#and I am buckled up and so ready for the ride

[vanserrasimp]

oh this is SO good!! The ANGST!!! if you have an overall taglist please add me!

aghhh dude I’m so eager for part 3 please let there be a part 3

Cruel Fates (Part 2)

Pairing: Azriel x f!Reader, little Eris x f!Reader

Summary: Azriel is your mate but only you know it. You are very aware that he has eyes for someone else and thus you decide not to hide it forever. After all, what could go wrong right?

Warnings: Angst (I don't think I can ever stop myself from writing angst.)

Based on this ask.

4.1K words

Previous part

You found yourself aimlessly wandering along the banks of Sidra after storming out on Rhys. The ambient noise enveloped you—the rhythmic splashes of the river against rocks, the bustling chatter of the market, birds chirping in the background. Everything felt mundane, yet strangely comforting. Ignoring your problems wasn’t a solution, as Rhys had pointed out, but it was undeniably easier than facing or even acknowledging them. Nevertheless, you had resigned yourself to the current state of affairs.

Using distraction as your shield, you returned home burdened with bags filled with new books, clothes, and other unnecessary items. As you entered the elegant two-story building you called home, a sense of familiarity and solace washed over you. This palace had become a sanctuary, a reflection of your own essence.

Closing the door behind you with a soft thud, you were greeted by the familiar scent of citrus and jasmine. Setting down the bags, you kicked off your shoes. The silence of the house stood in stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the market. Just as thoughts of Azriel slipped from your mind, your senses sharpened, recognizing the subtle hum of shadows.

"Ah, the shadow singer. Ever heard of knocking or privacy?" you quipped, though you didn’t need to turn to know it was him.

"I'm a spymaster; it's not in my nature," he replied with his customary soft smile.

Refusing to let your gaze linger on him for too long, you busied yourself by fetching a glass of water.

"How can I assist you, Azriel?" you inquired as you filled the glass in the kitchen beyond the hall where he stood. You still felt a distance from him, not quite comfortable enough to address him as Az like your sisters, Feyre or Elain, did.

"Can't I simply enjoy your company?" he teased, his voice gentle.

Turning away, you closed your eyes for a moment, mentally reminding yourself to compartmentalize. "He's just being polite," you repeated to yourself, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that reminded you of Elain's constant talk about him. "He treats Elain the same."

You scoffed, hoping it didn’t come across as too rude. "Yeah, sure. Now, what brings you here?"

"We're expecting Eris to arrive in a few hours, around sunset. Rhys wanted me to ask if you've changed your mind."

Ah, you had forgotten about the impending meeting with the prince. You sighed. "And Rhys couldn’t ask me himself because?" It was a rhetorical question, but Azriel seemed unaware.

"He mentioned that you two had a disagreement, and he wasn’t sure if you'd be open to talking."

"Of course, I'll talk to him. I’m not a child," you replied, your brows furrowing. "And yes, I still intend to attend that meeting."

Azriel nodded, his expression unreadable as always. "Good to know. In that case, he asked me to inform you that you’ll have to deal with this meeting on your own, there are some crises with an Illyrian camp that he had to attend to, and he is running late.”

“Oh,” A part of you was glad that Rhys let you handle this, “It’ll just be me then?”

The spymaster shook his head, “Of course not, I’ll accompany you.”

You nodded as you were unsure of the right response, “Is there anything else I should know before I meet Eris?”

Azriel paused and started slowly, “My shadows tell me he wishes to overthrow his father. But it’s difficult to know what’s the truth.”

“Ahh, that’s why Rhys put me on this.”  you realized as Azriel nodded in response.

You wondered why Rhys requested you accompany him to a meeting with Eris. The powers you got from the cauldron were unique. Your ability ranges from slowing a person's pulse to snatching the air from their lungs as long as the target must be in your line of sight. You can command human organs and regulate emotions by releasing certain chemicals in the body. This allows you to induce suffocation by removing air from someone's lungs, controlling blood flow, causing heart attacks, dictating heart rhythm, and slowing healing. Aside from being extremely valuable in a battle, you can also act as a living lie detector, by monitoring a person’s physiological response.

“Alright, I’ll be there, is there anything else?” 

Azriel looked like he was about to say something before he muttered a no.

“You know better than to lie to me, what is it?”

He signed before he finally asked, “I knew that you and Rhys got close in a short time but I didn’t realise you were close enough that he trusted you to handle a meeting alone. That too with Eris.”

“Honestly, I didn't know either.” you said, “Rhys and I connected so quickly that it felt like I had known him for years, he is the older brother I never had. I am glad that he trusts me to handle this.”

You noticed a strange emotion flash in his eyes for a quick second before he gave a soft smile “I am happy for him, I am glad he found a friend in you, y/n. Cassian and I may be his brothers but he still doesn't confide in us completely, he is too afraid to burden us. Feyre and you are good for him.”

You returned his smile, “We all need someone to lean on.” 

“Well, Is there anything you need assistance with before then?", he asked.

You shook your head, dismissing any further conversation. "No, I'll manage. Thank you, Azriel."

He lingered for a moment, as if debating whether to say something else, but ultimately turned to leave without another word.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. It wasn’t directed at Azriel, but rather at yourself for the walls you had built, preventing anyone from getting too close. Yet, at the same time, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting those walls crumble, leaving you vulnerable to the possibility of rejection. Aside from that, even if he did feel the same way, how long will it last? That too with your newly immortal lifespan? You have witnessed true love fall apart in a short time in the human lands. How would it not end in anything but pain in the life of an immortal? If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that to love, is to destroy. Not telling Azriel was the best option for yourself, you were not going to invite pain to your doorstep.

With a heavy heart, you retreated to your room. You knew that sooner or later, Azriel would find out but for now, you allowed yourself the temporary respite of distraction. 

Later that day, the anticipation of Eris's arrival hung heavy in the air as you prepared for the meeting. Despite your best efforts to focus on the task at hand, thoughts of Azriel and the unresolved tension between you lingered at the edges of your mind.

As the sun began its descent, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, a knock at the door signalled Eris's arrival. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you made your way to the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest.

Opening the door, you were met with the sight of Eris standing tall and imposing, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a striking shade of amber, sparkled with mischief as he took in your appearance.

If you were to describe him, you'd call him the living embodiment of fire. 

He was the light to Azriel's dark, they were opposite in every way possible.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't the infamous Y/N," he drawled, his voice smooth like silk. "I must say, you're even more captivating in person."

You rolled your eyes at his flattery, though you couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement that his words stirred within you. "Save the charm, Eris. It won’t work on me."

He chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you, the air between felt charged, "You wound me, darling. I assure you, my intentions are nothing but genuine."

Before you could retort, Azriel appeared beside you, his presence like a sudden gust of wind that left you breathless. Though his expression remained neutral, you couldn’t shake the feeling of tension radiating from him.

You did miss how Azriel's heart rate was unusually increased, while Eris' remained stable calm and genuine, just like he mentioned before. 

“Eris," Azriel greeted with a nod, his voice devoid of warmth.

"Az," Eris replied, his smirk widening as he used Azriel's nickname. "Always a pleasure."

The air crackled with unspoken tension as the three of you made your way to the meeting room. Eris's gaze lingered on you, his eyes flickering with a mixture of curiosity and desire that sent a shiver down your spine as you all took your seats.

“Imagine how surprised I was when my high lord told me that you had requested a meeting with the night court.” you began holding the prince’s eyes.

“I had requested to meet Rhysand but I am not complaining. You are far better to look at.” Eris said with a smirk that never seemed to leave his face.

“I'll inform him that you were pleased by the arrangement.” you replied with an earnest smile.

Maybe this could be fun, you thought.

Maybe you found Eris fun.

As Eris seemed to give another flirty retort, Azriel spoke.

“Why are you here?

“Ugh! You are no fun Azriel. It’s not like you don't know already.”

You raise your brows at him, asking him to elaborate. 

Eris obliged, “I want to…” he  seemed to pause choosing his words carefully, “relieve my father from his duties and be the high lord of Autumn court.”

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh at his words, “‘relieve my father of his duties’? My, my, whatever happened to daddy's loyal boy?” 

You caught the slight upper tilt of Azriel's lips just as your powers detected the slight rise in the pulse of Eris before it slowed down again.

“Apparently he's not as loyal as you thought.”

“How can we trust you?”

“Who are you kidding, princess? I'd be a fool not to know about your interesting powers.”

“Fair enough, what does the night court have to do with this?”

“Help me, to get rid of my father, support my claim as the high lord.”

“Why would we do that? We’d then be replacing one monster for another.” you shot back.

If your words affected him, he showed no signs of it, physically at least, but the small spike in his cortisol levels and the drop in his pulse told you your words hit their mark.

Eris's smile tightened ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure, leaning back in his chair with an air of practised ease. "I can see why you might think that, but I assure you, I'm not my father. Unlike Beron, I see the value in alliances and mutual benefit."

Azriel crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Convincing words, Eris, but words are cheap. What do you have to offer in return for our support?" 

You couldn’t honestly remember when was the last time you had heard him speak this much, or if you had ever interacted with him for more than a few words.

Eris's gaze flickered to Azriel, then back to you. "Information. My father is planning something that could have catastrophic consequences for all of us. He's been working with a human queen—one who has a vested interest in starting a new war between our realms."

Your heart skipped a beat, a sense of dread settling over you. "Which queen?"

Eris's expression grew grave. "Queen Briallyn. She's amassed a formidable army and is working with my father to create a weapon that could tip the scales in her favour."

You exchanged a glance with Azriel, whose stoic expression betrayed a flicker of concern. "What kind of weapon?"

"One that can manipulate the very fabric of magic itself," Eris replied, his voice low and serious. "It could render even the most powerful High Lords and their courts defenceless."

Azriel's eyes darkened. "And you have proof of this?"

Eris reached into his coat and pulled out a small, intricately carved box. He placed it on the table and opened it to reveal a collection of documents and maps. "These are the plans and correspondences between my father and Queen Briallyn. Everything you need to verify my claims is right here."

You leaned forward, scrutinizing the documents. The meticulous detail and undeniable authenticity left little room for doubt. 

You sighed passing the letters to the shadowsinger. "Just when we thought Prythian had a moment of rest."

Eris met your gaze, his expression was earnest. "Our courts need to work together."

You considered his words, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. It was a risk, but the potential consequences of inaction were too dire to ignore. "Assuming we agree to help, how do you propose we go about it?"

Eris's smirk returned, though there was a determined glint in his eyes. "We can meet regularly and update eachother with what we know and proceed from there."

Azriel's gaze remained fixed on Eris, his expression unreadable. "And what guarantees do we have that you won't betray us once you have what you want?"

Eris leaned forward, his amber eyes burning with intensity. "You have my word and the knowledge that if I betray you, I'll be signing my own death warrant. Beron would kill me in a heartbeat. I need this alliance as much as you do."

You took a deep breath, weighing the risks and benefits. Finally, you nodded. "Alright, Eris. We'll discuss this with our high lord and get back to you. But know this—if you betray us, there will be nowhere in this world you can hide."

Eris inclined his head, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Understood. Now, I've always been curious about your powers," he began, his tone light but laced with genuine interest. "I've heard rumours, but I find that firsthand accounts are always more... enlightening."

You arched an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression. "Have you now, Eris? And I’m not in the habit of revealing my secrets to just anyone." Your powers were not publicized much, you and Rhys decided it was more advantageous to keep it quiet. But they weren’t a secret either.

Eris chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Ah, but I'm not just anyone, am I? People talk about you being able to control the very essence of life itself. Now, that sounds rather impressive, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, crossing your arms. "Rumours tend to exaggerate. I'm sure the truth is far less exciting."

Eris took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Is that so? From what I understand, you can manipulate the body on a molecular level. Imagine the possibilities... and the danger."

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Dangerous, perhaps, but only to those who give me a reason to use it."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Fair enough. But tell me, how does it work? Do you just think about it and—poof—someone's heart stops beating?"

You gave him a sly smile. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Or at least give you a nasty headache."

Eris laughed, a rich, warm sound that filled the room.

Eris's expression grew more serious, though his smile remained. "You know, Y/N, there's something else I've been thinking about.”

You looked at Azriel and joked, “Look at that! You have certainly been thinking a lot recently, haven’t you Eris? Looks like you’ve been having a lot of thoughts.” You were surprised that Azriel gave a small smile from the way he had tensed this entire meeting, waiting for a chance to pounce on the Autumn prince.

Eris widened his smile at your comment as he continued, “Here’s my proposal, this alliance between us... it could be more than just a political arrangement."

You tilted your head, intrigued despite yourself. "Oh? And what exactly are you suggesting, Eris?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm suggesting a union between our courts, a marriage of sorts. Think about it—together, we’d hold so much power." 

Azriel lost all his self-control as he whispered in a deadly calm tone, “You have gone insane.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. Your powers silently rush to soothe Azriel before he does something reckless, "You certainly don't lack ambition, I'll give you that. But why on earth would I consider such an arrangement?" 

Eris's gaze softened, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes. "Because I believe we could be unstoppable together. You're powerful, intelligent, and, if I may be so bold, quite captivating. With your abilities and my resources, there's no limit to what we could achieve."

You felt a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even the faintest hint of intrigue.

“Too bad you were already mated, if only he knew”, you thought to yourself.

A slow thought crept into your mind, “So what if you were mated? Nothing was going to come out of it anyway.” 

"Captivating, am I? You do know how to charm, Eris. But you'll have to do better than that to convince me."

Eris's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Consider it, Y/N. Imagine what we could accomplish together. The Autumn Court and the Night Court united as one. We could bring peace, prosperity, and a new era of cooperation to our people."

You studied him for a long moment, weighing his words. There was no denying the potential benefits of such a union, but there were also risks—trusting Eris was a gamble, and one you weren't sure you were ready to take. Thoughts of what he did to Mor screamed in your head.

“I didn’t forget your past with Morrigan, Eris. You still expect me to agree to this?”

His eyes narrowed at that, “Morrigan knows the truth of what happened that day. Ask her for the entire truth.”

Confusion bloomed inside you at his words but you did not have time to sort through lies now, Azriel was too agitated and you were left with an important choice to make.

"I'll think about it," you finally said, your tone careful. "But don't get your hopes up, Eris. I'm not so easily won over." you slipped a mask of playfulness again.

Eris chuckled, rising from his seat with a graceful fluidity. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Y/N. Just promise me you'll keep an open mind."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll keep an open mind. But remember, Eris—if you cross me, you'll regret it."

He inclined his head, his expression earnest. "I wouldn't dream of it. Until next time, Y/N."

With that, Eris turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The idea of a union with Eris was both tempting and daunting, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you—and for your courts.

The room settled into an uneasy silence. You could feel the tension radiating from Azriel beside you, a stark contrast to his usually calm demeanour. His jaw was clenched, and his shadows seemed to writhe and twist around him with a life of their own.

You turned to face him, concern etched into your features. "Azriel, what's wrong? If I hadn’t calmed you Mother knows what you’d have done to him!"

Azriel’s eyes, usually a cool and controlled shade of hazel, now burned with a fierce intensity. "What's wrong? Are you seriously considering his proposal, Y/N?"

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction, you have never seen this side of him.

 "It's not as simple as that, Azriel. We have to consider all options if we want to ensure the safety of Prythian."

He took a step closer, his voice low and filled with barely suppressed anger. "Eris is playing a dangerous game. A union with him? You can't seriously think that's a good idea."

You met his gaze, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm not saying I'm going to marry him tomorrow, Azriel. But we can't dismiss his proposal outright. There’s the potential benefit—"

Azriel cut you off, his voice rising. "Potential benefit? He's manipulating you, Y/N! He wants power, and he’ll use you to get it. Do you really believe he has anyone's interests at heart other than his own?"

You felt a surge of defensiveness, your own anger flaring in response. "And what if he does? What if this alliance could actually bring about the change we need? We can’t afford to let personal grudges cloud our judgment. He meant everything he said today, not a single ill-intended thought!"

Azriel’s expression darkened, his shadows growing more agitated. "This isn't about personal grudges. This is about trust, about loyalty. Eris has proven time and time again that he can’t be trusted. And now he's proposing a union with you? He’s trying to bind you to him, Y/N. To control you."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I know it’s risky, Azriel. But we need allies. We need every advantage we can get if we're going to take down Beron and stop this war."

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And what about your own safety? What about the risk to you? I can't stand by and watch you put yourself in danger for a power-hungry prince who will betray you the first chance he gets."

Your heart ached at the raw concern in his voice, hope threatened to manifest in you but you shoved it aside and held your ground. "Why do you care, Azriel? I can take care of myself. I’m not making any decisions lightly. I just need to consider every option."

Your words cut through the air like a sharp blade, and for a moment, Azriel seemed taken aback by your response. His gaze softened, his expression filled with a mixture of frustration and hurt.

"Why do I care?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because you are like Rhys’s little sister, you are one of us. Because I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

Though a part of you was glad he cared about you you scoffed in disbelief, “Right. Because I am important to Rhys. Well, this decision is mine to make and I will discuss it with Rhys as it concerns his court. I’ll be sure to take what you feel into consideration. Thank you for your input, Azriel.”

His gaze hardened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Fine. If that's how you want it. But have you ever stopped to consider the possibility that you might have a mate, Y/N?"

The question hung in the air like a heavy weight, the implication sinking in with a sickening certainty. You felt your breath catch in your throat, the blood draining from your face as you struggled to comprehend his words.

"What if you have a mate out there, waiting for you?" Azriel continued, his voice soft but filled with an undercurrent of pain. "What then?"

You recoiled as if struck, the weight of his words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. The truth, the painful, unbearable truth, threatened to drown you in its depths. A dry, joyless laugh came out of you.

"I don't have a mate," you spat out, your voice trembling with rage. You lied without a second thought. The ease of it scared you. "And even if I did, it's none of your damn business, Azriel. Stay out of my life."

With that final, venomous retort, you turned on your heel and winnowed out of the room, leaving Azriel behind in a cloud of anguish and regret. 

As you fled down the empty corridors of the townhouse, your heart ached with a pain you couldn't name. 

You opened Rhys’s study door without a second thought and sighed in relief as you found Feyre and him.

Realization of what truly happened spread through you like a bolt of lightning hit you. Both of them were quickly at your side, worried and asking you questions. A single tear slipped as your voice broke,

 “Not telling him was one thing, but lying to him? Oh cauldron, what have I done?”

Taglist: @sidthedollface2, @a-courtof-azriel, @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog, @acourtofsmutandstarlight,@katherinejess, @mybestfriendmademe, @landofpetrichor, @isa1b2h3, @anuttellaa, @cherryinsalemverse

Let me know if you want to get added to the list or if I missed someone!

[wikitpowers]

happy new year, folks!!!!

if life ever tries to bring you down just remember everyday is a day closer to twp... U CAN DO THIS!

i hope ya'll have a great year and achieve all your goals! wishing u all the very best!

p.s. cassie will be posting more twp updates in this new year and spam us with brand new artwork, stories and teasers and 2024 will be a good year dw<3

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 19

(I know I'm tech on a break this week, but I could use the serotonin.) masterpost

“He understands that I am coming over?” Damian asked as he inspected his pencil case to make sure he had everything he needed. Father would be picking him up from art class to fetch lunch.

“Yep, Danny knows we’re bringing lunch over,” Grayson answered. His thumb swiped idly across his phone.

Damian took a slow breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He loved Grayson, but it did not mean that the other was not an idiot sometimes. Sometimes family meant loving someone even though they were an idiot, Damian reminded himself.

In an attempt to start again, Damian stayed silent until he was sure that he had all of his supplies in his messenger bag. “I meant, does Danny understand that it is specifically me bringing the food? Does Danny understand who I am?”

“Oh, Dami baby, yeah,” Grayson said, voice softening in a way that made Damian bristle. At least Grayson finally set his phone down. “Jay talked to him about it and is still there at the apartment with Danny now. I’ll over over to give Jason a break and be there when you and Bruce come. Do you want me to double check with Danny before you arrive?”

Damian frowned as he adjusted the strap on his bag.

“Yes,” Damian answered after a pause and when he could meet Grayson’s eyes confidently. “I believe that the redundancy would not go amiss.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll be sure to double check before you and Bruce get there.”

“Acceptable,” Damian said and let to find Pennyworth for his ride to class.

Doing art calmed him. That knowledge had been a surprise at first. While Damian had, of course, learned about art as part of his cultural and historical training, actually being able to engage in art was was something entirely knew. Something that was available to Damian only because of his Father’s allowance.

No, that was not quite right. Father didn’t allow Damian to do art, Father simply wanted them to be happy and art is what made Damian… perhaps not happy, but at least more at peace.

Peace had been such a rare thing in Damian’s life.

He still didn’t quite know what to do with it.

Annoyingly, class that day didn’t quite manage to tamper the churning in Damian’s gut. He could (and would) ignore the feeling, of course, but that did not mean it wasn’t there.

Or that it didn’t grow as Damian was waiting for Father to pick him up for class.

“You have put in the order we discussed?” Damian asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Yes, it should be ready shortly after we get there,” Father answered. “You were out quickly today.”

“Tch,” Damian looked away from his father’s searching gaze and focused on the world outside the window. He hated to have tells, but in a family of detectives it was impossible not to. “If it unlikely to be ready, perhaps we should stop by the Turkish bakery that is near. Surely there are items there that are not too sweet for his diet.”

“That’s a nice idea,” Father agreed with a thoughtful hum. “He may have never had them before so we can get a little selection of what you think he needs to try.”

Damian worked not to physically freeze. That felt suddenly like a great deal of responsibility. Which was silly, it was simply food.

“That is a sound idea,” Damian said instead of trying to face his sudden worry.

It was even more overwhelming in the face of all the options. Damian certainly spent far too long making a selection, but Father doesn’t rush him, so Damian tries to allow himself the time. The food is easily acquired after. Far too quickly that they were in front of the safehouse door. Father rested one hand on the back of Damian’s back, a bracing presence, before he knocked.

“Coming!” Grayson called needlessly through the door a few moments before he it swung open. “Hey guys, come in. It’s all good.”

Damian resisted the urge to nod to that, took a breath, and crossed the threshold.

Danny sat on the couch. The fabled day saving blue bear was clutched in the boy’s lap; clutched too tightly. Damian shot Grayson an accusatory look. Clearly it wasn’t ‘all good’.

Grayson rolled his eyes and took the box of sweets from Damian to take to the kitchen with Father.

Damian was left alone with Danny.

At least it gave Damian time to properly study the other boy. Not blood son. Clone. Better and worse at once— a copy of Father. It was clear how much Danny looked like Bruce, a redundant thought now that they knew Danny was a clone, but it crossed Damian’s mind all the same. It was odd to see the still slightly sunken cheeks and too prominent collar bones on someone that looked so much like Father, so much more like Father than Damian did.

Idly, Damian wondered if Danny would ever reach Father’s stature, what with his past. Damian himself had started to grown into wild shoulders and broad chest that would someday be his body over the last year, but Danny had not.

Danny, at least a year older, was still far too slight.

But older.

The oldest blood.

Would he try to take Damian’s place now? It would only be just, with how poorly Damian had behaved when he first arrived, especially to Drake. And Damian’s brash attacks, Danny would have the right to his. He was oldest…

“Are… are you alright?”

Damian’s head snapped up at Danny’s words. When had he lost his focus?

“I do not know,” Damian said, too honest words tumbling across his tongue without his permission.

He didn’t know.

[tthoroughfare]

crush (part 3) // abby anderson

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: it's the beginning of whatever's going on between you and abby.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: canon!abby x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: nsfw. fingering (r!recieving), oral (both!recieving), thigh riding, facesitting, i am laying the foundations for spit kink if Anyone Else May Be Into That. i was in heat writing this clearly. manny is really fucking irritating but he doesn't mean it he's just being silly

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.8k

this is part three of this series! find part one here

masterlist

heyyy i hope you enjoy part 3! i didn't ever intend for this series to be a long one but god i just love abby so much. fun fact i have already planned out and written the epilogue for a second series following on from crush when it's done and i know where it's all gonna go already... and it stays as true to canon as possible... so yeah.... buckle up if you wanna stick around

you don’t exactly keep it a secret, but there’s an unspoken agreement you’re not going to explicitly tell anyone. from your perspective, you’re overly conscious that abby is going to have to come out if everyone knows about the two of you. you know all too well how that feels, how conflicting and scary it is, and you really don’t want to add any pressure where it’s not needed. it’s up to her, and you know she’ll talk to you about it when she’s ready.

plus, it’s all so new. you don’t mind taking it slow, just feeling each other out in uncharted territory.

although you don’t say anything to each other, you’re both aware of the way people must realize you’ve started getting a little more touchy. not anything crazy, just how you’ll go for your lunch break and spot her in the mess hall, coming up behind her and giving her shoulder a light squeeze as you bustle past to get your food, shooting a smile back her way when she looks up. you never did that before. she also never used to sit so close to you when you were in a group conversation, placing her hand on your wrist and swiping her thumb over fondly when she laughed at something you said.

she never used to skip the gym either, but she finds herself doing that on more than a couple occasions just to come to your makeshift lab and sit at the side of you while you work late, asking questions about what you’re doing and staring at you with puppy eyes while you explain. you know she doesn’t really care about the intricacies, doesn’t really have any idea what you’re talking about, but you go through it with her regardless, enamored by the way she nods along and gazes at you with a stupid, tiny smile on her face.

you think manny figures it out not too far in. no, you know. 

there’s a night where he's not supposed to be back until late, and it rarely lines up that you and abby both aren't working the next day, so you decided to spend it at their place. you bring along some music to play, a bottle of tequila; and before you have time to compute you're on the floor against her bed, straddled over her lap, her tongue in your mouth.

the door bursts open, and you jump apart, red-faced and guilty. manny pauses and gives you an odd look, a hint of a smirk there, but doesn’t say much — just lets out a heavy, ‘oh’, then, “sorry.”

the air’s thick, awkward as he heads over to his bed, rifling through his bag while you shoot a look at abby. she mirrors you, pulling a face then asking if he’s staying before she has time to think about it.

“uh… yeah? i live here,” he replies, and with that she just states that you’re heading out, going over to yours instead so you’re not ‘bothering him’.

you grab your things and utter an uncomfortable goodbye to him as you leave, mind spinning with it all as you walk through the stadium, how inconspicuous abby had been.

it’s easily forgotten, though, when your door closes and she presses you up against it near instantly, want dripping through the way that she kisses you, the way that her hands gently grip at your waist.

she fucks you with her fingers right there, you unable to do much else apart from dip underneath her shirt and scratch at her back, taken by her boldness. you like seeing this new side of her, how desperate she is to feel you.

“tell me how you want it, please,” she murmurs into your neck, punctuating her sentence with a filthy kiss underneath your ear, “tell me when it feels good.”

you nod, head leaning away from her, giving her more access to the smooth expanse of your skin. “f-fuck, abby, harder, curl your fingers more.”

she responds right away, pressing up into you as she fucks you, leaning back from your neck to look at your face. “like that?”

your nails dig into her skin and she likes it, likes the small bite. likes knowing you’re losing control because of her.

“yeah, fuck, please, like that.”

she continues to work you through it, looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky. you rock into her, letting her take you as hers, uttering out more dirty praises:

“fuck, abby, you’re s-so deep.”

“need you so bad, mmph, fucking need you…”

“feels so good, just like that, fuck, please—”

and then she presses harder still, picking up the pace, heel of her hand meeting your clit in just the right way, and you cum for her. you clench around her rhythmically as you ride it out, moaning into her mouth and grasping at her shirt, her skin, all desperate attempts to ground yourself.

you’re left slack jawed and flushed, panting as you come down.

“fuck, abby,” you breathe out after a moment.

“w-was that good?”

you chuckle and move a hand to her shoulder, squeezing gently. “the fuck do you think?”

she blows air through her nose and kisses at your neck, withdrawing her fingers and letting them rest over your throbbing pussy. “i don’t know. just checking.”

you end up on your bed, eating each other out. it starts with you pushing abby until the backs of her knees hit the frame, needing to make her feel good too, needing to taste her. she moans lowly as you situate yourself on top of her, desperately pulling her shirt off and attaching your lips around her nipple. your hand comes up to squeeze at the other breast, rolling and stroking the rosy, hardened bud, relishing in the pretty noises it elicits.

you move lower, mouthing over her stomach, impatient as you hook your fingers under her waistband, tugging her sweatpants and underwear off in one. your breath comes out shaky against her thigh when you focus on her glistening cunt, the way she threads her fingers through your hair, silently begging you to give her what she needs.

you really want to drag it out, want to tease her, but you can’t. not when she’s under you like that, bare, aching, dripping with want.

your own desperation seeps through the way you pleasure her, feasting on her with everything you have from the jump. one hand is hooked around her thigh, holding her in place, the other roaming over her stomach and gripping at her waist.

she watches, subconsciously grinding up into you as you eat her out. you watch her, too, the way her face contorts and mouth falls open, dirty noises pulling from her throat. you’re gauging her, noting mentally the specific things that make her louder, make the taut muscles of her stomach tense under your fingertips.

and then your lips suction on her clit, tongue lapping at it gently as you do so, and she’s gone — cumming hard, hips rocking into your face and both hands gripping at your hair as she lets out a series of whines and broken moans of your name.

“abby…” you begin once she pulls you away, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to her sensitive pussy. you kiss once at it gently, relishing in how she bucks into your mouth before working down the insides of her thighs, worshipping her. “taste so fucking good.”

she moans at your words, and it takes everything not to pin her down and make her cum again. she doesn’t even give you chance though, maneuvering you upwards to meet her lips, making out with you so filthily you feel like you could damn well combust. she licks into your mouth, tasting herself on your tongue, only breaking away to tug the articles of your clothes off one by one.

you rut against her thigh once she’s undressed you fully, soaked cunt sliding easily against her skin. abby pants into your mouth, gripping at your hips, guiding your movements. this time feels different to the first, dirtier, more intimate; it’s all spit and sweat, and you love it.

“w-wait,” she murmurs, one hand moving to your thigh.

