth with a yawn. You could listen to him speak like that forever, but all you can think about at the moment is how good his moans would sound with the added rumble of bass that comes from sleep.

“So are you.” You snort with a sly wiggle of your hips. The twitch of his length against you sends a flash of exhilaration through your system— time has been short lately and it has been far too long since you’ve last felt him. Apparently he feels the same way, his hand effortlessly gliding up your rib cage to palm at your clothed breast with a deep sigh. You can tell his eyes are still closed due to the laziness of his movements, but it doesn’t matter when his tender touches set your body on fire like this.

His lips find their way to your neck as he shifts closer, kissing and sucking gently enough not to leave marks but to get your heart racing with need. “Take this off.” You follow his instructions and promptly shed the nightgown from your body, leaving you nude against him as he presses himself to you once again, this time slipping a hand between your legs. Your nipples harden from the brief chill of the room before you adjust the covers over your shoulder again, and Jimin takes advantage of this with two fingers, twisting the bud between them to send a spike of pleasure down your spine.

You muffle a groan once his fingers begin to tease at your lower lips, spreading them and toying with the outer skin just to build your anticipation. He wants you to drip before he’s even touched you properly, to whimper into the sheets until you can’t take it anymore and call out his name in frustration. Your clit gets pinched between his fingers when he squeezes them closed, trapping the bud as he continues to rub you up and down, and you find yourself panting in a matter of seconds. Soon, his fingers start to get coated in the essence that seeps from you. It’s so sexy that he can barely stand it. Jimin loves to feel your warm juices trickling out of you, working you up almost feels better than tending to himself, and his breathing hitches too when you begin to wiggle in his grasp.

“Look at my gorgeous Queen, getting soaking wet from just a few light touches. So cock hungry this early in the morning.” His words make you quiver and whine, the teasing quality of his voice right up against the shell of your ear driving you absolutely insane. “I’ll give you what you want if you tell me~” You hadn’t expected him to be so playful after just waking up, but it’s a pleasant surprise.

“I want you to make me cum,” You breathe out between pants. “Then I want you to pump me full of your seed. Please, My King.” Your words have their own special effect on him, evident by the lustful groan he releases into your hair and how his hips subtly shift behind you. Immediately, his fingers move to your clit to lightly graze over the hood until you buck into him, only then does he add pressure. Your back arches into his palm as he continues to play with your nipple, having turned his attention to the other in order to provide the same treatment, pulling and tweaking at it, working the nerves until they’re raw and sensitive enough to have you gasping with every flick.

Jimin doesn’t need to be able to see you in your entirety to know how you look right now. You’re completely helpless to his touch, he can feel you writhing against him and heating up the space between the sheets as your temperature rises. He can feel your heart beating hard against your chest— and he wonders if you can feel his from his position pressed against your back. It has been a while since he’s allowed himself to indulge in these fantasies. He’s pleased to know that he still has every inch of you committed to memory and is able to so easily have you at his fingertips, quite literally. These past months, your focus has been solely on procreating in the bedroom and rarely for the fun of it, so this is refreshing. But he still asks anyway.

“You want me to spill my seed into you, hm? Are you fertile right now?” His words slip past your ears as you lose yourself to the circles he draws into your bud, but somehow you manage to catch them at the last second.

“It does not matter, I want you anyway.” The answer is no, you aren’t at your most fertile at the moment, but this isn’t about that. Regardless of if anything will come of it or not, you want to feel Jimin paint your walls white with his love, something you think you’ve become addicted to. You bask in the feeling of having him throb and twitch and lose control while at the mercy of your tight walls, even when he’s pounding your weak frame into whatever surface he’s decided to take you on, and the thought has you galloping toward your peak faster than expected.

His leg slips between yours to prop them open, two of his fingers dancing their way into your clenching entrance, the intrusion pulling a loud moan from your lips. They glide and twirl within you much to your delight, but before you can enjoy it fully, they pop out and slither back up to your clit with a thick coating of your own slick. It doesn’t bother you, you could cum like this easily, but what really makes you gape is the feeling of Jimin’s hard member grinding against your ass. You can feel that his briefs are now damp with a mixture of precum and your wetness as you continue to drip down your thighs and make a mess of yourself, and you can’t help but rock your hips into his motion. You grind into each other with sensual synchronization and soon he’s panting along with you, the swollen head of his cock peeking out from his briefs to wet your cheek, teasing you endlessly.

“Jimin,” You whine, praying that he’ll let you cum quickly this morning despite his teasing mood. Every buck into his fingers shoots jolts of pleasure through you and every press against his hot cock has you throbbing at your emptiness. It’s a never-ending loop that has both of you moaning in no time, and it isn’t long before the coil in your stomach tightens to its peak. “Fuck, I’m cumming.” You whisper quietly, your breath being stolen away by the feeling of your orgasm. Your husband groans behind you, forcing his own hips to jerk to a stop as you roll against him to ride out the waves. He can feel you pulsing against his fingers and suddenly craves to feel you around his member, removing his hand from between your legs to push away his bottoms.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” He whispers with soft kisses to your shoulder as you begin to relax again. His tip glides effortlessly against your drenched lips and the fire inside you reignites instantly.

“I am always ready for you, my love.” Turning your head, you find his lips and savor the passionate kiss you share, a warmth blooming in your chest that saves you from the cold of the bedroom. Ever so slowly he pushes inside you, bringing a hand up to hold your face to his as his tongue slips between your lips. Vibrations mingle throughout your bodies as you both moan, the insertion tight as he stretches you open in the early morning light, his morning wood always so sensitive especially with your recent bout of abstinence. On the first thrust his fingers intertwine with yours, and this is the most intimate moment you’ve had with him in a long while. It feels like ages have passed since you’ve indulged each other in slow sex and you are starting to realize just how much you’ve craved it. “I missed you.” You mumble against his lips, barely wanting to pull away to look at him.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Jimin smiles, his eyes still closed but hand still caressing your face. He uses it to skim down your figure, hooking under your leg to lift it over his own and allow him deeper into your cavern, angling himself until you squeeze his hand with a shaky moan.

He honestly thinks he could stay like this forever: wrapped up in your warmth, surrounded by blankets, giving you all the love and pleasure he can provide. Things have been so hectic these last few months, an odd tension growing between you two that he can always feel but can’t quite put his finger on, but in these calm moments before the chaos of the day, he feels completely safe and at ease. Being King is no easy task, this he expected, but this is the only time he gets to shed the expectations, the pretenses, the pressure and just be your lover. Just like at the beginning of your relationship— and how things were 8 months ago, when the Crown was first placed in his hands.

You feel almost like a rag doll in his arms as he snaps his hips into you, allowing him to take you and guide you to bliss. Your hips rock back into him subtly, inner muscles squeezing around his shaft and gripping onto him, begging him to stay buried inside to occupy your lonely walls and empty womb. Pressure builds in your lower abdomen again, accompanied by a flush that takes over your body and warms you uncomfortably under the sheets. Jimin tosses the coverings aside when it gets too much, sweat slicking where your bodies connect. Your nails dig into the flesh of his ass when you reach a hand back to rest on the muscle, groaning at how you can feel every movement whenever his hips surge forward, his strength jolting you with his slow, powerful strokes. His length curves perfectly inside you, touching all your favorite spots and it becomes increasingly apparent that you won’t last long like this. He encourages you with gentle sweet nothings tickled against your ear.

“My lovely wife, always so good to me.” Jimin nuzzles his face in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as his hand returns to your breast. “Always so soft and wet around my cock, darling. Are you getting close again, my love?” You whimper loudly and nod, not trusting your voice entirely when you’re feeling so breathless. “You sound so sweet moaning for me like that. Shall we let the entire castle know what a splendid morning we’re having together? Let them hear how well your King takes care of you.”

“Jimin~” You croon as he picks up pace, hips slapping against your backside and filling the air alongside your heavy breathing. Removing his bottom hand from yours, he props himself up on his elbow to look down over you, opening his legs wider to gain as much leverage as possible to fuck into you. The speed and power he achieves like this has you crying out into the open air, uncaring of who hears how wrecked you sound. You’re certain that the guards keeping watch at your door are uncomfortable by the display of lust, but who are they to judge when Jimin touches just the right places within you to have your body coming apart at the seams?

“Cum for me, my love,” Your husband’s voice feels distant as your thoughts float away. You are not aware enough to marvel at the sheer strength and endurance of his hips, his pace not faltering even once. Crumpling the sheets beneath you, you turn your face into the pillow as your body starts to quiver, a warm hand gripping onto your hip to keep you in place against the onslaught of pleasure. “There you go, milk me of my seed.”

Just the simple thought he plants in your mind’s eye is enough to send you into heaven, your walls clamping down around him with a scream of bliss, just as he requested. Feeling him so deeply makes your eyes roll, every stroke kissing the entrance of your womb and you pray he gives you every last drop he has. With only a few more pushes of his hips, you feel his body tense behind you and shiver, an overwhelmingly sexy groan breathed right into your ear.

It takes several moments of gentle thrusting before he’s satisfied, your body sufficiently full of his sperm and skin tingling with the aftermath of a beautiful orgasm you happily shared. Jimin kisses his way down from the side of your cheeks and neck to your shoulder and arm, ignoring the thin layer of perspiration that dries quickly in the brisk morning air. Though soft, he remains inside of you as he settles himself back against the mattress and holds your body to his, lifting the sheets to cover you before the chill returns. You feel safe. Completely and utterly safe and comfortable in your lover’s arms as you drift back to sleep.

But the peace is short lived because just as you begin to dream again, you feel Jimin pull out of you and shift away, attempting to be as stealthy as possible as he slips from bed. He winces when you turn to your other side to face him, sleepy eyes watching as he pulls on his underwear again. You are unable to return the sweet smile he offers you, already missing the way his skin felt against yours.

“Will you not stay to cuddle me?” You ask quietly, unable to understand why he must leave so soon. The smile on his face turns sad, eyes flickering to the door as several consecutive knocks sing on the wood.

“I have many duties to fulfill today, my love.”

‘And no time for me...’ You think with a poorly concealed frown, burrowing deeper into the bedspread when he opens the door for your servants, who get to work on preparing him for the day immediately. Deep down you know you likely will not interact with him until nightfall as he scrambles around the castle and kingdom serving his duties, but you try not to feel the distasteful irritation in your chest and send him off with a kiss when he makes his exit. Sometimes, though, you cannot help but think he was more eager to be with you when he was merely a soldier.

Jimin sits at a round table meeting with his advisors to discuss the affairs of the kingdom, in which there is not much to report. This is a mandatory meeting they must have weekly and they rarely last long. Most of the time, the conversations divulge into unrelated, off topic subjects just to pass the time, and Jimin has no problem with this on most days. He has a good relationship with his advisors and there is almost never any need for him to use his status as King during their discussions. Today, however, his fuse is a little short. It may be because of the all too frequent restless nights he has been experiencing, or from the lack of quality time he has spent with you, but he is far more irritable than usual. All he can think about is how disappointed you looked when he left and how much he’d rather be cuddled up back in bed with you instead of sitting in front of this counsel.  

“Do not worry, the Queen has already taken care of it.” Someone says, he does not know who said it because he is barely paying attention.

“Pardon my coarseness, Your Highness, but it is my understanding that Her Majesty has not yet conceived.” The man presents this in a questioning manner, but Jimin can hear the underlying condescension.

“You are correct.” He replies in a low voice.

“It has been 9 months since your matrimony. She should bear your heirs with haste.” The room swells with voices as his advisors begin to talk about you, each taking their turn to put in their opinions and criticism. He can hardly believe what he is hearing. They speak as though it is your fault that you are not pregnant, as if you are being defiant by not bearing him children, like it is a choice that you have made consciously. Anger bubbles in his chest, blood boiling as they continue ranting about you right in front of him as though they were not saying terrible things about his wife. He stands abruptly upon hearing someone tell a story about how his wife refused to birth him any more children because he “was acting like one” himself. Jimin interrupts just as the man is about to make a comment about stubborn wives, his voice billowing from his throat like heavy plumes of smoke that quickly engulf the room.

“How dare you speak of my wife— your Queen— in such a disrespectful manner! Do you accuse her of treachery against me? Against this nation? You have the gall to insult her efforts on something she cannot control, to doubt her intentions and loyalty to this kingdom and her own family? I should have you all removed from this castle permanently for suggesting such a thing, what do you have to say about that?!” He looks around the silent room at each of their faces, all of them looking utterly shocked by his outburst. Jimin has never needed to assert his authority over them like this, but they have gone too far today. Though he is the youngest in the room, he is easily the most intimidating when angry, regardless of if he were the King or not. Drawing in a deep breath, he tries to calm himself, running a hand through his hair as he takes his seat once more. “It is my fault anyway, not hers. It is my duty as well.”

It is quiet for a long while, the men around the table hesitate to speak again until one man builds up the courage to break the stillness.

“Do not despair, Your Highness, you are both still young, there is plenty of time to have children.” He reassures, followed by similar comforting phrases from the others. Jimin does not respond as he stares out of the window, a solemn look overtaking his face in place of the relaxed and neutral expression he normally wears. He wonders if you face this criticism regularly wherever you go, if people who are supposed to be your supporters are slowly losing hope in you. You already beat yourself up about not being pregnant, he fears what would happen if those thoughts were validated by others. Something must be done about this immediately.

It is silent for another long pause. “You are all dismissed.” He says with a flick of his hand.

*** *** ***

Your servants follow you around quite stubbornly, attempting (and failing) to be as unnoticeable as possible, but their presence is the only thing you can focus on. If you sigh too heavily they all come scurrying over, asking what was the matter, offering to take care of whatever task you had set out to complete. Yes, it was your mother’s dying wish for you to accept your loyal attendants, and it was your father’s order for them to look after you, but you cannot help but feel that this treatment is a bit excessive. It is almost laughable when you reflect on it: how just a year prior you were known largely for your independence, and now you could hardly find a moment to yourself. The only times you can get away with having minimal supervision is when you go out into town, where you may request only one or two guards or servants to accompany you.

Since becoming the official Queen of this nation, you have taken it upon yourself to care for the nuances of your society, to help individuals and keep a close relationship with the people. Jimin was focused on many of the larger issues that affected groups of citizens, like rebuilding one of the marketplaces that suffered damages in a fire last week, as well as handling international business with neighboring kingdoms. Naturally, everyone took a great liking to him and his policies and the people offered him immense support, but your job as Queen was to support the people. So, every week you go into town and buy a book from a novice writer, read it, then publish an unofficial review for the stories you enjoy. Not only does this boost the writer’s credibility, popularity, and sales, it also allows you to communicate with your people. Your presence in town never goes unnoticed, and often times people give you great recommendations on stories you should interest yourself with. It is the highlight of your week since all you can do is read in the quiet moments within the castle.

It is now early spring, trees budding with sweet smelling blossoms and the beginnings of greenery, displaying their proud potency in brilliant hues that bleach you into the gray of a dead willow. Still, your spirits are beginning to lift the farther you distance yourself from the castle. Walking through town, you breathe in all of the scents around you. Street vendors sell an array of foods that you do not see within the castle often and your mouth waters as you step up to one, picking out a pastry covered in sugar, something that you can easily pull apart with your fingers without the need of utensils. Before you can lift it to your mouth, the guard beside you stops you, plucking a small piece for himself to taste for poison. As a royal, you always thought this job was unnecessary and ridiculous before, but after the catastrophe at your wedding, you now understand it’s significance. That does not stop you from pouting, however, as you are forced to wait at least 5 minutes before the stiff guard allows you to dig into your snack.

You continue through the market, admiring crafts from artisans with masterful handiwork and struggle to keep your hand out of your purse whenever something catches your eye. This market is not the closest to the palace, in fact, it is quite far from it, but you have found that the most valuable work comes from the honest workers that live in smaller homes and lead honest lives, not from the traders and merchants who buy their goods from others and claim them as their own in the wealthy districts. The people who live on the outskirts work harder, and they are the ones you need to support the most.

“This would look beautiful hanging from the palace walls, don’t you think?” You turn toward Lilian as she browses the collection of jewelry that sits beside the tapestry you are holding, her eyes inspecting it briefly.

“I think it would look lovely in one of the sitting rooms.” She grins. Lilian always accompanies you on these types of trips. You value her opinion and reason and sympathize with her lack of outside interaction. Both of you are in the palace at almost all times and you are sure you both would go crazy if not for these couple hours outside those claustrophobic walls.

“I think so, too!” You agree, turning to the guard who continues to survey the area. “What do you think, Kyungsoo?”

He looks at it for a while, then at the others around it, finally bringing his eyes back to yours. “Whatever you desire, Your Majesty. My opinion is insignificant.” His answer causes your face to fall, rolling your eyes at him because he always says that. This is another reason why you bring Lilian along.

Sauntering into your favorite bookstore, you cheerfully greet the clerk and begin browsing for newly released books. Not long after, two women approach you, one of which you recognize to be the bookkeeper’s daughter and a new friend of yours. She always comes to talk to you about the store’s newest additions, and it gives others around her the confidence to speak to you as well. Today she is with a slightly older woman who she introduces as a rising author.

“I believe I have read one of your books before; remind me, which ones have you written?” You prompt, making the woman blush and brighten.

“Snowflower is my most popular work. It is all thanks to your review that I was finally able to get noticed in the writing community!” She beams, sparking conversation with you and Lilian about the book that the two of you enjoyed so much. It must be more than 15 minutes later that you finally decide on what to purchase, you have been listening closely to all that the ladies have to say about each author and the summaries of each story. There were multiple that piqued your interest and you could not decide so you ended up with 3 books in hand as your friend walked you to the register. One of them happens to be a story following the trials and struggles of a mother who becomes pregnant during a war. Of course you hadn’t picked this book for its theme of motherhood. It promised to be a good read— though you had overlooked it many times before today— and you certainly did not choose it because it was the closest thing to a lesson on pregnancy you could get without purchasing the entire series of “Preparing for Parenthood”, perched on a shelf that you found yourself eying the majority of your stay in the store.

