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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Dishonorable Discharge | dark!Bucky Barnes x sister!reader

please please please do not read or interact if this content would be triggering or upsetting for you in any way. i do not condone the topics or behaviors that i write about.

summary: you and your brother were always thick as thieves, even if you weren’t technically related. you weren’t ready for him to leave to go off to war, but you were even less prepared for the shell of him that would return.

warnings: noncon smut, sibling incest (I mean she’s adopted but still), breeding kink, innocence kink, loss of virginity, mention of hypothetical underage activity?? idk how to tag that but everyone in this story is 18+!

word count: 3.6k

tagging @lestersglitterglue cause they asked real nice!

Even though you were adopted, people always said that you and Bucky had a family resemblance. It wasn't your respective appearances per se, but rather the way your eyes both sparkled. Your parents sometimes joked that the two of you were more brother and sister than most brothers and sisters were— and they were right: even with the age gap, often the two of you felt like twins. It was hard to imagine that your biological parents could've kept you and that you never would've known him... it felt like he had always been your brother, your best friend, your partner in crime; your Jamie.

You had been awful when he deployed. You'd sobbed and screamed and beat his chest with your weak little fists. You'd told him that if he left, you would hate him forever; that if he left, he might as well never come back.

Of course you regretted it once you got older and realized how stupid you were. But you were only fifteen then, and heartbroken, and too selfish to understand that there were things more important than the promises you'd made to each other as children. You were so afraid that he wouldn't come back and that you'd lose your only real friend in this world; and, like it often does, that fear turned to anger.

By the time you were seventeen, you finally stopped crying and tried to make a life for yourself. You tried to see it all as an opportunity: he'd always been the popular one, meaning you were stuck being known as "Bucky's little sister" rather than as your own person. Now you could just be you for once— as soon as you figured out who you were without him.

By nineteen, you had lost hope that he would return. You pretended to be at peace with that. You pretended not to hate yourself for pushing him away when you needed each other most. Silently, you thought of him every day; secretly, you went to church every night to pray for him.

It was the sort of neighborhood where you could leave your door unlocked, so you did. Still, people usually knocked first. You were wearing a nightgown you only wore around the house because it was much too short and small for you now, but with the hot weather, it was necessary. You hadn’t expected to hear the door open, so as you nervously peered out from the hall to the foyer, you were beyond surprised at what you saw.

The man in the doorway… he looked familiar. He was wearing your brother's uniform. But his eyes were different. That sparkle you shared was long gone. And without it, you weren't sure he was your brother anymore.

"Jamie?" you asked, unable to believe what you were seeing.

Recognition crossed his face like he was hearing the name of someone he used to know.

"Jamie," you called again, your voice breaking as you ran to him; you wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight enough to make up for all the lost time. "I thought I'd lost you," you sobbed, "oh god, Jamie, I thought you were—"

"Shhhh," he soothed, finally reciprocating the hug as one hand stroked the back of your head.

"Don't ever leave me again," you begged. "I can't lose you again."

"I won't go," he promised softly.

And just like that, you were the same little girl who'd clung to his legs and begged him to stay all those years ago, but this time you'd gotten what you always dreamed of. This time, he wasn’t going to leave.

“You still like your eggs basted?” you asked him with a toothy smile, doing your best to keep things light. You had so many questions for him but you wanted him to just feel at home first. You two had always told each other everything, so you figured it wouldn’t be long until he told you what he’d been through in the last several years.

When you turned to receive the answer to your question, though, you found him spaced out in his seat at the dining table, staring off into nothing. You could tell he was thinking about something just from the way his eyes were glazed over; you could tell he was thinking about something unpleasant from the way his fist was tightened.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently. Silence.

You left your place by the stove, crossing the kitchen and kneeling down so you were eye-level with him. Hesitantly, you reached out to brush your hand against his face. He was certainly older-looking, and stubble dusted his jaw where it met with where his hair had grown out. You wondered if it was as strange for him to see you and how much you’d aged as it was for you to see him like this.

“Jamie,” you whispered, “come back to me.”

Finally, as your hand cupped his cheek, he turned to look at you. Even with a face that was hard to recognize at times, the eyes that met yours were undoubtedly your brother’s. Darker, yes, and clearly tired from everything they’d seen, but as blue and perfect as always.

"When you call me that,” he spoke, eyes scanning your face, “it's like no time has passed at all. It's like I'm still the same boy I was the day I left."

You swallowed. "But you aren't, are you?"

He shook his head, just barely.

“Hey, listen to me,” you instructed, getting more serious and refusing to let him break the eye contact. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve seen, or what you’ve done. You’re my brother. You’re my best friend. You’re my whole world—”

You choked up a little, but kept going.

“—and I’m glad you’re home, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, smiling that crooked smirk that made your heart melt every time.

“You still want those eggs?”

He nodded a little.

“Basted?”

“Yeah, basted,” he agreed, turning back to the table as you stood up and returned to the stove.

“Your room’s the same as it was when you left,” you told him as you cracked the first egg into the hot pan. You were sort of nervous to bring up anything about that, but you thought he might find it comforting.

“I don’t think I’m ready to go in there yet,” he admitted.

“Stay in my room tonight, then. It’s almost the same as it was then, too…”

“I’m amazed that bed can still fit you; are you sure we’ll both be able to sleep on it?” he asked.

“Oh, I was gonna give you the bed and make myself a pallet on the floor!” you clarified, wondering how he ever thought the two of you could share a bed; you hadn’t since you were little little-- like, under ten-years-old little.

But when you turned to look at him again, he seemed genuinely disappointed. "Of course I can't let you sleep on the floor. You take the bed; I've got a lot of practice with sleeping on the ground anyhow."

That was the last thing you wanted, him reminded of what it was like out there.

"We'll share the bed," you announced. "If I take off all the plushies and decorative pillows, there might just be room for you."

"Woah woah woah," Bucky raised his arms as if to motion for you to slow down. "We can't just go evicting Mr. Hoppy! He's been a full-time resident of your bed for the past twenty years!"

You both laughed, and it was almost like old times.

"He'd happily move over for you, Jamie."

The two of you brushed your teeth side-by-side in silence; you waited for him to finish his shower while you turned down the sheets, scooping up everything decorative on the bed and tossing it into the chair in the corner.

You choked a little when he stepped into your room with only a towel around his waist, using another to rub his hair dry.

"Don't you have some pyjamas?" you asked awkwardly. "No matter— I actually have some of the pants you used to wear right here."

You pulled the checkered pants from your closet, and handed them to him as he nodded gratefully; you barely turned around fast enough to look away before he dropped his towel.

"Why do you have these in here anyways?" he asked as you tried to ignore the sounds of the fabric brushing over his bare skin.

"I wear them, sometimes," you admitted, feeling your face get a little warm, "when I miss you."

"Well, I'm here now," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you from the back and pulling you into a hug. You could feel the warmth of his chest and arms burning right through your silky shift. You almost wished you had worn something thicker; and yet, somehow, you also wished that there was no fabric in the way at all.

Slipping under the comforter together, you wondered if it was odd that he was cuddling up to you. You didn't mind it, since it was the most like the brother you remembered that he'd been all day, but some part of you was worried what people would think if they knew.

You brushed the thought aside. Nobody would know anyways.

He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you basked in how small it made you feel. "You smell the same as before, sissy."

You used to hate that nickname but now it was beyond welcome. It reminded you of simpler times.

"I hope that's a good thing," you replied.

"It's a wonderful thing. The day your handkerchief stopped smelling like you was the day I thought I would lose all hope," he recalled.

You remembered when he took it; he said he wanted something to remember you by, and you'd responded by telling him to just forget about you because obviously he never loved you at all.

"I was so cruel to you that day," you cringed. "I hate myself so much for that..."

"Hey, hey," he got your attention with a soft plea, guiding your chin until you were looking up at him with watery eyes. "You were a kid. I was, too. You acted out, it happens."

"But I said things that weren't true, Jamie— awful, terrible things…"

"I never believed them," he assured you with a smile.

"We promised to never lie to each other," you whimpered, "and I broke that promise."

He shook his head. "It's all in the past now. Just be honest with me from now on, and I'll keep every promise I made."

You remembered a pinky swear made up in the highest branches of a tree: a promise to never be apart. He'd broken that one, but maybe he wouldn't do it again. The thought made your heart flutter.

"Be honest," he instructed you again.

"Always," you agreed.

"Do you love me?" he asked, so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"O-of course," you answered quickly, stuttering not because of any lack of surety but simply from wondering how he could ever question that.

Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, his thumb and forefinger still holding your chin. For a brief moment it felt believable as a familial kiss.

But then it didn't.

He began to move his mouth against yours, and instantly you pulled back, looking at him with what you figured must have been an expression of stunned confusion. "Jamie," you mumbled in disbelief.

"I missed you so much," he purred, seeming to ignore your reluctance. "Don't break my heart, sissy, I just want a kiss."

"I can't kiss you like that," you shook your head.

"Please? You have no idea how lonely I've been, how hard it was without you…"

You felt guilty for his pain, and you had always hated to deny him of anything. The absolute second that you gave him a hesitant nod, he dove right back in, kissing you deeper and harder than before. His tongue forced its way into your mouth but you couldn't pull back; his arm had somehow gotten to the back of your neck, holding you close to him.

You whimpered with confusion when you felt his other hand moving up your leg and slipping under your nightgown. He smiled against your lips when his fingertips brushed over your hips and he realized that you weren't wearing undergarments. You internally cursed yourself for it, even though it was normal not to wear anything underneath a gown like this. What was abnormal was what he was doing.

"You're so smooth, and soft," he murmured, just barely pulling back from the kiss, "and I know you want me so bad—"

Just as his hand started to move dangerously close to somewhere it was definitely not supposed to be, you reached down and stopped him by grabbing his forearm.

"D-don't," you managed to stammer out.

"Don't?" he repeated incredulously. "Well, why not?"

"It's wrong…" you explained weakly.

"Such a good little girl, just like always," he chuckled. "You haven't changed at all. Except, of course, this incredible body…"

It was much too easy for him to wriggle out of your grip, pulling out from your nightgown only to reach up and roughly grab your breasts through it. Your face was burning and your gut sank with fear— and yet, there was a paradoxical tingle of arousal burning between your legs.

"You've grown a lot while I was gone," Bucky noticed aloud, groaning softly as he felt you up. "Almost didn't recognize you when I stepped in. I saw those gorgeous legs of yours and thought, 'who's the fox and what's she doing in my house?' Of course, by the time I'd realized it was my kid sister, it was too late."

"It's not too late," you desperately assured, "you can stop now, and we won't tell anybody, and it'll be like nothing ever happened—"

You stopped as he started laughing lowly, shaking his head. "Sweetheart, I'm not coming back from this, don't you understand? You were all I thought about while I was gone. You're the only girl I ever loved."

His hips pressed forward and you gasped when you felt his erection pressing into your thigh. You bit down on your lip to keep it from quivering; for some reason, you didn't want him to know how scared you were.

"Feel that?" he asked, grinning when you nodded nervously. "That's how much I love you."

You stammered helplessly as he reached down between your legs again.

"Time to find out how much you love me," he purred, and you were frozen; paralyzed. Two of his thick fingers swiped through your folds, gathering the arousal they found there. "Oh, you love me quite a lot."

"I— I don't—"

"Take this thing off," he demanded suddenly, grabbing your nightgown. You shook your head. "I'm not gonna ask you again," he informed you sternly. "Take it off or I'm gonna rip it off'a you."

You shook your head again, tears flowing freely until you felt wet patches beside your face on your pillow.

Bucky growled and manhandled you onto your back, grabbing at your nightgown and pushing your arms out of the way when they reached up to cover your chest.

He tore through it like it was paper. "Look at you," he murmured in awe, "all grown up."

"James," you sobbed, "what are you doing?!"

"I'm taking care of you!" he responded, seemingly confused that you would even ask that. "You're my baby sister; I promised to always take care of you and I meant it."

"This isn't right," you whispered, partially to him but mostly to yourself.

"This is the only thing that's right," Bucky disagreed, leaning down a little to hover over you as he began to push his pants down.

You recoiled when you saw his cock; you hadn't seen one before, except in drawings. They hadn’t prepared you for this. His looked big, red at the tip like it was angry; leaking and throbbing like it was desperate.

"You a virgin, sissy?" he asked in a way that made it hard to tell if he was being genuine or mocking you.

You nodded; you'd promised to be honest, after all.

"You were saving yourself for me," he informed you, and before you could deny it, he continued, saying everything like it was obvious fact. "You knew you needed me. You knew you'd only be satisfied by your big brother's cock."

You shook your head as tears welled in your eyes, your protests muffled as he roughly kissed you again. You tried to push him away but he was like marble, hard and unyielding. You felt his sex sliding over yours and it made you feel dizzy and a little nauseous.

"You know how long I've dreamed of being inside you?" he asked darkly, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know how long I've wanted to get a taste of this perfect little cunt? I'll give you a hint: it was before I left."

He ignored your sobs of fear and cries of pain, and pushed his hips forward; he groaned as his cock forced your walls to part, and you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

"Oh god," he moaned weakly when he bottomed out, "oh my fucking god… you feel so perfect, sissy. You feel so fucking good, I swear I could come right now. I could fill you up—" he pulled back out most of the way and shuddered— "right fucking now."

"N-no, Jamie," you sobbed, "you have to pull out, you can't come inside!"

"Why not?" he pouted, slamming into you so hard that you were forced to choke out your cry of pain. "I think you want it. I think I deserve it. I could get you pregnant and then you'd be mine forever."

"No!" you sobbed. "Please, you can't!"

"I can," he assured you coldly through his teeth, his arm wrapping around your neck to hold you steady as he fucked into you. "I can, little girl, and I'm gonna."

Tears streamed down your face, even as you let yourself admit that your brother's movements inside you did feel… intriguing, to say the least. He buried his face into your neck, fucking you deep but slow. You'd never felt so full before; you wrapped your legs around his hips before you could stop yourself.

"Fuck," he groaned, "you want me so damn bad, don't you? You always wanted me. I remember how you got so jealous when I lost it to Betsy Miller."

As sick as it was, you had; and even now, imagining him doing this with her made your stomach twist.

"You want me all to yourself, don't you, sissy?"

Shamefully, you nodded.

"Aw, it's okay," he soothed. "You've got me, sis. 'M never gonna leave ya. We're gonna be together forever, just like we always said."

That was all you'd ever wanted. Why did it sound so terrifying now?

"I can feel you squeezin' me, babydoll. I know you wanna come all over my cock," he taunted.

"N-no," you stumbled over your denial, but pleasure was searing through you faster than you could handle it.

"Beg me to fill up this little pussy," he instructed as his eyes got darker and a hand wrapped around your throat. "Beg or you don't get to breathe."

"Please," you moaned through your tears, "please, fill up my— my little pussy…"

"Yeah? You want my come?"

He started thrusting faster and you could feel the way your arousal had spread to coat both his thighs and yours; why was your body so responsive?

"Please, Jamie, I want your come," you repeated. "I need it…"

"I know you do," he snarled, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. "I know you do, baby, I know you need my come."

"Please…" you repeated one last time, the word coming out choked and weak as you felt your own orgasm starting to crash into you, your whole body tightening involuntarily.

"Fuck, I can feel you coming— 'm close, sissy, I'm not gonna last much— oh fuck��!"

His hips stuttered to a stop and you winced as you felt him flexing inside you, pumping his load into you for what felt like ages.

He collapsed on top of you with a sigh and a smile. "I wanted to last longer, even jerked off in the shower to try to take the edge off but… you just felt too good."

You were silent and still beneath him as he rambled, kissing away your tears between each word.

"I'll take better care of you next time, sis, don't worry. Wanna make you come with just my tongue," he announced excitedly. "But that'll wait until tomorrow. Tonight you just relax, and don't move too much so I can stay inside you. It's the only way I'm gonna be able to sleep."

He hugged you all night, drifting off even while you were wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

You were horrified at what your brother had become, and at what he had done to you. But that wasn't what kept you awake. No, you couldn't sleep because you were too busy trying to deny how much you had enjoyed it.

#tw incest #bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky smut #dark!bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes non con

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satoruvt · 4 years ago

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for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible.

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair.

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go.

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it.

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick.

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything.

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. ��Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first.

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long.

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will.

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly.

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #the8 x reader #the8 imagine #svt the8 x reader #seventeen the8 x reader #svt the8 imagine #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao imagine #svt minghao x reader #seventeen minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao imagine #pieces of you

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spacedikut · 4 years ago

Text

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?��

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol

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sombreboy · 5 years ago

Text

Unsullied | yandere!pjm (E)

▎ 18+ / Explicit ▎ xtremity; 8 ▎ pairing: PJM x Y/N ▎ genre: pwp smut, dubcon, yandere, some angst, tiny amount of fluff ▎ word count: 7.4k ▎ warnings: heavy stockholm syndrome, stalking, cursing, sadistic!jimin, possessive/obsessive/delusional behavior, toxic relationship, manipulative!jimin, mentions of malnourishment, innocent/virgin!y/n, he calls you babygirl a lot, daddy kink, unprotected sex, dirtytalk, dubcon, mentions of blood, impegnation kink, fucking while pregnant, spanking/whipping, bruising, rough sex, oral/facefucking, choking, exhibitionism, forced voyerism, angst, death of side character(member), vague descriptions of murder. Idk if I’ve covered all warnings, but basically; don’t read this if you’re sensitive to any of these things.