“what? you okay?” your voice is low and gentle, breathing ragged as you respond, swiping a rogue piece of hair out of her face.

her gaze flits over your face, taking in your wrecked image. your hair’s a mess, cheeks flushed, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. “yeah… just… i wanna…”

“wanna what?” you question softly after she trails off, corners of your mouth quirking as you run your thumb over her lower lip. she worries her teeth over it slightly after you let it go, shy to say the words she wants to.

“just… come here.”

your thumb continues its path, swiping over her cheek lightly. “i am here.”

she rolls her eyes fondly at your retort, tightening her grasp on your thigh and shifting you upwards. “i mean… come here.”

a sharp breath escapes you as she maneuvers you with ease, picking up what she’s putting down. you situate yourself over her face on shaky thighs, abby needily pulling you down onto her. 

she doesn’t do much, really, wanting you to wordlessly teach her how to use her mouth on you. she takes it all in, sliding her tongue through your folds and relishing in the way you get yourself off on her. the way her nose bumps against your clit each time you grind, one of your hands grasping at the headboard and the other at her hair. the way your desperate moans fill the air, whimpers of her name falling like a prayer.

you cum for her easily for the second time, previous stimulation from rubbing yourself on abby’s muscled thigh and arousal from getting her off having you halfway there already. she grips at your waist, your back, your thigh, anything to keep you on her mouth as you pant and twitch your way through it, sensitivity on high from your earlier orgasm.

and when you’re done, you sit back on her upper chest, gazing down at her as she drags her fingernails lightly over your outer thighs. her eyes are fluttered shut, lower half of her face covered in you.

you don’t think you’ve seen anything more beautiful.

despite it all, you like that it doesn’t actually change a lot of your dynamic — just adds onto it. you’re still close friends, still spend your time doing the same things. but now, it’s all laced with something new, something exciting.

you’ll still meet her in the library when she needs downtime, quietly sitting at the side of each other; abby reading whatever book she was on at the moment, you getting on with your project. only now, it more often than not ends up with her turning herself around, head on your chest while you absent-mindedly mess with her hair. it makes your life a lot harder attempting to work one-handed, papers and notebook resting on the arm of the sofa — all the while trying to ignore the scent of her hair, the warmth of her pressed up against you. how badly you want to say fuck it to what you’re meant to be doing and kiss her stupid.

you’ll still grab lunch with her and manny whenever it works out that you’re all at the stadium, and you’re not pressed for time. only now, instead of sitting opposite her, you’ll sit at the side of one another. specifically, so you can run your index finger against hers under the table, allowing your fingers to gently intertwine atop her leg.

and you’ll still talk about everything and nothing with her, laughing until there are tears in your eyes. only now, you don’t have to hold back from leaning in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and letting your hand linger. you don’t have to hold back from pressing a kiss to one cheek, then the other, then her nose, giggling at the way her face scrunches. you don’t have to hold back from fleetingly brushing your lips against hers, savoring the way she pulls you back in every time.

one day, abby’s out on assignment with manny when he seemingly out of nowhere comes out with, “you know you don’t have to hide things from me, right?”

she blinks twice, hard. she knows exactly what he’s getting at, but plays dumb regardless. “w-what do you mean?”

he pauses in response, smiling at her. “come on, abs.”

“no, i really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“come on.”

she sighs and rolls her eyes. if she was going to tell anyone, it would be manny. she knows he wouldn’t say anything, knows he just wants to see her happy after all that’s happened. still, she can’t will the words to come — just readjusts her gun, shuffling awkwardly as they both push forward.

“can’t believe you got there and i didn’t,” he says, and she can tell he’s just poking at her, wanting to get her to say something. she still can’t help but retaliate.

“i don’t really think you’re her type,” she states firmly, something about hearing someone else talk about you like that getting her a little riled up. and she hates that it does, because she knows he’s only doing it for a reaction.

manny chuckles, looking her up and down. “obvio.”

“asshole,” she mutters, knowing she’s given him everything he needs without explicitly saying it. there’s a quiet beat as they walk, manny breaking it, abby squirming inside at how he won’t leave it alone.

“owen that bad, huh?” he jests, “turned you—“

tutting, abby cuts him off. “nothing turned me anything. not really how it works.”

he laughs lightly, holding a hand up. “easy. you’re touchy today, huh?”

“you’re annoying today.”

manny dramatizes a pained expression, letting out a throaty, drawn out, ‘ah’. “forgive me for my curiosity.”

“curiosity’s fine, you’re just being a dick about it.”

“how do i not ‘be a dick’ about it?”

“i don’t know, manny, ask a genuine question instead of acting like an idiot,” abby states, slightly quirking an eyebrow as she looks sideways at him.

he pauses for a moment, pondering. “how long has it been going on for?”

“not long.”

“how did it happen?” “long story.”

“you know that i knew something was… ah, you know… when you came back sad, went off in the morning and then she was chasing me down so much to ask about you?”

abby blows air out of her nose, corners of her mouth quirking. she didn’t know about the last part; you hadn’t told her you’d been onto manny about her while she’d been gone.

“i heard you from across the room that night.”

“thin ice.”

he can’t help but poke at her further, regarding her with a glint in his eye as he quietly mocks sniffling, eyebrows furrowing desolately.

“the thinnest.” her voice is rigid but her facial expression betrays her, and she struggles to hold back a chuckle. manny breaks into laughter, nudging her on the shoulder. there’s another pause as their laughs die down, the only sounds being the wind, the pair’s heavy footsteps and the faraway caw of a bird.

once again, manny’s is the voice to fracture the silence. “so, what is it? just…” he clicks his tongue, alluding to the word ‘sex’, “or…”

“no,” she says, shaking her head. there’s no reason to dance around anything anymore. “no. i… i don’t know what it is. but it’s… it’s not just that.”

he draws in a breath. “right. so you… you like her?”

abby’s face twitches. ‘like’ is probably a substandard word for how she feels about you. she thinks about you all the time, misses you whenever you’re not there; she’s bombarded with reminders, because to her, everything laces back to you. when she’s outside of the stadium, supposed to be focusing on anything else, she’ll notice that something looks the exact same color as your eyes. or there’ll be a small occurrence she chuckles at, and knows the only other person that would find it funny is you, wishing you were there to nudge her and give her that smirk you always do. once, while you were still just friends, she saw a torn up poster clinging to a wall of a musician she knew you liked, debating ripping it off and bringing it back. she’d decided against it, not wanting you to think she was coming on too strong.

‘like’ is a meager word, but the other one terrifies her to think about.

[beenbaanbuun]

country boy w/ mingi

thinking thoughts about country boy mingi who talks to you in a southern drawl as he leans his upper body on the bonnet of his truck. he’s so shameless with the way he looks you up and down, and you really don’t mind at all. in fact, you almost wish you could swap places with that stupid toothpick he keeps dangling from his pretty lips.

“don’t you think you ought to be getting home, doll?” he croons at you as you push yourself up to sit on the hood. the way your thighs spread against the red metal makes him salivate, but he’s a strong man. he can control himself, “i don’t think your daddy is my biggest fan; he wouldn’t appreciate you hanging around someone like me after sunset.”

as much as you hate to admit it, mingi is right; something about the farm boy from the neighbouring ranch just didn’t sit right with your daddy. maybe it’s his cocky way of speaking, or the rumours that get passed around town by all the pretty buckle bunnies who had their turn with him. the cowboy had built quite a reputation for himself, over the years. he likes to fuck and chuck; he’d rarely beds the same girl twice, and never more than three times. those brief encounters seem to be enough for most of the women you come across in the local bars—they do nothing but rave about how nonchalant and uncaring the cowboy is in bed. apparently, the way he fucks them hard and rough makes him all the more attractive.

yet he was never anything but soft with you. soft smiles, soft words, soft touches. just soft. if only your daddy could see the way he grins at you as he pulls the hat from his head and settles it atop yours, or the way his lithe fingers tighten the string around your chin to secure the hat in place. the deep chuckle that leaves him as the brim falls over your eyes goes straight to your chest, your heart beating unhealthily quick.

“my daddy doesn’t control me,” you push the brim up so you can see his pretty face. his skin is gorgeously tan from all those hours he spends in the field with his boss’s horses. you often watch him from your window, sketchbook in hand as you messily draw him over and over. he doesn’t look quite as good in graphite as he does through the glass of your bedroom window. seeing him like this, so close that you could touch him, is even better, “and i’m not ready to go home yet. besides, didn’t you promise me a ride on mr campbell’s prize pony?

he smiles and it shines brighter than the sun that’s taking its time in sinking below the horizon. his laugh puts the sound of morning birds to shame. his skin is smoother than your daddy’s whiskey, and his eyes sharper than his switchblade. nothing compares to him, you figure as you gaze into his deep hazelnut eyes; you could watch him and never hunger for anything else. you’d be sustained for life.

“sure i did, doll,” he takes the toothpick out and flicks it to the ground. you watch as it lands in the dirt by his dusty leather boots before letting your eyes drag themselves back up his body to reach his eyes. every part of him is just as pretty as the next and you find that the more you stare, the more you want to have him, “but it’s getting to be dark soon, and like i said, your daddy doesn’t approve of me. i’m not quite good enough for his little princess, am i?”

“i think you’re good enough for me,” you blurt out, heat immediately rising to your face as you take in what you’ve just said. humiliating yourself in front of the man you’ve been dreaming about for years is never good, especially not when you see the man almost every day. you look to the floor, cursing yourself as you hear mingi hum in amusement. it’s not for long, though. he catches your chin on one long finger, drawing your eyes back up to his.

“i’m sure you do, doll,” his voice is teasing, as is his lopsided grin. it sends a shiver down your spine as he taunts you, “precious little thing, thinking i don’t see the way you stare at me from your window. i see the hearts in your eyes, y’know. the way they turn green whenever you see me with one of those towny girls. it's cute; you’re cute.”

a huge hand comes to rest on your exposed thigh. you freeze in place, eyes on his, heart in your mouth. then his other hand meets with your other thigh and without any resistance from you, he parts them just enough to shuffle his body between them. you swallow down the knot in your throat as he invades your personal space.

“part of me wants to agree with your daddy; you’re too good for me, doll. you deserve someone better,” his face is too close to yours. you’re holding your breath as if you might blow him away if you were to exhale. his own fans across your face, the scent of mint and menthol filling your senses. suddenly, it’s your favourite smell in the world, “but then again, i tend to be possessive over things i consider to be mine… and i don’t think i could bear it if i were to see my doll hanging off another man’s arm, hm?”

he whispers that last bit, the slow drawl of his accent echoing through your brain, turning your thoughts to mush. you’re sure he can see the effect he’s having on you; the shallow rise and fall of your chest, your swollen lip from where your teeth continuously tug against it, your glazed-over, thoughtless eyes. you’re also sure that it’s only serving to encourage him.

still, even if mingi currently has your legs in a gelatinous state and your heart ticking like a time bomb, your daddy didn’t raise a pushover. a princess, yes, but never a pushover. one of your (extremely shaky) hands finds its way to his chest, pushing at the linen-clad muscles ever-so-gently until he stumbles just a few inches back. despite your eyes not being able to find his face, you know you can do this.

“well, what about you?” your voice is feeble. you clear your throat in the hopes of making it stronger, “you think i like watching you flirt with other women? to hear all those nasty stories about what goes down in the bed of your truck?” the more you talk, the more your courage builds. you look him in the eye, only to see he’s still smirking. that beautiful, infuriating smirk, “you’re not the only possessive one, mingi. if i’m yours, you’re mine—”

the next few seconds happen in a flash, but you can pick out three key events. first, he bullies his way between your thighs again, pushing them wide and pulling you close until his pelvis is flush against yours. then, with a determined hand, he rips the hat away from your head, slamming it down onto the hood of his truck and making you jump. there’s almost no time between that and the final event, though, as before you can say a single thing more, a pair of determined lips find your own.

they’re hot as they trap you in a kiss, moving quickly and sloppily against your own. he’s quick to take charge, fingers pressing deep into the flesh of your thighs as he moves his lips against yours. it’s like he’s been waiting for this for years, and now that he’s finally got it, he’s not willing to let it go. desperate, and hard and fast, it makes your head spin in the most delicious way. so much so, in fact, that you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck to act as some sort of stability as you melt into his touch.

he pulls away for mere seconds, just enough for you to catch your breath, before diving in for more. this time, he leads with his tongue, bullying his way into your mouth as soon as his lips are on yours again. there’s no fight for dominance, the both of you already knowing that he’s the one in charge of this whole ordeal. you just let yourself sink into it, enjoying every second of him devouring your mouth.

all you can hear is moans mixed with the sound of lips smacking against lips. you can’t tell where your moans finish and his start, but perhaps it just goes to show how in sync the two of you really are.

he finally pulls away again, for good this time, and a heavy sigh falls from his lips, “i’ve always been yours, doll,” his wet lips meet your neck, and you tip your head back as a moan tumbles from your parted lips, “from the moment i met you, i was yours.”

“what about—”

“gossip spreads in a small town like this,” he cuts you off, “not everything you hear is true. you have a one-night stand to get over a girl once and suddenly you’ve slept your way through the whole town. honestly, i’m kind of glad the story focuses on how good i am in bed and not on the way i cried about you after i came…”

you can’t stifle the giggle that bubbles from your throat as he nuzzles against your neck.

“you cried about me?” you laugh.

“multiple times, doll,” he confirms, “what can i say, i’m a softie at heart.”

[borathae]

"You and he aren't supposed to fit so well together. You aren't supposed to work and yet somehow destiny seems to tie you to him tighter and tighter. Will you be able to cut the string of fate before the knot gets tight enough to suffocate or will you accept it and allow yourself to entangle with him?"

Pairing: Queen!Reader x Knight!Jimin

Genre: Forbidden Love!AU, Fantasy!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers!AU, Romance, Smut

Warnings: fluffy moments are sprinkled in between, but also angst :(, so much yearning, secret kisses & secret meetings, multiple smut scenes where one is more detailed while the others are implied-ish, she's fighting her feelings for him, he loves her so much, death, grief & guilt, the tension!!!, i'm clawing my skin off i fucking love yearning and forbidden love, consumption of alcohol, oral (m. & f.receiving), indications that she jerks off with his sword handle, strength kink, body worship, sex in nature, semi-public sex, the next warnings are for the detailed smut: sub!Jimin, Dom!Reader, sex in a broom cabinet, mutual stripping, desperate making out, handjob, he kneels as he gives her sloppy head, she pins him against a shelf, and rides him on the floor, he's sensitive and needy, fuck besties they need each other so bad, cumming too soon ehehe, this has a happy end!!!!!

Wordcount: 23.9k

a/n: i blame you guys for making me suffer. you fucking begged me for more knight!jimin and therefore gave me PAIN i am not oKAY OMFG them them them 😭 i don't think i'll ever shut up about them and their bond and the fact that they've known each other since childhood fndnafn have fun besties, this is so fndnfnasnf 🖤

~ To Prologue ~

His gasps are the loudest thing in this silent night. He tries not to make any sounds, but it is difficult when your touch drags pleasure to his skin.

“Mine. All mine”, your whispers are quieter than his gasps, swirling against his length before your warm mouth replaces them again. 

“Please”, Jimin begs, feeling his knees buckle as his senses begin to blur.

You ambushed him tonight. One of your queendom’s viscountess hosted a dance in her castle today and you visited it with your most trusted members of the council. Jimin escorted you as well. As your Queen’s Guard and nothing more. The dance was a two edged sword. You had incredible fun, the food was delicious and wine plenty but the knowledge that you couldn’t even steal as much as one dance with Jimin laid a sad blanket over the evening. And so you danced. You danced with everyone but Jimin, whilst having to resort to sneaking longing glances at the dark haired knight. Glances he retorted with just as much longing in his beautiful eyes.

You arrived back at your castle late into the night. Drunk on wine and good dance, but also burning up in yearning for your knight. And so you visited him in his chambers once your servants helped you get ready for bed and the castle was asleep. 

Jimin came out of his bathing chambers when you ambushed him. He wore nothing more than a drying cloth around his hips and pearl necklaces around his neck, while his black hair was pushed out of his face. You kissed him right where he stood, pushing him until he collided with his dresser and you could touch his every inch. 

“I need to have you”, you sighed against his lips. 

“I need to have you as well, my Queen”, he allowed you and while he believed the night to bring the taste of your cunt, you proceeded to worship every inch of his sculpted torso. With your fingers, your palms, your lips and tongue. You traced every outline, kissed every scar, licked the spots most sensitive and left marks where he arched his back the most. He will trace the marks once he is alone in his chambers and you weren’t with him.

And Jimin felt weakened in pleasure, barely keeping himself upright when you proceeded to fall to your knees, take off the drying cloth and worship his aching length. 

“You taste so heavenly, oh Jimin”, you moan as you abandon his length for the sake of worshiping his heavy balls. Your hand is busy jerking him. He is so wet already, pulsating in your hand. 

“Oh- it, it feels so good ah”, Jimin moans squeakily, scrunching his face, “my Queen...”

It hasn’t been long since you fell to your knees, but Jimin is already grasping the edge of the dresser for strength. He hasn’t experienced such untamed hunger from you before. Such gluttony for his length. It is difficult to handle for someone as sensitive as your beloved knight.

“Please, I will soil you please”, his voice is breathy in ruin, his eyes are glassy as they look down at you, “please, you have to slow down. Ah please.”

His begs have the opposite effect on you. Instead of giving him a break, you take him into your mouth until his groomed hair tickles your nose and he throbs in your tight throat. 

“No I-”, Jimin whimpers and throws his hand over his own mouth to muffle the loud moan escaping him as you force him to climax down your throat. He throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as pleasure courses through him. His knees buckle and make him stumble. If he wasn’t that strong, he would have crumbled to the floor. 

It isn’t often that you are the one on your knees. But tonight you were drunk, jolly from dance and starved for him. He didn’t wear his usual armour tonight. He dressed in leather attire adorned with your queendom’s symbols and wore a pale, silken shirt underneath. He topped it off with pearl jewellery and his sword and styled his hair in a noble way. Truly, every second spend with looking at him was agonising paradise and turned you into the hungry woman you were right now. 

You slip off his length as he whimpers for a break, finding your heaven by kissing his hard abdominal. It is sculpted from the strenuous training your Queen’s Guards have to do daily and ripples under your lips as he fights for air.

“This was incredible”, you moan, swirling your tongue over his lower abs. You are panting and gasping with him, looking up at him with love drunk eyes, “you are the sweetest thing I tasted tonight.”

Jimin swallows heavily, meeting your gaze. His heart swells. He grabs your face and pulls you to your feet, claiming your soiled lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue tangles with yours, feasting on his lingering taste like a starved animal. Seconds later, your feet leave the ground as he lifts you to carry you to bed. Even more seconds later, your dress is lifted up and his length is breaching you as he rocks his hips into you in a desperate rhythm. 

The only thing which keeps the castle from knowing what was happening, are the passionate kisses you share. Otherwise you would be way too loud. 

Jimin is part of your life. It began when thirteen full moons ago, you claimed his innocence and loved him passionately for a night. Since then, he began trickling into your life more and more. You invited him to your bedroom more and more under the guise of wanting his services, which most nights ended in his length deep inside you. You began sneaking to his bedroom more and more and at first, you always left after the fun ended, but then those nights where you stayed with him began. And after that, the nights where he stayed in your bed began. 

And while you should have stopped it then because it reached levels such a secret should have never reached, you didn’t stop. You kept going. And so you kept going until one night, Jimin stood by your door in nothing but his sleeping clothes and he asked to have you. He asked for the first time since you began this forbidden love affair. And while you should have send him away and ended it because it had become something too much, you dragged him into a kiss and allowed him to have you. And he stayed the night. 

That is when the secret became something which never should have happened. You continued to visit him and Jimin began visiting you more and more. You stayed the night, he stayed the night and then one faithful morning, you woke up with him still next to you. Until this point, you and he had always made sure to sneak away before the other – and most importantly, the castle – woke but not that morning. He stayed with you, meeting your gaze as you opened your eyes for the new day. And he gave you a smile, cupped your cheek and whispered that you are the most beautiful person on earth and then he kissed you. 

And you kissed him back eventhough you should have sent him away and ended it. You and he became a secret so forbidden and yet you didn’t send him away.

Jimin stays with you tonight. Your bodies were spent and your dress has found its new home on the floors. You are on your stomach, propped on your elbows and covered by the blanket as you look up at Jimin. He is returning from his small dining table with two jugs of water, climbing back under the warm sheets.

“Thank you”, you accept the water, drinking it gladly, “I felt truly parched”, you say, handing him the half empty jug. He discards it on his nightstand, placing his own jug next to it once he took a healthy sip.

“Yes, I felt the same”, he says and shimmies under the blanket. He rests on his side, propped up on one elbow and with his head supported by his hand. He places his hand on your lower back, rubbing circles on your skin, “it’s not often that you ambush me in such ways”, he says with a smile that reaches his eyes. His damp hair is terribly tousled, his soft cheeks flushed. He looks so beautiful after sex. You could look at him for hours.

“I feel no shame in what I did tonight. The dance was agony. All I wanted was to dance with you and you looked so dashing in your clothes that I almost made a whore of myself in the middle of the room.”

“Oh heavens”, he flusters, letting out little giggles as he throws his head back. He covers his mouth with his hands, speaking in a higher voice, “don’t say such things.”

“I am truthful”, you laugh.

“Oh, I’m aware that you are”, he says, leaning in for a gentle kiss to your temple. You lean into the kiss with closed eyes, feeling utterly calm in his presence, “you looked beautiful as well. I wanted to steal you away from all others.”

You giggle, “you talk the sweetest things.”

Jimin chuckles, nuzzling his face against yours to begin kissing you.

“Mhm and you talk the most indecent of things”, he coos, tickling your face gently as he nips on your cheek.

“Jimin, please”, you squeal and moments later, you are on your back while Jimin attacks your face with loving kisses and shares in your giggles.

There is this tree not far outside the capital’s walls. It wasn’t really alive, but it also wasn’t really dead. All its branches were bare, except for one which climbed high enough to reach the light. One has to walk a narrow path along the cliff side, find their way through a cave and climb natural stairs down until one reaches a small plateau in the high cliffs to find it. It is a secluded spot, only the sea and its birds are witness to what happens there. It is the middle of the day and Jimin is beneath you with his mouth latched onto your heat while you stroked his length. You left the castle for a walk and because Jimin was your most trusted guard, he escorted you to keep you safe. At least that is what you let the court believe. You held his hand the second you entered the cave and haven’t let go of it since then. Well, until you couldn’t take the yearning any longer and began kissing him with the sole purpose of connecting with him in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Oh this feels so good. Ah Jimin”, you moan, arching your back as his tongue laps at your heat eagerly. He growls against you, rolling his hips into your touch as he chases the pleasure you bring him.

It has been a few weeks ever since you last touched each other. The night after the dance was long ago and since then, you weren’t able to be with one another again. Your husband returned from his travels, bringing stories to tell, clothes to try on and foreign foods to taste. And so you had to pretend to be a wife most delighted to see him, while Jimin had to pretend to be nothing more than your guard. Your husband didn’t sleep in your bed, but he stayed in your chambers long into the night, telling you stories of his adventures or fulfilling his duties as your husband. He wasn’t terrible and knew not to touch until you allowed him, but he also wasn’t Jimin. That is all the knowledge one needs about this topic as you didn’t truly want to remember the nights with your husband. Yes you allowed him, but you only did so because you feared that if you didn’t at least pretend to want him, he would grow suspicious about how you could go so long without a touch and not be starved for it. And so you shared intimacy with him, finding your release only once you began thinking of Jimin.

Other than the nights of duties you had to share with your husband and having to push away Jimin, having your husband back at the castle wasn’t terrible.

You and he are good friends after all and you always shared wonderful conversations with each other. He also knew how to make you laugh and brought many books filled with stories about foreign cultures. You enjoyed learning about other cultures, so his presents were truly appreciated by you.

Once the sixth week passed, your husband left again, taking his favourite ship to sail east. He promises to return by spring and you told him to be safe and to come back bearing wonderful stories and books filled with knowledge. You kissed him goodbye and he told you that he would write to you the moment he had a quiet moment to himself and then you stood by the shore until his ship was but a small dot on the horizon.

Frigga, your advisor, was with you, as was a small group of the court, some guards and Jimin as your personal guard. You turned to him once your husband’s ship was gone.

“I want to take a walk to clear my heart of the agonies of seeing my beloved leave”, you lied and gave Jimin a look.

“Shall we come with you, my Queen?” Frigga asked.

“No, I want to be alone with my thoughts”, you told her and left the shore.

Jimin followed you and nobody in the court questioned it because he was your personal guard after all, meant to tail you like a shadow and keep you safe. It was truly the perfect disguise to keep the truth hidden. That you left so you and Jimin could finally catch up on six weeks of distance and that you couldn’t wait for the moment your husband’s ship disappeared on the horizon.

“Jimin! Now!” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue pushes you over the edge.

He moans into you, intoxicated by your high and charmed by your touch, he finds his own release in the palm of your hand.

Jimin wasn’t always part of the Queen’s Guard. Only a handful of knights will have the honour of serving you in their lifetime. Selected by you and with hard training keeping them strong, the Queen’s Guard is truly a small yet mighty group of knights. 

Jimin became leader of it seven full moons ago. Not only because he was a capable and strong warrior and he proofed himself worthy of such a position, but also because being your personal protector, and the leader of the Guards, meant that people would ask lesser questions about why he was always leaving your chambers or following you to secluded places. After all, you and he must be talking strategies in your chambers and he most definitely follows you to keep you safe. Truly the court was a credulous bunch.

You roll off of Jimin, lying down on the ground beside him. It happens naturally that Jimin stretches out his arm so your head wouldn’t touch the dirty ground. You rest on it comfortably, looking up at the high cliffs. A rock overhang hides the sky from your eyes. The harsh, salty air of the sea made it so that over thousands of years the black rock became dark grey in colour. 

“You truly feel like no other”, you say, “I feel breathless.”

“Yes, I feel breathless as well”, Jimin says as he rests beside you with closed eyes. 

You turn your head to study his features. It is as if every single inch was sculpted by magic. His proportions are perfect for his face. He is so beautiful. 

“I missed you, Jimin.”

“I missed you as well”, he says and turns his head. He looks into your eyes, smiling softly, “you look ruined.”

“Do I? I feel ruined”, you say and laugh.

Jimin laughs with you, reaching out to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I love when you look this way.”

You draw closer to him until your head rested on his upper arm and you could steal a kiss. 

“Mhm”, Jimin smiles into the kiss, stubbing your nose with his own.

“I feel so lucky that he will be gone till spring. Eight months, Jimin. We will be able to do so many wonderful things during this time.”

“I know. I’m excited.”

“Yes, me too.”

You fix your head so you could look at the rocks again. Jimin does the same, smiling to himself as you reach up to hold his hand.

You share a few moments of silence until suddenly you break it with chuckles.

“Why are you laughing?” Jimin asks.

“Oh, I was just thinking.” 

“Tell me.”

“I was just thinking that I can be lucky to have such skilled sorceresses in my castle. Imagine if they didn’t use their prevention magic on my belly. Oh Jimin, we would be producing children like rabbits.”

Jimin laughs, “you think of such crude things, my Queen.”

You giggle, “I know, oh I know. I’m terrible. I can’t help it. I always think of you and what we did.”

Jimin rolls to his side, pulling you into a gentle forehead kiss. 

“I think of you as well. Most of my days even.”

You giggle, seeking his closeness, “oh Jimin, you are wonderful.”

He rubs his hand up and down the back of your head.

“It saddens me that I can’t share my stories with Frigga.”

“It doesn’t sadden me. Don’t make me an indecent man in front of her”, Jimin jokes, making you laugh.

“Oh you”, you nudge his chest, “I wasn’t speaking of our intimacies. I just meant that I find it saddening that I cannot tell her how happy you make me”, you look up into his eyes, “and that I think of you every waking second.”

A sense of sadness washes over Jimin’s face as quickly as a wave crashes the shore. A smile replaces it.

“I know”, he whispers, tracing your brow with his fingertips, “it is already enough that you and I know”, his eyes fill with insecurities, “isn’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, of course it is enough”, you say and lean in for a kiss.

It has to be enough.

“The Queen Consort is dead! He is dead!”

It was a sunny day when the news reached the castle. You enjoyed the ray of warm light in your courtyard, playing card games with Frigga and your maids, when a messenger interrupted the peace.

“He is dead”, he wheezes with tears in his eyes, “the sea took him. Him and his crew! He’s dead!”

It was a sunny day when the funeral happened. There wasn’t much of him to say goodbye to. Only pieces of his ship and a small heap of books survived. They washed up on the shores and at first you didn’t want to believe that they belonged to his ship. Until your guards found two members of his crew. Their bodies were bloated from the waters and their eyes were already missing from their sockets. Animals must have gotten to them.

Their funeral was held two days after.

It is sunny. It is blinding your eyes. It hurts. You cried all night. And the night before. And all day when the news met you. It has been sunny since. You hate that it is. How dare the sun shines when life is so cruel.

It is custom in your Queendom to give a dead beloved a sea burial. The body was sent out on a wooden boat with food, drink and riches for a safe journey to the afterlife and then the best archer will light an arrow and sent it straight to the boat to set it aflame.

Your husband can’t have such a burial. An empty boat with useless riches and food is sent from shore. You are tasked with shooting the arrow. You light the resin soaked tip and draw the bow. You let go. The arrow flies fast and misses.

The people stay silent, but the humiliation is there in your heart next to the paralysing grief. Most of your queendom is standing by the shore and watches you. You feel useless now that you missed.

One of your servants hands you a new arrow wordlessly, avoiding your eyes. You light it, draw the bow and miss again.

The same servant hands you a third arrow. The boat is getting further and further away. You force down a sob and try again. It misses.

The first whisper sets off a choir of whispers. It isn’t your fault. The sun is too bright and your heart aches too much. You have no strength in your arms. Why are they whispering?