Your friend talks mindlessly as she rings you up for your books, inspecting your odd selection. “So tell me, Your Majesty, are you with ch- ow!” The woman beside her pinches her arm just out of your sight, offering up a tight lipped smile when she turns to pout at her. A short flash of realization crosses her face before she returns her attention to you.

“Am I with whom?” You ask, confused.

“Are you with t-the children! Have you- have you come to see the preschoolers perform today?” She covers quickly with a nervous smile. Lilian glares at her when you are facing the other way.

“Oh! I recall hearing that they will be performing a play today, I nearly forgot!” The people around you sigh in relief at your obliviousness, resuming conversation as though nothing had happened. They give you instructions to the school and you rush there, Lilian carrying your books and Kyungsoo leading the way.

When you arrive, there are only parents and family members filling the auditorium, signifying that the play has not yet started. They chat amongst themselves in a rumble of murmurs, but the noise quiets quickly once you are noticed by a teacher that stands near the stage area.

“Her Majesty!” She gasps. “Welcome, welcome!” She practically runs to you, approaching clumsily while Kyungsoo moves to shield you with his body, stopping the woman before she can get too close. You gently move him aside to allow the woman to see and speak directly to you. “I had no idea that the Queen would be visiting today! To what do I owe you the pleasure?”

“I have come to see the children perform. It is imperative of me as Queen to support our kingdom’s youth.” You smile, noticing a weird look that crosses her face for a moment before smoothing out. Lilian has a tight smile spread across her lips just out of your peripheral.

“Of course! Well, you are just in time, the show is about to begin.” She tries to clear the front row of parents for you, but you insist that the parents of the children should get the best seats, settling for the chairs she pulls up for you at the sides of the small theater.

The moment the toddlers waddle onto stage in their costumes, your heart liquifies. They are the cutest things you have ever seen. Some of them look confused, some are pouting, but most of them are excitedly waving at their parents in the crowd, nearly tripping over each other from not looking at what’s happening in front of them. Even more heartwarming is the reactions of the parents, each and every one of them sitting up straighter and beaming with joy at the sight of their offspring, even the parents who had previously looked bored. Your attention is split between what is happening onstage and in the crowd throughout the entire play, watching the silent interactions between child and parent. You could always tell which tot belonged to which parent because of their reactions. Every child had their own lines, and whenever one stepped up to speak, the parents would lean in closer to the stage or straighten up to send a thumbs up to the wide eyes that stare back at them.

At some point, you had begun to imagine what it would be like if your own child were up there. You scan the faces of the toddlers, determining that a shy little girl bears the closest resemblance to your future baby, and you watch her the entire rest of the play. Her finger reaches into her nose several times during the performance, something your toddler would be forced to learn not to do, and she appears to be quite hesitant to say her lines. You and Jimin would act just as her parents are now, waving at her and mouthing words of encouragement when it seems like she will not speak at all, smiling proudly after she executes her parts flawlessly. Jimin would probably hold your hand as you watch her and you would be able to feel the sweat on his palms from how much he would worry for her, whispering to you how he hopes she will not cry because of how shy and quiet she tends to be. And you would whisper back that your baby is talented and will do great because she is very mature for her age, being a Princess and all.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for a minute and you are so caught up in your fantasy that you almost miss when everyone stands to clap at the end of the show. You rise slowly and offer your applause, cheeks hurting from smiling too much, but you cannot ignore the bittersweet feeling in your chest that comes when all of the children disperse and run into the arms of their waiting parents. And you are forced to remember your situation. The teacher begs you to make closing remarks and you take your place on the empty stage to address your people. Unable to focus properly, you barely know what you are saying; you thank the students and teachers for a great show, repeat a total of 4 times how adorable the children were, speak at length about how much you enjoyed everything, and once you notice that you’re rambling, you conclude quickly and move from the spotlight awkwardly. The families don’t seem to notice as they return their attention to gushing over their babies.

Just as you are about to make your exit, someone runs up to you and stops at your feet, her hair barely reaching the bottoms of your knees as she looks up at you. It is the girl you had been watching, and her arms reach up to be held once you make eye contact with her. At the approval of her parents, you lift her light body and rest her on your hip, the position comfortable and natural despite you having held a child only a few times in your life. You congratulate her and she smiles at you, turning to look at her parents as you try not to marvel at how perfectly innocent and sweet her face is.

“Your Majesty,” Her mother greets with a bow. “I was very surprised to see you here today. I had heard that you often come to these parts of town, but I would have never expected you to grace us with your presence on an occasion like this.” She is very polite, noting how the little girl has taken a liking to you already.

“I believe it is important to keep in touch with my people, and what better way is there to connect with you all than to attend a performance of my kingdom’s children?” You grin.

“I heard rumors that lately you had been feeling quite under the weather.” At this you quirk an eyebrow. She continues. “Many had assumed you were pregnant, so word spread that the King would not allow you out of the palace and that is why you had been absent for the past few weeks.” As if Jimin could tell you what to do. Yes, it is true that you had not gone outside of the palace in about 3 weeks, but that was of your own accord.

Jimin’s mother had taken a short vacation to your home upon your request after you detailed to her your troubles with conceiving in a lengthy letter, and she spent those three weeks improving your physical health with things like yoga and kegal exercises, as well as offering you very blunt and personal advice that you were almost too embarrassed to put into practice. Jimin warned you of how she was unafraid to talk about intimate topics, recalling a specific conversation she had with him in his teenage years, but you were still unprepared for the sheer amount of information she gave you during that time. You simply did not have time to go on your weekly shopping trips.

“That is... not the case.” You reply, adjusting the girl on your hip.

“Oh, then you are not pregnant?” The woman seems surprised and Lilian seems almost outraged, cutting in when you open and close your mouth with no other response.

“We have not been to this part of your town yet, are there any places you suggest we visit?” Lilian’s voice sounds through her teeth, swiftly changing the subject. You didn’t think you would have trouble talking about this, but here you stand, blinking away tears at her question. The girl’s mother seems to realize her mistake when she takes in your watery eyes that you try to hide with a fake smile. You let Lilian continue her conversation as you wander away a few steps, pretending to inspect your surroundings as you gather yourself, until a nearby newspaper catches your eye. On the cover are the words “KING’S NEW ORDERS! PROTECT THE QUEEN” and your heart jumps at the suddenness. You bend carefully to turn the page and read the article, a mix of emotions rushing through your body that almost makes you lose grip on the child in your arms when you understand their significance. You quickly return her to her parents, excusing yourself from them on the pretense that you had to be back at the palace for important business, and you instruct Kyungsoo to guide you back to the carriage to head home.

Upon entering your bedroom, Jimin finds a note on the bed in your writing, reading it with curiosity. It leads him to a familiar place and he hurries there with mild concern, mind rushing with thoughts of what your note could have meant.

Curled up in your favorite chair, he finds you reclining with a new book in hand as you look through the window of your Secret Library. Your servants know nothing of this place, you and Jimin have made certain that it’s location remains hidden, so this is the only place you can truly be alone. To his knowledge, you only come here when something is troubling you or when you need to think, and his mind jumps to all of the worst case scenarios of what could have happened.

“My love, you wished to speak with me?” He asks, approaching urgently as according to your urgent letter. But you remain relaxed and unresponsive as you continue to flip through the pages of your novel. He looks down to inspect your choice reading, taking note that it speaks of a woman who, in this current scene, is just learning that she is pregnant. You take your time reading it, only turning to him after the chapter is finished. When you turn to him your eyes are blank and unreadable.

“Why have you placed a censorship on our people, My King?” You ask suddenly, and it takes him aback.

“A c-censorship?” He stutters out.

“Yes, you recently placed a censorship on the people of this kingdom, have you not?” You look him in the eyes and find that he can barely hold eye contact, his entire body tense. It is difficult for him to respond, especially since you were not supposed to know about this, at least not this soon.

“It is not a censorship.” He evades.

“Really? So you have not ordered our people to be silent about anything pertaining to pregnancy and children around me?” He fidgets under your piercing tongue, unsure of how to respond. “That sounds quite close to censorship to me.”

“It is only to protect you, My Queen,” He relents, stepping closer to you as you snap your book closed. “People can be very insensitive and I did not want you to be hurt by their words.”

“Hurt by their words? What words would they have said to me? I am not a child, Jimin, you need not protect me from words!” Your volume rises along with the redness of your face. “Are the people criticizing me in some way? What have they said? What have you heard to make you so wary of words?”

“Their words hurt me, (Y/n).” He says quietly as he lowers himself to his knees and takes hold of your hands when he sees the worry in your eyes. “What I heard hurt me, and I could not bear the thought that you may hear such things too. I did not do this because I think you are not strong enough to endure it, I did it because you do not deserve to hear such negativity.”

“Even so, how dare you make such a rash decision without consulting me.” You remove your hands from his and he does not reach for them again. “You saw me directly after your council meeting last week and mentioned not a word of this to me. If you had asked, I would have told you that none of this is necessary, that I can handle whatever my people have to say about me because I am the Queen!” Your voice cracks annoyingly as you fight back hot tears. “I should be able to answer them when they ask me questions. And maybe I should hear what they say about me. Because they are correct, I am not pregnant and I do not know if I can ever become pregnant and maybe they should be worried. My sensitivity should not warrant their silence.”

“You are not sensitive, my love, you have every right to feel the way that you do.” You ignore him.

“But what troubles me the most is how you so easily excluded me. You acted without my consent and planned to keep this from me indefinitely— you even made sure Lilian was the first to know so that she could keep watch over me today! What happened to our communication, Jimin? We should be able to talk to each other about anything and everything, but instead you felt the need to keep something so important a secret from me. You could have simply talked to me and told me how you feel. It feels as though we have not spoken in days, it is almost like you aren’t trying anymore. It feels like you have given up.”

The fire in your tone dies down until all that is left is pain, and Jimin realizes that it is he who has hurt you the most.

Lilian told him about where you went today and how you acted. She told him of the lost and pained look in your eyes as you watched the children, even though you were smiling. Most importantly, she relayed your exact reaction when that woman asked if you were pregnant. It was just as he had feared. Putting these pieces of information together with the book you had been reading, Jimin knows that this argument is about more than what you’d like him to believe.

“This is no longer about the censorship, is it?” He asks cautiously, guilt leaking onto his features. You appear shocked at first, not having realized your own subliminal shift from the topic, but then your face twists with emotion and you bite your lip and turn your head from him in an effort to hold yourself together. You are tired of crying in front of him.

“You-“ Sniffling, you try to control the shakiness of your voice. “You do not talk to me anymore. I never know how you are feeling these days because you have been avoiding me.”

“I do not try to avoid you, my love.” He frowns, moving his hand to rest on your knee.

“It feels like you are. You do not come to my health examinations anymore, you can never seem to make time for them.” He opens his mouth to speak, but you don’t let him. “I am always forced to go through them alone and I sit there the entire time wishing that you were there to hold me or reassure me, but I’m always alone. And it may be easier for you to hear the bad news from my mouth, but it hurts me more every time I am forced to tell you that I have failed once again. And we haven’t tried in a long while, I am beginning to fear that you no longer want to touch me.” Your eyes convey a deeper pain than your words can communicate, and the earnestness in them when you look at him breaks his heart. He didn’t mean to make you feel this way, it‘s the last thing he would want.

“I still very much want you, My Queen, I always will. I have been hesitant to initiate anything with you as of late because you seemed so disheartened and dejected and I did not want to further upset you with inappropriate timing. I have also been struggling to keep my optimism, forgive me for my misjudgment.”

“That is another problem,” You sigh, knitting your eyebrows. “I have no idea what you are thinking or feeling. You always comfort me and tell me that I can be open with my emotions with you, yet you do not listen to your own advice and tend to lock up around me. It will not lessen my sadness, but to know that you are just as affected by this as I am and that I am not overreacting would give me the tiniest bit of comfort. But when you force yourself to appear unaffected, it feels as though I am the only one who cares.”

“But I am the King,” Jimin starts, conflicted. “I cannot afford to show weakness or lament in our misfortunes. I must be strong for the people.”

“Strength is not the only trait of value!” You hiss, irritated that he has this perception that is so inaccurate. “Emotion does not always entail vulnerability and the people will see that. They adore how much you care about them, how you grieve with them when you learn of their losses, so why would it be inappropriate for you to care about me? Do not forget that you are also my husband. That is what you signed up for on our wedding day; you married me and the kingdom followed. Why is it that I am never your priority?!”

Sadness transforming into boiling rage, you stand and push past him toward the exit. This is your first real argument with him and it seems that everything that has been bothering you for the past few months is now exploding out of your mouth. You did not mean for your words to be so harsh, yet you could not control them and figured that you should let everything out while you had the chance. Much of your frustration is about your own incompetence, but you redirect it toward him because you cannot handle anymore mental self-abuse. A tiny part of you wants him to yell back at you and affirm everything you already thought about the direction of your relationship just so you could be right about something for once. Most of you, however, wants him to run after you, take you into his arms, look you in the eye and dispel all of your worries by pouring out his heart to you.

And that is exactly what he does.

“My love, do not run away.” He says gently, grabbing your hand before you can even make it 3 steps past him. He moves to the front of you, taking your face in his palms so he can stare into your eyes, hoping they can fill in the blanks between his words. “You are always my priority and you always will be. I-“ He sighs, looking away for a second before returning to you. “I do not always make the best choices, and for that I apologize. Being your husband and a King is far different than being a military general, and it is taking longer to adjust than I anticipated. I love you so much, to the point where I am afraid of making mistakes and losing your heart somehow, so I try too hard to be perfect. I take care of your kingdom because it was yours before it was mine and I know how dearly you hold it’s people. I try to be as tough as possible for you because I thought you would expect it of me when you were feeling weak.” His hands fall to your shoulders. “As a General, I learned that the only way to gain respect and love was to work hard and solve all issues, but it appears that I will need a different mindset in this situation. Because it seems I have become too consumed with work and too busy to show my love for you, and I know I will need to change that if I want to be a good father to our children.”

“You do not need to change at all, Jimin. Who you are trying so hard to be is not the same man you were when I met you. Yes, you were strong in front of others, but you never closed yourself to me. I do not want you to change or pretend to be tough, I want you to be you, because that is who I married.” This causes him to think back to how he has behaved in recent months. Maybe he was avoiding your appointments purposely so he wouldn’t have the chance to break down in front of the doctor or Lilian. And maybe he had been ignoring you so he wouldn’t have to face his own pain that you reflected. He’s been treating you unfairly in an effort to play a role that doesn’t exist, and he welcomes the guilt that slaps him in the face at the realization. He hates that he ended up like this even after all that you went through in the aftermath of your wedding. It is like he had forgotten all that he promised you.

“I apologize for everything, My Queen. I will remove the censorship immediately.” His head bows with heaviness. “I do still want a family with you, but maybe we should take a break from trying, just for a little while. Maybe this building friction between us and the stress it caused has been affecting our fertility. Maybe we are trying too hard and should take your advice to just be ourselves. A baby should be made from love, not by expectation. I do not want-“ He thinks about his next sentence carefully. “I want to improve our relationship first, before our attention is shifted to other matters. We are young and have not yet been married a year, my love, we will have plenty of time to conceive. Let me make up for the neglect you have suffered these past months. Let us take it one day at a time.”

He’s right, your relationship has been strained, and it is not only from the fact that you are not pregnant. The discord between you two has taken a toll on your body: you are constantly exhausted, your head pounds with headaches most days, and the loneliness has changed your positive attitude into one of sulking and disdain. It has changed you. So how could you think of bringing a child into this world when you are at this level of dysfunction? Things needed to be resolved first, and here he is, willing to work everything out with you after accepting his faults. You couldn’t possibly reject him.

It’s been nearly a month since your argument, and things have taken a turn for the better. You helped Jimin realize something he didn’t quite understand before: that as King, anything he says goes, so he has been taking frequent days off to spend time with you. He’s taken you on many dates around the kingdom, showing you his favorite places to go when he was a child, exploring different towns you hadn’t gotten a chance to see yet, he even accompanied you on your shopping day to meet some of the friends you’d made. Being able to spend time with him like this reminds you of what it felt like in the beginning of your relationship. The novelty of seeing him and the excitement you’d feel in the pit of your stomach. Except this excitement is now from your curiosity of what activities you’ll do with him that day and not from the thrill of possibly being caught together by servants.

You’ve kept things fairly innocent these past few weeks, focusing on rebuilding your emotional connection instead of being physical. You’d lost a lot of weight during the months you were at odds with Jimin, but you’re happy to say that you’re gaining it back now that you’re paying more attention to your health and happiness and not the crazy diets and detoxes that people recommended to you to help with conception. What’s more, you’ve been keeping busy by accompanying Jimin on his political duties instead of remaining put away in the palace. He didn’t want to involve you in political affairs to keep your stress levels low, but you remind him that you’ve been involved in things like that since you where a young princess, so this is the norm. So now you happily travel with him out of the kingdom to attend meetings with neighboring rulers and assure them of your health.

This is the first trip you’ve taken, and it feels absolutely liberating. Seokjin insisted that you and your husband stay in his family’s vacation home located in the area— one of many acquired throughout his travels as a collector and salesman— and it is arguably nicer than the one offered by the royals of this kingdom. Perhaps not as luxurious (though very close to it) but certainly more private. You’d take any opportunity to escape any hovering servants. Your eyes sparkle as you walk through the doors, taking in the modern furniture, high ceilings, and breathtaking view of the green valley and hills surrounding you. The altitude is quite a bit higher than you’re used to, the kingdom poised along a mountainside and sourcing its water from the river that flows through the valley below.

You blame this altitude for the sick feeling in your stomach and the lightness of your head, trying your hardest to keep your etiquette and not plop face first onto the huge mattress. You sit gingerly on the edge, aided by Jimin, who kept hold of your arm ever since he saw you swaying when you stepped out of the carriage. He fusses over you, letting out a disgruntled grumble when you remind him that you saw the doctor before your departure and she found no troubling conditions within you— not even pregnancy, which you were disappointed to hear, but not surprised. The symptoms come and go and you assure him that all you need is some rest and you’ll be back on your feet, and he leaves you under the watch of Lilian and Kyungsoo (who accompany you everywhere) while he travels to the castle to greet the King and assure him of your safe arrival. You nap while he’s away and awake just in time for dinner, feeling refreshed and symptom free, much to his relief.