A/N: This is from an older rp of mine with 🍎anon, some of you might recognize it! I know many of you missed it and asked about it..so, here it is. ♡

"Jiminie!" You shouted through the door of the locked room you had been caged inside of, "You can't do this to me! I'm not a toy you can keep locked up and play with whenever you like... I have friends, family, they will search for me! Please Jimin, just let me go!’’

Jimin was sitting on the floor, leaned against the wall outside of your room, glancing over at the locked door.

He sighed before responding, “It’s for your own good, Y/N! The last time I let you out, you tried to run away, I simply can’t risk that again. Don’t you understand?! You’re safer with me! I can take care of you!”

You made your way to the queen-sized bed. Jimin had the room decorated just for you, and you had to admit, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. Hand-painted flowers on the walls, a fireplace in the corner, a bookcase with all of your favorites and a big window, locked of course, showing the green forest outside. You had resisted giving in to Jimin for months now, but you started to get tired and lonely.

Maybe you should just give up even though you’re scared?

"Jimin. I don't want to be alone.", You began to cry, your voice breaking as you spoke.

Jimin got up to stand by the door, placing his hand on it to let his fingers smooth over the strong material it was made of. He hated to hear your cries, he hated that you continuously rejected him.

But he was patient. He knew you’d give in eventually.

Or at least, he hoped, “Y/n… shh, you’re not alone, okay? Hear me? I’m here. I’ve always been here, y/n… you’ve got me.”

You heard Jimin’s soft, reassuring words. But.. you also remembered times when he hadn't been that gentle.

A few days after Jimin had brought you here you'd hit him in an attempt to escape. You hadn't made it very far. He'd been furious and chained you to the bed, screaming at you for not being obedient.

But that was months ago now. And… well, maybe it had been your own fault.

Jimin just wanted to protect you, didn't he? Maybe it wasn't so bad to be loved by him? "Jimin...Please come.." You sobbed by now, begging for him to comfort you.

A wolfish grin pulled on his lips. Did he finally break you? Did he finally make you realize that nobody would ever love you as much as he does?

“I’m coming, angel, don’t cry.” He cooed, hurrying to unlock the door and step inside, eyes instantly finding you curled up on your bed. He’s missed seeing your face like this, otherwise only being able to see you through the monitors in the hidden cameras, or the vague interactions of placing the occasional plate of food in your room.

He jogged over to sit down next to you, hands cupping your cheeks to examine your face, “I’m here, my love.”

You felt Jimin’s hands caress your cheeks, eyes fluttering open to look at him. It felt so good to be close to someone again after all this time spent in isolation. You raised your hands, weak after being malnourished, and drove your fingers gently through Jimin’s soft hair.

‘‘My sweet, dear angel…” Jimin muttered, a small smile on his lips at your willingness to touch him. He would’ve groaned in joy at the way your fingers felt through his locks.

He swipes your dried tears off your cheeks with his thumbs, hands moving to wrap around your small frame in his embrace, pulling you close to press your face into his chest. He inhales your scent, the vague scent he loved so much still there.

You stiffened a bit when you were pushed against Jimin's chest. But, you thought, it felt quite nice. Jimin’s embrace was warm and despite everything; you felt safe. So you relaxed and leaned in further. His own scent calming to your senses, your body melting into his warmth.

The two of you remain like this for a while, your breathing slowly regaining it’s normalcy, tears dried long ago. Softly, he continuously combed his fingers through your hair, a soft humming vibrating in his chest, ‘’You’re okay, baby... ‘’, Jimin withdrew just enough to be able to look you in the eye, his hand holding your cheek, as if he was keeping you in place, ‘’I’ll never leave you.’’ Your doe eyes meet his, fixated on you before he draws you in for a sweet kiss. It was delicate, slow, and filled with his obsession-..affection for you.

He continued to kiss you, drawing your body closer to his… And that’s when you felt something pressing against your lower stomach. Even though you were inexperienced, you weren't stupid. If Jimin wanted you, well, maybe you should just give your all to him? So that he could trust you?

"Jiminie..." You mumbled, blushing. "I... I've never... you know... been with anyone before..."

Jimin let his hands smooth down your back until they settle at your hips, lifting you to straddle his lap. He stares up at you with a piercing gaze, but it softens with his smile, his eyes morphing into the shape of small crescent moons, “I’d be your first.’’ He shines with joy as he states this, “It’s okay, babygirl... I’ll take care of you…’’

You gasped as Jimin’s hands roamed your body. His smile told you everything you needed to know, he was pleased with you and that, maybe a bit unexpectedly, made you happy too. You moved and made yourself comfortable on his lap, met his gaze, blushed and said, "What do you want me to do... d-daddy?".

‘‘Take off your shirt, babygirl.” Jimin purred, his fingers already working to help you pull it off for you. You felt his erection grow underneath you, he had been pining for this moment for forever.

You shivered when Jimin’s fingers met your bare skin and the top was thrown on the floor. Jimin’s stare on your naked form made you shy and hesitant and you tried to cover yourself. The blush on your cheeks never ends, "J-jimin" you whispered. "Why did you choose me? W-will... you always keep me here?"

Jimin wrapped his fingers around your wrists to stop you from covering yourself, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands move to smooth over the soft skin of your chest, his breath shaking as he exhales, “It has always been you, baby. It’s just the way it is. My heart beats for you, my entire existence is for you… and just the thought of you,” he paused as he looked frustrated from just thinking about it, “the thought of you finding the wrong path with somebody else makes me angry… so I had to show you the right path. Everyone else wants to hurt you... I don’t... I love you.”

Your eyes widened slightly at Jimin’s statement. Of course, he'd told you many times already that he loved you, but somehow it felt a bit different this time. Never before had anyone cared so much for you. You smiled shyly at Jimin and dragged your right hand from his shoulder to his collarbone and the beginning of his t-shirt, dragging it, wanting him to take it off, "No one has said such things to me before... I want to be good for you Jiminie...", you said as your arousal grew stronger.

He wasn’t used to your willingness, always had to struggle for your affection. But now, you were finally his, giving yourself over to him. He thanked the gods for making you realize that you belong with him, a smile on his face, lower lip clamped between his teeth, removing his shirt to reveal his torso for you. It was strong, he worked out frequently to make sure he would always have more stamina than you, be able to protect you if needed.. Or catch you if you attempted another escape. And when he wasn’t working out, his love for dance kept his stamina high, ‘’I will remind you every single day how much I love you, babygirl.’’

A quiet gasp pushed through your lips at Jimin’s revealed torso. Never had you allowed yourself to think so before, but well... he was truly beautiful, "But... d-daddy. What if someone starts searching for me, and takes me away from you?" With unsure hands you made patterns on his skin, drawing lower and lower. Did you really dare? Touch him... down there? You looked up again, with eyes begging for guidance.

His lips parted, a small breath in excitement at your needy eyes. Your hands felt amazing on his skin, slightly cold, but it was okay. He was gonna feed you well from now on, you’re so well behaved for him, ‘’Don’t worry about that, my love. I took care of it long ago... Nobody’s looking for you.’’ At least, that’s what he believed. He placed his hands over yours, slowly guiding your fingers down to palm his erection through his pants, ‘’Besides, I would never, ever... ever... let anybody take you away from me.’’ He growled out the words with a lower voice.

Maybe you should feel worried by Jimin’s words, a few months ago you would probably have been furious and scared. But somehow, that had changed, and now it just made you feel fuzzy inside. It also made your arousal grow even more.

You inhaled a sharp breath when Jimin’s fingers guided you to his erection. As if on instinct you palmed him through his jeans and squeezed his length softly, "Does that feel good daddy? Am I being a good girl?" You stuttered slightly, "I-I think I want... uh... to see all of you..."

Jimin moans quietly underneath your touch, nodding as he leans in to press a soft kiss on your lips, “It feels heavenly my baby girl…” he helps you this time, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his underwear in one go below his hips, just enough for him to expose himself, “Don’t be shy, my love, this is all yours… I’m yours… please touch me.”

Your cheeks are tinted, but you try to ignore your embarrassment since Jimin seems so comfortable in his nudity. The kiss from Jimin leaves you needy for more, so you gently meet his lips again, letting him take control. He leaves you breathless. You don't actually know what you are doing, but you're hellbent on pleasing him so that's why you place yourself between his legs and drop down to your knees. While looking him in the eyes, you carefully lick the tip of his cock, anticipating his reaction.

Jimin cooes with approval, spreading his legs for you to position yourself properly in between, “What a good, good girl you are…” He breathes out quietly, the warmth of your tongue making his breathing heavier, “Keep going, you’re doing so well.” He urges you to continue.

His approval makes you bolder. You place your hands on his thighs, caressing them softly, while trying to fit more of his cock in your mouth and sucking gently. While you keep looking Jimin in the eyes, you see so much emotion. How could you ever have thought that they portrayed anything but love? If you love someone, you protect them from harm, and that was what Jimin had done. You were grateful, "Daddy... my panties feel sticky..." you mumbled.

Jimins jaw went slack, mouth hanging open in awe as he stared down at you in admiration, “You’re so fucking pretty.” He praised, one hand caressing your cheek before it moves to gently run his finger through your hair. Brittle, weak. But he would fix that. He was gonna give you your strength back now that you deserved it. He cooes at your little shy comments, “My little babygirl is wet already? You want me that badly, hm?”

You'd decided. Since Jimin had done so much for you, you'd do this for him. You nodded, "Mhm, daddy, I'm ready. I-I need you."

Jimin smiles at your words, grabbing onto your arms to pull you back up into the bed. He gently lays you down on your back before positioning himself between your legs on his knees, hands softly taking their time to roam over your every curve from your torso down to your thighs, ‘’My needy girl, my beautiful y/n... my everything.’’ He breathes out quietly.

It hurts when Jimin pushes into you, you’d be lying if you told yourself otherwise. But the look he gives you, the happiness and satisfaction, makes you think it's worth it. Isn't this what everyone wants? To have someone close, that cares and loves you? How silly you were before, you think, trying to reject this. You feel Jimin’s speed increasing, fucking into you harder, almost feeling like you’re being torn apart due to the very little time you were given to adjust to his size… and something starts to stir in you. It feels good. You whimper and moan, "D-daddy...uh... p-please".

Jimin started off gently, but you felt too good, he quickly became greedy. The sweat on his chest glistens as it drips down onto you, his whiny, needy moans pushing through his lips with every snap of his hips. He was so happy to finally feel you, and for you to finally feel him, ‘’You’re so good to me, babygirl, you make me feel so good...s-shit...’’

Jimin angles your leg over his shoulder, which makes you feel him deeper than before. He finds the spot that makes you shake with pleasure, and with just a few thrusts you've lost it. You take a hold of his biceps, nails digging into his skin, surely leaving a mark. Giving in to pleasure as you've never felt before, you clamp down on Jimin’s cock- feeling it throb inside you, "Aaahh... d-daddy it feels good." You moan. "You make me... feel so so good daddy."

Jimin didn’t even attempt to remain silent, mouth hanging open in pleasure as he thrusts into you with precise, forceful movements. All the time spent working out was paying off, being able to pleasure you like this was all he ever wanted, “Yeah?’’ He loves your praise, “Tell me how much you love me, babygirl...’’ His voice was strained, his hips losing it’s precise rhythm as he feels himself getting closer, he just needs that little bit of verbal praise to get himself there, “Tell me you want to stay with me forever, f-fuck... I promise to take care of you like this every day.’’

You shake and stutter from the overstimulation and the exhaustion, but the need to please Jimin is stronger, "Y-you are the first one to make me feel this way dadd-y, and the only one who ever will. I promise to stay with you, I-I want to stay with you daddy. I'm only yours."

Jimin smiled, a wicked look on his face as he stares down at you with a possessive look, “Yes, good babygirl, you’re mine.’’ He moans in between his words, hips pushing as deep as physically possible into you, keeping himself still when he cums. He didn’t care that neither of you had any protection, relishing in the thought of possibly impregnating you. He breathes heavily, looking down at where the two of you are joined together before slowly pulling himself out, slumping down to lay down next to you, pulling you close to embrace you in his arms.