Another arrow is handed to you. You light it with shaking hands and try to draw. The string barely wants to budge. The boat is far away. The whispers grow.

“She won’t do it.”

“She’s not strong enough.”

They don’t know that you can hear them, but you can. You struggle with holding the string, but you have to draw more. It is so difficult to do.

“Her husband’s already died at sea without proper burial and now she can’t even send him off.”

You fight for air and lower the bow. The gasps are deafening in your ears. You can’t do it. You couldn’t love him right and now you can’t even send him off right. You are a failure of a wife.

You try again. You have to send him off properly. The string barely moves. A small sob escapes you. The whispers are so loud. You can’t do it and all they can do is whisper. Your head turns. You are going to pass out.

Strong arms lie themselves around you, an armoured chest presses into your back. You tense up, but feel yourself relax when Jimin’s face comes into your vision.

“Trust in me, I can help you”, he whispers as he helps you draw the bow.

The whispers are still in the back of your head, talking about how you cannot do it alone.

“Don’t listen to them. Concentrate on me. They don’t know what they’re saying”, he tells you and aims the bow, “once I stopped talking, we will let go together. Understood?”

You nod your head.

“Okay. Let go.”

The arrow flies fast and it flies straight, connecting with the boat far, far in the distance. It lights up within seconds, painting a bright orange spot on the blue ocean canvas.

The music starts and people behind you begin cheering. It is custom to send off the dead with song and cheer. But you can’t cheer. You are humiliated and at the end of your strength. You turn, falling into Jimin’s arms as you sob uncontrollably. Only a handful of people look at you, while the rest was busy celebrating your husband’s safe journey to the other life.

“I do not wish to be here. Please take me away”, you beg Jimin.

“Of course. Come, hide in me”, Jimin tells you and leads you away from the festivities. Some people try to fetch a touch, but he pushes them away skilfully, sending each a deathly glare.

You can still hear the festivities from your castle. The building is empty as everyone is by the shore wishing your husband and his crew a safe journey. You wanted silence and yet the music and cheers still meet your ears.

Jimin manages to lead you as far as the dining halls and then strength forsakes you.

“I can’t do this”, you wail, falling to your knees.

“Oh”, Jimin gasps and stumbles as the sudden drag surprised him. He catches himself quickly, helping you back to your feet. Together, you and he manage to stumble to a bench, “sit down here. Sit down”, he tells you, helping you with it.

You sink into yourself once you are seated, burying your face in the clammy palms of your hands. Jimin squats down before you, trying to calm you down by rubbing your arms.

“I can’t do this anymore”, you cry.

“Oh my treasure”, Jimin gets out with comradery tears in his eyes, “I’m here. I’m right here”, he promises and pulls you into a hug. He kisses the side of your head, swaying you from side to side gently, “I’m here.”

You and he will hug by this bench until the first voices of people returning meet your ears. And you won’t be able to tell anyone, but you were so incredibly happy to have Jimin by your side.

It shouldn’t have to be mentioned that the weeks after your husband’s early death were filled with grief. You didn’t spend a lot of time doing things a Queen should do. Your once colourful clothing caught dust in your dressers as only the blackest of garments cover your body. Your jewellery stayed untouched and if it wasn’t for your servants, you wouldn’t even have bothered to do your hair. Jimin brings food to you each night. Sometimes Frigga is faster than him and they meet in your chambers with slight awkward surprise between them. Thankfully nobody questions why he spends time with you each night. The court thinks that Jimin is solely doing his duty as your guard and he does. Of course does, but more than anything he attempts to be there for you as your lover, offering you arms to fall into when you needed it and a shoulder to cry on when the tears didn’t want to stop.

“My Queen?”

He brings dinner tonight as well. Your chambers are empty and the scent of vanilla oil fills the room. He knows the origins of this scent like a lover knows the scent of his beloved’s skin. You are bathing.

Jimin places the tray of food on your dining table and takes the path to your bathing chambers. 

You have your back turned to him as you look outside at the sea. The full moon reflects in the unruly waves. A storm is brewing. The kind of storm which took your husband. Jimin knows by just looking at your hunched posture that this is what you are thinking.

“My Queen?”

You turn your head upon hearing Jimin’s voice, meeting his gaze with exhausted eyes. You hum as acknowledgement but otherwise stay quiet.

“Why are the windows open? Aren’t you cold?” Jimin asks, hurrying to the open windows. He closes them, locking out the cold winds. He turns back to you. You are looking at him with tired eyes and your chin resting on your knee. 

“Do you want to leave the water?”

You nod your head.

“I shall call the servants.”

“No. Stay. Don’t call them.”

Jimin watches you stand up and point at the drying cloth. He hurries to it and picks it up instantly, carrying it to you. He holds your hand as he helps you out of the stone tub and wraps you up in the cloth. You lean into him, resting your head back against him as he rubs his hands along your body to dry you. 

“A storm is brewing on the horizon”, you whisper.

“I know. It will be a cold night, but we are inside where it is warm.”

“Do you think that Mino was cold before he died?”

Jimin falters in his touch, looking at the side of your face. You never called your husband by his name before. At least not in front of him.

“I cannot say”, Jimin says quietly. 

“To imagine that he died wet and cold. Storms are so scary. Oh, he must have been so frightened.”

“I am sure that he thought of you, which made it easier to bear.”

“Don’t say that”, you gasp and tear up, “why would you say such a thing?”

“I didn’t think that it would hurt you. Forgive me, oh please don’t cry.”

“I was such a terrible wife to him. He thought of me as he died while I laid in your arms and wasted not a second with thinking of him.”

Jimin would be lying if he said that your words didn’t leave an ache in his heart. He swallows it down and wraps his arm around you.

“Perhaps he didn’t think of you. I just merely said such words because this is what I would do.” 

“Oh”, you let out, spilling tears, “oh what have I done?” 

“Come. Let us get you in some clothes. Come”, Jimin says and leads you outside the bathing chambers and also hopefully away from your emotions. 

He sits you down by your dressing table and hurries to your drawers to get a warm sleeping gown. 

“Jimin, do you believe me to be a terrible person?” you ask him with emotion in your voice, but thankfully no sobs.

“No, my Queen. I believe you to be the most precious person on this planet.”

“If you didn’t love me, would you still think this way?”

“Yes. But I love you and I do not want to imagine a world where I don’t”, he says and hurries back to you, “now, stand up and allow me to dress you.”

You allow him. You stand up and raise your arms so he could slip the sleeping gown on. Then you turn and allow him to tie it in the back. Jimin gives your shoulders a gentle massage once you are dressed, pushing you down carefully until you fall onto the chair. He leans down and places kisses from your dressed shoulder up to your neck. 

He looks at you in the mirror, expecting you to have your eyes closed as you always have when he kisses your neck but instead you are looking at him with sad eyes. 

“I’m frightened”, you confess. 

Jimin furrows his brows in worry. 

“I should be relieved that I am not betraying my husband behind his back anymore, but I am not. I grieve for him deeply and I am frightened.”

“Frightened of what?”

“I do not wish to marry into royalty again. I want to marry you.”

Jimin smiles.

“And yet I am frightened that I will have to. My queendom is so small compared to others. What if people want to attack us now that we lost such a strong ally?”

“Who would want to attack us? We are a peaceful queendom.”

“We are, but the Queens of Stormveil aren’t, neither are the Naritauri. Danger lies beyond the sea and I am frightened.”

“Please don’t be. Those are futures which won’t happen”, Jimin assures you and wraps his arms around you. His cheek is resting against yours, he is swaying your bodies slowly, “for tonight the future you should think about is dinner and how I will rub your back until you fall asleep.”

He expects a smile but receives a sad frown. 

“What’s the matter? Do you not want me to?” 

“I have to send you away tonight”, you press out. 

Jimin feels weird in his stomach. This isn’t going to end well. This is going to hurt him. 

He keeps holding you in an attempt to drag out the inevitable.

“I am sure that none of your maids will come here tonight”, he acts oblivious in hopes of steering the conversation into another direction.

“No. No, I have to send you away. I cannot do this right now.”

“Do you want me to stop hugging you?”

“No, of course I don’t, but I have to send you away. I need time.”

Jimin falters. He shakes his head.

“Please, Jimin”, you whisper, placing your hands on his lower arms, “find it in yourself to understand me. I have too much going on, I cannot drag you along for it.”

“I’m your guard. There is no situation more suited for me than what you are currently experiencing. It is my duty to protect you from harm”, he slides his hand to where your heart races, “especially harm on the heart”, he whispers.

“Jimin please”, you beg, “I cannot do this right now. I need time.” 

Jimin blinks his tears away.

“Time for what?” he asks quietly.

“Time to think and to come up with what I should do and how I should handle the dangers of being such a small, unmarried country with such dangerous neighbours.”

“You can do those things with me by your side.”

“Yes, indeed I can. As my guard.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You can think about these things with me as your lover as well.” 

“I’m sorry. I need time. Everything feels like too much.”

“I don’t want to leave tonight.”

“Neither do I want you to, Jimin!” you say loudly, standing up and therefore breaking the hug. You turn, placing your hands on his chest, “I have to do all this thinking so I do not have to send you away anymore. Do you not understand? I am widowed, Queen of a weak country and I cannot be caught with my guard sleeping in my bed. If people caught you, rumours would start. Rumours that you were compliant in my husband’s death so you could seduce me.”

You shake him by his collar, squeezing out tears.

“And I would have to choose between executing you to make an example or running away from here and making us a target for every possible assassin on the continent.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“You speak of impossible futures. Such things would never happen.” 

“I cannot risk it, Jimin. I just simply cannot. Please give me time. Please, I will fix this. Please, I simply need time.”

Jimin takes a deep breath. He will do something that he will hopefully not regret.

“Very well”, he gives in, “I will give you time. I will fulfil my duties as your guard and give you time.”

“Thank you so much”, you say, cupping his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. This is the last thing you should be doing right now, but you can’t help yourself. You need him like you need air.

Jimin deepens the kiss with his hand on your lower back and his other cupping your cheek. He doesn’t want to stop, to let go, to end this. Once that kiss ends, you will send him away and he will return to being nothing more than your guard. You speak of temporary distance. Jimin sees that you need it as your mind produces futures most impossible and you clearly need the time to rid your mind of them. But he is scared that this isn’t temporary. That perhaps your heart won’t change, but fate will. That life will be cruel enough to force it to change. 

You break the kiss.

“Not yet please”, Jimin begs, chasing you. 

“Jimin, please”, you beg, fleeing him, “please make it easier for me.”

“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me. You shouldn’t have given me a glimpse of you.”

“Please…I….please.”

“Just one more kiss. Please.”

“And then you will beg for one more and then we will end up in bed and I couldn’t possibly send you away.”

“And what would be so terrible about this? A storm is coming. The night will be cold. Allow me to keep you warm”, he caresses your cheek, “___.”

You let out a small whimper, twisting the hair at the back of his head.

“I curse you”, you get out and pull him back into a kiss. 

Jimin doesn’t leave your chambers tonight. But he leaves them tomorrow with the same promise between you and him which he gave you last night. He will give you time.

He shouldn’t have given you time. 

Jimin finally knows why he never should have made such a promise. 

Fate proved him right and now he has to pay the consequences. Your queendom was attacked. But not in the way one might expect, but in a way far worse anyone could have ever imagined. It was attacked by a flood of suitors begging for your hand in marriage. It has been weeks and the proposals won’t stop. He has to stand by your side and has listen to the disgusting yapping of boring men while you pretended to be somewhat interested in what they had to say. 

Perhaps the weeks would have been easier to bear if you gave him a feeling as if you and he weren’t over. But you didn’t. You didn’t call for him at night, didn’t visit him in his chambers, stopped visiting the secret spots you and he so often had found yourselves in to kiss and hug. You even stopped looking at him from the other side of the room or going on walks just so he could follow. 

You acted as if he was just another one of your guards and it ripped him apart. He aches for you and yet you seem so indifferent about him. Jimin already began wondering if you ever really loved him as he loved you. 

Today, the fates were especially cruel to him. 

One of your suitors invited you to a hunting party and because Jimin was your most trusted guard, he had to come along, trailing behind you as this boring, ugly man spit his attempts at seducing you. Jimin could speak to his fellow knights or listen to some of the other noble people coming along for the hunt, but he didn’t want to listen. Not when he had to watch you get seduced by someone as ugly as Lord Frail. It should be a crime that someone like him even looks at you. 

The hunt takes your party of ten noble people, a handful of servants and ten guards deep into your queendom’s forests. Tough conifer trees filled the forests and sharp thorns covered the parts which weren’t paths. Dark green ferns broke up the thick thorn carpets and the scent of the ocean followed you.

“The weather’s good for a hunt. Wouldn’t you say, Sire?”

Jimin turns his head to the right as someone clearly addressed him. One of his fellow Queen’s Guards. He joined them a year ago and looked up to Jimin a lot.

“I guess”, Jimin murmurs, looking back at you and the boring Lord Frail.

“The winds are in our favour. I am sure we’ll be successful.”

“I am sure we will.”

“Have you been on many hunting trips before, Sire?”

“Yes, the late Queen, ___’s mother, took me on trips the moment I began serving as her knight.”

“Huh. I sometimes forget that you and the Queen shared adolescence with each other. I would never dare to call her by her name, but it must be common to you.”

Jimin tenses his jaw for a moment. It stopped being common when you and he both passed your second decade on this earth. Before then, you and he always addressed each other with the other’s name. You played together, danced together, ate at the same table and called each other like two childhood friends. But as age changed you and him, your different ranks became so painfully obvious to both of you. You grew up to be the Princess and future Queen of Windfell, while Jimin stayed a common knight. But even as your name stopped being a common thing for Jimin, you and he never grew apart. Age just tied you tighter together until your husband died and you asked for time. The cliff between you and him had never been that big before and Jimin is aching.

“Yes”, he presses out with a heavy heart, “yes, it was common once.”

“I see. You seem to care a lot for her, Sire.”

Jimin sneaks a glance at the knight.

“As someone, who watched her grow up to be the Queen she is these days, can care about her. Yes.”

“This is good, Sire”, the knight says and takes a deep breath, “the winds are on our sides, I can smell it.”

Jimin relaxes his shoulders now that the conversation shifted back to something less nerve wrecking. One wrong word and he could destroy what you and he built. He glances at you. That is, if fate hadn’t already destroyed it.

The hunting party reaches a clearing, gathering in a small circle so you could converse. Jimin places himself next to you, scanning his eyes over your surroundings.

“We shall go in five groups so we can cover more ground”, you order, “I shall take Lord Frail and we shall meet back here once the sun moved past this mountain.”

The hunting party looks at the high mountain in the distance. The sun will take some time to pass the mountain peak.

“Understood.”

“Very well, take two guards each and be careful not to get hurt. We have seen enough death this year”, you say and turn your horse, looking into Jimin’s eyes, “I want you to come with me.”

“My Queen”, he says, nodding his head. He waves his hand so the knight, who talked to him, follows as well and then your small group is already off.

The hunt turns out to be less painful as Jimin imagined it to be. And it was Lord Frail’s fault. Your small group had put some distance between the party and the group when he broke the silence.

“You spoke of death this year. Have you lost someone, your highness?”

Jimin almost cursed at the stupid man, but stayed silent, looking at your face instead. Shock, anger, disbelief. It all washed over your features upon being asked such a tactless question.

“Did you truly just ask me that?” you press out angrily, “I lost my husband but two months ago.”

“Oh yes! Oh how stupid of me! That is why I am here!” Lord Frail laughs, “please forgive me, I am quite forgetful in my old age.”

“Yes, you seem to be”, you say and turn your head away from him. It was clear to Jimin that you were furious.

“The weather seems to be on our side today, wouldn’t you agree?” Lord Frail continued the conversation as if nothing happened.

“Yes, indeed it is”, you answered each of his questions coldly.

“It is already long into the year, but the autumn takes its time this year. I am quite pleased with it. My old joints do not agree with the cold.”

“That is awful.”

“Yes, yes indeed it is. However, colder weather also means more frequent baths. I do not believe in bathing for cleanliness, but I enjoy warming my old bones in a bath once the weather is cold.”

“I couldn’t even tell that you do not believe in baths, my Lord.”

Jimin has to bite down on his tongue in order not to laugh. The sarcasm drips from your voice.

“Of course, of course”, Lord Frail runs his eyes up and down your body, “do you enjoy baths, Your Highness?” he asks and the implications are obvious in his voice.

Jimin almost drew his sword on him, sending him a deathly glare over your shoulder.

“Yes I do.”

Jimin looks at you in surprise. Why would you say that?

“I prefer to take them alone.”

Jimin relaxes again.

“Oh, ohuohuo”, Lord Frail laughs, “you are a jester, Your Highness.”

“Hahaha”, you practically pronounce your laughter, “I am indeed. A fucking jester.”

“Forgive me?” Lord Frail gasps.

You look away, studying the trees, “nothing”, you murmur and roll your shoulders, “we should split up. I believe that I heard a hog along this path. You should check it out, Lord Frail. I will take this path down along this stream.”

“But shouldn’t we-”

You do not give him time to finish his sentence and then you have already turned your horse and nudged it into a full sprint.

“Hya! Hya!” you encourage it.

Jimin follows you close by, keeping a careful watch on you because a sense of recklessness surrounds you.

“Slow down!” he calls out, “there is a slippery bridge coming!”

He knows that it is slippery because the ground never dries in these forests and nature has grown over the stone bridge and made it slippery. You and he took this path countless times before. Up until now these forests witnessed nothing but good memories between you and him. 

“My Queen, slow down!” he tells you.

You are too fast, speeding up on the last meters.

“___ no!” Jimin screams and watches with horror as you leap over the small stream. He tugs his horse into a stop, gasping for air as he tries to recover from the shock.

You slow the horse down on the other side, turning it skilfully. Your face is glowing from your skin catching the fog, the creases between your brows disappeared.

“Did you see that?” you call out to him, smiling, “I managed this so easily.”

“Yes and almost killed me from fright in the process”, Jimin says, trotting over the bridge.

You laugh, “nothing happened. You worry too much.”

“Worrying is my duty, of course I do”, he says, joining your side.

You snicker. You and he have a comfortable tempo with your horses, swaying from side to side naturally. You take a deep breath, lifting your head.

“I haven’t ran like this in ages. It felt good to do.”

“I worried that you might hurt yourself.”

“Wasn’t I the one to teach you how to ride?” you ask in a chuckle, “you should trust in me more.”

“Of course you taught me, but I also remember the countless times where you ran recklessly and fell.”

“Indeed and yet I never hurt myself.”

“I remember differently. You cried each time you fell.”

“This is a lie and you know that”, you say, reaching over to slap his arm gently.

Jimin laughs with you, reaching over to slap your arm right back.

“I don’t lie.”

You nudge him again, “yes, you do. You liar.”

You and he laugh together and in this moment it felt as if you were fourteen of age again, laughing in the forests after an afternoon of mischief. You and he exchange a look. It was clear to each of you that you thought the same. Growing up is cruel when it meant that two friends of mutual respect have to act as if one was more important in society than the other.

You break the eye contact first, taking a deep breath. Jimin twists the reigns, swallowing down the heavy lump in his throat.

“I cannot stand Lord Frail”, you confess.

“I could tell. You cursed.”

“You heard that?” you laugh, throwing your head back.

It has been too long since Jimin last saw you laugh so honestly. It fills his heart with happiness and so he finds himself laughing with you.

“Oh, I couldn’t help myself. He angered me so much”, you are still laughing as you speak, shaking your head in disbelief, “I mean, who in their right mind forgets something as detrimental as my husband’s death? That is the very reason why I agreed to this charade in the first place.”

“As you said, he’s not right in the mind. He doesn’t believe in baths.”

“Yes, one couldn’t smell this at all.”

You and Jimin laugh and it felt so good to do. Life was correct right now. Life wasn’t cruel because you and he could laugh together.

“Oh, how wonderful”, you end the laugh with a soft swipe under your eyes as if to dry your tears.

“You know”, Jimin begins.

“Mhm?” you hum, granting him a warm look.

“Jinus made me think of us and how long we have known each other already. How long has it been? Fifteen years?”

“Seventeen.”

“Seventeen?”

You nod your head, “we were eleven when I found you on the streets of your village. Remember? You were covered in ash and threatened to beat me with a stick.”

Jimin laughs, “I did! Oh, I forgot.”

You laugh with him, “but you changed your mind once I brought you food. Remember?”

“Of course I remember. I was starving and scared. I wouldn’t have been able to beat you.”

“Oh, I was aware. You looked weak.”

You and Jimin laugh. The forest paths fill with sunlight and the sweet scent of resin. Neither he nor you had noticed until now, how much sunlight fell down on the earth today.

“But we helped you grow strong, didn’t we?”

“Yes, you really did. I found my home with you.”

“Oh”, you let out, exchanging a sheepish look with him.

“Forgive me”, he whispers.

“Don’t worry”, you assure him quietly.

The sunlight dies down again. The scent of resin gets less.

You slow down your horses as the path melts into a small clearing. You jump off the horse. Jimin does the same. You and he choose two small trees to secure your horses on. Equipped with your bow and his sword, you leave the path to wander through the denser forest instead. He is by your side because right now, it is just the two of you and there is no societal rule keeping you apart.

“I apologise for what I said”, Jimin says.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him, giving him a warm yet yearning look, “I feel glad that you found a home here. Life wouldn’t be the same without you”, you tell him and it is the first time in weeks where you show him that you cared for him. Jimin swallows down his overwhelming emotions to instead give you a smile.

When you retort it, he takes a step closer to you, brushing his finger against your hand. When you don’t pull away, he reaches for you truly and intertwines his fingers with you. You give him a squeeze instinctively.

“Fuck”, you whisper, looking away, “you have to stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Reminding me what I feel for you”, you say.

“I won’t ever stop doing this”, he says, eliciting a small laugh from you.

You shake your head, looking at him with fond eyes.

“You are too stubborn.”

“I know”, Jimin says and tugs you closer. You let him, falling into him while he places his hands on your waist. You and he stop in your tracks. Ferns surround you. The sunlight breaks through the trees and illuminates his features beautifully.

You want to kiss him. You want to cup his cheeks and trace his features. You want to call him yours and love him openly.

Seventeen years. There is no constant in your life which has been with you for as long as Jimin has. There is no person in this world who knows you as well as Jimin does. In front of everyone else you have to pretend, to act a certain way, to hide parts of yourself. But not in front of Jimin. There is no person who makes you feel more like yourself than he. 

And there is no person you want to be with more than him. 

He moves in, nudging your cheek with his nose to test the waters. You close your eyes because you couldn’t bear to look at him. 

“Jimin please”, you whisper, exhaling deeply as you move your head away slightly. You look at him even if it is difficult.

“It’s been weeks.”

“We had to go longer than this in the past.”

“But this is different.”

“Jimin, why can’t you-”

A blood curling scream interrupts you before the situation could escalate into a fight. You and Jimin look at where it came from.

“Did you hear this as well?”

“I did.”

“Help! Help!”

You and he exchange a look and spring into a sprint. The fight lies forgotten for now.

You reach your horses quickly, working skilfully to mount them and gallop off. You and Jimin ran together and rode horses next to each other ever since you were children. You taught him how to ride a horse and he taught you how to climb a tree. You didn’t even need words to find perfect synchronisation in your jumps and gallops because acting like a team has been a part of you ever since you were children.

The owner of the screams turns out to be Lord Frail. Covered in muddy water from the stream and without a horse or guard in sight.

“Lord Frail, what happened?” you gasp, slowing down your horse carefully.

“The foolish horse slipped on this bridge and threw me off! It ran off without me!”

You and Jimin exchange a look. What a fool.

“How terrible. Did you hurt yourself, Lord Frail?” you ask without honesty in your voice.

“Of course I did! Look!” he shows off the small graze on his elbow.

Jimin snorts, hiding his laughter behind his hand. You send him a warning look, fighting the toughest battle in trying not to laugh as well.

“How terrible. Where is your guard?”

“I sent him off to get the cursed animal. Horse stew should be made with it! Foolish horse.”

“I am sure that it merely startled”, you tell him and send Jimin a look. He retorts it. He thinks the same. Of course someone like Lord Frail would blame the horse and not his own inability to ride.

Lord Frail stomps his foot.

“So what now? Should I walk?”

You take a deep breath in order not to curse at him.

“Of course not”, you say with a faked smile, “Jimin, give Lord Frail your horse.”

Jimin tenses his jaw, “yes, my Queen”, he says and gets off. He leads his horse to the clumsy man and presses the reins into his hands roughly. The man seems confused at the dark look he receives from the knight, but doesn’t say anything. 

He merely points at the ground.

“You know what to do.”

Jimin considers drawing his sword and slicing this idiot’s belly open. But he doesn’t, instead he gets on all fours so the clumsy sack can climb on his horse. He presses into Jimin’s back painfully, forcing him to growl angrily. It goes unnoticed by the man as he is too busy yapping about how much taller this horse is and that it was too good for a knight.

Jimin stands back up, cleaning off the dirt from his clothes aggressively while his eyes murdered the man. 

“Now where to next?” Lord Frail asks, sitting proudly on the horse which you gave Jimin after he became a knight.

“The castle. I grew rather cold”, you say dryly, studying Jimin with guilty eyes.

“Cold you say? That is a bother. Let’s go then”, Lord Frail says and looks at Jimin, “I assume he walks. Oh, ohuohuo how tragic”, he says and rides off with snickers leaving him.

Jimin feels hot in anger. Perhaps if he threw his sword just right, he could knock this twat off his horse without killing him.

The sound of hooves beside him rips him back to reality. He turns and lifts his head. You are shielding the sun from him, standing right beside him and looking down from your horse.

“I understand. I’m walking”, he hisses and sets off. 

He gets as far as three steps and then he realises that you are riding next to him. He stops again, looking up at you.

You scoot to the front of your saddle. 

“I do not want you to walk.”

Softness washes over his features.

“Come up here”, you tell him, nodding your head behind you.

“Very well.”

Jimin gets on your horse without hesitation. The saddle is built in a way so that you and he could share it with some discomfort. It results in his middle to press against your behind. You rub against each other with every step the horse takes. You try to ignore how it makes you feel, while Jimin tries not to close his eyes.

“Is this comfortable for you?” you ask.

“Yes”, Jimin places his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands run up and down your corseted waist. His warmth seeps deep into your skin, “it’s comfortable”, he speaks softly and steals a kiss to your neck.

Lord Frail is enough steps ahead of you that he doesn’t notice it.

Your heart is beating unbearably. Jimin is so close to you, touching you and sharing warmth. His neck kiss still lingers on your skin, even now that he is resting his chin on your shoulder again. You brought yourself into this situation, but it is still almost impossible to bear. 

“What if he sees us?” you whisper.

“I truly wish that you wouldn’t consider this twat as a husband”, Jimin ignores your warnings, staring holes into Lord Frail’s head. 

“I’m not. It wasn’t mannerly of him to use you as a stool. I apologise. He is indeed a twat.” 

“Mhm, one that stinks as well. I will have to buy a new saddle and burn the other.”

He makes you laugh. Loudly. Lord Frail looks over his shoulder. Jimin was thankfully quick enough to change his position so he wasn’t resting his chin on your shoulder and his arms around you. His hands rest on your hips now, hidden from view in your coat. The touch is heavy on your skin, seeping into your deepest fibres. 

“That is a peculiar view. I thought he would walk.”

“It is quite far to the castle. I take great care of my knights.”

“I can see that. He’s an ill-mannered lad. He sent me dirty looks.”

“That is merely how he looks when he is on duty.”

Lord Frail looks at Jimin and his darkened eyes. He looks away again, fixing his collar. 

“I see. Well, I don’t like it.”

“If you know yourself to behave, you mustn’t worry.” 

“I am a very mannerly fella.”

“I doubt that, Lord Frail”, you say, masking the poison with a laugh, “after all, you used my knight as a stepping stool.”

“Oh well, yes”, Lord Frail laughs because he thought the situation to be a laughing matter, “he is sturdier than I thought.”

“You misunderstand me, Lord Frail. I wasn’t jesting. You do not use my knights as stepping stools.”

Lord Frail stops laughing. He looks at you with widened eyes. The smile from your face was gone. You weren’t jesting. 

“My apologies, Your Highness”, he presses out even if it clearly hurts his pride. 

“I am not the one to apologise to.”

Lord Frail looks at Jimin. The dark haired knight is carrying triumph on his features. 

“His name is Jimin. Say it with respect”, you say coldly.

Lord Frail flares his nostrils and opens his mouth.

“My apologies, Sir Jimin”, he mumbles, frowning in distaste afterwards.

“Very well”, you say and click your tongue, telling your horse to speed up with a gentle nudge of your feet. 

The horse listens well, galloping off so you could put some distance between you and the ill-mannered lord. He should know that he wasted his chance. 

Galloping on a horse with Jimin behind you is difficult. Not only because sharing a saddle minimises the support you have, but also because he is rubbing against you. The thick, sturdy leather of his pants against your own thick leather thankfully masks some of the sensation, but it was there nonetheless. 

You slow down soon, passing the convoy in a slow trot. You ignore the curious looks people send you, calling out orders instead.

“If one may see a horse without a rider, return it to Lord Frail. The fool lost it!”

“Yes, Your Highness”, they answer you and pretend that seeing your knight ride behind you without any distance between you and him was a normal sight to see. 

“We will ride straight back to the castle. Is Jinus back already?”

“Yes, my Queen he is back with the others.”

“Very well.”

There were two reasons for why you decided to ride to the front. You were the Queen and you needed Lord Frail to know that he lost his spot by your side. And being in the front meant that Jimin couldn’t touch you again. He has been running his hands up and down your hips and thighs ever since you put Lord Frail into his place and it is getting very difficult to concentrate. Thankfully, your riding coat covers his hands from creeping eyes, but you knew that they were there and it is making your thoughts blur. 

“I will assume that your sword needs fixing”, you tell him quietly enough that hopefully only he can hear.

“Mhm yes, my sword needs polishing”, Jimin answers you, sending heat to your face. 

