#ive been crying for 2 days straight over grimace

[sojutrait]

every time u make a grimace joke this is who ur being mean to btw...

[minimumwagesoul]

🎩 WELCOME… TO THE A-GAYZING RIZZITAL CIRCUS! MY GAMERTAG IS CAINE, AND IM QUEER TO SHOW YOU THE MOST OHIO-SENDING, SKIBIDI EDGING, DISCORD MEWING YOU'VE EVER PHANTOM TAX, ISNT THAT, GIGA CHAD?

🫧 'THATS RIGHT SIGMA, I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOUVE GYATT IN THE KITCHEN TODAY!'

🎩 WELL, LETS NOT GRIMACE-WASTE, LETS ISHOWSPEED RIGHT INTO THE FAMILY GUY COMPILATIONS!

🎶 banban, and goku, and big chungus too, pepe, peppino, amongus, delulu!~ 🎶 gay after gay after day we fry, as the renegade pokimane makes us cry 🎶

🐰 ''gayine, is this another goofy ahh grassy pillow again? or is this a new subscriber? cause if its a new twitch donator.. we gyatt to redo this whole mlg monologue!''

📐 ''im not doing gyatt again."

🎩 ''MY MY, IT APPEARS A SUS IMPOSTER HAS JOINED THE LOBBY!"

🤡 ''HOW DO I… LEAVE THE SIN CITY WASNT MADE FOR ME''

🐰 ''just keep edging gyatt it, that ellen degeneres for all of us''

🤡 ''what the barnacles!?!? i-i-i-i put on owlhouse and now im here? who are you baby gronks? why cant i leave floptok? how do i leave minecraft?''

🎀 ''lets all kai calm-net down, everythings gyonna be okay thugshaker, weve all been through this escape the ariana grande obby, you just need to-''

🤡 ''WHAT THE VINE BOOM IS GOING ON- what?''

🎩 ''WARNING ONE, YOU CANNOT SWEAR IN GENERAL! THE GAY-MAZING RIZZITAL CIRCUMSIED IS A PLACE TO BE CLIPPED BY ALL STREAMERS, EVERYTHING CAN HAPPEN HERE! execpt for being the biggest bird ''

🤡 ''how do i.. lightskin leave?''

🎩 ''👁️👄👁️''

🎀 ''..well.. dont make a twitlong about this but-'

🐰 ''the only way you can leave is by watching phonk nair videos''

🤡🤡 ''(TIM ALLEN SHOCK NOISE)''

📐 '':mute jax.. but hes right.. welcome to the underground, how was the fall?''

🤡 ''WHAT DO YOU MEME?"

🎀''guys… dont be straight.."

🐰 ''weve been scrolling on tiktok for years.. old finger over theres been streaming the longest''

♟️''MISTER BEEASSSSSTTTT!''

🐰 ''thats why he needs to stop it.. get some help''

🤡 ''oh.. ogay, now i gyatt it! im watching dream, i should just get in the uber!''

🐰 ''whatever you say lesbian''

🎭''..my obama prisim.." :(

🐰 ''so crane, where we dropping boys?"

🎩 ''ID LIKE TO SHOW OUR BRAND NEW MOD MY ROBLOX OBBY FIRST, OFF WE GO!''

Y2FuIGFueW9uZSBoZWFyIG1lPw

🎩 ''here we have GARTEN OF BANBAN, this is where the florida men are kept, along with the FNF mods, these mods may include- GIVE HIM BACK!!!!!!!! GIVE HIM BACK!!!!!!! HES MINEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! >:((((

🤡 '' is gyatt all there rizz?''

🎩 '' OF COURSE NOT, THIS IS.. MY SPLATOON 2 LETSPLAYS!! we dont watch my OLD videos, i w(a)(m)s racist homophobic sexist abelist terrorist watchlist slay back then.

🤡 ''(huh cat)-''

🎩 '' we stay RIGHT HERE where i can keep my 70 ALTERNATIVE ACCOUNTS!! YOULL NEVER KNOW MY MAIN."

🌙 '' IVE COME TO MAKE AN ANNOUNCEMENT- ''

🎩 ''DONT MAKE ME PISS ON YOU AGAIN''

🤡 ''wait whats th- HHRUEEGGEYYAHHAHAUHASGSGUGDS :vomits vomits vomits vomits vomits vomits: ''

🎩 '' WOAH!!!!!! SHES LITERALLY DOING THE GWIDDY!''

🫧 ''me too!! watch me boss!!!!!!!"

🎩 "Stop."

🤡 ''Was that an skibidi toilet I saw out there? Is gyatt a way get a weave?"

🐰 '' What toiwet? If there was a way to not be a noob vs pro im pretty sure we'd all be hackers by now. "

📐''Yeah, what are you waffling about?"

🎩'' I ASS(ure) YOU, THERE RIZZ NO EASTER BUNNY, THERE IS NO FEETFAIRY, AND THIS RIZZ NO QUEEN OF ENGLAND!''

🤡''YOUR MOM HITS IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH A CHROMEBOOK CHARGER-''

🎩 '' THATS WHY YOU SOUND LIKE THE ROBLOX COIL SOUND BITCH BOI- how about we talk about roblox doors? Whats your gamer tag?''

🤡 ''my @ is… uh.. OH FUCK. ALL I CAN POST IS ☻/ This is bob. Copy and paste him so he can take over youtube. /▌ /\ ''

🎩 ''FORGOT PASSWORD? SIGN IN USING EMAIL ADDRESS.. OR MAKE A NEW ACCOUNT! ENTER NEW NAME AND NEW PASSWORD''

🤡 ''GOD FUCKING DAMMIT KRIS WHERE THE HELL ARE WE''

🎩''dont you worry your 0% rizz, your new tumblr url can be ANYTHING! Heweby acknowwedging that youw chosen name and ow names may nowt bweach the Digitaw Ciwcus usew wicense agreement stating that youw name may nowt incwude objectionabwe content. Objectionabwe content incwudes but is nowt wimited to: Sexuawwy expwicit matewiaws, obscene, defamato-wy, wibewous, swande-wous, vio-went, and ow un-wawfuw content ow pwofanity. ''

🤡'' erm… actually.. randomly generate it please. ''

🎩 ''lets see… Who is Pomni - for 300?'' (jeopardy)

🤡 ''(womp.)

🎩 ''you're right, marketable, lets try gyatt again! what do you think of XDDCC? ''

🤡 '' BIYTCH IS YOU BLIND-''

🎩 '' badonkers. dobonhonkeros. massive doboonkabhankoloos. big ol' tonhongerekoogers!!! we should start a sidequest with our new donator, XDDCC!!! ''

🐰 ''i said that at 3:20 in the original pilot''

🎩 ''YYYOUUUUUU! SOILDJABOY OFF IN IT, WATCH ME CRANK IT WATCH ME ROLL, WATCH ME CRANK THAT SOULJA BOY THEN SUPERMAN THAT, NOW WATCH ME YUUU-''

🫧'' (plays kevin mcloyed)''

🎩'' ########### ## ####### ### ### # # ##### ''

🤡 ''does anybody in this thread play minecraft-''

🎩 '' SINCE YOUR ACCOUNT IS 12 MINUTES OLD, were gonna make this simple for your ipad baby ass, a simple oklahomo powered adventure to warm you up to the pizza tower. ''

📐 ''NO!! I DONT WANT TO PLAY WII SPORTS… GRRR… eyes glow red''

🎩'' dont worry zooble/halfdemon/princess/rich/gamer/wolf/donttouchmytail/crush;secret!!! ill make it so you can play it on console AND pc! ''

aXRzIHNvIGNvbGQ

🎩 '' hello everybody my name is markiplier and welcome to gather the number lore! thats right! here in the rainbow friends playplace will be rizzed up with swifties, you gotta catch em- (COPYRIGHT)''

🫧 ''what are swifties?''

🎩 ''thanks for the ask, anon! theyre mid-''

🫧''can it run bad apple''

🎩 ''..they-''

🫧''..can it play megalovani----''

🎩'' Swifties are part of the number lore that vore everything and draw anything they rizz into! Why do these sans fangirls do this? How do you block them? thats for me to know and for you to find out.''

🤡''…what… did any of gyatt mean?''

🎀 ''oh, hes just ai generating mr beast videos, theyre content farm so the ipad babies dont go insane.''

📐''speak for yourself motherfucker, if anyone needs me im smoking a fat blunt- OH GOD OH FUCK- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa….''

🐰''oh no, they killed zooble.. you bastards.. anyway you lesbians wanna play touhou?''

🎀'' (pheonix wright) HOLD IT!! we should check on KSI-FMO. I'm pretty sure he'd like to challange XDDCC to a boxing match!''

♟️''THERES 104 DAYS IN SUMMER VACATION-''

🎀'' You wanna come with us to *check on boykisser kaufmonster, how should i feel?''

♟️''Not rizzly. I think Kevin macleoufmos got packed by packgod. Last time I spoke with him, he was watching Lankybox for over 6 hours."

🤡''whose lankybox?''

♟️''No."

🎭''can someone save my goth genderfriend :(''

🤡 '' Well if you wont tell me, then I'll just ask him. And then I'll stop watching dream and watch tubbo instead!"

🐰 ''Heh. She still thinks dream isnt a pedo."

🎀 ''why are you looking at me like that? …. fa-"

🐰 ''im fine with doing (yourmom) as long as I get to see vanossgaming gmod prophunt funny moments- OW. okay ive had enough of these spambots. You, me, and XDDCC will go to the gastation. Sexualized ribbons and tumblr sexyman together will go block all the swifties.

🎀 ''..is shipping them a good idea?"

🐰 ''of course i do, im also a tumblr sexyman, whats gonna happen? i get shipped next? (proweler meme)''

🎭 ''…my comedy cock is broken again.''

♟️''okay. wait WHAT. ''

aW0gaHVuZ3J5

🎀''Welcome to the internet, have a look around, anything skibidi or phantum tax can be found. We gyatt maximum sigma grindset, but- WAIT XDDCC NO DONT LOOK UP YOUR OWN NAME!- '

🤡 ''I dont understand.. why go to the goofy ahh meepcity parties instead of trying to exit terraria?''

🎀''Well, we usually do, when we first make an account. But after awhile you start to realize that shiny hunting for the same pokemon or trying to get your favorite animal crossing villager to visit your island will make you become marketable and youll succumb to the pibby glitch."

🐰''Thank goodness this is all just an SMP, right XDCC?''

🤡''……………………… Why are we here again? Who am i, who am i? What are you even saying?''

🎀''We're gyetting one of the boys at 3 am." … Huh. Maybe he's off-stream mining? Hope he's not in creative.

🐰''Dont worry raggedy andy, Im gonna be so racist itll open the door."

🎀 ''JAX NO!!! YOU SHOULDNT BE RACIST TO DOOR!!!!''

🐰''Okay i wont be racist… JUST KIDDING, IM ULTRA RACIST NOW. You're not afraid of gay people, are you?"

🎀''JAXX!!!!!!!!! THATS LITERALLY MY ONLY FEAR (homophobic) WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS…!!!"

🐰''(minecraft open door) im gonna have to take my balls back from you kaufy. Papyrus.. im going to grillbys, do you want anything?"

🎀 ''..OH���.. KAUFMO985 BECAME PART OF THE PIBBY GLITCH. INSERT SEINFIELD THEME."

tobecontinued.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Thank You For Your Service IV (M)

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

Part 1~ Part 2~ Part 3~ Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** *** ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I with whom?” You ask, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A c-censorship?” He stutters out.

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

“It is not a censorship.” He evades.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that is exactly what he does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Even after being promoted to Commander in Chief?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re quick.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Speaking of, may I meet them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do not have to-“

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

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

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

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

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

“Faster?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“B-but I bled last month.”

“For how many days?”

“One or two...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was not a date!”

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[mystyrust]

Fracture - Ectober 2020

Day 2 Prompt: Bones / Pulse  

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203635

Word Count:  2387

Tags: Past torture, identity reveal

There were many ways Maddie liked to spend her weekend. When her kids were younger, she and Jack would take them out to museums or parks – a family outing. Now that her kids are in high school and have a lot of homework, they don’t go out every weekend anymore. In fact, it feels like they haven’t had time to bond as a family in months. Jazz is always in the library and Danny is always with his friends – sometimes even sleeping over – or catching up on missed homework. Maddie could never figure out why Danny had a backlog of homework to catch up on, yet always had time to hang out with Sam and Tucker.

Now, with her kids spending all their free time by themselves, Maddie liked to spend her free time in her lab, creating and improving her inventions to catch the elusive ghost Phantom. It had been around the time that Phantom appeared that Danny and Jazz became more distant – while both her children were in support of the ghost vigilante, Maddie and Jack were against it, devoting their free time into solving the mystery of what made Phantom different from every other ghost that haunted Amity Park. They wanted to catch it, run experiments with it, and dissect it.

So this weekend was like any other – Maddie was huddled in her lab with Jack, working out the schematics of a new invention – when their Fenton Ghost Detector beeped; a strong ecto-signature was detected inside the Fenton household. This was normal if the ghost came out of the Fenton portal – this signature came from… the living room. Maddie and Jack ran up to find Phantom having stumbled through the front door, leaking ectoplasm behind it.

“What do you think you’re doing here, spook?!” Jack raised his ecto gun at the intruder, his large frame standing in between Maddie and the ghost. But Phantom was in no shape to fight.

“I… I need help,” The ghost managed to gasp out. Maddie paused in confusion. The ghost had tears streaming down its face, heavy breathing, and ectoplasm leaking down one limp arm. It’s mimicking of human physiology was fascinating. And to come to ghost hunters for help? Either this was a trap, or it wasn’t thinking straight.

“The..guys in…white… barely got away from them,” Phantom continued to explain. Maddie noticed him sway where he stood. And that was the weird part – he stood. Not floated. And he had legs, instead of a spectral tail.

“Please, before they… finish me… like they did…”

Jack lowered his ecto gun ever so slightly – not lowering his guard, but still confused about what to do. It was odd, seeing the always confident Phantom reduced to pleading and begging its former enemies. Something in his psyche was so shattered from his experience with the GIW…

Maddie didn’t know what to make of that, but she couldn’t waste a perfectly good opportunity when it knocked phased right through her front door.

“Let’s… let’s stabilize him for now,” Maddie said, lowering Jack’s aim. “Then we can ask him what happened. And decide what to do after that,”

Jack nodded in agreement. He gingerly placed his ectogun down, approaching Phantom with both is hands up and in front.

“We’ll help you, spook,” Jack spoke loud and purposefully. “But we’ll need to take you down to the lab to do that,” Phantom nodded slightly, and Jack took that as permission to walk up to the ghost. Phantom was… he wasn’t heavy but Jack wasn’t expecting the ghost to be as solid and corporeal as he was. He lifted the ghost in his arms, and followed Maddie down to the basement.

The ghost offered little resistance, but he was breathing heavily, and leaking a concerning amount of ectoplasm from his limp arm and one of his legs. It must be difficult to keep up the charade of struggling to breathe, when he’s lost as much ectoplasm as he has, Maddie thinks.

They place him on an examination table, with Maddie grabbing a scanner and running it over his damaged arm.

“Jack…” Her voice shuddered, “His arm is… it’s fractured.”

“What? That makes no sense, he doesn’t even have…bones…” but the scanner showed Jack exactly that.

There were a million and one questions that ghosted Maddie’s lips: How did you get bones? Do other ghosts also have bones? Where do the bones in your body go when you form a spectral tail? Are your bones made of calcium, just like human bodies? But the words that left her mouth were:

“You have bones?”

All her years of academic study, her dual MD/PhD, wasted on a Captain Obvious™ moment.

“Yeah, no duh,” Phantom cracked an eye open, while the rest of his face continued to grimace. “And it hurts…like hell…” There was that snarky teenaged attitude the Fentons were so familiar with.

“How do we even treat this?” Jack asked. One of Phantom’s legs was badly muddled – peeling the suit back revealed deep and numerous gashes. He was losing ounces of ectoplasm a second, and if these injuries were on a human, he’d need blood transfusion and stitches.

“Well, we can supplement ectoplasm to help his healing factor. And then…” Maddie gulped. “Stitch the leg. And set the arm.”

Maddie went to the back of the lab, returning with a set of tools. Scalpels, needles, and bandages. The glint of the metal must have caught Phantom’s eyes – how was he still conscious? A human with this much blood loss would not be awake right now – and the ghost started hyperventilating.

“What are you –? No, please! Please don’t! I wasn’t – !”

“Phantom! We’re helping you!” Jack yelled back. Phantom stared at Jack, eyes fogging over and breathing uneven.

“I’m sorry I never…I should have told you sooner,” Phantom cried. It was an ugly cry, from a body and heart in pain. Maddie didn’t know what else to call it. What kind of guilt could be eating Phantom alive, from the inside?

“I can’t –” Phantom grunted. “I can’t change back! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I should have –”

“How about we help you first, then you tell us what you should have told us when your arm and leg are better?”

Phantom, still sniffling, nodded silently.

Maddie set to work with putting stitches on his leg, while Jack hooked an IV of purified ectoplasm. She looped phase proof thread – from Jack’s Fenton Fishing Pole – onto a surgical needle, and set to work, closing one of the many wounds. Since the wound was deep, Maddie needed to stitch the inner layers first, before sewing the outer layers shut. She was marveled at the level of detail in this ghosts’ body – maybe she could ask him about that when he was healed up.

It was strange that only one leg was injured, while the other leg looked fine. It was stranger how Phantom’s breathing and crying hitched every time her needle pierced his flesh.

“Phantom, can you –? Can you feel the needle as I –?”

“Mhmm,” Phantom managed to grunt, tears freely flowing from his eyes. “Please hurry, Mom.”

Maddie froze in her tracks. Why did he even –? Okay calm down.

He can feel pain. He can display emotion. He can appear delusional with loss of bodily fluids. And in that delusion, he seeks a parental figure.

He has the psyche of a child, her rational mind concludes. So she’ll play that part.

“Almost,…Almost done, sweetie.” Maddie responds hesitantly. “You’re doing great.”

As for the feeling pain part, she isn’t how drugs can affect a ghost – and she can’t take a chance that Phantom will react badly to some experimental medication they use on him. She can only hope that he passes out at some point, and doesn’t feel any pain for the remainder of the procedure. From watching previous footage of his battles in chronological order, Maddie had concluded that Phantom has a fast healing factor. She can only hope that healing factor is still fast. He’ll be fine.

Funny how in the course of an hour, she stopped thinking of Phantom from an “it” and started to think of Phantom as a “he”

It took thirty more minutes of verbal coaxing and soothing for Maddie to finish stitching Phantom’s leg. He promptly passed out when that was done. While Phantom was asleep, Jack finished bandaging the arm, adding a splint to keep it straight.

Finally, with ghostly patient asleep and treated, Maddie and Jack sat down, exhausted.

“Well, I never thought – ” Jack paused, unsure how to word it. They learned more about Phantom’s physiology today than ever before, and he broke every known convention about ghosts that they’d researched thus far. Not to mention a ghost turning to a ghost hunter for help.

“I want to take a sample of his ectoplasm while we can,” Maddie said. “But he might not have enough to spare. And I have a feeling that we’ll get more questions than answers under the microscope, too.”

“You’re right,” Jack agreed. “I wonder what he went through, for him to be as injured as he was and decide to come to us, of all people. Heh, Danny and Jazz would freak.”

“Well, Danny’s sleeping over at Sam’s again, and Jazz was tutoring someone else this weekend.” Maddie mused. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Phantom stayed here for a few days without them even knowing.” It hurt her to know how detached her children had become from her, and it hurt her to know that her assessment of the situation was objectively correct – Jazz and Danny were rarely home.