Your heart beats erratically when Jimin puts his arms around you. Bringing you as close as physically possible, as if you together are one. You feel his cum dripping out of you but can't bring yourself to care. Slowly, your eyes fluttered closed, sleep overtaking you.

~~~

You wake up before Jimin does. His arms still securely hold you into place. You glance across the room, noticing the door Jimin in his haste forgot to lock. You carefully unwrap his arms, tiptoeing across the room, and make your way downstairs...

Jimin is fast asleep, groaning quietly when you carefully untangle yourself from his arms. He grabbed a pillow, hugging it as if it was you, continuing to sleep for a little longer.

For the first time since coming, you got the chance to look around a bit in the house Jimin had brought you to. As you imagined, the kitchen was downstairs -big and bright. You strolled over to the fridge, noticing a lack of ingredients for the breakfast you wanted to make for Jimin. So you carefully went up again, put on your clothes, searched for, and found, his wallet and then made your way out the front door.

Jimin woke up when the sun was shining through the window, he sat up with a groan and rubbed his eyes, “Ah I slept in late, babygirl…” He noticed the lack of response, eyes widening as he sees you’re not here, “Y/N?!” He quickly got dressed, seeing the door wide open. He felt his heart drop, did you just lie this entire time? Did you gain his trust just to leave him, and break his heart? He felt angry, seeing you left the front door unlocked, and his wallet was missing. His anger boiled inside of him, growling out as he swung his fist into the wall, causing his knuckles to get bloody and bruised. The thought of you leaving made him feel everything at once. He was determined to bring you back and, sadly, needed to punish you for leaving… Trying to leave. He didn’t know your true intentions, however. But you should’ve known better than to leave unannounced.

The sun was shining when you were on your way back home to Jimin’s place from the local supermarket. You had found everything you wanted, even fresh strawberries! Jimin would be so happy and pleased with you, that's what you thought at least. However, when you entered through the front door, your good mood died instantly. Standing in front of you stood Jimin, fuming with anger, towering over your smaller frame, "J-jimin?" You whimpered.

“Where have you been?!” Was the first thing he growled out as he closed the door was slammed shut, pushing your back against it as he clawed at your shoulders in a tight grip, startling you so that you dropped your bags, ‘’Why did you leave me?!” He started to feel paranoid, for all he knows you would have contacted the cops. He locked the door, eyes piercing down at you and his nostrils flaring with the heavy breaths he was taking.

You didn't understand his reaction. Didn't he see that you were trying to be good for him?, "J-jimin please... you're hurting me." You said feeling his nails dig into your shoulder. With tears falling and fear in your eyes, you mumbled, "I just wanted to make you breakfast..."

Jimin’s lower lip was clamped between his teeth, so hard it almost drew blood. He had issues with his temper, and even if he heard your intentions, he was still.. So angry, “Babygirl, you can’t leave the house without me. Not with the way you look… it will draw unnecessary attention towards us, and they could take you away from me.” He looked at you, his eyes softening at your cries. He pulled you in for a hug, his bloody knuckles staining your clothes, “You promised you’d be my good girl, right?” He was trembling, with both anger and worry, his voice still stern.

His still stern voice didn't ease your fear, even though he also hugged you. When he released his arms around you, the bloody knuckles were made visible to you. You gasped and with care took one of his hands in yours and tried to meet his gaze, "I-I'm sorry Jiminie. I want to be your good girl, I really do. I'm so so sorry." Your voice broke, "I don't want anyone to take me away from you. Promise you won't let anyone take me!" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks, feeling guilty because he had hurt himself because of you.

His eyes looked sad, as if you broke his heart, “You need to listen to me, my love.” His eyes squinted with frustration, holding your hand in his as he presses kisses against your cheek, “How can I trust you when you sneak out without me?” He kisses down to your neck, before landing a harsh bite that’ll leave a mark, “Now I have to teach you a lesson again...” he sighed, he didn’t want to keep punishing you. But it was necessary, or you would learn that it’s okay to defy him.

You instinctively tried to jump away when Jimin bit your neck, but it was useless. His hold on you was too strong. Of course you wanted his trust, but not his lessons, "Jiminie, please" you sobbed, "I won't do it again, I will behave."

But to no avail. You saw no mercy in Jimin's eyes...

Jimin shook his head, clicking his tongue before letting you go, “Take off your clothes.” He said coldly while he was picking up the bags of groceries, leaving it on the kitchen table as he waited for you to follow his instructions, “And get on your knees.”

It was as if you had two different sides. One part of you wanted to oblige to everything Jimin said, to prove worthy of his love. But then there was also a part of you that felt wronged. You hadn't done anything other than wanting to make Jimin happy, why should you be punished for that? Your thoughts made you hesitate, and therefore you didn't get down on your knees fast enough...

Jimin felt impatient, and his hands roughly pressed on your shoulders to force you down on your knees in front of him, “When I say get on your knees, you get on your knees, babygirl.”

You stumbled down, and felt bruises beginning to take form on your knees from the rough treatment. The part of you that felt wronged grew, so when Jimin took a hold of your face you instantly snatched your head away from him.

Jimin crouched down, once more grabbing your jaw between his fingers, nails digging into your cheeks, “What’s going on with you today?” He stared into your eyes, eyebrows drawn together in frustration, “Since when did you become such a bad girl? Where did my good girl go? The one that obeys me and makes me proud?”

You have no choice but to look Jimin in the eyes, disappointment in you evident. It made you whimper. You didn't really want to, but you knew it would be worse for you if you didn't comply. If this was what you had to do to gain his trust, so be it, "I'll be good daddy." You said while waiting for your punishment.

Jimin smiles, satisfied with your answer, “That’s the girl I love.”

He roughly let go of your jaw, standing up straight in front of you. “Take off my belt, and hand it to me. I’m not helping you.”

You set your gaze on Jimin's growing erection. With unsteady hands you grasp his buckle, feeling Jimin's eyes on you -watching your every move. Since your fingers are shaking it takes a few tries for you to get the buckle open. When you do, you carefully drag the belt out from his jeans and hand it to him. When you meet his eyes again... well, you feel like a prey ready to be devoured.

He tightly grasps the belt in his hand, a wicked smile on his face, “Get up,” he kicks at you with his foot, “Go and put your hands against the wall, and arch your back, show me your pretty little ass.”, He snaps the belt against his palm like a whip, tongue swiping across his teeth. It was time for your punishment.

Your legs wobble a bit when you try to stand up, but you do as Jimin says. Put your shaking hands against the wall and bend down making your ass stand out. And then you wait, whimpering, for what's to come.

“Such a well behaved babygirl for me.”, He cooed as he sauntered over to stand behind you. He doesn’t touch you, simply lets you stand there for a moment, exposed and unknowing of what’s coming and when, “You must be so embarrassed that you dared to disobey, hmm? Tell me how sorry you are.”

You whimper again, really feeling exposed in this position and also vulnerable not being able to see what Jimin is doing. With a stutter you say, "I-I just wanted to make you happy daddy. I'm sorry, I didn't think about how dangerous the outside world is, I'll never go without your permission again daddy. I promise to be obedient." While hoping this will make him ease his punishment for you.

Jimin didn’t care about your apology, he just wanted to hear your high pitched cries, relishing in how embarrassed you were to be exposed to him like this. His cock throbbed in his pants at the view, “Good... now be a good girl and don’t move an inch.”

He knows it’d be hard for you to stand like that for too long, because he wants you to fail, so he could punish you more. He whips the belt once more, this time the leather smacking against your ass, hard, immediately leaving a bruise on your skin.

You scream out loud at the feeling of Jimin’s belt against your skin. Instantly you must focus to keep your legs from giving up, "It hurts daddy" you cry.

Jimins cock throbs once more at the sounds you make, he palms himself through his pants with one hand as the other whips the belt against the plump of your ass once more, “You deserve it, don’t you? Tell me you’ve been a bad girl.”

The marks on your ass were stinging with pain. Your legs start to fail you, and you realize that you won't be able to hold them up much longer, "Daddy, I've been such a bad girl, I'm sorry. I'll always do as you say from now on, I promise!’" You try to turn your head to face Jimin and plead with him.

He loves the way your tears trickle down your cheeks, his smile sparkled with pride. His eyes were dilated with lust for you, and he steps closer, wrapping the belt around your throat with one hand as he smacks your ass with the other, pushing your chest against the wall as he pulls your neck back to lay your head on his shoulder, “I love you babygirl. You’re taking the punishment so well…. Do you want a reward? Hm? How badly do you want it?”

Jimin's belt around your neck makes you gasp for air, so much so that you start to see black spots in the outskirts of your vision. The pain is almost unbearable, but somewhere inside you feel yourself liking the rough treatment. This was Jimin’s way of showing love. After all, he only did this to protect you from your own stupid decisions, "I-I want a reward daddy, please, I'll do anything for you." You try to say while gasping for air.

Jimin had a wolfish grin on his face, letting the belt fall freely still attached to your neck, giving you his full attention with both hands as he snakes his hands around your torso to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples roughly, pinching them as he licks your cheek, ‘’My best girl, you finally earned your reward…’’ His voice was raspy with lust, rutting against your ass with his prominent bulge, making a point out of what exactly this reward was going to be.

You feel the blood rushing, making your cheeks red and you almost feel feverish. It's as if you have no control over your body, and you can't help the moan slipping out when Jimin cups your breasts and licks your cheek. His hard erection makes you wet. Lust takes over and all you can think about is that you want to feel him inside you again, "Jimin, daddy, p-please, I need you."

‘‘Again, baby? You’re so needy, I fucking love it...” He kisses down your neck, his hand travelling down to cup your pussy, his fingers teasing between your soppy folds, ‘‘What do you need, baby? Tell me, and I might give it to you.”

You want to oblige, but the words you think Jimin wants to hear feel so foreign in your mouth. But you try to put that aside and focus on the pleasure you feel from Jimin's fingers, "I-I want to feel you inside daddy." You moan loudly when his fingers continuously tease you, "It felt so good, so... uh... good daddy, when you came in last night. Please give it to me again. D-don't you want me daddy?"

Jimin nods hurriedly, sweat forming on his forehead as he can’t keep the smile on his lips away, his hands once again travelling from your pussy to remove his pants completely, unbuttoning his shirt so it reveals his glistening torso, letting the shirt hang freely, clinging to his biceps, “Arch your back, love, show me your pretty little pussy.’’

Your dripping pussy is on display, but you're both so emotionally dried out and physically tired that you don't care about the bit of embarrassment you really feel. You turn your head, catching a glimpse of Jimin looking like a predator in his ace. Like last night, Jimin doesn't care to prepare you with his fingers. You feel the tip of his cock nudge your pussy and moan out, "Oh my god, daddy, please I just need you inside me now." You say as you try to push yourself closer to him.

“Hush, babygirl, be patient,” he smiles as he speaks, his wolfish grin never ceasing as he finally gives you want you need with a harsh thrust of his hips, filling you up with his cock in one stroke, “Ah, fuck…you’re so delicious.” He bites his lower lip, keeping his hips still as he enjoys simply feeling your tight warmth embrace his length.

Jimin’s hard thrust makes you gasp for air. You are still sore from last night, but you've come to enjoy the pain, "You feel so good inside me Jiminie, a-aah." Even though he just punished you for not being obedient, you ignore his words about being "patient" as you whimper and try to wiggle your ass to make him move.

His palm lands flat with a smack on your bruised ass when you move, his hands moving back to grasp your hips so roughly that his nails were drawing blood from your skin, pulling his cock out of you, “Are you going to be a bad girl again?” He loved the mutual pining he tortured himself and you with. He wanted to fuck you dumb right fucking now, but making you suffer and whine was one of his favorite guilty pleasures.

It feels as if your legs are giving up. If it weren't for Jimin's painfully digging fingers on your hip holding you up, you'd probably already be on the floor. Your bruised ass and Jimin's cock leaving you makes tears once again form in your eyes, "No, I'm sorry s-sir, I'll be still, be a good girl." You try to steady yourself, face against the wall, waiting, just to prove it, "C-Can I get my reward now?"

“Ahh, good girl,” he cooes, pushing himself back into you, instantly beginning a brutal phase of fucking his fat cock into you, no regards towards how weak your legs must be by now, pushing your chest against the wall and a tight hold on your hips to keep you up. Every thrust causes your body to jolt forward and smack against the wall with a thud.

It feels as if you're going to pass out in any moment, both from pain but also the immense amount of pleasure you feel from Jimin's rough thrusts. You're nearing your edge. Just one small push. Maybe you've learnt your lesson after all, because instead of doing what your body begs you to, rub your clit, you ask for permission, "Sir, please you feel too good, aa-h I'm so close. Oh, sir please make me cum. I want to cum with you inside me." No longer caring about the foul words leaving your mouth.

Jimin pushes himself as close to you as possible, fucking into you in such a way that it was as if he was trying to fuse himself with you, his heavy breath fanning your neck as he kisses it softly, a big contrast to the way he’s fucking into you, “Such a good babygirl asking so nicely,” he keeps kissing below your ear, his low moans so needy, one of his hands snaking down to rub your clit in precise, swift circles, “Cum around my cock, my love, please.”

He wasn’t a begging type of guy, but saying please made his insides stir, making you feel like you were needed, an illusion of you having even a small amount of power over him.

Hearing Jimin beg and his expert hands on your clit is all it takes for you to let go and cum. You can't help but scream when the ecstasy spreads through your body. Your legs are finally giving up, you're like a doll in Jimin's hands. Despite not having any energy left, you still feel the immense need to be good for Jimin. As your pussy is clutching around his cock you say, "Sir, p-please I want to feel you cum inside. Fill me up, o-oh sir, put a baby in me and show everyone who I belong to."

Jimin moans loudly at your words, his hand on your clit moving up to wrap around your throat as his hips piston into you, greedy and needy to chase his own high, your cunt squeezing him so tight that it takes merely minutes for him to reach his peak, hips stuttering as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as physically possible, filling you up with his cum, “I’m hoping you get pregnant, my babygirl... I’m going to cum inside of you every single day until you’re swollen with my child. Fuck, I love you so much...” he slowly rocks his hips back and forth, his cum forced to dribble out of you from his movements as he whimpers from oversensitivity, guiding your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

With the last bit of energy you have, you meet his lips. Thinking about Jimin’s words and feeling his cum roll down the inside of your legs, you feel quite pleased. The prospect of having Jimin’s child, being bound to him forever, once would have made you terrified but now... makes you feel safe and loved. He would take care of you, both of you if it led to that. When the lust at last fades away, you take more notice of how sticky you are, "Jiminie" You mumble, "Can you help me shower?"

He picks you up in his arms, kissing your face as he walks into the bathroom. He turns on the shower, still holding you in his arms as he hugs you, “Babygirl, you’ve done so well today.”

You thrive at the praise Jimin gives you… When you're both clean, even though you'd much rather go to sleep again, you go to the almost forgotten bag with groceries you bought before. It's still daytime, maybe you'll make lunch with it instead of breakfast? You think to yourself, "Jiminie." You say, turning around to see him standing behind you with watchful eyes, "Oh, uhm, I bought strawberries. Thought I'd make pancakes, well if you'd like?" You smile timidly.

Jimin tilted his head to the side, eyes flickering between you and the grocery bags. A smile pulled on his lips, eyes squinting as he reached out to touch your cheek, very gently this time, “I’d love that. But no sharp tools.’’

You melt under Jimin's gentle touch, "I'll be careful, I promise" you say, a big smile adorning your face. Now determined to make the best pancakes ever, you get right into it. After a short while you hear Jimin leave the room.

Another few minutes pass by when suddenly you hear a serial of hard knocks on the front door, and somebody screaming your name. You recognize that voice as your best friend Jungkook. Immediately you go to the front door, unlock and open it, "Y/N!" Jungkook says, relief evident in his voice, "Oh my god, why haven't you called me?! You've been gone for months! Just leaving without a trace!"

The relief slowly turned into anger, "I almost thought you'd died." Jungkook continues, "And then Yoongi said he saw you here in the supermarket, so I asked around until I found this house. Y/N, why did you just leave?.. You know what, It doesn't matter, come with me now!"

You're struggling to find your words, when you feel a strong presence behind you...

‘‘Who’s this?” Jimin’s strong frame was standing behind you, his hands landing on your hips to pull you closer to him. His eyes were fixed on Jungkook, he knew exactly who it was, and he remembers he really, really isn’t fond of him.

Jungkook stares at Jimin’s hand on your hip, then looks up and meets Jimin’s eyes, "A better question is, who are you?!" Jungkook says, then looks to you for guidance.

"U-uhm." You stutter. "K-kookie, this, ehm, is m-my boyfriend, Jimin. Haven't you met, uh, before?"

Jungkook looks skeptically at Jimin, "Oh, now I remember. You're that jerk that followed Y/N around. Boyfriend, you say? Uh-huh, don't think so." Jungkook says before taking a hard grip on your forearm, preparing to drag you away from Jimin.

Jimin’s hand flies faster than you could blink to wrap around Jungkook’s wrist, his nostrils flaring and eyes glaring at where Jungkook’s hand is touching what is his. How dare he touch his babygirl? ‘‘She wants to be here. Let go.”

Jimin's strong, but so is Jungkook. With a massive force and speed Jungkook rips his wrist from the elders grip, takes a hold of you with his other hand and drags you so hard that you stumble right into his chest, "Wants to be here my ass! You're the reason Y/N disappeared! I knew she wouldn't just leave me!" Jungkook screams, with you now tightly secured against his front.

Jimin was getting angrier, and you knew that he had a hard time controlling himself if he got angry enough, ‘“Leaving YOU?! She was never yours to begin with!” Jimin laughs mockingly, eyes blown wide with craze. He takes a step closer, hand reaching out for you, “Tell him babygirl, you want to be here with me, don’t you?”

"Ha! So you mean to tell me that she suddenly left everything, for you, whom she just the days before told me she was scared of!? You're lying, and Y/N is coming with me. And don't be delusional, she was always mine.", Jungkook growls. You try to wiggle your way out of Jungkook’s grip, when you do you catch a glimpse of Jimin’s eyes. The craze swirling in them makes you scared, not so much of him, just for what he could do if he was further provoked. You feel the strong need to comfort him, assure him, of course you're his and with him is where you should be…right?

Jimin took another step forward, his hand reaching out for you, eyes fixated in a tunnel vision for you, but keeping his attention on Jungkook, “She loves me. She loves ME.” His lips were trembling, the thought of losing you and seeing Jungkook touch you was driving him towards madness, “Don’t touch my babygirl...” his voice was calm, but his eyes were growing frantic, about to snap at any second.

You tried to get out of Jungkook’s hold, you really did, but you were still so weak, and his grip was too strong, "Jungkook, please let me go." You beg, knowing Jimin was reaching his limit, "Jungkook, I want to be here! And I do love him.. I love Jimin!"

Jimin felt himself calm down slightly at your words, finally getting close enough to grab your arm to pull you towards himself. Jungkook hesitantly let you slip from his grasp. Jimin hugged you, breathing in your scent as he whispered in your ear, “Please tell him to leave, or I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Your heart is beating fast as you obey, "Jungkook, thank you for looking out for me, but really I'm fine. You can go home now, it's okay!"

Jungkook doesn't trust you, it's clear in his eyes. He looks at Jimin and says, "You're going to pay for what you've done to her."

You feel Jimin start to shake with anger, his body vibrating against yours… Suddenly, you noticed the sound of sirens coming closer and closer...

Jimin freezes at the sound of sirens, his heart pounding, and his grip around you tightening. This couldn’t be happening! “You!” Jimin snarled at Jungkook, “You got the police involved?! Huh?” He laughed as if this was funny, but he was shaking in anger, eyes frantic, “Do you really think they will believe you? She’s gonna tell them the truth! That she loves me!” He looks down at you with quivering eyes, “Right babygirl?”

Your eyes are big with shock, the police are coming?

"I-I love you Jimin." you say but the confusion you feel makes it sound hesitant.

"I saw the bruise on her neck." Jungkook says, ignoring your words, and you automatically move your hand to your neck where the bite mark from the earlier punishment is evident.

"And I'm sure they will find even more marks on her body.. It's okay Y/N, He's not going to hurt you anymore." Jungkook says once again reaching for you, the sirens sounding just outside now.

Jimin flinched at the uncertain tone of your voice, his hands cupping your face, “You do love me. You can’t let them take me…” his voice grew desperate, his anger fuming up again, “Fuck!” He let go of your face to hold you in his arms, moving so that he was shielding you from Jungkook, “Don’t fucking take her away from me again.”, He was saying this out in the air, towards nobody. His body was clinging on to yours, refusing to let go.

You feel as if you're watching the events that happen from a different perspective, not really comprehending what's going on. Jimin’s arms felt like he was going to crush you, that’s how strong his hold was.

Then suddenly, someone tries to drag you away, but Jimin doesn't let go, more policemen come -together trying to separate you and Jimin. After a struggling push and pull, they eventually succeed. You hear Jungkook calling your name from somewhere, but more clearly than anything you hear a furious scream erupting from Jimin’s throat as they take him away from you.

Jimin fights back, the policemen struggling to keep him down, needing three to four men to keep him in control as they pull him towards the police car, cuffing his hands behind his back, “Baby! Say something! Fuck!” His eyes flicker over to Jungkook, crazed as he laughs, “You are gonna regret this! She’s never gonna love you like she loves me! And she will crawl straight back to me as soon as she gets the chance!” Jimin cooes, smiling as he gets shoved into the car. His eyes focus back on you, mouthing ‘I love you’ before the car takes him away. This was the last time you saw Jimin for a long while.