You hide the giggle wanting to escape by covering your mouth, lowering your head for just a second. Jimin squeezes your softness under the coat, chuckling deeply. Even through the thick layer of leather you could feel the strength behind his touch. 

You straighten up, “Jimin, I am serious. Please fix your sword.”

“It is hard to fix when it’s in my pants.”

“Lower your voice”, you hiss. 

“It is hard to fix when it is in my pants”, Jimin whispers, letting the words swirl against your neck.

“I am not jesting.”

“Neither am I.”

You swallow heavily. His touch is unbearable to handle. 

“My Queen”, thankfully – or perhaps sadly – Frigga catches up to your side. Jimin slides his hands from your coat, placing them on your waist instead. He needs to hold on somewhere and this was the most logical place. It isn’t easier to bear. 

“Yes, Frigga?” you ask her, hoping that your breathlessness goes unnoticed. 

“What shall I tell the cooks to prepare tonight now that the hunt bared no fruit?”

“Whatever they find on the markets. I am certain there are lovely fish to buy.”

“Understood. Is Lord Frail staying for dinner?”

“No. No, as a matter of fact I wish to eat dinner in my chambers. I have had enough of dutiful chattering.” 

“I understand”, Frigga looks at Jimin with a sense of knowing in her eyes, “will Jimin bring you dinner?”

The knowing grows. You feel yourself panic. Jimin’s presence behind you feels burdensome. 

“Why would you ask such a thing?” you gasp. 

“Because he always brings you dinner. My Queen, what did you believe that I was saying?” 

“Nothing. I, uhm, nothing. It doesn’t matter”, you stutter. 

Frigga studies you and Jimin together. 

“I understand”, she says and slows down her horse to put some distance between you and her.

The rest of the ride back was silent until Lord Frail gallops to the front clumsily.

“Your Highness, I must ask for clarification. Am I staying for dinner?”

“No, you are not.”

“Is it because I used your knight as a stepping stool?”

“It is because you are ill-mannered and quite frankly, you reek.”

Jimin laughs quietly behind you, squeezing your waist. You could swear that he rolled his hips against you. You bite down on your tongue to distract yourself.

“Oh that is”, Lord Frail searches for words. In the end, he decides on scrunching his nose in distaste and leaving with a mumbled, “manner less wench.”

“What did you just call her?” Jimin hisses, trying to draw his sword.

“Let him be”, you say, “he’s just a lord. His house consists of him and his servants.”

Jimin sends Lord Frail one last dark look and then he won’t ever see him again.

The ride home continues to be silent from then on and Lord Frail will leave the castle without receiving another word from you.

The horse Lord Frail borrowed from your castle waits by the stables once you return. You greet it with pets behind its ears and apologies for having to carry someone as smelly as Lord Frail. The horse seems to care rather little about what you say. You leave it by the stables, making your way to your chambers.

Jimin follows you.

You turn when you realise his presence.

“Why are you following me?”

Jimin glances down at his crotch. Your eyes follow his line of sight.

“I think you misunderstood something. I am leaving to get changed.”

“So am I”, Jimin says, taking a step closer.

“Jimin, please.”

“Riding with you messed with my mind”, he says, closing in on you until he could touch your waist.

“I could feel it.”

“I couldn’t help myself. I keep thinking about you and being so close to you, it reminded me how much I want to be with you.”

You are so weak in his presence. You truly wanted to keep distance to him, to give yourself time to think and to perhaps give him a chance to move on and yet you are back where you started, craving nothing but his presence. You miss him when you wake, when you fall asleep and when you see wonderful stuff you know he would love to see. Sharing such a laughter-filled afternoon with him, having him close as you rode and being reminded of how far you and he go back, reignited every single flame you tried to kill. 

“Jimin, I…” you begin, placing your hands on his chest. His heart is racing just as quickly as yours does. 

Jimin closes in, lowering his eyes halfway as he gazes at your lips. You inch closer, getting lost in the view of his lips. 

“Oh, there you are my Queen”, Frigga says, stopping in her steps as he watches you and Jimin scramble to break apart.

“Are you feeling better now, my Queen? Do you still feel weak in the knees?” Jimin lies, holding your waist.

“Yes, I feel better. Thank you for catching me, Sire”, you lie, meeting Frigga’s eyes, “oh Frigga, how lucky that you are here. Might you help me out of my clothes? I suddenly feel terribly weak from riding.”

Frigga clears her throat, keeping her thoughts to herself. She hurries to your side and supports you, taking over for Jimin this way. She leads you away from him.

“Yes, my Queen. Shall I send for the physician?” she asks.

“No, no I am sure that food and something to drink will help me greatly.”

“I understand, then we will…”

The rest of the conversation dies out in Jimin’s ears as you and Frigga cross the corner and therefore disappear from his sight.

Jimin takes a deep breath, touching his chest where his heart races. He doesn’t feel bad, he feels hopeful. Of course he is upset that you and he got interrupted, but if Frigga hadn’t interrupted you and him, he would have been close to you again.  You leaned in for a kiss. You haven’t given up on him yet. He giggles to himself, doing a small jump before he hurries away in happy skips. Today wasn’t as terrible as he thought it to be.

He will wash up and then wait for you in the hallways. Knowing your traditions, you will leave your chambers for a book from the library and that is when he will catch you again. Yes, that is his plan for the remaining day.

Jimin eats food in the dining hall with the others. He listens to Jinus talk about how awful Lord Frail’s company was and in return, Jimin tells him how he had to act as his stepping stool. The two knights proceed to call the lord many names, which will not be documented in these writings but one can imagine of what nature they were. After dinner, he still had to partake in an hour of training, but different than on other days, Jimin felt good. He felt happy and hopeful and terribly excited for what the night will bring.

Jimin tells the knights to have a good sleep after training and he makes his way to the library. He meets Frigga and your maids on his way, greeting them with a bright smile. Frigga’s eyes keep lingering on him, but Jimin ignores it, continuing his way to the library. He won’t be witness to the knowing gasp Frigga releases once she realises where his path will take him.

The library is empty during this hour of the day, but Jimin doesn’t let it intimidate him. He knows where to find you. You particularly enjoy the cultural section and always find yourself lost in the books. Tonight is no different. Dressed in a simple night gown and with your hair vast of jewellery, you stand by the cultural section with a book in your hand.

Jimin increases his steps, smiling so brightly his cheeks hurt. He begins running those last few steps. He cannot wait to be with you again.

You turn your head at the sound of steps in sync with Jimin sweeping you off your feet and pressing you against the shelf. You wanted to scream in shock, but don’t get to as Jimin claims your lips in a deep kiss.

The book falls to the ground, your lips tremble against his'. Your surprised sounds get swallowed by him.

Jimin rolls his hips into you and sighs, sucking on your lower lip as his heart races in his chest. He missed your kisses so much. He missed surprising you with them and how you always clutch him especially tightly as a result.

Tonight however, your desperate touch doesn’t come. Tonight, your hand presses itself between your lips as you begin wiggling in his hands until he can’t help but drop you.

“I don’t understand”, he confesses.

“Why would you do this? I gave you no permission”, you spit, carrying anger on your features.

“I, I thought that, that. You love when I surprise you here.”

“You have no idea what I want. All you care about is yourself”, you spit and push him away.

Jimin stumbles back, hitting the opposite bookshelf. His heart aches in his chest. Your words cut so very deep.

You turn and run away.

“I don’t understand. Why are you saying this?” he gets out, running after you, “my Queen what happened? Why are you acting this way?”

“I never should have come here. I’m such a fool”, you murmur to yourself.

“My Queen”, Jimin insists, touching your wrist gently, “what happened? I’m sorry for surprising you, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

You turn around, looking at him with glassy eyes. Jimin closes in on you, carrying honest regret in his eyes.

“What’s the matter? Is it me? I’m sorry for acting like this.”

“She asked me about you, Jimin”, you get out with fear in your voice, “she knows what we are”, you add and continue your way back to your chambers.

“What? Wait, what?” Jimin stutters, “wait. What are you saying?” he asks as he begins running after you.

“Go away, Jimin”, you tell him, increasing your steps.

“Who asked about me?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We are so wrong.”

“Who asked about me?” Jimin insists with increasing panic in his chest. He doesn’t like how you talk or how you act.

“Frigga. She saw that we touched each other and asked what it meant.”

“And what did you say?”

“Please, leave me alone. Please”, you beg, leaving the library. It isn’t far to your chambers anymore.

“My Queen”, Jimin follows you, “my Queen, please.”

You increase your steps. Tonight is not a good night for this. You feel weakened in spirit and crave his gentle touch. Frigga asked about him. She asked if perhaps you felt more for him than just friendship. You didn’t know what to say and so you sent her away. Now you are frightened. You do not want the public to find out and therefore shame Jimin. You can’t be responsible for him losing his honour. You are so scared and the worst of this situation was, that you craved his hugs as remedy.

“My Queen, please allow me but a moment”, he begs, taking one step where you take two. He knows these hallways well enough to be aware that he doesn’t have long until you can flee into your chambers, “please just a fleeting moment. I do not require much time.”

“You should go to bed, Jimin. It is too late”, you tell him, taking a sharp turn to the left. Your chambers are so close to reach.

“___ beloved, please.”

You falter in your steps. Your name from his lips stole your ability to walk. No one knows that he calls you beloved, whispered when he is deep inside you or gasped when you sink down on him. It happened naturally, he didn’t realise at first that these syllables fell from his tongue until you kissed him deeper than you ever had before and stole his breath in the process. Ever since then, your name followed by a term of endearment leaves him during moments most intimate. To be called this way right now, here in the dark, cold hallway where longing gets so painful to bear, robs you of every step you wanted to take. Jimin stops in order not to run into you. You don’t turn, but you also don’t run away anymore. You are breathing heavily, balling your hands into fists.

Jimin steps closer and brushes his hand down your arm. You tense up, biting your own lower lip to stop it from trembling. His touch returns warmth to your skin. Warmth, you missed like lungs miss air and plants miss sunlight. 

“Please stop pushing me away. We can solve this together”, he speaks quietly, sharing a secret only meant for you. 

A step closer. 

His calloused hand closes around your elbow. You close your eyes. To be touched by him is the most painful of dreams. Why must he feel so good? 

“I know that you are hurting. Please allow me take care of you”, he whispers, looking at your neck with longing, “allow me to ease the aches. Like I always did.” 

You want to speak, but can’t. You can’t form words as the only word your tongue craves to produce is his name.

His arm lays itself around your waist and tugs you into his chest. 

His heart is hammering against his ribcage. His warmth engulfs you in burning flames. Tears escape your eyes and leave cold trails down your cheeks. 

His hand closes on your waist and squeezes. The touch digs into the deepest parts of you. It is so familiar and yet so foreign. A comfort estranged because of the distance you forced yourselves to be in. 

“I miss you”, Jimin whispers with trembling emotion in his voice and brushes his nose against your neck. Vanilla and honey. He missed your scent so much. 

You miss him as well. You miss his laughter, his voice, his embrace and the tenderness of his kisses. You miss him when you fall asleep, you miss him when you wake up and you miss him during the day. The grief for your late husband is only for the public, for the true reason you are grieving is your lost love with Jimin. You ache without him. 

“It’s late Sire, go to bed”, you force the words out, stepping out of the hug even if you didn’t want to. 

“My Queen…”

You leave without looking back because if you did, you would have fallen around his neck and begged him to stay. You can’t allow yourself to give in.

Jimin doesn’t follow you that night and you cry yourself to sleep. 

He is talking. He should be the one asking questions and listening, but instead he has been talking about himself for the past hour. His name was Landor. Another suitor begging for a chance to be your second husband. He promises you lands in the north and strong children in the belly. Both of which sounded terrible to you. 

He is currently laughing at one of his fooleries. You don’t think it entertaining and so you don’t laugh. He snorts as his way of stopping his bone twisting laughter, looking at you with self-assured confidence. He must think himself to be the most entertaining of fellow. He probably hadn’t even realised that you didn’t join his laughter.

“Thank you Sire, I shall send word with my decision”, you tell him and send him away with a flick of the wrist.

“My Queen, I await the splendid news with longing in my heart”, Landor says and leaves thinking that he completely charmed you. He won’t ever receive word from you. 

The doors close and so you turn to your advisor.

“How much yapping do I still have to bear?” you ask her.

“There are still six contestants left, my Queen”, Frigga tells you and shows you the list. You skim over the names. None seems familiar to you and none catches your attention. Because none formed the name of the man you truly yearn for. You catch yourself looking at him.

He is standing behind Frigga, staring at the closed throne room doors with a stern expression. To others he seemed concentrated, but you know that he was upset. The tension in his jaw is familiar to you. You know that it only tortures his muscles when he is upset. He had this habit ever since he was a boy and on many nights, you soothed it away with soft touches to his jaw.

Jimin’s eyes flit to you, meeting your gaze for but a moment before you quickly look away. Your heart races unbearably. He caught you staring.

“Six, I see”, you press out, touching your own chest in hopes of calming down your heart, “bring in the next contestant.”

The doors open. You hope that it is enough to distract the people in the room and most importantly to distract Jimin. You glance at him again, feeling your heart twist in your chest. He is still looking at you, carrying heartbreaking longing in his dark brown eyes. The longing grows when your gazes meet, the tension in his jaw riffles and tightens.

You seemed tired today. Jimin felt tired as well. He didn’t find a lot of sleep last night, repeating what happened in the dark hallways over and over again. He tried to find answers to understand why you keep pushing him away. He fell asleep without finding what he looked for. Even now, as he looks into your eyes, he can’t find it.

You are plagued by thoughts of your own. You miss him. You miss his embrace, his kiss and his hands which fit so perfectly in yours. You miss him.

“My Queen!”

The voice of the next contestant rips you back to reality. You break your eyes away from Jimin and look at the man before you.

The next contestant for your hand in marriage was taller than Landor. His hair was grey and a lot thinner already and he seemed to have used some sort of animal grease to smudge it back. You scrunch your nose at the view, already hating the interaction. 

“My Queen!” he speaks loudly and bows deeply, “my name is Sir Kanneth from Kanneth Height and I am here to ask for your hand.”

“Yes I am aware. Tell me why I should consider taking you as my husband.”

“I shall tell you through song, my Queen!” he says and slides a lute from his back.

You bite back your exhausted sigh. He is one of those men. Annoying peacocks who believe their mediocre singing and terrible song writing will impress you. You listen to the man sing about his great adventures, wishing that it was over soon.

No voice could impress you, not when you know how Jimin sings. He doesn’t sing often, mostly during quiet moments of the night when the candles are almost burned down and you feel relaxed in his arms, but whenever he does, you find yourself wishing for time to slow down just so you could listen to him longer. You glance at Jimin again. He is furrowing his brows as he is forced to listen to the contestant sing. He turns his head, meeting your gaze. 

The terrible melodies drown out in your ears as you get lost in Jimin’s eyes. If you got up and ran away with him, would your life be happy?

“Wonderful! Oh how wonderful!” the cheers and applause of the court rips you back to your sad reality.

Sir Kanneth finished his song, bowing his head at you. You lift your hands and begin clapping.

“Impressive”, you say coldly, carrying no honesty in the statement.

Sir Kanneth leaves the throne room twenty minutes later. He won’t receive word either.

Neither will the third nor fourth contestant of the day. The fifth one enters the throne room, bearing gifts. Foreign food, which seem to be of his home country. He appears to be of your age and carries himself well. His ruby hair was long and reflected the light and his clothes were made of the finest of silks. You watch him with interested eyes.

He bows.

“Thranduin is my name. I come from far, far in the west”, he bows deeply, “my dearest condolences for your incredible loss, Your Highness. I too lost my first wife to the seas and I understand your grief.”

“Thank you for your well wishes”, you tell him, running your eyes up and down his body, “you don’t look like my other suitors.”

“Oh no”, he laughs and you think his laugh to be passable, “but when I got news that Queen ___ of the beautiful country of Windfell seeks a new husband, I had to get on my dragon and see you.”

“You have dragons in your country?”

“Yes indeed we do. We receive our companions once we pass two decades. Smogwyn is his name and he is a wonderful companion. I could introduce you to him if you wish.”

You don’t think that conversation with Thranduin is terrible or boring. As a matter of fact, he intrigues you, which hurts one person in the room more than anyone else. Jimin, stood behind you and with a careful eye on you, he stands witness to the laughable attempts of charming you the other men perform. He celebrates whenever one of your suitors gets send away by you, he judges whenever one says ridiculous stuff and he suffers now that you are standing up from your chair to descend the stairs.

“I would love to meet your companion, Sire. I have always dreamed of seeing a dragon.”

“Then I shall introduce you to him. I promise he doesn’t bite.”

You laugh and while Thranduin seems delighted, Jimin almost bites his own teeth out from tensing his jaw so tightly.

His agonies continue as his duties drag him with you. He follows behind while you and Thranduin talk. He clutches the handle of his sword tightly while his mind produced the most sinister of thoughts. If he was quick enough, he could cut Thranduin’s head off and throw his body over the edge of the railing. The cliff would be high enough and the sea punishing enough to take care of the rest. Naturally, he doesn’t give in to his thoughts even if every laugh you spill because of this stranger makes him wish he did.

Smogwyn, the dragon, is outside the capital gates. Down the windy road which leads to the rocky beaches of the capital. People had already gathered on top the walls to look at the foreign animal. The dragon covers an impressive amount of land, dragging a gasp out of you.

“By the heavens, this animal is enormous!”

“Indeed he is, eventhough he is still growing.”

“He is? Oh how incredible. How big will he be once he stops growing?”

“About twice his current size.”

“Oh, I am awestruck. This is the most unbelievable thing I have ever seen.”

“Shall I call him to us?”

“Oh heavens I am a little frightened, but yes call him.”

Thranduin whistles with the help of his fingers.

The red scaled dragon lets out a grumble so deep the earth shakes and lifts his head. He takes a step where humans would have to take seven, shaking the water each time he connects his clawed foot with the ground.

You are standing on the high bridge which connects the capital with the Queendom’s many islands. The dragon reaches above the bridge, taking up your entire vision as he moves his head close.

You squeak in frightened excitement, stumbling back. Your hand closes around Jimin’s in instinct. His heart stops in his chest, his stomach clenches. You haven’t noticed that you are holding his hand as you are mesmerised by the dragon. Thranduin hasn’t noticed either, he is too preoccupied with petting his scaled companion.

“Oh, this is frightening”, you say and squeak in laughter.

The dragon moves his head, taking in your scent.

“Oh heavens”, you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut as the dragon’s nose stubs your body. He breathes in and exhales, blowing warm winds around your body and Jimin’s. The dust on the ground swirls, your dress sways aggressively. The air smells like glowing coal. But everything Jimin can take in, is your hand squeezing his’ and your back pressing against his chest as you flee from the dragon.

The dragon grumbles and lifts his head.

“Oh this was thrilling!” you exclaim, letting go of Jimin’s hand to clap. You jump on the spot, beaming at Thranduin, “a dragon smelled me! Oh Sire, I am bouncing in excitement. This was incredible!”

Jimin balls his hand to a tight fist, staring at your glowing face with pain in his heart. You gave him so much happiness with the touch and yet you haven’t even realised that you did it.

“He seems to enjoy your company, Your Highness”, Thranduin says, “I must say that I share this feeling with him.”

“Oh dear”, you fluster.

Jimin tenses his jaw, gripping the handle of his sword. He would most definitely be eaten by the dragon if he tried anything right now, but it would be worth it. This man angers him beyond imagination.

You step closer to Thranduin.

“May I touch him? Please just once.”

“Of course. Give me your hand, I shall guide you to him.”

And so Jimin has to watch as you place your hand into the palm of a stranger. This is the hand he held mere moments ago and now you are giving it away. Jimin forces down tears and turns his back to you. He can’t bear to watch this any longer. He can hear you squeal and squeak behind him as Thranduin, the twat, guides your hand over the rough scales of the dragon. He can hear you laugh and giggle as Thranduin calls out your beauty once again. And he can hear you talk with great vigour in your voice as you ask more questions about the dragons and the customs of Thranduin’s country.

He doesn’t look at you until it was time to leave for the castle again. And while he puts more distance between you and him, you seem to walk closer to Thranduin.

You stop by the throne room doors.

“Will you stay in Windfell for long, Sire?” you ask Thranduin.

“I can stay for as long as you wish me to, Your Highness. I have many more stories to tell”, Thranduin says, making you smile.

“Then you shall stay for dinner. I want to know everything you have to tell and try the foods you brought.”

“As you wish, Your Highness. I shall stay for dinner. I am certain that my country’s cuisine will bring you great enjoyment. Food is very important in our culture.”

“You have me interested, Sire. I enjoy food a great lot.”

“It seems that we share yet another similarity, Your Highness”, he says and makes you laugh. 

Truly, Jimin wishes that he could slice him. 

The sixth contestant of the day gets sent home with the promise that tomorrow will be another day, while Thranduin gets led to one of the empty guest quarters to prepare for dinner.

You hurry to your own chambers, followed by Frigga and Jimin. While Frigga helps you with getting dressed behind your privacy screen, Jimin is destined to stand by your door. He tries not to, but still looks at you. The privacy screen feels like mockery to him. Your naked body is a landscape most familiar to Jimin and yet you hide away from him. He is aware why you do it, as his explorations were secret to even Frigga, and he also knows that he has no right to your body even if you and he were husband and wife, but he still feels mocked today. Your friendly nature with Thranduin made him irrationally jealous and upset.

“He seemed to have caught your attention, my Queen”, Frigga says, twisting a knife in Jimin’s heart with her words.

“Oh yes, his dragon is most interesting”, you say, “I hope to hear many more stories about them.”

“My Queen, you make it sound as if everything which was intriguing about the man was his dragon”, Frigga jokes and laughs.

You falter for a moment. Frigga can’t see it as she is busy tying your dress at the back, but Jimin can. The privacy screen is low enough that your heads are still poking out. Jimin watches how a sort of realisation washes over you and how embarrassment replaces it.

“Well, I”, you let out a breathy laugh, lowering your head as you shake it, “you speak of silly things, Frigga.”

Frigga giggles, “my apologies. You know that I jest way too much.”

You laugh, nodding your head. But the realisation still remains on your features.

Jimin stares at it with a racing heart. Perhaps he looked at the entire situation with incorrect eyes. Perhaps Thranduin was never exciting to you, but the dragon and stories he brings. Perhaps the man will ruin his chances with you just as all the other men did. A dragon and little stories will only be interesting to you that long before you realise that the man itself won’t bring you satisfaction.

Your eyes flit to Jimin and meet his gaze and for the first time today, he feels confident in holding eye contact. You break it sooner than him, touching the side of your own neck. You don’t look at him again while Jimin feels his lips curl into a triumphant smile. Your eyes said everything he needed to know. You just lost interest in the man.

Fate however soon shows him that it wasn’t as easy as he thought it to be. You seem entirely entranced by the man’s every word during dinner. You look at him, laugh at his jokes, ask for more stories and once dinner ends, you ask him if he felt in the mood for honey wine in the castle gardens. And while Jimin wanted to follow you as your guard, you told him that he was free for the night, leaving him behind as you left for wine with Thranduin. Jimin felt so angered by the entire situation that he dared to kick the sturdy stone wall when nobody saw him. 

The castle sleeps except for a few night owls still playing card games in the dining halls. They share wine and sweet delicacies of your country. Butter cookies with a pinecone jelly filling. The taste is most exquisite and goes excellent with the honey wine of the castle’s brewery. You drank quite a lot of the honey wine tonight, so much in fact that you try not to let the people see you as you hurry to your bed chambers. It would be beyond humiliating to show yourself in such a state to the public. It is already embarrassing enough that Thranduin had to help you to your feet as you felt too drunk to walk on your own. Speaking of the latter, you left him by his guest quarters, promising him breakfast in the dining hall tomorrow.

Frigga and your maids are asleep by now. You are glad that they are, because you couldn’t bear to hear their teasing comments about your intoxicated state. They would most definitely think your jolly nature to be of love drunk origin, but it wasn’t. You were drunk. Nothing less and nothing more. Thranduin was good company, his stories were thrilling and you loved learning about dragons. He was also very handsome and a scent of what he called a “coconut” surrounded him. But you didn’t find your heart beating faster for him. He felt more like a good friend to you than a potential husband. You were too drunk to think about the meaning of said feelings however, all you knew is that you had a good evening and that you felt ready for bed.

You slip inside your chambers, closing the doors behind you. You use them to catch your balance for a moment, propping your hand against the wood as you take a few deep breaths. You are jolly drunk, by the heavens.

You let a small giggle escape. It has been too long since you last felt that carefree. You missed the feeling so incredibly much.

“Ah heavens”, you let out and turn to hurry to the dressing area. You want to get out of your clothes. They have been torturing you for too long.

It is a rather difficult task to undress. It is already very hard to do alone on a sober day and with the additional help of alcohol, it gets almost impossible. You find yourself sitting down on the floor and undoing the intricate lacing of your dress this way. You also take off your jewellery this way, giggling to yourself because you felt rather silly sitting on the floor. Truly, you feel so entirely carefree tonight.

You abandon your clothes and jewellery on the ground, stepping from behind the privacy screen in nothing but your undergarments. You need to take the hair jewellery out and take care of your skin and then you can finally fall into bed. You stumble past your bed, letting out a loud scream when you see a figure sitting on it. You squint your eyes to see better.

“Jimin?!” you exclaim, stumbling closer, “by heavens, you gave me such a fright! I believed you to be an intruder. Oh dear”, you giggle at first until realisation overcomes you, “why are you in my chambers? Have you always been here? Did you sit in silence like a ghost while I undressed?!”

Jimin nods his head. He is wearing nothing more than a thigh-length sleeping tunic and some comfortable linen pants. His sword is on the mattress beside him and his hair lacks volume from brushing it.

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“You seem drunk”, he ignores your question, scanning his eyes up and down your body.

“Indeed I am. I drank way too much honey wine.”

“I can see that. You shouldn’t drink that much. You’re the queen.”

“Oh come now”, you let out a mocking scoff, “did you truly just say that?”

He nods his head, tightening his jaw.

“This isn’t yours to say.”

“I worry.”

“Well, don’t. It soils my mood.”

Jimin tongues his cheek, lowering his eyes in annoyance.

You break your eyes away from him and walk to your dressing table. You don’t feel as jolly drunk anymore as you did before. As a matter of fact, you feel rather terrible. He was the reason why you drank so much. You wanted to forget him and the burning feelings you harbour for him and seeing him on your bed presented in such an intimate way brought everything, you managed to forget about, back to the surface. You are so irrationally angry at him.

Jimin watches you barely manage to sit down. If the chair wasn’t as sturdy in its balance as it was, you most definitely would have doubled over. 

You begin taking out your hair pearls, doing so with swaying shoulders and lazy eyes. 

Jimin takes a deep breath and gets up from bed. He walks to the dining area of your room and prepares a jug of water for you. The waters in your queendom are as clear as crystal and healing to drink. While other queendoms struggle to find safe drinking water, your queendom lives in abundance. You especially enjoy the taste of it when you wake up in the middle of the night and its temperature feels especially cold on your tongue. 

Jimin places the full jug on the dressing table. You look at it, then at the reflection of him in your mirror. His jaw carried tension.

“Drink it. You will get a headache otherwise”, he tells you. 

“I didn’t ask for water.”

“And I didn’t ask to be treated like shit. It seems we both didn’t get what we asked for.” 

You break your eyes away from him, gulping the water down in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful lump in your throat. 

The silence is suffocating. He keeps staring at you, standing right behind you. You feel so much aching pressure on your heart, struggling to undo the pearls in the back. Jimin nudges your hands away gently and takes over for you. Your eyes meet in the mirror. He is frowning while you can barely keep the eye contact alive. He breaks it first, looking down at your head as he helps you with your hair.

Jimin helped you with your hair on many occasions in the past. He studied as your hair dressers styled it and studied how they prepared it for bed and then one night he asked if he could be the one preparing it for you. You allowed him and ever since that night, he often took care of your hair while you looked at him through the mirror.

To have him take care of you tonight breaks your heart into a million pieces. You are so lonely without him.

Jimin removes the last of your hair pearls, leaning over to place them in the big sea shell on your table. The seas of your queendom were filled with the most wonderful of shells, some even bigger than your head. It is a common occurrence that empty shells wash up at the shores and for the bowl makers of the capital to create the most wonderful bowls and trinkets out of them. Shell bowls and boxes are scattered all throughout your chambers, holding your jewellery and other treasures.

Jimin’s middle presses into your back as he leans over. The sensation steals your air. It ends too soon for your taste, but you know not to reach behind you and pull him closer like you so often did in the past. You shouldn’t do this anymore. As a matter of sad fact, you never should have allowed it to come this far that you began pulling him closer for more.

Jimin picks up the brush which your brush makers fabricated out of shells and natural bristles especially for your hair. It always leaves your hair feeling healthy and Jimin learned how to use it correctly in order to care for you.

It feels so good to have him untangle your hair, but it also makes you ache. He knows you so well and takes such great care of you. You miss him so much.

You reach for the jug of water quickly to distract yourself from your feelings.

“You held my hand today”, Jimin says into the heavy silence. 

You choke on your water, spilling some as you set the jug down hastily. You cough, looking at Jimin again. 

The latter lands gentle slaps to your upper back to get rid of your cough. It helps.

“What are you saying?” you get out, clearing your throat to rid yourself of the last tickles.

“Down by the beach, when the dragon came close. You held my hand.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. And then you gave it away to Thranduin”, Jimin scrunches his nose in jealous disgust, “the only thing this man can bring you, is the stench of dragon and boring stories. Even his food lacked flavour and I am sure he fucks just as bland.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” you gasp, feeling honestly shocked at his harsh words. It is unlike him to allow his dialect to come through.

“Nothing. I am merely saying it how it is.”

“Well, you are incorrect. I shared a wonderful evening with him. He is good company.”

“Good’s just passing in disguise. You deserve more than good company.”

“He has potential to become great company.”

“Of course”, Jimin says and scoffs, turning his back to you to walk back to the bed, “you’re a terrible jester.”

You stand up, looking at him with dark eyes. 