Being away from the palace and kingdom is sure to do wonders for your physical and mental health. Just being here with the people you love is a breath of fresh air, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. Seated at the table accompanied by Jimin, Lilian, and Kyungsoo, you feel this is the closest thing you’ll have to a family dinner for a long while. As your servant, Lilian never eats with you at the same time, let alone at the same table, but you begged her to join you and fill the evening air with casual chatter. Kyungsoo is your favorite guard and you’ve always wanted to get to know him, but he remains relatively quiet throughout the meal and never lets his guard down, taking the farthest seat from his monarchs to silently observe. Typical. With your energy levels still quite low, Jimin and Lilian do their best to raise your spirits by showing off their goofy sides, telling stories and making you laugh almost nonstop. But just seeing them bond so well is enough to make your heart swell. You wonder if Jimin will have this type of relationship with your children, one where they can joke freely and build trust with each other without being hindered by the forced power dynamic. You hope their relationship will be better than the somewhat estranged one you have with your father.

“Are you comfortable, my love?” Jimin asks as you settle in for bed. This mattress seems to be made from the clouds of the heavens, you’ve never felt relaxation like this. You’ll have to purchase one for your own bedroom.

“Yes, My King.” You return, grinning at the way his cheeks lift. He climbs in behind you after blowing out the lanterns, the scent of smoke wafting gently through the room.

“How are you feeling? Better?” He sounds tired and you have no desire to keep him awake with your troubles, so you nod.

“Yes, after my nap and dinner, I feel just fine.” You don’t mention your growing headache because you’re certain a good night’s sleep will resolve it. You’re feeling uncharacteristically tired, exhausted even, and it’s most likely from the long journey here. Hopefully, you’ll wake up refreshed and energized in the morning.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything tonight.” He whispers, already starting to drift off.

“I won’t trouble you.” You assure him, sinking into slumber.

“Are you sure you are well enough to go out today?” Lilian sifts through your clothing, trying to decide what to dress you in for today’s events, accounting for the warm mid-spring weather. She is alone in the bedroom with you, Jimin having stepped out to give you privacy while getting ready.

“Yes, I am feeling much better.” This isn’t a lie. Although you felt extremely sluggish upon first waking up, you now feel great. Jimin had asked you about a thousand questions before leaving bed this morning and at breakfast, and you dispelled each one of his worries with confidence.

“I am glad to hear that, but please do pay attention to your condition, Your Highness.” She says this as she holds up a pristine gown for your approval, handing it to you when you nod both at her words and fashion choice.

She doesn’t need to vocalize what’s on her mind, you know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you’ve been having the same thoughts. But your doctor was very clear that you are not pregnant when you saw her before the trip. Also, you bleed 2 weeks ago, and though it was short-lived, it was accompanied by cramps and headaches, dutifully reminding you of your empty womb. So you ignore Lilian’s concerns and move about your day like normal, smothering the tiny bud of hope that tries to bloom in your chest.

“Are you excited for today’s meeting?” Moving away from the topic, she smiles at you through the mirror at the way your face lights up, beginning her work on your hair.

“This is the most excited I have felt in a long while! It will be my first diplomatic duty as Queen.” Finally, you feel useful.

“Would you like me to accompany you?” What she means is ‘would you like me to keep an eye on you to make sure you are feeling okay/ nothing bad happens’ but you pretend not to notice.

“No, Lilian, I want you to treat this as a vacation of sorts. You work so hard my humble, loyal friend. Go and explore the towns, have fun while we’re away from the kingdom.”

“I do not want a vacation, I want to make sure you are alright.” She responds quietly, blushing. You hum.

“Respectfully, I do not need to be looked after like a child.” You chuckle. “I can do well on my own. Besides, Jimin and Kyungsoo will be there if anything happens.”

“Then I will take my leave tomorrow after I make sure you are alright today.” She says stubbornly, not meeting your eyes in the mirror. “I cannot relax in good conscience without being assured of your safety.” Nodding, you accept her terms with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Queen (Y/n).” King Jackson smiles at you, bowing his head in greeting. You grin widely as you sit across from him and his wife at the large conference table, Jimin placed closely at your side.

“You as well, Jackson.” Last you saw him, he was a prince. In fact, he submitted the first marriage proposal you’d ever received, asking your father for your hand in marriage as soon as he heard you were of age. He is a little less than 4 years older than you, handsome, bubbly personality, likable and charming on all fronts, and you had no qualms with marrying him, but you also had no desire to leave your kingdom to rule another. As King, he would have you move into his castle and be at his service where you would likely not hold any power or say in most matters involving the people, something that deeply displeased you, so you turned him down. Now he has a wife and several small children, as well as the throne and an entire kingdom to lead. And as of your coronation, he is your kingdom’s closest ally.

“No need to be so formal, Queen.” He jokes, immediately setting a relaxed atmosphere. You are meeting to discuss and update the terms of a treaty between your allied nations, one that your fathers had written and agreed upon many years ago, but legally needs to be reviewed thanks to the recent shift in power. Your father is quite close with Jackson’s own, therefore you have a good relationship with the young King from years of getting acquainted during your childhood. Jimin, however, has no such history with the man and seems rather tense around the lighthearted playful. “I was disappointed when you refused by marriage proposal, but it seems that you have chosen a handsome and competent spouse in my place, just as I have.” He grins, winking at his wife, Lena.

“It was never ‘your place’, do not be so big headed,” You roll your eyes but he ignores your quip, eyes trained on Jimin.

“We spoke yesterday evening, but I am intrigued to get to know more of you, King Park. May I call you Jimin?” Jackson barely waits for a reply before continuing. “I must know more of the man whom I am to be allied with, and the man who married the ever-so-independent princess.”

“I must admit, I am curious about you, too. But if my beloved trusts and acknowledges you, then I will do the same.” Reaching under the table, Jimin’s hand finds yours and you smirk, pleased that he won’t let the other King intimidate him.

“Regarding the treaty;” Jackson pulls out a long document, skimming over the lengthy script that you are both irritatingly familiar with. “Will our kingdom’s continue to remain allied during times of war, help financially and provide resources in times of natural disaster, respect the borders set by each nation without the intention of gaining territory, and continue to keep trade borders open?” He reads off the major points of the list, you and Jimin answering with a ‘yes’ to each. “Is there anything else you would like to add?”

“Not that I can think of.” You respond, Jimin saying the same. Feeling satisfied by your responses, Jackson signs his name under the print of your fathers, passing the document to you for your signature. But you slide the paper to your husband, whose name appears in ink now instead of yours. Surprised by this, you can see the unfiltered comment bubbling out from the brazen King’s dome.

“I would not have expected, (Y/n), that you would submit the powers of your status to a man.” It is obvious that he has already assumed that your action means that you no longer hold the highest authority in your own land, but you are both quick to correct him.

“You are mistaken.” Your voices harmonize into one as you say this, Jimin continuing on to explain. “My Queen has not yielded even an inch of power to me. As I am sure you know, she is fully capable of handling affairs such as these, any responsibility she has shifted to me has been due to her own discretion.” Though his tongue is quick, Jimin is sure to keep a light, non-malicious tone so as not to offend your friend. You’d much rather focus on internal public affairs, leaving international and business related issues to your husband. But it seems others have the wrong idea about you.

The man across from you blinks at this, raising his eyebrows, and you know Jimin has just gained a large amount of respect in his eyes. You find it quite flattering to see him so defensive of you and you give an approving squeeze of his hand.

“As expected,” Jackson hums with a grin, receiving the document as Jimin passes it back to him. “Well, it seems that our business here is complete! Shall we have champagne to celebrate this swift agreement?” He doesn’t realize his error until his wife nudges him in the ribs and he looks up to see your faces pulled into wide-eyed frowns. “Ah, yes— my apologies,” He scratches his neck bashfully. “Then, may I interest you in some exercise?” Eyes boring straight into Jimin’s, he asks this as the men share a look.

“Oh, this is so exciting!” Lena beams, nearly bouncing in her seat as you both observe from a bench on the side of the field. Somehow you hadn’t expected this when Jackson offered his proposal. Your husbands are standing in a marked area with protective gear covering their bodies and gleaming swords, preparing for a sparring match in the warm weather. The sun beats down on you as you squint at them, using your hand to shade your eyes before Lilian appears with a parasol to place over your head. “Have you ever seen your husband fight before?” She asks, staring at your side profile.

“Never.” You respond. “This should be interesting.” Admittedly, you tend to shy away from violence, resenting the thought of people battling each other for bloody glory. Though you are in charge of the military, you never ask for too many details, and skillfully avoid any training grounds near the castle. It may be ironic, then, that you married a General who has seen more battles than he’s cared to mention and carries more scars than he’d care to explain. But you must admit that you’re intrigued by the spectacle he’s sure to put on for you, comforted by the fact that this is completely safe.

“Jackson has been training sword for most of his life, but has never seen an actual battle. I wonder how their skills will compare.” Lena states proudly, sipping from the drink one of her servants comes to offer, dismissed when you decline.

“I hear that you were a General, King Park.” Jackson checks the cap at the tip of his sword, nodding to the instructor that stands at his side.

“I’d like to think that I still am one.” Jimin responds as he stretches out his stiff muscles.

“Even after being promoted to Commander in Chief?”

“I’ve done nothing to earn that title but get married.” The man before him hums.

“I assume you are quite skilled with a sword then, have you practiced fencing before?”

“Of course, it is taught as the basics of sword fighting. Though, I would not say I am a master.” Humbly, your husband lowers his head to inspect his blade, shaking his head at Jackson’s outcry.

“Nonsense! Any man who has done battle for his life is surely a master. Though, I do ask that you do not hold back on me here; I certainly will not do the same for you.” A wolfish grin creeps up onto both Kings faces, mirroring each other as they pull down the hoods of their face guards.

“You’ve said nothing of your own skill thus far, I will not make the mistake of underestimating you.” The match starts swiftly after they take position, Jackson lunging forward and barely missing Jimin’s side as he dodges out of the way.

Your mouth falls open as they move, each motion calculated and precise. You know nothing about fencing, but it is clear that they are both highly skilled. You’ve never seen your lover move this way before, so dynamic and captivating as though he were performing a dance. Powerful and graceful in every step taken toward his opponent, wielding his blade as though it were an extension of himself. He is beautiful to watch, your heartbeat speeding up in your chest as you are enraptured by the display. Both King’s are even in size and capability, but you can see the ease of movement Jimin possesses compared to Jackson’s deliberate strokes, almost as if he were teasing him. Lena cheers from beside you, but you can’t make a sound. Seeing him like this— completely in his element and moving so gracefully— has your body heating for another reason unrelated to the unrelenting sun. You’ve married an amazing man.

“You’re quick.”

“That is a great compliment, coming from you,” Jackson grunts, keeping Jimin on the defensive with his bold attacks. “But I can tell you are merely playing with me.”

“Not playing.” Waiting. One thing Jimin is an expert at is waiting. Patience is his strength, in fighting and in his daily life. He was patient when it came to you, taking his time with each step of your relationship until he was entirely sure that you were ready, that you wanted him. He was patient with each of his military promotions, climbing up the ranks with hard work and diligence until he was recognized. And he will continue to be patient with the next stage of his life, trying his best not to lose hope that you will become pregnant one day, so he will deal with the disappointment and trials with you for as long as it takes.

As soon as Jackson falters he takes his shot, attacking with swift consecutive swings until his opponent is pushed far back on his side of the space and leaves an opening, one decisive lunge ending the match. They both pant as Jimin’s sword makes contact with the center of the other King’s chest, the cap pressed into the padding protecting his flesh. There’s silence for a beat before they both drop their guard, retuning to the start position. Jimin turns his head to make sure you were watching, lifting his mask to wink at you and smirking salaciously when you blush.  

“Well done.” Jackson nods. “But I won’t let you get the better of me next time!”

“Your husband is a bit intense, no?” You ask Lena as she giggles, humming in agreement.

“And it seems your husband is a bit competitive.” You also nod, the heat drying your mouth as you watch her sip her drink again. She calls over her servant when she catches your stare and they hand you a glass— Kyungsoo swooping in annoyingly to try it first before you can taste the sweet liquid. “He seems very fit and possesses a beautiful physique, I’m astounded that you have the willpower to leave bed with a man like that, especially as newlyweds.”

You choke on your drink mid-swallow, nearly spitting it out because of her words. Jackson has a notoriously dirty mind, it is no surprise to you that his wife shares that quality— she’d have to, in order to tolerate him. She laughs as Lilian takes the drink from you as you wipe your mouth, turning the comment back on her.

“I could say the same to you, Jackson is just as built.”

“Oh, trust that he kept me in bed for months after our wedding date. It is no coincidence that I have this many children now.” Her eyes shift back to the men on the field, seemingly satisfied with the rosiness of your cheeks. Recovering, you address her once more.

“Speaking of, may I meet them?”

“I’ve known (Y/n) for most of my life,” Jackson speaks up during their final round. “Though I submitted a proposal, she’s grown to be like a sister to me over the years.”

“Is that so?” Jimin grunts, their swords clashing loudly.

“I was skeptical of what kind of man she had chosen when word spread of your betrothal. Wondered if you would be able to protect her as she tends to venture out and do things on her own; sometimes-” He jumps back as Jimin closes in. “-befriending the wrong people. I worried when I heard of the catastrophe at your wedding ceremony.” The cap of Jimin’s sword touches to his opponent’s chest once again, ending the sparring match. They both remove their helmets and masks, breathing heavily as they look at each other. “I truly empathize with what you were forced to experience. I could not imagine being in that situation with my wife.” Both men turn to look at you and Lena, their 4 children surrounding you as you hold the youngest in your lap. It is a sight that simultaneously melts and breaks your husband’s heart. “Nonetheless, after meeting you, I am confident that she is in good hands. I like you a lot, Jimin, and though my approval may mean nothing, I think you are an excellent match for her.”

You look up to see them shaking hands, both of them walking over to you with content looks on their faces. The child in your lap looks up as his father approaches, making grabby hands at your friend until he reaches down and lifts him from you. You watch with starry eyes as Jackson props the child up on his hip, kissing over his chubby cheeks and forehead, but then your attention is pulled away when Jimin stops to stand in front of you.

“Did you win?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, My Queen,” He bows dutifully, running a hand through his sweaty hair. It should be offensive how sexy he looks right now, standing in the sun with his wet hair, skin shining with hard work and eyes landing lazily on your figure with a lazy smirk. Your heart jumps and you have to look away before your mind slips even further away. “Do I get a victory kiss?” He bends down toward you, puckering his lips, and you push lightly at his chest with a laugh.

“But you’re all sweaty!” Your nose wrinkles at him but your eyes still lock onto his lips, even as you continue to swat at him.

“No kiss for your King?” Jackson quips, turning to his own wife who is already shaking her head in disgust. “Lena~ Don’t I get a reassurance kiss after my defeat?” The same look Jimin has on his face is contagious to the other King, who grins at Lena as she shields her face with another one of their giggling children, peeking out from over her shoulder. Both men approach with puckered lips, causing their Queens to squeal at their playfulness— you even hop up from the bench to avoid him, taunting him as Jimin chases you around the field. It’s rather immature, but you feel no need to pretend here or uphold appearances in front of your hosts. Lilian and Kyungsoo look on fondly, never having seen you so carefree.

“You never minded my sweat before, my love.” Jimin whispers to you when you finally allow him to give you a peck on the lips, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. You don’t respond, rolling your eyes at him with a barely hidden smile.

“You seem to be getting along nicely with Jackson.” You comment as you rummage through your luggage, searching for one specific item. Jimin replies from behind the partition of the bathroom, bathing away the grime of the day in preparation for the night. You had both sent Lilian away when she offered to help and she took off to explore the nighttime activities of the kingdom, one of Jackson’s male servants offering to be her guide. You’ll be sure to ask her for details in the morning.

“Yes, he is quite an interesting character. He gave me his official approval to marry you, which I suppose I am grateful for.” Hearing the smile in his voice, you giggle, silencing the gasp that leaves your chest when you pull out the delicate lace garments, your heart rate speeding up. You aren’t sure why you feel so anxious about this. It’s not like you to get nervous about being intimate with Jimin, but you’ve never done anything like this before. Maybe it’s because it’s been a while since you last had him, the recent abstinence keeping your body on edge. Or maybe you are worried about what he will say when he sees you. Embarrassment colors your face as you quickly slip on the set, covering yourself with a robe when you are finished.

“He gave you his blessing to marry me?” You chuckle.

Stepping onto the tile of the partitioned washroom, you stand before the full length mirror to inspect yourself before tying it closed. The robe covers you from Jimin’s viewpoint behind you as he finishes washing up, and you try to appear productive as you move to moisturize yourself. When he is finished, your husband approaches from behind, a towel hung low on his waist as he comes to wrap his arms around your midsection. You can feel his sturdy body pressing into you as he pulls you closer, his eyes staring into yours through the glass when he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“His ego hasn’t shrunk an inch since I last saw him.” You sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two of you sway gently together.

“Well, he is a King.” Jimin reasons in a whisper.

“But so are you.” His arms loosen around you when he feels you start to turn, both of your eyes open now as you peer up at him with glittering eyes, gingerly locking your fingers behind his neck. Your heart kicks up as you watch the easy grin on his lips, the absolute and unwavering adoration he holds for you so evident in his gaze. It reminds you of earlier times, his expression the exact same as when he first confessed that he was in love with you and you reciprocated, kissing him so certainly. Now, you kiss him with practiced ease and press ever closer into his warm body. Jimin’s tongue dances with yours, both of you getting lost in the moment until you are forced to pull away for air. “You were amazing today, General Park.”

The use of his former title makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It isn’t like he doesn’t like the name, it is simply that he never expected to hear it come from you again.