~~~

"Shouldn't you at least eat something?” Jungkook asks, not really expecting an answer. Weeks have passed since they took Jimin away, and you still don't know how to comprehend what had happened. You just feel... empty. Jungkook made you stay at his place, scared of what you'd do if left alone. You go to therapy, ‘stockholm syndrome’, the doctors explained. But that's not what you're thinking about now. In your hands you hold a pregnancy test, showing two lines, "I'm pregnant with Jimin's child." You say out loud.

Jimin was staring out the window, he’s been in prison for weeks now. They forced him to be evaluated, endless therapist sessions and anger management. If he behaved well, he would be released within a few months. Jimin knew this, he was an excellent actor, and a charming face. He played along, becoming the model student of good behavior as he counted down the days before he could finally come back to you. He’s been working out often to keep his mood swings in check, his one of few outlets for his energy. He sighs, combing his fingers through his hair before being called for his next anger management session.

Just a little bit longer.

You're on your way home from the latest therapy session. The doctor says that you've made progress. Told you, and made you repeat to yourself, that what Jimin did to you was wrong. He didn't love you; it was just an unhealthy obsession. You've said it so many times now that you almost believe it. As the months have passed, your baby bump has grown to be more and more apparent. You still live with Jungkook. A few weeks ago he proposed to you, promising to be a good father to your child. You said yes, to make him happy, and a ring now adorned your finger. You feel raindrops starting to fall, hurrying home.

Failing to notice the shadow that followed you.

Jimin was finally released yesterday, and ever since he got out his main focus was to find you.

And he did. Easily. It was a piece of cake for him.

It was a rainy night when he decided to stalk you throughout the evening. You looked healthier. Fuller. You were gorgeous. His babygirl was beautiful. The rain was starting to pour down, he pulled the hood over his head as he slowly followed you to your new home that he recognized as Jungkook’s. His temper was already running low. But he wasn’t surprised.

The rain had started to pour, so you were dripping when you came in through the front door, "Y/N?" Jungkook shouted from the living room. "Yes, I'm home." You took off your wet coat and shoes, when you heard a gentle knock on the front door. Without hesitation you opened it, and the face that met yours almost made you faint right on the spot...

“Babygirl...” Jimin smiled when you opened the door, the familiar pet name rolling off his lips as he took a step inside, inviting himself. His hair had grown longer, curly locks framing his angelic face, his body firmer from working out. His gaze quickly fell down to your baby bump, his eyes squinting and eyebrows furrowing. He didn’t say anything, as if expecting you to explain yourself.

You can't believe your eyes. The pet name makes you shiver, your legs feel weak and you can barely hold yourself up. How could he be here? The shock makes you stutter, "J-jimin?" Your hands, with the engagement ring visible, automatically go to protect your round belly. But it's as if the months of therapy sessions just disappeared, and your need to please Jimin washed over you as if he never left. You see the question in his eyes and make yourself answer, "I-I'm pregnant." You take a deep breath, "It's yours".

“Mine?” Jimin whispers, almost as if in disbelief. He takes a step forward to you, hand reaching out for your baby bump, “I’m going to be a father…” a smile curled on his lips, he took another step forward to put his hands on yours, lifting up the one with the engagement ring on it, examining it with a growing frown and confusion, “What’s this? You’re married?” Jimin touched you so casually, as if you still belonged to him, and you could see his gaze darkening while he’s waiting for you to respond.

Somewhere there's a voice inside you telling you to get the hell away from Jimin, but you also know that it wouldn't matter. He'd just hold harder onto you. You curse the ring on your finger, trying to come up with some sort of explanation. Your mouth is dry and you struggle to form words, "N-no, it was, uh just, you know... Jungkook, he..." But you don't get any further. You hear someone enter the hallway and see Jimin's pupils widen with anger at the person behind you.

“Jeon Jungkook.” Jimin spat out his words, still holding on to your hand as he lifted it up higher to show off the ring, “You married him? After being the very person who had me taken away from you?!” Jimin stared down at you, his grasp around your hand tightening.

You gasp, his grip on your hand hurting, "No, no no Jiminie." You beg. "I-I’m not married. I promise, I'm not!" Your eyes search for his, pleading for forgiveness.

"She may not be married to me yet, but she will be." Jungkook voices behind you, "Now let go of her. Want me to call the police again?"

Jimins attention is shifted from you to Jungkook, he lifts your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss on it, as if reassuring you that this will be over soon, before letting you go, “Do you really think prison will stop me?” Jimin starts to saunter closer to Jungkook, a smile growing on his face and his eyes widening in a craze, “I’m just gonna keep coming back. Why? Because my babygirl needs me.”

He stops, pressing chest to chest with Jungkook, gaze piercing through him, “She needs her baby daddy. And you couldn’t replace me even if you tried. It’s always gonna be me.”

You don't know what to do. How can you stop Jimin? ... or do you even want to? Jungkook’s hands turn into hard fists. He would not let this crazy man take you, "You really are delusional. I've taken care of her all this time you've been away! She's even said yes to marry me!" Jungkook smirks. "She's got a new daddy now."

Jimin's eye twitched, he hated when people called him delusional, he had full awareness, he knew exactly what he was doing and how he was feeling… it was just much stronger.

He cracked his knuckles as well, his smile faltering into a thin line and a cold expression, “You’re gonna regret having such a big mouth, Jeon.” Jimin didn’t give Jungkook even half a second before he hurled a fist towards his jaw with a loud crack. Jungkook was strong, but Jimin was faster.

The crack Jungkook’s jaw makes as Jimin punches him makes your blood turn into ice. You understand that if you don't do anything now, Jimin might actually kill him. You throw yourself in front of Jungkook, now lying on the floor, get down on your knees and dip your head against Jimin's shoes and the floor, "Please Jimin. Don't." Tears are falling from your eyes as you beg, "I'll go with you again, just let him be.. I'm yours, please!" You say as you continue to sob.

Jimin remains expressionless as he watches you cry by his feet, crouching down to grab your chin, guiding your face to look up at him with your glossy eyes, “Babygirl, I know you’re mine.” he pauses to wipe your tears with his thumb, “you know I don’t let anybody get away without punishment… he deserves it, doesn’t he? He took me away from you for such a long time.”

Jimins hand against your cheek feels oddly comforting, even in this situation. You search for the right words to say. Even though you've never loved Jungkook, you do care about him and you know that Jimin's punishment would break him beyond repair. "I-It was my fault, I'm sorry! If I just would've stayed inside this wouldn't have happened. Punish me, not him, oh please...!"

Jungkook grumbles behind you, "No Y/N, don't. I can take him."

Jimin ignored your pleas, simply giving you a soft, deep kiss that had you gasping. He’s missed your lips, and they tasted even better with an audience. He withdrew to stand back up, circling around you to stand above Jungkook, “You can take me, you say… you know what else you said?” Jimin now crouched down next to Jungkook, grabbing his throat and pulling him up in a sitting position, nails digging into his throat, “That I’m delusional. Hah! Who’s the delusional one here, truly?” He squeezes tighter, “You thought she loved you? Do you see how she crumbled right in front of my feet as soon as I called her babygirl? You’re nothing to her... I’m EVERYTHING.”

"It's just because she's scared. She doesn't know what she's saying." Jungkook dismisses, but not feeling as confident anymore. The blow Jimin gave him before and the tight grip Jimin now has around his throat, slowly making him lose consciousness.

Jimin lets go of his throat, not wanting him unconscious just yet. He pulls Jungkook by the collar of his shirt to stand up, and roughly drags him to a chair. He reached in his back pocket for a rope he’d brought with him and tied him tightly to it, giving his cheek a mocking pat, “I’ll show you just how much she loves me.” Jimin smiled wickedly, waving his hand to beckon you to come to him as he takes a few steps back.

“Babygirl.”

Your legs are too weak to stand, so when Jimin beckons you start to crawl to him on your knees. Suddenly a memory flash by from months before

‘And she will crawl straight back to me as soon as she gets the chance!’

Jimin was right, he's always right. On all four you crawl slowly, your heavy stomach weighing you down. You reach Jimin's feet, sit up on your knees, hands in your lap, head slowly lifting to meet his eyes. And then you wait.

“What a good girl,” Jimin cooed approvingly, his hand stroking the top of your head as he positions himself so that Jungkook has a clear view from the side, your obedient eyes staring up at him waiting for instructions. Jimin glances over at Jungkook with a wolfish grin, “Babygirl,” he says without even looking down at you, keeping his eyes in Jungkook, “Daddy wants his cock sucked.”

You feel Jungkook’s hard stare on you as you get on with Jimin's order. As always in the presence of Jimin your hands shake, but you do manage to open his buckle and zipper. He's already hard when you pull out his cock from his jeans, making a tentative squeeze.

"Y/N." Jungkook groans, weak from the rough treatment. "Don't do what he tells you. He's sick, just run when you can. I'll come for you and the baby."

“My baby.” Jimin growls as his eyes travel back down to you, “She’s always gonna belong to me, and so will our child.” His fingers grasp your hair, tugging you closer to his cock, “I’m her everything, isn’t that right?”

You spare Jungkook a careful glance, before you look up to Jimin and nod, "I-I belong only to you s-sir."

Jungkook’s hands turn into fists but he's too weak to do anything other than watch… Jimin’s hands hold you into place while you grab his cock with both hands, guiding the tip to your mouth, still looking Jimin straight in the eyes.

‘‘Beautiful, baby.” Jimin smiles, his expression filled with affection, he almost looked harmless, ‘‘Show him how well you can choke on my cock… I bet you never took Jungkook as well as you did me.’‘

He assumed the two of you had an intimate relationship during his absence, the thought of it infuriating, but it only fuels his fire to give Jungkook the nastiest show he’s ever gonna witness.

You give Jimin’s length one tentative lick, tasting the precum in your mouth. Jimin takes a harder grip on your head and pushes you closer, demonstrating once again that he doesn't want it gentle. So you spit on his cock, spreading it with your hands. Then you open your mouth as wide as you can, and take in as much of him as possible, ignoring that it's triggering your gag-reflex and makes tears stream down your face.

Jimin’s lips fell open with a breathy moan, his hips taking over slowly as he starts to fuck into your mouth, a hard grasp tugging at your hair, ‘’Look,’’ Jimin glares at Jungkook with a crazed smile, ‘’Look how fucking desperate she is to please me…fuuck, she feels so good…’’

Jungkook doesn't want to see this, but can't make himself look away. Your eyes glistening with tears, Jimin's cock disappearing down your throat, lewd slurping sounds leaving your mouth.

No, Jungkook thinks to himself, you never were this desperate for him.

Jimin finally saw Jungkook’s eyes focused on you, seeing the pain in his eyes, slowly breaking his spirit. It turned Jimin on even more, continuously fucking his cock down your throat for a few more thrusts before pulling your head back, your needy whines of protest fill the room at the loss of his length in your mouth, ‘’My love, get undressed for me….’’

The lingering taste of Jimin in your mouth makes your arousal grow. Your breath is quick. Tears and saliva cover your face, but you don't care. You gather your strength to stand up. Both Jimin and Jungkook follow your movements without blinking even once. You start off with your jumper and bra, then your jeans and underwear in one sweep, throwing them on the floor, embarrassment making your cheeks even more red. Hands once again going to your pregnant belly.

‘‘Gorgeous,” Jimin praises you as his hands reach to remove your hands from your belly, giving himself access to place his palms on your swollen stomach, ‘‘I made this.’‘

He smiled, crouching down to softly place loving kisses against your bump. A temporary moment of affection, something he knows to do, the manipulation of your emotions, making himself seem so harmless. And in a twisted way, he was. He’d never hurt you more than he had to, ‘‘I put this inside of you.”

You gasp when Jimin crouches down before you. Seeing Jimin being so lovingly makes tears form in your eyes, for a whole other reason than before. He does love you, you're sure of it, everyone else is wrong.

Jimin smirked, placing one last kiss against your swollen bump before standing up, circling behind you to turn you so that you’re facing Jungkook, still standing. His hands snake around you to palm your breasts, ‘’Even your tits have grown, babygirl,’’ He kisses at your neck, thumbs rubbing over your nipples. He wanted you so desperate, so wet and needy until your legs were unable to keep you up, traumatizing the man in front of them for life.

You can't bring yourself to care about Jungkook anymore. Jimin's right, it was Jungkook’s fault that you were taken away from him. Jungkook almost made your baby grow up without their father. What were you thinking, accepting his marriage proposal?

You place your head on Jimin's shoulder, moaning at the feeling of his arms around you, fingers touching every corner of your body, "Ahh, d-daddy, please, I've missed you for so, ugh, so long."

‘‘It’s been a while, my love,’‘ Jimin growls into your ear, giving you a long wet lick with a flattened tongue, a common move of his against your neck to claim you, keeping one hand playing with your breast as the other moves down to cup your cunt.

You move your neck to the side, giving Jimin even more room to do as he please, wanting to be marked by him even more. His expert fingers are just teasing you, not nearly enough to make you orgasm. You feel Jimin's erection touching your lower back. "P-please, don't tease me. I need to feel you a-again. Haven't you missed me? Aa-h, wasn't it lonely in prison without me?" You say, hoping to make him as desperate as you are. Hearing the almost forgotten Jungkook groan at your words.

“Oh, I missed your little pretty pussy so much babygirl, you have no idea how many times I fucked my hand, wishing it was this,” he slid a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out as he groaned at the wet noises made, “But don’t be greedy, love… I’m taking my time with you tonight... and...” Jimin stares at Jungkook, “He seems to rather enjoy the show by now.”

Jungkook couldn't help the groan that slipped out. It was just so sinfully arousing watching you, his childhood love, naked, sweaty and driven by lust, dirty sounds he never heard from you before now leaving your mouth. But it also made his heart break, because after all, he wasn't the one making you feel this way.

“Look him in the eye, babygirl…” Jimins fingers dig deeper, curling them to fuck his fingers against your sweet spot, “He fucking loves it, and he said I’m the one with issues… I wonder how badly he wants to fuck you right now.”

You struggle to open your eyes, the feeling of Jimin's fingers against your sweet spot making it hard for you to focus on anything other than the lust you feel. Afraid that your legs will give up, you hold on to Jimin’s arms to try and steady yourself, nails digging into his skin. That's when your eyes finally meet Jungkook’s, tied hands holding on to the chair so hard it might break. You moan loader.

Jimin keeps pumping his fingers into you until your pussy is dripping down his fingers and the floor, his own breath getting heavier with need as he ruts his cock against your ass, “Your pussy is gripping my fingers so tight babygirl, are you gonna cum? Hmm? Cum on my fingers and I promise I’ll fuck you so good with my cock.”

As if your body is as in tune with Jimin's commands as your head are, that is all it takes for you to cum, gripping Jimin's fingers even tighter. Your nails make a mark on Jimin's arms as you scream in ecstasy, not caring about anyone hearing. You fall down as your knees fold themselves, lying sweaty and fucked out on the floor.

Jimin lets you drop to the floor with a thud, heavy breathing and moans vibrating in his throat as he examines the bloody scratches on his arms, watching it drip down his arm, “Ah, babygirl has claws…”

He dropped to his knees, forcefully positioning you on all fours while facing Jungkook as he puts you ass up against his crotch, aligning his cock with your soppy entrance, “Tell me how much you missed my fat cock, Y/N.”

Jimin's manhandling of your body and foul words makes something stir in you again, even though you are so incredibly exhausted. But of course, what he wants, you want to give him. Your throat is sore both from Jimin fucking it rough earlier and from all the screams you've made, and therefore your voice is hoarse when you whimper, "Pl-lease, oh sir, I will always behave for you, just let me feel your cock inside."

Jimin wastes no time, driving his hips forward to fill you up with his length, “I’ve missed this pussy so much,” he groans, his hands gripping at your waist, a familiar feeling that brings back memories to you from the very day he fucked you dumb in his kitchen before he was taken away, “When was the last time Jeon got to fuck my babygirl, huh? He looks awfully needy for you.”

You moan, feeling Jimin so deep inside you. Even though he prepared you with his fingers, you feel a slight sting when he enters. Seeing Jungkook turning his face away in shame you answer,

"O-hh, I-I didn't let him, no, he was n-never inside. Only you d-daddy, only you!"

You'd kissed Jungkook of course, touched each other intimately sometime. But you always ended it. Even though therapy made you say, and for some time think, otherwise, deep down you always knew that you were Jimin's.

“You didn’t even fuck her!” Jimin laughed mockingly, his hips roughly snapping against you, the skin of his pelvis smacking against your ass and your body bouncing with every thrust, “Hear that? The sweet sound of her pussy getting filled with my fat cock, she’s squeezing me so hard.” He’s taunting deliberately, loving the suffering and confused arousal he’s putting Jungkook through. He loved putting on a show.