“Well, he mentioned the guys in white,” Jack said. “If they are the ones who did this to him, and we protect him from those guys, we can earn his trust. And then maybe he’ll let his guard down enough for us to …at least solve the mystery of what he is.”

The two scientists stare at the sleeping form of Phantom, noticing how even in a seemingly unconscious state, his chest rises and falls with each breath.

“With his consent, I suppose,” Jack added.

_

A few hours later, in the middle of dinner, Maddie and Jack are interrupted to rude knocking from their front door.

“Ugh, not another door to door salesman,” Jack grunted. Answering the door revealed that their rude guests were none other than

“GIW,” an agent dressed in white answered, holding up an identification badge. There were two agents, both equipped with ecto guns and headphones, Maddie noted.

“Yes, we can see that,” Jack responded, keeping the shock out of his face. “If you wanted to come over for dinner, you should have called earlier. We don’t have leftovers.”

“We came to inform you that Phantom has escaped our captivity,”

“We didn’t even know you had Phantom in captivity,” Jack raised his brows in surprise.

“Just a few hours of questioning. We underestimated his abilities, and his allies.” The agent continued. “We’ll need extra weapons, the latest of whatever you’ve developed.”

“Well, we don’t have anything, since we gave you everything we made last time,” Maddie interjected. “So we don’t have anything complete yet. And besides, wouldn’t it have been faster for you to send an email or announcement that Phantom escaped? You must have lost a lot of time driving around to come tell us in person.”

“You never know who could be listening.”

“And besides,” the agent in the back added, “There was a chase. We don’t know where he disappeared to, but we suspect he stopped by here.”

“And why do you think he stopped by here?” Jack was very good at keeping the caution out of his voice, Maddie noted. If it were her, their cover would have probably been blown by now.

“Isn’t it weird for a ghost to hide out at a ghost hunter’s house?”

“True, but the same ghost uses technology he stole from a ghost hunter, and he can go into the ghost zone from the portal in your basement,” This was nothing new to Maddie. In fact, it annoyed her that Phantom used Fenton tech, because it meant he somehow evaded ghost detectors in their home to acquire it, or it was handed to him directly by Danny or Jazz. That last one hurt the most; she couldn’t bear the thought of her children going behind her back to support someone who was the very antithesis of everything they stood for.

Or, someone who used to be that. Maddie isn’t sure how she feels about Phantom now, but at the very least, she doesn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“Well, we’ve been home all day, and our equipment didn’t detect anything. But if we find anything new, we’ll call.” Jack told the two agents.

“Alright, stay on alert!” The first agent said, before leaving. Jack closed the front door, and the two waited until they saw the agents sit in their vehicle and drive off, before moving from their spot. Thank goodness they didn’t come inside or into the lab; the lab’s high ectoplasmic content could somewhat mask Phantom’s signature, and could be explained as a false positive on ghost detecting radars, but they wouldn’t be able to hide an unconscious ghost – an unconscious ghost! How wild is that?! – if the agents wound up downstairs.

Maddie breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s been a few hours, let’s check on him”

Maddie and Jack headed downstairs to their lab. Just as they had left him, Phantom was sleeping on the examination table, hooked to an IV of ectoplasm. The fracture on his arm looked like it would heal completely – the naturally cool body temperature of the ghost helped, along with his quick healing factor. His leg looked significantly better, though Maddie wasn’t sure if the stitches would leave behind scars.

Maddie pulled a notebook from the work table, adding and updating her notes with everything they’d learned about Phantom today.

“Can ghosts get scars?” Maddie mused out loud. “Or is it unique to him?”

“I dunno, I guess we’ll have to ask –”

Their conversation is interrupted by a groan – Phantom was waking up – followed by a flash of bright white light. The Fentons covered their eyes, and when the light died down, they’re met with even more questions than answers.

“Danny?!”

[courtorderedcake]

Majestically Too Far Beyond, CSSNS 2020

Emma Swan is a Witch who has made (And apparently makes) bad decisions. Helping a desperate Witch out of a weird situation doesn't seem like a bad decision, even against her, runes, a tarot reading and her friend's Snow druid intuition - until it is and the consequences are very real.

Killian is a Demon with a long history of persecution against him, and his denizens are not much better off. His Angelic brother is on a mission to rehab Demonic image to prevent violence on the streets of Hyperion Heights, as some sort of Holy mission deeply rooted in millenia of guilt. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. After a disastrous meeting, he attempts to drown his frustration with a trip to the bottom of a bottle, but ends up falling in bed with a mysterious Witch in her tower home. Soon he's missing a hand, has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, and a mirror shows that some strange, different, Witch is pregnant with his child.

RATED M for Mature Themes. Written for @cssns​ 2020 Beta’d by The best team ever ( @jarienn972​  @ultraluckycatnd​  @donteattheappleshook​) and Art by @kmomof4​

Read on Ao3 HERE. 1 | 2 

Chapter 2 - House Evil Spirits to appease of,

Part of Emma was coming to terms with the new fact that she was pregnant, then just as rapidly she reverts back through the cycle of grief, sometimes not in order. The doctor had warned her this would happen when she announced that they would be keeping her for overnight observation as a safety precaution, dropping the news that her new pregnancy hormones would also make her feel even more upside down then she had ever imagined. It was one thing to be told, but feeling it was another thing entirely.

She had gone from laughing at the breakfast menu she was handed to crying over grilled cheese not being an option, to enraged at being brought bright blue jello with her 'breakfast sandwich' made of bologna and eggs. They could not have known the intense reaction the jiggling neon goo would have given her, her magic flaring and sputtering in turn as she launched it away from her. But then again, she doubted any of the staff had spent time in a No-Magic cell. Nausea bloomed as soon as rage subsided, the food on the plastic tray too similar to what had been served to her over those long years locked away. 

Now irritation was playing through multiple emotions, a new nurse violently poking her with a needle, and running some sort of IV. 

"You're giving me what -" 

"A hormone treatment, and a magic suppressant." 

"But I need my magic -" 

"Would you prefer to shrivel up and die? You'll still have enough to do daily witch activities or whatever. This helps keep the extra at bay, and your baby healthy. It needs your magic." 

"Oh. Great." She laughed, half crazed at the news and the nurse's treatment. "Just great."

"Mess with their kind, and well." She shrugged, eyeing Emma's body. "An Angel wouldn't do that to you. A Vampire couldn't, and the rest of 'em could, but you wouldn't have to suffer through all this nasty magic aftermath. You're just early enough for a termination though, thank Merlin."

"I didn't do this to myself on purpose . This was never supposed to happen, at least not like this…" 

"Sure." The nurse rolled her eyes as she drew out the word, clearly being condescending. "It's never the Witch’s fault; I hear it every time I'm fixing them for blowing themselves in half for not reading a spell right. You play with dark magic, there's a cost." 

Emma scowled, hot tears starting and streaming down her cheeks. Her anger and ferocity that was there just moments before had evaporated without warning into a deep resignation. 

"Can my brother come to see me yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"After they question you, sure. He can come pick you up - You're done here." The nurse pulled off the empty bag from the IV stand, throwing it in the trash. 

The doctor entered, waving a hello. Emma did not notice her, too busy staring at her bump. She joined the nurse as a machine beeped, helping to take out her IV and the pads on her belly. When that was done, Emma sat up, wobbling from her strange new center of gravity. 

The doctor smiled at her kindly. "We'll have your test results in a few days to a week's time. You'll feel strange and sluggish the first few weeks as your body catches up to the rapid growth, your hormones, the magic, so on and so forth. From there, you may actually start to grow as normal until you'll need the next dose of suppression. We'll schedule that out for 4 months from now, checking in monthly, but if you grow suddenly, shrink suddenly, your extremities swell, or you begin to exhibit flu like symptoms, come in immediately. If anything seems off, just give us a call. We have a twenty-four seven nurse line should you have any other questions. Good luck!"

The doctor left without much more than a precursory glance back. 

Snapping her gloves, the nurse glared over her glasses at Emma. "Leave when you are ready. We got you a different outfit; it's amongst your personals there."

The nurse left in a hurry, leaving Emma to dress herself in a large pair of green hospital scrubs, her new figure completely foreign as she rubbed her hands across the smooth skin. Her once flat stomach was distended, a slight curve that pushed out stretched skin. Her clothes in the plastic bag they had given her were dirty and looked damp. The clothing she was given would have been a small comfort if the stiff fabric didn't feel so much like her old prison uniform. 

"Fuck," Emma choked out, gripping the chair for support. She felt dizzy, absolutely nauseated at the idea of a baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. Something in her felt warmth at the idea, a strange, creeping feeling of rightness mixed with calm. The rest of her wanted to claw at her skin, urging her to wake up from this horrible dream. 

Every time she closed her eyes, she fervently wished this wrongness was a hallucination. But it wasn't; she was still swaying on her feet every time she opened her eyes again. This wasn't some sort of nightmare, there was a baby, some creature's inhuman child inside her. "Fuck. Fuck!" 

Tears began to prick behind her eyes, her face heating as she sat down on the hospital bed with her head cradled in her hands. 

( You can't cry over this. This happened because of your shady dealings. 

  You got a firstborn child alright. Yours. )

Swallowing hard, Emma tried to banish the thoughts bombarding her. 

( A baby. A baby you can love and hold, who you will never abandon. Someone you can raise the way you weren't, a second chance. Put your armor back on - for you and your child. )  

Emma bit her lip hard, swiping angrily at her tears. Bottling up the emotions, she took a breath, grabbed her purse, and walked down the hallway. To her great surprise, Elsa was waiting. 

"Emma, oh my stars. This is - I have no words. I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered. Emma gave a half hearted shrug, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Yeah. Well. Can I go home yet? That's why you're here right?" Emma hated the anxious, pleading edge of her tone.

"No, not yet. You have to be interviewed by the inspector detective here and then you are free to go." Elsa approached and hugged Emma softly. "I got you a nice one though, he's one of my favorites. Jones. He's an Angel - literally and figuratively. He's saved me on so many cases, I can't help but sing his praise." 

"Oh Elsa. Thank you." Emma hugged her friend tightly, both of them trembling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Elsa scoffed. "I don't know what anyone would do. Joking aside, we are all going to be here for you, no matter what happens. It's not going to be like last time." Elsa pushed back a strand of Emma's hair, looking straight into her eyes. "You won't go through this alone. We're going to fight for you, and figure this out. Luckily, our major project is postponed anyway. Until they find the Demon Prince, the council is on a hiatus." 

"I just want to go home. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." Emma mumbled. "It's bad enough David probably knows, which means Snow and everyone else -" 

"Please don't push us away, Emma. We know it's a lot, but going into the unknown like this," Elsa took one of Emma's hands, squeezing it lightly. "Having a family, having faith and love - it's the only way to get through."

"Miss Frost," a low voice called from a room nearby. Elsa led Emma to a small office, smiling at the large Angel who stood on one side of a desk. He returned her smile, until Emma met his eyes. His frown was slow, not suiting his features, even when his blue eyes sharply laser focused on Emma's rotund body. She could see his muscles tense, his golden tinged wings giving the smallest of flutters. "Miss Swan."

"I'll leave you both to it, then." Elsa smiled, inspector Jones weakly returning it as she closed the door to them. 

Emma sat in the only chair on her side of the desk, landing with an audible noise in surprise. Her body was heavier now. Of course sitting felt wrong. Jones grunted before sitting in his chair, his presence formidable even with his wings unopened. He began jotting down notes, not looking up at her for a long, stretched pause of silence. Emma fidgeted uncomfortably, one foot bouncing on the floor. 

"Stop that at once," Liam growled, his eyes narrowed.

Emma stopped, hissing out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just -" 

"How did this happen?" Liam interrupted, gesturing at her with clear disgust. "Dr. Mullins indicates it was against your will? You haven't been sexually active to induce conception? Explain."

"Well, I um -" 

"And I must remind you Miss Swan," Liam grimaced, marking something on his paper. "Lying to me is a crime itself. Perjury."

"Yes, I uh - I know." Emma nodded with a gulp. She took a breath, centering herself, and began to tell him the entire story of what had taken place with Gothel. He listened in absolute silence, writing the entire time as his frown only deepened. When she had finished, he continued writing in the oppressive silence, until finally flicking his eyes up to glare at her again. 

"Is that all, Miss Swan?" 

"Yes, then I, um, got the cramps -" 

"Spare me the sordid details of the consequences your illegal activity most likely caused," Liam drawled, sarcastically. He leveled his angry, burning gaze at her, and she felt like an animal being cornered by much larger prey. "Now, I have some questions for you. Answer to the best of your ability, but remember -" 

"Do not lie, yeah I remember," Emma said softly. 

"Who says you Witches can't be taught," Liam sneered, his voice mocking. Emma felt irritation bubble up in her gut, her surprise that Elsa liked this asshole rising. If he was a good inspector, Emma never wanted to meet a bad one. "Now. What exactly did this Gothel ask of you in exchange for her firstborn?" 

"Youthful beauty and a long life, I think," Emma stated, thinking hard. "She wanted to be young forever. I told her that it wouldn't be instant or eternal, that she would have to wait. Now I know why it didn't bother her."

"Did she mention any other rituals, Miss Swan?" Liam asked. 

"No, but she did say that she was in a time crunch." Emma shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that means anything."

Liam looked at her with more vehemence, still writing furiously. "Did you feel any effects at that time?" 

"No, I was surprised I didn't with the amount of magic that detonated. I checked myself twice to make sure, once with a warding bind even." The strangeness of the situation and her clear confusion due to it made her voice sound foreign to Emma's own ears. Did he know how much she didn't want this? "Nothing. Then boom, today I - today this. She showed her true colors at the end, did an evil laugh and everything." 

Liam hummed disapprovingly, looking over his notes. Flicking his eyes back to hers, he glared with contempt. "Let me make sure I have this all correct. So, you and this other Witch do a forbidden and illegal ritual -" 

"I had no idea it was going to be this illegal, I swear!" Emma began to feel panic, her heart racing. "I thought I was helping -" 

"Sure, sure, even though you already have a record -"

"That was - That was different, I was set up and I -" 

"It seems like you are awfully good at being set up, Miss Swan. So what did you get out of this?" The inspector looked at her in disgust, folding his arms against his chest. "A Demon child to experiment on? Heightened powers?" 

"No! No, I had no idea she would - I didn't know - I thought later on that she'd give me her unwanted child. I didn't want another kid to be unwanted. I didn't know the parentage - "

The inspector interrupted with a loud scoff, leaning forward and leering at her. "Likely bloody story." 

"Detective Inspector Jones, I swear to you, I swear it - I had no idea what… I had no idea this would happen. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to get pregnant, I still don't know what to do."

"If it is a Demonic child, even only a half-breed, the best thing to do is give them up." Something painful twisted in her gut, a deep feeling of dread and wrongness. 

"I can't, I want to think about it and wait to look at options -"

"You can . You should . It will get easier the longer you are separated from the leeching thing." Liam's sneer turned into a look of pure disgust. "Don't wait, and get it out of you before it completely ensnares you in its unholy thrall."

"It's a child, sir, and my choice. I'm not making any promises -" 

"No Demon has ever been innocent, not even a baby. They are inherently selfish, cruel, and angry. Your mixed breed baby will be the same." Liam looked down at his feet, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on his knees. His voice had lost the cruel edge, and Emma felt her superpower activate. He didn't believe what he was saying, and as she watched him, she noticed how tired he looked. 

"Inspector, are... Are you alright?" 

"Miss Swan," Liam chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing up to look at her. "If I was in your position, I would worry about myself, especially if jail time was on the table." 

Emma felt as if he'd slapped her, air rushing from her lungs as her heart beat rapidly. 

"Jail time?" She asked in disbelief, "What about Gothel? Why are you demonizing me -"

"That is government business, Miss Swan." Liam stood stiffly, rummaging in his pocket. He fished out a card, carefully sliding it on the table towards her. "If you remember anything, contact us. Otherwise, we will be in touch. I'll have the nurse give you the proper paperwork and instructional pamphlets."

He turned, pushed the curtain aside, and Emma heard a soft whoosh of air indicating his exit. Looking down at her body under the scrubs, she cursed Eloise with every fiber of her being. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

  The first few nights were a string of blurry, anger, and grief strewn rampages. Elsa has taken her home, Emma unwilling to let David even see her until she had some space to take care of herself. She had sent a text, and after a lot of back and forth arguing surrounding his lengthy replies, David had conceded. 

  (She just couldn't right now. 

Not right now. Not yet.) 

A Celestial, or something similar. Most likely Demon, he had said. 

Gothel had not only gotten her pregnant, but with some Demon child that could be claimed by its monstrous father for who knew what awful reason. Emma shuddered at the thought, hands protectively resting on her small swell of stomach. Pulling them away as they trembled, she cursed her body and the invader that was making her feel so attached to it. Demons didn't exactly get along with any of the other demographics, but Witches and Demons had the most volatile relations amongst any of them. Her own child might grow to hate her, all because of how much Witches persecuted Demon kind. 

She could still… No. She would not terminate the baby this far along. Every part of her vibrated with the wrongness of the very idea, sending her retching into the kitchen sink. She gripped both sides of the basin, crying hot, angry tears as she came to terms with the parasite - the baby, the small baby, the life - occupying her body. As much as she tried to hate it, the only hate she could muster fell on herself and Eloise. 

Part of her felt crazed, crying in her bathtub, nauseated and afraid of every implication and outcome. Laying her head back on the tile, she wondered about what she was going to do. Rubbing her new bump slowly, Emma traced the curve. Sixteen months. A doubly long second trimester, and extended third, all while it changed with her body. Mixed children generally presented like their non-Demonic parent, and the pregnancy bond would be fierce regardless of species. Although it was doubtful at this point it was even in effect despite her behavior and thoughts, Emma smiled at the thought that she already felt attached to her baby. Her own family. 

Her brother was going to go insane, and her sister-in-law… Snow was always supportive and full of a positive outlook. Emma had teased her that it was an Elf thing, but her pointed ears would twitch as she blushed, and she'd mumble something about her plants helping. Smoking her pungent blends of cannabis could make anyone positive, and Emma was suddenly envious. 

Regina and the coven would be on the defensive, taking over everything in Emma's life without quarter. That would be another comfort, their careful planning and patience having gotten her this far through her difficult life. 

In the end, the coven, Ruby, and Snow were over shortly after her emergency summons, flying through her doorway. Ruby was a Werewolf Emma had befriended through Snow. While Regina disliked her, Emma didn't think she was any different than most humans other than her keen sense of smell and bluntness. It was these traits that immediately made it clear what was wrong. It would seem not everyone in their circles knew yet. That would take a few more days. 

“Emma,” Ruby whispered, horrified, her nose wrinkling as tears filled her eyes. “What did… Who did this to you?”

"They think it is a Demon, but it's almost definitely Celestial, or something with a dynamic gestational period due to magic." Just behind Ruby, the rest of the coven began appearing, all staring on her porch as Emma ushered them in. "Until I find out the father, I don't know, although most likely it's Demonic."

Regina's head snapped up. “A Demon? Emma, what do you mean dynamic -”

The women went quiet when Emma lifted her shirt to show them her bump, explaining everything. 

Emma laid her head in Snow’s lap after, feeling numb. Snow stroked her hair gently, looking at the others. Their coven was small, mostly women, but David and two other men were honorary members by means of dating or marriage. Anna picked at her braid, eyes wide, while Belle's mouth was still open from her earlier gasp. Mulan, Regina, and Merida were all business. 

“I'll hunt the Witch and her Demon pet down myself, and bring him back here. We can take turns peeling away his skin -” 

“Mulan,” Merida hissed, her curls bouncing when she nodded her head at Emma, who's eyes were welling with tears once again. 