“I did not realize that you were so agile and powerful, I was very impressed with what I saw.” One of your fingers trails down his chest, playing in the dip of his v-line before coyly tracing back upwards with each slow word you speak. “That is not to say that I was unaware of your capabilities, you have found great success in protecting me and my kingdom, but watching you was eye opening... and quite arousing.” His breath hitches in a way that gives you more confidence, courage swelling in your chest that helps you ignore the redness of your cheeks.

“Is that so?” Jimin swallows, curiosity lighting his gaze.

You hum in affirmation. “You must work extremely hard to become that skilled, so I thought it appropriate to give you a gift to show my appreciation for all that you do.” Taking a step back, you play with the ribbon of your robe, amused by the sudden change in Jimin’s expression. He watches you like a predator stalking it’s pray, detailing every movement of your nimble fingers with a heaving chest as you move at a snail’s pace to untie your robe. You decide to tease further once the ribbon is finally untied, only revealing the tops of your shoulders from the silk, holding yourself in modesty until it looks like he’s going to go insane before you open the from to reveal yourself.

Jimin feels like he could faint from what he sees when the robe drops. You are decorated in a lacy white lingerie set that is quite transparent, your nipples visible through the designs of the fabric. The bra of the set extends downwards under your cleavage and he feels his hands lifting to rest on your ribs to touch the material, following it delicately until he cups your breasts with his palms. Maybe it is due to the design of this expensive undergarment, but you fill out the bra much more than either of you would have expected, your breasts round and pushing at it in all the right spots. This is the lingerie set that Jin had hidden behind your commissioned painting as part of your wedding gift, and Jimin had completely forgotten that it was in your possession. He chooses not to question how Seokjin knows your body measurements in order to purchase the present. Eyes trailing down, Jimin takes in the equally scandalous panties that adorn your hips, all parts solid white except for the crotch that remains lacy and see-through giving him a view that makes his mouth water.

You look absolutely stunning, and he tells you in as many words as possible.

“Your gift is not yet complete, General.” The look on his face is everything that you had hoped for, and you wish to shock him even further with your next move. Hooking your fingers into the towel at his waist, you unravel it and expose his growing length, sinking down in front of him.

Quickly, he grabs your arm once he realizes what you are doing, preventing you from going lower. You pout up at him. “My Queen, a woman of your status should never kneel on the ground for any man. You must remain dignified.”

“My dignity,” You half scoff at the notion, rising to look him in his beautiful brown eyes. “I have neither dignity nor pride. You have it all, my love; I have given myself to you completely.” You allow yourself to break from your role play just this once, he needs to know that your words are true. If there is anything he should know by now, it is that you hold no reservations toward him. With him, you are equal and you trust him completely. It is not like you have never serviced him before, but he has never seen you on your knees below him due to his own beliefs and you would like to change that tonight. “I want to do this for you.”

This time when you lower yourself, he allows you to drop until your knees rest on the ground. The view he has is undeniably sinful. You can tell how much he enjoys it by how rapidly he hardens in front of your face. But when you look up from your own spot on the floor, you find that your view is equally as jaw dropping. Jimin looks down at you from over his nose, the damp hair on his head sticking to his forehead and dangling over his eyes, shadowing his features into sharp lines. Every inch of his body is chiseled to perfection, displaying the hours of training he has undergone over the years to get to the level of skill you witnessed today, and if it were not for you already kneeling on the marble, your knees would have buckled right from under you. He is like a statue carved by the gods. And he is all yours.

“If a Queen wants her soldiers to keep performing for her she must reward them, and you are the very best, so I will be sure to give you special treatment.” Lightly grasping his member, you take the time to feel how he grows in your grip. Just the feeling of you running your fingers over his plush balls has him almost fully erect, the muscles of his abdominals tensing as you lean forward to slide him into your mouth, caressing the underside of his cock with your tongue without closing your lips just yet. You’ll work him up slowly, you decide, wanting him to savor this rare occasion in hopes that he will allow you to do it again sometime. Your palm smears your saliva around his shaft and starts to steadily pump him up and down, the simple action causing a groan to tear from your lover’s throat.

Jimin does not know where to look in this moment. Should he focus on your hands as the diligently work to pleasure him? Your tongue when it peeks out from your lips to tease at his slit? The dip of your cleavage that lie in his direct line of sight, framed so perfectly by the underwear you don? Or perhaps those smoldering eyes you stare up at him with, those plotting, gorgeous eyes that call to his deepest desires? You look as if you would do anything for him at this moment— you have intentionally put yourself at his feet to show how vulnerable you are willing to be with him, that you trust him to the utmost degree and you would sink this low, literally, to demonstrate that.

“Shit,” Jimin curses, eyes trained on the way your lips wrap around his reddening tip. You sense his hands fidgeting at his sides, so you take them to place on top of your head, nodding encouragingly until he weaves his fingers into your hair. He throbs in your mouth and you fight back a smirk.

Working meticulously, you take the time to circle your tongue around every sensitive place at his cockhead, licking slowly over his frenulum and flicking over his slit as it starts to leak. The flavor is slightly salty and entirely him, and it makes your legs press together from where your knees dig into the polished marble. Your lips and tongue play at his upper half for a while, one of your hands rubbing whimsical patterns along his tensing thigh while the other tends to his aching base, pumping in time with your mouth with a slight twist to your wrist that has his fingers tightening against your scalp.

“Are you enjoying your gift?” You break away to speak, twirling your tongue around the line of saliva that connects you to his tip in the most lewd way possible.

“Yes,” Jimin pants, clearing his throat when his voice comes out raspy. But the sound makes you drip into your designer panties, the flimsy material doing little against your increasing wetness. “How did you become so skilled at this, My Queen? You are such an angel but possess devilish talent with that pretty mouth of yours.”

“I had an excellent teacher.” You wink up at him, hoping he was imaging all the times he guided you when you wished to taste him, becoming more confident as time passed and you no longer feared your gag reflex. You figure now is a good time to demonstrate just how well you absorbed those lessons, you finally sink further down on him until he touches the back of your mouth, collecting your spit to slick him before pushing him deeper and into your throat. Your stomach quivers as you hold back the urge to gag, but he sees none of that because when you look up his head is tossed back in ecstasy and concentration. He must focus so he doesn’t cum so soon.

“Just like that.” Biting into the plush of his bottom lip, Jimin falls into the trance of your movements, bobbing up and down on him with his tip lodged in your throat. The first moan he lets out has a shiver crawling up your spine, deep and loud so it echoes against every surface of the room. Drool slides out of your mouth as you continue to suck him but you pay no mind to it, only focused on the way your lover’s body reacts to you. His chest heaves for breath and you can see perspiration beginning to coat his chest and neck, Adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. The hand that was previously occupied with the rest of his length moves to his balls, kneading and massaging the sack gently as more moans pour from his mouth. Your clit throbs the longer you suck on him, his cock now at full length and hardness and feeling so thick and heavy on your jaw that you can’t help but fantasize about feeling it inside you again.

His hips eventually begin to twitch and rock into each of your movements, but you can tell he is restraining himself from bucking into you fully. When his eyes connect with yours again, you nod as best you can, pulling off slightly to take a few deep breaths and kiss along his silky skin. Once you have your breathing back to normal, you poise yourself with your mouth open wide and tongue poking out, the sight of you inviting him into your warmth while dressed so scantly and looking up at him with such confidence making it incredibly difficult for him to keep his composure. Here you are, his Queen, the ruler of an entire kingdom by birth right who possesses such elegance and high esteem, sitting below him and offering your throat for his pleasure. This is something that no one else in the entire world will ever see and he feels something similar to pride swelling in his chest at that fact. He knows what you are silently asking him to do, so he does not keep you waiting a second longer before inserting himself back into your mouth and easing his way in until your nose is nestled in the trimmed hair above his pubic bone.

Curses leave him in a continuous string as he takes time to adjust to the sensation, a lightness filling your head that makes you feel like you are floating through the clouds. And that feeling only increases when he starts to move, pulling his hips back for you to take in air through your nose before thrusting in again. Jimin fucks your mouth slowly at first, warming you up to it before he starts to get a bit rougher and visibly more eager, his lips sucked into his mouth as he glares down at you. In any other context, you would think him angry if he ever peered at anyone this intensely, but now you only feel the pool of arousal that builds in your core and gushes out of you at the intimidating glower. Still, his muscles are rigid with hesitance.

“May I go faster?” He breathes, never pulling out to free your mouth to respond. You moan out an answer as best you can, running your tongue against him in approval until he finally releases his tension and follows the urges of his body. He doesn’t aim deep into you, but his pace is quick, surely bruising your esophagus, yet you cannot bring yourself to be bothered. The sensation is indescribable, his hands cupping the back of your head and the sheer heat of his body almost overrides the lack of oxygen in your lungs— and simply imagining the pleasure he is feeling because of you has electricity shooting down to your core. Jimin has his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into your mouth, but they quickly shift when your hands find their way to your chest to pull down the bra just enough so your nipples poke out, both hands pushing your breasts together to give him a sight that almost causes him to lose his load right then and there. His hips lose control, stuttering and twitching as his eyes widen comically at the dream-like image of you, and he is forced to pull away after little over a minute of fucking your face. “Fuck-!”

“Is something the matter?” You ask innocently, knees screaming out from your sustained position. The veins in your husband’s hand bulge as he grips himself so tightly his knuckles turn white, his length jumping every time he opens his eyes to look at you. His use of hard profanity is enough to tell you how much you have unraveled him and you revel in the accomplishment.

“Get up here.” He pants, taking your arm in his free hand and helping you to your feet. You hear him click his tongue at the redness of your knees, but don’t have much time to dismiss it before his lips are on yours. Jimin kisses you deeply as if your face is not sloppy with saliva and his precum. He kisses you like it could save lives. And above every filthy thing you have done with him, this kiss is what makes you feel a bashful heat color your cheeks when he pulls you closer.

“Am I to assume I performed well?” You mumble against his lips, eyes crossing slightly to see his smile.

“You were outstanding. So much so that I nearly came down your pretty throat.” Smugly, Jimin unclips your bra, parting from your lips after several minutes of kissing to trace his tongue down your neck until he reaches your chest, forgoing all teasing to wrap his lips around a pert nipple.

“Oh-“ A surprised yelp leaves you and he has to use his strength to keep you from falling over, your legs suddenly feeling like jelly. Your fingers card through his drying hair, tugging at the unbothered man as he has his fun marking and sucking at you. As always, his mouth works miracles, but you have never felt anything like this before. Each swipe of his tongue around your nub has you moaning out his name, when he twists at the other nipple your head falls back in absolute bliss. He’s not doing anything extraordinarily notable, but it is like your body has reached a sensitivity that is completely new to you both. Jimin certainly is enjoying it immensely. His eyes are closed but you can see how they crinkle gleefully at the sides, his cheekbones high almost as if trying to conceal his amusement at your reactions. With puckered lips, he suctions one of your nipples before pulling back to speak.

“I can’t wait,” He grazes his teeth over your other tit before continuing. “-until these fill up with milk for our baby. I’m sure you will look incredible carrying our child inside you— even more amazing than you already look, my love. So round and plump... your cute little womb filled to the brim with my cum and baby.” Your eyes roll when one of his hands slips down your panties to tease at your lips. A growl resonates in his chest at the feel of your wetness. “You like the sound of that, don’t you? What would the people say if they found out that their elegant Queen got soaking wet just from sucking cock and thinking of getting her pussy stuffed full of cum? Hmm? Surely they will know how filthy you are once they see you swollen with my child, walking around the kingdom so shamelessly after getting marked by my seed. They’ll know just how good you’ve been for me, darling.”

“I want them to know I’m yours; I want to be pregnant with your baby so badly!” You sob, hips bucking into his hand as soon as he makes contact with your clit.

He soothes you with soft kisses along your face, ending with a lick to the corner of your mouth as you pant out loud moans for him. “I know, love. The time will come soon enough.”

Once again his lips return to your chest, and the combination of his mouth and fingers has your walls fluttering and clenching around nothing. Even after he removes his hand from your panties to hold you closer to him, you feel the building of an orgasm. Your body is completely taken by his tongue and teeth as they suckle cherry blossoms into your skin. And when his wet fingers travel up to twist at your unattended nipple, you feel your body careening off the edge unexpectedly.

“J-Jimin, I-“ Your sentence is cut short by a long whimper, mind going blank at the pleasure. You are able to feel how your walls snap open and closed, each pulse growing more intense as the high drags on for what seems like an eternity to you. Jimin groans at the sounds you make and he looks on in awe from where he still laves at your breast as you bite down on your lower lip to ground yourself. He doesn’t mind the way you tug at his roots in your bliss. The pain only adds to the throbbing of his cock.

“So sexy,” He murmurs as you regain your senses. You seem embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes, and he questions it.

“I have never-“ Averting your eyes to the ground, you look for words in your scrambled mind.

“You’ve never cum like that before?” For some reason you find it slightly humiliating and you have no idea why. Were you really that sensitive from not having sex with him for a few weeks? Your nipples were never that receptive before. Nodding in agreement, you hide your face until Jimin lifts your chin with his finger. “Do not shy away from me, My Queen. You look gorgeous when you cum.” Before you can process it, his hands are yanking down your ruined panties, drenched all the way through and dripping. Your back connects with the wall next to the mirror as you are pinned against the surface with his weight. His fingers slide over your clit and you jolt, attempting to close your legs, but he is faster and jams his thigh between yours to hold you open. “In fact, you look so good that I want to see you do it again.”

Without warning, he plunges 2 fingers knuckle deep into you, searching with little trouble for that spongey area inside you. You are wet enough to lubricate his fingers until he drips down his hand, the slick part of his palm beginning to rub harshly against your clit when his fingers curl upwards.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp brokenly when he reaches your spot. Feeling you clench, Jimin hums and goes to work massaging the area with the pads of his fingers, pressing his other hand to your lower stomach to increase the pressure. Since the first time you squirted he has been almost obsessed with the sight, working diligently to figure out how to make you do it again. There have been many nights dedicated solely to that cause— nights that you endured with bright red cheeks each time he made fun of your fucked out expression and hoarse voice— it is to the point where he now knows your every weakness and can manipulate your body with mastery. He knows exactly how much pressure you like when his fingers are deep inside you. He knows just the right way to massage that sensitive area to get you to fall apart again even if you feel overstimulated. He knows how to move his entire arm to hit that spot each time without fail, his technique flawless as he moves rapidly inside your clenching heat. Almost like a balloon filling with water, you feel another high building up in your core frighteningly fast and the lewd squelch coming from between your legs soon becomes the loudest noise in the room.

“Let go for me,” Jimin encourages into your skin, burying his face in the crook of your neck and panting hot breaths. It is easy to tell how easily he gets himself worked up when pleasuring you. His hard, wet cock twitches incessantly against your thigh, teasingly close to where you want him, and the feeling alone has you galloping closer to your second release. “You look so beautiful like this, pushed against a wall and taking my fingers. I bet you are just starving for my cock, aren’t you, My Queen? I’ll give it to you right after you cum for me. I want you to show me how badly you want it by soaking my arm with your sweet juices.”

The filthy words he feeds you only add to the hunger you feel for him. One of your legs lifts to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as the balloon in your core continues to grow. Your heart is in your ears, beating rapidly, and you have no other choice but to listen to him and release your pleasure. With one synchronized prod of his fingers and circle around your clit, you descend into depraved ecstasy and let the balloon pop. You black out slightly, ears ringing and body numb to the world except for everywhere that your husband touches you, but you are aware of the satisfied moan he gives at your obedience. Whispers of delicate praises tickle your chest as he rests his forehead on your collarbone to watch you soil the floors and his lower half with your clear cum. The sound of it splashing and splattering against each nearby surface is quite embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to think of it when your legs are shaking this hard and your body is tingling with joy.

“Good girl,” You hear Jimin groan, pulling his fingers from you to wrap his arms around your waist so you don’t topple over on your wobbly leg. He figures it may just be easier to keep you up if both of your legs are off the wet floor, so he moves your other leg to wind around his waist before carrying you out of the room and away from the mess to the bed.

Your glazed eyes take him in as he stands above you, a hand running through his disheveled hair as he studies you as well. His face is flushed and sweaty and his chest rises and falls quickly, but you’re sure that is only partly due to the effort he has just put in. There are claw marks on his shoulders and you gasp. You hadn’t realized you were gripping him so tightly, but he doesn’t seem to mind the marks at all, focused entirely on the throbbing member between his legs. Your eyes drop down his toned body to where his hand leisurely strokes up and down his shaft, purposely avoiding the tip to keep himself on the edge. It is almost purple with built up pressure, likely painful by this point, and you will yourself to move your weak limbs to reach out for him, pulling him closer to invite him between your open legs.

He takes his place at your center, one hand pressing into the soft mattress beside your head as he leans over you. You want him to kiss you so badly, but you want him inside you even more. He acquiescences this by sliding into you smoothly before swooping down for your lips.

“Mm~ Jimin!” The thick girth of his shaft stretches you perfectly, ignorant of your ticklish sensitivity as it searches for the deepest spot within you. In no time at all Jimin’s hips are flush with your ass, lips and tongue swallowing your moans into his own mouth.

“(Y/n)-“ He moans in response. Eyes squeezed tight, he forces himself to remain still. “I lose my breath every time I take this dripping pussy of yours. I’ll never get used to it.” Flattered, you hide your face with his by pulling him in for another kiss. The two of you stay like this for a long while, adjusting to each other’s bodies and basking in the intimacy of the moment.

“My love, please move.” You whine when the stillness becomes unbearable, yet you grieve at the loss of his heat when he leans away to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

The first thrust of his hips already has you squirming. Your slick makes it so easy for him to pump into you that he barely has to put in any effort at all, his hips snapping sharply into you from the beginning. You let your legs fall farther apart at his sides and bite your lip when Jimin’s eyes land between your thighs, staring intently at the place where your bodies connect. You’re sure he can see everything, from the way your lips spread open around his wide member, to the shiny streaks of your arousal that quickly slick the inside of your thighs. It’s like you can feel his gaze caressing you, your body feeling sensitive everywhere he studies. You moan unabashedly at the sensation.