Even though Jungkook now looks away from the sight of you, there's no way for him to escape the sounds coming from you and Jimin. He curses himself for not being able to control his arousal. But how could he? He'd imagined you naked like this for so long, thinking you'd come to him one day when you were ready. Oh, how wrong he was.

"S-sir." You whimper. "I'm coming again, ohh my god please."

“Cum on my cock, my love, you’re doing so well,” Jimin praises you, savagely fucking you as he groans out his words, “’m gonna c-cum, gonna fill your pretty little pussy up... fuck, it’s been so long, I missed you so much.”

He no longer cared about Jungkook’s presence, focusing on the way your cunt squeezed around him like a vice grip, sweat dripping down his neck, “I can’t wait to make you pregnant again when you’ve given birth to our child, Y/N”

"Aaah, y-yes sir, p-please!" You moan. Your arms can't hold you up any longer, so you fall face down on the floor. Jimin keeps holding your ass up, pumping you so hard you almost feel as if you're going to break. And oh how you love it. For the second time tonight you feel ecstasy flow through your body, clamping down on Jimin's cock so hard it's almost hard for him to move, "Cum with me d-daddy, ah give it to me, please!" You beg.

Jimin has a bruising grip on your hips, his own mercilessly fucking into you, causing your entire body to jolt forward with every thrust, “Your pussy is squeezing me so tight,” he breathes out until he can no longer speak, a long drawn out moan echoing in the room as he cums, still moving his hips to ensure that you’ve taken every single drop of his cum.

There's a moment's feel of completeness as you sense Jimin coloring your insides white. Finally, you're back together again, "Mmh, never leave me again..." You mumble quietly. As your heartbeat begins to slow and it gets easier to breath, you look up, meeting Jungkook’s eyes once again. You see a tear in the corner of his eyes, and now when you're not clouded by lust you can't help the feel of shame that spreads through your body. Did he really deserve this?

“I’ll never leave, babygirl. Never.” Jimin cooes, slipping his cock out of you and pulling his pants back up again. He sits down on the floor, grabbing you to pull you close into his arms in an embrace, still naked and a mess. His hands gently smooth over your swollen stomach, his voice now smooth like honey, “I love you.” At this moment, it was unclear whether he was talking to you or the baby.

You must break your eye contact with Jungkook as Jimin embraces you, your face against his chest. When Jimin puts his hand on your baby pump, you put yours there too. It could have been a beautiful family picture, if you didn't consider the fact that you were a fucked-out mess, Jimin newly released from prison and then Jungkook bound up on the side, "Jiminie, w-what will we do now? What if the police come again?" You whisper and throw a nervous glance at Jungkook, "And what about Jungkook?"

Jimin grasped your chin and guided your lips to his in a soft kiss, “Trust me, babygirl. I’ll take care of everything.”

He glanced over at Jungkook, he won’t be saying a thing to the cops, because he won’t be around to.. No one was gonna ruin what he had with you.

You grasp your thrown away jumper and underwear, and put them on, not caring about them getting soiled. The cold stare Jimin gives Jungkook makes you worried, "Jimin." You say slowly, "What exactly are you planning to do?"

Even though deep down you probably already know the answer.

Jimin doesn’t look at you when he speaks, “Don’t worry about that, my love.” He takes slow steps towards Jungkook before crouching down to eye level with him, “He won’t bother us again. Now go ahead and draw us a bath meanwhile, hm?”

Your heartbeat quickens, and you hesitate. If you leave now, you're leaving Jungkook to his destiny, you know that. You look down on your baby bump. But then again, you need Jimin to be with you and your child. Your baby needs their father. And of course Jimin knows what's best, you conclude, "Y-yes, of course." You say as you lower your gaze, turn around and start to go to the bathroom, Jungkook’s hoarse voice calling out for you fading.

Jimin glanced over his shoulder until you were out of sight before staring down at Jungkook, untying him from the chair. Jungkook didn’t dare to move, his body weak and tired, and fear growing within him. Jimin pushes him off the chair so that he falls to the floor with a loud thud that could be heard all the way upstairs, “You will never come between us again.” Jimin mused to himself out loud as he straddled Jungkook’s chest, hands gently wrapping around his throat.

You try to ignore the sounds coming from downstairs by turning on the water to the bathtub, "It's okay." You mumble, stroking your stomach, "Your father will come soon, and he will always be with us from now on. We will be fine." But you can't stop a few teardrops escaping, falling down your cheeks.

Jimin squeezes Jungkook’s throat hard, “It’ll be over soon.” He whispered, gritting his teeth when Jungkook was clawing at his hands in the struggle for air, gasping and kicking loudly against the floor.

Jimin keeps his eyes focused on Jungkook’s, watching intently until the body below him slowly ceases to struggle, until the room is completely dead silent.

Jimin no longer had anything or anyone to stop him from having you. He got rid of the body eventually, before joining you upstairs for a bath, giving you a soft kiss on your head.