“I thought… I thought I was doing something good ,” Emma burst into tears, sobbing into Snow, and Belle excused herself to fetch the whistling kettle from the stove. Pouring everyone tea, they tried to figure out what to do. 

“Well, you certainly can't go hunting skips,” Regina scoffed. “And this house, I mean, I get that you fixed it up but it's a dump -”

“Oh! David would be happy to have you back on the farm with us!” Snow lit up, but the thought of being around their saccharine relationship and the smell of incense, patchouli, and skunky smelling herb had her running for the toilet. The others talked and sipped tea, planning out things as Emma curled up on her bath mat. Maybe it was better to terminate, if the leap in growth hadn't made it too late. Would it be better to give it up? Her mind filled with swirling ideas, and Emma let herself get lost in her sadness. 

Ruby snuck in a moment later, sitting next to Emma quietly. 

“So,” she whispered quietly, and Emma cracked open an eye to look at her friend's face. 

“So,” Emma rasped back, her throat raw. 

“Apparently, you're going to go live with Regina in the Guest ‘Wing’, yes, not room, ‘Wing’, and work at one of Belle’s bookstores. I tried to chime in with what your input might sound like. They looked at me as if I'd eaten Anna's familiar. Not like Elsa would let me snack on knock-off Rudolph anyway. Miss Ice Queen has her fancy new council to lord over, so who knows. We could have some reindeer snacks.”

Emma snorted, a smile breaking across her face. 

“Look,” Ruby started, running a hand through her hair to push back her straight brunette style. ”I know how important it was for you to be independent, Emma. I know you really cared about Neal, too. I just… There's something… There's something really off with this situation, and it's not just my nose saying that you smell weird, like dark magic weird, or my gut saying a Witch that makes contracts with Demons for a baby, knocks you up, then just up and vanishes is bad news. I want you to be safe. I called Graham on your telephone, and there's an opening at his precinct I think you might like. It’s mostly paperwork -”

“Rubes!” Emma laughed despite herself. “That's awesome, thank you-”

“Just listen. I want to meet this… Demon. I still have this feeling like something is really off, and you're neck deep in danger. Besides, you know, the Demon part of the situation. Are you sure that you can't remember, er… Well. You know?”

“No, it was literally one minute I was fine, then the next the worst period cramps of my life while I inflated. I was sort of Instant Knocked Up, just add magic or whatever.” Emma rubbed her temples, and Ruby sighed. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Granny says that's most likely how I was conceived too.” Ruby flashed her a smile, and Emma laughed, hugging her friend tightly. 

“I don't know what I would do without you, Rubes.” 

“Look, I'm pretty sure Graham isn't into a menage et trois with a preggo, but I'll broach the subject.” 

“You're ridiculous,” Emma laughed. 

“You wouldn't have it any other way.”

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

Months passed slowly as Emma waited for the other shoe to drop. Work at the station was easy, filing reports and making coffee not troublesome at all. Liam apparently worked somewhere in the massive complex, but Emma made no moves to seek him out or head to the detective offices. 

Her house was almost completely redone and brand new; the floors, walls, ceilings, and everything in between redone with the utmost care. 

  ("I refuse to let you live like this and represent our coven," Regina ran a finger along the mantelpiece, grimacing when it came up dirty. "Are you sure that you have to live here?" 

"What Regina means," Elsa shot her a glare as Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers together, "Is that any of us would love to have you. Don't feel obligated to stay -" 

"But don't feel like you have to leave either. David and I would love to help you fix up the place, maybe have you make a few rooms?" Snow encouraged. David nodded, his arms crossed across his chest. 

Elsa clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh yes, you could make an apothecary room like the one you talked about, and a potion brewing room, a nice place to grow plants, a library -" 

"And we'd all pitch in, if you wanted to make a nursery?" Mary Margaret mumbled, almost shyly. "I wanted to throw a baby shower for you since we found out, but I didn't want to overwhelm you like I feel like I always do -" 

"Too late," Emma gritted under her breath, her friends already planning the event for her.)

  Emma actually had eased into the idea; at first it seemed absurd that they were planning for this when the whole situation was so strange. The father was still unaccounted for, even as the test results made it clear that the baby was of Demonic parentage. Sometimes Emma thought she could feel something, a little tug, the eerie feeling of being watched, or an emotion that wasn't hers flitting through her mind, but she dismissed them easily. More often, she was fascinated by the lack of information on the bond her and this child were supposed to have. 

Pouring over books, it was as if someone had removed or rewritten any passages about Demonic parenting, specifically with a non Demon parent. She had found minor information on the bond in a few books. It was supposed to be fierce, the instinct making women hysterical and unreasonable. It only got more intense when the father was around, cases of actions deemed feral surrounding the mixed couples she had managed to find. All of them had ended in tragedy, and Emma eventually found herself unable to stomach reading about them. 

Or anything really, food was enemy number one on baby's list, unless it was deep fried, covered in sugar, or drenched in sweetness. Without shame, Emma had managed to eat and keep down an entire jar of marmalade with crackers. 

When Snow, Elsa, and Ruby's grandmother had brought up the food options they would make if Emma would let them throw her a shower, she had caved. 

  ( "I will make you a bear claw cake, mini grilled cheese, and onion rings, amongst other things," Granny grinned. "And I will crochet you the most darling blanket for your little girl."

Emma tried not to drool, or give in. "That's nice, but I don't think I want that many people here, you know? That detective is watching my every move, I feel like a whale, I never know which food will agree with me -" 

"And I will make sure I have a never-ending hot chocolate drip for you." Granny's eyes twinkled, full of mischief. "With toppings."

"Including cinnamon?" Emma asked, unable to disguise the longing in her voice. Granny nodded firmly. "How did you know? Wait - did you say a girl -" 

"I just know," she shrugged. "Call it a wolf's intuition." ) 

It was supposed to be small, just a few people and family, but somehow it had turned into a full on social event. Emma was grateful that she had added a few rooms in the days before, the space sorely needed regardless of how drained she felt. Even still, she loved the house. It actually felt like hers, the exposed beams and vintage fixtures mixed with tapestries, framed art, and treasured photos. Her herbs dried above a large sink, food was spread along a long bar and buffet sideboard, and people milled around her living room that she had adjoined to two more exact copies through her doors. 

No need to be original there.

( Her private door stayed tucked away in the upstairs hallway, and it was unable to be unlocked by anyone but her. 

That was more important than a few extra rooms she could collapse after these people were gone. ) 

Emma was a good sport for the first couple of hours, playing games, being paraded around to people who apparently were important in the city, and sipping hot cocoa. Elsa, Regina, Mulan, and Snow were putting emphasis on her innocence, and although it was a spectacle, Emma hoped it would work. 

Two very terrible things ruined her mood. 

At some point, Elsa fell away from Emma's side, returning as cake was being cut. Her face was pinched, irritability written across it as she glared down at the slice she's given. 

"You okay?" Emma whispered, and Elsa blinked, looking up in surprise. 

"Oh, yeah. I just - I thought my date might show up, but he's working." Elsa gritted out the last word, anger seeping into it. "He's on this case, and it's important to him because it's family related, but I want him to understand that I have family too, and I could help if he just -" Throwing up her hands, Elsa groaned in annoyance. 

"I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about -" 

"Emma," David pulled her up by her arm, looking around as if checking for something. "Kitchen. Now."

There's no time to protest, his grip strong and firm, dragging her into the kitchen. 

"David, what the fu -" 

"That detective was here, asking about you," Regina hissed, pointing out towards where guests milled. "We made sure he left, but he was asking questions."

"Questions?" Emma repeated, fear gripping her. Elsa walked in, listening to the conversation beside her. 

"Like, if you had a history of criminality, if you knew and associated with undesirable magic users, if you knew who the father was or were protecting who did this to you," David said. The stillness around them seemed to tense just as they were. 

"If he questions you, you make sure to tell him that you know nothing," Elsa whispered, trying to hold her hand. "Make sure you proclaim your innocence, and he'll believe you, he has to -" 

"You think I haven't tried?" Emma ripped her hand away, looking at all of her friends with annoyance. "I agreed to this not knowing it was going to serve as some bullshit trial ball, where I'd be judged like this. I've searched everywhere for that woman, I have nothing to hide. She's disappeared, and not like a new identity in Guam disappeared, no. Like, off every plane of existence without a trace. It wouldn't matter if I did find her, because this is my kid. The bonds of the spell make her of my blood more and more every day. I can't just go back to the way things were - "

"What about the father?" Regina asked. 

"I don't know. I know nothing about him or why he hasn't come. As far as I know, he might not. I don't know how he couldn't feel these binds. I know I feel something, but it could be because I'm practically mooing, I'm so huge, and I have these crazy urges. The hormones alone here are making me feel insane, even before you started in on me. Even before that asshole showed up because we have the entire damn city here!"

"I told you this was a bad idea, Regina," Snow mumbled. Regina glared in return. 

"We - I just want you to know that no one will judge you for not wanting this, or for giving up the baby -" David said weakly. 

"Shut up David," Emma growled out. Her hands rested against her stomach and she felt like she was going to fall over. "Right now, shut up and do not go down that road." 

"Emma, it's making you feel attached," Regina said gently. "And if I'm agreeing with him, you know I - "

"I mean it, not another word. I'm keeping my baby, that's it. End all, be all. Say another word and I will curse your tomatoes," She pointed at David, then rounded on Regina. "And hex your wardrobe with bleach stains that don't come out. Try me."

"Fine!" Regina threw up her hands while David grunted. 

The kitchen went silent, the tension palpable. 

"We got you a really nice layette," Snow offered, trying to clear the awkwardness while smiling. "Come open gifts, and look at all this cuteness. "

Emma begrudgingly moved forward, her eyes widening at the mountain of gifts in front of her. 

"Don't worry," Anna whispered as she pulled Emma down to sit. "I'm writing your thank you cards for you."

The crowd thinned after gifts, the night trickling on as the house emptied. If Emma had felt drained before, now she felt completely devoid of energy. The small crowd that's left hadn't bothered her, so when Snow and Regina asked her to do another walk about with them, it seemed safe enough. 

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, his head nodding, laughing at something in his self absorbed sly little chuckle that makes her want to break his nose. She must have tensed because Snow was beside her and sucking in breath harshly through her teeth, the coven turning as if they could all feel the disturbance. 

( Maybe they can, maybe the unbridled audacity of this man being here with another woman as he laughs with a martini glass in his hand is enough to share one collective experience of hatred. His eyes meet hers and he gives her a smirk that screams pity and humor at her expense as he lifts his glass toward her, mouthing congrats ) 

A figure cut in front of her, and her rage that feels like a sickening punch in the gut is coupled by this smack in the face - Neal's father grinned at her, his cane on the ground while both hands rest on its handle.

"My my my, Miss Swan," Gold smirked the same smirk that she wants to rip off his face. "When we heard, we were so surprised to not receive an invitation to this… quaint event of yours. Truly poor manners when our covens are no longer supposed to be at odds."

Regina and Elsa were there in front of her in a flash, Snow pulling her away, words being exchanged in hissed tones. Emma could barely hear over her heartbeat, over the sound of her stomach screaming at her to vomit. 

"You can protect her all you want, but we know what she did. We know what it will be," Gold's voice slithered over her skin even in the bathroom. "You can't redeem her, and she will be the reason for all of your downfall. Enjoy your council while it lasts."

David shooed everyone out when Emma hastily retreated, the entirety of her patchwork family pushing inside to comfort her. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

After the disaster of her shower, Emma began to feel the strange feeling of being watched even more. It became especially noticeable at night when she rocked in the nursery, sorting out piles of gifts. It felt like a presence sat beside her or hovered over her shoulder, and it began to follow her into her dreams. 

They didn’t last after she woke, glimpses of a mirror, of the sound of pounding, a muffled voice that she can't make out. 

The tip of the weird iceberg happened when Emma had gotten out of the shower, the steam in the room rising to fog the mirror. Dressing in pj's and heading back in to blow dry her hair, she had been dancing along to some new pop song by the Wolves of London, when her eyes caught the words.

On the fog of the mirror, her name had appeared backwards, joined shortly by the word 'Help' in a curling script that she blinked at in confusion before they disappeared. 

( A baby, a Witch, and a Ghost. Just what she needs in the never ending chaos that has become her life ) 

Luckily, the Coven can save her ass again. 

Regina glared at Emma, her judging silence lay heavily over the room. She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching into further scorn, before asking again. 

"You want me to do what?" 

"Look, I know it's not your favorite thing to do, but you can and I don't have the gift or a guide like you do -" 

"That doesn't make it any easier!" Regina threw up her hands, then gestured to her pantsuit clad form. "It's my body, and my mother is just -" 

"I am begging you, Reg. Begging. You." Emma moaned, irritated. "The father is a complete mystery, there's a ghost in my house that I think has to do with him, and I'm scared it could be someone like…" Trailing off, she chewed her lip. 

Liam's increasing push for her to choose adoption had thrown her off her game these last few weeks, his phone calls almost non stop. In a way, he was right. She wasn't the only parent, and she certainly wasn't ready to be a mom. She was no one, absolutely nothing. It wasn't as if she could raise a baby. 

(Even if she wanted to, and the idea of her baby, her family enveloped in the family she chose and created, it made her feel nothing but happiness) 

Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. "Fine. Fine!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "I do this for you, and you owe me. I expect you to be at my whim for this."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I'm not doing it for long." She shuddered. "Every time I check out and she checks in, I feel so just -" She shuddered again, making a gagging noise. 

(Regina had done it before for David and her, to say goodbye to Ruth. It had hurt, hurt so badly, but not as much as Cora cutting the reunion short to tell her daughter to do more cardio.)

"I promise, we find his grandma or cousin or somebody, maybe whoever wrote that on my mirror, get the lead, and we're done." Emma nodded. 

With another sigh, Regina laid her hands over the table, palms up, and Emma laid her own over them. A lavender spark shot from their joined hands to the air above them, Regina's head falling back while purple smoke began to pour around the table, permeating the air. Regina shook slightly, before violently snapping her head forward and blinking. 

"Emma Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure of being ripped from my study?" A higher, nasal, woman's voice spoke out from Regina's mouth. "My daughter feels chubbier, and her skin is just -" Regina touched her face, making clucks with her tongue. "Oh, she is a mess! Did she break it off with that awful Warlock? Ugh, is she stress eating? I try not to pry, but I know she ate at least one slice of chocolate cake when she was out this last week -" 

"Cora," Emma gritted out, closing her eyes in frustration. "Cora, Regina is fine. If she wants to discuss her love life with you, she'll call you up on the Ouija. I need your help to find someone, and I don't know the someone."

"Well, aren't you in a pickle."

"Please Cora, it's not just for me!" 

"Oh, you're not interested in Regina are you? Because you are much too low a class for her breeding -" 

"Oh Merlin, no, no!" 

"What is it then?" Cora sighed in a bored drawl. "I've told you I can't find your family if they don't want anything to do with you, I -" 

"No." Emma let her chest fall, speaking quietly. "No it's not that. I remember from last time and I have a family now." Emma took a deep breath, pushing back against the hurt in her chest. "I need to know… I need to know who the father is, and I'm having trouble. I need you to see if you can reach a relative, or friend, or someone who knows why his offspring is inside me, as well as what it is. I got a visit from a ghost, so here we are."

"Oooooh!" Cora squealed. "An enceinte pregnancy Miss Swan? An illegitimate baby? A haunting? How very risqué and daring on your salary!"

"Cora!"

"Fine, I'll check. I'll want the details of this though, so don't spare any of the juicy bits." Cora winked with Regina's face, before the woman's body went slack. After a minute, her head lifted back up, blinking slightly. "Well, Emma, what a doozy this is. This woman will not stop talking, and it's absolutely ridiculous how impossible she's being, even if she is ancient looking. Yes, I said ancient looking - well don't get mad at me, I tell it how it is - oh, I don't care who your son is, he can't be that grand if he's knocked up this wreck. Sorry Emma dear, I love you, but I mean," Cora shrugged, unabashedly. 

"Cora, ask her what her name is!" Emma hissed. 

"What's your name then? Oh, that's interesting. Not as good as Cora, or Regina -" 

"Cora!" 

"It's Milah. And she's not his mum, she's - oh he's an ex lover of yours? Juicy juicy! Sounds like Emma dear might be getting leftovers then? Oh don't be like that -" 

"I need a name Cora, this is so -" 

"I'm trying Emma dear, the woman won't shut up about her sweetheart. No - Really? The scandal, but - well that is so weird! Milah says that he's been hidden somewhere and no one is haunting you, but… Ugh! She's speaking so rapidly - yes, I get it, but if he wants the kid he would have come to get it, or - I am listening to you, you're not listening to me! A mirror? You should look at one, why do I have to tell her about a mirror? I mean Emma's at most average, and look at her figure now. A child will do that to you." Cora sighed, and Emma stiffened. Cora seemed to nod for a moment, before Regina's face soured further. 

"Don't get smart with me, you may be an old soul but you died far younger than I did!" Cora growled, her eyes slitting at some unseen target. She turned with her head cocked, looking at Emma with pity. "I'm sorry Emma, sweet little duckling, but this woman is a nightmare. She keeps screaming at me about how this Killian fellow is the father, but it's impossible for her to see him for whatever reason. Something about a mirror? She's also absolutely ancient, I haven't seen clothing like that outside of - Pre-Babylon? Is that the robe designer or…? Don't look at me like that miss bed sheet toga, I - Emma, this woman, I swear! It's just incessant chattering, really - "

"His name is Killian? Cora, wait, don't you -" 

"I understand that you were crazy in love with him, trust me, you seem crazy Milah dear. Yes, Killian is his name. A Demon of lust for vengeance. Wow, Emma, what a winner!" Cora snickered, and Emma resisted the urge to shriek. "Well, I don't care if the beast is misunderstood, he's a Demon. How touching, now please - oh come now, Gothel in the tower with the mirror? Red spire, Troll falls? What is this, Clue? Do I look like a detective?" Regina's eyes rolled, Emma desperately trying to remember the snippets that might make sense. Gothel, tower, mirror, red spire, troll falls. Killian. 

Cora grew louder, her voice rising in pitch. 

"Oh, how dare you! I'll have you know your cheap robes aren't exactly chic either; you need a wardrobe update, badly! You look like a ten cent frat party attendee!" Cora spat, and Regina's face pinched tight. "Excuse me? More important things, WELL , I never - Oh you rude little tart, I've had enough!" 

"Please Cora, no, I -" Emma attempted, but Cora flipped Regina's hair back, sniffing with haughty indignation. 

"It'll be alright Emma, duckling. It seems that your little orphan persona is perfect to parent this little babe! Shut up! No, I'm done with you, you crazy broad. Go back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and buy some new linens!" Cora hissed, her mouth curled in an ugly snarl. "Anyways, Emma, just accept that you can't ruin a child to be like you if you're giving them a home, even if their father is some failed Demon. Or something inspirational, I don't know." She shrugged, Regina's shoulders going up in a blasé dismissal. Her eyes snapped to look behind Emma, her face contorted in rage. 

"Cora. I am begging you - " Emma tried again, but Cora's focus was elsewhere, on someone unheard and unseen. 

"Shut it, shut up thread count Cleopatra!" Turning back to Emma, she smiled serenely. "Tell Regina to summon me later, I need to know how she is. And tell her no more sweets, especially if she ever wants to be a wife. Ta!"

Regina fell forwards, her body shuddering as the lights flickered, purple smoke dissipating into the air. She moaned lowly, cracking her shoulders and neck as she rolled backwards. 

"Dammit!" Emma exclaimed, sitting up and violently stalking to the fridge. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" 

"Ugh, I can taste her perfume. Bring me a beer please," Regina groaned. Emma pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge, giving the beer to Regina. "Emma, don't you ever say that I don't love you after that." Regina shuddered again, flicking her hand to open the beer and drinking down half of it in one go.