“Do you like it, My Queen? Does this feel good?” He prompts, eager for your praise.

“Y-yes, I-“ It has been so long without his cock inside you that you can’t think clearly. All you can do is shout his name and cling to the bedsheets as he wraps his arms around your thighs and holds them flush against his front. The angle makes you stutter, his tip touching somewhere sensitive that has your thighs squeezing closed. “P-please, harder. Use me.”

“Keep these fucking legs open.” Jimin growls, thrusting more harshly now. You attempt to follow his command and unclench your thighs, but they shake violently as soon as they part and it takes immense focus for you to hold them there. Looking up at your lover, you see the dark look that overtakes his features, dominance radiating off of him as he gets lost in you. You haven’t seen this look on him in a long while, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t sexy. He looks like he wants to eat you alive, devour you whole and leave not a morsel of you left until he’s had his fill.

Watching Jimin gain so much pleasure from you takes you to another level of bliss. His fingers dig into your thighs as he pounds his cock within your depths, determined to pull more desperate sounds from your throat, and his teeth bite down on his plush bottom lip in concentration. Sweat now trickles down his brow from the humid heat of the room, undoing the bath he took prior and replacing the soap with the scent of sex that leaks from his pores. This man is undeniably the hottest person you have ever laid eyes on and you can’t help but clench around him at the visuals he’s giving you.

Feeling you clench, Jimin moans, dragging his eyes up your figure until they land on your breasts. They jolt with every harsh thrust he gives you and dance flirtatiously in front of him— he can’t look away. Suddenly, he leans down and snatches up your hands, pinning them above your head with his fingers intertwined with yours, nearly drooling at how delectable you look under him. Your breasts certainly look different, the shape has become rounder and they jiggle slightly more than he can remember, but Jimin doesn’t think much of this as he focuses on delivering hard strokes. You shiver when his tongue licks a stripe up your damp neck, sucking a spot just below your ear before nibbling the lobe. He knows this is a weak spot for you, and just as he expected, your walls tighten around him once more. You push against him, trying to free your hands, but he has them locked sturdily in his grasp, silently forcing you to submit to him. You probably want to wind your fingers in his hair or grip onto his biceps, but he won’t give up an ounce of power at the moment. Not while he is ravaging you like this. So you settle for squeezing his hands and soaking in their warmth, gasping breathlessly as he takes you. You are entirely at his mercy and you absolutely love it.

One of his hands moves down to grip your thigh and push it open, unlocking you from where you have been clenched around his hips. Both of your wrists now held in one hand and still pinned against the sheets. The bed frame creaks noisily as he changes pace, abandoning his hard and fast thrusts for a slow and deep grind that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Something feels different about you, about the way you feel around him as the head of his cock licks at your cervix. It’s softer than usual and open for him, almost begging for his sperm, and he thinks this is the perfect time to get you pregnant. He aims to stay deep inside you. Each powerful movement is purposeful, everything down to the slight arch of his back that allows his pubic bone to grind into your clit, and you feel like you’re going crazy.

“Oh fuck, Jimin! I’m close again!” Your voice is strained in your throat and he smirks at the sound. He can feel it, the swell of your walls around him as you near your third high, and he swears it’s tighter than usual. Your muscles begin to tense up and push against him, preparing for your inevitable release. And just because you feel like pushing his buttons today, you allow your thighs to attempt to squeeze closed again.

“What did I say?!” The depth of his voice shocks you briefly and your eyes snap open to look at him. His jaw is tight as his stare bores into you with deadly intensity. “Keep your fucking legs open. Or do I have to hold them for you?” You let out a whimper, not daring to move your hands from their raised position when he drops your wrists to push open your other thigh, leaving you dripping and exposed in front of him. Your skin dimples where his fingertips dig into you— though he is careful not to bruise you— and he seems to hit even deeper like this. “You used to be so well behaved, My Queen. Are you acting out just to get a rise out of me?”

You dodge the question. “Please, Jimin, please make me cum again.” You can hardly hear anything aside from the slap of his balls against your ass and the squelch of his cock pushing through your warm walls.

“You think you deserve to cum? What will you do for it?” A dark chuckle leaves his throat when he sees you genuinely thinking of a response, biting so hard on your lip that he fears it might bleed.

“Anything.” You breathe. You’re unsure of how long you can hold back your orgasm, he feels so good fucking you like this, pushing his whole length into you without mercy.

“Anything, darling?” A lecherous grin plasters itself onto his mouth at your expression. “Hm, are you just saying that because you’re desperate? I can tell it feels good, you’re leaking all over me. Do you like it when I go deep like this?” You nod with a whine, eyelids pressed closed to hold back from cumming. “Open your eyes. Look at how deep I am inside you.” Peeling your eyes open, you peer down at yourself upon his command and see where his own eyes are glued. A small bulge presses against your lower abdomen every time he pushes in, disappearing when he pulls out only to reappear with the next thrust. Neither of you can take your eyes off of the sight, absolutely mesmerized by it.

“Please, I’m so close!” You groan loudly.

“You say you’ll do anything, my love?”

“Yes!”

“Will you be a good girl and let me put my baby in you? Let me cum right here against this fertile womb and get you pregnant with my baby?” The effect of his dirty talk is immediate and you clamp down on him, barely holding back as his hand rests over the bulge in your tummy, adding the tiniest amount of pressure to it.

“I will! Please!” Tears wet your doe eyes as you look up at him, digging your nails into the soft sheets above your head to keep from moving your arms from their position. He notes this with a hum, speeding up his hips in reward for your obedience.

“I know you will. Now cum.” On command, your body lets go of all the pent up pressure in your core, gripping onto his length with unbearable strength. Your walls pulsate with so much force that you nearly push him out, and when he finally pulls out of you, you squirt once again over the ledge of the bed. His hands on your legs do nothing to quell the wild tremors that overtake you and the streams of tears that flow over the apples of your cheeks. You are truly a sight to see, flushed red and glowing with the aftermath of yet another ferocious orgasm. Your sensitivity once again shocks him into silence. He didn’t even need to touch your clit for you to climax.

His stiff member bobs like a flagpole in the wind as he takes you in. It’s so hard that it stands straight up against his abdomen, jumping with its own pulse. When you open your eyes it is the first thing you see, and your body heats up again.

“Can you take any more, my love?” Jimin questions with concern, tracing his hands up your waist soothingly.

“Always. I can always take more of you.” Despite the screaming in your limbs, you sit up abruptly and pull him down to the bed, rolling the two of you over as you lock lips. Jimin seems surprised but not opposed to the shift in power dynamics, sensing that you want to take the reins for now. Your fingers wrap around his base and line him up with your slit, showing not even a moment’s hesitation before dropping down and knocking the wind out of both of you.

“You do not have to-“

“No, Jimin, I want to. I am supposed to be treating you after all, let me make you feel good.”

Fuck, you’re hot. Not only do you look amazing on top of him, but your pussy feels much hotter than usual. And it’s so tight, as if it’s greedy for every inch of him and eager to suck out his release. He won���t last long like this, that is for certain. His hands support you as you shift into a squat above him— and maybe it’s the novelty of the position, but he swears it’s never felt this good before.

“I imagined this so many times, but I never thought I’d actually get to see you riding me like this.” He confesses in a strained breath. You press your palms into his chest to lift yourself up, lowering yourself experimentally before repeating the action with less restraint.

“Am I living up to your expectations?” It could just be the angle, but his cock feels unbelievably deep inside you, and you half expect it to hurt yet you feel no pain. There is not even the slightest bit of discomfort as he nudges at your womb and you attribute this to the three incredible orgasms you have already reached tonight.

“God, yes.” He can’t look away from where you impale yourself on him, your shaky legs spread wide to let him see every second of the erotic display. From the way you grip him every time you lift up, to the strings of your arousal and cum that weave a sticky web between your ass and his pelvis, and even to the way your clit swallows in delight, he almost goes lightheaded as he takes it all in. His throat bobs as he gulps, back arching off the sheets under your warm hands.

“Faster?”

You don’t wait for a response before you start speeding up. He’s close, you can feel it in the way he swells against your walls and see it in the way his neck and chest color that pretty pink color you adore so much. Your limbs are aching for relief and it takes all of your remaining energy to keep up your efforts, but you wouldn’t dream of stopping. No, you are determined to bring Jimin to his end no matter what. The high pitched moans he lets out for your ears only are more than enough motivation to keep going, but you are working for a prize much more valuable that the lovely sounds he makes for you. You want his cum. You want it so badly that it is the only thing you can think of, so despite the pain in your fragile legs as you bounce yourself as hard and fast as you can, you continue for him. You’ve never been afraid to put in a little effort, and this is something you are willing to work for.

“(Y/n), I’m gonna cum!” Jimin’s dialect shines through strongly as he grits his teeth through the pleasure you bombard him with. You know it must feel different for him, the pleasure is always so much more intense when you aren’t the one doing all the work, and this is the first time you’ve pinned him down like this. It’s the first time you’ve dropped yourself down to clamp your knees on either side of him and wrap yourself around his upper body as you pant into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses and coaxing him toward his high with whispered words. Now that the roles are reversed, you can see just how wrecked he is for you— the usually composed king now lies spread in a heap of matted hair, sweaty skin, and bitten lips, completely speechless and grasping onto your thighs in a desperate bid to hold onto his sanity. “Please, I- I-“

“Cum for me, My King,” You are sure your body has just about reached its limit, but you feel no pain or fatigue when you look into your lover’s eyes and find an unraveled man. “I promised I would take your cum and let you get me pregnant. Give it all to me, my love, I want it. Cum inside me, Jimin.”

Bucking his hips, Jimin loses all control and throws his head back in anticipation as he aids your movements with his strong arms. When he feels your lips on his chin, he leans forward and allows you to swallow his groans of pleasure, both of you starved for breath but unwilling to pull away from the kiss. Everything you have done for him tonight— wearing sexy lingerie, getting on your knees to please him, squirting not once but twice— culminates into this one moment and he doesn’t think he can take take it. It’s all too much. With three sharp thrusts from both of you, he climaxes with a shout, lifting you up along with him as his hips rise off the bed.

“Oh fuck!” Maybe you shouldn’t feel this way, but you giggle giddily at the state of rapture he’s in because of you. The veins in his neck pop out of his skin as he dumps spurt after spurt of his semen into you, and you think this is the biggest load he’s ever given you. It takes a long time for him to come down from his high and for a moment you wonder if he will be okay with the way he twitches and shivers as your hips roll to a stop.

He doesn’t seem to mind your weight resting on top of him, nor does he react to the light kisses you press to his drenched skin. He does, however, wrap his arms securely around you when you shift to roll off of him, holding you on top of his body until you both have caught your breath and can open your heavy eyelids enough to look at each other with tired smiles.

“I love you.” You grin, running your digits through his disheveled mop of hair.

“I love you more, My Queen.” He pulls you down for another kiss to silence whatever rebuttal you surely have prepared at the tip of your tongue because he knows what you will say. And the thought makes his heart swell.

It seems like hours pass before both of you can work up the strength to part from each other. You have to be carried to the bathroom because your limbs feel far too weak and Jimin is not yet willing to let you go from his embrace. He is mindful of the puddle that you left on the floor as he carries you to the bath, and both of you sink into the depths together to wash away all your sins. You stay like that until your toes are pruned and the water is slightly cooler than lukewarm, the time flying by as you talk freely about everything you can think of: your hopes for your future family, your day with Jackson and Lena, gossip about Lilian and her whereabouts— she has not yet returned to the lodge even at this late hour and you hope that she is safe, but more importantly, you hope that her night with that handsome male servant ends similarly to yours. She could afford to take tonight and tomorrow off to unwind a bit, you feel a tad guilty that her needs may be neglected in the kingdom as she tends to you nonstop in the castle. Sleep finds you both easily and you cannot drop the smile from your cheeks as you cuddle up with the man you love.

This afternoon would have been perfect if not for the way you were feeling. Sparse clouds float through the sunny blue sky, the mountains surrounding you blossoming with vibrancy, but the beautiful scenery is dulled in your bleary eyesight. The lightheadedness you’d felt upon arrival two days ago has returned, along with a pounding headache that dampens your mood.

Jimin and Jackson walk ahead of their queens, talking casually as though they had been friends for years. The sight makes your heart grow warm and you use it to distract you from your discomfort as you walk along the outside pathways to a different section of the enormous castle. Lena notices the shift in your demeanor fairly quickly, commenting that you look less energized than yesterday.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” She implores, her brow creased with worry.

“I had a very restful sleep last night, but it feels like my body is dragging behind.” You try to keep yourself from rubbing at your face. Royals are not supposed to show weakness and vulnerability in public, and even though you are only surrounded by Kyungsoo and a few of Lena’s servants, you wish to uphold your appearances. “I do not feel sick, however, so I do not think it is caused by illness.”

“Would there be any other reason for you to feel fatigued? We did spend quite a considerable amount of time in the heat yesterday.”

“Well,” The guards and servants lag behind you far enough for them not to hear your conversation, but you still lower your voice in modesty. “Jimin and I were intimate late into the evening...” You figure your late night activities are also the reason for the tenderness you feel in your breasts, your tight undergarments causing slight pain as they bind your chest.

“Ah, I see!” She beams back at you, giggling. “You were not used to such strenuous exercise. I have experience with that— one time Jackson kept me in bed for so long that I nearly fainted from dehydration! Jimin seems like he would have a lot of stamina, be careful with that one.” The wiggle of her eyebrows lifts your spirits a bit. Speaking of such lewd subjects is seen as unladylike, especially for royalty, but you find yourself uncaring of that when you are with Lena. You have never had a woman of your same age and status to converse with before, no one could ever relate or felt comfortable enough to speak freely with you. This closeness you have with her is a novel feeling— and it is likely that Jimin feels the same with Jackson.

“I’ll be sure to be mindful of that.” You smile, staring at the back of his head. Your husband turns to look at you when he feels your eyes as he passively listens to the other King recall a story, sending a wink your way before returning his attention to the man beside him.

“Is there any other possible explanation for your symptoms?” Redirecting your gaze to Lena, you catch how her eyes flicker down to your stomach, a small smile on her lips. As soon as you realize her meaning, you stiffen, legs nearly bringing you to a halt.

“No,” Your eyes fall to the ground. “I... do not think it is pregnancy. Before I departed from home I was examined by my doctor and she-“ You sigh. “I am not pregnant.”

“Hmm. Well, I have been pregnant 4 times and have experienced many symptoms with each of my children. What you described to me sounds familiar. Do not dismiss the idea just yet, (Y/n).”

Before you can even open your mouth to form a reply, you are hit with a wave of dizziness that makes the world spin. Kyungsoo is by your side in an instant, stabilizing you as someone asks if you are alright. You are led to a nearby bench where all of the servants crowd around you, Jimin rushing over when he hears the commotion.

“(Y/n)?! What’s the matter?” The world spins a little less when your eyes are closed, so you do not look up at him, but you can imagine the almost sickly worry covering his lovely face. You know he has been especially traumatized by the events of your wedding and you never want to put him in a situation like that again, but you can’t help the way your body feels. Distantly, you hear Jackson order a servant to get the doctor, footsteps skittering away as he comes to squat down in front of you.

“Are you ill?” Jackson’s voice calms the anxiety you weren’t aware you were feeling. It is frightening not knowing what’s going on with your own body. Lena’s words ring in your mind.

“N-no, it is just the altitude. I just need to rest for a minute.” Your excuse is almost convincing, but no one moves— except for Jimin, who moves closer to you on the bench to support your back. After a few minutes, your head begins to clear, though your vision remains blurry. Eyes silently peer at you from all sides and you can feel them hot on your skin, embarrassment now the prominent emotion you feel. “Please do not worry about me, I am fine, really.”

“Are you certain? We can rest here for a little while longer.” Jimin suggests gently, but for some reason this irritates you.

“I said I’m fine.” You snap, earning an even more concerned look from him. Just then, the doctor approaches, slightly out of breath and sweating. “I don’t need a doctor! I’m feeling better already. Look.” You no longer feel dizzy anymore so you attempt to stand, rising quickly from the seat to come face to face with Jackson as he rises as well. Jimin still has his arm around you, both men watching you closely. “See?” But as soon as you’re stable on your feet, the spinning returns as if on cue and you come toppling forward into Jackson’s arms, everything going black.

“You don’t need to do this, Jackson, I told you I feel okay now.” You grumble as he carries you to the infirmary inside the castle. He took you into his arms without hesitation when you fell, offering to carry you because Jimin was rapidly descending into distress. While you were only out for about 2 minutes before you regained consciousness, everyone had reacted as if you were dying.

Looking at your husband now, you can see how unnerved he has become. Because he is a General who has seen many battles, he has trained himself not to react emotionally in stressful situations— but you can read the look in his eyes as clear as day as he walks alongside you, watching you more closely than what is in front of him.

“That is what you said earlier, and then you fainted immediately afterwards. Do not worry, I don’t mind carrying you. I needed a little exercise today anyway.” Always a jokester, you crack a smile at his comment, rolling your eyes as the doctor leads him into a room to rest you on the bed. The doctor works quickly, taking a blood sample from you and leaving for the lab, having already taken your vitals when you initially passed out. “We’ll be waiting outside.” With that, Jackson takes Lena’s shaky hand and exits the room, leaving you in bed and Jimin hovering over you awkwardly.

“Please sit down, you are making me nervous.” You breathe. He blinks and nods absently, perching himself on the edge of the bed next to you. “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.” He laughs dryly. Jimin bites his lip when you give him a sympathetic gaze and take his hand. Your words from the argument you had nearly a month ago echo in his head. This is a chance for him to open up to you about his emotions and seek your comfort, your expression shows that you are expecting it of him, so he takes a deep breath. There’s no use hiding his emotions from you. “Truth be told, I am a wreck. You fainting brought back some rather unpleasant memories.” He confesses.

“I’m sorry.” You really are apologetic, stressing him out is the last thing you ever wanted to do.