“Let me wash your hair, my love.”

~~~

A few years later…

The morning sun is shining bright through the windows of the living room, tiny dust floating in the air. It's quiet, the way it only is this early in the morning when it's just you awake,

"Mommy?" A small child’s voice behind you.

"Oh, hello my darling!" You say as you turn around. You take your son in your arms and lift him up, placing him on your hip. You shouldn't really be holding him, already having back problems from carrying your second child in your belly. Jimin wouldn't be happy if he saw, but you just can't help yourself, "You already awake Taemin? Should we go wake up daddy too?"

Your son nods excitedly, his smile a copy of his father's. You go to yours and Jimin's shared bedroom, the room he once prepared just for you, and place Taemin on the bed where Jimin lies.

"Daddy. Wake up!" Your son says, shaking his father. With sleep in his eyes, Jimin blinks, watching his son and then you. Love adorning his eyes. You may have had a shaky start, but you don't regret anything. You are exactly where you should, and always will, be. Right by Jimin's side.

Jimin stretched, a wide smile beaming on his entire face as he lifted up his son, carrying him in the air before hugging him tightly, eyes quickly traveling to you, “Good morning, babygirl.. Come here.” His eyes squinted as he smiled, feeling so happy that he finally had the life he wanted.

He had you, the love of his life, and a family that loved him more than anything.

He was needed, loved and forever swore to protect you with any means he deemed necessary.

#Fic: Unsullied #Yandere Jimin #Yandere BTS #Jimin x reader #Jimin x you #Jimin x y/n #Jimin smut #Dom Jimin #BTS smut

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daydream-believin · 4 years ago

Text

styrofoam cup give me strength

summary: you’ve not had a valentine’s date since way back when it was invented in the 14th century. you’re still bitter. and douxie asking you to come over to help him with his date is not making it better

warnings: swearing, alcohol

word count: idk i’m on mobile it’s not too long i don’t think

a/n: i wrote this while groggy. lol i just wanted something out this week. 1/3 valentines fics done. bone apple teeth yall

- it’s feb 14, valentine’s day, and you are once again spending it alone

- you thought for sure moving to a new town would help you better your chances at a successful love life

- but alas you have been in arcadia oaks for two years now and you are still without a valentines date

- you cursed this wretched holiday, always mocking you in your singleness

- it was stupid, and commercial, and made up anyway

- that didn’t stop you from looking spiffy tho

- look, the stupid lovey dovey couples that come in the restaurant tip way better when you’re dressed on theme

- it was just smart okay,,

- ngl you kinda felt like spongebob when pearl took over the krusty krab

- but that’s okay :D

- and all those cheeseball couples you served were just oh so cute, didn’t make you want to cry at all

- or at least go lie in a ditch, contemplating your life choices

- it’s okayyy :D :D

- stars, as soon as your shift is over you’re hitting up the bar across the way from your place

- time to drown out them sorrows am i right??

- actually, now that you think about it, your friend douxie asked you if you could make a quick swing by his place before you began drinking yourself into oblivion

- fuck, how did you forget that

- ah, well, you didn’t know what he wanted, but you were sure it wouldn’t take long

- you never asked, cause the answer might have hurt, but you were sure he had someone to hold tonight, a lucky, lucky valentines date. probably that pink haired chick he hangs with, or maybe that guy in his band? either way, he wouldn’t have much time for you

- he probably just wants you to run an errand for him or help him set something up

- and that was okay too :D

- life was dandy

- your shift ended, and you know that you promised douxie you’d be over asap, but tbh you were way too sober to go help your crush set up his romantic gestures meant for someone else. before leaving work, you poured some wine into a to-go cup with a bendy straw for your trip

- don’t judge

- you knocked on douxie’s door, before just walking right in without waiting for an answer

- look he gave you a key did he expect you not to use it

- anyhoo, you were right

- this place was all ready to go for a romantic evening

- candlelight, fancy tablecloth and place settings, red roses in the vase, soft music playing, rose petals on the ground? leading form the door?

- you furrowed your brows, and then rolled your eyes. yeesh. he was going all out apparently. you wouldn’t put it past him to be wearing a suit or something. wait, does douxie even own a suit? you went to go throw away the empty to-go cup, expecting doux to be in the kitchen, but he wasn’t there

- where was he

- you called out “DOUX! IM HERE!”

- you heard a shuffle from one of the other rooms, and a door swing open

- “wait, where are you, love?”

- “kitchen!”

- douxie appeared behind you. hmm, he wasn’t in a suit, but he was wearing a tie. how strange. a black tie on a slightly different shade of black shirt with some slightly different black slacks and, you guessed it, yet another shade of black shoes

- walk walk fashion baby

- “aww, you didn’t follow the petal path?”

- the confusion spread across your face “...no?”

- “okay,” he pressed his hands together, “could you go back outside and pretend to come in for the first time, and actually follow the petals?”

- “... come again, camelot?”

- “ah, you know what, fine.” he scooped you up, carrying you to the table

- “doux what the fuck,,”

- he put your feet back on the ground in front of the elegantly decorated table and pulled out the chair with a flourish, inviting you to sit

- you blinked. what. wh- why? wasn’t this set up for his date? why was he motioning for you to join hi-? ohhh. ohhh

- OH

- FUCK

- you quickly pulled your escaping soul back into your body and sat down in that chair. mr casperan, eligible bachelor of the evening pushed your chair and and took his own seat across from you, leaning with his head in one of his hands, like a cool cat

- you were.. still in shock to say the least

- you think douxie just didn’t like the quietness cause the next thing that came out of his oh so suave mouth was-

- “so, you come here often?” accompanied by eyebrow waggling

- “... to your house?” you cracked a smile, “yeah, yeah i guess i do.”

- douxie laughed, “sorry, i was just trying to lighten up the mood a little,” he poured you a real glass of wine that was not a bendy straw to-go cup, “you’ve been so down lately, i thought you could use some cheering up.”

- “that’s sweet, douxie. i love you.”

- fuuuuuccccckkkkk

- oh my stars, i mean you two say ‘i love you’ all the time, but, but, this was a date right, it means something else now, you can’t just say that

- wait, or was this a date? what he just said kinda made it sound like this was a one time platonic cheer-up-my-friend date and not a date-date

- okay okay uhhh

- “so like, what’d you want me to help you with?” douxie blinked.

- “y/n?”

- “ i mean this is nice and all but we should probably get a move on before your s/o arrives, don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

- “y/n-“

- you made a motion like you were about to stand. douxie quickly grabbed your hand before that could happen, pulling you back into your seat. “Y/N,” that got your attention, “I- this is for you, you’re my date, i don’t have a s/o... i-“ douxie looked the floor to gather some courage. there was a scratch mark in the cheap wood where archie’s dragon claws had skidded accidentally. he’d have to fix that. after he fixed this. “i, was hoping,,” douxie rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “that after tonight,, you, would be my significant other?”

- he said that last part so nervously, and posed like a question. a question you had to answer. damn

- “i- yeeEs”

- “oh, okay then, y- yes.” douxie took rather long sip from his wineglass. he set it back down with a start “it’s settled then.”

- “settled?”

- “settled”

- “- yeah”

- douxie stood up, his chair making a loud sound scraping against the hardwood. “OKAY,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s start dinner, shall we?”

- “we shall.” you raised your glass to show excitement. mordrax’s bloody miracles this was awkward. and yet somehow the best thing that could have happened. not the worst case scenario but the best case one. you could be crying and lying on the cold dirt outside a bar right now so

- if awkward is coming with not being heartbroken, being on a valentines date for the first time since the stupid fucking holiday was invented seven centuries ago, fuck you st valentine, and your crush actually reciprocating you feelings and-

- wait hold the fuck up

- douxie reciprocated. he actually likes you. he invited you to this date. he asked you to be his s/o. what the fuck

- douxie came back from the kitchen, plates in his hands. as he set yours in front of you, you just couldn’t help but asking a burning question,

- “how, how long,”

- douxie furrowed his brows, “how long what? the dinner didn’t take lo-“

- “how long have you, i dunno, ah, liked me?”

- douxie looked sheepish, pointing his fingers together, “oh, i don’t know, maybe,, since we met?”

- you let out a defeated sigh. “by merlin, me too, we’re so fucking stupid-“ you wheezed. you couldn’t even finish the thought from how hard you were laughing

- and let’s be real, if you weren’t laughing right now you would be crying

- douxie was laughing too, for the same reason

- and now you two were sitting at this table, laughing like madmen

- it was gonna be a long night

- but, you know what? that was okay

- maybe you’d get a little kiss or two at the nights end

- spoiler: you did

#valentines💘#douxie x reader #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie casperan imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #tales of arcadia imagine #my writing

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impaladolan · 4 years ago

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What if y/n tried to sneak out again and ends up opening a door and it’s literally a conference room and grays ins sitting head of the table and it’s filled w mafia men lmaooo and she’s just like oh sorry was looking for the bathroom which is an obvious lie cos girl has one in her room and she runs away and one of them catch her and take back to grays I mean does he punish her in front of the men girl that’s up to you but even if he doesn’t I feel like it’s like a lowkey funny concept like poor girl she just tryna escape hahaha

Anonymous said

i think it would be fun if y/n just constantly winds up him now in hopes he will get sick of her antics and just tell her everything hehe like maybe one day she steals his rolex, smashes all the plates lmaoo idk now that i type that out i feel like he won’t care and just spank her ass every time (which i highly doubt she’s gonna complain about lol)

Capture - Grayson Dolan [7/-]

summary: y/n has always been a curious women, but when she stumbles upon something she’s not supposed to.. things become too much to handle...

warnings: swearing & humiliation/degradation..

a/n: do y’all want to do tags @?? and also, thank you sweet anons for the prompts! love you all 💕

The events to which had pertained early this morning continuously played on a loop in your head. Rerun after rerun, and you never ran out of film. It really made you question your decision-making skills, or rather any of the skills and manners you have acquired in your short time of living. You couldn't help the "imbalance of homeostasis" moreover your impulsive, fluctuant feelings that would come over you like a rushing water at times. It really made everything a bit more difficult to understand. In shorter terms;

What the hell even happened?

You couldn't deny or even feel guilty for the wrongdoings of this morning, but nor could you exactly excuse them. Yes, it was a heat of the moment type of thing and you really should have expected him to come barging in like that, but it still had taken you off guard. Although, when you think back to what happened, you don't regret it.

You miss it.

You miss the way it felt, to be sat atop of him and needing for his scared touch. He was like a drug. An addictive, life sucking drug that wouldn't wash away from your mind. He was all you could think about.

He is all you can think about.

The wanting demand to know his name, the request to see his godawful handsome face, the aching of his touch. Everything about him was mysterious and daunting. He drew you in, like a magnet against steel. The burning desire you have for him doesn't make sense.

How could you be in love with someone you barely know? Someone who had taken you away from everything you've ever known. A man that knows the ins and outs of you, yet you couldn't even recognize his name?

It feels like a game. A stupid, twisted fucking game that you're bound to lose to.

Sighing to your intrusive thoughts, you blow a wavering piece of hair from your face. You were stuffed under the lengthy duvet and your eyes were directed at the spinning ceiling fan above. The industrial, artificial wind-making machine upwards reminded you of a similar one placed in your room at home. Of course, this one didn't have a squeak but it still made the pit of your stomach drop in an agony-filled remembrance of home. It feels like forever ago when you used to run every morning. The feel of the harsh wind against your cheeks and the subtle pumping of your heart was washed away with the same old gray walls that you were enclosed by every single waking moment.

The sudden thought of just that sparked energy within you.

You were pretty exhausted from prior events and you thought you’d be able to get a nap or two in. But your overthinking and legitimate thoughts clouded your head and you just couldn’t find a way to sleep properly. Although now, you were ready to explore.

Well, explore the kitchen.

The mere thought of a tall glass of iced water sounds satisfactory. Especially for your often dry throat. So, you hassled out of the flooding white covers and marched straight to the door, pulling down the only thing that covers you; a large white t-shirt— presumably his. The urge to soothe the parchedness that swirled within you only strengthened as you trekked past the door and into the ominous hallway. You werent for sure if he was home or not, but at this point it really didn't matter. You were thirsty and you were gonna do something about it, one way or another.

You retraced your steps from only a few days beforehand, when you had tried to escape, which had ended in complete failure. Thinking back to it, it surprises you that he actually knew you were in the walk-in pantry the entire time.

It seems like he knows just about everything.

Like you remembered, the hall opened up into a large, modern looking kitchen that could possibly sustain an expensive restaurant if it really had to. Before you could pause in absolute awe by just gaping at it, you get straight to work in finding a glass. You swung open most of the cabinet doors, opening to mainly spice racks and pots/pans that looked pricier than your own vehicle. You finally found something that could fit the desired contents and you went straight for the fridge. Just as quickly, you dip your cup in the little boxed formation and listen to the ice cubes soothingly fall. You didn't even worry about the deafening bangs of the cubes as they fell from the dispenser, or the crackling or the cool water slipping down and around their entirety.

God, it looks like heaven.

You bring the cylindrical shape up to your lips and let the freezing water slip down your tongue and throughout your body. It cured any and everything that seemed to be wrong, at least for the moment. You dont stop your drinking until the water is fully ingested and the ice begins to burn the tip of your nose. You place the glass carefully on the counter and deeply inhale, shutting your eyes for a brief moment to think.

You’re tired of staying in that room all damn day, and you need a change of scenery. You know there’s got to be way more in this house than just the couple rooms you’ve ventured in, and what’s the worst that could happen?

Aww, he spanks your ass again?

Like that would solve anything anyway. He should know by now that it affects you differently. He seems to know everything else about you. It’s actually really frustrating. For him to know all the details and you’re left in the weird gray area that’s clueless and dumb. It makes you so aggravated and angered, and you wanted to oh so bad, put your foot down in some way.

So, that’s what you’ll do.

A devilish grin comes across your face as you leave the kitchen, waltzing into the dining area with scouring eyes. What could you possibly do to make the “almighty capturer” upset? The first thing to come across your head was unorganization.

He seems like a perfectionist, someone who likes everything put in their exact places and to not be tampered with. You share that similar quality, but you aren’t an extremist like him.

You first lay your eyes on the dining room table, the centerpiece along with the runner looking a little too nice. With a sense of urgency, you decide sabotage. Firstly, you grab the extravagant-looking art sculpture and set it on the floor. After, you crumple the cloth underneath it. With an odd smirk, you pull out all the chairs in not so orderly fashion.

Wow, Y/N, you really did some damage..

Taking a couple steps back to look at the petty mess you've made, a chuckle erupts from your mouth and you sigh yet again. You shrug the simplicity away from your head and continue your walking. You come about a spiraling staircase and instantly begin to climb it, eager to see the upper floor’s decor. Your hand slides against the railing as you become steps closer to your desired destination, another chic and modern looking domain before your eyes. Unlike the downstairs, this room held a lot more art work and a certain professionality you couldn't begin to explain, but you continued to move forward. You approach another hallway, except this one withheld a deadend, large double doors that open outward. It somehow gained your attention and you couldn't help but want a quick look inside. Nothing was really stopping you and there are no signs of him around, so why not?

You didn’t really need an answer, you just went ahead and did what was on your mind. Exerting the small amount of force needed to push down the handles, you pull the doors open wide and focus your eyes on the room’s interior.

Men, sat all along a table that led all the way up to him.

Your eyes widen in immediate shock and your jaw drops open. All of their heads turn in the direction of a barely dressed girl standing in the doorway, disrupting the importance of a meeting with their leaders.

You.

Papers were strung all over the long piece of oak and there was bustling before you rudely interrupted their transactions and communicating, but you were too frozen to react or runaway.

“What the fuck are you doing up here, Y/N?” He said your name with such a deep and dark mannerism, it made your pussy throb unexpectedly. “I- Uhm, I.. Bathroom?” Words wouldn’t come out straight, no matter how hard you tried. You felt the stares of a million, but you could only focus your gaze on him.

And he looks furious.

What could you do to escape all of this? Well, running actually. You take off just as you see him get up from his seat. You speed back down the hallway you first walked down and curved through the different paths you had taken prior. The faint “go fucking get her” that spilled from his lips had made it to your ears and a certain fear ignited within you.

You could hear the footsteps behind you, but you didn’t stop. You were almost down the steps, until that menacing touch of someone grabbing you right before freedom— immersed around you. You knew it wasn’t his arms wrapped around you, but you didn’t dare look back to see whose it actually was. You wanted to cry, struggling to stay in his grasp as he lifted you back up and into the meeting room from whence you came.

“Let her down, Marc.” His wondrous voice filled your ears and you’ve never felt so secure yet troubled in your entire lifetime. The large arms unraveled from around you and you were softly placed on the ground. You didn’t dare to look up, but instead focus on the ground beneath you.

“Get your ass over here, slut.” His dark voice filled the quiet room, and your heart plummeted at the sound of such a slur. Sadly, you could only listen to him, so you walk carefully around the table, making your way to his perch. You weren’t even fully near him until his arm reached out and clutched your wrist, forcefully pulling you towards him. He roughly laid you over his lap, in front of everyone, and pulled up the bottom of your shirt, allowing every eye to see you lower half nakedness.

And just like the early morning prospects, an echoing slap to your ass filled the room’s silence. “This is what fucking happens, Y/N. When you disobey me.” You could tell his jaw was clenched and his face was red with anger by the way he was talking. Tears began to form in your eyes, but not from the pain, but from the embarrassment.

How’re you supposed to face all the people in this room, after getting an ass whooping for the second time today?

“Guess you don’t know how to fuckin’ listen well, do you Y/N?” He kept saying your name like it was some kind of extravaganza, which humiliated you all the more. You didn’t want everyone to know who you are, laid across a grown man’s lap and getting seriously aroused amidst people.

Out of the blue, he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you back up to face him, a dark red spread across your cheeks. “Lucky I don’t make you suck my fuckin’ cock in front of all of ‘em. Then they’d know you aren’t such a bad little girl, wouldn’t they?” He whispers against your ear as he sets you on his knee, facing the direction of the stone cold men veering their eyes on everything but you— away from the awful scene.

You shake your head to his words, feeling his large hands linger under your shirt. “Don’t think so? Would that embarrass you, sweetheart? Cause I couldn’t give a less fuck about that right now.” His hands continue to travel upwards, wrapping around the both of your unclothed breasts, the thin shirt material not doing much justice.

“Please, no. I-I’ll do whatever you want, just please— not here.” With those words of plea, you cross your arms over his hands and train your eyes to the floor in humiliation.

“Get back to you room, and don’t leave it. You’re on thin fucking ice, princess.”

to be continued...

a/n: don’t ask me why, i really don’t know why he has such an affinity for spanking her 🤷‍♀️ and it’s also 1:00 am that I finally finished this.. procrastination at its finest..

#dolan twins #dt #dolan twins smut #grayson #ily #ethan dolan #ethan grant dolan #grant #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #capture #grayson dolan smut

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arthurflecksgirl · 4 years ago

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Hi sweety!🥰 could you please develope a prompt where x reader goes to Arthur's apartment for a coffee (they're only friends maybe?) and then she forgot her sweater (🥺) by him. so the next day he goes to her apartment to bring the sweater back to her. And idk if you want to add some cuddles or a cold weather and a warm tea🥺🥺🥺 thank you so much

Oh sweetheart, your request warmed my heart and it was so much fun to write it. You know I have a weakness for sweater stories when it comes to our sweet Artie.Thank you so much. I really really hope you like it.

Pressing that elevator button felt different, knowing that you wouldnt go into your own apartment but ringing the bell on Arthur`s door. You knew each other since you moved into this building a few months ago but it took you weeks to finally make the first move and talk to him.

Arthur was a very shy man with intense eyes and a beautiful smile, which was hiding so much pain. You could tell from the way he was making jokes that he was sad. He was the kind of person who wanted to make others happy because he couldnt find happiness himself. Observing his loneliness made you sad. It hurt you to see that a wonderful man like him was all alone. Every since his mother was commited to Arkham state hospital he lived a lonely life in his dark apartment. Sometimes you could hear him laugh through the walls. It was a different kind of laughter, almost like he was in pain. One day he started laughing out of the blue and he handed this card to you, which said something about a condition. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he was too shy to interact with people. You have never seen him with someone else. Being his only friend felt special. Thats what you were. Friends. At least you thought so. Arthur never showed any kind of interest in being more than that. He was always very friendly, awkwardly shy and incredibly sad. Even when he was funny. Especially ehen he was funny.