“I felt so jolly tonight. Why must you ruin it like this?”

“Because I’m in misery and I’m selfish and awful enough that I don’t want you to be happy with someone who isn’t me.”

“I see”, you let out and scoff, “you truly are selfish.”

“Yes, indeed I am. I am the most selfish bastard you will ever meet and you know who I learned this from?”

You don’t answer him.

“You. You made me your servant, took my innocence, gave me glimpses of a life with you only to push me away once your joke of a husband spent his time and rotted away and you finally began feeling guilty enough. You are the most selfish person I have ever seen.”

“Why would you say that?” you gasp, feeling yourself tear up.

“Because I am tired of being treated this way by you.”

“Treated this way? You are my knight and nothing more. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Leave you alone? I went from holding you in my arms and feeling your love to being pushed away and treated like vermin by you within the blink of an eye. Tell me how this should make me feel. How I should live with the ache in my heart.”

“You know why I had to push you away.”

“No. No, I don’t because you never gave me an explanation. He died”, Jimin points out at the sea, “and suddenly I wasn’t good enough anymore, because we are both well aware that your horrific futures wouldn’t ever have happened. They were never the reason why you pushed me away. I merely stopped being good enough and I am tired of running after you. Please just give me a reason why I stopped being good enough for you.”

“I do not owe you an explanation, I am your Queen.”

“Yes, you are my Queen, but you are also my best friend and the woman I love and you loved me as well. The least I deserve is an explanation.”

You loved him.

The word hurts.

Loved is incorrect.

You love him.

You still do.

You still love him. You never stopped.

But you have to push him away. You and he are wrong for each other. There are no two souls which are actually so right for each other, but society makes you wrong. In another life where no ranks or duties differentiate you and him, you could be happy. But not here. Not in the real world.

“There is no explanation. I am your queen and you did your duties. I apologise if I made it seem as if there was more behind it.”

Jimin tears up, but continues to talk. His heart aches too much not to. He isn’t rational right now, led by emotions and he needs to say everything which was on his mind.

“Why are you saying this? Why would you lie? Who are you pretending for? It’s just us right now. Why do you pretend to feel nothing for me?”

“I am not pretending. I feel nothing for you.”

Jimin closes the distance between you and him. You stumble back until the edge of the desk digs into your thighs. Jimin acts quickly, lifting you up on the table with such vigour that you make a sound without wanting to. He is between your legs, pressing his middle against your own while his hands are on your waist. You feel short of breath, gulping repeatedly in an attempt to get air back into your lungs.

“Go on tell me that this doesn’t make you feel anything”, Jimin whispers, drawing patterns between your eyes and your lips with his mesmerising gaze, “tell me that this means nothing to you and I will leave you to find unhappiness with a stranger.”

“Jimin I…” you breathe shakily, fighting your eyes as they flit to his lips. You lose the fight. His lips are glistening in the candle lights, looking like rose petals in colour even in the dim room. The scent of his vanilla lip oil meets your nose. You crave his kiss like water “…please.”

“Push me away, ___.”

“Why would you do this to me? Why can’t you listen?”

“Because I can’t give up on you. Not without help, so push me away. That is all you have to do. Push me away.”

You place your hands on his chest. His heart is racing uncontrollably. You give him a gentle nudge.

“This isn’t enough. Push me away”, Jimin insists, fighting your weak pushes.

You try again, spilling tears.

“Push me away. Do it, ___.”

You can’t push him away. You need him. You can’t survive without him. 

“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. You drop your hands from his chest, grabbing his waist, “no”, you whisper and tug him into a hug. You rest your head on his chest, shaking it, “no. You are good enough, Jimin. You are too good for me in fact. I have to marry for power, but you should marry for love. I’m so selfish to keep you with me. You are not supposed to be a secret.”

Jimin closes his arms around you and presses you close.

“It’s alright. I’m just as selfish.”

“No. No, it’s not fair to you”, you shake your head.

“Sending me away will break me more than being your secret”, Jimin insists, stopping your vigorous head shaking gently. He brushes his palm down the back of your head repeatedly, “I know you are scared, but we will figure this out. We will do it together like we always did. Please don’t let seventeen years go to waste, ___.”

You exhale shakily, looking up at him with tears covering your cheeks.

Jimin’s eyes are filled with reassurance, a warm smile curls his lips. He cups your cheeks to dry your tears. You lean into the touch, finally finding the comfort you craved for too long.

“We will find a way together. Yes?” he whispers. 

You nod your head. 

“Yes, we will”, he says and watches as you furrow your brows sadly, “what’s the matter?”

“I want to marry you”, you confess, “but if I can’t find a strong companion, my queendom will be without protection. My late husband never expected love from me, we were friends and I loved him dearly as such and now he is dead and I am destined to find someone to fill his place. I am frightened, Jimin. I do not want to pretend to love a stranger. Why did he have to die and leave me to fend for myself?”

“You are not alone. I’m by your side. I will always be by your side.”

“I know”, you blink your tears away, “I’m so grateful that you are”, you say and cup his cheeks.

He leans into the touch, lowering his eyes in the fondest of ways. He slides his left hand to the small of your back, while his right engulfs the nape of your neck. He tugs you closer, eliciting a whimper from you. You tilt your head up, closing your eyes to get lost in the kiss. But the kiss never comes. At least not on your lips. He kisses the tears from your cheeks before placing soft kisses on your sensitive neck, on the spots where it feels the best.

“Jimin….” you sigh, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. Your fingers grasp his tunic and twist it desperately, your legs close around him to tug him closer. You feel breathless. This is the kind of feeling you know to be attraction. This is how you feel when you crave someone’s touch. One kiss to your neck is enough to send your body into a blurred state of happiness.

Jimin lifts his pillowy lips from your neck. You chase him, even going so far as to slide your hand to his neck to pull him back, but he is stronger. He brushes his lips over your ear as he speaks.

“I won’t go further than this tonight. You are drunk and I am the last person who would make an indecent woman out of you.”

“I don’t care. I’m indecent with you”, you say, grabbing his hair to pull him close, “kiss me, Jimin. Please.”

Jimin allows you to win the fight and drag him into a kiss. It is a messy kiss. You are so drunk that you barely have coordination over your mouth. To you it felt like the most wonderful of kisses, but to Jimin it felt wet and just a little sloppy. He still kissed you back because he missed your kiss so much it became hard to breathe. He swallows the crude moans you let out while his hands touch your backside. You arch your back, rolling your hips into him. His calloused hands slide under your behind and lift you from the table. You moan, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you to bed. You are rubbing yourself against him, feeling suffocated in need. You missed him so much. You missed him. Missed him. Missed him.

Jimin places you in the sheets, but doesn’t climb on top of you. Instead he keeps one foot grounded on the floor, while the knee of his other rests between your opened legs. He breaks the kiss, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.

“Sleep tight, ___ beloved”, he whispers and steps back.

“Jimin…please…”

He gives you a bow before turning his back to you and leaving your chambers. He keeps his sword on your bed as a symbol that he hasn’t left your life tonight.

The doors fall closed.

You touch your lips, gasping for air. He left you. He did so little tonight and yet your heart is hammering in your chest.

“Fuck”, you whisper, staring at his sword.

That night you do unspeakable things with its handle. Things so indecent that they couldn’t possibly be mentioned in these writings. And the most humiliating part was that you weren’t ashamed of them.

You don’t let the court know how hungover you felt. Frigga and your maids woke you two hours after the sun rose and helped you freshen up. They asked how you enjoyed the evening with Thranduin and you could simply smile and tell them that you had a good time with him. They missed how you ogled Jimin’s sword as you spoke the words.

Once they dressed you for breakfast, you left your chambers. You take Jimin’s sword with you, even if your servants seemed confused about its presence for a moment.

“He must have forgotten it as I got ready for the evening with Thranduin”, you lied and they didn’t probe any further.

“My Queen”, Jimin joins your side on the hallways. He is dressed in his armour and carries his spare sword. He bows at you, giving you a miniscule smile as he straightens up again. Happiness surrounds him today and you feel the same.

“Sire”, you greet him with a curtsey, stifling a giggle, “I noticed that you forgot your sword in my chambers.”

“Truly? I did? Oh how clumsy of me. I already looked for it everywhere this morning”, he says, “I must have forgotten it as you got ready for your evening with Thranduin.”

“I already figured that much. Worry not, I brought it with me”, you say and offer it to him.

Jimin accepts it with a bow of his head. He holds it by his sheath at first, furrowing his brows as his eyes scan over the handle. 

Your heart flutters. He noticed.

He touches it, lifting his brows in surprise when he feels the sinful residue you left on it.

His eyes meet yours and widen. He knows. You allow a small smile to curl your lips. Oh how you are fighting with your giggles. His shocked face is such a delight.

“You should take better care of your swords, Sire”, you tell him and continue your strut to the dining hall.

Jimin stands and stares until even the last of your servants passed him. He waits until their chatters and giggles became quieter in the hallway and only then, he dares to brush his fingers against his nose. If he wasn’t yet sure about what covered his sword, he received all the reassurance he needed with just one inhale. He gulps and finds himself feeling dizzy. You pleasured yourself with his sword. With burning cheeks and his heart racing in his chest, he sets off to follow you. Today will be a difficult day. Oh how he yearns for you.

Thranduin is already in the dining hall when you enter it. He stands up and closes the distance between you and him. “Your Highness, you look lovely this morning”, he greets you and reaches for your hand to kiss it. 

Jimin places the sword on his wrist. He kept it in its sheath, holding it by its soiled handle. Only he gets to touch it on this spot. You feel beyond excited at the view, which further proves how no other man could ever inflict the same feelings in you. You have a handsome suitor kissing your hand and yet the thought that Jimin touches the handle you marked brings you more joy than such a romantic gesture.

“The Queen prefers to be asked before she gets touched”, Jimin tells a baffled Thranduin. He glances at you, giving you a small smile. One you retort with a fluttering heart.

“Oh? I, I”, Thranduin stutters, “please forgive my manners. I must have believed that I had a right to a hand kiss after last night.”

You pull your hand free. 

“No please, I took no offense. You must forgive my guard. He is overly protective”, you say and strut to the tables, “now, shall we have breakfast? I must say that I am starving.” 

Conversation with Thranduin is great again. You feel comfortable with him and honestly laughed. Jimin didn’t mind bearing witness to them today. He knew of your true feelings, the sword he keeps clutching was proof enough. What you are currently doing was for show. 

You ask Thranduin if he and his escorts felt in the mood for a game of Stickball in the castle’s garden. He agreed and so you find yourselves playing stickball in the gardens. 

Stickball was an incredibly fun game which originated in your queendom long, long before your time. Back in its beginnings, people used sticks they found on trees to carry a spherical stone to a basket on the ground without dropping it. Over time one basket became multiple baskets placed over the playing field. These days, there are tools for the game and it is played whilst sharing honey wine and pine cone jelly biscuits. You refuse the wine today. 

Thranduin is busy with his play and the others on the court are busy with exchanging cultural stories, so only Jimin bears witness to your refusal.

You stand under the shadow of a tree, leaning your weight onto your sticks, when he closes in to whisper.

“Does someone regret last night?” he is teasing. 

You still feel drunk enough to feel the need to tease as well. You turn your head so your noses almost touch.

“You carry proof of how much I regret last night in your hand. Need I say more?” you whisper, ending it with a seductive look to his lips.

Jimin flusters, taking a step back. 

You chuckle, leaving him under the shadow as you join Thranduin’s side. 

“You seem to know your way around this game very well, Sire.”

“You must be mocking me right now. I am truly terrible at it.”

You laugh. 

“But you are talented for your first time. Not everyone manages to keep the ball balanced for such a long time.”

“You believe so? Well, then I feel good in my play”, he jokes and seconds later, drops the ball. You and he share in laughter. 

“See? I am terrible.”

“Fret not, it took me a long time to get good at the game”, you say and pick up your ball, “I shall show you how it is done.”

“I have to look thoroughly then”, Thranduin says and laughs when seconds later you drop the ball as well.

“Oh by the heavens, I-”, you let out and glance at him, “I must insist this only happened because I am still drunk.”

“Yes, yes tell yourself such lies, Your Highness”, Thranduin teases and picks up his ball for another try.

The game is amazing fun. Thranduin is wonderful company. You joke, exchange stories, laugh and have fun. He feels like a friend you have known for a long time. But this is as far as your interest for him goes. Friendship. 

Your feelings for the situation became so painfully obvious to you now that you had the memory of last night replaying in your head. You liked Thranduin as a friend and hope to continue this friendship, but your heart lies with your knight. You do not want to deny those feelings any longer.

Thranduin is currently busy exchanging stories with Frigga. You and he already moved on to the fifth basket on the playing field. There were still ten more to go. Now experiencing a moment of silence, you begin looking for Jimin. He is standing with the other guards under the shade of the trees. His eyes meet yours instantly and light up. He smiles, you retort it. 

The heat of the sun, the lightheartedness of the game and the lingering wine in your veins blurs your sense of care today. And so you listen to the voices of your heart and make your way to Jimin. 

Not before interrupting Thranduin’s story for a quick, “I feel the need to freshen up. I shall return shortly. Frigga, you can play in my stead.” 

“Are you feeling alright, my Queen?” she asks.

“Yes, yes I just drank too much and need to use the private chambers.”

“Understood, my Queen”, she says with a nod of her head. 

“I shall attempt to get better till you are back”, Thranduin jokes, eliciting a small laugh from you before you officially excuse yourself. 

Jimin straightens up in giddy nervousness once he sees you strutting to him confidently. His heart is racing. He didn’t expect to be approached with such confidence.

“I need to freshen up”, you tell him. 

“Yes, my Queen”, he says and leaves his spot to tail behind you. 

You pass a few people on your way through your gardens. They greet you with bows while you greet them with a smile. You manage to get as far as the lower hallways and then loneliness surrounds you. No other people are in sight. 

Jimin looks around. Left, right, front and back. You and he are alone. There is a broom cabinet to your right. Jimin looks at you and grabs his soiled sword. This is his chance.

He closes the distance and touches your waist. 

“Oh”, you gasp in surprise, squeaking when he twirls you and pushes, “what are you doing? Jimin, what-”, an unflattering, yet honest cackle leaves you, "heavens, you."

Jimin pushed you into the broom cabinet. It is big enough to house hip high dressers and ceiling high shelves. Your gardeners use it to store their equipment in here, as well as pillows for the garden. He kicks the door closed and uses the soiled sword to seal it from inside. Then he turns, grabbing you again to lift you off your feet and onto the dresser. 

You grab for him, pulling him into a kiss in sync with him leaning into it. It results in your teeth colliding with each other. 

“Careful”, you giggle, smiling into the kiss.

“Forgive me”, he mumbles and claims your lips in a passionate kiss. He doesn’t care about the clumsy mess-up, not when he wants you achingly. 

You moan and pull him closer. Your limbs wrap around him, your hands grasp him desperately. You need him closer and no matter how close you and he are, it isn’t enough. This is everything you wanted for weeks. To go without his kiss was torture.

“I can’t breathe”, Jimin confesses between kisses, “I’m ruined.”

“Jimin, closer”, you beg, pulling him into a kiss. Your tongue traces his lips. He grants you access instantly, allowing you to show him the tempo. Desperate. Messy. With barely any honour. You grind yourself against him and in return, he can’t stop rolling his hips into you. This is scandalous. No decorum is left. You have never needed each other more than you do right now. You can’t be mannerly, not when your very souls need to be connected. 

You tug at the straps of his shoulder plates. It takes some time to take off his armour, but you have practice with it. Too many times you and he had to be quick. Too many times, you had to be fast in undressing each other because little time was all that you had. You learned how to do it in a haste. You studied his armour until you knew where it was easiest to open. 

You tug the correct strap open. His shoulder plates fall off of him. Jimin moans and pulls you closer. His right arm is around your waist, pressing you into him. The kiss to your lips breaks because he needed to worship your neck. He does it sloppily and with desperate whimpers leaving him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you”, he moans between kisses, “what you did with my sword. It drives me mad.” 

“I had to. You left me alone”, you moan, struggling as you open the straps for his chest plate. He is sucking on your skin, kissing the spots most sensitive and kneading your flesh with desperate fingers all while his hips keep rolling into you as if he was already fucking you. 

You open the strap. His chest plate falls off, his back plate follows as well. Now he is before you in nothing but his linen shirt tugged into his pants. You grab it desperately, feeling him up through the fabric. It is damp because it was a hot day and armour makes one very hot. The sensation makes you moan. He is so heated up, so undoubtedly him. There is no one else who gets to feel him when he is this way. 

“I need to have you, please”, he begins begging because your touch through such a thin shirt is hard to bear.

“Open my dress”, you order as you are busy tugging his shirt from his pants.

“You have too much lacing. Why must you wear such a dress today?” he whines as he tries to open it.

You giggle, Jimin does as well. You and he shared this struggle on many occasions, but today it feels special. It fills your hearts with happiness because such a struggle meant that you and he were finally together again. 

“I felt beautiful.” 

“You are beautiful”, Jimin says and struggles, “fuck, I can’t do it this way”, he says and swoops you off the dresser to put you down in front of him. He twirls you so your back is facing him.

“You are so indecent”, you giggle, pressing your behind into him while he gets busy with your lacing. 

“I learned from you”, he answers you, meeting your hips in rolls of his own.

Jimin manages to unlace your dress quickly in this position. He tugs it open and pushes it down your shoulders. It falls to the floor. You turn and allow him to lift you out of the fabric heap. You squeak and giggle as you do, pulling him into a kiss. 

He feels weakened. He stumbles and falls against the shelves, sliding you down until your feet touch the ground. You pin him against the shelves instantly, kissing him so deeply Jimin finds it difficult to stand. His hands are holding you by your waist, his fingers dimple your flesh. Your underdress is made out of a thin fabric. It is as if he was already touching your bare skin. You are heated up as well, forcing moans to the tip of his tongue. There is no better feeling than that of your warm body.

His sword falls to the ground. You opened the belt, allowing it to drop. The sound doesn’t startle Jimin. In fact, he barely hears it as his ears are filled with nothing but your moans and heavy breathing. 

Seconds later, he feels your hand slide down his pants. You find him instantly, rubbing him vigorously.

“___”, he moans breathily, breaking the kiss just so he can rest his forehead against yours and shudder in pleasure. He throbs in your hand, soiling your palm with his wet pleasure.

“You are so hard”, you croak, playing with his sensitive tip. You squeeze it gently, forcing more of his wetness to leak.

“Please can I h-have you?” he begs in a pitched voice and his knees trembling uncontrollably.

“I shouldn’t allow you. As punishment for abandoning me last night”, you taunt.

 “Please, oh-” he nips at your jawline, “I wanted to be respectful, I- oh please.”

“I had to pleasure myself with your sword. Do you have any idea how desperate that left me? How humiliating it was? I couldn’t stop until my legs shook, Jimin.”

“Please”, he breathes out, collapsing into you before he catches himself again. His forehead rests against the side of your face, his pillowy lips brush over your cheek as he fights for air, “I’m sorry.”

“Mhm Jimin, you are such a treasure when you beg”, you rasp, slipping your hand out of his pants, “you can fuck me.”

“My Queen”, Jimin mewls and falls to his knees before you. He runs his hands up your legs, gazing at you with utter devotion in his eyes, “my beloved ___”, he croaks, punching up your dress with his hands as his lips worship your inner thighs. 

Your breath shudders, your heart skips too many beats. He is so out of breath, so obviously ruined, kissing his way up your inner thighs until your heat is under his lips. The dress covers most of his face this way, his strong hands are on your hips keeping you close. 

His wet tongue suddenly laps at your heat, sending fiery pleasure through your veins.

“Ah! Jimin!” you moan loudly, throwing your head back as your hands try to grab his hair. You sway because it gets difficult to keep yourself standing when he is using his mouth in such desperate manners. 

He is sucking and licking you vigorously, producing the most sinful of sounds. He is moaning as well, letting you know how much enjoyment he finds in the taste of you. His strong, calloused fingers keep kneading you desperately, leaving marks of sensitivity all over your skin.

“I missed you”, he gets out, pulling you onto his face until there is nothing but your scent filling his nose and your taste coating his tongue. He flicks it quickly, slurping up the masses of saliva his greedy mouth produces. He is untamed in the way he tastes you.

Jimin is a very mannerly lover. Too much he worries to soil your treasured heat with disrespectful oral. Most times it was you who had to tell him to let manners by the door. So to have him so unapologetically feast on you as if you were his last meal truly ruins you. Especially when you had to go without his touch for months.

Jimin takes your clit between his puffy lips and sucks, growling and moaning around you as his lips truly come to good use in massaging you just right.

“Oh Jimin, I’m close”, you confess in a squeak, fighting gravity. Your fingers tug on his hair painfully.

Jimin chuckles, sucking on your clit one more time before he tilts his head up. Your dress ruffled his hair, his puffy lips are wet in your sweetness, as his chin. His eyes gleam in dark pleasure and hungry desire, running up and down your body.

“I barely did anything”, he is teasing because he knows that he is allowed to do so.

“It has been months for me as well”, you defend yourself, giving his hair a gentle tug, “do not make fun of me.”

“I’m not. I love when you are like this”, Jimin smiles, squeezing your hips, “I want to fuck you so good”, he rasps as he rests his chin against your lower tummy, gazing up at you like a love drunk puppy. He sticks his behind out for it, looking truly to die for.

You ruffle his hair, “you and your dirty mouth. Get your cock out. Now.”

“Yes, my Queen”, Jimin obeys.

He takes his cock out of his pants, sitting on the ground as you keep him down with just a look. Jimin loves following your orders and there are no orders sweeter than when you tell him exactly what to do during sex.

He kneels once he is bared, keeping his hands on his sculpted thighs. His tunic, punches up on them, hiding his cock from you. You glance at it. Jimin fixes it instantly, stuffing the fabric behind his cock so it was visible to you.

“So good for me”, you praise, running the back of your hand down his cheek.

Jimin closes his eyes halfway, chasing your touch with a sigh.

“Sit down so I can get comfortable.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

You place your hands on his shoulders once he fixed the position and lower yourself, sitting comfortably on his lap. He touches your waist, meeting your fond gaze with even greater fondness. 

“I’m happy”, you confess.

“I’m happy too”, he answers you and gives you a gentle tug, “I want you. Please.”

“Yes. Yes, I want you as well”, you say and lift yourself to fix your positions. Jimin wraps his hand around his length, keeping it straight so you could slide down on him with ease. There is no friction, no discomfort. Just warmth and the overwhelming feeling of reconnecting with each other. 

“___”, Jimin moans, looking up at you with glassy eyes. His lids flutter, his fingers dimple your behind, “I missed you so much. Oh, you feel so good.”

“I missed you as well”, you croak, bottoming out. You grab his face, “Jimin. Beloved”, you whimper, pulling him into a kiss. 

“Beloved”, he sobs, keeping you close as his trembling lips kiss you back desperately. 

Your hips dance on his lap, chasing the feeling of him. There is no other person who fits as well as Jimin does. He makes you feel whole, as if a missing piece finally returned. Being with him not only heals your body from the aches of desire but also heals your heart from loneliness. 

“You feel so good”, you keen, panting desperately as your lips chase him. It is difficult to kiss, but you just can’t get yourself to stop. You need to make up for months of lost connection.

“Yes, yes, you do”, Jimin moans, holding you close. He is helping you with the movements, finding his only support by grasping your hips. 

It doesn’t matter if you and he love each other slowly or if you fuck like animals, it always heals your hearts. Because what you and he are doing isn’t just simple fucking, it is yet another way to confess each other’s love. And today it leaves you especially breathless. 

You were so lonely without each other, your hearts were so broken. Every second spent reconnecting with each other mends the deep cracks in your hearts. 

“Oh, my Queen”, Jimin whimpers and drops his head into the crook of your neck. He hugs you against his chest, forcing your desperate hips to slow down. Like this, he is deep inside you while your movements are reduced to movements back and forth. 

“Jimin”, you whimper, dropping your own head as your arms close around him. He rubs against the most sensitive spots this way, reminding you how wonderful it felt to be with him. 

“I love you”, Jimin presses out, twisting your dress at your back to pull you closer.

“I love you too”, you answer him, spilling tears while your warmth convulses around his length.

“I love you so much”, Jimin sobs, squeezing you tightly.

“I love you too”, you moan, twisting his hair, “I want to be so much closer.”

“Me too. Oh me too, it isn’t enough”, Jimin croaks and grabs your behind just to press you against him. Your clit rubs against his toned stomach, his cock bends just right to stimulate your favourite spots.

You tighten in reaction, struggling with your movements. 

“Ah”, your voice pitches, “ah, Ji-Jimin.” 

“You’re so warm and, and ah…tight”, he keens, “does it hurt?” 

You shake your head vigorously, “no, but it, it brings me close. Please don’t stop.” 

“If you let go, I have to as well.”

You shudder, grabbing for him. You want to hold him so much closer but you can’t. You feel charged in pleasure as if his touch enchants you. 

“I love you, Jimin beloved. I love you, I love you”, you chant, finding it harder and harder to move whilst at the same time, speeding up more and more. You need to be with him. You need to experience sensations only he can make you feel. You need all of it. You need him and him and him.

“I love you too. I love you, so much”, he answers you each time a new confession of your deepest feelings roll off your tongue. He means it more and more with every repetition, finding it hard to function when you feel so good. His toes keep curling, he keeps gasping for air between his pitched moans.

“I have to let go”, you confess, muffling your desperate moans in his neck.

“Please don’t hold back, I need it”, he begs, squeezing your hips.

“Jimin”, you moan, letting go of the tension. 

“___”, Jimin follows instantly, spilling tears as his arms cradle you tightly.

You and he had orgasms more intense in your time together. Orgasms which left you disoriented and out of breath and yet somehow the high you share today feels the most intense a high has ever felt. You and he stood at the edge of the cliff, you tasted how it would feel to live without each other. So to be finally reconnected and to share such a vulnerable state with each other feels like medicine to you and him.  

You are finally together again. The painful loneliness is no more. 

You stay seated on Jimin after your highs died down, sharing silence. You fill it with heavy breaths and small whimpers of recovery. Jimin does the same, holding you so tightly without once moving his hands from the spots he has grabbed. He needs to make sure that you stay with him, that he can truly live out the full potential of the hug.

“Do you feel alright?” he checks up on you 

“I feel so good. You?”

“I feel so good”, he says and exhales shakily, “I don’t want you to leave again”, he whispers.

“I do not wish to leave”, you answer him, squeezing him gently, “I will tell Thranduin that I do not wish to marry him. I never did.” 

“I’m so happy to hear that. My heart ached unbearably these past months”, Jimin says and squeezes you back, “my beloved ___, don’t ever push me away again.”

You shake your head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for causing you so much grief. I wanted to keep you safe and yet hurt you in the process. It hurt me as well, my Jimin, you mustn’t think that it didn’t.”

“Don’t apologise, I understand.”

You take a deep breath of relief, scratching your nails over his scalp softly.

“It will be difficult. We are still a small country without a strong ally on our side.”

“No matter what will happen, I will stay by your side”, Jimin promises. 

A warm smile curls your lips. You lift your head, meeting his eyes. They soften instantly. His left hand comes up to cup your cheek. He caresses it with his thumb.

“You’re my best friend as well, my Jimin and you’re the man I love. I do not want to hide my feelings anymore”, you say, painting soul-consuming love onto his features.

“I love you too”, he whispers, cradling your cheek in his calloused hand, “and I always will.”

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes halfway.

“Now we must figure out how to get back to the game without causing suspicion”, you say, making Jimin laugh.

“Ah putting on your dress will be a bother”, he chuckles, making you laugh with him.

“As will be your armour. Do not pretend to wear easier clothing”, you tease him, basking in how much more he laughs because of it.

Now everything is truly right in the world again.

You invite Thranduin into the garden for a conversation come the next day. You were a little sad to see him go because he had the potential to become a great friend, but more than anything you were excited for what was to come. You will be with Jimin and that is the sweetest future you can imagine.

“I think that I might not be ready for new marriage yet. The loss of my late husband affects me deeper than I thought it does”, you tell Thranduin.

You expected Thranduin to meet your confession with shock and disbelief, but instead he is smiling. 

“I understand”, he says, “but you mustn’t feel as if you needed to lie to me.”

“What are you saying?”

“I know when someone’s heart is already taken. I can advise you to follow it, even when he is merely your guard.”

“Oh. Heavens, I- how did you…”

Thranduin laughs.

“It is as simple as that I was on the way to the private chambers when I passed the broom cabinet as you…well, I am certain that you are aware of what you did.”

“Oh by the heavens, this is humiliating. I must apologise. Such behaviour isn’t like that of a Queen.”

“Fret not. From one ruler to another, I can keep a secret. However, I wish that your love can be public soon. He seems very fond of you and very protective as well. He would make a good husband for you, Your Highness.”

You fluster, “I thank you Sire, for keeping this secret and for understanding. I deeply regret if I gave you hopes of a future together.”

“There is nothing to apologise. I came here to meet the wonderful Queen of Windfell and I will leave having made a new friend. If that is what you desire as well, that is.”

You smile. 

“I like the sound of that. I grew quite fond of you as a friend.”

“Then it is decided. From this day forward, Windfell and Dragonrock are united by friendship. We will aid each other in times of need, stand side by side in battle and trade with our countries’ finest goods. And we shall meet up for more Stickball. I must win at least once." 

You laugh, "I am quite certain that you will, Sire. And I cannot wait to meet you again. You are always a welcome guest at Windfell.'

“As are you on Dragonrock. I must show you around the capital then and the white sand dunes.” 

“Yes, I would enjoy this a great deal. I will try coconuts as well.”

Thranduin laughs, nodding his head, “you must bring your knight with you then.”

Your cheek feel hot, your heart flutters.

“Heavens”, you murmur, fanning air to your face. 

Thranduin chuckles fondly. 

“So it is decided then. Our nations are united by friendship. Shall we shake hands on it or will your knight slap my hand away again?”

You laugh, “I am sure that he can excuse a friendly handshake.”