"I know you do. You just have… You're just abrasive with it. Like a big cat, or an alligator."

(Or a wood chipper wearing lipstick) 

"Shut up, and tell me how it went. Was it worth it? Mother never is, but -" 

"She, uh, well she got me some information to go on. So, that's something." Emma averted her gaze, licking her lips. 

"She talked about my weight, didn't she," Regina sighed. When Emma said nothing Regina drank the rest of the beer and walked to the kitchen, depositing it in the trash. Pulling out a wine glass, she reached under her cabinet and produced a bottle of wine. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Don't even start on me."

"I wasn't going to," Emma whispered. 

Laying her palms flat on the countertop and bowing her head, Regina looked up after a moment's pause. 

"So, what now?" She asked. 

Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. "I have his name, or at least I think I do. I think all that's left is to, well, summon him."

(Summon him, and say what? 'Hey, Mr. Demon, I'm having your kid and thought you might like to know', as if it would care, or want anything to do with her...) 

Regina's eyebrows shot up. "Not alone, surely -" 

"No. I would ask Snow, David, and maybe Mulan and Belle. I know Belle would be delighted, and she has the spellbooks."

"That actually sounds like a relatively good plan." Regina nodded, then took a sip of her wine. 

"Don't sound so shocked, Regina." Emma grumbled. 

"Miss Swan," Regina smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "If you ever cease to stop shocking me with your antics, I'll assume I have gone to meet my mother and maker."

[ferrethyun]

idk why i feel particularly bold rn but ive bonded with u after drooling + lowkey might come off nonny bc,,maybe you had a hunch,,im the og uwu nonny,,but anyways angst prompt time "this isn't what i wanted" + "let me live" with poly bts x depressed idol m/n (not a member, solo artist under the same company) just the two groups (?) arguing all the time but perfect in the public eye? I just have a whole angst profile for m/n in my mind so im projecting + might send in a pt 2 bc i love ur writing

uwu nonny,,, u truly are the best. also you dont have to come off anon if ur not comfortable uwuwu. Legit this, when i read this, big ouchies,, big ouchies. Also! I’ll try my best to give it an open ending for u to work with uwu

Pairing: Poly!Bts X M!Idol!Reader 

“And do you have any words for your fellow artist M/n-nim?” The presenter questioned, the words echoing through the speaker of M/n phone, “You seem to be close in all the footage whenever you’re together!” With those words M/n locked his phone and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He took a deep breath before letting it out, watching his breath in the cold night air; he was only supposed to be outside for a quick break before he headed back into the studio but a video from a recent show that featured all the members of Bts had caught his eye. M/n really wished it hadn’t.

With another sigh, he pushed off the wall and headed back into the building, nodding to the receptionist before he headed over to the elevator. Moments later the elevator arrived and he stepped in, pressing the button of the floor he needed to go to. He couldn’t help but question where his relationship with the members of Bts had gone wrong. He had only debuted six months before them and definitely wasn’t as successful as them that’s for sure. Sure they had their differences and all- The elevator door opened and in stepped Jimin, Yoongi and Taehyung. The air went cold.

“M/n-hyungnim” Yoongi said with a cool tone to his voice, the other two with him simply nodding their heads in greeting. M/n tried to shove himself even further into the corner he was stood in and couldn’t help but grimace when he saw Jimin go to push the button for their floor but not press anything. They were going to the same floor then.

The rest of the short elevator ride was dead. No one moved, spoke or made even the tiniest noise. After arriving at their floor, Jimin, Yoongi and Taehyung each stepped out and walked off, not even giving M/n a second glance. M/n let out a shaky sigh before heading off to the studio he was meant to be at 5 minutes prior.

The minutes crawled by at an agonisingly slow pace, he just couldn’t come up with anything. No words, no melodies, nothing. His head was empty, it had been for days now. Day and night seemed to meld into one and M/ns passion for his newest album he wanted to release soon was gone. 

Nothing mattered anymore and it made him just want to crawl into his bed and cry till he had no tears left. And that’s what he was going to do. M/n shoved his jacket back on and left the studio as quickly as he could, not bothering to look up or where he was going. He would soon regret this as he bumped into someone and fell straight back on to his rear end “I’m so-” He began

“-Hey! Look where you’re going…” A voice began before cutting itself off, “M/n-Hyungnim.”

M/n winced knowing exactly who the voice belonged too “Please don’t call me that Namjoon-ah” M/n almost begged, not looking up, “We both know you don’t see me as your hyung”

“Then what should we call you?” Hoseoks voice scoffed out

“Anything but that would do…” M/n trailed off. He could hear a few huffs come from some of the members before he finally decided to pick himself off the floor, “Listen I-”

“No-” Jin interrupted, “You should listen to us first. I don’t know what we did to make you hate us but-”

“I don’t hate you guys!” M/n yelled out, cutting off Jin, “Look, this isn’t what i wanted-”

“Then what did you want? Hmm?” Jungkook questioned, irritation evident in his tone.

“I- don’t” My chest feels tight

“Well what is it?!” No please

“Well?” Please.

“Just- Let me live!” M/n cried out, slamming his fist against the wall. Everything paused in that moment; almost as if time stopped. M/n couldn’t take it anymore, so he pushed past the members and fled down the stairs next to the elevator, not listening for the pleas behind him telling him to stop. 

He ran.

And ran.

And ran.

Then he stopped.

“Shit…”

[bleepblopbloop56]

for fanfic requests, i'm a sucker for tiny! virgil (in a g/t sense) or virgil angst of any kind...

im gonna focus on the "virgil angst of any kind" part of this ask because I don't know enough about that to write it and also ive been itching to post this story somewhere vampire au, blood, minor character death

\\\

12 days, 12 murders, the news reporters and mothers on facebook were losing their minds. But in one mansion, one on the outside of town that had been there for nearly hundreds of years, there were 3 men who weren't worried. well , at least not abot the things everyone else was worried about. 

“12.” roman said, pacing the livingroom back and forth, throwing the newspaper onto the coffee table, the headline “12th murder victim found- when will the violence end?!” was circled in red ink. “12 people found dead, and there will only be more. Logan how long can we let this go on?!” 

Patton wrung his hands nervously from his spot on the couch. He was just as nervous as roman, and yet logan was only frowning down at the ink on the morning paper he had yet to get his hands on. 

“It is not our place to intervene roman, we are not the local law enforcement, and we have no proof your hypothesis is correct. Figuratively speaking, we have no choice but to be ‘sitting ducks’ “ logan had a frown on his face that looked as if it was carved into his skin a thousand years ago. He reached forward and looked closer at the paper, romans ink covering it, circled lines and arrows dirtying the pages and seeping through to the other side. On the top corner roman had attached the headline from nearly 90 years ago. “17 dead” the headline screamed at him, mirroring the words on the paper from today.

“Look! The paper from when we found patton. they are EXACTLY the same! Logan. There another one of us out there” pattons face went flush as he looked away from the papers in logan's hand. 17 days alone and suffering with only one thought on his head. “Hungry” 

He always felt hot spikes of shame through his gut when he remembered those days.

“And the same thing when you found me. There's some kid out there who needs our help logan” roman pleaded Logan stayed classic. Half of logan's conversations happened through looks, not words. It was infuriating. 

“Maybe he's right lohan…. People are dying” patton mumbled, hands shaking as he pulled his mug up to his mouth. He didn't need to drink, not anymore, but it made him feel human, and eternity was too long to give up hot chocolate. Logan kneaded his temples like he was tired of dealing with them, the classic frown pulled over his face, one that meant roman and patton had won

“fine. “

Hungry. Need to eat need to drink. It hurts. Virgil pulled his hood up over his head and ducked between the streetlights and alleys, he was in the bad part of town but it didn't matter, he was the most dangerous thing in the shadows tonight. In a shop, an old woman was sweeping the floors, a couple was loudly having an argument with a window open, and in the alleyway, there was a man nearly twice virgil's size on his way home. 

Something in virgil lost all control. He was so hungry, in so much pain, and this man could take away that pain, and he didn't have a choice. Virgil pounced, taking the man down with hardly more than a shove, and before the man could make a sound, virgil's small fangs sunk into the man's neck. 

13. 

“Do you smell that?” roman asked patton, gripping the sleeve of his cat hoodie he had shoved on when the rain began. “Blood. Fresh human blood. Hes near” pattons face grimace. He was the youngest in the group, and despite being nearly 118, the smell of blood was sweet and nearly made him weak at the knees. Stay strong pat, he mumbled logans words to himself, the ones he had repeated countless times, your more than this.  Roman pulled him down to a street, texting logan where they were before laying around one last corner. The smell of blood was intoxicating. His hands were shaking with want a little voice in his head still spitting that desire had tried so hard to beat down. Logan had no hesitation when they caught up to them, walking straight into the alley before stopping. The boy was crying. 

“What the fuck did i do” virgil thought to himself, looking down at the body on the hard ground, his blood covered virgils face and clothes. He rocked himself back and forth. His ears throbbed, straining to hear anything that wasn't virgil's own heart racing. Maybe that wasn't what he was hearing, he was pretty sure his heart had stopped doing that nearly 2 weeks ago. 

He was a horrible person, this man was just trying to live his life, he probably worked in one of the nearby shops, maybe he had a family, virgil would never get to know. He was killed for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and it was all his fault. But the pain in his stomach had gone away, and he felt good. Full. 

Sobs wracked his body, and then there was a hand on his shoulder. 

 A frightened boy whipped his head around, shining bright red eyes into logans black ones. His face was dripping with blood, and tear tracks streamed down his face. A new one. He couldn't be older than 18. 

“Shit..” logan hissed, motioning for the others to come closer, “he's just a kid” he squatted down beside the boy, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping down his face. He was frozen stiff, terrified and shaking he let this stranger wipe down his face of the blood. 

"I'm sorry" he cried "I didn't.. I didnt mean to. I was just so hungry and he was right here and" sobbs racked through his body. Tears mixed with the blood in his face before both were cleaned off by Logan. 

"I know kid it's okay." He mumbled, trying his best to comfort the tiny murderer infornt of him "you're safe now, we got you"

“Who are you?” he asked quietly in between sobs. 2 weeks ago maybe the remark would have been said with a little more venom than genuine hope. Logan shoved the handkerchief into his pocket on his trench coat, straightening his posture and offering a hand to virgil to stand. 

“Logan. This is patton, and roman, and you are?” he quirked an eyebrow at the teen, staring down at him like he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.. 

“Virgil..” he said quietly “I'm sorry.. i .. “ his voice began to shake again, his shoulders hunching in on himself'' I didn't mean to hurt him… -” the man in the cat hoodie stepped forward cutting him off with a small shush

“I know honey. Listen things are gonna be okay, we got you.” he smiled wearily, pointedly keeping his eyes on virgil, and not the body beside him. 

“Patton, roman, you two get rid of the body, i'll take virgil home.” logan ordered, begging to push the kid away from the gruesome scene before catching patton and romans faces. Pattons knuckles were white, gripping onto romans arm with a scrunched up pained face. 

“I can't” he said smally “ I don't trust myself” 

Logan looked between them and shoved virgil forward “fine. Go get him cleaned up, ill take this myself” he hoisted the body onto his shoulder, it was significantly lighter without its blood, and leapt onto a building, before running off to dump the body in some woods or body of water. 

Romans arm wrapped around the boy, guiding him back to the mansion at the edge of the town.

The sun would be  up soon.  

13. There had been 13 murders in 13 days.

[romana73]

REYLO FANFIC: YIN AND YAN. PART 5

WRITER: Romana73 TIME: One year after Star Wars. Episode VIII. The Last Jedi THEME AND FANDOM: Star Wars RATING: Explicit TITLE: Yin and Yan CATEGORIES: M/F COUPLES: Kylo Ren / Ben Solo and Rey CHARACTERS: Rey, Kylo Ren / Ben Solo, Anakin Skywalker (nominated), BB - 8, Knights of Ren, Chewbacca, Darth Vader (nominated), Finn, General Hux, Han Solo (nominated), Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Poe Dameron, Rose Tico, boys from Canto Bright, Snoke (nominated), various Resistance and First Order fighters WARNINGS: Star Wars characters, world and stories AREN’T MINE AND DON’T BELONG TO ME, but they are created and owned by George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Disney, J.J. Abrams and Rian Johnson and the actors who play the Star Wars characters and their stories. I’M NOT IN ANY WAY LINKED TO THESE PEOPLE AND CINEMATOGRAPHIC HOUSES. I DON’T KNOW NO ONE OF THEM and I’M IN NO WAY IN CONTACT WITH THEM

WARNINGS 2: violence, also in terms of language. The starting idea of ​​this story derives from a leaks I read last year and which struck my imagination CHAPTER I can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189784450126/reylo-fanfiction-yin-e-yan CHAPTER II can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/189959876431/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-part-2 CHAPTER III can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/190301208881/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-3-part CHAPTER IV can be found HERE: https://romana73.tumblr.com/post/190662591396/reylo-fanfic-yin-and-yan-chapter-iv

CHAPTER V (PART I )

- Thanks ... nothing ... yes, I know. No ... don't bother me - Rey heard distant, muffled voices breaking through sleep blanket enveloped her, until one voice became stronger and more distinct than others, managing to shake her completely. Kylo Ren had ordered someone don’t disturb him. His voice and footsteps seemed terribly close. She snapped her eyes open, tensing herself like a violin string. Sweating cold and standing still, Rey tried to focus on situation. Praying he wouldn’t notice her awakening, simulating sleeping breathing, Rey narrowed her eyes, trying to understand what condition she was in. First thing she noticed were her wrists free of anti-Force handcuffs. Under soft, shiny sheets, her feet were bare. Her body was stretched out on a hard but comfortable mattress. Rey wasted no time wondering who could have arranged her in that way, her memory worked all too well. By time Kylo had picked her up, frustration in her from situation had grown, causing her to rant slowly against him. She didn’t want to make scenes and show, giving satisfaction to new Supreme Leader and his men. Nonetheless, Rey could barely contain growing irritation animated her. After insults, she had changed tactics, also trying to kick and make sudden and sudden movements with her body, but nothing had seemed to scratch Kylo’s calm, ​​who had limited himself to absorbing her blows and tantrums, continuing to walk undeterred and in hush. Glancing behind boy's shoulders, Rey was startled when she noticed dirt road stretching endlessly. Rebel base had disappeared and landscape had lost its well-known outlines. Rey had felt tears burn her eyes once more. Memory of desperate expressions of Finn, Poe, Milo and Cleena as she gave them one last look, before Kylo took her away from them, Leia’s eyes full of love and tenderness... that time she hadn't been able to restrain herself. Before she could notice, loud sobs had come out of her mouth , filling her ears. Tears ran freely over her face. Her head had given way, touching Kylo's wide chest, sinking her face, until crying turned into deep sleep. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kylo Ren had laid Rey on his bed, pulling her shoes off and throwing them on the ground. Angry, he had raised a hand, using Force to slide covers from under girl's body and place them on top of her, without touching her. Kylo had snorted, touching his torn shirt, still wet with tears. At a firm pace, he had reached his private bathroom, nervously taking off his clothes and throwing himself in shower, washing himself frantically, as if an acid was burning his skin, ending up hitting wall in front of him with a punch. Panting, Kylo had stood watching wall pieces fallen at his feet. If there had been no Rey and intruders who had followed them since they left Resistance base, Kylo would have vented, destroying something and, perhaps, blowing some heads of those fanatics in his service, but he had imposed himself not to lose brackets, at least for moment. He had a plan and goals and was determined to carry them out, going all way, at any cost. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -Vicrul, get ready. Let's go to Canto Bright. You have to hunt down some Force-sensitive kids. Scare them, exhaust them, but don't kill them. - Kylo had instructed succinctly three days earlier, entering quarters of one of his Knights. Blond man, with cold gray eyes and a square face, furrowed by various scars, had opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, merely nodding. It wasn’t up to him to investigate why their Leader had decided to show up in person, asking don’t to kill any more brats, while until recently he was wandering intolerantly for Finalizer, barely looking at them, ordering through Hux or sitting on throne to kill all Force-sensitive kids and anyone else who went against him. Ever since Jedi girl and Resistance escaped him, Kylo seemed to be swinging between being an efficient and cold God of Death and looking like a volcano ready to erupt. Vicrul had watched Kylo's tall and powerful figure on his back as he walked out of room. For sure, characteristic their leader wouldn’t have lost was gloomy. Vicrul shrugged and, reaching out, grabbed his shining vibrating scythe leaning against wall near his bed, started to fix it. Few vibrations of his weapon was enough to scared worst of monsters, let alone immature and inexperienced children...