You walked down the halls with a racing heart. You fell hard for this beautiful, sad soul. Just the thought of meeting up with him for a coffee made your knees weak. If only he knew if you were in love with him. But how could you vere tell him without risking his freindship? Maybe he prefered to be alone. Arthur always seemed like he could be scared away easily and you didnt wanted to. Just sitting beside him on his couch, feeling his presence was a gift. You could never risk to lose that.

Meeting up for a coffee after work was something you used to do pretty often now. Sometimes he would take you to the donut shop, even though he never ate one, but this time he invited you to come over to his place. Which felt so much more intimate.

You took a deep breath as you rang the doorbell.

"Coming" Arturs soft voice sounded like he was already smiling.

He opened the door. His brown curls matched his worn out chestnut sweater. A cigarette was tugged between his thin lips. He looked tired but his natural beauty was almost hurtful.

"Hi Y/N." his smile exposed his crooked tooth, which reminded you of how many nights you yearned for him to kiss you.

"Hey Arthur. I`m sorry I´m a bit late. I had to work longer today. "

"Its fine. I mean...I won`t go anywhere. I`m....here..." for a brief moment there was an awkward silence between the two of you. Then he turned around "Sit down...I mean....." he ran his fingers through his hair, appearently nervous ".....make yourself at home. I`ll make some coffee."

He headed into the kitchen while you sat down on the couch and took off your sweater.It was cold outside.Gotham city wasnt very pleasent during wintertime. The cold easily managed to get to your bones.

It was the 3rd time you every sat here. The fabric was old and faded, yellow and blue pillows decorated the corners. Along with flowery and green sheets. Everything smelled like him. The scent of passion and romance. You always imagined Arthur to be a very romantic lover. The thought of that made you blush while he came back from the kitchen to hand you a hot cup of coffee.

"I`m sorry I only have these self made Murray Franklin show cups to offer you. Kinda embarassing." He took a sip of his own cup which looked exactly like yours , except for the handwritten letters looking a bit more shaky.

You turned the cup in yor hands "I think thats pretty sweet actually. Making your own cups of your fave tv show".

Arthurs eyes pierced you while he took another sip. The color of his eyes was everything.

"Yeah?"

"Sure!"

"You`re the only one who thinks so" he lit himself another cig and took a deep drag. His eyelids fluttered for a second. Details. details everywhere. Arthur was like a museum of details.

"My mother thought it was stupid. She said it reminds her of the fact that we dont even have enough money to buy the real cup."

You gave him a serious look "No, I really think its a creative thing to do. You are a creative guy."

His face lighted up "You think i´m crative? "

"Sure. You do write your own jokes, right?"

"Mhhh hmmmm, yeah"

"See? Very creative."

"Maybe I am" Arthurs left leg started bouncing and you caught yourself thinking how nice it would be to place your hand on his knee and make it stop by calming him down. You imagined how the fabric of his blue pants would feel under your fingertips. Or his naked skin...

Arthur sat close beside you, yet not close enough for his knee or arm to touch yours. You thought about how you could possibly touch him by accident. Feeling the fabcric of his clothes or his bare skin stroking yours was all you could think about.

He put the cup back on the table and looked at you in a way he never did before. His eyes focused you without blinking. Like the shyness within him was gone for a brief moment. You tried to mirror his stare, but it was impossible to look into his eyes without fighting the urge to grab his face and kiss him. So you focused on the curl that was dancing in his neck instead. Not a good idea as well. Looking at this vulnerable part of his body only made you yearn for more.

You caught yourself looking away, which made you hate yourself. How could you possibly turn your head away when he was finally looking at you like that?

"You`re a party clown right?"

Arthur finally blinked "Yeah."

"I`d love to see some of your acts some day"

"I also do stand up comedy. Maybe you`ll come to Pogos when I perform next week?"

"Ohh Arthur, I would love that" and all of te sudden your hand was resting on his thigh. Arthurs muscles twitched under your soft touch. Like he wasnt used to being touched at all.

His smile said more than a thousand words "Wow, thats great news. I would love to see you in the audience. I will try to give my best performance for you. You know what Y/N? I´m gonna write a joke especially for you. Would you like that?"

Your hand was still on his leg. Touching him was magical. Like your hand was always supposed to be there. You nodded. Unable to say a word.

He looked at the back of yor hand like he couldnt belive that someone was actually resting his hand on him. You could tell from his eyes how touch starved he was.

All of the sudden Arthur got up. Your hand falling off his leg felt wrong.

"So I think I better work on that jokes now." he mumbled while he headed to his desk.

Right now? You felt the disappointment rising in your heart. He wanted you to leave?

"They better be good if you`re gonna be a part of the audience!" he added.

"Okay Arthur. It was nice to have a coffee with you. Im sure your new jokes will turn out incredibly funny.""

He smiled his sweetest smile while he grabbed the pen, looking like he was already about to concentrate.

"You know, I wrote this joke last night but I havent figured out the punchline yet. Punshlines are important. And facial expessions. I feel like I always get them wrong. And I have to look into peoples eyes more often."

"Sounds like a great plan, Arthur. "

"Thank you Y/N. I`m trying. I really do."

"I know"

"I want my stand ups to be good enough for the big clubs." he pressed his journal to his chest.

"I`m sure some day you will be well known. Everyone will know the name Arthur Fleck and think of a grea comedian".

You noticed his eyes watering as he walked you to the door "Even kids?"

"Sure?"

"That would be sweet"

You wrapped his arms around him as you said our goodbyes "So, I`ll see you next week at Pogos?" he asked.

"Definitely!"

Your hug felt a little too tight for being just friends and you hoped he didnt noticed.

It felt a little too long too, but you couldnt help but trying to get a nose full of the smell of his soft curls.

Arthur looked after you before he closed the door behind him.

You walked down the hallway to get to your own apartment and immediately missed him.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself lying on your bed, realizing that you forgot your sweater on his couch. Should you gt over and get it? You decited not to. He porobably was working on his jokes right now and you didnt wanted to bother him. So instead of visiting him one more time you just disappeared under the blanket and dreamed of him for the rest of the night.

The next day felt like a fever dream. Fantasizing about Arthurs lips and hands for the whole night left you with a strange feeling in your chest. Was it wrong to think of him that way? You thought about your sweater and how it was lying in Arthurs apartment for the whole night. You wondered if he left it lying on the couch and if he was still sleeping on the couch now that Penny was at the hospital? You couldnt concentrate while working at all. Your beautiful neighbor filled your mind with so many questions and daydreams. Daydreaming about him became something that helped you to get through the day. Just thinking of him chuckeling made you feel warm and fuzzy inside, like nothing could harm you anymore.

This man was magic.

And you wanted him so bad.

Somehow the day passed by like every day does and you found yourself alone in the bathroom, looking at the mirror, wondering if you were even his type of girl. You had no idea in what kinda girls he was into.

And just as you started wondering someone knocked at your door. Was it possible...?

You nervously hurried up to open it.

It was him.

Arthur was standing in front of you, holding your sweater in his hands.

"Hi Y/N. I dont know if you noticed but... you forgot your sweater yesterday and I didnt wanted to bother you and...."

"Ohhh Arthur. Thats so sweet of you. Yeah I noticed. Thank you."

You could swear that he was about to blush.

"You wanna come in?"

Arthur nodded while he stumbled through your door.

"Make yourself comfy, I am right back" you smiled as he sat down in the living room.

You disappeared in the bathroom, pressing your face into your sweater to see if it smelled differently. It did. There was a hint of Arthurs cologne on it. His flowery shampoo and the smell of smoke. Your sweater smelled like him.

You buried your face deeper into the fabric and breathed in.

It was your piece of clothing but it felt like it was his. Breathing in the scent that was so him was the most intimate moment of your entire life. Was that what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms? To cuddle with him on the couch while watching his fave comedy shows on the screen? Was that what he smelled like under his clothes? His bare skin? Was that the scent that would surrowd you while making love to him?

Your thoughts went all over the place while you rubbed the fabric against your blushing cheeks.

"Y/N? Are you okay?"

Arthurs voice woke you from your daydreams "Oh, yeah sure. Just got to use the bathroom. I´ll be right back"

"Okay! "

A minute later you sat beside him on the couch, the sweater still in your hands.

Arthur stared at it. His hands lay on his lap while he played with his own fingers.

"I have to admit something" he said "It`s so embarrassing. I dont even know how to tell you...."

"You can tell me anything, Arthur"

"There is a stain on your sweater now. It was me. I`m so sorry. I ruined it. Its face paint. I still got it on my fingers after I cleaned my brushes. " he showed you the spots where he stained it.

Traces of him.

This somehow made you very emotional.

Its was his sweater now.

Through and through.

"Thats okay, Arthur. Dont worry. I dont mind."

"Really?" he seemed surprised.

"I dont mind at all !"

He shrug "Well there is another thing.... after I noticed you forgot your sweater on my couch... there was a reason I didnt came over to hand it to you last night. Its so embarrassing, oh my god..."

You giggled "Okay? Why didnt you?"

"I....put it on" Arthur buried his face in his hands "Sorry, dont hate me. Please. I put your sweater on and I slept in it." His legs started to bounce.

You coudlnt belive what you just heard. That was the cutest thing you could have imagined.

"Arthur,really? You slept in my sweater?"

He exposed his face.

"I know...I know....its...I`m sorry. Now you must think I`m a total freak or a stalker or something." He looked down on the floor, way too shy to look you in the eyes while he started to bite his nails.

"Actually I think thats pretty cute." you chuckled. The blood was rushing to your face. This man really got under your skin.

"What? Are...are you serious? You´re not mad at me? You dont think i´m a freak?"

"I could never think you`re a freak. I´m glad you told me. Now I`m going to tell you something much more embarrassing, okay? So you see that you are not the only one."

Arthur gave you an insecure look "Okay?"

"When I was at the bathroom before, I sniffed my sweater because I hoped it would smell like your apartment."

"I`m sorry if it smells like smoke now."

"Noooo not because of that! I wanted it to smell like... you!"

Arthurs eyes filled with love "You mean...."

You nodded as your eyes watered "I`m in love with you ever since I saw you for the first time. I just didnt knew how to tell you."

Arthur fell into your arms "Me too Y/N. Oh god.....me,too."

You pulled him closer. You never noticed how tiney he was in your arms. How fragile.

"Why havent you told me?" you asked him, while his face was buried in your neck.

"I didnt wanted to boter you. People often feel bothered by me. They think I`m weird. I was glad you even talked to me. Those short coffee breaks meant the world to me."

"Artie, this is just....I`m speechless."

He chuckled, now facing you "You just called me Artie".

"I know. Thats what I called you in my head all the time".

"I could get used to that" he smirked, which made his lip scar show even more intense.

"I cold call you Artie all night if you want to stay. " you whispered into his ear.

"I would love to. I mean its cold outside and some cuddles and warm tea would be nice..."

"Or some kisses" you added.

"Or some kisses....." Arthur turned his face to the left and put your face between his gentle hands.

His lips on yours felt even better than in your fantasy.

His taste filling your mouth was all you ever wanted.

And as you both fell into the pillows you buried your face into his curls and took a deep breath of Arthur Fleck.

@impulsiveclown @ben-solos-writing-avenger @jokerownsmysoul @missjoker96 @arthurskitten @lynnesm @nonnymousse @gwynplaine89 @damnrightobsessedwithim @sgtsavoytruffle @duhliriouss @sadjesterautumn @therealjokerking10 @flowerglitterwoman @thirstforfleck @spookyhome @iartsometimes @you-cant-cry-in-here @bustafatclownnut @jokerismyhubbie @jokerflecker @check-out-this-joker @darknessisafriend @nicoleverse @mdme-rosary @arthurhappyclown @neon-umbrella-for-stella @cherrymoon75 @call-me-harley-quinn @arthurjokersgirl

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imagine-lcorp · 5 years ago

Text

How Could I Have Known (One Shot)

CONTENT WARNING: Death/Dying

Request

Lena and fem! reader are together but reader sees Lena clearly rather enjoys the company of someone else (you can choose who) and the relationship between that someone and Lena is developing into something more romantic. R confronts Lena and Lena admits that she “no longer” loves R anymore so they break up. R suddenly has fallen off the face of planet and as time passes, Lena feels as if this piece of her missing. Fast forward in time, Lena looks for R but finds out R has died (somehow, idk)

A/N: Hello my dear little beans, today we got some angst in this little piece that took me more time than expected. It was also heavly inspired by this song: Keaton Henson- How Could I Have Known, so go check it, u gonna cry!!! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! As always, kudos to the dear anon that sent this one, I really hope yu like it and please leave kudos and share!! Love u guys!!! #helpawriter

Lena Luthor x Ex Fem!R//Word Count: 2,070

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If Lena Luthor had known, when she first met you, just how much she was going to love you, she would have done one of two things. One, she would have done even the impossible to have you by her side for the rest of her days. Or two, she would have ran in the opposite direction, saving you both the disillusion and the heartbreak.

But how was she to know she was going to fall in love with someone else? Or that she was going to miss you as much after you walked away from her life?

She could still remember the night it all happened at once. When she finally admitted she looked at her best friend in another light, when she realized she no longer loved you the way she used to, and when you decided this had gone for too long.

You had taken your glass of wine with yourself, hoping it would help you ease the tension you were feeling from a night full of chit-chat and polite introductions with people you had no interest in actually meeting. But it was one Charity Gala and you had to put on your best clothes and your best smile. Not that you didn't enjoy this kind of parties but having to meet that many people in such short time sometimes took more energy from you. So you walked around for a while looking for a place to relax for a moment.

That, however, was a lie.

You had found a spot in the small garden outside the building, finally finding some sort of break from all the music and dancing and lights and people inside. You were looking at the glass in your hand, observing the lines and the liquid inside of it, feeling the cold night breeze against your face. You were trying to focus on something that could keep you from thinking.

Because if you started to think too seriously, you would start thinking about Lena. Lena, who was still inside the party and around new friends. Lena, who didn't seem to worry anymore if you were there or not. Lena, who was enjoying herself in the company of someone else. Someone, who was trying her best not to keep up appearances and not cross any boundaries. Someone, who wanted to protect and care for Lena in all ways possible. Someone, who was able to make her as happy as you, or even more. Kara was that wonderful.

You took a sip of wine from your glass and then a deep breath. For so long you had wanted to deny what had been going on between you and Lena but tonight it seemed like you couldn't keep pretending anymore. Lena was in love with Kara, and she didn't even seem to realize how much that had changed everything. The way she looked at you, the way she spoke to you, the way she touched you.

You looked at the sky above, searching for a constellation you could identify easily, when you heard a door slide open and her voice calling from behind.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" She closed the door and walked towards you.

"It felt a little crowded over there." You kept looking at the sky, trying not to lose Orion.

"It is." She said. "I didn't think this much people were going to attend this year but Kara sent some mails from her CatCo directory and, well, here we are."

"Of course." You said, still not meeting her eyes. "Always saving the day."

"She has been very supportive." You could imagine the smile forming on her lips. "I don't know how the night would have ended without her help. She sent an invitation to every important connection she had at CatCo, and they are all here. Can you imagine how much attention the charity will receive after this? She's amazing."

You chuckled bitterly once she finished and finally took your eyes from the sky to focus on the glass in your hand. Only then Lena sensed how distant you were acting.

"You like Kara." You said before she could ask if something was wrong.

She frowned in confusion. "Well, yes. I do like her. She's my friend."

"No." You shook your head. "You like Kara." You said, putting more emphasis on that last sentence.

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know." You finally looked at her, sadness pooling in your eyes. "You didn't think I wouldn't notice?"

It took Lena a moment to realize what you were trying to say. The implication of your words was not something she had ever expected, but she was baffled she couldn't deny that simple statement.

"I know you, Lena. I see it. The smile that sets on your face every time you think about your next lunch date and game night, and every time she's in the room. How you talk with her and about her. The lingering looks and little touches."

"(Y/N), that's not-" She found herself at a loss of words. "She's just a friend."

"I was just a friend too, remember?" You took a deep breath trying to contain the lump in your throat and the drumming inside your chest. "I know the way you fall in love, Lena. You fell for me once."

The veil lifted from Lena's eyes and she found the ultimate betrayal in her own mind as it played every moment spent with Kara against every moment spent with you. Her own damn prodigious mind making the comparative, seizing and matching, with the results final and undeniable.

"That's nonsense." She said trying to dismiss her own thoughts but already feeling the weight of her heart in each word.

"Then tell me, Lena. Are you still in love with me?" Now, face to face, you pushed the question, knowing in that instant Lena had finally figured herself out.

"No." The word fell from her lips after a moment along with a single tear. "I don't think I am."

You closed your eyes and took another deep breath. You hadn't imagined how hard hearing those words would be.

"I'm sorry." She said drawing a shaky breath. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Don't...don't apologize." You shook your head and looked down.

You couldn't blame her no matter how much you put your mind to try and do it. You loved Lena and all you wanted for her was a life filled with love and happiness. But coming to understand that the person you loved was not in love with you anymore was hurting you. And it would have hurt you both so much more if you had let it be.

"You deserve someone that loves you as much and if you love her-" Your voice cracked for a moment.

"Well, there's nothing I can say against someone that makes you happy, can I?"

Lena watched as you took another deep breath, gathering all of your strength and will to do what you believed was right.

"And if I'm not that person anymore, then... what the hell am I doing here?" Your words faded in an almost whisper as you looked around with a confused frown.

"(Y/N)-"

"I hope she makes you happy, Lena." Your eyes found hers again. "I really do."

She could only watch as you turned around with your glass on hands and sad smile on your face and left.

Now, it had been months since she had last seen you and although Kara's presence in her life had made her as happy as you had once and helped Lena seal the cracks of her heartbreak, she missed you.

That night she had stayed at the gala while you went home and took all the things that were strictly yours with you. There were, however, so many others that were all yours and Lena's. The pictures on the walls, the little plants you kept around, the furniture and decorations, and the things you had chosen to fill your home. She could find everything but you at every corner.

Having you in her life for so long had made her believe you were indeed going to spend the rest of your lives together. And even when she didn't believe in everlasting love, she believed you were still an important part of her life. You had showed her what the world could be if she opened her eyes and her heart to the light around, that she could break the curse of her last name and that, before anything else, you reminded her she was Lena. A woman trying to make a name of her own.

Then, after not hearing from you for so long, she tried to contact you again. She hoped, maybe, even after the way things had ended between you two, you could still have a friendship. You were so important to her to just let you go, but you seemed to be unreachable.

She had tried calling you again, texting you, sending emails, and even tried using her very private social media apps to send you a message. It all had been useless as you never answered any. So Lena finally went after you.

"Lena?"

She watched as the door opened to a very surprised figure.

"Hello, (Y/F/N)." She said to your best friend, and it took them a moment to answer back.

"Hey, yeah, sorry." They cleared their throat and tried to speak through their astonishment. "H-how are you?"

"Good, thank you." Lena smiled.

"Great, great." They nodded, offering her a little smile.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I need a favor. Do you know by any chance where could I find (Y/N)?"

"You want to talk to (Y/N)?" She saw them frown.

"Yes. I know it's been a while, and I suppose you already know what happened between us but I wanted to talk with her. But she doesn't seem to want to talk with me." She explained.

It wasn't her intention to add insult to the injury by following your friends. She had imagined by this time all of them new about your break up and even some about the reason behind it. So she wanted to make this avoiding the awkwardness of the situation and finding you as soon as possible. She could deal with your friend's cold shoulder later.

"But she's-" They stopped mid-sentence and Lena believed not even Supergirl could change the expression of her face as quickly as they had done it. Lena saw a deep confused frown transform itself into two baffled raised eyebrows and a slight open mouth, to be replaced by a soft concerned frown. "You don't know, do you?"

"What is it?" She asked without fully understanding the meaning of the question but already feeling the undeniable and familiar painful tug in her heart.

"Lena." She could hear the tremble in their voice and Lena's heart finally crumbled once they said their next words. "(Y/N) is dead."

There was a second when Lena seemed frozen in time. The world had stopped and she along with it.

At least, it felt like that to her until her brain was able to process the words they had pronounced. Your name, so dear to her. The verb, which meant presence. The adjective, relative to death. The absence of life that Lena had witnessed so many times and a shadow that hung above her constantly. Something she couldn't link to you.

"No, that's-" Lena's throat closed up with a lump and felt herself fighting tears.

"I sent the info about her funeral to everyone I knew, and I thought you...I thought you couldn't make it or weren't ready to come yet." They sighed. "(Y/N) told me about your break up. She was sorry about how things had ended, and she had been worried she had made a mistake. She really loved you, you know?"

At those words, Lena finally crumbled.