You enter the throne room. It is busy with the court. They bow as you pass them.

“Frigga!”

Conversation dies down now that you are talking. 

“Yes, my Queen?”

“Send word to every possible suitor that I have decided to stop looking for one.” 

“My Queen, I don’t understand.”

“It is easy, dear Frigga. I have found my husband.”

Jimin stiffens up in his chair, feeling his heart sink. You promised him that you would send Thranduin away and yet you come back bearing news of marriage. His heart is shattered and he feels like death would be easier to bear.

“Oh truly that is wonderful-”, Frigga stops in her celebrations when outside your window, Thranduin leaves Windfell on his dragon, “-but why is he leaving?”

“Oh no, you misunderstand. Windfell gained a loyal and strong friend in Dragonrock. I will visit his country soon and we shall seal our friendship bond with a contract. But he is not who I want to marry”, you say, walking up the stairs to your throne. 

“My Queen, I don’t understand. Who caught your eye then?”

You smile. 

“Jimin.”

The court gasps, staring at the baffled guard. Jimin stares at you with disbelief on his features.

“If you feel the same as me and it is what you want as well, come up here and allow me to make you my husband.”

“What are you saying?” Jimin gets out. He is already crying.

“You heard me”, you say and laugh in unbearable happiness, “come up here and be my husband.”

Jimin squeaks and jumps into a sprint. He takes two steps at a time. You laugh with him, welcoming him with open arms. You squeak when seconds later, he sweeps you off your feet to twirl you and him as squeals of contagious happiness leave him. 

“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?” he asks, beaming up at you.

“As certain as breathing is, my beloved Jimin.”

“Oh my beloved ___”, he gets out and kisses you.

And to your happy surprise, the court celebrates with cheers and laughter. It may be terribly confused, but your happiness was truly contagious. Frigga exchanges a knowing and happy look with your maids. It was about time you and your knight showed the world your feelings. She had hoped that you would.

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Permission (Spike x y/n)

Requested: Yep. @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation

TW: Smut. A lot of smutty smut.

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

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The TV plays in the background. Canned laughter and rehearsed lines contrast the mood and actions in the room. The air is heavy. The room is scented of spice and musk.

You run your hands up to Spike’s hair as your mouth gets lost in a torrent of lust and wanton desire. His hands hold you tight as you straddle him on the sofa. You come up for air, soft pants with heavy eye contact.

“You like that, love?” He spanks your ass and gives it a tight squeeze.

You let out a soft moan, inviting him for more.

His member is hard and tight against his jeans. You tease him by creating friction between your underwear and the top of his jeans. He leans his head back, enjoying the taunting. Preparing himself for what’s to come.

You lean in for another kiss and instead Spike trails his mouth down your neck. He leaves love bites on his way to your collar bone where he works steadily to create a hickey.

Once done he leans back to admire his handy works, “Mine.” He whispers.

You continue to ride him, fully clothed, in an attempt to ease some of your own lust.

“I want more.” You croon.

He turns and pushes you onto the couch roughly, your back to the soft material. You gasp as you go down.

He hikes up your skirt and makes quick work of your underwear. His hand finds your slick and plays with your slit. You bite down a moan. He gently finds your opening and inserts a finger. His thrusts are steady, long, and deep. You moan at his ministrations.

“Let’s see if my girl can take two.”

He works on inserting another finger, stretching you to your max.

“Gotta gets you ready for the main course.”

You are full and lost in desire. He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out. You count your breaths to stay sane. Without warning her curls his fingers making you see stars.

Spike has decided he wants to make you orgasm multiple times tonight. He is relentless with his fingers, making sure that you’re deep in pleasure.

“Do you like that, love? Am I making you feel good?”

You can barely answer, your brain in a fog. You babble an answer which is incomprehensible and makes Spike laugh.

“Shall we pick up the pace? Can you take it?”

As promised, he moves his hand faster, curling his fingers when inside. He uses his other hand to massage circle on your clit. He is deliberate with his movements matching his thrust with the pressure he is placing on your clitoris. You’re a mess. You can barely breathe, holding onto the sofa for dear life.

He is consistent and persevering. He mumbles dirty words to you, lost in his own pleasure. You can feel your insides tighten. Your abdomen feels tight and ready to burst. You try to warn Spike, but that was his goal. He wanted to get you off with his fingers and make sure you’re hazed out with pleasure before he gave you the main course.

You feel something snap, electricity courses through your brain. It hits your pleasure point, and you gasp in shock followed by a slew of loud moans. You’re still trying to regain yourself when you feel Spike pull you up.

“Come on, we’re not done yet.”

Your legs are jelly, so you struggle to stand up, still fucked out and lost. Spike smirks at your demeanor. His pride and joy. He grabs you and carries you down to the bedroom. He throws you on the bed, rough and aggressive. You gasp in surprise. By his actions, you could tell that tonight would be an intense night. So, buckle up.

You try to make quick work of your clothes but Spike is already naked and impatient. He walks up to you and tears your clothes off. Shreds of fabric all over his bedroom floor. You scowl but he dismisses you.

He lays down face up, his erection standing up and proud. You knew what he wanted. You put your hair to the side and lean down to give him sloppy head.

Your mouth envelopes his penis. Hot and moist. You work your way down slowly, reminding yourself of his size and girth. You bob up and down, up and down, setting a steady rhythm. Spike’s head is tossed back, eyes shut. He loved feeling your mouth on him. If he didn’t have other plans for you, he would finish in your mouth.

You slither your tongue against his tip tasting his precum. You give it a little kiss and shove his length back into your mouth. Spike becomes impatient, desperate and presses your head down. He wants you to choke. He wants you to gag. You oblige. Tears prick your eyes as you let him find his pleasure. He lets go and you come up for air, gasping.

“Good girl.” He praises you.

You lean so as to take him back into your mouth, but he pulls your hair, stopping you. You look at him confused.

“Lay down.” He commands.

You lay on your back waiting for his next command. He straddles your torso and places his cock against your breasts. You were catching on. You press your breasts together for him to pleasure himself. You spit in between your breasts to give him lubrication.

He thrusts his penis against your breasts roughly. He wanted to feel as much pleasure as possible. You couldn’t lie, looking up at him with his penis so close to you made you feel weak and wet. You wanted to pleasure him as much as possible cause you knew he would reward you well.

You open your mouth to catch the tip of his penis when he thrusts up. He is steady and consistent in his thrusts. He grunts as he finds his pace. Suddenly he stops, remembering his plans for the night.

He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead before settling himself in between your legs.

“So wet. All for me?” He teases. “You nasty, bird.”

He pulls your body down the bed closer to the edge. It was time to worship. He nuzzles his head in between your legs, taking in your scent. He licks your clitoris, shy and chaste. He traces a longer lick on your slit, inviting himself in. He is focused as he licks circles around your clit, playing with pressure and movement.

You’re a moaning mess. You love when he gave you head but you always forgot how intense it could be.

His tongue finds your hole and wanders inside. He moves his tongue inside you. You’re seeing stars. He makes sure to place pressure on your clitoris with his hands as he licks your insides. His face is covered with your slick and he loves it. He can’t get enough of you. You’re impatient and grab his head. You want him to make you come right that instant. To which he gives you a smack on your hip, teaching you who’s in control. You stay still, pliant and ready. He takes his time eating you out. His tongue returns to your clitoris. He trails long circles around it. Adding pressure on and off, on and off. You can feel your body levitating from the pleasure. You’re caught up in the moment and want this to last forever.

He introduces two fingers in you while he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. He had plans to make you cum as many ways as he could. You were seeing stars. You were gone with the movement and you stayed that way.

His fingers pick up the pace. His tongue is relentless in putting pressure on your clit. You gasp for air. You knew it was coming. You wanted to be prepared for your orgasm. However, in his last thrust he curled his fingers hitting your G-Spot and it sent you. You’re a screaming moaning mess. Your eyes water from the intensity of the orgasm. Your body convulses and lifts up from the bed.

Spike places a hand on your abdomen to keep you in place. He refuses to stop his ministrations. He wants you to feel it all. He wants to ride that orgasm all the way to the end.

You eventually come down form your high, spent and tired. Spike smiles and wipes his face with a nearby towel.

“You look so pretty when you cum.”

You look up at him, fucked out, dazed and pleasured. You inch up towards your pillow getting ready to sleep.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m not done with you.” He pulls you by your leg.

You look up at him surprised and a little scared. He grins as he approaches you. He leans down for a kiss.

“I’m not done getting what I want. Lay on your stomach.”

You slowly oblige, concerned about what’s coming next but excited that there’s more.

Spike pulls out massage oil from the nightstand nearby. He straddles you, puts some oil on your back and starts massaging you. You sigh. You could get used to this. He makes sure to work your shoulders and lower back. Places that he knows you hold the most tension. He waits until you’re relaxed and satiated to slip hi cock in between your folds. You gasp in surprise and follow it with a moan. His girth and length filling you.

His favorite position was to take you from behind while you lay on your stomach. He could get so much more space to move, a nice view of your ass, and easy access to your hair.

He thrust slow into your cunt. Soft and caring. Making you feel safe. He is deliberate in his strokes, letting you get accustomed to his size. He smiles at himself and without a warning lays down a loud slap on your base ass. You yelp. He follows it with another, and another. He starts to pick up the pace, riding you hard. You can feel him fill you to the hilt. Your moans fill the room. Embarrassed, even after everything he’s done to you, you hide your face in a pillow to keep quiet.

“Oh no you don’t.” He grabs, twists your hair in his hand and pulls. “I want to hear how good I’m fucking you.”

You’re caught in limp kitten mode. At his mercy. He fucks you rough and long. He rides you until you’re sore and begging for release. He wants to be like this forever. Powerful and full of lust. The room is filled with the sound of your moans and the harsh sounds of meat slapping together. He eventually lets you go to land more slaps on your ass. You’re begging for more. He obliges. You loved when he dominated you. It made you feel wanted, dirty, and satiated.

Without a warning he pulls out. You groan in desperation.

He man handles you and flips you on your back. He lifts your legs and folds you in a mating press. Without missing a beat, he slips himself back inside you and fucks you hard. His hips hitting against yours in a steady rhythm. He grunts and huffs as he fills you up time and time again. You’re a pitch away from screaming in pleasure. Your moans are loud and non-stop.

He makes sure to be in control not just of your pleasure but of your body. You start begging for release.

“Can I come. Please, can I come?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Be good for me.”

You nod and hold on. Your brain only understands pleasure and the need to hold onto your orgasm. He thrusts hard and long. He wants you to remember the feeling and shape of his penis inside of you. He feels himself getting closer and debates if to finish inside you. He leans down and bites down on your shoulder making sure to leave another mark. He wants people to know what transpired here today.

“Come.” He commands.

As if in cue you unravel under him. You come undone in a seeping heap of moans and thrashing. You’re no longer in control of your body. You’re his to use and his to have.

He lets you catch your breath, barely, before he pulls you up.

“Get up. On your knees.” He comands you to kneel before him.

You do as he says. You look up to him, seeing him jack off his penis furiously in front of your face. You knew what he wanted. You open your mouth and without fail he fills your mouth and face with his cum. You take it all in. Filthy, dirty and pleasurable.

You kneel there for a couple of seconds before Spike gets a towel to clean your face. He is gentle and loving, a contrast to his earlier behavior. Once cleaned he leans in for a gentle kiss,. Soft and loving. You open your eyes and smile.

“Can I rest now?”

“Yes, my love.”

“Did I do good?”

“You did amazing. You’re such a good girl.”

You smile as you get into bed. He makes sure that you’re tucked in before he gets into bed. He scooches over to you. You lean your head against his chest and before he can praise you again, you’re asleep in his arms.

[star-angelluv]

authors note: hellooo! someone had requested for a soft nate jacobs piece and the draft got deleted so if u were that person i am so sorry but I hope this finds you! :) also I’m so sorry for how long it’s taking me to make these I’ll try to post as consistent as possible! Pls enjoy this one in the meantime!

Tenderness is a Virtue.

The reminiscing air of what was left of summer flew through your window with a soft sound.

Closing your textbook, you let out a small sigh of relief. Wanting to get enough hours of sleep before class the following day, you shifted your body and let it finally be at ease.

Though none of it lasted long.

The soft ping of your phone rang through the room and its soft light luminated a tiny section of your bedroom ceiling.

Groaning softly you moved your body to scan the screen.

“Wyd?.” -nate

You stared at the message for a moment, but ultimately settled that you were to answer him back in the morning as you moved back to your previous position.

Again, it didn’t last long before your phone rang softly.

Letting out a nosier groan this time, you moved to answer the phone ready with an irked greeting to whom you knew was on the other line.

“I’m outside.” Was the first and only thing he said in a soft hurried voice before he hung up.

Agitated and incredibly confused you quickly put on a pair of slippers and looked outside your bedroom window.

From there, you spotted Nate’s truck parked right infront of your house.

Grabbing your phone you dialed him back.

He picked up on the first ring.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” We’re the first words you spoke to him that night.

“Well hello to you to moody.” Was what he said and you swore you could hear a smirk in his words.

“Nate it’s 2 in the morning, why the hell are you here-“

“Alright, Jesus fucking Christ calm down a bit, yeah?”

You groaned softly for what seemed like the tenth time of the night.

“Just trust me alright? And get your ass down here, the foods getting cold.” There was the shit eating grin in his voice again.

Your annoyance shifted into curiosity and by the time you were to respond he had hung up.

Grabbing a hoodie and carefully moving to the front door as to not wake your parents, you reached the front door and stepped outside.

Running carefully to his truck you reached the passenger door and opened it.

“Hi.” Was the only thing he said as he watched your soft gaze fall onto the objects in the passenger seat.

Your gaze shifted to meet his eyes, “hey.”

“You gonna come in or are you gonna stand there looking at me like that?” He asked with a soft teasing tone in his voice.

Hesitantly you exhaled softly.

“I don’t know Nate, there’s class tomorrow and I can’t risk not sleeping just because you decided to go on a joy ride.” You said in a slightly annoyed as he took it all in meanwhile you rambled.

“And even if I wanted to, if my parents see that I’m not home they’ll ground me-”

“Please?”

You turned your eyes to stare at his soft expression.

“I know it’s late as shit right now and I’m sorry for waking you up but I really need you right now, so if you could just get in the fucking car please.” He said in a pitiful tone.

Part of you felt a slight sense to be there for him, and the other small fraction felt like slamming the car door shut.

With a resigned sigh you slid into the passenger seat.

He smiled softly at you as you buckled your seatbelt.

“Thank you.” He whispered afraid his voice would break the brittle silence between you two.

You turned to him and nodded softly, a silent reassurance.

“So where are wo going?” You asked.

“It’s a surprise.” He said grinning and starting the car.

“Nate.” You groaned his name softly and scrunched your nose at his words.

“Nope, not telling you, but relax alright? All you have to do is sit your pretty little butt in that seat.” He said still grinning and teasing.

You shook your head smiling softly and leaning back into your seat.

———

After a short drive, he turned onto a side street, then another, weaving through the city until you reached a small, secluded rooftop parking lot with a stunning view of the city skyline. Nate parked the car and turned to you, eyes softening as he looked at you.

“Come on,” he said, his voice gentler than usual as he hopped out of the car. You followed, your curiosity growing as he opened the trunk and pulled out a small basket.

He caught your confused expression and offered a quiet smile. "Trust me," he said, guiding you to the edge of the rooftop where he spread out a blanket on the cool concrete.

"Picnic on the roof?" you asked, a bit surprised by the thoughtfulness behind it.

"Picnic on the roof," he confirmed, carefully unpacking the basket. He handed you a sandwich, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and you noticed how deliberate and careful his movements were.

“Thank you.” You whispered sweetly.

He nods softly with a small smile on his face. “I know we’ve been tiring yourself out lately so I wanted to do something for us, figured we could use a break even if it’s just a night,” he admitted dropping normal smug tone to a more tender one towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him planing this all out.

“This is really nice, thank you,” you said, your heart warming.

His lips pulled upwards into an adoring smile, “I’m glad, I was worried you were going to think it was dumb or something.”

You shook your head softly as you bit into the sandwich.

You both ate and fell into conversation, chatting about everything from school to football.

“You know we have a game next Friday,” he spoke.

You nodded your head, “yeah, I heard. Biggest game of the year right?”

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice a bit softer than usual.

He paused for a moment as to decide how to say his next words. “You should come.”

You blinked, a bit surprised. “To the game?”

He nodded, looking almost shy for a moment, a side of Nate you weren’t used to seeing.

There was something in his tone, a quiet sincerity that made your chest tighten a little. “Really?” you asked, wanting to make sure you hadn’t misunderstood.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “It’d be nice to have someone there who... who actually cares, you know?”

You thought your heart would actually explode at that point hearing how he aches for you to be there.

“I’ll be there,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.”

He smiled, a genuine smile. Thanks, it’ll be nice seeing you in the stands instead of mad at me,” he says teasingly.

You shook your head softly and laughed softly, “you’re horrible,” you said still shaking your head and hiding the soft tint that rose to your cheeks.

———

Pulling up to your house and turning off the engine, Nate turned to you, the soft radio music filling the space.

You smiled softly at him and reached to open the car door to exit but turned to look at him with a soft smile.

“You know you can’t just show up to my house and make me a picnic every time we fight,” you said softly and teasingly.

He smiled softly and reached to cup your cheek to bring your face towards him.

“I know,” he said in a whisper as your faces were inches apart.

“But,” he said as he got closer.

“There’s always painting, museums, a movie, and I suppose if everything else fails I’ll just do this,” he said as his gaze fell to your lips while he held both your cheeks softly and pulled them so your lips met his.

The kiss was soft and tender, no lust, just you and him.

As you pulled away softly you peck right below his lip lightly.

“You’re dumb,” you said in a whisper tone.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be sweet girl.” He said with an adoring smile.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

Drunk reader meets rafe while he’s talking to his friends. Your drunken status leaves you falling asleep on his lap with him taking you back to his house so your safe

but you came right on time

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption

summary: after having one too many drinks, you find yourself talking to outerbanks’ golden boy.

authors note: guys i’m so sorry for not updating but with school starting last week, i’m literally dying rn. i changed it up just a tad :) thank you for the request though and i really hope you enjoy!

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

you were currently sat on the couch with a cup of cheap beer in your hand, waiting on your friend to return from wherever she’d gone. she was your ride after all.

“dude, shes smokin’ hot,” you heard a boy say from your right. you then saw him point to a girl across the room. he was standing with a green beer bottle in hand while talking to another guy sat right next to you.

the boy next to you was very pretty. he also looked very troubled.

“are you okay?” you drunkenly asked, trying to provide him some sort of comfort.

his blank expression immediately morphed into one your couldn’t quite make out when he looked towards you. “what?”

you had thought it was a pretty straightforward question. “are you okay?” you repeated a little louder this time incase he couldn’t hear over the music.

he looked almost confused. “yes? why do you ask?”

you opted for a simple shrug before you took another sip of your drink. “you look upset,” you replied. “jus’ wanted to see if you were alright.” then you held out a hand in front of you. “y/n.”

he hesitantly took it. “rafe.”

“cool name,” you slurred out. once your hands were freed from one another, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled into his side in desperate need of a nap.

you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to slowly find sleep.

rafe hadn’t even noticed, still engaged in a conversation with topper and kelce. but when he did, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect you in your vulnerable state. he gently grabbed the cup from your hand and placed it on the table along with his own. “i think ‘m gonna get going,” he alerted the other two.

“so soon?” kelce asked. “it’s just getting started.”

topper chuckled and hit the boys chest. “you gonna take her to your place or somethin’?”

“what else am i supposed to do? leave her here?” he asked with a quirked brow.

the blonde smirked. “i’m sure any other guy here would gladly take her home.”

“you’re disgusting, top,” kelce grimaced.

rafe simply rolled his eyes, not wanting to engage in a conversation with the idiot he called his best friend. he slowly stood up while making sure you wouldn’t fall over. once he was up on his feet, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “hey.”

you grumbled and stirred slightly. “what?”

“c’mon. ‘m gonna take you to my place, okay? i need you to follow me though,” he said softly, grabbing your hands and gently pulling you up on your feet. you drunkenly stumbled into his chest before finally gaining balance. “ready?” he asked as he snaked a hand around your waist for stability.

you nodded and leaned into him a little closer as you walked towards his car. once you arrived without falling over, he opened the passenger door and helped you get in and buckle up before shutting it and doing the same for himself.

fortunately, the ride to the cameron residence was short.

and to make things even better, his parents weren’t home. nor were his sisters.

with his assistance, you two had successfully made it up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“here,” he said, handing her an unopened bottle of water on his bedside table he’d placed there before he left earlier in the day. “take a seat and drink it.”

you groaned, closing your eyes as you sat down. “i don’t like water.”

his brow raised in confusion. “you don’t like water?”

you immediately shook your head slowly to avoid worsening your headache. “no. too bland.”

he couldn’t help but chuckle. “well, i need you to drink a little bit then you can head to bed.” he began to rummage through his drawers before dropping something onto the mattress next to her. “here. change into these. if you need anything, i’m gonna go get some ibuprofen from the kitchen.”

you nodded lazily and waited until he closed the door behind himself to change into the clothes.

when he returned, he knocked softly and asked a soft, “can i come in?” when he got no answer, he slowly opened the door to find you knocked out already. you were dressed in his hoodie and sweats that absolutely swallowed you. he glanced over at the water bottle as he headed to the closet, noticing you’d taken a few sips. he pulled out a soft blanket from inside and draped it over you in hopes of making you as comfortable as possible.

the thought of you not being here with him right now and having someone else take you home to do only god knows what to you was making his blood boil. it didn’t matter though. after all, you were here with him.

he grabbed out another blanket from the college and a pillow, making his bed for the night on the floor. if this were anyone else he was sleeping on the ground for, he’d be pissed. but knowing you were here and protected by him somehow just made him feel a whole lot better.

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (Part IV)

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART V, PART VI

Plot Overview:

Y/N feels betrayed by Chan after discovering something that deepens her distrust of him. This leads to a heated encounter that forces them to confront their emotions and the powerful, unspoken connection between them. Through this, they form an unbreakable bond, ready to face whatever challenges come their way together.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, StrayKids!Mafia, Mafia!AU, Mature content, Explicit language, Graphic sexual content, Intense Emotional Themes, Power Dynamics, Consent and Control Issues, SMUT.

Author Note:

Well, here we are—another chapter in the books! I can’t believe how much fun (and chaos) this story has brought me so far. Honestly, it’s been a rollercoaster writing this, and I hope you all are hanging on for the ride. Your support has been amazing, and I’m so grateful for every comment, like, and message. You’re all the best! 💖

And yes, you read that right—the spice chapter is finally here! 🔥 Things are getting intense, and trust me, we’re just getting started! I hope you’re enjoying the story as much as I am. So please, keep the feedback coming—good, bad, or somewhere in between, I’m here for all of it. Can’t wait to see what you think of what’s coming next. Buckle up, it’s going to be a wild ride! ✨

⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆

You’ve already made the promise. You’ve already given your word. You pledged to Chan—no more pretending. No more playing the part of the obedient daughter, standing by your father’s side, pretending that his empire was your future. That future is over. You made your decision when you chose to ally with the Stray Kids Mafia. You chose to help bring down your father’s empire, to help Chan dismantle everything Victor had built so you could rebuild it in your own image. You’ve been living that promise, day by day.

But now—now things feel different.

The report on the screen hits hard. Victor’s empire has taken another critical blow. A key territory lost, and your father’s most trusted allies, those you thought were immovable, have betrayed him. They’ve joined Chan, thrown their loyalty behind him, and now the cracks are wider than ever. Your father’s grip is slipping. You should feel satisfaction, but instead, a cold knot of anger tightens in your stomach.

You knew the war was coming. You knew things would break. You’d always known this was going to end in flames. You signed up for that. But now… now it feels like the fire is burning too fast. And you weren’t ready for the sharp sting of betrayal.

Because hidden in the middle of this intel report is something you didn’t expect—something Chan had kept from you. A secret plan. A major offensive, one so brutal it’s designed not just to weaken your father, but to completely destroy him.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the details flash across the screen. Chan’s plan isn’t just about seizing power—it’s about annihilating your father’s last remaining strongholds, leaving him with nothing but ruin. And Chan kept this from you.

You trusted him. You told yourself that you were in this together. You promised him that you would help him tear your father’s empire apart, brick by brick. You promised him loyalty, but this—this was something else.

You lean forward, hands shaking as you dig deeper into the files, hoping this is a mistake. But it’s not. The timeline matches. This attack is scheduled for the day after tomorrow—when your father will still be reeling from the betrayal, when he won’t be able to mount any meaningful defense. And all the while, you had no idea.

The reality sinks in slowly. Chan has been working on this behind your back. Even after everything you agreed to, he made this decision alone, without consulting you, without bringing you into the fold. There was no partnership here, no shared vision. This was his plan, and you were just a tool he used to get what he wanted.

You can feel the anger swelling in you—sharp, bitter, furious. But beneath that anger is something else. There’s a pang of something you’re reluctant to name, something that cuts deeper than any betrayal. It’s the realization that despite your promises, despite everything you’ve done so far, you are still playing a part in someone else’s game. Chan’s game.

For a moment, the weight of it all presses down on you. You told yourself this was the way forward. This was the future you could shape. But now, standing here with this knowledge, it feels like the last remnants of control you thought you had are slipping away.

You’ve given up everything—your allegiance, your family, your past—for this. And now Chan has taken that trust and turned it into a strategy, a move to consolidate his power, without ever bringing you into the process.

And yet… you still can’t deny it. There’s something about his ambition, his vision, that calls to you. There’s something magnetic about the way he operates, how he always seems to be five steps ahead. You wanted this, didn’t you? To be part of something bigger. To rise above your father’s shadow.

But you didn’t want this. Not like this. Not with him keeping secrets from you.

You grab the file, slamming it closed in frustration, your thoughts racing. You can’t just turn back now. You’ve already made your choice, even if it feels like you’ve lost yourself somewhere in the process. You promised Chan you’d help him tear down Victor’s empire. You promised him that you would walk beside him as an ally, not a pawn.

But now, with this hidden plan, with this secret attack, you’re not sure where you stand anymore. How much of your control has been an illusion all along?

You have a choice to make. Stay loyal to Chan and see this through, even if it means continuing to help him destroy everything you once held dear… or walk away, trying to salvage whatever is left of your family’s legacy, even if that means betraying the promise you made.

But in your heart, you know. There’s no turning back. You’ve already crossed the line.

You stand in front of the computer, your fingers hovering over the keys as the weight of your decision crashes over you. Chan’s plan, the one he kept hidden from you, is more than just strategic—it’s personal. You promised him you’d help him take down Victor’s empire, but what you didn’t know was that Chan had been preparing for a move that would change everything, and he didn’t share it with you.

It feels like betrayal. You’re not just another player in his game, but that’s how he’s treated you. And it pisses you off. You wanted to make your own choices, to decide how far you’d go. Not be caught in the middle of a game you didn’t agree to.

So you act. You start working to warn your father’s allies, to slow Chan’s plan down. This isn’t just about strategy anymore; it’s about you taking control of the narrative, about reclaiming your autonomy in this twisted situation.

But as the message is ready to send, you hear the door creak open behind you. The soft, familiar sound of his presence fills the room, and your stomach flips, caught between anger and something far more dangerous.

Chan’s footsteps are silent as he approaches, his gaze locking onto you the moment you turn. “What are you doing?” His voice is calm, but the undercurrent of something darker flows just beneath it.

You stand your ground, refusing to show any sign of hesitation. “Trying to stop you,” you say, your voice clipped. “You kept this from me, Chan. This move of yours, it’s reckless. It’s personal. You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I wouldn’t care?”

He steps closer, his gaze flickering over your face. “I never wanted you to be part of this from the start,” he says, his voice softening just enough to show the sincerity behind his words. “You’re not supposed to feel anything. You’re supposed to help me bring this empire down. Help me take control of what’s left.”

You scoff, the anger rising again. “You think I can just throw away everything I know, everything I’ve worked for, and help you destroy my own father’s empire without a damn word about it? Without even telling me what you’re planning? You lied to me, Chan. You hid things from me.”

His eyes darken, but there’s no defensiveness in his expression. Instead, there’s something else—something almost regretful, and a flicker of vulnerability that catches you off guard. “I didn’t hide it because I don’t trust you. I hid it because I didn’t want you to feel like you had to make a choice. This is more than just strategy, Y/N. It’s survival. It’s about taking down what’s broken. But I never wanted to put that weight on you. Not like this.”

You turn away, frustration bubbling inside you. The way he says it—like he’s trying to protect you from the mess he’s made. You hate it. You don’t need his protection. But still, that trace of vulnerability in his voice sticks with you.

“I don’t need your protection,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I never asked for it.”

Chan moves behind you then, his presence engulfing the space between you. He leans close, the warmth of his body radiating against your back as he places a hand on the desk, trapping you between it and him. “I know you didn’t ask for it. But you’re still here,” he says, his voice low and dangerously close to your ear. “You’re still a part of this. You always have been. And the moment you decided to side with me, you stepped into something bigger than either of us.”

You shiver, your body instinctively reacting to his proximity. The tension between you both crackles, not just from the unspoken words but from something much deeper, much more dangerous. This isn’t just about power or control anymore. It’s about everything that’s simmered between you both, everything that’s been building up.

“You never gave me a choice,” you bite out, but even as you say it, you can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice, the way he touches you without touching you, makes it hard to focus on the anger.

“I never wanted to give you a choice,” he murmurs, his breath warm on the side of your neck. “I wanted you with me. Because of you, not just your help. You’re not just part of this plan, Y/N. You’re my plan.” His lips brush against your skin as he speaks, sending a rush of heat through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

The words, the closeness, it’s all too much. It makes the space between you feel impossibly small, and you find yourself leaning back into him instinctively. You’re still angry, still frustrated, but something else is rising too. Something that’s impossible to ignore.

“I’m not just yours to control, Chan,” you breathe, your voice trembling with the weight of your words.