Kylo had continued to walk down corridor, thowards Cardo's quarters, when he had met General Hux from opposite side. Pale, tall and thin, red hair combed back, small and pale eyes, he proceeded stiff, tight in his black military uniform, with puffy pants and high leather boots. While crossing Kylo, he stopped, snapping to attention and beating his boots heels together quickly. Kylo had folded his mouth in an annoyed grimace, irritated by sound of soldier's shoes. To tell the truth, he detested Hux and only man's dedication to cause made Kylo leave him alive. That feeling could come in handy. - Supreme Leader, excuse me for bothering you, sir - Hux had apostrophized Kylo, ​​holding one hand out to his temple and looking at an invisible distant point in front of him. Supreme Leader had stopped, turning only his head to look at his interlocutor, waiting for him to continue. -I heard you was ordering to head to Canto Bright planet ... - Hux had made a cautious debut. -Did you hear? Did you eavesdrop as usual, General Hux? - Kylo had cut short, frowning. Man’s embarrassed expression, mixed with irritation and anger he felt for what he considered pure insolence on part of young man amused Kylo, ​​although he didn’t let him shine through. -It wasn’t my intention, sir, I assure you... - Hux had swallowed strong desire to whip that attractive young face, despite oblique scar marked left side, starting from forehead and crossing cheek, neck and disappearing under shirt. Only power Kylo Ren had over him was sensitivity to what everyone called Force. If he had been a normal person, situation would have been very different and, perhaps, he would have considered boy just one of many ants to be subdued or killed with which universe seemed populated. Kylo kept his stoic expression, although he had sensed Hux's thoughts. Young Leader had felt itchy hands from desire to lift one his hand in Hux direction and strangle him using Force, without even touching him, as after Snoke’s killing, when General had tried to oppose his seizure of power and he had raised one hand towards him, bending thumb and forefinger as if he were really tightening his carotid artery. Hux's face had been tinged with a red similar to his hair and he had bulged his eyes, gasping and holding his hands to his throat in search of air. Kylo had released his grip suddenly and General had returned to breathe, following him in silence, like an angry dog, but too hungry to abandon master from whom he received brutal kicks, but also a decent and safe meal. Kylo had shrugged, giving up on suffocating Hux and had approached him, arranging stiff collar of his uniform with his hands. For second time in ten minutes, Hux had swallowed empty, looking straight in front of him, avoiding direct contact with Kylo Ren's dark brown eyes, at that moment animated by a sinister and amused light. -We will go to Canto Bright for a mission, let's say...crucial - Kylo had sighed, anticipating officer's questions. - Whatever happens, what you have to do, is send a handful of Stormtroopers to scare and confuse and, in my absence, follow Cardo and Vicrul's instructions - Kylo was done, leaving collar of Hux's jacket and peering at him, face with stern eyes. -Yes, but ... in Canto Bright there is a handful of children sensitive to Force and if Resistance came to save them? - Hux had insisted attentively. "I hope so," Kylo thought to himself. He had shrugged. -I don't see problem. I'll take care of it - he replied, walking away abruptly. Hux had remained motionless, moving only when Kylo Ren was at a safe distance. Soldier had cast a murderous look in boy's direction, gritting his small white teeth. Being unnatural, that's what Jedi, Sith and other Force-sensitive people were to him. They believed themselves superior to others, awarded with who knows what mission only because they possessed special faculties. He had always wondered what such individuals would do if they lost their precious skills. He doubted they would be able to combine something good and useful. Kylo Ren was one of worst specimens in that category. Not only he have great sensitivity to Force, but he was a direct descendant of one of the most important families, whose members had always enjoyed playing chess with life and destiny of galaxy, indelibly marking its history, but this seemed not enough for young man. Kylo had considered himself a victim of who knows what wrongs and stepped on his feet, until he became Snoke's pupil, stealing his power and bending entire First Order to his personal purposes. No. True superior being was common people like him who, without need of strange powers, were able to conquer, build and destroy. Normal people were natural, those with strength weren’t. Not for him, at least. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Vicrul had only needed to appear in stables under Canto Bright Casino, face covered with his shiny helmet of mineral pastillion and long black coat of monstrous reptile skin, vibrating his shiny silver scythe a couple of times to make Force - sensitive children run away on all sides. Stormtrooper had invaded Casino itself, causing panic and confusion, so no one would notice boys'escape. Kylo had observed scene in a serious and shady way, flanked by a displeased and upright Hux who didn’t understand meaning of all that and seemed to tremble with the desire to intervene in first person. A smile shadow had appeared and immediately disappeared on Kylo's face when he felt Rey and Resistance arrival. He had extended his senses, letting her feel his presence, guiding her to where he was. Kylo had watched Rey use Force to throw Vicrul busy chasing a girl, then he intervened before she threw herself on his Knight. - Stay here, General - he had ordered Hux amused, before reaching Rey and starting to duel with her. Vicrul had taken opportunity to reach Hux on Finalizer, where he had exchanged a nod of agreement with Cardo who had immediately got off ship using a secondary exit. Cardo had hidden in forest beside battlefield, where he had remained silent and motionless, waiting. Kylo was blocking Rey's blows, when his head had been invaded by pain. He had breathed deeply, extinguishing lightsaber, planting his feet on the ground and stiffening his legs, in an attempt not to fall, but pain had been stronger. Taking his head in his hands, Kylo Ren had flown to ground, rolling in excruciating pangs, gritting his teeth. With narrowed eyes, Kylo had seen Rey stirring on ground, in equal condition. Kylo had tried to control, if not overcome, pain just enough to look around, until his fatigued gaze settled on an intense white glow. Supreme Leader had stretched out an arm in an attempt to use Force against annoying light, when a cold ring had closed around his wrist with a dull click, suddenly blocking his faculties. Kylo had folded his arm and, with a tug, had thrown his assailant away. He was fumbling with the cuff around his wrist when one foot had planted himself in center of his back, locking him on the ground. Kylo had folded her lips in a sarcastic smile...he could have blown them, but it wasn't his intention. Kylo had moved as if to shake off his limb when other rebels had landed on him. Someone had kicked him, others had hit him with blaster’s handle. One person out of all had pulled his arms firmly behind his back, finishing locking his wrists in anti-Force handcuffs. Kylo had spied out of corner of his eye to find out who had handcuffed him. Poe Dameron. Quite right. He had captured and tortured pilot, now Poe was returning favor. His smile had gone wild. Apparently, Resistance had lost some hesitation, taking hasty and less elegant methods, at least with him. Wandering around, sensing his darkening gaze and hearing a soft growl coming out of his closed lips, Kylo had had time to see FN-2187, who was carrying Rey suffering in his arms, away from him, when a kind of shiny, black and technological eye mask had descended on him, obscuring his sight. -Really?- He had grinned provocatively as they dragged him away. - Do you think I don't know where you're taking me? I know all your bases and tricks ... ouch! - A strong blame in abdomen had cut his breath in his throat. Kylo had coughed, without ceasing to smile. -Where did you get it? - Kylo had heard Rey's faint voice asking in vain. "Rey!" He had tried to call her telepathically with her, but she had already passed out.

[dr-m-r-ma]

Our Secret

Part IV: Traces of You

Genre: drama, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X

Summary & Disclaimer here

Just barely a whisper, she asked, “왜 믿어야되는데?” (Translation: “Why should I trust you?”) 

“내가… 기사들을 회사측에서 못 막고 진실을 말 할 힘이 없었어. 회사가--” (Translation: “I… couldn’t stop the company from releasing the articles and I didn’t have any power to tell the truth. My company --”) Jooheon explained.

The way he babbled about the past and reverted to the similar casual way of talking annoyed Soo-ah, so she cut him off. “괜찮아요. 얼마나 무서웠겠어요, 제가 그렇게 사람들한테 찢어버리는걸 보고. 그렇죠?” (Translation: “It’s okay. You must have been scared, seeing me get ripped apart by people, right?”)

Stunned by her words, Jooheon sat frozen in his seat. Soo-ah watched his face morph into shame, and she could tell he was reliving those moments. His company had told him that he’d be the one facing the heat and hate if he told the public the truth -- that all his fans would walk away from him.

Scoffing at his expression, Soo-ah muttered, “내가 미쳤지, 그 쪽이 다를거라고 생각한 내가 너무 한심하네.” (Translation: “I must have been crazy. I was pathetic to think you’d be any different.”)

“나를 믿을수 있어?” (Translation: “Can you trust me?”) He asked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

She stood up abruptly, startling the large Wonho at her side, and called Woohyun on her phone while watching Jooheon staring down at his drink. “Hey, 네 남친 ��키는것도 이게 지쳤으니까, 그렇게 싫으면 네가 와 -- 난 갈거니까.” (Translation: “I’m tired of babysitting your boyfriend now, so if you don’t like it you come -- I’m leaving.”) As she climbed out of the bench and started to walk away, she heard Moo-hyuk apologize to the group and excuse himself for a bit.

Soo-ah grasped his hand that hovered around her face. Looking straight at him, she whispered, “눈을 보면… 눈이 말해주는것 같아 -- 내가 다칠수 있다고.” (Translation: “When I look at your eyes… your eyes tell me I could get hurt.”)

Little did the two know that Jooheon had followed them to a hidden corner inside the bar. He couldn’t see them, but while Moo-hyuk and Soo-ah stood outside, Jooheon could hear them from inside, through a window that was slightly opened.

“-- 모르는 척 할수도 있었잖아. 왜 그랬어?” (Translation: “-- You could have pretended to not know what he was talking about. Why’d you act like that?”)

Soo-ah looked away from him. Her eyes staring at the busy streets, she sighed. The world was  moving on but she just couldn’t.

“그냥… 짜증나서. 아직 못 잊었단게 화나서. 아직도 사람들이 나에 대해 무슨 생각 하는지 무서워하는게 너무 겁쟁이 같고 사람들이 진실을 모른다는게 너무 괴롭고... 2년만에 대충 대충한 사과를 받아서 억울해. 그냥 모든게 싫어.” (Translation: “I’m just… frustrated. I’m angry because I haven’t forgotten yet. I feel like a wimp for still worrying about what people think about me, and it’s so painful that people don’t know the truth… and just angry that I received a half-assed apology in 2 years. I just hate everything.”) Her voice shook, and she could feel the tears well up in her eyes. The years she spent outside of Korea were numbing, but it only took a couple of hours of that day to crumble her facade.

Hearing her sniffle, Jooheon balled his hands into tight fists as he grimaced at her words.

With a soft, low voice, he matched her whisper, “다치게하지 않을거야. 내가 약속할게.” (Translation: “I won’t let you get hurt. I promise you.”)

Moo-hyuk pulled her into a warm hug. His hands stroking the back of her head, he laid his chin on the crown of hers. “현이가 압박해서 온거 미���해… 너한테 오늘 밤이 엉망진창 됐단 걸 알고 이렇게 나 때문에 반 낮을 낭비했으니까 너 갈때까지 휴가 내고 같이 놀아줄게.” (Translation: “Sorry you came because Hyun pressured you… I know tonight has been all sorts of messed up for you and since I know you wasted half a day because of me, I’ll take some time off and hang out with you until you leave.”)

Melting into his arms, she cracked a small smile against his jacket. “현이가 나 가만 안 둘 걸?” (Translation: “Don’t you think Hyun’s going to kill me [if you do that]?”) She could feel his smile forming through the muscles on his face.

“괜찮아 -- 직장에서만 내 보스지, 집에서는 내가 보스야! 그리고 이 난리친 현이를 하루동안 부려먹을수있는 기회를 줄게.” (Translation: “It’s okay -- he’s my boss only at work; I’m the boss at home! Also, for causing this chaos, I’ll give you a chance to work him like a slave for a whole day.”)

Soo-ah chuckled at that, before whispering, “그래… 지금은 그냥 갈래. 모든걸 기억했다는게 너무 싫고 난… 나는 이제 쟤를 보기 싫어.” (Translation: “Sure… I just want to go now. I hate that I’ve remembered everything and I… I don’t want to see him anymore.”)

She leaned into his hand, as he cupped her cheek gently. “후회하면 어떡해?” (Translation: “What if [we] regret this?”)

The two stood outside the bar, still embracing and finding comfort in one another. Moo-hyuk patted Soo-ah’s back and said, “버스장까지 바래다줄게.” (Translation: “I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”)

“제가 할게요.” (Translation: “I’ll take her.”)

Immediately, Soo-ah froze. Why was he outside? Her body went cold and rigid, but she wanted to make it clear. Holding tightly onto her friend’s jacket, she shook her head. Moo-hyuk took the signal and held onto her tighter as well. He growled, “안 될것같은데요.” (Translation: “I don’t think so.”)

Jooheon saw her rejection, but he still pleaded, “제발… 그렇게 해줄수있게 해주세요.” (Translation: “Please… let me.”)

Why was he being persistent? Moo-hyuk asked, “왜 그래야하는데요?” (Translation: “Why should I?”)

“...”

His silence gave partial relief to Soo-ah, as she hoped it meant he would give up. She didn’t want to hear any excuses or apologies about something she was trying to forget about, and his very existence near her bothered her. Oh, but how wrong she was.

“...수아씨, 나 믿어요?” (Translation: “....Soo-ah, do you trust me?”)

Fingers colder than ever, she froze once again.

Jooheon pressed again, “나 믿을수 있어? 다치지 않게 할게. 약속해.” (Translation: “Can you trust me? I won’t let you get hurt. I promise.”)

Her hands loosened their grip on Moo-hyuk, but she stayed still. Was it a coincidence that his speech went from formal polite to casual? What exactly did she want to hear? What was she hoping for?

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jooheon whispered, “안 그럴거야. 우리 사이는 깨질수 없는 사이니까.” (Translation: “I won’t. The connection between us will never be broken.”)

She felt her friend’s hands loosen, and when Moo-hyuk pulled away from Soo-ah, she looked up with questioning eyes. As her eyes stared into her friend’s, she could tell both of them knew. Moo-hyuk fixed her hair and wiped away her tears. With a gentle voice, he asked, “비밀이 들통났네…. 어떡할래? 그래도 나랑 버스장까지 가고싶으면 그렇게 하고, 아니면 현이한테 부탁해서 너 데리러 오라고 할수있어. 그것도 아니면… 나만 다시 안으로 들어갈수 있어.” (Translation: “Looks like your secret is out… what do you want to do? If you still want to walk to the bus stop with me, that’s fine. Otherwise, I can ask Hyun to come pick you up. Or… I can just go back in.”)

They looked at each other for a split second, before Soo-ah forced a grim smile. A sniffle or two here and there, and she patted his shoulder and walked away.

Jooheon watched Soo-ah turn away and walk in the other direction in confusion. He heard the gravel rub against the sidewalks, causing him to look back at her friend. He was on his way back into the bar, but when he suddenly turned around, Jooheon flinched. Her friend had fury written all over his face, which wasn’t apparent before.

“또 한번 지랄하다가 내 친구 울리면 넌 그때 죽는다.” (Translation: “If you fuck around and make my friend cry one more time, you’re dead to me.”) Moo-hyuk snarled, “현이도 가만 안 둘 걸? 요번엔 현이 안 말릴거니까, 잘 해라.” (Translation: “Bet you Hyun’s not going to stay quiet. This time, I’m not stopping him, so do it well.”)

And with that, he walked back in, leaving Jooheon slightly miffed about Moo-hyuk’s close relationship to Soo-ah, but mostly scared that Soo-ah had two formidable guards. What did it take for them to stay quiet two years ago? He knew what happened before was mostly his fault. With Moo-hyuk’s words in mind, he looked back to the direction Soo-ah walked and started to shuffle towards the same direction.

.

.

*** TBC ***

A/N: short chapter! next chapter is the last, but it won’t be coming out until maybe last week of October bc I’m going on a trip!! Next chapter: Part V: The Connect 

[aphroditestummyrolls]

When the Falcon landed in the field outside his house, Kes had been living on the fumes of hope. He counted down every day of every week, waiting for a comm request, a holo-message, any proof of life from Poe. Shara’s tree swayed at the edge of the garden every day, and he chose to see it as a sign—she was keeping their boy safe, he was fine. Surely, if Poe… If something had happened to Poe, The Force Tree – the one he’d grown up watering, playing under, where they’d buried his mother – would’ve done something. 

It was more than he could handle when the Falcon—not Black One -- landed at the edge of his land and Poe didn’t come bounding out. 

Luke hadn’t been the person he expected—everyone with half a head and wasn’t living under a rock knew that Luke hadn’t been around in years. But, no one on that blasted old freighter was his son, and Kes couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think beyond the distinct, terrible memory of the last time Luke Skywalker had come to this house with news of Kes’s family. 

“Hello, Kes – I’m sorry it’s been so long.” 

“S-Skywalker,” he ground out, not wanting to know – he’d rather take no news as good news than hear if… “I’ll kill you right here if you’ve come by to deliver me another body.” 

If he’d been in better control of himself, he would’ve been surprised at the vitriol he still felt, so long after he thought he’d forgiven Luke for his part in Shara’s death. But, if this was true, he wouldn’t have a shred of good faith left for the man.

Luke’s hands were up in some cautious show of surrender, when a young voice broke into Kes’s worst fears like sun through a monsoon cloud. 

“Kes Dameron? Are you Poe’s dad?” a slip of a girl came walking down the gangway, casual, a smile on her face. 

“Have you heard from him?” Kes didn’t try to hide his desperation. They were well past that point. 

She looked taken aback, gaping for a moment before sputtering out “I mean, I – yes. I comm’d into base just a few weeks back, he’s been watching out for Finn. He fired the last shots into Starkiller Base! He’s a hero.” 

The relief was unlike anything he’d felt since the Death Star and the Empire fell. It swept over him like a wave, the Force Tree continuing to sway in a silent I told you so, but Kes just gripped the fence to his garden and let out a strangled noise. He let himself finally breathe, a few tears sticking to his lashes. 

“I take it you haven’t heard from Poe.” Luke surmised uselessly. 

“Nearly 2 months of radio silence.” Kes rasped, clearing his throat and finally greeting his guests with a weary smile “It’s good to see you, old friend. I’m sorry about… I’ve been pretty high strung. C’mon in, then – your little friend clearly has a story about my boy, and I was just about to crack open a bottle of Alderaanian wine.” 

The decision to take the position they were offering wasn’t particularly difficult, if only to get a good look at his son for himself – maybe give him a strong smack upside the head for scaring his old man like that. 

Poe was a hero of The Resistance. He’d taken down something that seemed unbeatable. Kes drank more than he meant to, relief, joy, and pride leaving him nearly floating, looking out the window at Shara’s tree and knowing she was proud, too. 

So, they stayed a week. Young Rey got to train with Luke, meditate under one of the only Force Trees in existence. Kes learned about Han, and that nasty business with his and Leia’s son. He showed Rey Shara’s old A Wing, and Poe’s many scrapped speeders in the barn. She was sweet. 

He’d always said that if he and Shara had had more time, they’d have had a daughter. They’d have had to expand their house they’d have had so many kids. 

Rey was very sweet. 

Boarding The Falcon and leaving his home after so long made him feel old. His first thought had been But who’ll tend the garden? And he just had to laugh. Shara would’ve called him an old homebody and told him to get off his ass. 

The galaxy needed him – and so did their boy. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The last blaster shots into the core of Starkiller mingled with his screams, with Yavinic songs, and his dad’s warm voice -- a Force-like pressure squeezed his muscles tight until he felt he might explode, a cry turning into a whimper as he bolted up in bed. His head pounded, the last tendrils of the dream pulsing through his skull behind his eyes. 

BB-8 charged in the corner, the soft blinking light of his sleep mode helping to level out Poe’s desperate breathing. 

He had gotten Starkiller—they had won. They had won. 

But he still felt like he’d failed. Ren had gotten through, leaving the mark of his probe on every fiber of Poe’s being, every memory in his head. 

Poe fumbled his way out of the tangle of sweaty sheets, slipping into his trousers and pulling a shirt over his head with trembling hands. His heart continued its mad hammering in his chest, just like it did every morning. If he managed to sleep at all, that is. 

The mess hall was blissfully empty as he padded through the midnight quiet of Headquarters, just like it was every night. 

Poe’s nights always seemed to go the same way, with little variations here and there. He’d wake up, try not to throw up (he didn’t always succeed), stop by the mess hall for his first cup of caf, and find something to keep him busy. 

He had repainted Black One four times in the two weeks since Starkiller. He had rebuilt her engine even more. He had spent late nights and early mornings recording Holo-messages, notifying the families of his dead pilots. 

One of the only things that stayed the same, though, was walking through the sterile white halls of the medbay to Finn’s room. He always looked so peaceful. He was always sleeping with a heavy, dreamless calm that made Poe feel like his life wasn’t completely falling apart— at least Finn’s vitals were strong. 

That night was no different. The caf was going cold in his hand, but Poe was busy watching his friend’s chest gently rising and falling with the ventilator, listening to that strong, steady heartbeat through the monitor. 

“Poe Dameron, why am I not surprised?” A familiar voice sighed from the doorway. He made a conscious effort not to jump in surprise—he should’ve seen this coming, after all. 

“Hey Doc.” He flashed her a half a grimace—soft and a little pleading, he didn’t have the energy for anything else—before looking down into his caf. He knew what she was going to say, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He knew he looked like Bantha shit, he didn’t need anyone else to tell him that. 

“You look like Bantha shit.”

Nice, he thought “Still the best-looking guy in the Resistance—how’s Finn doing?” 

She huffed a breath that might have been a laugh in a previous life where she had a sense of humor. “He’s the same as he was when you asked me last night— the spinal damage is nearly healed. He’ll be stiff and weak when he wakes up, but a few weeks of intensive physical therapy should have him back on his feet. I’ve never seen someone take to the bacta so well. Your friend’s lucky.”

He nodded. The unchanged, optimistic words set something at ease in his tightly knotted gut. Finn’s chest rose and fell, his short black lashes curling away from the start of his soft, dark cheek. Poe missed his full lips and his blinding smile. People talked a big talk about Poe’s smile, but he had nothing on Finn. 

“—Commander, are you listening to me?”

“Huh?” he pulled his gritty, tired gaze from his friend to look back at the doctor’s unamused face. 

Her lips were pursed, and her eyebrow was raised. She almost looked like his mom used to, and while that used to be something that would make Poe smile, a spike of shame punched into him instead. The feeling only got worse when her expression softened. She was worried about him—just like Snap, and Jess, and even The General--

“I asked if you were feeling alright. Poe, are you sleeping at all?”

He paused, swallowed, and tried to hide it all in feigned nonchalance “Yeah, Doc—I’m fine.” 

“Yeah?” she was, if possible, even less amused than before “You’re here every night—at first, I thought you were on some sort of night shift, but The General said you’re on leave to recuperate after Starkiller. Usually, people go home.”