Because if she had known that night you would turn around to never come back, she would have called after you. If the words hadn't got stuck in her mouth, she would have told you how sorry she was her heart had changed. She would have begged you to stay at least for a moment longer, to share one last glass of wine, one last dance, and one last kiss.

Because Lena had known once just how much you loved her.

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kitten-keith · 5 years ago

Text

Horrid Self Indulgence

Wrote this long thing and now it’s gone cause I posted it to the wrong account and copy paste didn’t work so /fuck me/ anyway.

The whole following fic is purely self indulgent garbage, thus the name (it’s even called this in my google docs because I HAD A PLAN for what I was doing and it was supposed to be insanity) though as usual things get derailed and Idk. I had wanted to get into the hijinks of this concept but lost steam after starting the second bit. But the first bit can stand alone. ish. I guess.

Idk. It’s all completely ridiculous though so idk have fun.

Klance, slightly intoxicated, sharing a bed, Keith is uncomfortable AF and Lance is trying to be chill about it. Weird head shit and accidental rituals. You’ll see. Seriously. Horrid self indulgence.

-----

It was a pleasant moment between comrades that went horribly, heinously, horrifically wrong.

And if that’s what bonding with Keith friggin Kogane gets him then absolutely not, never again.

It was such a simple stupid fuck up. How was he supposed to know?!

They were at a dinner, stumbling awkwardly through an alien planets customs, trying unsuccessfully to pretend they were okay with the garbs they’d been forced to wear and that the food didn’t make them nauseous when Lance had made the biggest mistake ever and looked at Keith.

See, because he was the leader his attire had to display this-this—nobility. And god, Keith was anything but noble. He was sitting to the right of the planet’s leader, Allura across from him, and he looked like they might as well have sat him at the kids table with how his brows furrowed and he looked at the ground like he was trying not to cry.

His face was red enough to match the silk scarf loosely clinging to his shoulders and his thumbs rubbed absently over his ungloved hands. He was bare aside from the scarf and a darker one wrapped around his waist for modesty that he’d had to fight for. Apparently this planet had no concept of an external penis or whatever and needed to be educated on human biology before they gave in to Keith’s demands.

The whole thing was about respect, leaving yourself bare to show you had nothing to hide, but to remind everyone of his station the locals had him decked out in jewels from head to toe. They were braided into his hair, dangling from thin chains across his chest, Lance was positive there was some sort of jeweled sandal decorating his tiny delicate toes too.

(And not because he paid attention to that sort of thing. Just. Ya know. Shiny shit.)

Allura was actually dressed about the same though being a woman with no external penises she was actually way nakeder than Keith. And, as she was a full on princess they’d given her a whole slew of silver that had strategically covered all necessary bits that Lance’s mother might have flinched at.

Not that Allura seemed to give a fuck in the slightest and even seemed to enjoy it as she spoke animatedly to the world leaders, the jewels on her body making small clinking noises with every movement.

Lance had spotted perfect (and he means perfect) dark nipples exactly 16 times since they’d all sat down to their meal and absolutely couldn’t take it anymore so that was when he’d turned his attention to Keith.

And somehow had been unable to turn away from him since.

The other Paladins were stripped some and given a few shiny baubles. Lance himself was wearing flowy pants slit up the sides over the dark boxers he’d thankfully been allowed to continue wearing. A couple gold plated necklaces and an arm band and he was good to go. Lance has no issue being topless and actually kinda liked the style. Hunk was a bit more uncomfortable, same pants, same boxer treatment (his were white with yellow suns on them, Lance clapped him on the back for unintentionally matching.)

Hunk had the same kind of jewelry too but try all he might he couldn’t drop his hands from where they were wrapped around his chest.

He said he was cold repeatedly but lance figured he was just self conscious and offered him plenty of wolf whistles back in their dressing rooms because “man hunk you wanna bench press me later cause those arms are making me weak~!”

But sadly it didn’t seem to work.

Pidge was an interesting sell. Same bottom situation in her signature green but she’d also managed to get away with a pair of socks that she was no longer wearing on her feet.

They were providing just a hint more cover for her chest after she’d wrapped Lance’s, Hunks’s, and her own scarf around herself like a makeshift halter top. The locals hadn’t liked it and Allura had tried to explain that female breasts were nothing to be ashamed of but Pidge’s size and thus assumed age had granted her the “let the child be” excuse.

And sure, Lance was a grown man who was all for equality and free the nipple and aaallll that jazz but if they had forced his pseudo baby sister to go topless he might have lost his absolute shit and gotten them all sent back to the castle.

Not that that would have been the worst thing at this point because then he wouldn’t be staring at Keith like this— to avoid staring at Allura! Of course— and then he wouldn’t have gotten elbowed in the side by the Pidgeling and gotten the funny look from Hunk and nah man okay.

Lance wasn’t ogling the leader of voltron.

He wasn’t.

He was just.

Uh.

Worried about him.

Yeah, that’s right. Worried.

Which was what lead him to follow Keith’s retreating form the second they were allowed to adjourn for the night.

It’s what compelled him to bump his shoulder and wave a hand in greeting.

And maybe that pout had something to do with Lance’s laughing, throwing his arm over his shoulders, and ushering him to his room for the night.

“Come on dude, I've got something for you, stashed from that one planet with the abomination? You know the one… Kell? Krell? It’s good okay, better than what they just tried to feed us. Take the edge off.”

Take the edge off.

Famous last words?

Keith groaned and wrapped his arms around himself tightly but nodded and willingly turned off course from his own room. Lance wondered if this was so easy because he’d been so beaten down by the day or because he actually found solace in Lance’s company.

He didn’t have the nerve to ask and instead simply sauntered into his room, leaving Keith to stand idly by the newly shut door.

“It tastes better than nunville but it’s a little stronger so you’re gonna wanna sip at it okay?”

Keith nodded but his eyes looked glassy, like he wasn’t actually listening.

Lance moved to his temporary rooms vanity setting and shuffled through his bottles of toiletries. When they’d decided to indulge the locals in their customs and stay a few nights basking in their hospitality Lance had been told to pack quickly but he hadn’t forgotten anything important. This included the little silver pouch that he’d somehow barely touched since keeping it with him all this time.

He opened the pull top with his teeth to take a small sip before offering it to Keith who was still standing right against the door as if he was afraid to move. Considering how loose the scarf around his waist looked, he might have been.

He did look… good though.

Remarkably so.

Amidst the finery and the sheer and silk fabrics, his hair in a loose braid over one shoulder and that almost permanent flush across his cheeks, he was beautiful and adorable and stunning all at once and it was doing ridiculous things to Lance’s chest. He almost regretted taking the sip that he did because he worried about what he might let slip aloud, looking at Keith like that, but as the alien substance travelled down his throat and warmed his body he kept his wits. He felt the buzzing under his skin but retained his sense. He was here to offer Keith a moment to relax. Nothing more.

He walked over to Keith and instead of handing him the pouch he resealed it and held it softly under one arm as he reached out with both hands for Keith’s waist.

Keith flinched so hard his back hit the door, “what are you doing?!”

Lance rolled his eyes, pushing closer and grabbing on to the scarf around his waist tugging and tightening it for him.

“Looked like you were having trouble.”

Keith’s flush was so hot Lance could practically feel it.

Poor thing.

“Right… thanks…” he stayed against the door but took the pouch when Lance offered it.

Lance turned to walk over to his bed and make himself comfortable and by the time he turned his attention back to Keith the boy was swallowing.

“You remembered what I said about that stuff being hard hitting… right?”

Keith shrugged.

Took another sip. (This one looked more like a sip at least. Maybe Lance wouldn’t have to carry him back to his room later.)

He sealed the stopper and looked around the room briefly before walking in the straightest line imaginable to sit on the foot of Lance’s bed, holding the pouch out to him again.

Lance considered it, wondering if it would help or hinder his case to not make a fool of himself with Keith looking like that and decided why not. Besides, he could pace himself, unlike some people.

When he finished taking his last sip, feeling the warmth and the contentment sitting in his stomach as he leaned back on his elbows on his bed, he hummed to himself and shut the top, putting it to the side.

Keith shuffled around so his back was to the bed post and he placed his hands over his lap uncomfortably.

“So uh. Was—was that it?”

“Chill Keith. You’ve been looking so tightly wound today I figured you could use a break.”

Keith visibly paled and moved to curl in on himself but thought better of it. His thumbs started to track back and forth over his fingers though. Bad sign.

“Relax!” Lance demanded, stretching the vowel sounds to make it more playful.

Keith neglected to heed this order and instead looked away.

“Look, I doubt it’ll cause any problems, everyone knows their customs made you uncomfortable. Here, if you want you can go ahead and get under the covers.” Lance reached behind him and pulled up the bed sheets. It would help his own situation too. Cover Keith and that pretty skin of his up. Put that beautiful body away because his own was starting to get ideas he didn’t need.

He remembered Allura looking just as beautiful if not more so and it helped for a second to feel better mentally but he was still fighting not to be turned on next to half naked (that was being generous) Keith.

“That might actually be… are you sure? I could just— leave. I could leave.”

Lance rolled his eyes.

“Would you chill if you left or would you stay up all night worrying about the kinds of impressions you’re leaving?”

Keith was silent. His thumb disappeared behind his pointer to dig his little blunt nail into his middle.

“Get in the bed. Let me tell you stories.”

Keith’s eyes lit up at that and for a moment he started forward to crawl across the bed toward where the sheets were up, but he stopped himself again.

Lance sighed.

“Feeling exposed?”

Keith nodded.

“You know we showered together back at the garrison right? I’ve seen you naked. Completely naked. And lathered.”

Of course, this was before Lance’s full sexual awakening and before Keith had filled out like he did with those abs and thighs for days but uh— that wasn’t a necessary addition to the conversation it just wasn’t.

Keith still flushed like a tomato and it made Lance’s little traitorous heart do a flip.

“Right right. I forget you didn’t even remember me from the garrison.” Lance offered sardonically, trying to shift the mood.

Keith bit his lip. Man, even that looked good. Lance wanted to bite that lip. He could just see it. Lip to lip with Keith Kogane groaning out. Lance’s hand on his shoulder pushing him back on the bed, the other reaching beneath him to get a nice big handful of that round perky ass—

Okay.

Okay maybe Keith shouldn’t get under the covers.

Maybe he should leave.

He should leave.

He should—

Keith started to mumble something when Lance turned away and shut his eyes.

“Alright you have ten seconds, go on princess.”

It was silent for a moment.

Lance squeezes his eyes shut tightly because this was the exact opposite of what he was supposed to be doing.

“10.”

But he was doing it.

“9”

There was the sound of Keith shuffling behind him, pulling up the sheets more and crawling into bed. He was getting comfortable by the time Lance reached 3 and Keith spoke up telling him he could stop.

Lance nodded and turned around so he could face Keith, continue conversations, see if he could find a relevant story in his brain about his family or something simple back home that would help Keith unwind.

Instead he was struck a bit dumb by Keith snuggled under his (always color coded) blue bed sheets, his inky black hair splayed out on the pillow. Lance had always thought Keith’s eyes were this remarkable shade of blue but surrounded by all the blue in his bed Lance realized he was wrong. They were clearly more of a violet, wide and staring at him under lashes that were too long and too elegant for a guy who made a living kicking furry alien chinchillas in the face.

And with that thought came the image of Keith kicking ass, those muscle toned legs under skin tight space suits…

Now basically bare and in his bed.

Naked.

Naked Keith in his bed.

Naked Keith in his bed staring at him expectantly like— like—

Right. Right he was waiting for a story.

Okay.

Lance flopped onto his side, too close to Keith but in an effort to remain comfortable and casual it had to be done, and went back to racking his mind for an idea that didn’t involve pressing his body as close to Keith’s as physically possible.

Something jingled as he went down and he remembered the abundance of jewels that had been decorating Keith’s body.

There were still a few left in his hair that he seemed to not care about but it looked like the little jeweled sandals were there, as were the ones that had decorated his arms.

It took him a second but Lance scooped them up and put them on the bedside table before getting comfortable again.

“Oh okay so, let me tell you about the time my big sister Veronica brought home the biggest stupidest “boyfriend” she could find…”

Lance could see Keith smile just beneath the blanket.

He reached out and started to pick the jewels out of Keith’s hair as he spoke, occasionally running his fingers through it. If Keith had a complaint he didn’t voice it. Besides, just because it was styled stupid didn’t make it any less soft.

By the time Lance got to the big reveal of the story, the part where Veronica had hired the guy to piss off their dad over an argument they’d had about Veronica’s openness to bringing a girlfriend home (maybe, in the future), Keith had completely knocked out.

And for some reason, Lance thought that was alright.

They could totally just. Sleep in the same bed. No problem.

With Keith wearing nothing but a silk scarf.

He thought this was a perfectly good idea as he showered and put on a fresh pair of boxers and crawled under his sheets to the sound of Keith’s light breathing.

He was a little dizzy, but forgot that the biggest after effect of inebriation was poor judgement, and easily curled up next to Keith.

Keith, who was just awake enough to take Lance’s hand.

Lance thought it was adorable.

Because Keith was adorable.

And Lance wanted to be touching his skin like this (sort of) anyway.

It worked for him.

He was sleepy too.

So sleepy he lapsed almost instantly into dreams.

Dreams of Allura dancing just out of his reach. Of her nonchalance at his flirting and efforts to be noticed by her. Making him feel useless. Undesirable. Unworthy.

He was so pathetic.

Keith’s voice was in his head.

Telling him how kind he was. How sweet he was.

“I couldn’t do any of this without you Lance.”

“I need you.”

“I hope you know that. I hope you know that—if you could see yourself how I see you…”

“Lance you’re so…”

“I want…”

“I wish…”

Keith was at his side. Mumbling those nothings into his ear in little breathy sighs.

It felt nice.

It was nice to hear.

Nice to feel Keith pressing in beside him.

“I wish you could see what I see in you… love yourself as much as I do...Lance, I…”

Well this was awfully self indulgent of him. Dreaming of a Keith who would say those kinds of things. As if the real Keith capital L Loved him.

Like Lance hadn’t spent years trying to get his attention the same way he had with Allura too.

As if he hadn’t gotten shot down with every attempt to—

“I liked you then too! I was just… afraid to let anyone in…”

“Liar, you didn’t even remember me.”

“That was the lie…”

“That was…?”

“You were so cute… always trying so hard… always going the extra effort to make people smile or laugh… I always thought you were…”

“You liked me back at the garrison? Like... one smoothie two straws, like-like…?”

Keith turned away, rolling onto his side. Face probably flushed a deep crimson again. Man he was so cute…!

“Like write your name in my notebook with a bunch of hearts, like-like… yeah.”

Extremely self indulgent dream.

But Lance was gonna take it.

He squeezed himself close to Keith’s body, wrapping an arm around his chest as Keith jumped.

“And now you…?”

“Now I…”

It was silent.

Lance tried to ignore how perfectly Keith’s ass cheeks felt pressed to his crotch.

He felt naked.

Naked Keith in his bed. Saying all these pretty hopeful things...What a perfect dream…

Lance gently bumped his hips. He couldn’t help it, and it was his dream after all right?

Keith was silent, but reached a hand back to slide down Lance’s waist, breathing loud.

Was that how Lance’s mind worked? Show me a love confession followed by an immediate bone.

Lance’s wet dreams were clearly things of substance.

“Do you love me?”

He bumped his hips again. His dick hardening fast.

Keith’s fingers dug into Lance’s boxers, applying just enough pressure to drive him forward, keep him pressed to his ass.

“I do… do you…?”

“Hmm… never thought about it before.”

Keith made a low unhappy noise.

“I def love your face… your so fucking pretty face…”

Keith went silent again. Lance ground his hips against him and his hard cock was finding a very comfortable place right between his cheeks.

“And I love this body...your ass is heaven, Keith, wish you could feel this...”

Keith was definitely naked. Naked enough that Lance was desperate to get out of his boxers.

How could his dream provide him perfectly naked love confessing Keith and not leave Lance equally perfectly naked?

Sense, where was it?

“I love how brave you are… stupid and reckless and it drives me insane with worry. But brave.”

Keith backed into Lance’s lap, rolling his hips and made Lance’s mind stutter.

“I love how—how much you care about things even when you don’t show it… I love your laugh…”

He could feel Keith’s entire body against his front, a single useless silk scarf around his waist, the rest probably lost somewhere in the bed. His hand found one of Keith’s nipples and he started to slowly rub his fingers around the nub causing Keith to raise his chest into the touch a bit more with a small high pitched sound.

“I love how you hum during flight simulations and I always leave coms open so I can hear you…”

With Keith raising his chest for Lance’s hand it gave him a moment to slip his other hand underneath him. He pinched his nipple between his thumb and forefinger once before sliding that first hand down the span of his body. Feather light touches over the ridges of his abs, loving the way Keith twitched and rocked harder back into Lance.

“I love how unbelievably dense you could be sometimes, you’re such a mess you’re perfect—” Lance moved his head so he was right against Keith’s ear for the word “perfect” but lost his nerve when he dropped his face into the back of Keith’s neck, “What am I saying… of course I love you.”

Did Lance have feelings for Allura? Yes. Did he wish she’d reciprocate? Yeah.

Did Lance feel guilty about indulging himself in a dream with someone who he also had some very strong (possibly stronger) feelings for? No, not at all.

Because real talk? If Keith had said half of this in real life Lance’s heart would have combusted and he would have kissed the life out of him by now—

Because that was just what Keith did to him sometimes.

He just… blew his mind with how much he could make Lance feel.

Christ.

Good lord.

He hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunity to kiss him yet.

He reached up with the arm that was beneath Keith, his hand spreading wide over his neck to grab his jaw and tentatively guide him to face him.

“Can I kiss you?”

Keith’s hips ground back hard as he laughed, “you’re asking that now?”

He was right.

Besides, kinda stupid to ask permission from a dream right?

“Stupid stupid me, right?”

“Stop that.”

“Right let’s get to the smooching.”

“Yeah alright I take it back.”

“If you love me you have to love all of me.”

Lance could practically hear Keith rolling his eyes.

“Hey it’s my dream—“

And it was absolutely superpowered. Maybe there was something in his drink that had different properties on this planet because when Keith parted his lips and lifted his head they had never looked so inviting in his life. He had to stop himself mid sentence to dive for those lips.

Smashed up his nose a little bit on Keith’s cheek which he was sure he would have felt too if this wasn’t a dream but Lance didn’t care because he was kissing Keith Kogane.

And yes. He’d had plenty of dreams where he’d kissed Keith. Plenty of dreams where they’d made out on the rec room floor or the garrison showers or had sex in reds cockpit.

But they had never ever felt like this.

His brain practically fizzled out.

He felt Keith’s tongue against his and then suddenly it was gone.

Felt like he was falling, disoriented. Someone (Keith?) reached out to catch him. Dug little blunt nails into his arm in panic.

“Lance—what—“

The dream shifted. Lance was alone, floating in an empty pool, naked and confused and annoyed.

The water was cold but didn’t make him shiver.

There was a splash in the distance, and Lance hoped it was Keith but he couldn’t see anything. Time passed and he started to lose sense of where he or the water began.

He’d have given anything to be back with Keith.

What a shitty way to end his dream…

When he woke up his throat was dry, like he’d had too much to drink the night before and his head spun a bit.

He sat up and found he was on the far side of the bed where Keith had gone to sleep. Didn’t even see Keith, so maybe he’d gotten up earlier and Lance had managed to settle into place where his body heat had been.

Of course that was for mere moments before he glanced to the opposite side of his bed and found… himself?

He also realized very suddenly he was buttnaked with only a silk scarf tied loosely around his hips and his hair was long enough to tickle his shoulders.

He looked down at himself and saw the expanse of absolutely flawless Keith body, down to the little dark hairs just under that useless scarf.

Lance wasn’t sure why he did it, but he reached down to grab himself in his palm (Keith in Keith’s palm??) And was immediately overwhelmed by the sensation of it. He had to bite his lip to keep quiet and fell back on the bed hard as his hand tightened to seek out the feeling. He was partially hard already and from the feeling of it he must have been suffering all night.

But excuse you Lance. This isn’t your body what are you doing?

Dreaming? Still? Could have sworn he was very much awake now…

He forced himself to stop, noting quietly that he was absolutely not going to forget what it felt like, and looked over at his own body.

Had to be a dream.

Had to be.

He shut his eyes, letting his finger tips graze over the inside of Keith’s thighs because dream or no there were so many nice things about that he was gonna keep doing it.

Well until someone shook him awake (again?)

It was strange seeing an expression that was so clearly Keith, puzzled with furrowed brows and tight lips, on his own face.

But there it was.

Staring at him like he was the strangest mystery in the known universe. Which, to be fair, if he was still wearing Keith’s face he kind of was. (And kind of had to be considering he definitely wasn’t the one wearing his own face.)

Keith (you know, it felt like Keith and acted like Keith, but he really didn’t know if that was Keith) was the first to register the shock of the mornings revelation. Lance actually felt kinda slow and confused. Maybe he’d drank too much— no wait, Keith did.

Anyway.

So.

Keith started screaming. And Lance started screaming.

And maybe that wasn’t a great idea while guests on a diplomatic mission in another world palace with your comrades in arms down the hall while you’re both pretty naked and in bed together.

But uh.

Fun morning.

#I hate that I have to do this again #Klance #body swap #sharing a bed #smut #smutty stuff for this blog because it's owed lbr #all I do anymore is whine #and my writing is off #idk #this is one of the older ones so maybe it's not too awful #keith is a mess #Lance has mixed feels #heavy pining #whatever

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