“No,” he agrees softly, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “But you will be. You’ve already made that choice, Y/N. The moment you decided to work with me, you were part of this. Whether you like it or not.”

You meet his gaze, fire and frustration burning behind your eyes, but the undeniable chemistry, the magnetic pull between you, is more than you can handle. His fingers slide up your back, teasing the edge of your shirt, and you shiver at the sensation. You want to push him away, to tell him to stop, but you can’t. Not when his touch makes every nerve in your body hum with need.

“I’m still angry,” you say, your voice low, but there’s something else beneath the words—something raw. “I’m still pissed off that you kept this from me.”

“I know,” he replies, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw. “But you’re also here, Y/N. And I can’t ignore the way you’re looking at me.”

Before you can respond, he captures your lips in a kiss that’s softer than the fury of your words, but no less intense. The kiss deepens as he pulls you closer, and you lose yourself in the heat of it—the way he holds you like you’re the only thing that matters.

Your mind still rebels against the way he’s controlled so much of this, but your body? Your body is telling you something else. Something deeper, something more primal.

And as his hands slide under your shirt, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is the only way forward for you both—surrendering not just to what he’s offering, but to the fire that’s been building between you from the moment you met.

You break the kiss, your breath ragged, chest rising and falling in quick succession. The taste of him lingers on your lips, but your mind is screaming at you to pull away—to regain control before you lose yourself completely. You shove him back, though the force feels half-hearted, your hands trembling as you push against his chest.

“Stop,” you rasp, your voice sharp as you take a step back, putting a little distance between you both. Your pulse is still racing, the tension between you palpable, but there’s something else now. Something heavier.

Chan doesn’t immediately pull away, his expression unreadable, but his eyes, those dark eyes, burn through you. His jaw is clenched, and for a moment, he looks like he’s considering something dangerous. But he doesn’t give in to the silence.

“So that’s it?” His voice is low, almost taunting. “You’re just going to walk away now? After everything?”

You shake your head, trying to steady your breath, to reclaim some semblance of the control you need. You didn’t come here to let him break you—not like this, not when you still haven’t made a damn decision.

“No,” you say, your voice firmer, but your words feel hollow in the thick air. “I’m not walking away. But I won’t just let you manipulate me, Chan.”

He steps closer again, the space between you shrinking until you’re forced to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. You’re standing on the edge, the pull of him undeniable, but this time, you don’t feel like you can trust yourself around him.

“I’m not manipulating you,” he replies, his voice smooth, almost soothing—but you can hear the edge beneath it. “But I am challenging you. You think this is just about your father’s empire, but it’s not. This is about us. About what we really want.”

You feel your throat tighten, and for a moment, you hate that he’s right. You told yourself you could keep pretending, keep being the cold, calculating player in this game. But here you are, letting yourself be swept away by him, caught between your promise and something much more dangerous.

“Don’t,” you murmur, even as your body betrays you, the heat between you both still crackling in the air. “Don’t pretend this is about anything but power, Chan. You want control. You’ve wanted it from the moment you walked into my life.”

Chan doesn’t flinch at your accusation, his lips twitching into a small, knowing smile. “I’ve always been about control. You should know that by now. But you, Y/N… You think you’re just playing the game. You think you’re in control. But deep down, I think you’re afraid of what will happen when you finally admit you’re not.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words don’t come. Instead, something inside you shifts. The way he’s looking at you, the way he sees right through your defenses—it’s unsettling. But it’s also… freeing. The truth of it makes your chest tighten, the sharp pang of desire mixing with something else you can’t quite name.

“I’m not afraid,” you say, but the uncertainty in your voice makes it clear you’re lying.

He steps even closer now, until his chest is barely a breath away from yours, and you have to fight the urge to close the gap yourself. The heat between you both is suffocating, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you stand your ground, your eyes meeting his.

“You are afraid,” he says softly, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The touch is gentle, but it holds an undeniable possessiveness. “You’re afraid of what’s between us. Of how much you want this, even when you try to convince yourself you don’t.”

The proximity, the way he moves so effortlessly around your defenses, makes your head spin. It’s no longer just about power, about control—it’s about something raw and visceral, something that both repels and pulls you in. You try to fight it, but his words make your pulse race in a way you can’t ignore.

And then, before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches up, gripping the front of his shirt. The motion feels like a betrayal of your own resistance, but it’s also a challenge. You’re testing him. Testing yourself.

“Is this what you want, Chan?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it carries the weight of everything unspoken between you. “To control me? To make me want you, even when I hate myself for it?”

He doesn’t hesitate, his hands cupping your face gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. “No. I don’t want to make you hate yourself. I want you to choose this, Y/N. I want you to stop pretending like you’re above it all. Like you’re not as deep in this as I am.”

Your breath hitches as his thumbs brush against your lips, his touch somehow both comforting and igniting the spark of something far more dangerous. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the intensity of your emotions.

“I know,” he murmurs, leaning in until his breath mingles with yours. “But I think you’re ready for it.”

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, but this kiss is different. It’s not just about power anymore, not just about strategy. It’s about surrender—and about what happens when two forces collide and can’t pull away.

You kiss him back, your hands grabbing at his shirt, your body responding before your mind can catch up. The last of your resistance falters as his hands slide around your waist, pulling you against him. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, and for a moment, nothing else matters. The rest of the world disappears, leaving only the two of you tangled in this chaotic, electric moment.

And then, just as quickly as it started, you pull away again. The air between you both is charged, but the space feels like it’s closing in. You can’t keep pretending you’re in control of this. The game, the rules, the power—it’s all slipping through your fingers. And for the first time, you realize you don’t want to stop.

“Don’t fight it, Y/N,” Chan says, his voice low and commanding. “You don’t have to. Not anymore.”

You meet his gaze, feeling the shift between you both. It’s no longer just about winning. It’s about something more. And as the last remnants of your resistance crumble away, you know there’s no going back.

You swallow, the weight of his words sinking into your chest. You’ve fought him, resisted, told yourself you wouldn’t fall into this. But standing here, under the heat of his stare, you realize the truth. You’ve been fighting the wrong battle.

The power dynamic has always been tangled between you two, each of you playing the game in your own way. But now, as he stands so close to you, his hand lightly grazing your arm, you feel the last of your defenses crumble. It’s not a defeat. It’s a choice.

You glance away, as if avoiding the full force of what you’re about to let happen, but Chan is already stepping into your space. His fingers find the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his gaze once more. There’s no more cold calculation in his eyes, no more power plays. There’s something softer now. Something dangerous, but intimate.

“You think you can keep pretending?” His voice is quieter now, but it cuts through you like a knife. “You don’t have to fight anymore, babygirl. I know what you want.”

His words hit like a spark to tinder. Something inside you flares up, but it’s not anger. It’s not defiance. It’s something darker, more vulnerable. The heat in your chest blooms into something fiercer, more immediate. He sees through you—sees all of it—and in some way, it’s both terrifying and thrilling.

You try to look away, to push him back, but his grip tightens slightly, pulling you closer. Your bodies press together, the heat of his chest against yours. Your hands, trembling, move to his shoulders, but it’s not to push him away anymore. It’s to feel him, to steady yourself against the flood of emotion that’s rising.

“I don’t need this to be easy, Y/N,” he says, his voice low, but filled with something you can’t quite name. The words are a challenge, a dare, but you don’t know if you have the strength to refuse.

But you try, because that’s what you’ve always done. You push against his chest, just enough to create a sliver of space between you. “I’m not some plaything, Chan,” you manage, but your voice cracks, the lie obvious to both of you.

A dark smile curves his lips, and you feel a shiver race down your spine. “I never said you were,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips. “But you sure like to make things difficult. Don’t you?”

The space between you narrows, his lips brushing against yours, a whisper of a kiss that makes your pulse race. You feel yourself leaning into it before you can stop. There’s no going back now.

You suck in a breath, hands still gripping his shirt, your fingers trembling as you try to steady yourself. The room feels small now, the air thick with the tension that’s been building between you two. And for the first time, you realize how close you are to surrendering completely.

“I won’t be one of your pawns, Chan,” you whisper, but the challenge in your words is fading. You don’t have the strength to keep it up.

His lips press against yours in a kiss that’s deeper, harder, as if he’s taking all the answers you won’t say aloud. One of his hands slides down to your waist, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he wants to erase any remaining distance.

The kiss deepens, and something inside you snaps. The fight, the need for control—it slips away like sand between your fingers. You know you’re giving in, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel like losing. It feels like choosing.

Chan pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his lips hovering over yours. “You’re mine now,” he murmurs, his voice a promise. There’s no doubt in his words, no question. He’s claiming you, but it’s not in the way you expected. It’s not forceful. It’s simply… inevitable.

Your breath catches as you meet his gaze. “I’m not some thing to own,” you reply, but it’s not a challenge anymore. It’s a question. You’re asking if this is real, if this is something that could be more than just this moment. But you already know the answer. He’s pulling you under, and you’re allowing it.

Chan’s hand moves to the back of your neck again, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, deliberate strokes. “You’re mine in every way,” he says softly, the words sending a ripple of heat through you. “But you’re also free, Y/N. You’ve always had the power.”

His lips find yours again, and this time, you don’t resist. The kiss is softer now, almost tender, but still charged with that wild energy that neither of you can deny. His hands roam over your body, the touch possessive but gentle, a silent reminder that you’re not just a victim in this game. You’re a willing participant.

“You don’t have to fight it,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under your shirt, caressing the smooth skin of your back. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

The words sink deep into your chest, and you feel something inside you loosen. The last of your resistance falls away, and for the first time, you let yourself truly feel everything—the heat, the hunger, the tension between you both. It’s not just about desire anymore. It’s about something more complex, something more intimate. It’s about connection.

“I’m not afraid,” you breathe, meeting his gaze once more. “But I’m not in control anymore, am I?”

His lips curve into a smile, dark and knowing. “No. But that doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

You feel the shift now, the power dynamic changing, ebbing and flowing between you both. But in this moment, it’s not about who has the power—it’s about giving into it, about allowing yourself to be taken by him and by this thing between you.

And when he kisses you again, this time, you don’t just yield. You give him everything, because you know you can. The tension between you two shifts, and as his lips claim yours with a hunger that mirrors your own, you realize this is the moment—the moment where you stop pretending you don’t feel this.

His hands move over your body with deliberate slowness, tracing the lines of your form as if savoring each curve. There’s an intensity to his touch, an ownership, but it’s not cold. It’s heated, possessive, like he’s learning the feel of you for the first time, yet somehow, he already knows exactly where to touch. His fingers are light but firm, pulling you closer until your bodies are pressed flush together.

“Don’t act like you’re in control,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The playful teasing in his voice isn’t lost on you, and you know—he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. But there’s an undeniable dominance to his tone, a reminder of the power he holds. “You wanted this all along.”

You hate that he’s right, but at the same time, you feel a rush of exhilaration. You wanted this. The subtle push and pull of control, the friction between his dominance and your independence. It’s more than a battle of wills—it’s a dance.

With a sharp tug, he pulls you even closer, his lips brushing against your neck, and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. The heat between you intensifies, and with every brush of his lips, you feel your own self-control begin to slip further. He hasn’t stopped moving, hasn’t stopped claiming space—his hands sliding over the smooth skin of your back, pushing you to lean into him more, as if your bodies belong together.

For a moment, you lose yourself in the sensation. You’re not thinking, not strategizing. There’s no longer a game being played between you two. But then you catch your breath, regaining some clarity, and you pull back just enough to look into his eyes.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to play, Chan,” you say, your voice low, but there’s a steel to it—an edge you’re not quite ready to give up. You push at his chest, just enough to create some space. “You think you can control me, but I’m not some toy for you to bend to your will.”

Chan smirks, his expression dark and unreadable, but there’s an intensity there that speaks volumes. He leans in again, his lips brushing against yours with a quiet force. “I never said you were a toy, Y/N. But you’ve always liked the game, haven’t you?” His words are a challenge, an invitation. “Tell me, babygirl, how far will you let me push you?”

A surge of something sharp rushes through you—defiance, desire, frustration. You tilt your chin up, a slight smile curving your lips as you meet his gaze. “I’ll let you push me as far as I want, Chan. But remember this—I’m still in charge of my own choices.”

His hand moves to your waist, the pressure increasing as he pulls you back into him, the proximity so close you can feel the rapid thrum of his pulse against your skin. “You can say that, but your body’s already betraying you.” His lips graze your throat again, sending a rush of heat through you. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

You feel your resolve begin to crack, but you refuse to let him see it fully. You want this fight to be mutual, even if the lines between control and surrender are starting to blur. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him into another kiss, this time more urgent, more desperate.

“Don’t mistake my resistance for weakness, Chan,” you murmur against his lips, though the words are as much for yourself as they are for him. “I know exactly what I want.”

His grip on you tightens, the sound of your breath mingling as you struggle to keep control of the moment, but it slips through your fingers, piece by piece. His hands wander lower, and you can’t help but arch into him, the heat of his touch making every part of your body ache for more. He senses your response, his smirk growing even more dangerous.

“You’re right,” he whispers, his voice dropping an octave as he presses his lips against your ear. “You know exactly what you want. And right now, you want me.”

You shiver, your body reacting to his words before your mind can catch up. But even as your body surrenders, you refuse to let him think he’s completely won. Not yet. Not entirely.

“You’ve underestimated me,” you whisper back, your voice laced with defiance, but even you can hear the cracks forming. “You’ve only seen one side of me, Chan.”

His gaze sharpens, as if he’s intrigued, his lips curling into a dangerous grin. “Then show me, babygirl. Show me everything.”

With that, the moment shifts again, like a spark igniting the last piece of resistance in you both. Chan’s hands are everywhere now—caressing, exploring, tracing the fire burning beneath your skin. The air is thick with need, the space between you electric as your body finally gives in to the demands you’ve been ignoring for too long.

But just as quickly, he pulls back slightly, his lips hovering over yours, his breath ragged. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them possessively, pulling you against him once more. “You think you’re still in control?” he murmurs, his voice barely a breath. “You’re not, Y/N. You’re already mine.”

The words send a thrill through you, and for the first time in a long while, you let go completely, leaning into him, giving yourself over to the rush of desire, of power slipping away and surrender taking its place.

"I’m my own person, Chan,” you say, your hands slipping under his shirt, exploring the firm muscles of his abdomen, the heat of his skin only intensifying your desire.

His lips graze your neck, sending a shiver down your spine as he murmurs, “But look at you, babygirl. So eager, so beautiful, so fucking mine.”

You couldn’t help but let a soft gasp escape as his words hit you. It was as if he could control your very pulse with just a few utterances. His touch, deliberate and slow, was a force that made you feel things you’d never let yourself before.

With a purposeful ease, he slipped your shirt off, the fabric falling away like a whisper, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, lifting you effortlessly and placing you onto the desk. The movement was fluid, intimate, and powerful—his body positioning himself between your legs with an unspoken dominance that made your heart race.

He cupped your face gently, his fingers tender against your skin, pulling you into his gaze. “Let me in, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Stop fighting it. Let me take care of you. Let me show you what it feels like to be cared for, to be wanted. Let me in… let us be something more than the chaos around us. Don’t fight what’s been between us from the start. Let yourself fall with me. Give us a chance.”

"I’m scared,” you admit, the truth slipping from your lips, a vulnerability you hadn’t allowed yourself to voice before. “Knives and guns are easy, but feelings… feelings aren’t.”

His gaze softens at your confession, a tenderness in his eyes as he leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a spark of warmth against your skin. His hands move with purpose, gently unhooking your bra, his touch slow, deliberate.

“I know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “But I’ll catch you. Trust me.”

In that moment, all the fear, all the uncertainty, melts away. You trust him, even if it feels like a leap into something you can’t fully comprehend. You lean back onto the desk, pulling him closer, and as you toss your bra aside, you kiss him deeply, feeling the heat between you grow with each passing second. The closeness, the skin-to-skin contact, sends a shiver through your body, and you can’t help but want more.

He trails soft kisses down your neck, his lips brushing lower over your collarbone, while his hands find your breasts, teasing your nipples with skilled precision. The sensation has your back arching instinctively, a gasp escaping your lips as your eyes flutter shut. You feel the curve of his smirk against your skin, smug and irresistible.

“So responsive, baby,” he murmurs, his voice laced with that signature arrogance. If you weren’t already undone by him, you might have had a clever retort to put him in his place. But right now, you let it slide, too lost in the way he’s unraveling you piece by piece.

His mouth travels lower, lips grazing over the swell of your breast before capturing your nipple, his tongue flicking against the sensitive peak. His hands don’t stay idle, exploring every curve of your body until his fingers hook onto the waistband of your pants. As his mouth continues its torturous focus on your left nipple, he starts to slowly unzip your pants, the sound sharp and tantalizing in the quiet room.

As he slowly slides your pants down your legs, his lips follow the path of exposed skin, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses down your abdomen. Each touch of his mouth draws quiet moans from you, and your breath comes quicker, chest rising and falling as he takes his time savoring you.

When his lips finally reach your thighs, you bite down on your bottom lip, the sensation overwhelming. It feels like he’s worshiping every inch of your body, a reverence you’ve never known before. The tenderness of it is intoxicating, and yet it’s paired with an intensity that makes your heart race.

He hooks his fingers under your panties, sliding them down in one deliberate motion, leaving you bare. His hands grip your thighs, firm and commanding as he parts your legs, presenting you fully to him. You feel your cheeks flush at the way his eyes darken, hunger and desire flashing across his face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice a low growl, every word heavy with possession. “So goddamn mine. You hear me? Mine.”

The finality in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and your stomach twists in a way that leaves your mind hazy. But you’re not one to surrender without a fight. You meet his gaze with defiance, biting your lip without realizing it, and manage to say, though your voice trembles, “You wish I was yours.”

His smirk is devastating. That cocky, arrogant, infuriatingly attractive bastard. He leans down between your thighs, his breath warm against your core, and you tremble beneath him. His voice drops, the rasp sending shivers over your skin.

“The fact that you’re dripping all over my desk, but still trying to deny it? That’s a contradiction, babygirl.”

Before you can respond, his mouth is on your pussy, hot and relentless. He licks and sucks at your clit with precision, his tongue drawing circles that send you reeling. Your back arches off the desk, a moan escaping your lips as your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the strands as you gasp his name. The sensation is too much and yet not enough, and all you can do is give in to the fire he’s ignited.

As if the relentless attention of his mouth wasn’t enough, his fingers glide into you, two of them slipping in with an ease that makes your breath hitch. He moves them slowly, deliberately teasing, curling them just enough to drive you mad. The rhythm is torturous, every stroke lighting a fire in your core but never letting it burn fully. You mewl in frustration, your hips bucking instinctively against his hand.

“Chan, please—” The plea escapes before you can stop it, raw and breathy, and he chuckles against your thigh, the sound dripping with amusement.

“Are you begging, baby?” His voice is a mix of mockery and arrogance, so maddeningly confident that it sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

It’s then that you notice he’s still fully dressed. Not a single button of his shirt undone, his belt still firmly in place. The realization strikes you like lightning—this is a power play. He’s in control, and he wants you to know it. He wants you to beg, to surrender entirely to him.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you’re ready to give in. You feel it in every trembling inch of your body. You need him, need him inside you, need this unbearable tension to snap. Your skin is alive with sensation, tingling with a desperate, aching need.

But defiance dies hard. You bite your lip, forcing your voice steady despite the heat pooling in your belly. “If I beg,” you say, a challenge in your tone, “will you finally skip the foreplay and actually fuck me like the man you claim to be? Or is all this just for an ego boost?”

Your words earn you a sharp slap to your core, the sting sending shockwaves through you. You gasp, whining as your back arches off the desk, the delicious mix of pain and pleasure robbing you of air.

“Language, babygirl,” he warns, his voice dangerously low. His fingers don’t stop their torturous pace, keeping you right on the edge. “Now, be a good girl and tell me what you want. Maybe—just maybe—I’ll give it to you, but only if you ask nicely.”

The smugness in his tone should make you furious, but instead, it unravels you. Every nerve in your body is screaming for him, for release, for everything. You know you’ve lost the upper hand, but in this moment, you don’t care.

In that moment, you did something you’d never done with anyone before—you swallowed your pride. The words tumbled from your lips, raw and unfiltered, so desperate they almost startled you. “Please, I—please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside me. I need you, baby. Please.”

The vulnerability in your voice ignited something primal in him. His control snapped. His hands flew to his belt, unbuckling it with a speed that made your breath hitch. His pants and boxers slid down his legs in one smooth motion, and as he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you mercilessly, his other hand moved to unbutton his shirt.

Finally, you saw him—completely bare—and the sight stole what little breath you had left. Broad shoulders, a sculpted chest, abs defined like carved stone, and then your eyes dropped lower. The sight of his cock—long, thick, the tip flushed and glistening—made your mouth water.

“You’re staring, love,” he teased, his tone dripping with cocky arrogance.

And for once, you didn’t care. Let him gloat, let him know. You couldn’t tear your eyes away even if you tried. When you finally looked back up at him, your voice came out soft, almost pleading. “Kiss me, please.”

Something shifted in his gaze—softened. He saw it, the emotions swirling inside you. Overwhelmed, conflicted, yet undeniably drawn to him. He understood. This wasn’t just physical—it was everything.

He leaned down slowly, his face inches from yours, and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then to the bridge of your nose. Finally, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll kiss you, baby. As many times as you want, as many times as it takes for you to understand you’re mine. And whether you like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”

Then he kissed you. Not with urgency, but with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. The world faded, leaving just the two of you.

As his lips moved against yours, his hips followed suit. You felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, sliding in slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was intense, your body adjusting to accommodate him. You moaned into his mouth, your hands searching for something to hold onto, but before you could, his fingers found yours. He intertwined them, holding your hands down gently on either side of your head, grounding you.

He broke the kiss but stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as he stilled, giving you time to adjust. His first thrust was slow, deliberate, and so deep it left you gasping.

The sensation was overwhelming. “S-so big,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, trying to convey how full you felt.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and gravelly. “Relax for me, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight I might not last. Let me know when you’re ready, yeah?”

His voice, gentle yet commanding, sent a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, focusing on the way his body felt against yours, how perfectly he fit, and the quiet reassurance of his presence.

After a few moments, you nodded, giving him the silent permission he needed. He kissed you again, deeply and tenderly, as his hips began to move. The first few thrusts were slow, deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second. Your moans were swallowed into the kiss, his lips soft yet insistent against yours, his hands still intertwined with yours, grounding you to the moment.

It felt too good—your body responding to his every move, your walls fluttering around him with every inch he gave you. The sensation pulled a low, guttural groan from him, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. He broke the kiss just enough to nip at your lower lip, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, babygirl,” he rasped, his eyes falling shut, overwhelmed by the way you clenched around him. “So fucking good for me.”

His words sent a shiver racing down your spine. Something in the way he said them, the way he claimed you with every breath, made you want to give him more. You wanted to be good for him—you needed to. The rough, primal groans that escaped his throat were intoxicating, and in your haze, the only thought that came to you escaped your lips in a breathless moan:

“Harder.”

His eyes snapped open at your plea, dark and hungry. A smirk curved his lips, but there was something raw behind it. “You want harder, baby?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, even as his grip on your hands tightened.

You nodded, too lost to care how desperate you sounded. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Harder, Chan.”

His smirk faded, replaced by something darker, more serious. “Hold on to me, then,” he murmured, leaning in close until his forehead pressed to yours again. And then he gave you exactly what you asked for.

And he gave it to you good. Harder. Rougher. Each powerful thrust left you gasping, your moans growing louder and more desperate. Words became impossible to form—every coherent thought shattered by the way he moved, the way he claimed you completely. But you didn’t need words; the sound of your cries, your trembling body, said everything.

The effect you had on him was evident. His darkened eyes, his jaw tight with control, and the guttural groans slipping from his throat spoke volumes. Still, he wanted to give you more.

His hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit effortlessly. His fingers moved in slow, firm circles, the sensation so overwhelming you arched your back off the desk. A ragged gasp tore from your throat as he smirked down at you, the arrogance on his face only fueling your desire.

His other hand moved to your neck, his grip firm but careful—not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to remind you who was in control. The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, your head falling back, eyes rolling as the growing coil in your stomach threatened to snap.

“So. Fucking. Beautiful,” he growled, each word punctuated by a deep, brutal thrust that hit every sensitive spot inside you. His voice was rough, raw, and filled with a reverence that made you tremble. You could feel your body teetering on the edge, his touch and words stripping you of everything but the overwhelming need to fall apart for him.

When he hit that devastatingly sweet spot deep inside you, it was as though the world tilted. Your vision blurred, your breathing hitched, and every nerve in your body threatened to snap. “I’m gonna—” you tried to warn him, but the words dissolved into a cry, a moan that seemed to echo through the room. He didn’t need you to finish—he could feel it in the way your body tensed, the way your thighs shook uncontrollably.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with raw desire, and as if on command, your body gave in. The coil inside you unraveled violently, pleasure washing over you in waves so intense your thighs trembled, your toes curled, and his name spilled from your lips like a mantra.

But he didn’t stop.

His relentless thrusts didn’t falter, prolonging your orgasm as he kept applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit. The sensation teetered between euphoria and overstimulation, leaving you trembling beneath him. Your breaths turned ragged, your voice breaking into a pleading whimper. “Chan— t-too much—”

He ignored your protests, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. His dark eyes burned with hunger, his focus entirely on you.

“You can take it, sweet girl,” he rasped, leaning in to kiss you hard, his lips swallowing your cries. His pace stayed steady but sloppy now, his thrusts deeper, harder, as though chasing his own release.

“One more,” he murmured against your lips, his voice both commanding and tender. “Give me one more, baby. You’re so beautiful when you fall apart on my cock—just one more.”

His words wrecked you, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body. Your head spun, tears slipping from your eyes as the intensity pushed you toward another peak. And when he angled his hips just right, thrusting deeply, your body betrayed you again.

This orgasm hit like a tidal wave, blinding and all-consuming. You gasped, your body arching off the desk, thighs locking around him as your walls clenched tight, gripping him like a vice. Your vision blurred white, your mind going blank except for the feeling of him filling every part of you.

“Fuck—look at you,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he felt you squeeze him tighter, harder. His rhythm faltered, and when you tugged him into a kiss—fierce, desperate, full of everything you couldn’t say—it shattered what little control he had left.

With a guttural moan, he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew you’d wear his marks for days. His release hit, warm and overwhelming, as he filled you completely. His forehead pressed against yours, breaths mingling, both of you trembling and wrecked, caught in the aftermath of something far more than just physical.

He didn’t pull away right away. Instead, he stayed close, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw and neck, grounding you as your breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. His touch, once so commanding, now moved gently across your skin, fingertips tracing soothing patterns along your sides.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice low and tender, filled with a care that made your chest ache. “Ride it out, baby. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

His words wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you found yourself melting further into his hold. He kissed your temple, his thumb brushing across your cheek to catch the tears you didn’t realize were still there.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching yours, full of concern despite the haze of his own release.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your voice too shaky to form words yet. He stayed where he was, his forehead resting gently against yours, his hands never leaving your skin as he let you come down from the intensity of it all.

When your breathing evened out, he eased back slightly, only to cup your face in his hands, studying you like he wanted to memorize every detail. “You’re incredible,” he said softly, his tone so sincere it made your stomach flutter.

He pressed a final kiss to your forehead before gently lifting you off the desk and carrying you to the couch nearby. Settling you down carefully, he grabbed his discarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders to cover you, his hands tucking it around you like a blanket.

“You just sit here for a minute, okay?” he said, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’ll get you some water.”

As he moved, you watched him, still processing the shift between you. His touch, his care—it wasn’t just about power anymore. There was something more in his actions, something that left you feeling exposed but safe at the same time. When he returned with a glass of water, he crouched down in front of you, offering it as he met your gaze.

“You did so good, baby,” he said, his voice steady, soothing. “Take a sip, then tell me how you’re feeling.”

You took the glass from him, your hands still trembling slightly, and drank. The coolness steadied you, and you looked back at him with a small smile. “I feel… better,” you said softly, and his lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Good,” he said, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You’re stuck with me now.”

The stillness in the room is thick, but it’s not the same kind of quiet that lingered before. There’s a weight to it now, a softness that wasn’t there before. Your breath still comes in slow, measured pants, your body still humming with the aftermath of everything that just happened. And when you finally meet Chan’s gaze, it’s different. The cold, calculating eyes that used to watch you like a pawn are gone. In their place is something deeper, something raw, as if he’s seeing you for the first time—not the daughter of his enemy, not the reluctant ally, but the woman who’s now standing beside him.

He doesn’t speak immediately. He watches you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before his lips curl into a slight, barely there smile. It’s a smile you’ve never seen before—tender and full of meaning, and for the first time, you don’t feel like you’re walking on a knife’s edge. You’re standing with him. Together.

“You know,” he finally says, his voice rough from the tension that still lingers between you, “this was never supposed to happen.”

Your heart skips at the admission. It’s the truth, in a way, but something about it sounds different now. This isn’t about power, about taking down your father’s empire. It’s about him, about both of you, and where this path will lead.

You don’t say anything right away, just allowing the moment to settle between you. But you feel it—the pull between you two is no longer one of distrust or forced obligation. It’s deeper, rawer, like a shared breath, an unspoken vow.

“I didn’t think I’d ever want something like this,” he continues, stepping closer to you. The space between you is no longer an obstacle, but a mere formality. “But now that I do…”

His words trail off, but you don’t need him to finish. You can feel it. The shift is clear. It’s in the way his fingers brush against your skin when he reaches for you again, in the way his hand lingers on the back of your neck, his touch grounding you in this new reality. His eyes lock on yours, and you see it: the commitment, the understanding that this isn’t just about a partnership in the mafia anymore.

This is something more.

“I’ll burn the world down for you,” he says, his voice a low promise, the words more than just an empty vow. You see it in his eyes—something ferocious, something dangerous, but also something fiercely protective. “And I’ll build something better from the ashes. Together.”