“It is not your fault. I just worry about you so much. I cannot bear to lose you, my love, and I feel so helpless when things like this happen, it feels like I always have to wait for others to come to rescue you.”

“Would you like to become a doctor so you are more prepared, then?” He wasn’t expecting that response and snaps his head up to look at you when you laugh. “You cannot control everything that happens to me, Jimin. It is okay to let others help. All I need is for you to stay by my side, your presence is more than enough.” He nods at this, accepting the kiss you plant on his cheek and squeezing your hands.

Long seconds of silence pass as you wait for the doctor to return. Then, a sudden thought pops into your mind that makes you groan aloud.

“Lilian is going to be pissed at me.” You can’t help but chuckle at the circumstances.

“Why is that?”

“I told her to take off today and enjoy her time here, but she was worried about me so she initially refused. I assured her of my health this morning before we left. I can only imagine to look on her face once she finds out what happened.” You do feel a bit bad, Lilian knows you better than anyone and it is clear that she could tell something was off, but you convinced her that her instincts were wrong and now you find yourself in the infirmary. She will surely put herself down over this incident because of her absence when you most needed her.

“You can worry about her after we confirm that you are okay. For now, let us focus on this.” Just then, the doctor enters the room again, coming to stand at the bottom of the bed as you and Jimin look up at them with expectant eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest. You’ve become so used to hearing bad news from doctors, you are almost conditioned to be nervous and guarded around them.

“(Y/n), I have determined the cause of your sudden collapse.” Jimin squeezes your hand tighter and you can feel the sweat on his fingertips. “It appears that you are pregnant! Congratulations! The blood tests showed high levels of-“

“Pardon?” You interject with a raspy voice. Your brain is having a hard time processing the words and you blink slowly for a few seconds, unaware of Jimin’s shell shocked expression. “I- H-how can this be? My physician tested me right before I left and she said I was not pregnant.”

“Well, it is entirely possible to get false negative results, especially when it is early in the pregnancy. I don’t think it reflects poorly on your physician, these things just happen sometimes and are completely out of our control. But looking at my test results and the symptoms you have been experiencing, I am certain that you are about 6 weeks pregnant.”

“B-but I bled last month.”

“For how many days?”

“One or two...”

“Then that was likely implantation bleeding, which is to be expected. Dizziness and even fainting are also fairly common symptoms, so there is no particular need to worry about today’s incident— though I recommend that you make sure to get adequate rest and nutrition to avoid complications in the future. Once again, congratulations.”

Finally, you drag your gaze over to your husband who has been silent since the doctor appeared, and his eyes are filled to the brim with tears when they connect with yours.

“You- (Y/n), you’re finally pregnant!” He whispers, and the way his voice cracks causes the dam to break within yourself and all of your emotions come flooding out. Before you know it you’re wrapped in his embrace, both of you simultaneously sobbing and laughing into each other’s necks from pure joy and surprise as the doctor excuses themselves from the room. It is like all of the building frustration from the past several months has been crushing you slowly and now that weight has been lifted, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time. Jimin feels similarly. He has been holding back so many of his emotions since you first started trying to get pregnant and that has taken a tremendous toll on his mind and body, but for the first time, he can finally release those emotions and let himself feel the heaviness of it all. He is crying harder than you are, soaking the top of your dress as you cradle his head to you and hold him there. His hands ghost over your waist and lower abdomen so delicately, as if protecting the growing life inside of you.

When you’ve both gotten yourselves together enough to allow Jackson and Lena to visit, they rush in without hesitation.

“Is everything okay?” Lena is by your side first, immediately noticing your red and puffy eyes. You’re a little bit hesitant to tell her because you know she’ll gloat about her “sixth sense”.

“Yes, I’m alright. We just found out that I am pregnant.” The room erupts into noise, the two of them sounding like an entire circus as Jackson nearly jumps on Jimin in a bear hug and Lena squeals excitedly beside you.

“I knew it! You dismissed me so offhandedly and it turns out that I was right! I have a sixth sense for these things, you know; you should trust me more often.” Just as expected.

“And here you were, just telling me how worried you were about not yet yielding an heir to the throne,” Jackson throws a heavy arm over Jimin’s shoulder. “I suppose we should celebrate before you depart in the morning. I will throw a lovely ball tonight in your honor!”

“Oh, I must oversee the preparations then! Get some rest, (Y/n), and congratulations again!” And just like that, the couple is gone, rushing back out of the room and leaving you and your husband giggling.

“I am sorry, Lilian.” You apologize for what feels like the thousandth time. She continues to pout as she helps load your belongings into the carriage, barely sparing you a glance.

“I knew I should have stayed; I had a feeling something would happen.” She turns to scowl, not necessarily at you but it is in your direction. “I cannot believe I missed such a huge announcement as well! Both Jackson and Lena found out before me, this is so unfair.”

“You sound like a child,” You snicker, taking Kyungsoo’s hand as he helps you into the carriage behind Jimin.

“Yes, well I think I am allowed to throw a tantrum just this once.” You catch Kyungsoo crack a grin at her, the first time you’ve seen any emotion from him, and it brings a smile to your own face.

“If it makes you feel any better, Kyungsoo found out after Jackson and Lena, too.” Jimin comments, taking your hand and pulling you into his side.

“It does not make me feel better because he still found out before me!”

The sun is still low in the sky but slowly rises as you depart from the kingdom. Once you return to the castle, there are many duties that you must take care of, and many traditional processes you will have to go through now that you are pregnant— you are carrying a possible future heir to the throne after all. But you have never been happier. For now it still feels surreal, even though you have waited nearly a year for this moment, but as soon as the people of your kingdom come to greet you and celebrate the news of your conception, the reality of the situation will hit and you are sure you will be overwhelmed with new challenges. Pregnancy is not an easy thing, but at least you will have Jimin with you to help you through it all, just as he has always done. You rest your head on his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

“So Lilian, how was your date the other night? You seemed rather cozy with that young man at the ball yesterday evening.”

“It was not a date!”

[bowandcurtsey]

Strong angst to fluff with BC boys. She dresses up for them thinking they’d like it (for the date) but it’s a bit revealing. N they call her a slut :(, when she cries they say she’s being dramatic and during the date she’s mopey and quiet. And finally they argue a bit and the boys say their jus jealous and overprotective. Ik it sounds like I’m saying their all in one relationship but I mean separately like how you do the others. Hope it’s not to much to ask for thank u ☺️

Hi Anony!! I hope you did read my previous request for Angst to Fluff for Rill, William and Fue! It’s here ! Both your requests were in my inbox after I came back from my holiday so I decided to divide it into 3 captains each, thinking about which captain fit which scenario most!

I hope that’s ok!! If you’d like a specific character for a specific scenario, do lemme know! Also, I think it’s hard to do strong angst in short scenario fics 🥲 if it’s not angsty enough to your liking, do request again for solo character! 🥰 I can do longer fics for solo characters

Yami | Nozel | Jack

Yami Sukehiro

The black bulls captain was a little late to your date and you were already waiting in the bar.

When he came in, he saw that men were oogling at your revealing outfit, even the bartender that you were sitting right in front of, was trying to hit on you.

“What the fuck are you wearing babe?” He snarled.

“Something nice for our date?” His use of vulgarity caught you off guard. “Why ar-”

“Do you have to dress like a slut?” He blurted out, “do you like that men are looking at you?”

You were so upset that tears were threatening to spill at the corner of your eyes, “You’re late and the first thing you do is criticise my outfit?”

“It’s two different matters, don’t start a drama here.” He said flatly.

You felt your heart wince at his nonchalant attitude. “Fine then let’s just end the date then”

You walked out of the bar, the tears that you were holding back finally falling from your face.

Yami took a deep drag from his cigg and went after you. He caught you just outside the bar and caged you in his strong arms.

You knew it was futile to struggle with you man so you just stood there crying.

“I’m sorry baby.” He said in his low gentle voice, one that he only used with you, “I shouldn’t have used the word ‘slut’. I was pissed just now”

“You’re the one that’s late!” You said between sobs, “what are you pissed about? I took so long to dress up for you!” You wailed even harder now.

“My bad princess. I’m sorry. I got jealous when I came in seeing all those pigs looking at you. And that filty bartender, I might dig his eyes out later. Tsk.” His grip on you tightened thinking about what he witnessed just now.

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head when you didn’t reply. “Let’s go somewhere else alright?” He took off his robe and draped it over you. “I’ll admire this outfit when we get home~”

Nozel Silva

Nozel picked you up for your date and brought you to a nice restaurant. Upon reaching, you took off your coat and revealed a sexy dress. The silver eagles captain was flabbergasted, and a hint of blush tinted his cheeks. You looked amazing.

However, throughout the night, many men were looking at you. Even the waiters were coming over to your table a tad bit too frequently. Nozel’s mood plummeted and traces of irritation now took over his features.

“What’s wrong dear?” You asked, seeing his furrowed eyebrows and how he got quiet all of a sudden.

“You’re dressed quite like a slut today.” He commented, not even looking up at you.

You were dumbfounded at his words, not knowing how to respond.

You both continued eating in silence, but his words kept replaying in your mind. Tears silently rolled down your cheeks and you started sniffing.

“Don’t be dramatic y/n,” the silver haired man said flatly.

“I took a long time to dress up and make up just for you today,” it was your turn to snap at him, “it’s okay if you don’t appreciate it. I’m done with my dinner.”

You sat in silence throughout the rest of the dinner. When you were both outside the restaurant, Nozel summoned his mercury eagle and gave you his hand to help you get up.

“It’s okay. I can head home myself.” You turned and left.

He caught up with you easily. “I’m... sorry.”

But you didn’t respond nor look at him.

“I was jealous when all the men were looking at you” he blurted out quietly. It wasn’t common that Mr Royal Nozel would admit he was jealous, so you just looked at him in surprise.

He tried coughing his blush away from his cheeks, “guess I felt a little overprotective, I do apologise for my harsh words dear”

He held your hands gently and faced you, “you do look beautiful tonight, but I don’t want other men to look at what’s mine.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s go home Mr Jealous.”

Jack the Ripper

There was a party at the royal palace. You and Jack attended together as a couple.

Jack was usually okay with whatever you were wearing, but today many men were taking glances at you.

At one point he heard someone gossiping, “wow look at the lady over there? She’s with Captain Jack? She’s hot, look at her booty.”

Jack almost sliced them in half. He looked at you. You seemed oblivious to all the ogling.

“Why are you dressed like a slut today?” His words sliced through you like his blades, you felt your heart in half.

Tears clouded your eyes, “do you have any idea how much effort i put into this outfit today?”

“Don’t be a drama queen babe~” this man really couldn’t read the situation.

“You’re the rude king Jack.” You said flatly and walked off.

After awhile, he found you outside.

“Hey,” he scratched his head, thinking of what to say, “I’m sorry babe”

“Ok.” You took a sip of champagne, not even looking at him

He bent over to look at your face. “I’m sorry babe, you look beautiful tonight. And those men kept looking at you.”

“So?” You side eyed him.

“I was being a rude fuck and I was jealous and over protective” he gave you his puppy eyes.

You playfully smacked him, “you’re the drama king babe” you rolled your eyes and smiled.

“We make a great pair, my queen” he pressed a chaste kiss to your temples.

-end-

I really couldn’t imagine any of them calling their s/o a slut 🥺 but I hope you guys liked this one! I love fluff, makes my heart go UwU all the time 💓

[eliemo]

Something Long and Stupid (Part 2)

Summary: Remus knew he wasn't a good person. He was Deadpool, a killer for hire, "the merc with a mouth." He'd come to terms with what he was a long time ago. He didn't need Spiderman to remind him of what he was.

He didn't need Virgil to come into his life and make him question it for the first time

Notes: Violence, blood, gore, sexual inneundos

I didn't make a taglist for this story but I know @teamplutoforlife wanted to be tagged <3 And thank you @cheshirevalentine for editing

Part 1

Remus was falling, twisting onto his back as he plummeted towards the ground, the buildings around him nothing but a blur as he flew past. He could faintly hear the construction on the ground over the pounding of his own heart and the howling of the wind rushing past him, barely hearing the alarmed shouts of the workers watching him fall.

Virgil was nothing but a speck in the distance now, perched on the edge of the roof. Lifeless white eyes watched him fall, unfeeling and still.

Pain exploded in Remus’s back as he slammed into something sharp, legs hitting the ground when he finally stopped falling. He could just barely make out the rusty, blood stained spike in front of him, poking through his chest from his back where he'd fallen, blood pooling around the wound and into his suit.

-

“Hey.”

Remus jumped so hard he nearly fell off the roof, scrambling to his feet and reaching for his gun as he whirled around to face whoever the fuck was stupid enough to sneak up on him.

Spiderman was perched beside him, apparently fine after his near death experience last night, and holding… a pizza box?

“Hey,” Remus said carefully. “What the fuck?”

Spiderman shrugged and held out the box in his hand. “I have pizza. You asked for pizza.”

Remus stared for a moment, frozen where he stood with his hand hovering over his gun, trying to figure out if this was a joke. “You… actually brought it?”

“Yeah?” Spiderman said, like he didn’t understand how this was in any way strange. “Oh did you… were you joking? Did you not actually want it, or—”

“No, I did.” Remus stayed right where he was. What the hell was this? Was this a prank? Was he being pranked?

“Then… here,” Spiderman said. He held out the pizza box, close enough for Remus to cautiously take. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just got cheese. But cheese is good. Everyone likes cheese.”

Holy shit. Spiderman was a dweeb.

Remus carefully opened the pizza box, and when there wasn’t a bomb or some kind of spider-themed booby trap inside, just a freshly baked cheese pizza from some local place he’d vaguely heard of, Remus let his shoulders relax and barked out a laugh.

“Well shit,” he said, pleasantly surprised. “Thanks, Webs.”

Spidey was shuffling a bit, looking ridiculously awkward, and Remus was suddenly reminded that they were both just… people under their masks. “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

Remus hesitated, because he hadn’t been kidding about Spiderman owing him a pizza he just… hadn’t actually expected him to follow through. There was no way Remus was eating all of it on his own, he barely ate much as it was.

“Do you, like…” he paused, wondering if this was going to get him punched or laughed at. “Do you want a slice?”

Spiderman actually startled, like him being asked to lunch was just as rare as Remus asking someone to lunch. Jeez, he’d have figured people begged Spiderman to eat with them all the time.

“I, uh… I bought it for you, so—”

“Yeah, and I’m offering. Christ, do you want some pizza or not?”

Spidey still hesitated, and while it was annoying as hell Remus supposed he’d be a hypocrite to judge when he’d been half convinced there was a bomb in the pizza box two minutes ago.

Well, it wasn’t like it would have been the first time.

“Uh, sure,” Spiderman said, still visibly wary. “Thank you.”

Remus ignored him in favor of opening the pizza box and setting it down, motioning for the vigilante to take as much as he wanted.

It wasn’t until Spidey turned away slightly to hook his fingers under the bottom of his mask that Remus remembered- duh- they both had to pull up their masks to eat.

It wasn’t a problem, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to risk exposing their faces to each other, but Remus really wasn’t in the mood to be gawked at. A glance at his jaw might ruin Spiderman’s lunch.

“I’m not looking,” Spidey said, and Remus realized he’d been hesitating for a few too many seconds. “I can go, if you don’t wanna pull up your mask around anyone.”

Remus waved him off, even as he continued to fiddle with the leather. “I’ve got some scars, is all. Like… a lot. People think they’re gross.”

“Oh,” Spiderman said, and then simply shrugged. “That’s fine, I don’t care. Scars happen, dude. I’ve got a bunch.”

Remus still hesitated, a little caught off guard from Spiderman calling him ‘dude' while so nonchalantly eating his pizza just a few feet away, but he quickly pulled himself together and tugged his leather mask up just below his nose.

It was just a few inches of skin, and still enough to reveal a handful of scars littered across his jaw, and the one that stretched down from his cheek.

Spidey barely glanced at him, which Remus guessed he should have seen coming. It’d be a little out of character for New York’s hero to be an asshole about someone’s scars, but you never knew with heroes. Some of them were pretentious assholes.

They ate their pizza like common civilians, perched on their rooftop and watching the people of New York mingle below.

Remus barely ate two slices. He didn’t really eat much to begin with, and it was far more entertaining to watch in silent awe as Spiderman easily finished the rest of the box. The hero was a good two heads shorter than Remus, and looked like he barely weighed a hundred pounds. If Remus didn’t know better, he’d think the guy never ate at all.

“My metabolism is different,” he explained sheepishly when he caught Reus staring. “I eat more than… you know. You. Regular people.”

Remus scoffed, because this was definitely the first time anyone had described him as a ‘regular person’ but he let it slide with an eye roll and a thanks for lunch.

They parted ways, and Remus let himself relax at the thought of having one less enemy roaming New York.

Remus hadn’t meant to start hanging out with Spiderman.

Really, he hadn’t. The impromptu pizza date was supposed to be the end of it, just a slightly awkward peace offering that made it clear neither of them would actively try to kill each other in the near future.

Remus had saved Spiderman because he was bored, and Spiderman had bought him a pizza. That was all.

But then less than a week later Spiderman had swung (literally) by with takeout- coincidentally from Remus’s favorite place a few blocks away- and Remus hadn’t been able to say no to sharing.

They’d shared a meal together three times in the last two weeks, and Remus was starting to think it wasn’t an accident.

It probably wasn’t helping that Remus had started carrying snacks on him.

Remus wasn’t going to eat them himself, and Spiderman was always complaining about how hungry he was, so he’d just started keeping packets of gummies or granola for when he saw the hero swinging past. Chucking them at his head was good target practice, anyway.

That didn’t mean they were friends. Remus didn’t have friends, because being friends with Deadpool was possibly the dumbest idea anyone could ever have.

Remus had seen what happens when people get close to him. He wasn’t going to go through that again.

Apparently, Spiderman had other ideas.

It had been just another fight that Remus had happened to run into, watching for a moment as Spiderman took down what was probably his third armed robbery of the day.