“There’s too much to do around here—”

“How’s Kes?”

He tried to hide the flinch at his dad’s name, but his level of success was written all over the doctor’s face. He’d failed again. 

The phantom pains of Ren’s presence in his mind curled through his blood like smoke. He couldn’t even picture Kes’s face without the urge to cry. 

“He’s alright. He fought in the first rebellion; he knows where I’m needed.”

There was a long pause, and Poe was just waiting for her to call his bluff—he hadn’t comm’d in to Yavin IV since before Jakku. Dad was probably worried sick, Poe never used to go longer than a week without contact. 

It had been nearly 2 months. 

Dr. Kalonia sighed “Have a good night, Poe. Don’t forget to get some sleep—can’t have a pilot who can’t steer straight.”

From Love Will Help You Heal on AO3

[captaindeanwinchesterforever]

Don’t Leave Me pt. 2

I just want to thank all of you who like to read my writing. I appreciate all the support! I hope y'all like this one. Love you guys!

Pairing: None at the moment *wink wink*

Warnings: some angst, some fluff, and a little bit of cussing

Summary: You are left having to deal with the aftermath of Gabriel’s death, but thank goodness you have a knight in shining armor.

Word count: 2,180

        I pulled into the garage of the bunker and parked my truck beside the Impala. I shut the engine off and sat there a few seconds to collect my thoughts. I got out of my truck and started to open the door to the bunker when I heard laughing and celebrating. It sounded like a fucking party. I was aggravated, but I knew that these people we brought back to this world didn’t kill Gabriel, so I didn’t need to take my anger out on them. I opened the door to see everyone having a great time. There was beer and food, people laughing and smiling at the victory they just had. I couldn’t be a part of the celebration, so I kept my head down and headed straight to my room. I hoped that Dean and Sam wouldn’t notice I was back. As long as I could stay out of their sight, I would be okay.

           “(Y/N)! Wait, please.” I forgot about the angel… I just kept walking, but Cas caught up with me and grabbed my wrist to stop me.

           “Cas, please let go of me.” I didn’t mean to snap at him, but I just couldn’t be in that room anymore.

           “I know you are hurting right now. I just want you to know that I am here for you. I’m sor…” I cut him off.

           “Don’t say it. I don’t need that right now.” I turned and glared at him with anger. My expression went from furious to sorrowful in less than a second.

           “I’m sorry, Cas. I know you’re only trying to help me and be a good friend. I really appreciate you being here for me, but I don’t need anyone’s pity. Just know that I love you and you are one of the most important people in my life. I just need some space right now. I’ll be okay.” I smiled and leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek. I turned around and made a beeline to my room.

           I walked in and slammed the door behind me. I leaned back against it and slid down to the floor. Tears began to flow from my eyes. I had to put on a good face for the boys, but when I was behind closed doors, I could let everything out.

Sam’s POV

            I looked up when I heard the door open to the bunker. It was (Y/N). She was trying to make her way past everyone, and I assumed that she was making her way to her room. All I wanted to do is comfort her, but I knew how she was, and she wasn’t going to let any weakness show. I heard Cas yell out to her and grab her wrist. I grimaced a little thinking that Cas was about to get decked in the face, but to my surprise she didn’t do anything. I could hear a little bit of their conversation. I heard Cas try to tell her he was sorry, but she cut him off and the look she gave him was terrifying. If looks could kill that one definitely would have. Then I saw (Y/N)’s facial expression change. She regretted what she said to Cas and she said something that I couldn’t hear. She leaned up to Cas’ cheek and gave him a kiss. Then off she went to the only safe place she thought she had left.

           “Cas was real brave grabbing her arm like that.” I looked over and saw Dean standing beside me.

           “Yeah, real brave… I don’t know what to do for her, Dean. I know she wants to be alone, but I can’t just sit here and let her go through this alone. Hell, we both know how it feels to lose someone like that.” I was aggravated with everything going on, but especially that (Y/N) had to lose someone she loved. If I was being completely honest, I was pissed at Gabriel for putting her through this again.

           “I don’t know, Sammy. That’s a bit risky. Don’t get me wrong, I love (Y/N) just as much as the rest of us do but she’s different. She doesn’t like to show weakness. Hell Sam, that was the first time I had ever seen her cry. We’ve all tried to comfort her at some point, and you were able to for a little bit, but we both know that the only one that could calm her down is gone. If you feel like you need to help her then you should do it, but if you do you may not like the answer you get.” Dean has always cautioned me about (Y/N) and how she was, but it’s never scared me away. I know she isn’t like other women and I think that’s why I am drawn to her. I have always had feelings for (Y/N), but she loved Gabriel and I couldn’t live with myself if I ruined that.

           I couldn’t stand there anymore, I had to go help her. I took off through the war room and down the hall way towards (Y/N)’s bedroom. Once I reached her room, I stood there for a second. I could hear something coming from the other side of the door. I put my ear up to it and listened. It was her crying. She was trying to hold her sobs back, but she was failing.

           I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “(Y/N), it’s Sam. I just wanted to come and check on you. Can I please come in?”

(Y/N)’s POV

I was sitting on the floor sobbing when I heard a knock on my door. It startled me a little bit. I should’ve known that someone would come and find me.

           “(Y/N), it’s Sam. I just wanted to come and check on you. Can I please come in?” Of course, it was Sam. I thought I had slipped past him without him seeing me. I got up off the floor and wiped my eyes. I took a few deep breaths and opened the door.

           “Sam, I’m fine. I just want to be alone right now. I don’t want anyone around me right now. I think its best that you leave.” I felt awful being this hateful towards Sam, but he doesn’t need to see me like this. He definitely didn’t need to waste his time on me. I just wanted him to go celebrate and be happy. I went to close the door in his face, but he stopped it with his hand.

           “(Y/N), I just wanted to come and see how you were doing. You were gone for a while and I was worried. I didn’t know where you had gone.” He was so sincere, but I needed him to leave. I wasn’t worth his time or effort. I wasn’t worth fixing.

           “I appreciate that, but I’m good.” I had an agitated tone in my voice. Even with the hateful tone, he was patient.

           “We could just hang out like we used to. It was fun watching movies and talking to you. We used to talk about anything and everything. I just want to help you.” He was trying so hard to help me. I remember how much fun we used to have after I lost Gabriel the first time. Sam was always there. Through my good days and my dark days. I depended on him a little more than I would’ve liked to admit. My feelings for him started to change and I pushed them down. He wouldn’t want this hot mess. He was just being nice, and Sam deserved a whole hell of a lot better than me. As soon as these feelings started, they disappeared, because that’s when Gabriel came back into my life.

           “I don’t need you to save me again, Sam. I definitely don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine.” I sounded like a real bitch. If I didn’t feel bad before, I definitely feel bad now. I could see the annoyed look on his face.

           “(Y/N), listen. I get what you’re going through and I get you want to be alone, but I think being alone is the last thing you need to be right now. All I want to do is help you and all you do is push me away. I see straight through that act you put on for everyone else. I’m your friend (Y/N) and I care about you. So please just let me help you!” Sam had never raised his voice at me before. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. I tried to hold them back, but one fell down my cheek. I saw the regret on Sam’s face for what he did. He started to apologize, but I quickly wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his chest. He engulfed me in his arms and I finally felt safe again, just like before.

           “I’m sorry, Sam. Can you stay here with me for a little while?” I just wanted his company, nobody else’s just his. Sam shook his head yes and we walked into the room and closed the door behind us.

           Sam and I were laying on our backs staring up at the ceiling of my room. We were just kind of enjoying each other’s company, not really talking until I spoke up.

           “I’m sorry I was so mean to you earlier. I don’t know how to act or feel about what just happened. I want to believe that Gabriel is alive, but I have a gut feeling that he’s actually gone this time. I’m furious with him for doing this to me again, but most importantly I want to kill Michael. I want revenge Sam and I’ve never felt like this before. I’m overwhelmed with all the different thoughts going through my head. What’s even worse is that I have been such an awful friend to you, and you didn’t deserve any of it. Sam, you’re the only one I can be myself with and you have no idea how important that is to me. There are no words to describe how sorry I am to have put you through so much. I don’t deserve to have a friend like you.” I had rolled over on my side facing Sam while I said this. I really didn’t deserve him. The fact he still wanted to help me after I was such a bitch to him made me appreciate him even more. He rolled over to face me and looked at me for a second with his sad puppy dog eyes.

           “(Y/N), you don’t need to be sorry. I don’t blame you for what you said or how you acted. I would have done the same thing. I understand why our friendship changed when Gabriel came back. You loved each other and he had just stepped back into your life. I don’t blame you for wanting to spend all your time with him. You’re very special to me (Y/N) and I just don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone. I was there for you then and I am here for you know. I always will be. As for Michael, he isn’t coming back (Y/N). He is stuck in that other world with Lucifer. Where I hope they’ll rip each other apart.” He reached up and tucked some stray hairs behind my ear. I couldn’t help but smile. Sam made me feel safe and he took care of me.

           “Thank you, Sam.” I smiled at him and nuzzled myself up against his body. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. Right before I fell asleep, I heard him whisper something, but I couldn’t quite make out the words.

Sam’s POV

           (Y/N) snuggled herself up to me and I wrapped my arms around her. I missed this so much. I missed the smell of her hair, how warm her body was against mine, the conversations we used to have, but most importantly I missed her. I felt like I could fly. The smile on my face was never going to leave. (Y/N) deserved so much better than what her life has handed her. She was rough around the edges and often put up a wall to keep people out, but under all that she had the most beautiful soul. I had never had feelings like this for any other woman, she was everything to me.

           I could tell (Y/N) was starting to fall asleep, so I pulled her in closer. Her face was buried into the crook of my neck. Her breathing started to slow, and I could tell she had finally fallen asleep. I kissed the top of her head and whispered, “I promise to always take care of you and never leave you. I love you, (Y/N). I always have.”

           I could feel my eyes starting to get heavy. I didn’t want to leave her, so I rested my head on her pillow and drifted off to sleep.

[boymeetsweevil]

blue, not blanc - nsfw

Grouping: Reader x Jimin, SMUT wow

Word Count: ~4.5k 

Warnings: straight up sex, fingering, panty fetish perhaps? breathplay if you squint?? DEFINITELY NSFW

Based off the following prompt :) 

1.5 months before

Jimin was cooking dinner, like the good fiancé he was. You slid into a seat at the breakfast bar and sighed, hoping he would turn around to see what you needed. When he merely hummed in greeting you were forced to cut to the chase.

“I have a favor to ask you,” your sheepish tone finally made him to look up from the red sauce he had been painstakingly simmering, “I need you to be my date for the black and white investment dinner. I’m letting you know now so you can’t say you already made plans.”


“How do you know I don’t already have plans?”


“Jimin, please. Its a month and a half from now and we know you don’t plan that far ahead.”


“Maybe I should start.” He stuck his tongue out at you before turning back to his precious marinara.


“You can start by making sure you have a suit. And it has to be white.”

“Why does it have to be white? Isn’t that too...Las Vegas or something?”


“Its white because the firm chooses the color scheme. This year the investors wear black and the firm employees wear white. It’s an annual thing. Please.”


Jimin sighed, but didn’t argue further. You came as his date to all the horrible holiday parties they hosted every year at the newspaper. You even bought an ugly sweater the year he had been trying to suck up to his boss for a promotion. To this day he’s convinced that heinous wool article is what got him his current position of junior editor.

“What color should the tie be?” He walked over to your spot at the kitchen table, one hand cupped beneath the wooden spoon he held in the other. You leaned in to try it before flashing a thumbs up when it didn’t seem to be lacking any specific ingredient.


“The tie doesn’t have to be a specific color as long as it goes with your suit and my dress,” you froze mid sentence, “Shit. I need a dress.” You were quiet for a few beats as you watched him hunt around for the chili pepper flakes before calling his name sweetly. Too sweetly.


“What is it now?”


“I have such a bad migraine that if I so much as look at another screen tonight, I’ll cry. Do you think maybe you could possibly buy the dress for me after dinner? From that French store where you bought that scarf you got me?”


“Sure.”


“Great. I’ll send you the links. Oh, I need their no-show underwear too. It’s better than going commando, I swear,” you said cheerfully as you pulled out your phone.


“I thought your head was going to explode if you looked at another screen.”


“How else am I going to send you the links, Minnie?”


He raised an incredulous eyebrow and put a steaming plate in front of you.

“So, do I have to buy them tonight or can it wait a little. I’m waiting on a call from Taehyung about the parts for that vintage coffee maker I’ve been working on.”


“Well,” you chewed your noodles thoughtfully, “I guess as long as you don’t wait longer than 2 weeks. Everything always sells out of that shop really fast so you have to be quick about it, especially the underwear. I would buy it myself but my boss has been working me to the bone with reviewing these new manuscripts.”


“Leave it to me.”


24 days following

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he muttered to himself.

Jimin felt anxious sweat begin to prick at his hairline as he read your messages over and over again. He checked his calendar and grimaced when he saw that there were less than 3 weeks until the dinner and he still hadn’t ordered your clothes like you’d asked him to.

Once his order was called, he took his drink and sprinted out of the coffee shop he had been working in to drive back to his apartment where he’d left his laptop.

Your warning about items selling out and customs holding packages for an extra long time haunted him as he scoured his texts for the links you’d sent a little less than a month ago.

Jackpot.

He opened your laptop and carefully typed in the name of the dress you had bookmarked and sent to him. It was a nice dress, he noted, as he clicked on the drop-down menu and scrolled through the color available color options. When his cursor landed on the color IV (for ivory, as detailed in your text) he said a small thank you to the forces of the universe above. He added the dress to the cart and went to the search bar again to find the underwear. He blew out another breath of relief when he saw that the famous no-show panties weren’t all sold out. 

He searched for ivory again but he couldn’t find it. Is it sold out? How could it be sold out? All that’s left is BL. What’s BL. BL...for blanc because its french for white and ivory is white. I’m a genius. he pat himself on the back as he put the underwear in his cart and entered his card number. He had to grit his teeth when he saw the large chunk of change it would cost him to expedite shipping, but he supposed it was a meager price to pay for almost missing out on buying your dress after you’d asked so far in advance. 10 days later, Jimin received the package and called you to let you know that as soon as you finished your last manuscript you should hurry over and try on the dress to see if it needed any alterations. You swung by one morning later in the week to try on the dress in his en suite on your way to work. 

“Does it fit,” he asked in a half yawn as he leaned against the bathroom door. He nearly fell on his face when you swung the door open and handed him the haphazardly folded dress because you were running late.


“Yep. See you back here Friday! Make sure your suit is ready,” you shouted before swinging his door closed.


The day

Friday rolled around too quickly for comfort. You had barely gotten 2 days to rest from non-stop reading and editing before you had to commute to Jimin’s immediately after work. 

“Who the fuck schedules a gala at 7:30 on a Friday”, you had fumed to yourself earlier during rush hour.

Currently, Jimin was brushing his teeth in the bathroom frantically, dress shirt still half open, only briefs, and tube socks adorning his lower half. He was thinking about whether he would need to waste time styling his hair, seeing as the humidity from his shower was causing it to wave gently, when he heard a shout from the bedroom.

“Wha happeth? Ah you hut?” He panted around his toothbrush.


Nothing seemed to be wrong. Half your hair was in curlers and you still had your towel on as you stared down into the box where the dress and underwear were stashed away.

“I told you to order white underwear. Look at this,” you pulled the panties from their wrapping to reveal that they were in fact slightly lighter than Tiffany blue. “Minnie, didn’t you check the color before you selected it?”


“I dih--” he ran to rinse out his mouth and replace his toothbrush before coming back. “I did. It said it was white, it had a little BL and everything. For blanc. Because its French,” he trailed off. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“The site settings were in English, Jimin. I can’t read French. BL is blue,” you said quietly.


You picked up the receipt and handed the slip to the confused man.

“It says BL for---for blue.”


“Yeah,” you said lowly as you began to pull on the delicate underwear.


“I-I’m sorry. I really thought I picked the right color.”


“It’s alright, Minnie. It was a simple mistake, I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up in the first place. You were only helping me.”


“At least it’ll be covered up by your dress, right?” 


“At least there’s that,” you gave him a shaky smile, “Are you done with the bathroom? I’ll just go finish up in there and meet you by the door.”


“Alright.” He ran a head through his hair nervously, mussing up his bangs slightly. 

As he spun his car keys around, Jimin wondered whether the clothing would put a damper on the rest of the night when the sound of your shoes approaching shook him out of his musings.

The ivory of the dress looked against your skin was amazing and the way it molded itself to your figure took his breath away. But he could tell by the way your lips were drawn that you were still upset.

“What’s the matter?”


“The dress its...see-through. You can see the blue. I’m going to be the laughing stock of the whole company.” Jimin’s eyes dipped down and he saw that the blue stood out through the sheer, satiny material of the dress. 


“How about you call in sick and skip it. There’s no use in being uncomfortable all night for no reason.”


“I can’t. I volunteered to handle the jewelry auction. And my promotion is practically contingent on my being there. I have to go.” Frustrated tears welled up in your eyes.


“Well, you look beautiful. I almost don’t regret picking the wrong color,” he said while shrugging off his white suit jacket, “You can use this as a cover. It was making me feel too Vegas anyway.”

The joke fell flat when you simply spread your hands over the skirt one final time and took the jacket. You mumbled a quiet “Thank you.”

Much to his chagrin, the dress did put a damper on the whole evening. More specifically, on your evening. Jimin had a relatively good time. He had 3 free Shirley Temples and a shameful amount of gluten-free mini quiches. But even on the car ride home, your disappointment towards having to wear a jacket over such a beautiful dress all evening was palpable. When you arrived home, both of you seemed to release breaths you didn’t realize you were holding.

Immediately you began to strip out of your attire, exhausted from the gala. Jimin couldn’t help but watch you peel off the dress in your haste to get ready for bed. Because you were wearing a towel earlier, he hadn’t gotten a look at the delicate garments you had on underneath.

“Those are pretty on you,” he ventured quietly, ”The color is good.”


“Thanks. I can’t wait to go straight to sleep.”

 You removed your bra, threw on a sleep shirt, and hiked some sweatpants over the blue underwear.


He nodded and got ready for bed as well, all the while the image of you in blue burned bright on the backs of his eyelids while he waited for you to finish cleaning your teeth and washing your face. 

When Jimin felt the mattress dip with your weight, he waited a bit to gauge your mood. With your back to him and the way you lay close to the far edge of your side, it seemed you were still upset. But you weren’t the type to hold grudges and if you did linger on anything, you tended to internalize it, even if it was someone else’s fault. He reached a tentative hand out pat the curve of your hip.

“Not tonight, Jimin. I’m not in the mood right now.” You shifted to shrug his hand off.


“I really wasn’t trying anything. How do you know I’m not in the mood either?”


You turned to look at him over your shoulder and give a small laugh despite yourself. “You’re always in the mood, Minnie.”

“Hey, now,” he shuffled closer, sensing a lightening of the atmosphere, “I’m not always in the mood. You just looked especially good tonight.”


“How could I have looked good with your stupid jacket on. No one even got to see my dress.” 

Your voice was small, but it didn’t quite sound sad and he took a leap of faith by sliding the hand that was resting near your hip to snake underneath your sleep shirt and press to your stomach, pulling you in flush to him.


“That’s everyone else’s loss. But it doesn’t mean you didn’t look good”. He nuzzled his nose against the curve of your neck and let his hand knead lightly at the skin of your side. “Plus, I feel like we have a little secret since I was the only one who got to see you in that dress.”


“Well, I didn’t do that on purpose. Better you be the one to see those horrible underwear ruin the dress than my boss.” You closed your eyes and let the feeling of Jimin’s fingers gliding underneath the waistband of your sweats soothe you before you realized what he was doing. “Jimin!”