You feel the weight of his promise settle in your chest, and you know, without a doubt, that this isn’t just about power or loyalty. This is about you and him—two people who’ve been through hell and come out the other side, now bound by something deeper than either of you had expected. He’s not the man who kidnapped you anymore. He’s the man who’s willing to sacrifice it all to protect you, and you feel the same stir inside you.

“I’m with you,” you say, your voice steady, the words solid and final. “No matter what comes next.”

Chan’s gaze softens, just a fraction. He leans in, and for the first time, you don’t hesitate. You meet him halfway, your lips pressing together in a kiss that feels like both a beginning and an end—an affirmation of what you’re both willing to sacrifice, of what you’re willing to burn to the ground to create something new.

The moment stretches, pulling you both in. There’s no going back now. The line between enemies and allies, between loyalty and love, has blurred completely.

But just as you feel the full weight of that, the door to the study bursts open, and Changbin steps in. His eyes dart between you both, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he clears his throat.

Chan doesn’t pull away. His arm remains around you, pulling you closer as though marking you as his own in front of anyone who dares to challenge it.

“We’ve got a problem,” Changbin says, his voice low. The urgency in his tone cuts through the charged air in the room.

You and Chan both turn your attention to him, the shift between you more than obvious now. The world may still be watching, may still be demanding your attention, but for the first time, neither of you cares. You’re in this together now. Whatever comes next, you’ll face it side by side.

“Tell me,” Chan says, his voice firm, the weight of leadership back in it, but this time, it’s different. There’s a certainty in him now, a man who knows exactly who he’s doing this for.

Changbin hesitates, but only for a second. The message is clear. Whatever consequences are coming, they’re coming fast. But whatever it is, you know that with Chan by your side, you’re ready.

“Get ready. We’re about to make a bigger move. And this time, it’s not just about us. It’s about everything.”

You glance up at Chan, the unspoken understanding passing between you. You’re no longer two people caught in a world of shifting alliances. You’re partners, bound by blood and fire. And the world better be ready for what’s coming.

The door closes behind Changbin, and for a moment, you and Chan just stand there. The tension in the room isn’t gone, but it’s different now. It’s no longer just about survival. It’s about what you’ll burn for each other.

The future is uncertain, but for the first time, it feels like you both have a hold on it.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[ariisheresstuff]

Kennedy’s Birth

Pairings: Carmen x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: You give birth to you and Carmen’s first child

Warnings: Crying, labor, birth, hospital, screaming, etc.

Genre: Fluff

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open, have a good day! <3

It was 2:30 AM and you sat up with a hitch in your breath, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before letting out a small yelp. You clutched your bump as you felt a sharp pain run through your ribs. You turn to the side to look at Carmen who was sleeping, you started to panic before getting up slowly. As soon as you stood up you felt a liquid dripping down making you gasp. You looked down and saw your sweatpants damp. Your water broke. You immediately waddled to Carmen’s side of the bed and shook him awake.

“Carm, baby, wake up.” You whispered while shaking him awake, he stirred and groaned before opening his eyes and looking at you.

“What? What happened?” Carmen said in a tired voice while rubbing his eyes. You felt tears burning in your eyes.

“M-my water broke.” You said through hiccups while holding your bump. Carmen’s eyes widened as he sat up immediately getting off the bed while cupping your face.

“Oh shit, um- okay, it’s gonna be okay baby. Did the contractions start?” Carmen soothed you while cupping your face and running his thumb over your cheek. You nodded as you sniffled.

“I-I’m scared Carmen.” The tears were falling now making Carmen frown. He wiped the tears away while bringing you closer to him. He kissed your forehead while rubbing your back to calm you down.

“Baby, it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, and the baby is gonna okay. Trust me. Everything is gonna be okay, hell, we’re gonna have a baby. We’re gonna have a girl.” Carmen said while lifting your chin so you could look up at him. He gave you a smile making you smile a bit as you wiped away the tears. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before nodding at Carmen.

“I love you so much Carmen. I’m surprised you’re not the one panicking.” You said with a light chuckle making Carmen roll his eyes.

“I can’t also be panicking babe, then we’ll both be in deep shit.” You and Carmen laughed before you let out a hiss while clutching your baby bump.

“Argh, shit. Okay, I think we should get going.” You said through your teeth while a contraction hit you. Carmen nodded before walking you towards the edge of the bed to sit. He quickly got you a new pair of sweats to wear before helping you put them on. He then quickly got the baby bag that has been prepared since the day you both found out about the big news.

“Okay babe I’m gonna start the car, then I’ll help you down the stairs okay?” He said as he grabbed the car keys and put on his shoes. You nodded as you started the breathing exercises, Carmen quickly put the bag in the car and started up the car before running back in the house to get you.

Carmen helped you into your slippers before helping you up from the bed. He took his time helping you down the stairs and taking you outside to the car. He helped you into the car by lifting you slowly and buckling your seatbelt. You couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Carmy, I can buckle myself in.” You said as Carmen buckled himself in getting ready to drive. Carmen took your hand into his as he kissed your knuckles.

“I know you can, but I rather do everything for you today.” He said with a smile as he leaned over to peck your lips. “You ready to have a kid?” You smiled as you nodded.

“I’m ready.” Carmen smiled with you before pecking your lips one more time before driving off.

The whole car ride to the hospital you felt the contractions hitting you like a truck. Carmen let you squeeze the shit out his hand as he soothed you with words and aspirations. “It’s okay babe, we’re 3 minutes away.” He kept kissing your hand helping you as you whined and kept on doing your breathing exercises.

“I-it hurts.” You whimpered.

“I know baby, it’s okay.” Carmen quickly pulled into the hospital parking lot and quickly parked in a random spot before unbuckling himself and quickly getting out of the car to help you. He grabbed the bag before opening your side door, he unbuckled you out before grabbing both your hands.

“Easy babe, gentle, that’s it.” He took his time with you as you both walked into the entrance of the hospital. It was quiet and peaceful.

You got checked in and a nurse immediately came with a wheelchair for you and walked you guys to a room. Carmen held your hand the entire time. Even helping you get into your gown.

It felt like hours went by as the nurses got you situated with everything. You were exhausted and it wasn’t even time to push yet. Carmen texted Richie, the others, and even your parents that you were getting ready to give birth soon. You felt a headache coming on and it was stressing you out.

“Carmy?” You said in a weak voice, Carmen immediately went by your side as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“What’s wrong baby?” He said as he grabbed the cup of ice chips by you, you opened your mouth as you let the ice cool you down. You immediately started to cry. Carmen frowned as you sobbed.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s frustrating you? Hm?” Carmen kissed your forehead while wiping the tears away.

“I’m just scared. I-I’m scared about the birth, I-I’m scared about being a mother. W-what if I’m not good at being a m-mom?” You said through hiccups, Carmen frowned more with his eyebrows knitted together.

“Baby… how could you say those things about yourself? You don’t think I’m scared as well being a dad? It’s a lot to take in and you have every right to feel this way. I know you will be the best mother out there. We will learn together, you’re not alone on this y’know?”

You nodded as Carmen held your hand and you running your fingers through his curly locks. Carmen sighed before giving you a loving kiss making you sigh lovingly. He rested his forehead on yours as you two shared this moment together.

“Y’know I feel like she’s gonna have your temper.” That made Carmen laugh as he rolled his eyes playfully, you smirked as Carmen rubbed your bump.

“If she’s gonna have my temper, then she’s definitely gonna take her time with everything like her mother does.” You playfully smacked his shoulder as he laugh while continuing to rub your bump.

Hours went by and the contractions were getting worse. You were nine meters dilated one meter away from giving birth. Carmen didn’t leave your side the whole time. He wiped away the tears and sweat, feeding you ice chips, and soothing you as you held his hand.

“It’s almost time babe, you’re doing amazing.” He kissed your knuckles as you whined and groaned.

“I just want this baby out of me!!!!” You screeched feeling more frustrated. You did get the epidural because the pain was intense. Out of the nowhere the Doctor came in with a smile.

“Good News Mr. And Mrs. Berzatto, it’s time.” Hearing that made you sigh in relief but now it was the hard part of the whole pregnancy. You looked up at Carmen with a wobble in your lips, Carmen kissed your forehead as he whispered, “It’s gonna be okay.” The doctor and nurses were getting everything ready having you sit up lightly and having your legs propped up.

“I’ll be right here babe, I promise. You can the squeeze the shit out of my hand, I don’t care. I’m not leaving your side.” You nodded with a watery smile before grabbing his hand while a nurse held your other hand with a rag.

“Are you ready Mrs.Berzatto?” The doctor asked you making you take a deep breath before nodding.

“I’m ready.”

“You’re doing great momma, you’re almost there.” The doctor said as you screamed out another painful hard push.

“Aghhh!!!! Shit!! I can’t do it!” You said through broken sobs and your breathing was getting harder. You squeezed Carmen’s hand and the nurses hand as you shut your eyes just wanting this to be over.

“You got this baby, you’re doing such a good job I promise you she’s almost here.” The nurse ran the rag over your sweaty forehead as Carmen pecked your forehead a few times while running a hand down you neck to calm you down.

You laid back as you tried to get your breathing in control, you let out heavy pants as Carmen kept feeding you the ice chips.

“You can do it momma, trust me just a few more pushes her head is almost out!” The doctor told you as you took in a big inhale through your nose before nodding.

“Okay, ready…. And push!” You pushed with all your might as the doctor counted down. Your head was pounding and your body was burning.

“Argh!! Jesus fuck!” Carmen helped spread your leg more as he continued to soothe you.

“You’re doing so good babe.” He whispered in your ear.

“One more push!”

You let out a big sigh through your nose, your whole body was shaking as the tears fell. You let out a scream of agony before the doctor announced “she’s out!” You felt relieved.

You laid back down as you tried to catch your breath, feeling like you ran a marathon. You then heard the cries of your baby girl. You froze as you looked at Carmen through tears. Carmen already had tears running down his face as he helped cut the chord. You saw the doctor held up the baby for you to see. You smiled through the tears as they placed her on your bare chest. You let out a sob as you looked down at the bundle of joy in your arms who was crying.

“Oh my gosh, she’s here. Carmen she’s here.” You said as more tears fell, Carmen cupped you face as he kissed you. He wiped the tears away as he smiled.

“She’s here, gosh you did so good baby. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed you again as you both looked down at the child who had her light blue eyes open. You both smiled as she looked at the both of you.

“Look at those beautiful eyes, oh my goodness. You’re so beautiful.” You whispered as you ran a finger on her cheek, Carmen rubbing her small back with a thumb. She let out a yawn making you and Carmen chuckle.

“Already exhausted.” You said with a playful eye roll making Carmen chuckle.

“Do we have a name for the precious one?” The doctor said with a clipboard as the nurses took her to clean her up. The other nurses helping you. You and Carmen looking at each other with a smile.

“Kennedy Jane Berzatto.”

Hours went by with you passing out from the long process. You squinted your eyes open to see Carmen on the couch with his shirt off and the small bare baby on his chest. He was doing skin to skin making you smile.

“Can’t believe you’re finally here Kenzie. I’m so happy to have you here in my arms. I love you and your mother with all my heart. Carmen whispered to the small child who was sleeping. She had her two fingers wrapped around his pointer finger. He hummed gently as he snuggled her to his chest.

You felt tears slide down your cheeks as you smiled at the sight as you watched them have a moment.

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

[judes-hoe]

Until you came along ~ KM9

Parrings ~ Kylian Mbappé x reader

Genre ~ little angst/fluff

Summary ~ when the move to Madrid is difficult with a 4 year old, so he hires a nanny for help. Little does he falls in love…

Warnings ~ I will be using Y/N throughout this!

A/N ~ single dad kylian! (I am on a roll with fics)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The move to Madrid for him was a little rough. Not only did he have to find an apartment…he had to find a nanny or babysitter for his four year old daughter, Élise. He didn’t trust daycares, being a famous football, single, and having a kid. He just didn’t trust leaving his little girl alone in a strange place. As if he had a nanny, he can get to know them before hiring them.

He’d found a nice apartment just for him and Élise, in the city of Madrid. On the jet ride there, Kylian had came across this page. It was your nanny account, you have about 100+ followers. You posted things with the kids you nannied, keeping their faces hidden though. The people who you’ve nannied for said you were great.

Kylian thought about it for a while, before he had privately messaged you. He asked if within the next day or two if he could meet you for coffee to get to know you. You had politely accepted his offer, the two of you messaged before agreeing to meet for lunch tomorrow afternoon.

Kylian was nervous to say the least, back in France he had his mom to watch her. Yet he didn’t have his mom in Madrid. Kylian look down at Élise who was taking a nap in the chair beside him. He just wanted what was best for his little girl.

~~~~

The next day came around. Everything in the apartment was set up and furnished, Kylian just needed to do some decorating. He woken Élise from her early morning nap, and gotten her dressed and ready to go meet up with you for lunch.

Kylian carried her out to the car and buckled her in her car seat before getting in the front seat himself. Starting the car to drive to the place you both decided on. It wasn’t far from his new apartment, so it wasn’t long before he was there. He looked around the small café like restaurant, making sure he didn’t see you before getting a table. He sat down with Élise next to him in the chair.

You walked in a few minutes later looking around until you saw him. Kylian and you locked eyes. ‘merde she’s pretty’ he thought to himself. You gave him a small smile before walking over to him, he returned it. “Hey! You must be Kylian I take it?” You asked once you got closer, holding you a hand to shake his. “Um yeah hi, I’m kylian. You must be Y/N?” He said shaking your hand and watching you sit across from him. “Yes I am.” You responded.

You look at the little girl next to him, giving her a little smile and wave. “Hi, what’s your name?” You asked politely. Élise looks at you shyly, she looks up at her dad. Kylian gives her a soft nod as his way of telling her it’s okay. “I’m Élise.” She spoke shyly. “Well isn’t that a pretty name for a very pretty girl.” Once those words left your mouth, she smiled and let out a small giggle.

You smiled at her before turning your attention back to Kylian. “So, I take it you wanted to meet for your daughter, tell me what you need, and I can see if I can provide it.” You spoke to him. “You’re lucky, I only do one kid at a time, and my last family I nannied for didn’t need me anymore.” You added on.

The waiter came over and quickly took your orders before leaving.

Kylian takes a second before responding. “Well as you probably know, I play football. We have training from 7:30am to about 2:30pm, and then I’ll let you know when we have matches which will be during the week, or weekend.” He spoke telling you what he needed. “And if it’s not to much to ask, are you okay with like over nights?” He spoke with a questionable tone. “I might have to travel a few times so if you could stay overnight that’d be great.” He asked almost pleading, he was hoping you’d accept the job.

You nodded and thought about it for a few seconds. “Yeah, I can work with that.” You told him. “I do have one thing I always ask people before I officially accept a job.” You said. “Yeah of course, what is it?” He asked. “Are you okay if I take her out? Like to the park, or lunch. That way we aren’t in the house the whole day?” You asked with an understanding tone. “Yeah I’m totally fine with that, I think that great.”

The waiter came back with your food, you and Kylian each ordered a sandwich, while he ordered Élise just a Grilled Cheese and fries. “What’s your price? Like what’s your pay?” Kylian asked before he started eating. “I pay 20 a hour, but if it’s an over night it’s 25…” you said after swallowing your bite.

You and Kylian ate and he asked a few more questions before the bill was brought. Kylian immediately grabbed the bill out of habit. “I can pay my half.” You said. “No, no it’s okay. I got it, I wanted to meet you and get to know you so let me pay.” He said pulling out his wallet. “Okay.” You said deciding not to argue on it. “So can you start by this Thursday?” He asked looking at you. “Yeah of course, just be sure to text me what time and your address.” You said.

“Yeah of course, well I’ll see you then.” He said and stood up. “Come on Élise.” Kylian said holding his hand out for the little girl to take. She took his hand and started walking with him out the café, but not before giving you a small wave. You wave back and smile. You couldn’t wait till Friday, you get to start taking care of that sweet little girl, and you get to see him again…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N ~ cliffhangerrrrrrr😈😈😈

[sturn1olo-ffics]

- “ALRIGHT BABY” -

pt. 1 | pt. 2

- Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns)

- Warnings: use of y/n, angst, hatred, swearing, making out, drinking, I think that’s it? I hope 😭; NOT PROOFREAD

- About: Matt and y/n have always hated each other. Their personalities clashed and honestly, y/n just had the BIGGEST crush on Chris. And Matt hated that. So. Much.

—————————————————————————————

MATT’S POV:

I really don’t want to go to this party tonight but it’s Tara’s birthday so I want to show her support.

“MATTTTTT!!!!!” Chris screamed from downstairs.

“Fucking what????” I yelled back.

“Are you almost ready? We gotta leave bro.” he said.

“Chris I’ve been ready I don’t even know what we’re waiting on.” I said back, lowkey confused.

“We’re waiting on y/n to get here, she was stuck in traffic.” Nick yelled from the kitchen.

“Of course she’s the hold up.” I snapped.

“Dude chill it’ll be alright.” Chris laughed.

*30 minutes passes and they’re all in y/n’s car, driving to Tara’s party*

Y/N’s POV:

“Alright so Imma leave y’all to whatever y’all wanna do because I’m getting DRUNK!” I laughed while Matt glared over.

“Okay well let us know when you’re ready to leave… and give me those damn car keys.” Nick laughed back.

Nick handed my keys to Matt, who would obviously be driving us home. I didn’t want him touching my things but I had no other option.

“Hey Jake!” I ran right into Jake Webber when I walked in.

“Hey! You want a drink??” He offered me a drink and I chugged it.

I hadn’t drank in a while because I was trying to focus on college instead of partying and drinking. But one night couldn’t hurt.

I felt a hand grab onto my waist from behind.

It was Chris.

“Hey?? What’s up??” I exclaimed, confused.

“Hey I just wanna stay by you tonight, make sure you’re gonna be okay.” He whispered in my ear.

Chris always cared about me a little more than everyone else. And it definitely didn’t help that I had a huge thing for him. I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at him bro.

But I had no chance with him. He said I was like a sister to him and, honestly, I’m not about the incest life…

On a real note though, he was my best friend. And I don’t want to mess that up.

MATT’S POV:

I saw Chris place a hand on her waist.

Why the hell was that pissing me off? I don’t even like her as a person.

I kept an eye on her the whole night. I know how she acts when she gets drunk and I’d rather her not embarrass us.

*2 hours passes and y/n has had a LOT to drink*

“Hey Matt-” she leaned on me. So unlike her.

“Get off. What?” I pushed her away.

“I don’t feel good, can you get me an Uber? You can take my-” she started before I cut her off.

“No. You’re not taking an Uber like this. That’s dangerous.” I responded.

“Well then how the fuck am I supposed to get home?” she snapped.

“I will take you. Come on.” I picked her up by the waist and threw her over my shoulder.

“Matt!!!! Put me down!!!” she squealed.

“No. You can barely walk.” I laughed.

Y/N’s POV:

What the hell. Why was that kinda… ok no I need to chill.

“What about Nick and Chris??” I questioned.

“They’re getting a ride from Carrington, it’s alright.” he responded.

He opened the car door and placed me in, buckling me up before closing the door and walking to the other side.

“Matt?” I asked, quietly.

“What?” He snarked.

“You know I’m not really drunk right?” I laughed.

“Y/n-” he started.

“I just wanted to go home but didn’t wanna seem lame.” I laughed. Which, I mean, I was telling the truth. It was all an act. “But please don’t turn the car around.”

“You know you could’ve just told me that…? I wasn’t gonna think you were lame.” He pulled the car over to talk.

“You don’t think I’m lame?” I giggled.

“Oh please, sure I do.” Matt put the car in park. “Do you wanna drive? It’s your car…” he asked.

“No… I’m too tired.” I yawned.

“Alright baby.” he turned to face the wheel again, not even realizing what he just said.

“… baby?” I was in utter shock. Matt HATES me. Where in the hell did this come from???

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” he turned to face me again.

“No it’s just… where did that come from…?” I laughed.

“You want me to show you where that came from?” he looked down at my lips, then back up to my dilated eyes.

“Wha-” I started before I was cut off by Matt’s lips grazing my ears.

“Let me kiss you.” he demanded.

Since when did he become so hot?

Without a thought, I pressed my lips to his.

The kiss was passionate and greedy. Like he had been wanting to do that for years.

I pulled back.

“You know-” I laughed before he cut me off.

“Shh” he whispered.

He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. He pushed the seat back and guided me over the center console.

He trailed kisses down my neck, onto my bare chest which had been exposed by the neckline of my top. Leaving bruises for the world to see.

His playlist played in the background.

Minutes passed by of us sloppily kissing each other until we couldn’t breathe.

“Do you still hate me?” he pulled back.

“I don’t know if I ever did.” I stared into his bright blue eyes.

“I know you never did.” he smirked. Making me trace back to all the times I stared at him just a little too long.

“Can we do this more often?” I laughed, climbing back into the passenger seat.

“Oh baby you’re mine. I’ve already marked you up.” he placed a hand on my chest, trailing his finger up my neck, then dragging my lip down with it.

How the hell do I explain this to Nick and Chris??? Do I just not say anything?? I have to, they’re gonna find out. Especially if me and Matt are together. But did he really mean that I’m HIS?

—————————————————————————————

A/N: Hi guys!!!! I’M BACKKKKKK!!!!!! Sorry if this fic was a little rusty…. it’s been a while. Sorry it’s so short!! But, I hope to make it multiple parts if this does well. So, I hope you see the vision?? I was so busy with school I crashed out LOLLL. But I’m back and better than usual. I hope to stay writing fics for a while longer. But we’ll see. Send reqs in my inbox for a part 2!! 🤍🤍 Maya :)







[dontexpectmuch]

saw that ur taking requests again (missed u sm bae) 🤭 maybe smth along the lines of going to winter wonderland w jude and him being afraid of the rides ?

being with jude always came with many ups and downs.

he made you laugh, was there for you whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on, never made you feel like an option, but a priority.

and though you missed him dearly whenever he went on an away game, he still tried to spend as much time with you as possible, proving you that he was being serious about your relationship.

so when you asked him to go to winter wonderland, he didn’t even think twice about booking the tickets.

and even though jude and you were ready about the ups and downs that came with a relationship, he certainly wasn’t ready for the ups and downs of the rollercoaster rides at wonderland.

clutching your arm, jude tried to push you to the food courts, “babe, let’s eat first, yeah?”

rolling your eyes, you stand still. you couldn’t believe your boyfriend was genuinely scared of some ride here.

“jude, please! it’s not even that bad-“

“fuck off, i saw some guys throw up into that bin there. i aint doing this, babe. i have a bright future ahead that i don’t wanna risk.” he cut you off, shaking his head and dragging you away from the ride.

sighing, you walk along and find yourself in front of a crepe stand, waiting in line.

you speak up again, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it slightly, “we will try at least one ride, okay? if you still don’t like it then, we could, i don’t know, like, maybe try some games? win a plushie, ‘kay?”

jude nodded, eyes looking at you with much adoration and gratitude that words couldn’t describe. he leaned forward, pressing a kiss against your forehead before moving along the queue.

as soon as you guys finished your crepes, you move to the the rollercoaster jude wasn’t very fond of. and though he tried to talk out his way of going on there, at the end, you guys sat inside a cart and buckled up.

“if i die, just know that i ate your last cookie, and i am so sorry.” jude said, hands shaking slightly as he closed his eyes. he looked petrified, but also oh so cute that you almost forgot what he just confessed to you.

“what-“

however before you could scold your boyfriend, the ride began and you guys shot up towards the first heightened point of it.

it was going quite well, even if the wind was harsh against your face. as you glance up at your boyfriend, you can’t help but burst out laughing.

eyes squeezed shut, lips in a straight line and one hand on the rail, as the other found its way on top of yours to hold.

“babe!” you laugh, fingers intertwining with his. “open your eyes!”

“no!”

as you guys slowly come to an end, with the adrenaline still in its heights, you drag jude out of the cart and to the photobooth of the ride, eyes wildly searching for your picture.

“babe, look!” you point at the picture.

judes eyes were closed shut, his hands had a deadly grip on the rail, while you looked like you were having the time of your life.

“dude!” jude laughs at himself, his hand on your waist as he pushes your body closer to his, “i look like a fuckin’ whimp!” he continued, now looking at you.

“you want it?”

“and have our kids think ‘m a whimp?” jude denies, shaking his head.

his hand travels up and down your waist, eyes full of love as he still looks at you.

“well then we should ride another one, so we can have a pretty picture, no?”

“fuck off, i already feel dizzy.”

—————————

and they say romance is dead

[cherrychilli]

18+

AFAB reader, Oral sex(m), mentions of P in V sex

A/N: This one's silly but so is most of the stuff I write I guess.

Consider this: "Pavloving" Steve into popping a boner whenever you wear your favorite perfume.

It's the one you had been eyeing in passing for the past few days. The pretty tinted and textured glass bottle caught your attention but the fragrance, a particular blend of subtle and powdery sweet, is what made you fall in love with it. You reluctantly set the bottle back down and leave it behind however, knowing you couldn't afford the purchase until your next pay day. Maybe.

You're not down about it for very long though because you're dating Steve Harrington. Adorably attentive and partial to spoiling his favorite girl, he surprises you with a bottle the following morning along with plans for dinner that night so that you have a chance to use it.

It's hard not to feel as good as you do, all dressed up, pulse points spritzed with your new gift. Steve compliments you all night, pulling you close to breathe you in, hands roaming your body discreetly, fingers lingering where no one else can see. You know just how to thank him for the thoughtful present and dinner when you get back to his place.

On your knees, hand cupping his balls, tongue pushed out to rest the head of his cock on. You kitten lick at the swollen, ruddy tip, drawing choked, ragged pleas of "baby- oh, fuck- please", from his kiss bitten lips. It's a slow, sinful descent as you kiss down the underside of his shaft, whatever's left of your lipstick leaving faint traces on the sensitive skin there. " Y' take such good care of me, Steve- 'wanna show you how thankful I am", you lick a wet stripe all the way back up before finally taking him into your mouth. It's cute how worked up he gets despite how slow and gentle you're being with him. How red he gets in the face. Sputtering praise, moaning and whining while you leisurely suck and stroke him till he spills into your mouth.

You hadn't meant to but it ends up becoming a habit. It's one of your favorite perfumes and you save it for special occasions and that included date night with Steve. He can smell it when he leans over to kiss you as you buckle yourself into the passenger seat. He can smell it on you at the restaurant, soft wispy hints of it when he sneaks a peek or two at your cleavage. And he can smell it the whole time you're pressed up against him in the backseat of his car, riding him fast and hard on some lonely road because you're too impatient to wait the 15 minute drive back to yours.

It begins to linger in his subconscious after every romp, memories of you, all bare skin and angelic moans intertwining with the sweet fragrance. The next time you're getting dolled up for date night he comes over to pick you up, waiting for you on the couch while you finish getting ready. You apply the fragrance as your final step before greeting him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. That's when you feel something stiff poking you.

Looking down to see the bulge that definitely hadn't been there a few moments ago and then back up at him, you see that he's just as surprised as you are. It didn't usually happen this quickly. And especially not when you hadn't even done anything yet.

"I- I think it might be your perfume...", he explains, clearly embarrassed. You don't understand at first until you see his cheeks turn that familiar shade of red and it suddenly clicks. One hearty giggle from you and a sheepish laugh from him later and you've collected yourself. "Guess we're gonna have to flip the order of events tonight", you run your hands down his shirt and slacks as you ease down on to your knees, fingers seeking his belt and a fleeting thought flashing through your mind.

Gonna need to go back for a second bottle.

[mushroomflood]

Can I ask how you’re feeling about the new trailer? :)

Ok, buckle up, you’ve opened the floodgates :). I am so glad that the trailer has finally been released. I followed a “days until sonic movie 3” page (that has now been deleted 😞) back when there was ~600 days left. There is now 114!! Thats practically right around the corner, I am salivating at the mouth for this.

They have been giving us nothing of this movie so far. Like small scraps of “this is Maria’s actress!” here and “Keanu might be voicing Shadow” there. Finally we’ve gotten something, and I think Shadow looks amazing. I love him riding his motorbike, doing the little drift, beating everyone up, and just being cool in general. Im so ready for him to wreak havoc and I can tell there’s gonna be a lot of Shadow and Sonic rivalry (to friends arc) going on. Also, Maria!! I cant wait for her demise (sorry Shadow). I just wanna see where they go with his backstory, and cute little snippets of him before he hated everyone.

The movie models are just so well rendered, so I am looking forward to seeing new scenes of all my boys (no girls it looks like). While a lot of people are really disappointed that it seems like Amy,Rouge, etc. won’t be in the movie, I never really thought they would be, and don’t necessarily want them to be either. I think the movie would be better focusing on Shadow and Sonic(+Knuckles+Tails).

I am a bit worried about critics, as the Knuckles Series got a lot of hate when it really wasn’t bad. Like, it had some childish and/or unfunny parts, and it did focus more on Wade than I would have preferred. But at the end of the day it was centered around my absolute fav character, and any new Knuckles content I will eat up. We would never have seen him in his silly little hat if it wasn’t for the series, so who cares if it wasn’t the best. It gave us hours of new Knuckles scenes to talk about, and I think a lot of it treated him pretty well.

But, if people start hating on the new movie like that, it will really sap the joy out of it. So I hope everyone will try to find stuff to enjoy, instead of stuff to nitpick. …That being said, I really hope they don’t treat Knuckles like a joke. He gets put into ‘comedic relief’ way too often, and even though Boom!Knuckles holds a special place in my heart, I would rather Knuckles’ character be treated seriously. He has so much potential, and I don’t want him to slowly slide back into the meathead character bc he’s way more than that.

The trailer didn’t exactly do him justice, but all of the boys got beaten real easy, so I’m holding out hope that he won’t continue to blunder. Since the movie is gonna be focused on Shadow and Sonic, I don’t think Knuckles (and even Tails) will get as much screen time. And while that does suck, it’s not horrible. If we get some family bonding and brotherly interactions, I’ll be happy. I just hope that they do Knuckles right for the time he is there. Please treat him carefully sonic movie universe, I beg you. He is my baby.