He knew he probably could have just continued on his way and gotten lunch, but there were five of them, all armed, and Remus didn’t feel great about those odds despite Spidey’s reputation.

So Remus had decided to return the favor, Spiderman had introduced himself by butting into Deadpool's fight after all, and stepped in to finish the job twice as fast.

And it had gone fine. Spiderman had greeted him with stupidly cheeky finger guns and unfortunately insisted they keep all of them alive, which wasn’t Remus’s specialty but he’d manage.

It had been easy, some druggie civilians no match for New York’s hero and the merc with a mouth, three of them encased in webbing within two minutes, another on the ground with a bullet in his knee.

It had been fine, until Remus was shot in the chest.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t a big deal. He was shot in the chest all the time. It’d be a hassle if he didn’t get the bullet out before his skin healed around it, but it wasn’t like he could die.

It occurred to him a bit too late that he had forgotten to tell Spiderman that.

“No!”

The raw panic and emotion In Spidey’s voice caught Remus off guard as he stumbled backwards, pain he was unfortunately used to by now exploding in his chest as the bullet met its mark. There had been a fifth goon, hiding out and biding his time, which would have been a great plan if it didn’t end with a face of webs and a swift punch to the temple.

Remus lowered himself to the ground, the wind knocked out of him, dark crimson blood pooling around his hand and flooding through his fingers as he clutched the wound.

Spiderman was rushing over, and Remus could practically feel the worry behind that lifeless mask. He skidded to a stop and dropped to a crouch, hands hovering, frantic and unsure.

And maybe Remus was just an asshole, but this was fucking hilarious.

“Deadpool?” Spidey called, the vigilante leaning over him as Remus dropped to lay on his back. “Jesus- hang in there okay? You’ll be fine.”

Remus forced himself to cough, wet and ragged, biting back a smile. “This is it for me, Webs. I can see the light.”

“Deadpool shut the fuck up!”

“Everything’s getting dark—”

“I said shut up,” Spiderman snapped, and Remus gasped involuntarily, arching his back when gloved hands pressed down on the wound. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re… just- just stay awake, okay? Don’t close your eyes.”

Remus coughed again to hide a smile, blood splattering his chin, closing his eyes anyway and letting his head fall back on the concrete. He stopped listening to Spidey’s rambling, committing to the bit of playing dead- very obviously playing dead, for the record. He stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and everything, waiting for Spiderman to catch on and tell him off.

“No!” Except Spidey still sounded genuinely distressed, only pressing harder on the wound. “No, no, no! Deadpool! Wake up!”

Well. This wasn’t any fun if Spiderman was too panicked to even pay attention. He sighed, opening his eyes again to sit up slightly and whack the vigilante’s shoulder.

“I can’t die, stupid,” he said, grinning when Spiderman scrambled back. “Cut it out. I’ve just gotta get the bullet out so it doesn’t heal around it. Those things hurt like a bitch, so—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Remus opened his mouth to respond, because there were lots of things wrong with him and he had a list at the ready. But he didn’t get the chance because suddenly Spidey was throwing himself forward, wrapping his arms around Remus and pulling him close, probably getting blood all over his suit.

Haha, what the fuck?

“You’re such a bitch,” Spiderman said, muffled since his face was practically buried in Remus’s shoulder. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Aww, were you worried about me?” Remus asked, burying his shock. “That’s so sweet, Spidey.”

“Shut the hell up,” Spiderman growled. “I thought you were going to die.”

“You were so worried! It was so cute, oh my god!”

Spiderman finally pulled back, only to rear back and punch Remus square in the shoulder. Hard.

Remus barked out a laugh, now nursing two injuries. “Fucking- ow. I still feel pain.”

“Sucks.”

Remus crossed his arms, wincing when it pulled at the bullet wound still in his chest. “Rude.”

“I’m rude?” Spiderman asked, incredulous. “You thought it would be funny to play dead!”

“To be fair,” Remus argued. “It was funny.”

“No it wasn’t!”

Remus shrugged, already turning his attention to the bullet in his chest. “If you had known it would be funny.”

“Well I didn’t,” he said, the mask’s white eyes glued to Remus’s hands. “I thought you were dying.”

“I can’t die,” Remus said. “That’s not a joke, Webs. I don’t just regenerate fast, I can’t be killed.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”

Remus shrugged, a little put off because this was not how he’d expected this to go. Damn Spiderman and his stupid savior complex.

He turned his attention back to the bullet wound, the pain already faded to a familiar numbness, but two gloved hands grabbed his wrists before he could start digging around for the bullet.

“Here,” he said, obnoxiously soft. “I’ve got it, let me help.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Remus said, tensing against his will at the thought of someone else caring for a wound. “It’s not too deep, I can get it.”

“Are your gloves clean?”

He took a minute to consider that, calculating the swords he’d been holding, the gun he’d reloaded that morning, coming up blank when he tried to think of the last time he’d properly cleaned any of his weapons. Not to mention he had to climb buildings with his hands, lacking Spidey’s abilities to walk up walls and propel himself across the city in seconds.

“Probably,” he lied. “What am I gonna do, get sick?”

Spiderman hesitated. “Do you do that?”

“No.”

“I can still get it,” Spidey said. “Let me help.”

Remus scoffed, trying to cover up his own uneasiness. “You wanna stick your hand in there? You know it’s gross, right?”

“I know how to remove a bullet, Deadpool,” Spiderman said. “I’ve gotten shot before, I can get it.”

There was no reason not to drop his arms and let Spiderman do what he wanted. The asshole was stubborn, but he obviously meant well. With how shaky Remus’s hands were, Spidey getting the bullet out would probably be quicker anyway.

And he was the city’s hero. He’d made it clear he didn’t mean Deadpool any harm, especially not when the Merc had so graciously dropped in to save his ass today.

Remus didn’t know why it was so hard to just relax.

“This is dumb,” he said, wondering if he could annoy Spidey into giving up. “I can handle it fine.”

“I know,” the vigilante said. “But I want to help. It’s like...returning the favor or whatever.”

Remus sighed, a little shaky now, but reluctantly nodded. The longer they argued, the faster the skin would heal over the bullet still lodged in his chest, and Remus would really like to avoid that happening. Again.

“Fine,” he growled. “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”

Under the mask, Remus was sure Spiderman was smirking at him. “Look who’s talking.”

Remus hadn’t expected Spiderman to be so gentle. He was digging a bullet wound out of Deadpool’s chest, there wasn’t really a way to make this a pleasant experience, but Spidey was taking his time, moving carefully as he dug into the wound.

“Could you hurry up?” Remus growled, teeth clenched. This would have been over in seconds if he was doing it himself. It was so much easier to just stick his hand in the wound, dig around for a second, and rip the bullet out. “I’m not exactly a fan of having someone else’s fingers in my chest.”

Spiderman didn’t even spare him a glance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I got shot,” Remus snapped. “We’re well past that.”

Spidey didn’t respond after that and Remus for once stayed quiet to let him concentrate, breathing heavily to try to ignore the panic that came with being vulnerable like this. The vigilante couldn’t kill him, but he sure as hell could cause him a shit ton of pain.

But he wouldn’t. Remus had to keep reminding himself that he wouldn’t. Spiderman was insufferably good- he wouldn’t kick someone while they were down.

Eventually Spiderman’s fingers found the bullet and Remus gasped, forcing himself to shove the pain away and make a lewd sounding moan when Spidey’s fingers left the wound.

“Jesus,” Spiderman muttered, and Remus laughed when he tossed the bullet dripping in dark blood to the side. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Remus said, and he was. Physically at least. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a civil conversation with someone, let alone had someone willing to help patch him up. “See? All good. It’s already healing itself.”

True to his word, Remus’s chest was fusing itself back together, skin closing up over the still bleeding wound, the rest of the pain fading to a background throb. It’d be like nothing ever happened in ten minutes.

“Holy shit,” Spiderman muttered, leaning in close to watch. Remus tensed uncomfortably. “That’s...fucking wild.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Remus brushed it off, scrambling to his feet and ignoring the way Spidey moved to try and help. “Anyways. Are there any more fights you need me to hold your hand through, or can I go take a nap?”

“Oh please,” Spidey scoffed. “I was fine. All you did was get in the way and get shot.”

“I saved your ass,” Remus retorted, smiling behind the leather mask. “You’d be dead if it weren’t for me, Webs.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Spiderman mumbled, but Remus was willing to bet money he was smiling too. “Go take your nap, Deadpool.”

Remus gave a mock salute, sheathing his sword and turning away from the remnants of the battle and starting for his apartment.

Maybe Spidey wasn’t so bad after all.

[dracosaurusrex]

In His Eyes (Draco x Reader)

Summary: When you find yourself swamped in your insecurities, Draco provides a different perspective in hopes to make you see your beauty.

Wordcount: 1.7k

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: Insecurities w/ body image, swearing

A/N: Got this idea when I was doing the dishes today. I didn’t edit it oops. But, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is very much appreciated!!

‘Mildly’ seemed like an accurate way to describe how Y/N felt about herself at the moment: She was only ‘mildly’ satisfied with the way she looked.

Having an eye for detail was frequently associated with regret, for the smallest things would never go unnoticed. Details such as the thickness of her thighs, the size of her waist, and the small flab that was characteristic of her stomach never failed to pique her attention. Furthermore, details such as the definition of her collarbones and the sharpness of her jawline determined her underlying mood on a day-to-day basis. Some days were better than others--she’d actually smile at the reflection of her figure. Most days, however, were spent admiring the figures of others, which was typically accompanied with the sense of longing for particular features on her own body. 

‘So many flaws.’ She’d repeatedly think to herself as a frown would grace her lips. 

The long table in the Slytherin common room was occupied with students after a tiring day of classes. Concentration was embedded on her facial expression as she stared at the assignment laying in front of her. Her eyebrows furrowed, her lips pulled into a tight line, and her fingers twirled the quill within her grasp. Sitting across from her was Draco Malfoy. The relationship between the two began to bloom as a result of being paired frequently for different class projects. Overtime, Y/N became accustomed to the little quirks of his personality, which ultimately led into a gradual development of fondness for the boy. Small smiles were a common exchange between the two, and was followed by the occurrence of fast paced heart beats and reddening cheeks. As weeks passed, the admiration for one another surpassed the initial levels of attraction, only heightening a little more with every meeting. Unfortunately, this also meant that with every meeting there was an utmost desire to look her best.

Today, the girl felt pleased with the way her hair framed her face. So much so that she actually felt pretty. There was something about the way it highlighted the shape of her eyes, accentuated the shape of her nose, and complimented the manner in which her lips had pulled into a smile. Today, the word, ‘mildly’ was but a distant whisper.

--

Sounds of laughter interrupted the solemnity that filled the common room as Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass came into view. They were much closer to Draco than you were, and had actually shared the same friend group. You greeted one another, however your mind drifted as you took notice of their appearance. They had the body you would dare dream of having, and the fact that they embodied modelesque faces did no justice to your insecurities. The two took a seat with the boy in between, engaging in conversation that consisted of playful banter, inside jokes, and illuminated smiles. They were beautiful, all of them. 

You knew it wasn’t their intent to make you feel that way, but the longer you stayed within their presence, the deeper your heart plummeted. The three words that you had managed to shove in the back of your head began to reemerge, only growing louder as time passed. Soon enough, ‘mildly’ satisfied transformed into insatiable as your self-criticisms overtook you.

You began to observe their small details. Pansy sported short black hair that ended just beneath her jaw. She was equipped with well-defined facial features: pretty lips, deep brown eyes, a pointed nose, all complemented with a personality that oozes charisma. Daphne was no different. Her light brown hair flowed effortlessly over her shoulders, her lips took on an immaculate pink sheen, and her eyes took on a stunning shade of green giving her a goddess-like glow. She was the opposite of Pansy in the sense that she radiated elegance and poise, but both were able to stand alone with looks so inherently artistic yet different at the same time.

With discomfort settling in your chest, you excused yourself from the table to get a breath of fresh air. As soon as you exited the dungeons, harsh commentary began to trickle in. You glanced down at the ends of your hair, your view then shifting towards your stomach, to your thighs, and down to your feet.  

‘Why am I so fucking ugly?’ 

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, a sob stuck to the base of your throat, and the tight clenching of your chest was aggravated the longer you stayed outside. You bit your knuckle to prevent yourself from breaking down. The tears were immensely close to falling now. You would never be satisfied. 

‘Never enough’

‘Never enough’

‘Never enough...when will I ever be enough?’ Deep breaths were taken to control your sobs. However, that didn’t stop the build up of tension within your chest. As the words continued to repeat themselves, you could feel your heart crack open, tears streaming down your face. 

It had been about ten minutes since the two girls left Draco to his own devices. Your extended absence caught his attention, and soon drove him to contemplate your whereabouts. Unlike you, the boy admired the way you looked and who you are in general. He paid no attention to the details that haunted you. Rather, he marveled at your features, and was drawn most specifically to the smile you gave whenever you were around him. It was bright, it was homely, it was infectious and absolutely adorning. Your eyes would take on the form of crescents, while a melodic laugh was produced from your lips. Cheeks flushed in a warm pink shade, your nose scrunched up in delight--the image of you in your entirety reduced his heart beats into a fluttering rage. You were angelic.

The boy held you to such a high regard that the sight of you crying in the hallway placed him in a momentary state of shock. He approached you with much caution--the sound of his footsteps prompted you to hurriedly wipe the tears off your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked. He was now standing at a close distance, examining the details of your saddened expression. Of course you weren’t alright. That was obvious.

“Not at the moment.” You responded in a whisper. Draco stared at you, not quite certain about an appropriate course of action, yet still felt the weight of your hurting in his chest. The air was filled with silence, and awkwardness was beginning to take form. In a quick attempt to make you feel better, he took grasp of your shoulders and pulled you into a warm embrace. The sudden action caused tears to form again, and you soon found your facade disintegrate within his arms. Tears were accompanied by short gasps for air, while the boy held you close, stroking your hair with much care. He was warm, and the sound of his heartbeat was calming. As your cries began to soften, you slowly lifted your arms to wrap them around his torso. 

“Thank you for being here.” You spoke with a voice that was soft and melancholy.

“Will you tell me what the matter is?” He asked. You relished the sound of his voice before responding. 

“Why? Do you care about me?” You ask half-jokingly.

“Yes, I do. A lot actually.” That certainly caught you off guard. You pulled your head away from his chest, and gave him an incredulous look. He looked down at your tear-stained eyes--your eyelashes were glistening. At that moment, all he could think about was how impossible it was for you to look so stunning after a cry session.

“Don’t pull my leg, Draco.” He chuckled.

“I like you, Y/N.” Your eyes widened as you pulled away and took a step back.

“I swear on Merlin’s beard if this is a prank I-” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut up, Y/L/N.” The boy grabbed your wrist and pulled you back in for another embrace. It took you a moment to ease into his arms, but once you did, it was hard to ignore the ecstatic sensation that overtook you entirely.

“I like you too.” You say quietly. Draco didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he displayed his contentment by tightening the grip he had around your waist. After a while, he released you only to interlace his hand in yours, and led you to the edges of the hallway. He leaned his back against the wall, and pulled you closer so you were standing in between his legs. With his hands now holding your waist, he looks at you with concern evident in his features.

“Will you tell me what the matter is now?” You bit your lip, feeling hesitant to tell him the truth. Nevertheless, you do so anyway.

“I felt lacking.” You say looking down

“How so?”

“I feel ugly, Draco. I don’t deem myself as pretty as other girls. I rarely ever do. It’s hard to resist the temptation to compare. I never feel satisfied with myself.” His heart drops at the sound of your words. Without much hesitation, he grabs your wrist again and drags you back into the dungeons, swiftly past the common room, and into his dorm. He then takes your shoulders and spins you, so that you’re faced with a mirror with him standing right behind you.

“Y/N, look. What do you see?” The reflection in the glass taunts you as a frown meets your lips once more. You shake your head.

“I don’t think you understand how beautiful you actually are,” He places his hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Everything about you is so breathtaking. Your eyes, your nose, this waist,” You stared as his palms moved down from your shoulders, briefly stroking your arms, before wrapping them securely around your waist. Your heart was beating ferociously within your chest

“Your smile, your laugh, your personality in general,” He turned you around to face him.

“And these lips.” He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip before looking into your eyes.

“May I?” He whispers. You respond with a ‘mhm’, making him lean in to press a delicate kiss on your lips. As you break away, you wrap your arms around his neck again before locking lips with him once more. Your eyes close when they take in the gentleness that comes from its velveteen texture. He then eagerly cups your face, bringing it  even closer to his. With every second, he attempts to remove the negative thoughts that have corrupted your mind. The moment ends with one last peck before he presses his forehead against yours, enclosing you into another embrace. Within said moment, it comes to your awareness that your insecurities won’t disappear overnight. Nevertheless with the support that you now received, you feel more than confident to take on each day as it comes.

A/N: I just wanna let y’all know that you are beautiful! I hope you have a great day!

Tags:

@beiahadid @hahee154hq @mushi98

Message me or add yourself to the taglist! The link to the form is in my pinned masterlist post :D

[stellocchia]

This is part 5 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3 -  Part 4

So, this time I’m condensing together 2 streams, so It may be slightly longer then Parts 3 and 4... 

Also from here on out as usual we will be talking exclusively about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be treating some heavy themes, so keep that in mind

So, first stream we’ll be talking about is: TommyInnit Is Actually Depressed in Exile

So, as I mentioned at the end of the last one, once the party stream was over Tommy seemed to dissociate and go underwater until he had only one air bubble remaining and then logged off. This stream starts with Tommy drowning and being extremely confused as to how that happened. Also Tommy moved to the second fase of his exile Minecraft skin.

“I held a party and the only person who showed up was Dream. But it’s okay because he’s great! He’s- he’s cool...” 