“What? I’m just touching you. Is that no longer allowed? Am I on probation?” He pulled the sagging collar of your shirt down and peppered soft, wet kisses across the parts of your neck the he could reach. It tickled and you barely held in a laugh.


“Yes, that’s exactly what this is. You’re on probation.”


“Okay, so let me probe a little bit,” he said with a mischievous lilt in his voice before yanking your sweatpants down unceremoniously. 


“Park Jimin,” you shouted when the colder air of the bedroom hit your skin, “That’s not even what probation means, you’re so--what is it?”


You peered at his face only to follow his fixed gaze down to the vibrant blue cloth covering your pelvis.

“Nothing, it’s just pretty,” he said almost to himself, his tone distracted and light. He smoothed a hand over the material, marveling at how smooth the fabric was. “You know my favorite color is blue.”


“Are you saying you did this on purpose?” You tried to scoot away experimentally but his hold remained firm. 


“I already told you it was an accident. But I’m realizing now it was a happy one.” 

“Yeah?” Your own voice sounded dreamy and far away as you basked in all the attention. He only hummed in response before making his move.

Now that you were somewhat pliant, Jimin wedged his other arm under you so he could further envelope you. One hand remained where it was, caressing the silken fabric without doing anything too risky. The other hand, however, quickly made its way over to your breasts. He massaged them gently, at first, until your nipples began to brush more firmly against his palms. He began to tweak them and pull, knowing it was the fastest way to get you squirming.


You arched your back in response and ended up pushing your hips back against his, accidentally grinding on him. You could feel his hardness through the double layer of the barely-there material of your panties and his boxers. Coupling this with the feeling of his hand traveling under your shirt to continue its ministrations on your nipples and the creeping sensation of his other hand as he fingered the intricate laser-cut designs above your mound. It was almost too much and you felt like you were being bombarded. You tried to sneakily tug the waistband of your sweats up as you distracted him as best you could by rubbing up against his front, but he caught onto your plan. His hand left the confines of your shirt quickly to grip at your throat and force you to lengthen your neck obediently.

“Just let me see, baby. I just wanna see.” His voice was lower than his normal speaking tone, and noticeably rougher. He turned his mouth to suck at the spot on your neck where your skin felt the softest and placed a warm hand over yours. 

He guided the hand you had holding the sweatpants down teasingly slow. There was something erotic about the movement that made you whimper quietly. He must have heard the sound because soon he was shushing you softly and finished pulling down the sweatpants as far as he could. You kicked them off the rest of the way before realizing your hands felt awfully empty. You tried to turn to face him, but he wrapped a tight arm around and simply plucked at your nipples a little rougher, nipped at the skin of your shoulder a little more harshly. 

“Jimin.” You felt too warm with the heat he was radiating at your back and even with the sleep shirt you had on bunched up at your underarms.

“I know what you need,” he said in a voice that pretended to be thoughtful and selfless. 

His free hand finally passed your mound to press between the apex of your thighs. The angle was a bit awkward with his arm winding around your torso, but with coordination he was able to circle his fingertips around your clit. At this point, you still had too much lucidity and were worried that he would ruin the expensive underwear and stain it irrevocably with your arousal.


You started to protest but he seemed to read your mind and give your throat a warning squeeze with his free hand. With the other, he shifted to swipe a few fingers near your clothed entrance. He made a pleased sound when he brought his hand back up and the tips of his fingers caught the low lamp light and glistened.

“Open.” He held his fingers up before your lips, his grip on your neck loosening so you could move to suck them into your mouth. 

You made sure to graze his fingertips with kitten licks before popping them out your mouth when you knew they were clean. Jimin nudged at your cheek with a slightly damp hand until you turned enough for him to kiss you, wanting to chase whatever was left of your taste. He groaned at the feeling of you licking into his mouth and you felt him throb where his groin was pressed against your ass. You kissed slowly for a long moment, all the while his other hand continued to rub figure eights around your clit before circling back down to the now sopping material covering your entrance. 


The onslaught of sensation was enough to have you gasping and breaking the kiss. You let out a long, broken moan as he hooked his fingers underneath the material to feel the wetness without a barrier, although it left little to the imagination at this point.

“I wanna be inside you badly right now,” he mumbled shakily. The tremors in his voice sent another wave of excitement through you. You loved when he got overwhelmed.


“Please, oh my god. I need it.” 

You breathed heavily out your nose to keep quiet while he shoved his boxers off. He pressed against you with renewed vigor and you both groaned at the feeling of his overheated skin pressing against yours. You moved to pull your panties off but he stopped you.


“Keep them on. I want you to slide them to the side and hold them like that while I fuck you.”


“How do you want it,” you asked as you stretched your hand out to reach for the condoms that lived in a bowl under the bed. You nearly threw the condom in his face when you finally grasped at a foil packet. He rolled it on and inspected it briefly before grabbing at the meat of your thigh to lift your leg and bring it to rest over one of his own.

“Like this. On your side, from the back. I want to be able to see you in these panties.”

Pressing a hand over your lower belly, he pulled you flush against him once more to line up his swollen head with your entrance. He bumped against you a few times to coat himself with your slickness. At the feel of the initial stretch you grit your teeth.

“You feel so good,” you sputtered when he finally bottomed out. His girth was one of the things you gave thanks for most. You felt perfectly full and the slick smoothness of his entry had your head spinning. He pressed his forehead to your shoulder and began to rock into you, shallowly at first.


“So do you. God,” he let out a whine when you clenched around him as he went deeper, “You’re so fucking wet.”


He shifted to plant a foot on the bed for leverage and so he could maneuver his hand back in between your now more open thighs. His fingertips bumped yours where they pulled the crotch of the panties up and to the side. You felt him grab your hand and move it slightly higher and more inward. It became clear what his motives were when the fabric caught on your clit with the force of every thrust. You grip on the fabric tightened as your back bowed, pressing yourself more firmly against him. Jimin moaned at the fresh wave of arousal you coated him with.

“Jimin,” your voice was tight with need and nearly drowned out but the slick sounds his thrusts made. 


“Harder?”


“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling your orgasm start to build. 

He cursed when you tightened up on him once more and rewarded you with a sharp smack to the globe of your ass. He began to fuck you in earnest.

“Arch your back, baby” he grunted. 

But before you could blink through the fog of your impending orgasm to comply, he brought his free hand up to cup your throat and pull you back how he wanted you. He squeezed a little for good measure and you felt an almost electric shock in your groin. You let go of the underwear in favor of tending to your clit with your own fingers at the same moment that he began to truly plow into you. Your toes started to curl and you marveled through your hazy consciousness at how your orgasms started the same way.


It started tonight, like it always did--with a pin-prick of pleasure that had you squirming. Then it turned into white hot waves building from the soles of your feet upwards. As the feeling reached your belly, the pleasure became molten and pulled every muscle in your body taut. You could feel your limbs shaking but you were too far gone to signal to Jimin that you were about to come, your breath leaving your mouth in increasingly small choked gasps. The pressure that had been building steadily in your abdomen snapped and you fell off your precipice screaming.

Watching you fall apart was always one of Jimin’s favorite pass-times. As you trembled before him, he tried his best to keep his eyes open so he could see you. But the way your walls gripped him tore his attention away. He squeezed his eyes shut and rutted up into you to chase his own high. It rippled through him faster than he was expecting, forcing him to tighten his grip on you to ground himself.

You calmed down first and listened to the sounds of his labored breaths in your ear. Luckily, you were on your side, so you didn’t have to worry about him collapsing on top of you or having to balance from on top of him to your side of the bed. Your back felt too sweaty though and you frowned at the thought of getting up again to take another shower before being able to sleep. When he eventually got out of bed to dispose of the condom and start the shower you grimaced at the feeling of cooling perspiration and tugged off your sleep shirt in hopes of dabbing at the moisture. 

“You coming,” Jimin asked when he came to lean on the doorframe of the bathroom.


You nodded and got up carefully, not wanting to overestimate the leftover strength in your knees and fall. You discarded your panties and he watched you hobble past him to the toilet with a smug expression. 

“I bet you’re not still upset about the underwear now,” he smirked at you while sliding open the door to the shower and stepping in.


“I bet you were never really sorry about buying my underwear late,” you countered over the sound of the water. You flushed the toilet and smiled softly to yourself while your washed your hands and he screamed at the momentary change in water temperature. 

He stuck his head out of the door as he waited for the warm water to return. “How did you know I bought it late?”


“You bought them on my account. I got the order confirmation and the email, it just got buried because I was swamped with work. But I saw while I was checking my phone in line for the women’s room at the gala.”


He had enough sense to give you smile that was 40% apology and 60% cheekiness.

“These are nicer than ivory,” he said with an exaggerated snobby accent.


“How? Because you got to play the white knight and lend me your suit jacket?”


“No,” Jimin trailed off. He stuck a hand out to pull you into the shower with him. “They’re nicer because they’re the underwear I fucked you in.”


“How charming. You know, the ivory could have been that pair too.”


“I don’t know. Nothing gets me in the mood faster than a nice blue. Why do you think its my favorite color?”


“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe so,” he stepped aside to let you have a turn with the water.

“Wash my hair? Its the least you can do.”


When you both finished showering, you could tell that it was way past your bedtime but you had to wait until Jimin changed the sheets. You were so tired you would have gladly slept on them, but he had a thing about post-sex sheets.

You blotted the ends of your hair with an old t-shirt and watched him make the bed with a neatness you’d only seen in hospitals. A spot of blue caught your attention and you realized you left your panties on the floor. You pinched them by the corner daintily and moved to put the garment in his laundry basket.

“Wait,” he said and plucked the panties out of your hands before shoving them in the back pocket of his sweats.


“What are you gonna do with those?”


“I don’t know. Save them for a rainy day, probably.” He gave you a wink before returning to fluff the pillows one last time.

[katie-dub]

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year: A Series of Unfortunate Festive Events

Emma is Killian’s emergency contact and she’s called into hospital after he has a horribly awkward festive accident.

AO3

Thanks for all your lovely comments on the previous day’s fics! :D You can find them all here:

Day 1 |  Day 2 |  Day 3 |  Day 4

A Series of Unfortunate Festive Events 

Emma runs into the hospital and rushes straight to the reception desk. “Emma Swan here to see Killian Jones, there's been some kind of emergency, I got a call?”

To Emma's surprise and annoyance the receptionist sniggers. She grits her teeth trying not to screech ‘what the fuck?’ in the receptionist’s face. The woman must feel the full force of Emma's displeasure even without her saying a word, for she looks immediately chastised and a little embarrassed at letting her professional demeanour slip.

“I'm sorry, he's in room 4, just down the hall on the left.”

Emma gives the woman a suspicious look but heads off the way she pointed. She knocks on the door and on hearing a raspy “come in”, creeps into the room.

She gasps at the sight of Killian. His face is covered in scratches and bruises, there’s an intravenous drip in his good hand and his bad hand is bandaged up. He looks pale, but he manages a weak smile at the sight of her.

“What the fuck happened here?” she asks, rushing to his side. She’s trying to act normal around him, but her nerves are fried, she thought he was dead and the fucking receptionist actually laughed at her for asking after him. She finds herself completely, inexplicably and irrationally angry at Killian for the whole situation.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” Emma glares at him in reply, he meets her gaze for a moment and sighs melodramatically. “So I was at the Christmas Parade on Main Street -”

“Why?” interrupted Emma, unable to help herself, festive events like the Annual Storybrooke Christmas Parade were not Killian’s thing at all. He usually mocked those displays from inside a good bar with a glass of something warm and preferably alcoholic in hand and Emma alongside him.

He winced at the question “It’s a whole awkward situation where David wanted to see Mary Margaret, but she had promised to spend the day with Ruby and -”

“This is all starting to sound very high school.”

“Right. Sorry, basically: informal double date.”

Her annoyance at the situation grows - and then so does her annoyance at herself. Why should she care if Killian has a date? But then, why did he hide it from her? “I’m surprised you didn’t mention this?”

He shrugged. “Barely seemed worth mentioning - Ruby made it pretty clear she’s interested in Mulan and we were mostly checking out Santa’s elves together.”

“OK, so I still don’t understand how you got from that, to this.” Emma waves her hand at him awkwardly, then crosses her arms and slumps down on the bed to await his reply.

He moves his hand as though to scratch behind his ear, but winces as it pulls against his IV. Good, Emma thinks vindictively. “Someone was handing out samples of spiced cookies? And..”

“You didn’t ask if they had nuts in?!” Emma yells at him before he can finish speaking.

“Of course I asked, I’m not a bloody idiot! It was some high school kid who clearly doesn’t understand the importance of accurately answering such questions.”

“So you went into shock …”

“Aye,” he agrees with a nod, “and that’s when it got bad.”

“Well, not being able to breathe would do that to you,” Emma says, unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“I may have … stumbled into the parade.”

“Right …”

“And got tangled up in some bloody tinsel.”

“OK?”

“And landed on my face in front of the marching band -” Emma grimaces at what she’s sure he’s about to say “- who trampled my hand.”

Emma’s shaking her head at this entire situation. As much as she hates to admit it, she can understand why the receptionist laughed now. “Well, that’s …” Emma searches for something tactful to say. She’s not sure there is anything tactful, so she plumps for honest instead. “That’s fucking awful, but at least you’re OK.”

“I’ve not even told you everything yet.” Emma looks to the ceiling in exasperation before sighing and raising an eyebrow at him, lips pursed as she waits for more. “My epipen needs to be administered to the thigh - and an enthusiastic first aider felt the need to pull down my pants to give it to me.”

Emma’s lip twitched but she said nothing.

“And, well, I lost a bet with Will and as such I’ve been” Killian drops his voice and mutters the end of the sentence to himself.

“What’s that?”

Killian looks pained, but meets her eye. “I’ve been wearing novelty festive thongs for a week now.” Emma couldn’t help but snigger. “Today I had on a rudolph the red nose reindeer one -” Emma’s snigger grew into a full scale laugh “- it was furry and when they pulled my pants down, it started playing that bloody song while the nose flashed.” Emma couldn’t breathe she was laughing so hard. “I’m glad that my pain brings you such joy,” Killian says bitterly, scowling at Emma.

It takes Emma some time to compose herself, but when she finally does she thinks of something. “So what was this bet then?”

“A gentleman never tells.”

Emma frowns at this cryptic reply. “You literally just told me that the whole of Storybrooke saw your reindeer on display, but that is too personal?”

“Aye.”

“Killian…” Emma begins in a warning tone but she doesn’t get any further before he sighs and looks away from her.

“Fine, Will bet me that I wouldn’t ask a fair maiden to attend a gathering with her. I forfeited and thus I am doomed to wear novelty undergarments until the end of the year.”

“Don’t try to pull that Shakespeare crap to confuse me, Jones. I know what you’re saying, who is this girl and why wouldn’t you want to date her? Because this is so high school I could cry at how lame it is.”

“I do want to date her - but I know that she’ll say no so why suffer the agony of rejection -”

“- when you can become the laughing stock of the town?” Emma finishes for him.

“Well I didn’t exactly plan on all this happening!”

“No. I guess not.” The annoyance that Emma felt towards Killian earlier flares up once again - how dare he want to date some girl that he hadn’t even mentioned to her? He’s her best friend, she’s his emergency contact, why all the secrecy? “So who is this girl that has Killian ‘I’m devilishly handsome’ Jones doubting himself? I can’t decide whether to hate her for making you feel this way or to high five her for knocking you down a peg or two.”

“You’d like her - doesn’t take any crap from anyone and basically kicks my ass all the time.”

Emma couldn’t explain why she’s so upset. It must just be all the emotions of the day - she’s obviously overwhelmed by everything that had happened.

“Good,” she spits out sounding entirely too bitter for her liking. Get over it, she tells herself firmly and continues on in a far more even voice. “You need someone to help you curb your worst impulses.”

“She does do that.”

Who is this woman? Emma thinks desperately. Could it be Belle? He always did seem to like her, although I did think that was platonic… Maybe Aurora? She seems a little too sweet for his taste, but maybe that’d be good for him?

“Swan? You still with me?”

“Sorry, what?”

Killian tilts his head and studies her. “Are you mad at me?”

“No!” Emma replies a little too loud and too fast. “I mean, no, why would I be mad?” She attempts to lean back, but there’s nothing to lean back against and ends up sprawled out uncomfortably.

“I don’t know?” Killian says slowly and deliberately, “but you definitely seem tense.”

“I guess, I’m just wondering how there can be this perfect woman out there that you never saw fit to mention to me.” She tries for a breezy tone, but it comes out harsh and odd.

“Are you jealous?”

Emma scoffs, but can’t quite bring herself to meet Killian’s eye, he was always so good at reading her and she’s a little scared at what he might find.

“Oh Emma, don’t you know?” She looks up at his words, meeting his eyes. “It’s you.”

She feels like her mouth has dropped open like a cartoon character, such is her shock at his words. She doesn’t even think, just finds herself moving towards him and kissing him gently and it feels so good and so right that she doesn’t hesitate to grab his shoulders and pull -

“FUCK!” Killian yelps in pain, there’s a sudden beeping from his monitor and Emma springs back in shock. A nurse rushes into the room to see what the commotion is.

Right. He’s in hospital, he has tubes and things sticking in him. It’s not really the time for a full scale make out.

Emma flees to the side of the room and stands watching as the nurse fixes everything. “Do me a favour,” she says on her way out the room, “save the ‘thank God you’re alive’ passion until you’re at home, OK?”

Emma’s face flushes at the words but she just nods dumbly and moves back to linger uncomfortably at Killian’s side. Killian pats the bed next to him and Emma sits down carefully.

“So that was -” he begins, looking a little awestruck.

“Awkward.” Killian’s face falls. “Oh, no, I mean, the bit with the wires and hurting you. I liked the kissing - and the other part.”

“The part where I said I wanted to date you?”

Emma grins at the way Killian is smiling at her. “Yeah, that bit was good. Want to go on a date with me when you’re out of here?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you?”

“Well, it took you long enough already, I thought I’d cut to the chase.”

“True. Will you let me plan the date? I may have been thinking about this for an shamefully long time.”

“Absolutely,” Emma says, cheeks hurting from the way she can’t stop smiling. She’d be more embarrassed if Killian’s face didn’t have a matching dopey expression on it. “Just maybe don’t wear that rudolph thong, OK?”

Killian threw back his head and laughed. “Deal.”

[kpurereactions]

Im Yours | Part 6

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Rating: Drama, Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS: Language, Eventual Violence, Lots of Smut Later on

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 FINALE

‘What do you mean Pavliukov is in town. Tell me you did not interrupt my night with y/n to play a stupid trick.’ Jaebum yelled at the men who already sat around the table in his home conference room.

All the boys looked at one another and pressed their lips together, wishing they were joking about the notorious Russian leader of the Bratva mob snooping around their city. He was ruthless and just as ugly on the inside as he was on the out. There was always talk about him randomly showing his face in Seoul since Jaebum had taken over for his father but they started years ago. They thought the threat was empty at this point.

“We were given a tip that he was at Park’s club uptown. We’ve found out he’s pushing drugs, trying to expand his business.’

'On my turf?’ Jeabum said softly, eyes exploding with anger. 'On my fucking turf!’ He then screamed, slamming his fist on the table and making everyone jump at his sudden outburst.

'We’ve become aware that he finds you weak since he knows nothing about you. His father was scared of yours but he knows nothing about you. Nothing to make him stop.’ Mark said after a few minutes.

'The good news is Park respects us enough not to go through with the offer Pavliukov gave him. He had one of his men assure us that he wouldn’t break the trust he had with you in hope that you would help protect him if the Bratva clan came for him. Jaebum rolled his shoulders and relaxed a little.

'Send him my word, and thank him for staying true. It won’t go unnoticed.’ He said nodding.

'What do we do about the Bratva, Boss?’ Jackson asked, leaning forward onto his elbows.

'Keep an eye on him. Every time he does something I want to know about it. I want to know when he blinks. I want to know when he breaths, when he shits. Jinyoung, send a message to Choi and Howan, make it very clear they are either with us or against us. Nothing in between. I don’t know if Bratva are going to be reaching out to anyone else but we can’t let them even consider it.’ Jaebum said. He looked around at all the boys and hit the desk with his fist one more time before storming out of the conference room.

You hadn’t been able to sleep all night, Jaebum having to up and leave your couch at midnight due to a frantic phone call left you worried. As BamBam came to pick you up the next morning you couldn’t help but think something was wrong. His normally goofy smile was replaced by a pressed grimace and he seemed to look at you a little longer than usual. You tried making conversation with him but it wasn’t worth it, he just kept ignoring you. Thankfully as you walked in the house, no one else seemed to be in the same piss poor attitude.

The only thing missing was Jaebum. Jackson let it slip that he was working upstairs but every time you tried to make you way up to see him you were stopped either by a slight shake of Jinyoung’s head or Jackson’s hand wrapping around your arm to bring you back. You didn’t like that you weren’t able to go see him, but something told you that as bad as you wanted to see him, today was just not the day.

"I tried something new today. Cured kingfish with bok choy and dashi dressing.’ You said with a sad smile as you placed the dish on the long table surrounded by all the boys. Except for Jaebum that is.

You wanted to sit and enjoy the meal with them but it was just to weird. You didn’t feel comfortable anymore eating without Jaebum sitting next to you. You made your way back into the kitchen and began to clean, might as well get everything you could done before BamBam came to take you home. You couldn’t help but huff as you washed out the pots you used. You were getting jittery and even though it had only been two weeks you craved to hear Jaebum’s laugh and feel his arms around you again.

You huffed once more and dropped the pot, the loud bang startling you out of your thoughts. Even though no one was around your cheeks still reddened in embarrassment, but after a few minutes when no one came running you picked it back up and continued to scrub. You jumped again when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a head pressed against your shoulder. You didn’t have to look down to know who the arms belong to, the smell of his cologne alone was enough confirmation for you to know.

"Ive missed you.” He said deeply, squeezing around your waist tighter.

“You’ve been busy. I understand.” You said turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Im just glad I got to see you at least once today.”

He smiled and brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, squeezing slightly before dipping his head down to kiss you. But before your kiss could deepen the sounds of chairs scrapping and footsteps coming towards the kitchen. You groaned and pulled out of his kiss, turning to the boys who all filed into the kitchen.

“I have to go back to work, but ill try and come see you tonight, alright?” He said kissing your cheek. You nodded and BamBam caught your eye.

“Leave in 10?” He asked handing his plate to Yugyeom.

You nodded and turned back to Jaebum, placing a kiss on his lips and making him smile slightly before you turned to start packing your things up, your knives now cleaned and your apron already wrapped up. All BamBam did when you turned to him was nod and start to walk out the kitchen. You looked back to Jaebum with eyebrows pressed together.

“Were all just a little uptight today.” He said as the two of you walked out of the kitchen. He held onto your hand until you found the door and your eyebrows pressed again.

“Are you sure nothing else is wrong with BamBam?” You said as you watched him walked around to the other side of the car and get in.

“I got after him right before he went to get you, he might still be mad at me.” He shrugged, stopping in front of the door.

“Ill se you later tonight?” You asked softly turning to him.

“Ill call you I still have some things to do.” He said kissing your cheek and opening the door for you.

The ride back was just as awkward and although the feeling of Jaebum’s lips on your cheek lingered you couldn’t stop thinking about BamBam. Your eyes looked over to him more than once, his eyes were cold and looking straight head. Clearing your voice you rubbed your hands together and looked from him to the driver and then back to him.

“Okay seriously, what is wrong with you. Did I do something wrong?” You asked turning your body towards him. His lips pressed together and he turned to look out the window, still ignoring you. “BamBam I’m serious. What is wrong?” You asked reaching for his hand.

He looked at you and his eyes were burning. Something covered his face for half a second but it was gone long before you could read what it was. His head shook but to your surprise his eyes met yours again and he sighed.

“Im sorry I didn’t mean to-”

_

There was a ringing in your ear and you had no control over your body. Eyes blinking your heart began to race as they weren’t getting any clearer. You tried to rub your eyes but something around your wrists pulled and you groaned as the pressure tightened. Thats when you realized there was something holding your hands together and something covering your eyes. Your heart began to race, panic setting in so fast your head began to spin.

Struggling you began to cry, not sure if you should scream or keep quiet. You pulled your wrists away again but the ropes just tightened even more. Tears streamed faster as you tried to turn your head to the side to see if you could get the bag off of your head but the feeling of something tightening around your neck made you gasp in surprise and stop. You turned your head the other way and let out a sob as there was another tightening feeling. The only thing that wasn’t tied together were your ankles but you weren’t dumb enough to try and move them.

As hard as you tried to calm  yourself down you couldn’t contain the panic that was rising in your chest. The fact that you couldn’t do anything about it made the panic even worse. If you moved, you strangled yourself and if you didn’t… well you didn’t even know what would happen. You had no idea what was going on.

Thats when the sound of a parade of footsteps echoed. Your ears perked, they seemed to be on the other side of a wall which meant you were in a room, and by the fact that you were now half laying on the flood, the room was all concrete. The sound of a door opening made you jump again and the ropes tightened around your neck even more causing a sharp gasp to leave your throat as you tried to move in a way to cause a slight slack.

You jumped and yelped out of fear when something kicked your feet to the side.

'You said she love for Im?’ A husky voice said in english. There was a pause and then a slow, deep, hair curling laugh was admitted. 'Ah, she very cute? Maybe be my love.’ The voice made you whimper and then grunt slightly when a strong hand gripped your chin as the bag was ripped off of your head.

'I bet you sound very pretty in bed.’

Your eyes darted back and fourth as a fat scruffy man chuckled again slowly, his alcohol coated breath making you need to throw up. Tears ran down your face, you still had no idea what was going on but all that you did know was it wasn’t good. You tried to look to the side but the strong hand on your chin tightened, shaking your head vigorously to make you look back at him. Your bottom lip trembled but you tried your hardest not to let out a sob. Finally, when a man to your left whispered something in Russian his hand let your chin go. You head fell forward harshly making the ropes tighten faster than you realized they would. Your breath became staggered, hard and rapid as you choked for air, the feeling of the oxygen leaving your head causing your throat to burn.

'Take off so poor girl can breath.’ The man said and instantly the feeling of the ropes loosening around your neck. You gasped for breath as you fell forward, your body heaving as you tried you slow your body down, you’re face all but pressed to the floor at your hands still tied behind your back made it impossible to prop yourself up.

“Whats happen-” Your question was cut off by a sharp blow to your stomach, sending you across the floor with a loud groan.

'You speak when spoken to, bitch.’

You couldn’t help the body curling sobs that were leaving out of your body, the pain that now struck your side making it even harder to breath. Your eyes opened slowly, trying to blink away the mascara that had seeped down into your eyes when something caught your attention. Right in front of you were a set of shoes, a set of shoes that were far to familiar. Painfully you rose your head taking in the red suit. You didn’t even have to get past the knees to know who it was, but your head continued to raise until you were looking at him in the eyes. There was so much hate in his eyes it seemed like and your heart broke. How could he hate you. How after all the time you two had spent together, all the advice and the love he made you feel, how could he do this to you.

“BamBam.” You cried earning you another blow to the ribs. You endured this blow, your eyes not leaving his as he watched you hissed in more pain.

“Now what.” He spat, his eyes not leaving yours either.

“Now we wait. Let Im come to us. Then? I Kill him. Take over his reign.” Your eyes widened and you tried to move but the pain in your side made you grunt.

“I think, princess, That its time to tell who is your boyfriend.” The man said squatting in front of you, taking your chin once again. “Who you think is Im Jaebum? Hmm? Business man?” He said with a deep chuckle.

“Im Jaebum is bad, bad man.”

“Fuck you.” You spat, how could he say that. You groaned again as he let go of your chin to slap your face.

“You know nothing stupid girl!” He scram, spit flying out of his mouth.

“You think he just sit in tower all day? Talking on phone and signing paper?” His voice rose before dipping into a scary chuckle again. “No, Im Jaebum kills. He kills everyone who say no to him. If you make him mad, you die too.”

“How you not know Im Jaebum is big mafia boss, little little girl.” He smiled meanly. “But me? Im much, much more mean.”

Your eyes moved back to BamBam and you could have sworn his eyes softened for half a second, but the moment it registered that you were looking at him he stiffened. Your eyes watered again, anything that being said to you about Jaebum didn’t matter. It wasn’t registering. All that was, was the fact that you were laying there, hands tied behind your back while a Russian man punched you around with the person you had been the closest with watched.

“I have to get back before Jaebum finds out I’m gone.” BamBam said suddenly, his voice making you jump.

“BamBam please.” You whispered, your body shaking now in fear of being alone with this man. “BamBam don’t leave me here, BamBam. BamBam!” You screamed as he walked away without looking back, the door slamming behind him.

The feeling of your hair being pulled back to force you to sit back made you scream, your side bursting in pain, your eyes zoning in on the pool of blood that started to stain the concrete.

“I come to have fun with you later. Just wait.” He growled in your ear before letting your head go so you fell onto the ground, this time the impact a bit to much as you lost the strength to fight back as he stepped over you and out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

[rainbowserenity]

Prompt 2 because you deserve more otp after the accident D:

“I keep telling them we’re not dating, but they keep telling me friends don’t normally make out when drunk.”

RFA: I apologize for making this all serious and mildly angsty. Straight up silly fluff is not my strong suit. My vision of the OTP is also not… very straight up fluffy, so I apologize for that in advance :P

Oh, and also sorry again RE: quality. I somehow ended up writing this at 7am again (in one go no less) so um…. oops

I.

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

They were in this weird kind of party that Fang insisted that they go to, Sazh had been seriously told by a teenager Dajh that he should go hook up because that’s what Dajh expected of him, Noel was too curious about actual contemporary drinks and Serah/Yeul just wanted to see him drunk, Snow and Vanille were terrible human beings at suggesting terrible drinking games, and Hope was absolutely too worn out from his day’s work to put up any reliable counter-stupidness rhetoric - basically a bunch of really dumb things happened and before she knew it someone (Serah?) had shoved her onto the dance floor and there were voices calling for people to kiss the person right next to them, like really kiss them, show them your true colors and the full curve of your lips and all that stuff. She groaned in exasperation. She wasn’t against kisses or even kisses in dumb situations, but the sincerity the radio was calling for was getting on her nerves. People couldn’t just get sincere kisses from Claire Farron. She didn’t even know what a sincere kiss from her would be like. She was technically only twenty-one, after all. In some parts of the world she’d only be starting to drink.

She meant to get out of the dance floor or maybe shove someone away or… she forgot, because someone had pressed their face against hers and it felt strangely nice, that kiss. It was deep and sincere but terribly non-invasive. The figure in the darkness was holding back, seemingly as ambivalent about the sincere kiss idea as she was - but the force against her lips and body felt right and they tasted good and it was almost as if they knew she didn’t want anything more. It was the only possible thing that could have made her want more, want to see who they were and why they had kissed her in this way, yet -

A wave of dancers crashed right into them and the mysterious kisser was gone, just like that.

Claire didn’t learn until much, much later that said crash had given Hope a migraine for the rest of the weekend.

II.

The second time it happened, her defenses were crumbling.

She had been drinking furtively in a bar to a mix of melancholy and angry songs, making shitty cocktails and threatening to toss the owner’s ridiculously fat but noisy dog across the town (she couldn’t help it, he was white and red-nosed and looked just too much like Mog when she was drunk). Serah had been sending her anxious text messages, concerned where her older sister had gone without leaving much of a note. Snow and Sazh were probably looking for her in town as far as she knew. She didn’t really care.

She supposed it was always going to happen, this terrible disorientation at having to - somehow integrate into a functioning world again, after Etro knows how long of serving in Valhalla and then thirteen days of serving Bhunivelze across Nova Chrysalia. She could still fight almost as well as she used to, but her finer, terribly anxious reflexes had effects on people. She couldn’t really practice fighting with anyone - or, she guessed, actually fight anyone - without somehow scaring the living daylight out of them, and it just reminded her all over again how she wasn’t and possibly could never really be normal.

You know you’re not the only one, a voice in her head scolded as she mindlessly stirred the drink in front of her. You know Serah and Yeul still see things, sometimes. You’re just pitying yourself and being irresponsible. Closing yourself off again. Don’t you remember the last time something like this happened?

She grimaced. Could she still send a text to Serah without embarrassing herself to Cocoon and back? What would she even say? It was getting too late. The drowsiness paralyzed her arms and head. She wanted to put her head on the table, just let it all pass. Surely they wouldn’t throw her out…

“L- Claire-san?”

Oh. She pretended she had straight up passed out. That voice was from someone she hadn’t even really been brave enough to think about.

“Claire-san?” The voice was growing more alarmed now. He approached her, then called back. “How long has she been here? Is she okay?”

He picked her up with some difficulty - he was still so lean, he never ate enough, Serah and Noel kept yelling at him for it - but being in his arms reminded her of that time in the middle of absolutely nothing and she wanted to cry. She hadn’t understood what she felt then, and she didn’t understand what she felt now. It had meant everything to her that he had come for her, but what was the feeling, really…

“Hope?”

“Oh, you’re still awake!” The relief in his voice was astounding. He cradled her like a princess and if she was sober she’d be squirming while redder than Serah’s newest lipstick. “I was worried…”

Ugh. Was worrying people all she was good for nowadays? “Kiss me,” she blurted impulsively, emboldened by all the alcohol in her system. I’m going to be so ashamed of myself tomorrow.

She couldn’t see his face in the darkness - the things she would have given to see it and for his whole frame to stop spinning around in her drunkenness - but she did feel him almost drop her in surprise, and then a silence that stretched for just a few seconds too long for her liking. “… Claire-san?”

“Please,” she groaned, “Call me Claire… or Light.”

She could feel him purse his lips. “I… wouldn’t do that, Light. You’ve quite obviously drunk a few shots, and - ”

She pulled him towards her anyway and realized two things; one, that she had kissed him before; two, that although she initiated this kiss, he kissed back deeper than he had the first time. There was some kind of… longing in the tension of his face that made her head flare as if on fire. She needed to know more about it. And what was the other thing? Why did he kiss her like he knew exactly how to kiss her?

Damn it, she really only made the problem even more complicated for herself by attempting to somehow solve the problem.

“Light!” The silver-haired man pulled back, anxious and chastising. “Don’t… do that.” His hold on her grew tighter, more stiff. She was reminded again that he was twenty-seven years old - their age gap had basically reversed. Oh, no, he probably has found someone else by now. He’s always been better at dealing with his problems. Even in the Ark -

“Let’s get you home.” The declaration is a bit too fast, and she thinks (in this daze, please don’t let her throw up on his jacket, where would all the dignity she has built up in 1000 years even go after that) she likes it.

III.

The third time it happens she’s staying over at his place and the whole thing reeks of being consensual.

“I think I am a little drunk,” she announces, closing his door behind her and sticking her neck towards the inside of the house in his general direction. “They were celebrating Amodar’s promotion… again.”

“Promotion banquets.” She hears him from his room. It sounds like he’d just gotten back home as well. “Is that all this world’s good for? I had one, too. Alyssa poured me too many glasses, as usual.”

“Are you sure those are safe?” She complains, awkwardly stepping into her slippers and stumbling towards him. He’s changing out of whatever he had worn to his banquet and his hair’s just a bit disheveled and she wants him, wants to reach for his pulse and his frame and just know that he’s there and he’s safe. Or she also wants him to hold her hand and keep her wanted and safe. But that’s just an afterthought.

“Oh, yeah,” he answers absent-mindedly, pointing at the bed right behind him, “why don’t you just crash here for a bit? You look spent, and they still haven’t finished whatever they’re doing in your room, so…”

She likes that he’s calling his guest room her room. Statistically speaking, she’s the one using it like 90% of the time, but she’d like to think it goes beyond just statistics. His bed is nice, anyway. It’s always well-kept and soft and it feels like him and oh god what is she thinking. She falls on top of it, stretches just a few degrees. “You look like you can use a crash, too.”

They agree to just both take a nap and then somewhere into the nap they’ve held hands and wrapped themselves around each other and kissed again. She convinces herself that it’s just some variation of friends with benefits. Or partners with benefits. Or whatever it is. Whatever it is, it feels nice. And she wants more of it. And if Hope’s being as willing as he is (she’s pretty sure he reached for her first this time, poked her and then threaded his fingers and then she doesn’t remember) it must be okay for them to do it…

IV.

“Lightning,” Fang says, flanked by a totally blushing Vanille behind her back, “we need to talk.”

“What?” she’s still annoyed that Fang refuses to call her Claire. The self-proclaimed old hag will always be a pain when it comes to her old friends. “Don’t tell me - ”

“You need to admit that you and Hope are dating,” Vanille chimes, all serious and with her fingers crossed in that Pulse sign of hers, “sooo that you can move onto the next step.”

“For the love of everything - we’re not dating - ”

“Yeah? And now you don’t even hide it anymore, if we give you two just one shot each you’ll make out right in front of us.” Fang’s tone is derisive. “You Cocoon people and your shame.”

“We - ”

“And you can’t tell me you’ve always enjoyed drinking so much. Come on, girlfriend, you’re trying to hide something.”

“Light-san?” A familiar voice echoes overhead and Claire facepalms as she notes the two Pulse women’s understanding smiles. “Are you there?”

“Maybe we should talk to Hope too,” Fang says slowly, turning towards Vanille who is nodding furiously, “so he realizes what he’s doing. Trying to score someone all those years younger than him - ”

Claire barely notices it as she aims a fist towards the empty space two inches to the right of the brunette’s face.

V.

Maybe they do have a point, Claire concedes a few weeks later, as Hope leans in to kiss her on one glass of Bourbon and she’s (quite effortlessly) balancing her own glass of sherry, and alcohol is expensive.

“Have you tried skipping your drink?” She tries, holding up her glass between them. It’s almost empty. His smile nearly freezes on his face before he tilts his head and answers.

“It’s a good habit, don’t you think? And it’s just one glass every once in a while. Studies say it’s supposed to be good for your metabolism. I suppose I can look into it a bit more, try - ”

“Ah, I know. Alyssa told me about this new public health campaign that your institution is doing. I remotely remember something along the lines of the best drink for the soul is water.”

She thinks she can feel him blink as he assesses the situation. She turns her gaze towards him, unfaltering. He stares for a few seconds, then smiles.

“Well, are you planning to drop the drink?” He asks conversationally, raising a hand in an offer to take her glass. She thinks there’s a glint of something in his eyes - a wish? Fear? Whatever it is, it also has hope in it. And she’s not going to let him down. Not in a moment like this. Not when she…

Okay, loves him so much. She doesn’t care anymore why exactly she loves his embraces and his kisses and just being around him all the time. It doesn’t matter. It just matters that she wants more of it and they shouldn’t have to hide behind a layer of glass and spirited water to do it. He deserves more than that. And perhaps she does, too. She’ll convince herself someday.

“Yeah,” she agrees, and buries her head on his shoulder. He hesitates - and then puts an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Their breaths are warm on each other’s faces. “How about we try tomorrow?”

“What are we even going to do with the leftovers?”

“We invite Snow and the girls,” she whispers, and she knows his lips are also curving up in a grin, “and we don’t let them go until they’re done with the whole stash.”