*Tommy sees a Tubbo statue holding a ‘Your Tommy’ compass* “Tubbo is the reason that I’m out here... ‘Your Tommy compass’? Dream told me that Tubbo lost his compass!” (once again absolutely trusting what Dream says)

“If Tubbo wanted to be here then he could come here and he’s chosen NOT TO! Even if he didn’t get fucking invited to the party, which he did! He’s not shown up once... not to say ‘hi’, not left a gift, not left me anything... he’s just been... Tubbo” 

“Everyone keeps coming to me out of pity and no-one comes in just to say ‘hello’, no the only person who’s- *long pause* the only person who’s done that is Dream... he’s the only person” (this is a bit of an insight on Tommy’s mindset regarding others)

So, now the mailing chest has been moved to underneath Tommy’s bed, because Dream kept intercepting Ranboo’s and Tommy’s mails. Also Ranboo writing “Jesus Christ Dream is scary” in this mail is a mood.

“You know, if it was Tubbo that got exiled, which he wouldn’t have in the first place, everyone would be visiting him everyday. Even if I was the president and I was the one who had to exile him I would have visited him everyday, everyone would have... if the roles were reversed... but the roles aren’t reversed” 

It’s interesting that by now he has internilized that Tubbo would not have been exiled because he’s much more obedient when Dream never cared about that (he did care, but only to the extent of: Tommy not following his orders is the most probable reason for Dream’s obsession with him). He would have pushed for the exile (also known as Glorified Kidnapping) no matter what sooner or later. If Tubbo was the one to be unfortunate enough to attract Dream’s obsession nothing would have changed from that point of view, except, would Tommy have been as afraid of visiting Tubbo as Tubbo was of visiting him? 

Also then Tommy tries to make 2 Screaming Stations. One near the sea and one in the neter (coincidentally directly above the two liquids he almost died from in exile). Neither of them worked, the nether one only resulting effective once a ghast shot him. Also this is the stream where Tommy drops Jack Manifold into lava (though he had no idea that that was a canon kill) and Jack kindaps/kills Tommy’s pumpking girlfriend as revenge? It’s a weird one. Another thing to point out is that Tommy just doesn’t wear armour at any point.

“Why did I just do that? Why did I just kill him?” *joins Jack vc* “Listen, I’m really sorry” (just to specify Tommy did apologize multiple times right after doing it, since a lot of people seem not to remember how things went)

“For some reason I just can’t let it out... why can’t- why can’t I scream?” (said right before a ghast fireballed him and he screamed)

After that Ranboo comes to visit. Tommy also breaks a bit more of the Nether path and then he makes the signs: “You are now entering Logstedshire, population: 1″ and “You are now entering Dream Smp, Happy Place. They’re all happy. It’s not quiet, just happy”. 

“Aside from maybe Dream” *seeing Ranboo* “And also I guess a bit Ranboo no-one’s came to visit me and when they have they’ve been live so that they can go ‘Oh he’s in exile guys, come and look at this! Come and look at this!’” (a good canon interpretation of this is that Tommy is feeling like a carnival attraction as he put it a while ago. Also Ranboo is now his strongest connection aside from Dream)

“I would actually go and get pets since pets are the best thing for sad people, but so far all my pets have just been used to be tortured in war so I don’t wanna- I don’t wanna put them through that...” (that’s a really f*cking grim take that just so happens to be true that was shoved in the middle of a random stream...) 

“Ranboo I’ve had a bit- you know ‘cause Dream isn’t on?” “Mhm” “I reckon I’m gonna- I’m gonna- one day Ranboo I’m gonna fight back, but for now he’s my only friend. Other then you” “Heh, yeah... wait!” “What if I make a little... heh a room”

This bit is quite an important one: Tommy’s first (and last) real act of rebellion against his situation. He’s still confused about it because he thinks of Dream as a friend, but he knows that his situation cannot last forever and that he will need to fight back at some point. He never gets to build a sort of “resistence in exile” type of thing, but he does manage later on to snap out of Dream’s control.

“I’m not gonna fight back now, because I owe everything to Dream. He comes and sees me and he gives me armour sometimes and he makes me happier and he gives me his trident” “Isn’t he the reason why you’re in this situation?” (now Ranboo is the one who took on the role of the one poking holes in Dream’s retoric)

“I made a bee sanctuary or whatever it’s called” “Oh shit! Can I come and see it?” “Oh yeah when you- you come back. When you’re allowed to come back. Which hopefully will be soon” “Oh... you’re like the others” (I’m not entirely sure how to interpret this exchange, but it is the point where Tommy starts loosing trust in Ranboo)

“Apparently Tubbo got a compass” “Yeah! Oh yeah the compass... it got accidentally, like, it was very terrible timing with a charged creeper” “He let it go?” “He didn’t let it go!” “He let me go?” “No he didn’t- he didn’t purposefully let it go, he wouldn’t do that” (this conversation is very much NOT about the compass...)

“But Ranboo, listen, at some point I’m gonna have to do something about this and I don’t know if that’s gonna be... someone’s gonna die” (pretty sure he’s referring to himself there...)

“So recently my buddy Dream has been doing this thing where he um- it makes sense though! Because I’m not in his land anymore, but he ta- he takes shit from me so I need to make sure that I keep them in that chest down there” (it is indeed quite typical for victims of abuse to justify their abuser’s actions and that’s what we’re seeing)

“Everyone in this world you think cares: probably doesn’t”

“You didn’t come to my fucking party Ranboo and I invited everyone!” “You did?” “I didn’t, I didn’t, Wilbur did! And everyone could have came and you didn’t” “Wait what do you mean? There was no invite!”

So, up until now it was of course only speculation that Dream had tampered with the Party invites, but, of course, this is the first proof we have of that fact. Later on Ranboo reiterates his point during the Bedrock Boys Arc, since this time Tommy was still too hurt by it to actually try and listen to him.

“I know that, whatever happens, I’m not gonna be here forever. Wether it’s in exile or wether it’s just here [alive], I’ve no idea how long I’ve got left” (in case it wasn’t obvious: Tommy in exile was suicidal)

“Ranboo everyone always tells me I was the- the- the hero of this server, the one that came and fucking fought Dream and the only one that ever spoke against him but... maybe I was just- maybe this was just meant to be...” (Tommy also very much resents the idea of being a “hero”)

“Doesn’t Dream, like, take your armour? Is that what you said?” “I don’t know I just- hey man, I just follow the boss” (Ranboo was quite aware of at least part of what happened in exile)

We then have Tommy labeling his chasts: ‘don’t let yourself down’ and ‘keep calm and carry on’ and stored away 13 enderpearls. Also closing speach, because it was really good:

“Is it worth it Ranboo?” “What? What worth it?” “Is this [trying to fight back] even worth it?” “I’d say it is. I mean, it’s gonna be tough, it’s gonna be- I mean, I couldn’t even imagine it, but it’s definitely gonna be worth it in the end when you can come back” “In the end...” “I mean at the end of your exile” “*sigh* It’s never gonna end”

Moving on to the next stream we have: Tommy's Exile Is Coming To A Close, which just so happens to not be about Tommy’s exile ending, despite the title, but just about Tommy getting EVEN MORE depressed...

Once again, this stream only has Tommy and later Ranboo and Niki in it, and it’s not too important, so I’ll try to be quick about it. 

The stream starts, once again, with Tommy drowning. This time a bit further away from the coast.

“I don’t think I’ve got very long left. I’m not getting better. I’m not (...) and I- I can just feel it: if this- if it keeps on going how it is right now, if- if this keeps on and I keep being alone and my only friend *pause* is Dream, I don’t have very long- I don’t have very long left” (his mental state just literally plummeted after the failed beach party)

Tommy builds the Thinking Palace and the second Nether bridge to Logsteshire (out of cobblestone and lime green concrete, though he wanted to make it out of clay, how’s that for subtle symbolism?) during this stream. Also, may I point out that Tommy is canonically aware of his eyes becoming less and less blue? Also the response mail that Tommy writes is quite worrying here:

*Tommy falls into water* “Why did I just do that? I don’t think I- I don’t think I chose to dr- *sigh*” (pretty sure this is another instance of dissociation)

“How can I be with other people and still feel so alone?” (that’s because loneliness has nothing to do with how crowded a certain place is and more to do with feelings of alienation)

Either way the stream ends with Niki and Ranboo helping Tommy out with the bridge a bit and that’s it! 

“‘Please speak to Tubbo’? My time with Tubbo is come and gone. He had weeks to come and visit me. He chose- he chose against it. And that’s okay... that’s okay” (we have a second time fram indicating that it’s now been definitely over 2 weeks in their time, considering the last time we got one it had been 13 days)

I reckon the next post will be 3 streams together (since the Mexican Dream and the Drista one are... mostly non-canon and I don’t remember Quackity’s visit being too serious) and then I’ll make one on the final one and that’ll be it, I'm pretty sure...

[kikis-writing-world]

Bug in the System

Summary: Reader has a complicated relationship with Nathan, living and working with him. They’ve always been nervous to bring up prescription medication, so shit hits the fan when they runs out and their mood plummets.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x GN!Reader that struggles with mental health.

Word Count: 2k

Rating/Warnings: Mental health - depression and anxiety are expressly mentioned and reader is in a bad low. Talk of medication and ramifications of not taking them. Mention of doctors. Brief mention of sex. Worries of the stigma around mental health. Lots of swearing because it’s Nathan. Unedited/Betaed. it’s almost fluff in Nathan’s asshole way, there’s a happy ending.

A/N: I blame @foxilayde​ that I’m suddenly writing for Nathan... I hated him when I watched the movie and now here we are. Idk, this idea hit me last night while trying to fall asleep and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to write it.

You weren’t sure how to define the relationship you and Nathan had. He wasn’t your boyfriend - not only did that feel so juvenile, but also… he just wasn’t. There had never been a declaration of love between the two of you, no commitment to monogamy or even non-monogamy. The two of you lived together, worked together, slept together- it could almost be called a friends with benefits relationship, only… softer. You ate dinners together, danced around the house together, and cuddled together when watching movies. You also spent days, sometimes weeks at a time where you hardly spoke to each other when engrossed in a project. Did this form out of attraction, or emotion, or was it an inevitability when two adults - whose sexualities, attractions and availabilities lined up accordingly - lived together in isolation for an extended period of time? 

In summary: there was no easy way to define what was between the two of you, and you were happy there were no other humans around to ask. You didn’t feel the need to defend what you shared, but you had no desire to try to label it either.

Despite the friendly and casual nature of whatever the relationship was, there were still things that you had yet to admit to Nathan. The dwindling supply of medications tucked safely in a make-up bag inside the drawer of your bedside table felt like a ticking time bomb. You only had so many doses remaining and it wasn’t like you could walk down to the local pharmacy for a refill. Any supplies coming to the fortress of a home had to be called in, ordered, and helicoptered to you. There was no way to do it without Nathan finding out along the way.

You watched the pills slowly empty from their plastic bottles like a reverse hourglass. Despite the effects they had on your malfunctioning brain chemistry, they never quite tampered down the anxiety you had about opening up about your mental illness, let alone to someone like Nathan.

Nathan worked hard and played harder. He strove to be the best him he could be at all times. He accepted nothing less than perfection and no matter what the relationship between you two could be defined as -coworkers, employer/employee, friends, friends with benefits, lovers -  you didn’t want to disappoint him.

You avoided and avoided until inevitably, the last pill came out of the last bottle. It only got worse from there. Without the anxieties in check and the chemicals being balanced, the insecurity flared even worse. Your inner voice told you that you deserved the unhappiness flowing through you, that you should just stay in bed and give up since Nathan would kick you out of the house soon enough: he’d either get tired of your low mood, your falling productivity, or he’d discover your secret and be done with you.

He noticed. Of course he did. You stopped dancing, stopped cuddling, stopped fucking. Then you stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped leaving your room. You felt like you couldn’t get out of bed at all. You spent your time sleeping or curled up under your blankets in the dark room wishing you could sleep more. That or just disappear.

That was where Nathan found you, a month and a half after you’d run out of your meds.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” He barged into your room one morning… afternoon… you had no idea what time it was.

Nathan turned the light on and you could hear him pacing. “Are you sick? Do I need to call in a doctor? Are you even alive under there?! Hello?!”

You sighed, forcing yourself to sit up and prove you were alive, awake, and hearing him. The blankets dropped to your waist, revealing what you were sure was an absolute mess of a human. You knew what you looked like the last time you’d been brave enough to look in the mirror and you were sure it was even worse now.

Nathan cursed and you swear he nearly recoiled at the sight of you. “Are you in here dying on me or something?” He questioned. 

You weren’t sure how to answer, what you could possibly say to him.

“Hello?!” He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Is anybody in there?!”

You blinked as he crowded you, hysterics growing as you seemingly ignored him. You could tell he was close to grabbing you and shaking you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle that. As it was, your muscles had protested sitting up. Instead, you leaned over and opened your drawer, taking out the zippered make-up bag.

You tossed the pouch at him, hearing all the plastic bottles click together as it landed at his feet. He bent down to pick it up, opening it carefully like he thought some sort of creature might jump out at him. His brows furrowed when he saw the bottles inside and dumped them out onto the mattress.

“Are these all empty? Fuck did you take these?” He questioned, panic rising in his voice. “Are you trying to OD on me or something? Shit.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, about to call for help.

“No.” You croaked. “Well, yeah. I took them… but… they’re my meds.” You gave in. “I’ve been taking them since I got here. I[was taking until they ran out.”

Nathan looked down at the bottles, picking one up as he read the label. “What are they for?”

“Depression mostly. Anxiety.” You shrugged, listing the simple ones.

Nathan was quiet as he read the bottles. You had no idea if he knew what any of them meant. It’s not like the labels read “Take one daily to stop the crazies!” The names, the dosages, the frequencies meant nothing to someone with no experience… but then again, Nathan wasn’t just anyone.

“How long?” He sighed, turning to sit on the edge of the bed.

You would have deflated if you didn’t already feel as low as you could go. Having assumed the worst, you weren’t surprised he couldn’t look at you.

“I was diagnosed in junior year-”

“No, I mean how long have you been without your meds?” He interrupted you, turning to stare  you down.

“A month.” You shrugged. “Almost two.”

“For fucks sakes.” He grumbled, turning to his phone again and typing away.

“I’ll pack my shit. Just, give me a few days and I’ll go.” You mumbled, laying down on your side and facing away from him. You didn’t want to watch him posting for a new assistant or scheduling the pick-up or whatever he was doing. You’d wallow for a bit, probably take a nap, and then you’d pack anything here that was important. Fuck the rest. You didn’t have the energy. You didn’t care.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He asked distractedly, like he hadn’t heard you as his cogs of his brain jumped to life. He did that a lot when he was preoccupied. He would hear your voice, realize you’re talking, but not absorb the words. Sometimes he needed to ask 3 or 4 times until you gave up and texted him instead.

“I’m bringing in a doctor. You need to get checked out before you start back up on anything. You’re not supposed to go off of these without supervision. Says so right here. Black and white.” He chastised you.

You frowned, looking over your shoulder in confusion. You saw him still typing away on his phone, holding one of the empty, orange-tinted bottles in his hand. He set it down, picking up another. He took a picture, looking over the label quickly for himself before setting it back down.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending him the labels so he knows what he’s walking into. Why the fuck would you just stop taking your meds?” He sniped. “Why didn’t you get more? I fucking ask you if you need shit and you just conveniently forget your pills?”

You picked at a thread of the blanket, not wanting to watch him as he grew angrier with you. As soon as you were in good health and his conscience was clear, he’d be rid of you. You were sure of it. It was more than you’d expected to be honest.

You heard the quiet noise from his phone, indicating the email had been sent. That meant his attention wasn’t divided as he rounded back on you.

“Why won’t you answer me? It’s like fucking talking to a wall or something. If I wanted one-sided conversations, I never would have brought you up here. Why didn’t you get more?!”

You took a shuddering breath before answering. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what? That you take medication?” He scoffed in disbelief.

The room was quiet as you didn’t answer, but you could practically hear his brain processing, whirring like a computer with a squeaky exhaust fan.

“Hey, look at me.” He ordered, his voice dropping in volume to a kinder tone, but it was still not a request. It was a demand. You sat up again, looking at him stare at you with dark, angry eyes.

“When a program isn’t working, do you throw away the whole CPU or do you debug it and fucking find the fix?” He asked. You didn’t answer, assuming it was rhetorical.

“Your software is fucked, and these,” he picked up one of the bottles to hold up between you two. “These are the fix. Why the fuck would you be embarassed about shit like that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze again. “You’re…” you struggled to find the words, but Nathan jumped on your train of thought frighteningly quick.

“Me?! So it’s my fault? I eat brown rice and salad and work out every day so I’m some health nut hippy who wouldn’t understand, is that it?”

He was putting words into your mouth, but he was essentially getting the point. You were scared he would reject you, mock you, think less of you.

He crawled towards you on the bed, cupping your chin a little too tight as he lifted your face. He was clearly done having you look away from him. “I’m a fucking reclusive genius who lives in the middle of ass fuck nature and only lets people come and go with a goddamn keycard! Do you not think I’m self-aware enough to realize that? A fucking prodigy, multi-millionaire by 15, CEO of the most successful technology company in history. The President calls me and I hit ignore. Do you really think I’m not self-aware enough to know we all have our own brand of fucked up?” He laughed.

“If you need these to get through it, to be my little genius-” He released your jaw to cup your face in both hands, giving it a shake. “To keep up with my shit, to live here without losing your mind at the isolation, to be my dance partner and dinner partner and movie date - then fucking take them. Would I be having to tell you this if it was for your blood pressure or a heart condition or something?!”

His phone buzzed and he released his hold on you, leaning back to read the message that had just come through.

“Doc’s gonna be here tomorrow morning. Gotta keep you hydrated until then and you should try to eat.” He summed up the message as his eyes skimmed the screen. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before slapping your blanket-covered thigh. “What are we eating tonight? Your choice.”

“I’m not hungry.” You mumbled.

“Not an option!” He declined as he stood off the bed. “What are we eating?”

You sighed, letting your head fall back as you thought. “Grilled cheese?”

“And tomato soup? Coming right up.” He leaned over to you, cupping the back of your head as he pulled you close enough to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata​