#she also pointed at me in those 'will waking up soaking wet' and said 'look it's you!' because i also wake up soaking with sweat

[nthecannibal]

im rewatching hannibal! but this time with my mother, because its going to, probably, be the last time i live with her for a long period of time (im changing courses for a distant college) and i keep cringing so hard everytime those alana kissing scenes appears, god its so embarrassing because i know the end but she doesnt so she just looks at me like ????

[springwitch26]

green like her eyes (part 2) (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: you and melissa enjoy smoking weed together to blow off steam from work. this time, things get really steamy.

warnings: smut (18+), recreational marijuana use, consensual high sex, i'm a big fan of dirty talk can you tell

notes: consume drugs responsibly. my requests are open—what do you want to read next? leave a reply and i'll kiss you sweetly 💚

despite your best efforts, you both got soaked in the rain. you were high, so running through the woods felt like flying—but in reality, you two were pretty sluggish as you made your way back to melissa's house. it had been an exhausting work week, after all.

when you found shelter on melissa's front porch, you spent a moment catching your breath and giggling at the absurdity of your situation. melissa fumbled with her keys as her eyes, dark and slightly bloodshot, raked over you.

your thin blouse and skirt were thoroughly drenched and nearly see-through. she made a point not to look below your waist, but she did sneak several peeks at your breasts as they bounced with every breathy laugh. your hair was disheveled, and your makeup had been ruined by the water dripping down your face. you looked messy, and melissa's heart raced at the thought of seeing you like this in a different context.

seeing you shiver broke her out of her trance, and melissa swiftly unlocked the door. she guided you inside with a hand on your lower back and followed after you. once inside, you hesitated to venture past the welcome mat. your clothes were dripping wet and freezing cold, and the last thing you wanted to do was make a mess of melissa's treasured home.

"it's a little late to get shy on me now, sweetheart," melissa said, watching you hover by the door with your arms wrapped around yourself. "you're shakin' like a leaf. come warm up by the fire."

melissa crooked two fingers at you, calling you over to her, and at this point you were convinced she was teasing you on purpose. she had to know that you were thinking about those two fingers curling and pumping inside you.

nonetheless, you obeyed melissa and joined her by the fireplace. dazed and still deeply high, you thought nothing of resting your head on her shoulder.

"mel, i'm coooold," you whined in her ear. "these clothes feel awful."

your clothes felt like icy weights on your body, and you wanted them off as soon as possible. so did melissa. she didn't miss a beat.

"you can borrow some of mine. be right back, okay?" she kissed your cheek lightly—so lightly you thought you imagined it—before rushing upstairs to her room.

uncomfortable and missing melissa already, you had only one goal: to get those evil clothes off your body. you pawed and tugged at your shirt in an attempt to pull it over your head and off. but with your motor skills having taken a hit from the weed, you failed. instead, you got stuck with your arms above your head and the shirt halfway off.

"jeez, hon! what'd ya get yourself into now?" melissa's tone was playful as she came swiftly to your rescue. she took hold of the shirt and instructed you to hold still. "easy now... there we go."

melissa didn't hesitate to help you out of that predicament. she also wasn't prepared to see you topless. as soon as the blouse came off, melissa felt herself salivate. her hands almost tingled with the need to touch you, to map out every inch of soft skin and commit it to memory. she held back for the moment, but her resolve was weakening.

"my hero!" you pulled melissa into a quick hug, missing the way her face flamed at the feeling of your almost-bare chest against hers. "can you help me with one more thing?"

you turned around and gestured toward your bra, hoping she would unhook it for you. the bra, too, was soaked through. in the corner of her eye, melissa caught your nipples straining against the damp fabric, and she took pity.

her fingers left goosebumps in their wake as she deftly unhooked your bra, and you smiled to yourself. your plan was working. you may have been high, but you were well in control of your faculties that night. you knew that the time to make a move was upon you, and you wouldn't give up a shot with melissa schemmenti for anything.

confidently, you spun around to face melissa, now completely bare from the waist up. you giggled when you saw her averting her eyes politely. melissa schemmenti, flustered? you never thought you'd see the day.

"what did you bring me to wear? anything good?" your questions forced melissa to meet your gaze and refocus. she knew what you were doing, and it was taking all of her strength to resist pouncing on you like a tiger.

to your pleasant surprise, melissa then tossed you a cherry red oversized tee with black text on both sides. the front read "abbott elementary field day 1999" with the school's mascot; the back had "ms. schemmenti" above a number, like a jersey.

the best part about the shirt? it was warm. melissa must have just taken it out of the dryer. you held the garment up to your chest, in part to preserve your modesty but also to get a sneaky breath of her scent. your heart felt warm and fuzzy, both due to the older woman's tenderness and the sentimentality behind this little piece of abbott history.

"'99 was a rough year for the kids. i called in a favor with my custom t-shirt guy and had those made for field day. my red team won," melissa said proudly.

you pulled the shirt over your head and let the warmth and comfort surround you. melissa gently helped guide the shirt over your arms, smiling when she saw you in her clothes. you looked good in the shirt. for a moment, she let herself fantasize that you were hers.

"mmm, feels so good," you purred in melissa's ear teasingly. you wanted her to snap so badly. "this skirt is killing me. i hope you don't mind..."

it's killing me too, melissa thought as she watched you pull the wet skirt down your legs and off. she felt no shame about devouring you with her eyes—how could she when you were standing right in front of her, bending over and enticing her as you stripped down to your (suspiciously damp) underwear?

"looks like the rain got your panties wet, too," melissa's voice was hushed, but sure. you turned around and let the red shirt fall to cover your ass. you stalked over to her with a sickly sweet smile and leaned in to whisper.

"not the rain, guess again," you never broke eye contact as you awaited her reply, daring her to make a move. melissa drew a sharp breath in.

"if you keep teasin' me, i won't be able to control myself," she almost growled the confession.

"what if i want you to lose control?"

melissa wasted no time. she reached out and cupped your face, then pulled you in roughly for a kiss. the first kiss was gentle, with her lips like pillows against your own and one of her hands migrating down your back. but it soon became clear that melissa was not interested in taking things slow. she had already waited too long for you.

her hands were all over you as she kissed you roughly, tasting every corner of your mouth. you gasped for air when melissa's hands found your ass and gave a hard squeeze. while you were distracted, she pushed you away from the fireplace and onto the couch. she looked ready to devour you whole as she joined you on the couch and descended on your body.

"so," she started, pausing to place several heated kisses on your neck, "you wanna tell me why your panties are wet?"

"i think you know," you breathed out, your shaky voice betraying your neediness.

"oh babygirl, i wanna hear you say it," she purred before latching on to your neck, marking you while she awaited your response.

"you're why. it's you," you confessed, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her.

"i'm gonna need specifics, hon. what about me makes you so wet?"

"i- um..."

"is it the way i touch you? when i feel you up on this couch, do you sit here drippin' down your thighs?"

you nodded profusely, eyes widening and cheeks heating up. she read you like a book. if you weren't so high and desperate, you would have been impressed. but all you could process was the incredible feeling of melissa's hands and mouth finally exploring you without restraint.

her hands slowly migrated upwards, caressing your torso and landing on your tits. she held them and squeezed, kneading the flesh eagerly. when her fingers suddenly moved to pinch your stiff nipples, you let out a pathetic squeal.

"that's a good girl, lettin' me play with you like this," she cooed.

you shuddered, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the praise. melissa, of course, noticed, and she pulled back to look at you with a sly grin on her face.

"found one button," she said, her green eyes sparkling with amusement and arousal. "let's see if i can find another."

her skilled fingers darted down to your panties, on a mission. she watched your face intently as she pressed her pointer finger firmly on your clit through the fabric. you gasped and squirmed, bucking up towards her finger.

"oooh, she likes that," melissa purred. she swiftly dipped inside your panties and began to rub soft circles on your clit. "do you touch yourself like this and pretend it's me? hmmm?"

you managed to choke out a "yes" between moans, and melissa seemed pleased.

"i bet you do. god, you're pretty like this," she mused, increasing the speed of her ministrations. she leaned down to your ear, wanting you to feel the heat of her breath as she worked you up. "you wanna keep wearin' my shirt while i fuck you? so you remember you're mine?"

you whimpered, feeling hot all over as you approached your high far too quickly. when your legs started to shake, melissa withdrew her fingers and sat up.

"lie back and spread your legs for me, pretty girl," she said gently, and you complied. she situated herself between your spread legs and leaned down to get a closer look at your pussy. she guided you to lift your hips, then pulled your panties off and stuffed them in her pocket. using two fingers to swipe through your folds, she spread your wetness around. "you're soaked, honey."

"please, mel. need you," you said, the words coming out as a keening whine. melissa didn't hesitate to give you what you craved. holding your legs open with her hands on your thighs, she dove in, licking through your slit with fervor.

her tongue trailed up to your clit, drawing quick circles around it. melissa seemed genuinely enamored with your pussy, aiming to taste every glistening inch. she alternated between playing with your clit, feeling it pulse and jump against her tongue with every stroke, and sucking on it.

when she felt you trembling again, she doubled down, wrapping her mouth around your clit and sucking on it like it was all she loved in the world. the heat in your lower belly burst and spread throughout your body, and you spasmed against melissa as you came.

while you were still reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, melissa began to tease your entrance with two fingers. her tongue never let up as she thrust deep into you, earning her a strangled cry.

her fingers brushed sweet spots you didn't even know you had, reaching deeper than your own digits ever could. when she curled her fingers to press on your g-spot, you wailed. searching for something to anchor you, your right hand grasped melissa's and your left hand gripped the sheets.

"right there, baby? does that spot feel nice?" she teased, already knowing the answer. before long, your legs were shaking again, and melissa had to lean on you a bit to keep you still. "are you gonna come for me again? i know you're close angel, just let go."

so you did. and melissa was there by your side through every crest and valley, her thumb soothing over the back of your hand while she whispered sweet nothings.

"you did so well for me, hon. my beautiful, good girl..." her words were a whisper that echoed around you, keeping you calm after an intense high.

once your heartbeat started to slow, you opened your eyes and looked at melissa. she gave you a warm smile, her lips shiny with your arousal. overcome with feeling for the goddess in front of you, you sat up and surged forward. you captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

"so," melissa said, panting as she drew away. "wanna smoke another one?"

[final-girl96]

My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Twenty-Five

Stu

"You're going to manipulate me into having sex with you?" She asked. "I don't need to manipulate you, sweetheart. You'll give in just like you did the last time and the time before that." I leaned down and kissed her soft lips. "I'm not the killer. I don't even know who it is." That's a lie. Well, the part of me not knowing who the killer is. I do know who it is. "I just know that I need to make sure you're okay."

"You don't need to be scared of me." I kissed her jaw moving down to her neck and her head fell to the side. I smirked into her skin. "I can feel your pulse picking up," I whispered, kissing her pulse point on her neck. "Do I make you nervous or do I just turn you on? Maybe it's both." She put a hand on my chest and pushed me away.

"Stu, you know this can't work, right? You are a murderer. You killed my mother, our classmates, you tried to kill me and my sister." I went to say something but she continued before I could. "Threatening to kill my sister and my best friend also doesn't help. Especially when two people who went to my college were just killed at a perimire based on what fucking happened. On what you and Billy did."

"It's based on Gale's fucking book, babe. She made you all look like idiots. She's the hero in her book." I sighed and sat up, pulling her with me. "I know what I did and I'm still not sorry about it. But I have nothing to do with what happened at that theater. I mean Phil Stevens and Maureen Evens. I know you're not stupid, sweetheart." She looked at me confused and I rolled my eyes.

"Come on! Think, babe. I'm not the smartest guy but I know when someone is trying to be a copycat! Phil Stevens. Steven Orth. Maureen Evens…." Her eyes grew wider as she finally put it together. "There she is! Why the fuck would I want to recreat Woodsboro?" I asked. "I don't know! To finish what you and Billy started?" She stood up, throwing her hands in the air. "Trust me if I was going to kill any of you I would have by now! And yeah, okay, I use the whole "I'll kill your sister or best friend" thing to manipulate you!

Or fucking try to anyway but you're too smart for that shit. To be honest I don't need to manipulate you into giving me what I want, baby. You want it. You just can't admit it because you're ashamed and afraid." I stood up and walked over to stand in front of her, putting a finger under her chin so she was looking at me. "I could just take what I wanted. You know, force you. But um…I like my dick so…and I couldn't do that to you. Not unless you wanted me to do that.

"I can chase you again but I don't think you'd make it back to campus. It was hard enough for me to wake up and make sure I left your dorm before people started to wake up." I gripped her hips and walked backwards to sit on the couch, pulling her down on my lap. "I don't believe you by the way," she said. I leaned forward kissing her neck. "About what?" She tilted her head back. "About you…umm…that you don't have anything to do with those two students being killed."

"Mm… understandable." I continued to kiss her neck and jaw. "You hurt me, Stu." That made me stop and look up at her. "I know I did. I'm sorry I hurt you but–" she rolled her eyes and went to get up but I held her tight to me. "Come on, baby, I can only say I'm sorry so many fucking times. Let's just pretend nothing ever happened and let me fuck you. I can feel how wet you are."

I slipped my hand between us, pushing her panties to the side and running a finger through her soaked slit. I rubbed slow lazy circles on her clit, running my lips up the side of her neck. "Always so wet for me." She gasped when I slid a finger into her, her nails digging into the skin on my shoulders. I added another finger, continuing to rub lazy circles on her clit and pumped into her. "Cone on, baby, let go for me."

I could feel her tighten around my fingers as I pumped and curled them inside of her, hitting that spot I knew all too well over and over. When she finally came her head fell onto my shoulder. I pulled my fingers out and licked them clean before taking my cock out of my pants. I moved her panties further to the side and nudged her clit with the head of my duck. "Lift up a little for me, sweetheart."

I held her hips as she lifted up a little then I grabbed the base of my cock and lined myself up with her entrance. She slowly sank down on me, mouth open in a silent gasp. "Fuck, you're so tight, baby. Take me so fucking good." I held her down on my until she adjusted to my size before lifting her up and helping her move up and down.

"That's it. Good girl. You feel so good, baby." I lifted her and flipped us so she was laying on back. I pulled almost all the way out and snapped my hips forward pulling a loud moan of my name from her. My hand wrapped around her throat and I brought one of her legs up so it rested on my shoulder. I slid deeper into her thrusting into her hard and slow.

The whimpers and cries of my name fell from her lips. "Doing so good for me, baby. Now be a good girl and come around my cock." I pressed my thumb down on her clit drawing slowly right circles. Her walls tightened me indicating she was about to come. "Come on, baby. Let go." Her walls spasmed around me and tightened even more, making me groan as she came around me.

A few hard thrusts and I was emptying myself inside of her, marking her as mine once again. After we both calmed down I cleaned her up and let her sleep for a couple hours before taking her back to her dorm. "I love you." I kissed her and watched as she walked into the building. I waited outside until I saw a light turn on in her room and then took off.

[malfoysstilinski]

hogwarts express | DRACO MALFOY (smut)

Draco Malfoy x Reader (past harry x reader) 

SUMMARY: Draco fucks Y/N to prove a point to Harry who he knows is hiding in the storage compartment above, watching the whole thing. 

REQUESTED: first of all, i absolutely love your writing!!! ok so you know how on the train in sixth year harry was spying on draco in the compartment? what if draco and y/n have sex in front of him while he’s still under the cloak and draco is like “put on a show.” 👀 i’ve been thinking about this nonstop for days @sapphicnoodle69 

WARNINGS: dirty talk, public sex, choking, oral (both receiving), slut shaming, probably more idk 

MASTERLIST

“Hogwarts,” Draco scoffs, a sneering look on his face as he fiddles absentmindedly with his fingers on the table in front of you, “what a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue for another two years.”

You frown from where you’re leaning your head on his shoulder, your senses consumed by Draco. All you can smell is his expensive cologne and the peppermint of his shampoo, the smooth material of his suit’s blazer brushing your cheek as you stare across at Pansy and Blaise. They look equally as confused as you do. Draco hadn’t been the same since his father had been sent to Azkaban, all thanks to Harry Potter, Draco had said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy questions. 

“Let’s just say, I don’t think you’ll see me wasting my time with Charms class next year,” Draco mutters bitterly. 

Blaise snickers lightly and Draco’s eyes snap to him in an instant-- venomous and daring. It’s the kind of cold look that anybody would dread getting from a Malfoy. 

“Amused, Blaise?” Draco sneers, “We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”

You miss the tiny metallic clanging noise from above your heads, and so do Blaise and Pansy from where they’d sending you questioning looks, as if you should know why your boyfriend’s suddenly acting like the four of you haven’t spent the past six years exchanging all your secrets and hanging out at any free moment you may have. 

Draco knows who’s there. Your ex-boyfriend. His enemy. Harry Potter. He pisses Draco off even more with the way he always stares at you. It gives Draco an idea. 

Draco’s gaze flickers down from the storage racks above your heads and back down at you when you finally lift your head from his shoulder. You reach for his hands that are on the table and pull them underneath innocently. You give his hand a squeeze and keep your fingers intertwined on his lap, watching as his shoulders relaxed slightly beside you. 

The rest of the train journey is less tense. Draco doesn’t suggest anything else as solemnly as he had been, and you all talk about your summers. Well, you, Blaise, and Pansy do-- everybody knows Draco definitely did not spend his summer eating the finest food in France like he usually did. 

As you’re listening to Blaise talk about his mother’s latest fiancé, you feel Draco’s hand snake from your hand and drift to your leg. It’s bare beneath your school skirt, the British September weather not yet cold enough for a pair of tights. You know he’s glad that you decided to get changed early. You shiver at his icy fingertips on your thigh, pursing your lips together when he gives it a rather rough squeeze. 

He glides his hand up and down, leaving goosebumps in his wake as he tries to remain as casual as possible, keeping a hard look on his face whilst he stares at Blaise. You’re also trying to appear neutral, cursing your boyfriend for having such a thing for getting off in public. One day you were going to get caught, and that was the day you would also be disowned by your family. 

He keeps you in suspense for the last hour of the train journey. At that point, the dark green panties that you’re wearing are absolutely soaked, sticking to your pussy and even dampening the top of your thighs. His hand hadn’t left your leg once, trailing close to where you desired him the most, where your clit throbbed and pulsated, and then back down closer to your knee to give you a breather. 

Draco Malfoy was a fucking tease and he would be the death of you-- that was for sure. 

Finally, when the train pulled up at the station, everybody starting to climb off of the compartment, but Draco remained sat where he was, also blocking you in from your window seat. As Blaise and Pansy grab their bags and start to head off, they look back at you both in confusion, wondering why you’re not leaving. 

“You two go on,” Draco mutters, running his hand across his jaw. “Y/N and I have something we need to discuss.”

Pansy gives you a sly smirk and a wink before she grabs Blaise’s arm and practically drags him out of the compartment. Your heart is pounding as you watch Draco slide out of his seat once your friends have left the two of you by yourselves, watching as he moves closer to the carriage door, sliding it shut. He pulls the blinds down next. 

“This might be the last time we get the chance to do this,” Draco smirks as he glances back at you. “Stand.”

You do as he says, watching as he grabs his wand out of his pocket and swishes it, all of the other blinds coming down to conceal you from the outside. Your clit is pulsating so hard and you nearly groan out loud as he starts to march closer to you, rubbing your thighs together for some relief. 

Draco’s hand snaps out to grab your neck, fingers gliding down your soft skin before he digs his fingers in slightly, shallowing your breathing. You whimper as his other thumb drags itself down your lip. 

“I know you’ve been desperate for this,” Draco mutters, releasing your neck and undoing his tie, flinging it down onto the table beside you both. “And you’ve been a good girl for me. Parkinson and Zabini didn’t suspect a thing, did they?”

“No,” you breathe in agreement, “they didn’t.”

“I think my good little slut deserves a reward for being so patient,” Draco mutters, tilting your head with his hand on your jaw, leaning down to press wet kisses to your neck, sucking hard below your ear and leaving a hickey behind as you grip his arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

“Draco...” You pull away from him slightly, finding his silver eyes darker than usual as he stares down at you. “Right here? What if someone comes looking-”

“Colloportus,” he mutters, locking the doors with his wand. “There. We’ll hear if someone tries coming in.”

“And if somebody hears us?”

“Muffliato.” 

That’s enough for you. Especially when Draco’s looking as handsome as he does and when he has that grip on your waist. You know you’re in for a good quickie when he grabs you and whirls you around, forcing you down so that you’re bent over the table that they had just been sat at. 

His hand drifts between your legs where your school skirt has ridden up, exposing your soaked panties. He tuts as he kicks your legs apart with his foot, gliding his lanky fingers up your leg and towards your ass where he lands a harsh smack. You whimper, your hand clasping over your mouth. 

Draco reaches down and dives his hand between your legs, cupping your sex. He pushes your panties to the side and immediately comes into contact with your slick arousal. It coats his fingers and makes him smirk as he glides it between your folds and towards your clit where he rubs circles. When he notices how you’re muffling your moans with your hand, he lands a sharp slap to your clit that makes you jerk unexpectedly against him. 

“If I see you trying to keep quiet one more time then I won’t touch you,” Draco swore, returning to rubbing your clit when you peeled your hand away from your lips. “Good girl. I want to hear those pretty sounds you make.” 

You moan at a mixture of his words and the sensation rippling through your body, your arms stretching out in front of you and trying to grab hold of anything, but there was nothing for you to hold so you simply clawed at the table as Draco drops down onto his knees. 

He whirls you around so that you’re facing him, his face level with your pussy as he yanks your skirt up. He glides your panties down your legs and then thrusts one finger inside your hole, making your breath hitch. You throw your head back, you hands clinging to his bleach blond hair. As another finger slides in, both pumping in and out at a dangerously slow pace, Draco leans his head dow and starts to lick at your clit, looking up at you whilst he did it. 

You moan, bucking your hips. “Draco, please. Please, please. Fuck. Fuck!”

That’s right, Potter. He thinks. This is the closest you’ll ever get to seeing her like this. And it’s all because of me. 

Draco hums against you and wraps his mouth around your entire clit, sucking hard and licking at the same time. It throbs and feels like it’s going to explode, porn-worthy whimpers leaving you as you throw your legs up onto his shoulders, sitting further along the table as he laps up your juices eagerly. 

A third finger slides in and you groan at the stretching sensation as he fucks his fingers into you harder. Your hands move up to palm at your breasts, until Draco grabs your wrist. You huff at the loss of contact. He stands, licking his lip as he pulls his fingers out of you and holds them towards your lips. 

“Suck,” Draco demands and knowing Potter is watching, envying him and wishing that he was the one that had you at his will, makes him smirk harder. 

You respond eagerly, leaning forwards and taking his fingers into your mouth. You look up at him, eyes all wide and innocent that have Draco even harder in his trousers. He swears to Merlin that you’ll be the death of him as your tongue swirls around his digits, licking yourself off of him and cleaning him up. 

“Good fucking slut,” he grows. “Now on your knees. Where you belong.”

You respond quickly, dropping down like he had commanded you to. Without hesitation, you reach for the button and zipper of his trousers, undoing them both. You reach into his underwear and pull his cock out, wetting your lips at the sight. He’s as hard as ever, precum oozing out of the top as he grabs the base of it, smacking your lips with it. 

You half open your mouth, making a moaning sound as he smears it across your lips, leaving his precum behind. Your tongue darts out and you lick it up as he smacks your cheek with it. Your mouth opens wider, sticking your tongue out. Draco thrusts his hips slowly closer, his cock resting in your mouth as you take over, grabbing his shaft and jerking off anything that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

You suck in your cheeks as you bob on his dick, pulling off all of the way to then lick at his tip. Draco’s hand grips your hair like it’s a lifeline, small curses leaving his lips as you take him all the way back in. His tip hits the back of your throat, making your eyes water, but you keep him there for a few second, hearing his breathing grow short at the feeling until you pull him off of you, his cock now covered in your saliva. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Draco mutters, his fingers going beneath your chin and moving with you as you stand up. “And you’re all mine. Nobody else can have you.”

“Mhm,” you moan in agreement as he lays you across the table that you had been at before. “Don’t want anyone else.”

“Not even Potter?” He refers to the boy you’d dated briefly back in fourth year-- the same one that hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you since, even when you were wrapped under Draco’s arm two years later.  

“No, you,” you agree, “Just you. Only you, Draco.”

Draco places runs his tip up and down your folds before he presses it at your entrance, slowly gliding in. You both groan at the sensation. You’d throw your head back if you weren’t already being fucked on the hard surface of the table. Your hands grip the sides beside you, but it doesn’t stop your body jerking as Draco fucks into you hard. 

He’s being rough, clearly trying to prove a point as he watches your body wither beneath him from where he stands at the end of the table. He pushes your skirt back up when it falls down a little, and this time his thumb moves to your clit. Draco smirks when your back arches and you cry out. 

“Draco!” You nearly sob as he slams into you, your soaking heat making sounds that echo across the compartment. “Draco, Draco. Fuck me just like that.”

Draco groans at your words, rubbing your clit harder and slamming in and out of you like it’s his mission. Your walls clench around his cock and have him tilting his head back, a breathy moan leaving his lips as he doesn’t stop his assault on your nub. Everything feels so good-- you can already feel your orgasm coming, thanks to the foreplay earlier as well. 

“You’re so good for me,” Draco growls, glancing down and spitting on your pussy, even though you were already soaked. He rubs it in as he watches his cock drive in and out of your shaking form. “Such a good, pretty, little slut. But just for me.” 

“Just--” You squeeze your eyes shut when Draco hits a certain spot inside you, making you scream out. “Just for you, Draco.”

“Do you hear that Potter?” Draco booms with a laugh, but you don’t process what he’s said at first. “Do you see her? The way she comes undone for me. How she would let me do anything for her?”

You realise what he’s saying after a few seconds and several more powerful thrusts. Your eyes widen, realising that Harry must be snooping around in the compartment-- that was why Draco had been so tense after the small blackout. 

“Draco--”

Draco leans down and hisses against your ear, “Let’s put on a little show for him, shall we, princess?”

You cum. You scream out and throw your head back, the thought of Harry watching Draco fuck the life out of you guiltily filling you with adrenaline and power and even arousal. You claw at Draco’s blazer-covered back as you call out his name, walls clenching around his cock over and over. 

Finally, seconds later, you feel his hips stutter and one last powerful thrust before his cum begins to fill you, hot and fast. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, breathy whimpers leaving your lips as he pulls out of you and yanks your skirt back down whilst you sit up. 

“Petrificus Totalus!” He grabs his wand and shoots the spell at the storage shelves above you. 

You gasp when you hear a thump. You bend down on your knees and pull up the invisibility cloak that Harry had, revealing the boy himself-- paralysed, of course. Draco grabs you and pulls you back, a smirk on his face. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?” Draco spits, grabbing his bag with the hand that isn’t holding you wrist. “Oh, that’s right, she was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin.”

Harry’s seemingly-lifeless eyes just stare back up at the two of you and you gasp when Draco drives his foot down onto Harry’s face, an audible cracking noise filling the compartment. Blood immediately dribbles down his face as Draco releases you to grab the cloak back off the ground. 

“That’s for my father. And stop fucking staring at my girlfriend. I think it might be obvious to you who she prefers now.” He throws the cloak back over Harry, making him invisible again. “Enjoy your ride back to London.”

Draco grabs your hand again and his briefcase and leads you away again, fully satisfied that Potter had learnt his lesson. 

[songbirdsingingthings]

Sweet Escape - Levi Ackerman x Reader

WARNINGS: Angst, Major Injury, Mentions Of Blood

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Hajime Isayama

Part Two - AOT Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5K

It all happened so fast that it caused you to think it wasn’t even real. But, the searing pain in your abdomen told you otherwise. You registered the slightly tickly, slightly itchy feeling of the dry grass as you lay on your back. You could feel the blood pooling all around you, making your shirt and even your pants damp with it. I hope it doesn’t make its way into the ODM gear, you think, turning your head slightly in order to try and peek at the machinery on your hips. Levi will kill me if my blood ends up gumming up the gears.

*Flashback*

“L/N, if you don’t get your cloth moving and your mouth shut, you’ll have stable duty for two months. I hope you know that it will include mucking out each and every stall twice a day, every day.” You cringe a bit at your captain’s harsh tone, quickly picking the little rag up from beside you and making yourself busy by wiping the glass window panes. Captain Levi was always this way, even with his own squad. He wouldn’t stand for loitering or slacking off, which you respected, but he could be an incredible hardass sometimes. You weren’t even making that much noise, murmuring back and forth with your squadmate, but Levi just wouldn’t stand for it. 

“Busted!” Your squadmate whispers, causing you to cover your mouth in order to not voice your giggles. Nonetheless, Captain Levi noticed. Nothing ever really flies past him, does it.

“Lieutenant, is something about that punishment funny to you?” He snarls, causing your head to whip around and face him. The piece of fabric that was previously tied around his head was now lowered, covering the cravat he always wore. Fire burned in his eyes and his expression was dangerous, almost asking you to tell him that it was indeed funny so that he could make your punishment even worse. You stuck to your manners though.

“No sir,” you say quickly.

“Tch,” he scoffs, putting the cloth back over his mouth and turning around so his back is facing you. “Do not leave this room until every speck of dust is cleaned out of here.”

“Yes sir,” you and your squadmate say simultaneously, exchanging worried looks. You waited until the captain left the room and shut the door behind him before you heaved a sigh.

“He hates me.” You state, staring back solemnly at the window that was already clean.

“He doesn’t hate you, he just thinks you’re a bit…” She trails, trying to find a proper word.

“Bad at being a Scout?” You offer. She shakes her head. “Well even if that’s not the word you’re looking for, it’s true.” You huff, now moving onto the armoire in the corner of the room. You let the rag gently trace the intricate carving on it, finding little joy in the indented details that attracted dust.

“Sour! He thinks you’re a bit sour.” She deduces. You look at her with a somewhat hurt expression.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Well I don’t think you’re sour, neither does anyone else.” She reasons.

“But your approval isn’t what I need… not that I need approval!” You say, quickly.

“But you want his, don’t you.” Your squadmate states, earning a groan of dismay from you.

“I don’t even know why! I know I was chosen for his squad for a reason and that my statistics show for themselves, but there is just something in me that demands for him to like me as a person.” At your statement, she bursts out laughing. An incredulous look flashes across your face at her reaction. “What?!” You exclaim, feeling a little self-conscious now.

“Oh nothing, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

It was getting tougher to breathe evenly. You were trying to focus on your breaths; in for six seconds, hold for two, out for seven seconds. Instead, you felt like you were exhaling faster than you were inhaling, providing little air for your lungs. It was like some dust was lodged in there and wasn’t budging. Maybe it actually was dust and all those times that Levi had told you to cover your mouth was for a reason. Your shirt was now fully soaked in your red blood and it started to leak out onto the prickly grass. Please let the others be okay, you think, your eyes still stuck on the azure sky. You could hear the faint yells and screams from scouts in the distance. There would be no chance that anyone would come back to get you, they were too far away. I’m going to die alone with my own thoughts, you conclude, letting tears drip from your eyes as you awaited your lonesome death. The mechanical sound of ODM gear roused you from your thoughts, causing your eyes to dart over towards the commotion. Whoever was using the gear landed quickly and their steps over to you were urgent.

“L/N!” They shouted. Your eyes closed at the voice, finding it quite ironic that the man who hated you the most would be the one to comfort you as you slipped away into the awaiting abyss of darkness. He dropped to his knees beside you and quickly scanned over your body to find the source of your bleeding.

“Levi…” You said, gasping in pain as he removed his cape from his shoulders and pressed it into your abdomen. 

“Hush, brat, we don’t need you exerting any more energy than you have to.” He says, his tone still the harsh one you were used to.

“I’m sorry.” You manage, causing his gaze to lock with your own. He found your eyes to be swimming with yes, tears, but also incredible remorse. His hard exterior fell a bit at this.

“Why on earth are you sorry?” He asks, now taking off his Scout jacket and laying it across you to preserve your body heat.

“I’m sorry that I was such a bad scout… and a bad cleaner… and that I was so sour that it made you hate me.” You finish, giving him a sad smile. Levi shook his head immediately, and slid his body so it was easier for you to look at him.

“I never hated you,” He says softly. Your eyes widen at his words. “You were noisy, and talkative, and sometimes even energetic to a fault… but I never, ever hated you. How could I, when you were such a source of sunshine?” You didn’t make an effort to stop that sob that escaped your mouth.

“Man, I really blew it, huh,” you croak, feeling more lightheaded than before. Levi cocked his head in confusion. “She told me that i’d figure it out soon enough, and now that I have, it’s way too late.” You pause to take a few breaths. “I love you. That’s why I wanted you to see me as capable. But now I’m dying, and your face won’t be the one to greet me after I wake up, even though most of the time you were yelling at me because I overslept.” A strained laugh escaped you as Levi looked at you with despair laced in his eyes. “What I wouldn’t have given to just end this whole thing and leave to live in a flower-filled meadow or somewhere peaceful like that. Wouldn’t that be sweet?” You whisper. Your fingers and toes were growing numb and your body felt cold. You were running out of time. The moment your eyelids began drooping, Levi frantically lifted your head and set it down gently in his lap.

“No, no, no, you keep your eyes open Lieutenant.” He was practically begging you at this point. “I shot a signal flare so the medics will be here soon, just hold on.”

You gave him a grin, but your once pearly whites were now stained with red. Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, ignoring the screaming pain in your side. You saw the blood that your hand was smudging on his cheek, but he made no effort to cringe from it or try and wipe it off.

“You tell them that I wasn’t a crybaby when this whole thing went down, okay? I want everyone to remember me as someone who stood strong in their last moments.” Levi was shaking his head as he reached his own hand up to yours so that he could hold it.

“I’m not gonna do that, because you’re gonna be okay. You do not get to leave me, you understand?” You felt your hand begin to grow wet with his tears.

“Please don’t be sad, Levi.” You ask of him, your eyes pleading. “Can I get a smile? I’ve never seen one on you once, and I think it would look just wonderful on you.” To your loopy surprise, he obliges, sprouting a wobbly, but visible, smile. You were right. He looked wonderful. In the distance, but coming closer to you, you could hear the sounds of horses pulling a wagon behind them.

“See, the medics are right here. Just hold on a little longer!” Levi exclaims, worry still prevalent in his demeanor. You felt people gather around you, but you were too tired to open your eyes. The last thing you felt, before your mind slipped into unconsciousness, was the feeling of Levi’s lips on your forehead. What a sweet escape.

A/N: This could potentially have a part two? Idk, I’m pretty much fine leaving it here like this, but if anyone wants a part two lemme know!

[rreyie]

can I make a request for a reader x connie x jean x sasha fic where reader eats out sasha (or vice versa) and jean and connie are just watching? excited to see what you do with this one 👀

YES YES YES! i’ve been debating doing something like this for a long time but doing sexual stuff with these three could be so much fun :)))

afternoon snack

summary: you eat sasha out while jean and connie watch

warnings: nsfw- voyeurism, exhibitionism, pussy eating, fingering

a/n- hey luvs! this one was a fun one to make but i had no clue how to end it, so i gave this a shot! also this is my first time writing about wlw content, but i tried my best! hope you all like it!! :)))

you had no clue how you ended up here, it just happened.

you, connie, sasha and jean were all hanging out in your bedroom. connie was splayed out in the floor, pillow beneath his head as he read a comic book, jean on a chair sketching something, and you and sasha laying on the bed as you braided her auburn hair.

out of nowhere, your hormones got to you. you pictured yourself between her legs, eating her out as she called out your name like a prayer. your cunt clenched at the thought, feeling a pit grow in your stomach.

so, you started sneaking in some curious touches. around her neck, her waist, even underneath her boobs when you knew for a fact that neither of the men were looking. your fingerpads ever so gently trailed over her clothed abdomen, going a bit lower every time you came back for more.

it was jean who first noticed it- after all, he’s amazingly observant. he could see your hands trailing along her waist, the way sashas mouth was slightly open and the manner in which you looked at her, like it was some well kept secret.

“having fun over there?” he growled. “you don’t have to be all lovey dovey in front of us.”

he tried to act angry, maybe even a little bit disgusted. the last thing he wanted to see were his two girl best friends fucking each other, right?

wrong.

he could feel his pants tighten a bit, cock waking up due to the sudden corrupt thought. quickly, he placed his sketch pad over his crotch, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

your cheeks turned warm at his words, sashas cheeks also turning flush at the statement. your embarrassment soon faded away, seeing the bulge begin to form in his pants.

“hmmm...your little friend down there doesn’t seem to agree with you”, you snickered.

now jean was the one who was red in the face, connie looking up from the comic book to see what the commotion is about.

“the fuck is going on?” he asked.

“sasha and y/n are literally touching each other while we’re in the room.” jean grunted, hoping that his very obvious boner would go away soon.

connies eyes lit up, a smug smile forming across his face.

“okay, okay. i’m sorry if i sound like a pervert but can you guys like... eat each other out?” he asked. “i’ve never seen girls do it, i’m kinda curious.”

“what the fuck connie?” jean asked. “that’s sick-“

“i’ll do it”, sasha says, a growing heat forming in her stomach. “only if y/n agrees though.” she wouldn’t admit to it, but the fact that her two best friends would be watching her give you a little bit of taste turned her on.

you nod. “sure, let’s give these horny fucks something to watch. connie, pull up a chair.”

connie and jean looked at each other with confused faces, but were they going to protest to this? absolutely not. connie hurriedly pulled up a wooden chair with salmon-colored cushions and sat next to jean.

sasha rested her head on the headboard as her hands slid down to her hips and began to remove her pants by the waistband. you helped her out by practically ripping off her shirt, revealing her toned abs and rather large chest that was hidden by her bra.

you could’ve sworn you saw connie drooling while he watched you remove sashas bra, jean beginning to palm himself while you fiddled with the clasp. the white bra fell on the mattress, sashas pale tits now being exposed to everyone in the room.

if connie didn’t have a boner already, he did now. jeans boner only got worse, now feeling the precum trickle out of the head and down his shaft.

sasha pulled off your shirt as you threw it into a random corner of the room, and you discarded your pants along with it. your heat was throbbing at this point, a stain of arousal lining the bottom of your panties.

now you knew sasha was a boob woman, and every single time you showed her your breasts they never failed to amaze her. but this time, she quite literally ripped the bra off of your body with a hunger you’ve never seen in her before. maybe it was the fact that people were watching.

she gave your breast a quick nip before you pushed her against the headboard once again. out of the corner of your eye, jean had a devious grin on his face while connie just gave you two a little smile. both of them were starting to jerk themselves slowly to the sight, both tips red and veins protruding through their shaft. both men had impressive sizes.

now sasha was prettily laid out on the bed, those braids you had made earlier now messy and tangled. you moved your head in between her soft thighs, which she gave you a squeeze with.

you started out by just dipping your tongue in between her folds to collect the juices you had made beforehand. she had a good taste to her, slightly salty and smooth. she tugged at the sheets, letting out a small moan.

you quickly found her clit, inflamed and needy. you gave it a little flick with your tongue.

“oh- more, please...” sasha begged. “need your tongue...”

you looked up from in between her legs, and gave her a pompous smile, your dimples showing along the corners of your mouth. your chin was wetted with her slick, and oh boy was it a sight to see.

without warning, you plunged a finger into her tight hole, sending her hands flying into your locks. sasha moved her hips slightly as you moved it back and forth around her, getting a feel of her soaked walls. she was trying to hard to feel full, but failing miserably.

“nother’ finger”, she gasped. “please- please y/n...”

you stuffed another finger into her greedy hole, just touching on her sweet spot that sat along the bottom. this sent sasha into a frenzy, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, that was now empty with not thoughts except pleasure.

you continued to lap at her soaked cunt, like a little kitten drinking milk from its bowl. though you may have been content at the moment, sasha was becoming continually unhinged at your constant movements.

jean spat on his hand and continued to fist his hungry cock while connie rubbed the tip of his own, spreading more precum along his swollen tip.

sashas thighs began to tremble, you could tell she was nearing the edge. you’d like to tease her, you really would, but now wasn’t the time. you could tell the men were awaiting sashas climax, hoping to cum with her as their fists wrapped tightly around their cocks. their pace was fast, and you needed to hurry things up.

your fingers practically went into overdrive, curling around her sweet spot as she yanked your hair. her tits jiggled ever so slightly as she let out a gasp, followed by a moan that bordered on screaming.

as soon as you knew it, your girlfriend was creaming around your fingers, the milky fluid dripping off of your fingers.

jean and connie hit their climax too, as their white cum spat out of their tips in ropes. connies eyes were rolled to the back of his head, both men were panting as they rode their orgasmic wave out.

“shiiiitt”, jean exaggerated. “that... was fucking hot.” he looked down on his hand and laughed at the load of cum that stained him.

“made me bust a fucking nut too”, connie added in. “what time is it?”

you checked the clock that rested on your nightstand. “bout’ noon. better start heading down to the mess hall.”

sasha seemed to put her clothes on rather quickly, not saying a word to you, or anyone else in the room. you found this questionable, she was normally chatty after sex- telling you what she liked, what she wanted to do next time, all that.

“you’re awfully quiet”, you say to her. “what’s that about?”

sasha sighed. “getting horny makes me hungry, remember?”

you nod. now that you thought about it, sashas appetite skyrocketed after she climaxed. no wonder why she was so quiet.

you four all walk out of the room as if nothing happened, the only mention of what you did came later that night.

“hey, quick suggestion”, jean said. “can we like... do that again? what we did today?”

you and sasha both blurt out a “yeah”, laughter following while you all walked down the hall.

[shockinglysubmissive]

Corruption Collab

A/n I am so excited to be a part of @ultimate-astridwriting​ and @bummie​ Valentine’s collab! I haven’t done much writing in years and I was inspired by both of them. 

Word Count: 2.5k

WARNINGS: *ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP* Edging, Overstimulation, Semi-public, slight degradation, master/pet play

You lay in bed, mind hazy and legs still shaking from the intense orgasms ripped from your body only a few minutes prior. Despite the dull ache in all your muscles, you can’t help but close your eyes in peace. You feel Tetsurou’s breathing slow as he drifts to sleep, and your mind begins to wander to how a new pair of panties led to the best Valentine’s day sex.

“Kitten… I don’t want to force you into this… I just thought… you know… it could be fun since you’ll be in class most of the day.” Your boyfriend hands you a small box. Taking it from him, you hesitate to open it. Tetsurou Kuroo is many things but being nervous around you is not one of them.

“Valentine’s Day isn’t until tomorrow master.” Your head cocks to the side as you untie the ribbon holding the box closed. Inside is a pair of black lace panties. At first glance, they seem to be a simple pair like you already owned. It wasn’t until you lifted them up that you heard the soft thud. A bullet vibrator falls into the box and suddenly it clicks. On his phone is an app that connects to the bullet, so he can not only turn it on or off, also but control the intensity and rhythm of it.

Being a scheming tease, this should not have come as a shock to you. You already knew your boyfriend loved to tease you to the point of tears, and you loved the power he held over you. You’re not even aware that you are smiling until you hear a low chuckle. “I take that adorable face you are making as a yes.”

Waking up to the sudden blasting of your alarm is not the ideal way to start your day, but the small note sitting on top of the panties brought a smile to your face. ‘I’ll be trusting you my kitten, don’t get caught, and more importantly, no cumming without permission. I can’t wait to see you. I love you.’

After getting dressed, a new sensation washes over you. The total uncertainty and suspense caused by never knowing if or when the small toy will kick on. The first class you attend you feel like you may explode from waiting. You feel it putting slight pressure on your already budding clit and a blush creeps over your face when you feel how wet you are without any stimulation. Focusing on your class is out of the question. Your mind is only thinking about your cunny and staying quiet if it were to turn on.

As if on cue, as you stand to walk to your second class an eruption of vibrations shoots through your whole body. The sudden feeling causes you to drop your books, and you have to bend over. The toy pushes further against your clit as a breathy moan escapes your lips. Gathering your books quickly from the floor, you hurry out of the room in case one of the few people left overheard you.

The walk to your next class only makes it worse as the intensity surges to extreme levels and getting you to the brink of orgasm, before dropping off completely. You’re not sure if you are glad or devastated when it shuts off completely. You squirm in your seat, fully aware that your poor cunny is dripping and leaving a wet spot on your chair.

The toy stays off for a bit and you are able to start focusing on the lecture, that is, until you are asked a question. Your usually wonderful boyfriend seems to know the worst times to kick it on because your mind goes blank when you feel a low but constant buzzing between your clenched thighs. You stammer out the best answer you can manage before grabbing your things and making up some lie about being sick.

The buzzing does not stop the whole walk home, and tears burn in your eyes as you hold back what you know could be such a nice orgasm. From the second the toy nuzzled itself against your clit, your whole body has been on edge with anticipation. Such a new and exciting feeling of being left in the dark and having to act as if your cunny isn’t dripping and aching for your master’s perfect dick.

“Home already my kitten? Did your slutty little cunt need daddy to take care of it?” He quips, seeing the way your legs shake at the strain to hold off from cumming. You nod and make your way over to him as he cuts off the vibrations. A small sob escapes your tightly pursed lips but is quickly muffled by his hand resting on your throat and his lips against yours. “I’ve never seen you this desperate that you’re crying already. Does my naughty kitten get off on the thought of someone finding out? Does she want others to see how much she loves her master?” He asks against your lips.

You nod, which makes his hand tighten just a touch. “Use your words kitten. The rule is all questions must be answered verbally. That way I know for sure.” He whispers against your lips.

“Yes master. I’m sorry for forgetting the rules… I just need you to fuck me.” You whine. He smirks a bit and takes a step back.

“So, all it takes to tame my bratty kitten is a little bit of discreet teasing? Or is it because it is Valentine’s day you want to try out being obedient?” His hands tug the bottom of your shirt slightly. “May I see my beautiful girl?” He asks.

You toss your shirt aside, growing frustrated as his large hands barely touch you as his hands trail from your collar bone to your hips. “A little bit of teasing? From the second I put those panties on it has been teasing me.” You whine, bottom lip sticking out slightly.

“That long? You must be soaked and sensitive. I’ll forgive that attitude then.” He laughs, smirking down at you. You swallow hard, knowing that look means you are about to be fucked in the most feral and passionate way imaginable.

You are unable to worry too much about his look since he quickly turns the bullet as high as possible and attaching his lips to your neck. Loud, unfiltered moans spill from your lips as you are backed against the wall and lifted off the ground. His teeth rake slightly against the sensitive skin while leaving deep marks. You feel yourself rapidly approaching your orgasm, hands tapping his shoulders as warning.

“Cum for me Kitten. I want these panties soaked before I even think about giving your desperate cunt my dick.” He growls against your neck, lowering his assault to your chest, unclasping your bra and letting his warm breath fan over your pert nipples.

Even if you wanted to, you would not be able to stop yourself. The panties target your overly sensitive clit, and his tongue swirls around one of your nipples. Your vision spots slightly as your cunny clenches around nothing. The sensation only intensifies when you feel him rutting against your clothed core. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were teased all day. You’ve soaked through the panties already.” He teases, guiding your hand to the wet patch that spread from your cunt to his pants.

Incoherent babbling is the closest thing to a response you can muster as the vibrations continue and force you through another powerful orgasm. Your hands claw desperately at your clothed cunt to try to move the bullet from your abused clit as the pleasure has your head spinning.

He grips your wrists in one of his much larger hands. “If you want something, you need to ask.” He says simply, his free hand reaching to unlock his phone.

“Fuck me. Please master. I need you to fill me up.” You beg, words breaking off as a third intense orgasm is ripped from your sopping cunt. “And turn it off! Please… it is too much… I can’t handle anymore.”

Taking pity on your trembling body, he shuts it off. But before you can relax, you are dropped on the ground, legs wobbling to support yourself. Tetsurou takes your hand and guides you gently to the bed, undressing you, leaving the just the panties before removing his shirt. Your eyes scan his slightly muscular build, smiling a bit seeing the half-faded love bites scattered along his skin.

“See something you like kitten?” He asks, pulling your gaze from his low hanging sweatpants up to his smirking face.

“I already told you, I want you to fuck me. Stop taking your time.” You whine, shivering at the feeling of the cold air on your exposed body. Your eyes go wide when you realize what you said, but it was too late.

In the blink of an eye, he is hovering over you, one hand around your throat and the other holding himself up. His lips lower until they are brushing yours. “I forgave you once for being a brat. And this is how you thank me? After all I have done. The new panties, allowing you to cum three times, and not punishing you when you broke the rules.” He lists, speaking softly against your mouth. His hand tightens briefly as he bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw a whimper from you. “You want me to fuck you? Beg for it, my pet.” He growls before letting go of your throat and pushing himself up to stand over the bed.

“Please. Master please. I’m sorry I broke the rules again. I’m just so desperate for your perfect dick. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.” You babble, sitting up and propping yourself up with your hands behind you. He crosses his arms and looks at you with an uninterested look.

“Is that all you got? Only begging to get that greedy pussy filled. Not a single care about my pleasure? I should have known that gifting you those panties would turn you into a selfish slut.” He says simply, his voice scarily calm despite the harsh words he spits at you.

Dropping onto your knees at his feet you look up at him. “Master… You’re right. I wasn’t thinking… Please use me however you want.” You set your hands on his thighs and gently trace your tongue over the tent in his sweatpants. To your delight, and smile spreads across his face and he grips your hair.

“There is my kitten. You just needed a reminder that this isn’t just about your greedy, naughty pussy. It is Valentine’s day for me as well.” He tugs your hair to guide you back to the bed. Once you are standing at the foot of the bed, he shoves your face into the plush blankets. His hand detangles itself from your hair as he moves away from you. You know better than to move from the position he put you in, only turning your head enough to breath. Your ears perk up as you hear a drawer close near the bed and slight crinkling as a condom is opened.

A low moan from the other side of the room nearly has you moving; however, you hold still, knowing your master would take good care of you for being patient. Sure enough, a few moments later your panties are moved aside, and with a quick snap of his hips he fills you all the way.

He laces his hand in your hair and gives you no time to adjust before setting a torturously slow but brutal pace. He pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back in, the tip hitting your cervix in a way that has you squirming beneath him. His pace quickens as you tighten around him.

Small whines slip from your lips as you tetter right on the edge of another orgasm, but the position youre in offers no stimulation to your clit.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? To be fucked. To be full.” He yanks you back against his chest and growls in your ear. He moves his hand to your throat, but he doesn’t even need to apply any pressure, as you are already gasping for air and babbling.

“C-can’t… I wanna… Please I need to cum.” You beg, hands struggling to rub your clit with the bullet still on top of it.

“Then cum. You have everything you were begging for. I won’t stop you from falling apart on your master dick.” He says simply, a harsh contrast in the way he is rearranging your insides. “You don’t need to touch your silly clit. You didn’t want that. In fact, you were begging for me to turn the toy off because it was too much.” You can feel his smirk against your neck as he alternates between gentle kisses and hard bites.

“I can’t cum without my clit! Just a little bit of contact. Anything. Please.” You beg, feeling his hips stutter as he nears his own release. You let out a small whine as you feel him cumming, leading to him to slow down and pull you away from the edge.

“You want your clit played with? Well, if you insist.” He says, reaching for the phone sitting on the bed.

You knew the mistake you made before he ever touched a button. The bullet shoots to life at its max setting. The most powerful orgasm you have ever experienced tears from your body. The edge of your vision goes fuzzy as you lose any control you had over your voice. Loud moans echo around the room of your apartment as every cell in your body feels like it was touched by heaven. You are barely aware of how tightly your pussy is clenching around him until you hear him groaning.

His hips rock against you as he cums again, feeling the vibrations traveling from your clit. Not wanting to hurt you, he turns it off and slowly pulls out. “Hot bath? Or just a warm rag and sleep?” He asks, kissing your temple in an attempt to gently bring you out of subspace.

“Sleep… please…” You say softly, trying to open your eyes to look at him after he lays you down against the pillows. Standing to get cleaned up, he places a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Can you stay awake for a few minutes? So I can get you clean and get you a cup of water?” He asks. A small pout forms on your lips but you nod, knowing he is right and you need water.

After a few long minutes, you are finally able to hold him close and reflect on the day.

[op-imaginesandmore]

How would Issho/Fujitora, Doflamingo, Smoker, Arlong, and Gin react to their s/o dying in their arms? (human s/o for all of them including Arlong) Sorry there are so many the posts you've made so far I've enjoyed immensely. I love your style of writing! (:

I know it’s been *checks notes* actual years since I have touched this blog, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at a few of the asks I have in my inbox. I’m going to do just Smoker, and with each of the asks with multiple characters I will pick the one I am most comfortable with writing and go from there. I hope you like it! And also, to anyone who reads this and likes it, thank you! But my ask box will remain closed until…idk, probably a long time. I don’t want to get any one’s hopes about about anything.

Pairing: Smoker x GN!reader

Warnings: Angst, character death (you asked for it), mild descriptions of injury, mentions of blood, implied smut (mildest of spice), unbeta’d if that is a warning

***

The OP was supposed to be a simple one. Get in, do reconnaissance, stay under the radar, come back with what info they needed on the pirate crew, get out.

No one thought Big Mom herself was going to recognize Y/N, because you were good at your job. You had been spying for the government for years, you’d worked with Smoker as one of his subordinates, had infiltrated countless pirate crews, revolutionary bases, treasonous scum that thought they could get away with anything, and had always succeeded in your job.

Lay low, go unnoticed, get the info, come back to him. It was a perfectly organized system that was like clock work, each gear turning for the purpose of civilian protection, and justice.

Until now.

Blood soaked the beach he was kneeling on, who’s it was, he had no idea. Could be his, was probably the pirates’ that were scattered around the Vice-Admiral like debris after a storm, but what infuriated him most was it was most definitely yours.

Wheezes, broken and wet, escaped from your lips, swollen eyes looking up into stoic grey that was like looking into twin hurricanes. Anger, righteous and intense, swirled around with frustration, concern, grief, and an emotion you knew from your quiet moments between soft sheets and the hard planes of his body.

So gentle you barely felt it, he lifted you from the sand like something precious, your blood dripping down his arms and pooling beneath your broken body. Your eyes, swollen and bruised, squinted up at him and a soft smile cracked painfully across your lips.

“Hey handsome” you rasped, a cough that was soaked with blood spurting out. Smoker put a large hand through your matted hair, jaw clenching as he tightened his hold on you.

“I’m gonna get you to the ship’s infirmary” he seethed through his teeth, the usual multiple cigars he kept there like pacifiers long gone. He made to get up, but the cry that came from your lips was shrill and heartbreaking. He immediately stopped, holding you to his chest in a hold soft enough for a newborn.

“I know it hurts, but you need-“

“Do you remember Alabasta?”

Smoker stopped, looking down at your broken body that had the audacity to be giving him the smile that always managed to make his heart flutter in his chest like a crushing school girl’s. He swallowed thickly, not trusting his voice and opting for a nod.

“You were such a baby about Strawhat, I thought you were going to implode when he had his crew mate save your life.” You reached a trembling hand to his face, stroking the rough stubble of his jaw. Almost involuntarily, Smoker leaned into the soft touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as memories of their time on the desert island came to mind.

It had been the first time you had ever yelled at him, calling him reckless and blind. Telling him you were thankful for Strawhat, grateful he had saved his “stupid, sorry, ass” so you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. He had retaliated with a practiced speech about being your superior, about how you should worry more about your job than what he was doing, how you shouldn’t talk to him like that.

Then you had the nerve to yell at him that you didn’t have a choice but to worry about him. When he yelled at you back about the why, instead of answering him you kissed him square on the mouth.

Their first kiss was in the moment, it was all teeth clacking and sudden and Smoker had been blindsided, but also hadn’t been. The two of you had been flirting with the line between officer and government agent for months at that point, subtle glances and bold, shameless flirting on your part had morphed into soft and subtle touches and hours of listening to you talk about everything and anything.

When the shock of it had worn off a second after you started kissing him, he hadn’t expected for himself to kiss you back. He had adjusted your chin, softened the kiss, and wrapped his arms possessively around your waist and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his own waist in a way that sent chills down his spine as he carried you to his desk. He set you down upon it, gentle as can be, but your legs stayed around his waist, his hips grinding into yours in a way that had him growling. Your lips had been like soft, plush, velvet on his own chapped ones, tongue sinful in its exploration, running against his to beg for entrance.

The two of you broke apart, you were panting, your face flush as you put your head on his chest and listened to the quick thumping of his heart. He smelled like a cigar, a hint of sweet fruit in a haze of earth and smoke that always managed to make your head spin. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you licked the taste of him from them.

“I worry about you because I care about you Smoker” you looked up at him, your eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the sunlight coming in through the porthole of his cabin “probably more than what’s appropriate for a working relationship, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.” You put your hand on his face, stroking the apple of his cheek in a way no one had ever dared touch him before “if you don’t want this though, we can stop right now and never talk about it a-“

Smoker was kissing you again, softer but with a passion that turned your whole body into jelly that molded into his. It was brief, too brief for your liking but he was looking at you with a smoldering gaze that promised more.

“We do this, we tell no one.” He said with conviction “I can’t have my subordinates thinking I have favorites, and fraternizing could get me and you in a lot of trouble.”

You nodded, understanding alighted in your eyes as you coyly bit your kiss swollen bottom lip.

“If that means I get to see your smoke powers at work in the bedroom, I’ll take an oath of silence”

He felt his body react, his hardened length against your thigh making you squeeze your legs together, bringing him impossibly closer.

Smoker’s chest tightened at the memory.

“I’m glad” you said, swollen gaze growing distant “that it all happened the way it did. The last year and a half has been the best of my life” another cough, violent and cracking in its intensity that it had you whimpering into Smokers chest, and his eyes were burning with the tears that were inevitable now.

“Y/N-“ Smoker started, the deep rumble of his voice cracking “baby, you’re gonna be fine, let’s just-“ he took a breath, steeling himself to try and lift you up again, but your head falling limp against his chest stopped him, made the breath leave his lungs and, for the first time in a very long time, Smoker felt true terror grip his careful self control.

“Y/N?” His voice, so unlike the commanding bass it usually was, soft and broken as the body he held “Y/N? Sweetheart c’mon, wake up” he shook you, your head lolling to one side and then the next awkwardly, before it rested back on his chest and Smoker realized your uneven breathing had stopped, the rasping, painful breaths gone quiet and the only sounds to be heard on the bloodied beach were Smoker’s own uneven hyperventilating “Y/N please! You-you can’t do this! Baby, c’mon-open those pretty eyes, please! Y/N? Y/N!”

He held on tight to your body as he slowly broke down, the tears running rivers down his face that had smudges of your blood on it from holding your body up to it, his face buried into your hair as if he could revive you if he held on a little tighter, begged a little harder to whatever god or devil would listen. His cries broke through the silence, their only companion the lapping of water against the sand and gore. He rocked back and forth, clinging to your lifeless body like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

That was how Tashigi found her Vice-Admiral, sobbing into your hair as he begged you to wake up. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, but she had to keep him moving, had to remind him of the duty he still held.

“Vice-Admiral Smoker?” She breathed, caution in her tone, heartbreak threatening to pull her under when his breath caught. He looked up at Tashigi with a tsunami of emotions that she had never seen him display. Heartbreak and grief worked in tandem to make the ever stoic and statuesque officer crumble to his knees.

“I’ve gathered the survivors of our platoon, we’re awaiting your orders, sir”

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Smoker looking down at his dead lover, the emotions that had been raging across his face draining from his being, and was replaced once again with the careful stoicism that his position required of him.

He got up slowly, you still cradled against his chest as he looked out at the horizon. It was another long moment before he spoke.

“We bury our dead, then we take the fight to the one who started this.” There was a fury in his words that struck fear into Tashigi, a fear for how reckless her Vice-Admiral was about to be against a Yonko.

“But Smo-“

“Did I fucking stutter?” He whipped his head around, the grey of his eyes burning with an unbridled rage that seemed barely contained “I’m not gonna rest until every last piece of filth that carries the name of Charlotte are wiped from every ocean from the East Blue to Raftel.” He glanced down at the body in his arms, a soft, broken look before the rage hit again.

“They’re gonna pay for what they’ve taken, I’ll make sure of it personally.”

[nothinghcppens]

small talk- pietro maximoff

part 2

part 1 here

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: after being apart of the team of super soldiers that hydra experimented on, y/n was one of the successful experiments and had been released to the world. the winter soldier and the siren had become the most prolific assassin duo in the world. but what happens when they get taken in by the avengers? what happens when she meets a particularly fast superhero with an attitude?

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma, alcohol, kissing but like only that, minor sexual jokes

a/n: hi !! i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the love and support of part 1 of small talk and bad liar omg <3 i also wanted to add a taglist to future fics so let me know if you want added it! make sure to specify if you want to be added to the marvel or the harry potter one bc i have a harry potter fic in the works rn! also i’m gonna write a part three that’s just cute bc i want to keep writing this character heheh

“wake up!” splash.

the feeling of cold water hitting your face shocked you awake and you sat up with a gasp. trails of blue flashed from beside your bed and out the door, the clang of a bucket hitting the floor. “pietro maximoff. i am going to kill your speedy ass!” you shouted, jumping out of bed. not even caring that you were only in a t-shirt and shorts, you chased after him, following the blue light.

the trails stopped eventually, and so did you. you glanced around, listening for any sign of him. you crept over to one of the couches and grabbed a pillow as a weapon. “where are you?” you called, i’m a sing-song voice.

you walked around the room, “come on, don’t hide from me now.” the faint sound of his breathing was heard along with the dripping water from your hair and t-shirt. you followed the sound of his shallow breaths to the island in the kitchen. you dropped the pillow, climbed up on the island and crawled across it before swung your head over the edge, in front of his. “hey there.

he gasped, “shit.” you flipped your hair back up and sat back on your knees. pietro stood up and turned to face you before bursting into fits of laughter.

“i don’t know what’s funny.” you mumbled, glaring up at him.

“yes you do, you look ridiculous.” he huffed between laughs.

“i won’t look ridiculous when i’m putting a bullet through your head.” you spat.

“calm down, love. it’s only a bit of fun.” he said.

“i was sleeping piet!” you protested. you moved your legs so that they were dangling off the edge.

“okay, i’m sorry. i’m sorry!”

“you better be. i’ll get you back though.”

he stepped forward and leaned his hands on the island, on either side of you. “will you, yeah?”

his head was an inch away from yours, you could feel his breath against your face. you saw his eyes drift from your eyes to your lips and back up again. he leaned in slightly and your breathing quickened. “what’re you doing?” you whispered.

“what do you think i’m doing?” he replied in the same hushed tone.

“something you should’ve done a long time ago.” you leaned in towards him, lips almost touching.

“good morning!” cap announced, walking into the kitchen, looking at his phone. you two broke apart quickly, pietro speeding and grabbing you a glass of orange juice and ten occupying himself by looking at something in the cupboard.

“hey cap.” you croaked, voice uneasy from the nerves coursing through your body. “morning steve.” pietro greeted, closing the cupboard and standing next to you on the counter. steve didn’t look up from his phone and didn’t notice your wet hair and clothes

“how’s our newest recruit?” he asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the shelves.

“steve, i’ve been here for like 6 months!” you complained.

he put the mug in the coffee machine and pressed a few buttons, “and? you’re still the newest.”

“might be the newest but i could still take you down old man.”

“don’t get too cocky kid, i think pietro’s rubbing off on you.”

“ew i’d rather go back to being tortured than be like him.” you joked.

“how dare you! you know you love being around me.”

you made fake gagging noise and steve let out a laugh. he finally turned around and looked at you two for the first time this morning.

“oh- uh y/n? what happened, why are you soaked?” he asked, averting his eyes from you. your eyes widened in realisation that you were wearing little-to-nothing in front of your captain and your t-shirt was clinging to your body.

“pietro is a dick is what happened.” you said, pushing yourself off the table. “if you’ll excuse me, i’ll go make myself decent.”

“you look decent all the time, love!” pietro called after you as you began to leave the kitchen. you swivelled round and flipped him off with both hands before leaving the room.

———

“do you remember when-“ you let out a giggle and pointed at bucky, “when we had to kill those french agents and you-“ another laugh, “you fell over a wall! god i mean because my brain was mush i couldn’t laugh but looking back on it that shit was hilarious!”

you and the team were recalling old missions gone wrong, with the assistance of alcohol obviously, and you were telling a story about you and bucky- much to his dismay.

“i didn’t fall.” he protested, taking a swig from the bottom of beer in his hand.

“so what happened then? did the sidewalk just crumble?” you questioned, laughing loudly. the rest of the team sat observing the interaction, large smiles across all their face. pietro sat to your left with his arm around your shoulder, a drink in his other hand.

“okay. maybe i did fall.” bucky mumbled causing a roar of laughter from everyone. “but, remember how we were running through a forest in, where was it again?-“

“bulgaria.” you said, already knowing where this was going.

“bulgaria! yes. and it was raining so it was super muddy and you got suck in the mud!” he laughed.

“you left me there! i had to drag myself out.” you complained.

“well we had a mission to complete! you would’ve done the same.”

you rolled your eyes, “you’re right. i would have.” you felt pietro laugh from beside you and you smiled at him. “time for a refill.” you announced, pushing yourself up off the sofa. you wandered to the kitchen and took the bottle of wine on the table and poured some into your glass. due to the alcohol already in your system you spilled a little on the counter, “shit.” you muttered.

“need some help there?” pietro asked.

“i can pour wine myself thank you very much.” you retorted.

“i think the table disagrees.” he chuckled.

“shut up.” you groaned. pietro sped from the door to grab a towel and stopped behind you. he reached over your shoulder and wiped the spilled wine up. his breath was hot against your neck. you turned around, wine glass in hand, and looked up into his eyes. his hands remained on either side of you.

“this is the second time we’ve ended up here.” he mumbled.

“good observation, captain obvious.” you teased. pietro rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh.

pietro took his right hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, staring into your eyes. he kept his hand on the side of your head and leant in slightly for the second time in the past week. your breathing deepened and your heart was thumping against your chest. you tilted your head up towards his head and your lips were almost touching, just as they were a few days ago

“y/n! can you get me a whiskey before you come back?!” tony called from the other room.

pietro groaned in frustration and pulled away from you, tilting his head up. “i’m going to kill those avengers.”

“good luck with that speedy.” you said, tapping his chest lightly.

he stepped away from you, letting you leave his embrace to get tony a drink. after pouring him a glass of whiskey and grabbing your glass of wine, you and pietro entered the room filled with your team. his hand was placed in the small of your back, guiding you back to the sofa.

you handed tony his drink and he smiled at you, “thanks kid.”

pietro sat on the couch and you flopped down beside him, his arm resuming its place of around your shoulder. you swung your legs up and across pietro’s legs, earning a few looks from nat and clint. they looked at each other and raised their eyebrows with a smirk.

steve and bucky were telling a story of a party they went to in the 40s and how bucky had to drag him to dance with these girls they met. you took a sip of your drink and noticed pietro’s eyes glancing at your lips, “want a sip?” you asked, smirking because you knew that’s not what he was looking at.

he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and sighed, “watch it, y/l/n.”

“oooooooh we’re on last name terms now?” you teased, smiling.

“yeah if you keep pissing me off we will be.”

“don’t be so easy to piss off.” you replied.

he leaned over and whispered in your ear, “cant help it. i’m frustrated.”

you pushed out your bottom lip in an overdramatic pout, “boohoo.”

tony then shot forward in his seat and clapped his hands together, “tomorrow you two,” he said, pointing at you and bucky, “are gonna have a little fashion show, i’ve been working on some suits for you guys and i need your input.”

“wait really?” you asked.

“yup. i’m not having you two going on missions in your hydra gear.” he explained.

“shit, thanks tony.” bucky replied.

“where’s my suit?” pietro questioned.

“you’ll get on eventually. your girlfriend is just a little more improtant.”

“i was here first.” he protested.

“girlfriend?” you asked at the same time.

“wait your turn, turbo.” tony said.

pietro scoffed and everyone laughed at the interaction.

nat stretched her arms behind her head and yawned, “alright losers, i’m going to bed.”

“yeah, me too.” clint added.

eventually everyone had made their way upstairs and all that was left was you, tony and pietro.

“okay. what’s going on here?” tony asked, wagging his finger between you guys. pietro’s hand was now resting on your leg which was still across his.

“nothing.” you said.

“uh huh? yeah that bullshit doesn’t work on me kiddo.”

“piet, sure nothing has happened.” you glanced at him and a look of annoyance crossed his face.

“yeah stark. nothings happened.” he replied through gritted teeth.

“well if anything does happen, stay safe.” he winked at you two, “and if you hurt her, speedy, she’ll probably hurt you back worse.”

you laughed, “hell yeah i will.”

“oh i know you will.”

“goodnight .” tony said as he stood up from his chair and left the room.

you swung your legs off pietro and stood up, “well goodnight piet.” a smirk grew across your face as you began to walk away.

“nope.” he stated, grabbing your wrist and turning you back around. he pulled you onto his lap so you were straddling him, legs on either side of him. he placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled your head towards his before crashing your lips onto his.

the kiss was heated, after being denied it twice before. your hands moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck and his moved to your waist. his fingers dug into your hips causing you to moan slightly, he took this opportunity to intertwine his tongue with yours.

eventually you broke apart, both gasping for air. you placed your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to do that.” he muttered.

“worth it?” you asked, teasing him.

“nope.” he joked.

you leaned back and glared at him, “you bitch.” you leaned in and kissed him again, running your fingers through his hair and pulling it slightly. he groaned against your lips and you smiled through the kiss, enjoying the effect you had on him.

pulling away for the second time, you both had content smiles on your faces. you leaned your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, “you’re comfortable.”

he let out a hearty laugh, “thank you?”

“it’s a compliment, i could sit here forever.”

suddenly you were no long sitting on top of him, you were being picked up and whisked through the building. your hair blew around until you stopped and were in your room. “what just happened?”

“i’m tired and the couch didn’t seem good to sleep on.” he explained.

“woah, woah, woah. who said you’re sleeping in my room?”

“i did.” he stated. using his powers he stripped himself down to his underwear and jumped on your bed, under the covers.

“i regret kissing you. you’re a pain in the ass.” you complained.

“and you called me a bitch?!” he exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes and grabbed your pyjamas that were at the foot of your bed and walked to your bathroom.

“where are you going?” he asked.

“getting changed, i don’t want you watching.”

you closed the door to block out his protests and quickly got ready for bed.

“hurry up.” pietro called.

“stop complaining or i’m going to sleep on the couch.” you replied, opening the door and leaning against the doorframe. pietro was sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes raked over your body and a small smirk grew on his face. “eyes up here pretty boy.”

he laughed and pulled back the cover before patting the spot next to him, signalling for you to join him. you shuffled over and slid into the bed. pietro wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“so much for the whole tough super soldier act, you’re a softie at heart, aren’t you love?” he muttered in your ear.

“anymore of that and i’ll suffocate you in your sleep with this pillow.” you replied, closing your eyes and relaxed into his embrace.

“no you won’t. you’re too soft.” he teased.

“pietro. i’m warning you.” you yawned, “i don’t care how good looking you are i will kill you.”

“good looking huh?”

“fuck off and go to sleep.” you spat.

“sweet dreams, y/n.” he said with a small laugh.

“yep they won’t be about you.” you murmured, before dozing off to sleep.

———

“i knew it!” nat squealed. you squeezed your eyes close and then opened them, blinking rapidly. pietro lay behind you with his arm draped over your waist. he groaned against your neck and looked over his shoulder at the team standing at the door.

“piet what’s going on?” you grumbled, too tired to sit up and look for yourself.

“so when did this happen?” cap asked.

you finally turned over and sat up, seeing everyone stood in your room. “what the fuck? get out my room you creeps!” you shouted, grabbing the pillow behind your head and throwing it towards them.

“oh come on kid, when did it happen?” he repeated.

“none of your business steve.”

“we’re not leaving until we find out.” clint added.

“you’re awfully quiet little brother, nothing to add?” wanda said.

“i cant believe this.” you muttered, lying back down.

“last night, happy? but all we did was kiss okay, nothing else.” you explained.

“yet.” pietro stated. you elbowed him in the stomach and he winced at the impact.

“so are you two together now?” nat asked.

“well we haven’t had the chance to speak about it because you guys ruined our morning!” you exclaimed.

“what’s going on?” bucky asked, rubbing his eyes. he peered in over everyone and laughed, “nevermind.”

it seemed that pietro had had enough too so he sped out of bed and pushed everyone outside the room, closed the door and locked it. “much better.” he said.

you heard the murmurs of everyone outside, “use a condom!” clint shouted. footsteps retreated from your door as everyone left to go about their day.

“i’m moving out i can’t live here anymore.” you groaned.

“it’s not that bad, you’ve got me.” he said, crawling back onto the bed and lying on top of you. you wrapped your arms around his head and played with his hair.

“so are we like together now?” you asked, mocking natasha’s previously asked question.

“would you like that?” he asked.

“god no.” you joked, “obviously dumbass.”

he lifted his head up and leaned in to kiss you.

“nope. you’ve not brushed your teeth.”

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Three Nights (Unconditional sequel)

Night Two

05/25/2021

Pairing: August Walker x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 1,807

Warnings: hormones, sex during pregnancy, fingering, vaginal sex, slight dom!August, dirty talk, language

Summary: In the middle of her second trimester, Mrs Walker is a hormonal mess. One night, she finds herself in dire need of release, but August just won't wake.

A/N: Next part of the sequel coming right up and things are getting a little steamy...

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

(I couldn't find the source of this picture, so if anyone happens to know, please tell me.)

“August?”

Expectantly she listened into the silence. Nothing. Well, at least if one didn’t count his steady breathing and the rolling of the waves in the distance.

“August,” she tried again, a little louder this time. But still he didn’t move. Measuring her options, she watched his face in the pale moonlight that fell through the open windows. He looked so peaceful, and she envied him his deep slumber. How was he not even sweating in this clammy heat?

Finally, the curtains swayed in a breeze of night air, making her hope for a little refreshment, but it only brought more of the sweltering humidity. With a thud, her head fell back into the pillows, underlined by a frustrated sigh. Slowly her hands drifted over the already rather prominent bump that had once been a delightfully squishy part of her body.

“You know this is really only your fault, right? As if the bloody nausea hadn’t been enough in the first place, now you decide to torture me with everlasting horniness instead. Is it too early to say that you’re taking after your father completely?”

But instead of an answer, another gush of wind rolled over her sensitive skin, the sensation alone enough to make her moan as it coaxed another wave of desire to roll through her. This was insufferable, she thought, as she propped herself up on one elbow again. Why wouldn’t he just wake up? At every other time, he picked up on her horny state with the precision of a bloodhound. Damned be his stupid sound sleep.

She bit her lip as a thought crossed her mind. She would most likely regret this and in the end it would probably hurt her more than him. But desperate times demanded desperate measures, and by now she was willing to do almost anything if he only tended to her need and got his dick inside of her promptly.

“August!” she almost yelled and with a swish, her hand cut through the thick air until it came down on his cheek with a harsh slap.

Roaring at the top of his lungs he was wide awake in an instant. And before she could fathom what was happening, she found herself on her back, wrists pressed into the pillow next to her head by his strong hands, furious eyes glaring down at her wildly.

“You’re lucky you’re carrying my child, woman, or you might have found yourself bend over my knees by now to receive your adequate punishment.”

She could feel her walls clench violently around nothing by the mere thought of him having his way with her like that. And before she even had the chance to hold it back, a needy whimper escaped her lips.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, very much.” She bit her lip again and it didn’t escape her notice how his grip on her loosened a bit, his eyes softening equally upon her eagerness.

“Is this why you woke me up?”

She nodded, shooting him a perfect pair of doe eyes. “Bloody hormones won’t let me sleep, Augie.”

With a huff, more of the tension left his body. “At least that would explain why you thought it wise to slap me awake.”

“What else was I supposed to do? I did try the nice way, but you just wouldn’t wake up and my panties are literally soaked.”

He growled lowly in the back of his throat, making her clench even harder.

“Are they now?”

Careful not to put his weight onto her body, he clutched both of her wrists in just one hand. He grinned smugly and she knew immediately that she was in trouble. The best kind of trouble. And while she still couldn’t believe that her ludicrous plan had actually worked, his free hand dipped down between her legs without a warning, forcing them apart to grant him better access. Lazily, he dragged his fingers through her folds, stirring the fire inside of her with minimal effort.

“Now that’s disappointing.” What? Having expected his praise, those words of displeasure made her heart fall instantly. But he wasn’t done scolding her, yet. “First you hit me like a bloody lunatic and now you have the audacity to lie to my face so shamelessly, princess?”

“I’m not lying,” she croaked, feeling utterly sorry for herself as she saw her chances for satisfaction dwindle, “My juices are practically flowing over.”

But August’s face stayed unreadable, giving her no hint at all where this was going.

“Oh, no doubt about that,” he finally stated after a long minute of silence.

Wrinkling her forehead in confusion, she was forced to watch helplessly as his face came closer. She could already feel his searing breath on her lips, closing her eyes in anticipation of a redeeming kiss, when he turned his head only the fraction of an inch before contact and dove down into the crook of her neck.

“But your panties aren’t soaked at all, princess, because actually, you’re not wearing any.”

The hunger in his impossibly low voice would have been enough to make her dizzy, but when he bit down on her neck with purpose her body reacted of its own accord. Her back arched violently, pressing herself into him while a deep moan told of her want for more. And when she suddenly felt his fingertips press into her entrance, she knew that his whole act of disappointment had simply been for show. A distraction, so that he -

Oh God, his fingers were filling her so perfectly. Deeper and deeper he sank into her until he was buried three knuckles deep. With a gasp her eyes flew open again and she almost missed his next sentence above the white noise that rushed in her ears.

“You know, you’re really lucky, my painfully aroused angel. Because your sweet little pussy is far too wet to worry about such minor details now.”

His fingers had picked up a steady pace, sliding in and out of her sensitive womanhood pointedly. It was a good start, she thought, but by far not enough to sate her craving. As always, he enjoyed teasing her more than anything. But unlike every other time, tonight she wasn’t in the mood for his teasing, not in the agonising state she was in.

“August, please,” she whimpered. “You promised to make it better, not worse.”

Unimpressed by her words, he continued his slow ministrations, his mouth nipping and sucking its way from her shoulder to her ear.

“You must be mistaken,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft spot right underneath her ear that made her shiver. “I can’t remember making a promise like that at any point.”

Another wave of frustration took hold of her as her brain registered his repeated rejection. Straining against his tight grip, she was practically begging by now.

“Please, I…”

“Say it!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

No, she wouldn’t let him have this triumph, even if he chose to deny her the satisfaction she longed for because of her disobedience. In that case she would have to tend to herself, but under no circumstance would she let him tease her anymo - oh.

Holy shit. She didn’t know how this was possible, but it somehow had escaped her notice altogether that his head had abandoned its spot next to hers and had dipped down to pay his attention to one of her oversensitive breasts. And before she would lose her mind completely, she cried out in a state of utter desperation.

“I need you to fuck me, August. Please. Let me feel your hard cock deep inside of me or I’ll go insane.”

In the blink of an eye he stopped, his hands and mouth retreating as soon as she had finally said the words, giving her some time to calm down a little.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, princess, was it?” he whispered smugly. “Now let me deliver you from your agony.”

Her senses still in overdrive, she felt too weak to even move, but that didn’t matter anyway because, as always, August took care of her. Gently he moved her around until her body moulded into his perfectly. His warm chest lay against her back, his arm offering her a comfortable place to rest her head, and soon she could feel the claiming press of his promisingly hard length. With no effort at all, he sank into her, and finally, finally the excruciating unease inside of her ebbed away.

“Shit, I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet, darling.” His hot breath fanned across her neck, setting her on fire.

“I’ve also never been this pregnant and this horny before,” she moaned, her hand finding his on the cool sheets, entwining her fingers with his as he slowly started to move.

“Don’t worry. I promise we’re going to change one of these two in no time.”

And eager to keep his promise, his free hand dove down to the junction of her thighs, granting himself access to her bud. Carefully he pressed down, opting for drawing slow, deliberate circles. She was so hypersensitive as of lately and he was determined not to overdo it like last time. But judging from her elaborated breaths and the tell-tale sounds that fell from her sweet mouth, she was enjoying herself genuinely.

“August.” His name rolled over her lips with a shiver while his mouth tended to the sweet spot on her neck. Argus-eyed, he monitored every movement, every noise she made. Her relief was all that mattered to him now. But the first beads of sweat were already beginning to form on her forehead, triggering his worry in mere seconds.

“Should we stop?”

“No!” she almost cried out as if she was in pain. “Please don’t stop. I’m so close.”

And as soon as she had uttered the words, she could feel the eagerly-awaited tension inside of her build. Every thrust, every kiss he left on her overheated skin, every groan that rolled through his chest brought her closer, pushing her closer towards deliverance. And when she finally passed the point of no return, she turned her head to find his lips while the redeeming pleasure rolled over her enraptured body. And just when she thought she would pass out from all the bliss, she could feel his response.

He was sure that she had never climaxed this hard, her walls gripping him so tightly that the sensation caught him completely off guard. Speeding up his hips, he allowed himself to give in as well. And while his mind gradually clouded over, he grabbed her belly possessively in his last moment of clarity and for the first time, he could feel a sign of the life that was growing inside of her.

Part 3

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @agniavateira

[eclipsedpascal]

Lavender Bruises

Older!Duncan x Female reader

A meeting with you and your father’s company’s buyers, leads to the shocking realisation that you had unknowingly slept with it’s new owner, Duncan Shepherd, just the night before. You needed to hide this sinful secret from your father, which left you stuck between wanting to make him proud and the unsatisfied craving you couldn’t ignore for Duncan to claim you as his personal toy. But you could manage both. Right?

Warnings: mentions of work (ew), alcohol, one night stands, large age gap, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, public sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), intercourse, spit kink, slapping, spanking, hickeys, bruising, degrading/teasing, mouth fucking with fingers? is that a thing?, hair pulling and a ring kink ig:)

Notes: I've been writing this for fkn MONTHS now bcs I kept loosing inspiration, so this is actually the first thing I ever properly wrote! it's kinda complicated ig? idk like the parts in bold are a time skip to the night before and the fic goes in-between the meeting the reader is at and the previous night, meaning there’s two separate smut scenes so!!! but yeah i'm a whore lmao. Also ik hickeys don’t show up the same on certain skin tones and i’m sorry for that. i tried my best to be as inclusive as possible nd didn’t mention anything to do with the skin tone. Also!! if you're interested, I was listening to Cherry lips by garbage most the time I was writing this nd I feel like it fits it pretty well😌

Word count: 8.4k

●●●●●●●●

Going over the logistics of a content deal with the conglomerate that had recently bought your fathers newspaper wasn't the most preferable way for you to spend your lunch, but unfortunately it was necessary.

You know how these “lunches” go; business meetings disguised as casual discussions. They’re exactly the same if taken place in a conference room. Disagreeing and having to come to compromises you’d rather not, with the only differences being there's more chatter and cluttered noise of dinnerware coming from the restaurant around you.

You much preferred being in the office for these kind of things, but it was at the request of the new owners that you meet here, meaning you didn’t really have choice.

As you arrived at the restaurant you saw your father inside, waiting for your arrival just past the main entrances oversized, glass doors. You were almost 10 minutes late now and you knew he would be pissed. Honestly, you couldn't blame him.

Having to rush through a traffic riddled DC to get home at 10 in the morning because you had spent the previous night in a strangers hotel bed wasn't your proudest moment. Was it worth it? Yes, but it didn’t exactly leave you with much time to prepare for the lunch only two hours later.

You payed the driver and stepped out of the cab onto the drowning, wet sidewalk, desperately trying to shield yourself from the relentless rain that had been pouring down on the city all morning.

Looking up at the grand building on front of you, you could tell the place was going to be expensive. The entrances steps were 12ft wide and made of a pearly white marble that was now soaked with cascading rain water, making them even harder for you to run up in your heels as you tried escape the cold.

“Y/N, where have you been? You're 10 minutes late and these people don't like to be kept waiting." The people your father was referring to? the owners of Gardner Analytics. they had bought what seemed like hundreds of press company's over the past few years, especially those in the DC area. Their most recent purchase being the Washington herald, of which your father was the Editor-in-chief. You had been working there for a few months as your fathers assistant and helping out at these meetings had become routine.

“I'm so so sorry, my alarm didn't wake me and I-“

"It's fine" He interrupted "It's fine, just please tell me you have the documents I asked you to bring?" You could tell he was stressed out from the way his voice was wavering and how often he was stumbling over his words, so instead of trying to explain yourself any further you stayed quiet and did your best to take in as much of the information he was relaying onto you as you possibly could.

As he led you through the dinning room he explained to you who else was there, telling you that the others from the herald who were attending the lunch had already began talks with Gardener Analytics at the table ten minutes prior.

The closer you got to the table the more your fathers voice faltered, trying to round off the conversation so he could properly introduce himself when the time came. "Now Bill Shepherd had to cancel last minute, said it was something to do with his health unfortunately. But not to worry! I've spoken with him over the phone and he's informed me his nephew is filling in for him, okay?”

Before you even had a chance to reply he turned from you, reaching over the table to shake hands with a man you recognised as Seth Grayson; their director of communications, and an older woman who you assumed was Annette Shepherd. She and her brother Bill were the owner's of Gardner Analytics and your father had said it was important he got on their good side.

As your father greeted the others, you began retrieving the documents out of your bag, knowing they would be needed by Seth right away.

"..So sorry for the delay Mr Shepherd, you know how DC traffic can be" Your father chuckled slightly as he shook the man’s hand, making some light small talk. Mr Shepherd? that must be bill’s nephew, you thought.

You felt even more unprepared now; you didn’t even know the man’s name.

"This is my daughter and assistant, Y/N" Upon hearing your father introduce you to the mystery Shepherd, you slotted the documents under one arm and reached out to shake his hand with your other.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shepherd" But as you shifted your gaze up to his own, you realised that there was no need for introductions.

He smiled gently, a kind of smug delight obvious in his eyes as he looked you up and down, taking you all in. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/L/N"

He released your hand from his grasp, moving to clasp his own behind his back. “But please, call me Duncan.”

Duncan fucking Shepherd. how could you be so oblivious? The two of you had spent hours together last night. How hadn't you figured out who he was? As panic ripped through you like a wildfire, you wondered if Duncan was feeling the same way; but from the look on his face, he was enjoying this.

●●●●●●●●

11:34pm previous night

It was getting pretty late now, and meeting someone who could fuck the stress out of you was becoming less and less likely by the minute. so deciding to finish your drink and leave, you took in the room one last time; making sure you hadn’t missed anyone interesting.

The fluorescent red and blue lighting of the expensive hotel bar was just bright enough for you to spot an older man you hadn’t noticed before. He must have been at least 40. He was sat in a booth with five or six others, all drinking, laughing and joking, yet he was staring at you.

Taking the seat next to you, he called out to the bartender. “Bourbon. Neat.”

You'd been waiting for him to come over ever since you saw him. It had been 20 minutes or so of quick glances and smiles to each other before the group of men he had been with dissipated. You had heard one of the men he was with refer to him as ‘Duncan’ when he had said his goodbyes, but other than that all you could assume about the man was that he was rich; judging by the all black LV suit he was wearing.

"Can I buy you a drink?” Turning to face at him when you heard him speak, you were practically stupefied by how attractive he was. His hair was full of shiny grey streaks that aged him. His stubble complimented his cheekbones perfectly and the speckles of grey throughout it helped bring out the brightness of his piercing blue eyes. His lips were full, and you couldn't help but notice how soft they looked.

“Vodka and coke” You smiled, trying your best to be confidant, but they way he was looking at you was giving you butterfly's you couldn’t swat away.

“I.D?” The bartender asked. You grabbed it out of your purse, proving your age to the bartender before watching him walk away to make your drink.

There was a brief silence before the man spoke again. “I hope my staring didn’t bother you, I just couldn’t take my eyes off you.” His flattery almost made you blush, but he wasn’t going to get you with a line that bad.

“Didn’t bother me at all, though i’m sure your friends there must have been envious” You chose to ignore his cheesy line, knowing that as much as you wanted him to take you there and then, you would much prefer making him work for it.

He chuckled slightly, knowing the game you had chosen to play. he looked away from you and down into his glass before taking a swig of the golden-brown liquor that occupied it. “Well I’m known to be quite a busy man, so I’m sure they understood.” He turned to face you slightly, waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

“Busy enough of a man to be drinking on a Tuesday night?” You questioned him teasingly, Ignoring that you yourself had the most important meeting of your young career in just over twelve hours.

“Is that really such a surprise? Most times being so busy is the main reason for drinking” He joked with you as he flirted, making it hard for you to keep eye contact without going red at the thought of such a beautiful man seeking your attention.

Duncan could see how nervous you were under the confident demeanour you had put on, I mean you were practically screaming it out to him at this point. The way you were fidgeting with the chain of your silver earring as you leaned against the bar and the fact you couldn’t even look at him for longer than 3 seconds without blushing was evidence enough for him.

“Well, that’s true.” You giggled a little as you spoke in your anxious state.

Taking a hold of your drink, you wrapped your lips around the paper straw and moved your gaze over to the bartender who was now serving someone a few seats down, attempting to distract and ground yourself from the situation at hand.

You were gripped back into reality quickly when you heard him speak again.

“There’s no need to be so nervous, I’m not going to eat you.” You found his use of the phrase quite ironic, being that’s exactly how it seemed. His eyes were piercing into you in an almost questioning manner, but when he gazed over your body, taking in your satin, black slip dress covered curves, the swipe of his tongue against his plump bottom lip gave you a very different impression; an impression he wanted to devour you. It was as if he thought you were that sweet snack he had been craving all week.

“No? That's a shame” You faked a frown, pouting as you moved to rest your chin on your hand.

“Well I think we should at least be aware of each others names before making such wild propositions, don’t you��?” His smirk never seemed to leave his face as he spoke.

He was good at this game, better than you at least. Of course It was obvious he was going to have had more experience with his age and all, but the way he was charming you so easily with just plain old conversation and confidence was getting harder and harder to match.

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” You batted your eyelashes at him a little, for some reason feeling smaller upon revealing your name to him. You felt as if you had lost the upper hand in the conversation suddenly.

“Hm, Y/N. That’s beautiful.” You rolled your eyes. Of course it is. Thats what they all say. You thought.

“Aren't you going to ask mine?” His ego now showing, you decided to make a bolder move.

“You rather fancy yourself, don’t you, Duncan?”

He finished his drink and moved closer to you. “Oh, so you already know my name?”

He was close enough to you now that you could make out the many beauty marks which decorated his cheekbones and hear the rasp of his voice even better than before. It was thick as honey and just as sweet too.

“I heard your friend call you it.” You quickly replied.

He scoffed a little, finding amusement in what he was about to say. He brought his face down closer to yours and began to run his fingers through your hair. “Hm, well he’s an old friend sweetheart. Most people would call me Mr Shepherd.”

You felt yourself grow hot, Duncans words casting a haze of complete lust over your mind.

You did your best to stay confidant, doing everything you could to ensure you didn't loose this game the two of you were playing. “Really? Is that what you like? Mr Shepherd.”

Your faces were so close to each others now that you could smell the bourbon on his breath when he let out a loud chuckle. His pearly whites showing as he did so. You even felt him graze his stubble against your cheek.

“Mhmm.” He ran his finger over your lips as he spoke slowly. "So tell me, what is it that does it for you Y/N? Hm? I mean a girl your age doesn’t decide to stare at a man like me all night just for the hell of it. So what is it? The power? The money? Or is it the age gap so big I could be your father?”

You squeeze your legs together as his sentence finishes, letting out a hushed whimper. Of course you were attracted to older men, that was obvious, but hearing him say it out loud in public whilst being so close to you turned you on even more than you thought previously possible.

He chuckled a little, “So it’s the age then, is it sweetheart? The idea of having a man more.. experienced pleasure you, instead of a man who would leave you to fend for yourself after finishing in less than five minutes. You want someone who can make you cum so hard you’d be begging him to make it stop, don’t you?” Every move Duncan made, every word he spoke was calculated, and it was all in pursuit of teasing you just because he knew he could.

You made a mental note of his nickname for you as you looked up at him. You felt his fingers run across your cheek and then push some stray hairs back behind your ear as you desperately tried to think of something smart to say, anything to say; but he had won. He knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. You didn’t even care anymore. You were more than ready to give what little of a resolve you still had up to him.

He whispered to you as he moved his spare hand up the small of your back. “Now little one, I have the presidential suite of this hotel under my name tonight. So what do you say we go on up? Since now we're just so well aquatinted."

●●●●●●●●

Having to take part in a meeting with your father and the man double your age that you had fucked for hours the night before was NOT what you had planned for today.

“Mr Shepherd, I apologise that I didn’t make it here on time. I had a pretty hectic morning.” You did your best to keep your chill in your now shocked state, but with everyone watching the two of you it wasn’t easy.

“No don’t worry, I know how DC traffic can be, especially in this weather. As long as you're here now.” A wide smile was planted on his face as he spoke. The same as last night. He never broke eye contact with you, and you found yourself wondering how he could do it so easily.

“Please, sit.” He gestured you over to take a seat as he pulled out the chair next to his own. You thanked him politely and sat down, your mind racing and spiralling out of control at the thought of your father discovering the sinful deeds you and his new boss had taken part in just hours prior.

You felt him tuck you into the table before sitting down next to you. You could hear the voices of the restaurant that surrounded you and the others at the table coming at you. Every noise was muffled, as if your head was suddenly underwater.

“Y/N?” You were quickly brought back to reality when you heard Seth question you.

“From my understating you have the merger documents in your belonging, yes?” He looked at your father for reassurance this was definitely case as he spoke. So with everyone at the table’s eyes on you, you slid the documents over to him.

“Yes! And uhm the specifications for the more politically based content changes are detailed on page 25. I was told that was of high interest today?” You got yourself back on track, trying to stay as professional as possible whilst ignoring Duncan and the predicament you had found yourself in.

“We were briefly discussing the more major changes before you arrived Mr Y/L/N, but I believe you’ve already been made aware of most them?” Duncan addressed your father, kicking the meeting off. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were listening to the conversation, you really were! It was just that you were so wrapped up in Duncan’s voice you couldn’t actually understand what the fuck they were all talking about.

Seeing him so invested in the crucial conversation he was having with your father and the many other associates at the table was just doing something to you.

Observing the way his hands were moving when he spoke, you noticed how he would often clasp them together when he was explaining things, and how he would tilt his head slightly as he listened. His bronzed curls were combed to perfection, resting delicately on the right side of his face and when he licked his bottom lip, it sent a shiver down through your spine all the way to your cunt. You were entirely captivated by him.

Hearing your Father ask for your opinion on the subject being discussed, you shook off the spell Duncan’s attractiveness had casted onto you and responded, giving your perspective on the subject.

Duncan relaxed into his seat a little more as he watched you talking. He knew you had been staring at him, but it was cute, he thought. Almost endearing seeing you get so flustered at just the sight of him. He had seen you squirming around in your seat whilst you watched him and decided the accidental teasing wasn’t enough; he wanted to toy with you more. As much as he possibly could.

“You know, if you’re trying hide what’s happened between us then you might consider making your staring a little less obvious, sweetheart.” He was speaking quietly enough for nobody else to hear and not looking in your direction, pretending to still partake in the tables back-and-forth. Still the fear of your father, who was sat just across the table, overhearing Duncans remarks was petrifying.

You knew you couldn’t let your craving for him and the confusion from not knowing who he was last night effect the meeting, but there he was with that nickname again, stirring your desire even further.

“How are you even here?” You let your frustrations out onto him as you talked back, his cocky attitude getting to you too easily with the stress you were under. “I’m trying so hard not to ruin today and this situation isn’t helping! They’ll fire me if I mess this up and I’ll be fucked! Which surprisingly, I’d prefer not to be!” Your whispering was pretty aggressive, but could you really blame yourself?! This kind of coincidence was rare, so you had every right to be mad at the universe for letting it occur on today of all days.

His ego not faltering for even a second, he chuckled. “Oh you don’t wanna get fucked? Funny, because I remember you saying the exact opposite last night.”

He grazed his hand across your inner thigh, massaging it gently before diving underneath the little black pencil skirt you were wearing to grip onto your flushed skin.

You scoffed at his words and looked up at him, shocked at how bold he was being and expecting some kind of response from him, but he didn’t even look your way. You assumed this was so no attention was brought to the two of you and so you followed his lead, turning away from him just as fast as you had looked.

With the heat of your cunt having grown far too intense to bear, any friction that wasn’t your own thighs pressing up against each other was to be welcomed. So you decided not to stop him. In fact you did the exact opposite, spreading your thighs wider for him, not having the self control or restraint to keep yourself from him any longer.

His hand moved closer to where you needed him most, diving under the crotch of your underwear to swipe his fingers over your slick folds and immediately begin rubbing circles onto your neglected clit.

You stifled a moan, leaning onto the table on front of you to keep yourself steady as he touched you. Finally, he moved his gaze to rest on you, watching you as you struggled to stay silent. He whispered once more, “Always so wet for me, aren't you princess?”

●●●●●●●●

As soon as you entered the suite, Duncan gripped onto your waist, pushing you up against the door and cradling your cheek with his spare hand before smashing his lips into yours.

His tongue slipped past your lips, dancing with yours whilst he moved his hands all over your body, clutching onto your breasts and then moving them down to explore the rest of you.

He lifted your dress up just enough so he could grip your ass. Pulling you closer to him and making you feel his bulge against your hips, you were too short in comparison to him to feel him where you wanted to most.

He spoke to you in kisses, telling you of how ravenous he was for you and that he was going to savour every moment. He moved his lips down, trailing open mouthed kisses from your neck to your collarbones and to the top of your breasts.

“This fucking dress” He took ahold of the bottom of your dress, pulling it up above your head with urgency as you lifted your arms to better help him strip you. Throwing the dress down onto the floor and hearing it land somewhere behind him, he admired your body and it’s curves.

“The perfect wrapping for such an enticing present.” He finished his sentence. Immediately grabbing at your breasts, sucking and kissing them.

You couldn’t speak, too enthralled with the technique of his tongue swirling around your nipple to do anything but moan in response to him.

You threw your head back against the door, staring up that the beautifully patterned ceiling in pure ecstasy. You felt him drag a callused hand down to the waistband of your Lacy white panties, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach as he traced his fingers over it. His finger tips running across the little white bow that centred the waistband.

He collapsed down to his knees, yanking the delicate lingerie as he fell, leaving it to puddle around your ankles.

He teased your heat, moving from kissing the skin of your thighs to your folds, but not yet reaching the lengths you wanted him to, only adding fuel to the fire in between your legs.

“Please Duncan-” you begged him, desperately needing some kind of release from the binds of lust he had managed to wrap you in over the past 45 minutes.

“Ah ah, don't you remember? You don’t get to call me that.” He spoke.

“I’m sorry, Mr Shepherd.” You corrected yourself, recalling the conversation you had with him prior to coming upstairs.

“Mhmm, now as magnificent as that name sounds coming from you, I know that there’s something else you’d rather call me.” He hummed in disapproval, calmly redirecting your choice of name for him and reassuringly pressing his lips onto your clit.

You let out a stuttered gasp, you did want to call him that, but now you felt nervous due to the build up he had created.

“Com’n, sweetheart. Do you think I don't know why you’re here in the first place? Why else would you be sat all alone in the bar of a hotel you weren’t even staying at? You’re just another slut with daddy issues, sneaking down to an expensive hotel to scavenge for any man good enough to fuck you into submission. Isn’t that right?”

Mildly insulted at his all too accurate observation of you, but enjoying the effect his degrading words have on you none the less, you gave him what he wanted. “Mm yes daddy!” You whimpered out, admitting your ploy to him.

A low rumble emitted from his chest, your words setting off some kind of animal inside him. He dove his face down into your pussy, starting by sucking on your clit gently, flicking his tongue over it and applying more and more pressure as you writhed above him.

His mouth was closed around you now, his grey, speckled stubble scratching your already inflamed skin. You were taken aback by his skills, intwining your fingers through the curls in his hair and tugging on them with every wave of pleasure that hit you.

He snaked his large hand around your thigh, lifting it up to rest on his shoulder while he ate you out. Enjoying the new angle he was utilising, he hummed, sending vibrations through your nerves up to the pit of your stomach, bringing you closer to your climax.

“Mmh.. fuck daddy, i’m gonna cum!” He didn’t let off, his tongue perhaps fucking into you even faster since you told him how close you were. You locked stares as your orgasm took over your body, your lips forming an o as you screwed your eyebrows together in rapture.

He came back up, letting you taste yourself and he placed his lips on yours again. You eased into the kiss, a relaxed haze having taken over your body in your post-orgasm state. Feeling a slight breeze flow up the side of your form, you realised that Duncan still had all his clothes on whilst you had none. Deciding you needed to change this as soon as possible, you began unbuttoning his suit’s matching black blazer and shirt, rushing to feel his skin on yours.

He helped you, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as you began to unthread his leather belt from the loops of his trousers. “You’re so impatient, little one.” He spoke.

“I think I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” You smirked, dropping the belt at his feet.

As soon as his shirt hit the floor you reached up, gliding your hands across the expanse of his bear chest, taking notice of how small your hands appeared in comparison to him. He watched you, relishing in the glimmer of entrancement that shone through your eyes as you ingested him.

He lifted you, his strong arms carrying you bridal style towards the king sized bed and throwing you down onto its crisp, satin sheets. Grabbing your ankles, he dragged you down the bed towards him and finished taking his pants off. His cock sprung free from the confines of his boxers, smacking against his stomach.

He clambered onto the bed, resting on his knees as he jerked himself in his hand, reluctantly groaning out at the first contact his neglected cock had received all night. His pressing cock had made it unfathomably hard not to just fuck you up against the door when he saw that sweet little way in which your face scrunched up as you came.

You were practically drooling, watching him fuck himself into his fist as his eyes scanned across your naked body. Not being able to wait any longer and wanting to finally feel his cock on your skin, you sat up slightly and reached out to touch him. But before you got the chance, he shoved you back down. leaning over you, he held your wrists down against the pillows with one hand and wrapped his other around your delicate throat.

“So greedy, baby” he stoked his thumb over the skin of your neck as he made his observation, watching you struggle underneath him.

“I just know what I want.” You toyed, your voiced coming out slightly muffled with the pressure of his large hand covering your voice box.

“Such an attitude, too.” His cock brushes over your cunt as he sways his head from side to side in disappointment and disproval. “Now sweetheart, you’re gonna stay exactly where you are and daddy’s gonna fuck you just like this, okay? So he can see that pretty little face of yours.”

You gulp at his words, anticipating the feeling of having him inside you. “Please just fuck me. Please.” You knew you sounded absolutely pathetic, but you didn’t care. Just needing him plummeting in and out of you as soon as possible.

He chuckled at your neediness. Taking his hands back from your wrists and grasping his cock, lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing in, he let you adjust to his size.

Moaning out, you dug your nails into the bed sheets, watching his head drop down to yours as he closed his eyes in pleasure.

“Fuck, you take me so well.”

●●●●●●●●

He slipped his ringed finger into you, pushing against your spongy walls whilst you made a desperate attempt to suppress your moans. You bite down onto your nails, your elbow resting on the table as you put all your weight onto it for some kind of crutch.

He began with a slow pace, making sure you would feel every little movement he made. You heard him join into the conversation once again, mentioning something about an article he had seen from the Herald last month which had impressed him. You weren't even sure. You couldn't think for the pulsing beat of your own heart that filled your ears.

“You all right there, Y/N?” Your heavy breathing must have been a dead give away for something being up, being your father was now questioning you.

You felt Duncan stop his movements momentarily, joining the rest of the table in their standstill, staring at you as they awaited a reply, but his little act of sincerity didn't last too long.

“Yeah, uhm-“ you felt him slide a 2nd figure in, making you fake a cough as to stop the cry desperately trying to escape your throat from doing so.

“Yeah, I’m uh, just thirsty.” Hoping this would ward off the worried looks you were receiving, you were shocked when you heard Duncan chime in. “Oh don’t worry, we can get you something.”

He called the waiter over, asking him for a pitcher of lemonade and thanking him as he walked away, back towards the kitchen. You would have preferred some water, you thought, but you were far too focused on what was going on underneath the table to say anything.

“Now, where were we?” Seth began talking once more, bringing the attention back to where it should be. But Duncan? No. His attention stayed on you. Even more focused on fucking his fingers into than before, he sped up and began going even deeper now, curling them upwards until you were twitching.

You looked up at him pleadingly. You were getting too close to cumming for your own liking, so you grabbed onto his thigh and dug your nails into his expensive black dress pants, warning him. He shot you a devious grin, scissoring his fingers inside you and pressing his thumb down to rub sweet circles on your hooded clit, letting you know he didn’t intend on stopping.

He looked behind you suddenly. Following his gaze, you snapped your head to the side, trying to get a good look at what had grabbed his attention so abruptly.

It was the waiter. He had arrived with the pitcher of lemonade in hand and yet Duncan was still plummeting his hand into your pussy with such a speed you began to wonder if someone had actually noticed what was truly going on. I mean the waiter must know.

At this point you had let far too many questionable gasps leave your mouth, your breathing had become even more erratic as you grew closer to your orgasm. He knew you were about to break before he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you, wiping the juices that coated them back and front onto your skirt so he could pick up the glass on front of you, leaving you unsatisfied.

You scrambled to collect your thoughts and breath as he picked up the pitcher, pouring the ice cooled lemonade into your glass.

“Here.” He spoke. You lifted a shaky hand up to take the glass from him when the grasp he had on it ‘slipped’, spilling the contents of it the onto your lap.

“Oh!’ You jumped up, making the sweet, sticky liquid run off your skirt to your thighs, dripping down your legs and eventually onto the floor. The now empty glass falling with it.

“I am so sorry, Miss Y/L/N.” He picked up the glass, sitting it on the table before joining you in standing. Now he was stood, you could clearly see the dark tint of his cock straining against the constrictive fabric that was his dress pants. It sent a pulse of lust through your cunt.

“Duncan!” Hearing Annette voice her annoyance at her son for being so clumsy almost made you laugh. It was quite amusing seeing his mother reprimand him, being he was a grown man in his 40s.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I-I’ll just go clean myself up in the bathroom. I don’t want to distract the meeting anymore than I already have.” You made eye contact with your father as he rubbed his temples.

He was annoyed at the scene you and Duncan had caused. You gave him an apologetic look, feeling bad for stressing him out even more than you already had with being late, but knowing it was technically Duncan’s fault and not yours.

“Please, let me help you clean up.” Duncan pushed his chair in, quickly grabbing some napkins off the table and resting his hand on your back to guide you towards the nearest bathroom, walking as fast as your weak legs would let him.

His hand stayed delicately placed on the small of your back, until you were out of the tables sight, at which point he took hold of your arm, clutching it like a vice as he dragged you through the bathroom door.

He locked the door behind him in preparation for what was to come. He needed to make sure nobody would be walking in on what he was about to do to you.

Looking back towards you, satisfied as ever now he had you alone, he waltzed on over, pinning you up against the counter with force. You could smell him on you again, same cologne from the night before. Dior, you guessed.

“You’re not very good at staying quiet, are you, Sweetheart?” He mused, hoisting you up onto the counter and forcefully cradling your face with both hands as he moved to kiss you deeply. His tongue ravenously re-familiarising itself with your mouth.

“You almost got us caught back there.” He spoke in between kisses. “Your poor, naive father, watching you. He was probably wondering why you kept squirming.” He voiced a dark giggle, moving down to suckle on your neck and push your skirt up your thighs.

“I almost got us caught? No. Y-you almost got us caught when you decided putting a second f-FUCK, finger into me whilst I was talking to him was a good idea!” You choked out, doing your best to fight through the pleasure of his lips finally grazing your skin as you watched him pull your panties down and slot them into his pants pocket.

“Awh poor baby. Did you not want your daddy knowing that you’re a greedy little slut for his new boss? Hm?” He admired the blossoming lavender and cherry bruises now forming on your neck as he teased, marvelling at the idea they could be noticed by your father once you finished.

He quickly opened his fly, pulling his dress pants and boxers down just enough that he could pump his cock in his hand. Gripping onto your hips for purchase, his fingers dug into you so viciously you could feel the marks he had left the night before. You knew after this, there would surely be more.

He thrust himself into you, earning a loud wail to fall from your lips. You arched your spine at the feeling of him pounding into you, making your head fall back against the mirror behind you. His hand shot up to the it as he gathered more speed, his pace growing far faster than you had anticipated.

“Was it too much for you? Taking my fingers in your cunt whilst you were trying oh so hard to concentrate? I almost made you cum on front of everyone.” You moaned out at his grotesque words, pulling your head up to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Answer me.” He pulled your chin up back to look at him, still pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping against one another’s felt even louder in the small, tiled bathroom.

“Yes daddy! It was too much for me - AHH!!” You let yourself go limp against the mirror, giving yourself up to him entirely and wanting nothing more than for him to use you like his personal rag doll.

●●●●●●●●

Your throat was growing hoarser with every squeal you made. Duncan had been fucking you ruthlessly for what felt like hours now, constantly changing his pace from calm to aggressive and back again. His lips were mouthing over your peaked nipples, tongue slathering trails of saliva across your skin and teeth scrapping over dozens of tiny goosebumps.

“Such a filthy, fucking whore for me.” Squeezing down on your neck with one hand he uses his other to slap you. His ringed hand coming down across your fleshy cheek with a loud crack.

You gasped out, shocked at this move and feeling reinvigorated by the suddenness of it. His abuse only made you more attracted to him, causing your cunt to puddle its juices around his cock.

Slowing his thrusts down to an almost complete halt, he grabbed your jaw, yanking your mouth open just enough that when he dripped his spit down you could catch it. You moaned at the filth of his actions, tasting the bourbon he had drank earlier at the bar.

Following the thick thread of salvia that connected the two of you to each other, he brought his face back down to yours, bringing your sloppy lips together. Never giving you the chance to close your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.

Your lips part, foreheads leaning on each other with eyes locked as you scream and moan at his brutal fucking. “Such a good girl.” He praised you.

“Thank you daddy!!” You cry out, feeling tears brimming in your eyes at the deepness of his cock. You knew he was going to be good when he first pushed you up again that door, but this was insane. You had never felt his turned on before. Loving being completely at his mercy, but receiving none.

He pulled out suddenly, wrapping his hands around your stomach and flipping you over to your front. You got the just of what he wanted and clambered onto your hands and knees for him. He pushed his cock back into your folds, hips ricocheting off your ass immediately.

He pulled at your hair, lifting you up to his chest as he gruffed and groaned. He was much larger than you, making it easy for him to pull your head back enough that he could see the expression on your lust enthralled face.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He demands, spanking your ass cheek and twisting your hair around in his hand. His other hand moved to your gaping mouth, pushing two fingers inside so you taste the metallic bite of his silver band.

You gag as he fucks your mouth, mumbling around his fingers in a desperate attempt at begging him to allow you to cum. You were getting so close now. You guys had been going for so long and your impending release wasn’t going to wait much longer.

“Fuckk, don’t worry sweetheart. Daddy’s close too.” He took his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your clit and swiping at it furiously. You could feel your own spit on his fingers as the coil in your stomach tightened.

“Ohh Daddy’s gonna come so deep inside you, little one.. would you like that?” His breathes were uneven. Thrusts uncontrolled and sloppy.

“Yes!! Fuck, fuck, FUCK Daddy I’m cumming!!” Your cunt pulsated around his shaft, squeezing his own orgasm out of him even sooner than he expected as you screamed. You could taste the saltiness of your own tears, them having run down your cheekbones and into your agape mouth.

His cum flooded your walls, filling you up with his hips pressed against yours as he enveloped you in an embrace from behind. He uttered out a shudder against your temple, his breathe feeling hot and damp on your skin.

He set you back down on the bed and pulled his softening shaft out of you, moving his large hands back to your hips as your own gave out and fell underneath you, pressing your face into the sheets. You eventually rolled over to lay on your back, wanting to let your aftershocks roll through your quivering limbs more comfortably.

He fell down onto the duvet next to you, propping himself up on his side slightly and pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss on your swollen lips. “You alright? I didn't hurt too bad now, did I?” He stroked your face, words alluring as ever now your resting bare bodies were tangled up together in a complete stand still.

“Nothing that I didn't enjoy, no.” You joked, lightly drawing intricate shapes on his arm with your fingertips, still harnessing the blemishing sting his ring had left under your cheekbone. “I’d say we're pretty well aquatinted now; wouldn’t you, Daddy?”

●●●●●●●

You could feel cool drips of perspiration slipping down your heated skin from your forehead to your collar bones and all you could do was hope they hadn't taken any of the concealer you had applied earlier this morning with them. You had needed to cover the bruise Duncan’s ring had so easily left on your cheek the night before, since you really didn't want your father or anyone else from work seeing it.

Duncan’s cock was curving in all the right places as he hammered into you. His pace and brutality showing you stars. He seemed even more confident than he did yesterday. Having had experience with you, he knew that you could take his most heinous savagery with delight and didn’t hold off one bit.

His huffs and groans were tantalising, growing louder and more uncontrolled as he fucked you into oblivion. His hand squeaked as it fell down the steamed mirror he leant on, leaving the glass behind you and finding its way to your jaw. He brought your face to his own and kissed you, loudly moaning into your open mouth.

You giggled through your mewls. “Mmm.. I thought I was the loud one, daddy.” You were amused that he had been teasing you so adamantly about the volume of your pleasure, when he was now the one making all the noise.

He paused, quirking an eyebrow at you before slamming his hips into you with a thrust so strong it made you practically scream out. “Oh, my apologises, sweetheart.” He smirked as he picked up his pace once more.

You wrapped your hands in his perfectly styled hair. You no longer cared who knew what was really happening in here, the thought didn’t even cross your mind. All you cared for was chasing your high. You rutted your hips on his and took his length entirely, feeling dangerously close to cumming.

“Fuckkk baby, daddy’s gonna cum okay?. Cum with me princess. Fall apart on my cock.” His unfocused thrusts had you coming undone in seconds. You held onto him tight, digging your nails into his shoulders and pulling at his curls as you cried out in ecstasy.

He shot his seed into you, feeling all his pent up frustrations from earlier at the table leave him as he pushed himself deep into your abused cunt. He didn’t even attempt to stifle his moans, too invested in finally receiving his release to realise just how loud he was being.

He rested his forehead on yours, your sweaty skin pressed against each other as you both attempted to catch your breathes after such a quick, ruthless fuck. You started laughing, finding it utterly ridiculous that you had spent the majority of a meeting you had been terrified for, getting fucked by your new boss (and the man you had fucked the night before) in a restaurant bathroom.

He joined in laughing, clearly finding humour within this strange situation too. Interrupting your laugh, he pushed his lips into yours, kissing you as if your lips were some kind of prize. You felt his cock slip from your cunt, his seed immediately spilling from it as you were left with a sudden, empty sensation.

He made quick work of zipping his pants back up and fastening his belt. You tugged your skirt back down to your thighs, being reminded of how Duncan had snatched your panties and stashed them in his pants pocket. You guessed you wouldn’t be getting them back anytime soon, which you were okay with, you just hoped nobody saw his remnants leaving you left the bathroom.

You flattened out your skirt and felt the wet sticky lemonade that still coated it. You had completely forgotten to clean it. “Fuck, my skirt's still sticky! Why would you order lemonade?” You whined; still mad he hadn’t just ordered some water.

Awaiting a reply, you turned to check your make up in the mirror. Luckily it was pretty light today, so it still looked good other than the bruise on your cheek now being slightly more obvious than before. What really concerned you was your neck. It was covered in every shade of purple and red you were aware existed. If your father and coworkers didn’t know what was going on from how weird you were being at the table before, or how long it had taken the two of you to finish in the bathroom, or the noises that were emitting from it, they would definitely know after seeing all the claims he had left on your skin.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think that spilt water would have been a good enough excuse to get you all alone in here.” He chuckled to himself, leaning over to rest his chin on your head and wrapping his arms around your waist as he joked over his mischievousness.

“But we should probably head back out there. I’m sure your father’s going to apprentice the beautiful mosaic I’ve painted across your neck” he kissed the bruises he spoke of as he watched you through the mirror.

You scoffed at him, gifting yourself one last look before completely giving up on finding a way you could make your face and neck appear more presentable for heading back to the table.

Duncan opened the bathroom door, nodding his head towards the hallway and waiting for you to hurry up and join him.

The two of you started walking back, your legs struggling to take your weight with how weak they had become. Your heels clicked along the floor, making you far more aware of how soon you would be sitting back down with everyone from work. Like a clock counting down to all the judgmental stares you would surly be receiving.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor as you took your seat at the table. Seths voice trailed off upon seeing the two of you sit down, leaving you both in the middle of an uncomfortable silence that felt near suffocating.

“What took so long!” You could hear the anger and perhaps embarrassment in Annettes voice as she whispered to Duncan. She looked towards you, glaring and scowling before retiring her vision back to him. She was probably hoping that what she assumed to have occurred hadn’t, but from the marks clearly decorating your neck, she would have known it to be true.

“Oh, we just couldn’t get the lemonade out of her skirt.” He tut as he spoke to his mother, smiling and playing off any obvious suspicions. “I’m sorry, really.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, dripping with a sincerity you knew to be false.

“So what was it we were discussing?” he speaks louder now, addressing the rest of the table.

“Uhh actually, I think we have a deal.” Seth replied, looking over at him and then the rest of the table. You heard your father mutter something in agreement, but it was meek. Quiet. He must have felt the awkward tension too. It was ripe in the air, like a shiver you couldn’t shake off. You didn't even want to look at him, knowing If anyone there felt most uncomfortable, it was him.

Saying their goodbyes and finishing up with any last details, everyone stood to shake hands and bid their farewells. You felt your fathers scowl as he came and stood beside you, but you didn't dare look at him. You were too ashamed to face him whilst still with your coworkers.

Duncan walked over to your father, looking more satisfied than ever with his eyes still focused on you as he thanked him for meeting and shook his hand firmly.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr Y/L/N.” He let go of your fathers hand only to take a hold of yours. He grasped it delicately, a touch more gentle than he had ever shown you previously. Assuming he was trying you shake it, you were more than surprised when he raised it to his lips, kissing your rosey knuckles; still red from the tight grip you had, had on his hair earlier.

“I look forward to working with you in the future, Y/N.” He graced you with once last signature smirk as he walked away, leaving you with your father who was waiting for an explanation and apology for your disgusting and foolish behaviour.

Maybe it hadn’t been the worst way to spend lunch.

Tags: @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @ntxoza @angelicmichael @jimmason @michaellangdonstanaccount @blakescoven @7-wonders @ghostangels @fernfiction @brattylovee @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @instincts-baby

[nomsugayoongi]

Recurring

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female

Warnings: None yet.

Synopsis: Jungkook meets the girl of his dreams...but the problem is exactly that. She's in his dreams.

Note: So I had this really bizarre idea for a fluff fest (and eventual smut fest because it's JK and I can't help myself) It's written and edited on a phone so forgive any mistakes and don't be afraid to let me know what you think.

"Huh?"

Jungkook looked around. He didn't know this street. Nothing looked familiar. Not the tall, grey buildings, not the neon lights casting colourful shadows on the dark pavement, nothing. He frowned, eyes scanning the signs on the building right beside him. It was one of those 24 hour convenience stores. The lights were on but he couldn't see anybody inside. No cashier behind the counter. No customers. He had no idea what time it was. Come to think of it, he didn't actually have any idea about anything. He felt a splash of water hit his face and glanced up at the dark sky. No stars. No moon. Just....black. The glow from the street lights cast faint beams and highlighted the beginning drops of rain. He looked down at the pavement. He didn't have shoes on. His bare feet looked strange against the concrete but he couldn't feel the cold ground. His frown deepened as he scraped his foot lightly against the path, expecting to feel the rough texture but feeling nothing. The rain started coming faster, droplets hitting the back of his neck as he stared down at his feet. He wasn't afraid. Even in this strange situation, with not a soul in sight, there was no fear. Just curiosity. He looked either side of him then down the dark street ahead. There was something glowing at the end of the street that piqued his interest. A soft, warm ball of light that flickered slightly even though there was no wind.

He started walking, the rain coming down harder, huge splotches soaking through his t shirt yet he didn't feel particularly cold. He looked in the windows of the closed shops as he walked past, the silhoutte of the items in the window seeming even darker against the faint light bouncing off the glass. It was so quiet. No traffic sounds, no voices. Just the sound of the rain hammering against the pavement. As he approached the end of the street, he squinted at where the light now seemed bigger and brighter. Pure darkness spanned out in front of him, but it was moving, shimmering and rippling as the rain hit the surface. Water. A lake or something. He couldn't tell how big it was. The darkness of the water sort of blending into the darkness of the night and made one big horizon of black. As he approached the edge of the water, he noticed that the ball of light that had caught his attention was a gently swinging lamp hung inside a gazebo. A rickety looking wooden Jetty connected the floating gazebo to the embankment and he quickened his pace to get to it, mainly because the rain was now hammering down so hard that he was drenched from head to toe but also because the soft glow of light against the stark backdrop of darkness was very inviting. He made his way up the jetty, hearing the wooden slats creak and groan under his feet then smiling as he reached the gazebo. It was cute. It seemed....out of place. An octagonal, wooden structure with a slate roof and half open sides. Benches ran around each edge, padded with thick, comfy looking cushions. A lantern hung from the center of the roof, swaying slightly above a small table. It really was out of place. It looked brand new, like something you'd see in the garden section of an IKEA catalogue. He wondered whether he was ok to sit since he was wet through but it was literally the middle of the night and there wasnt a soul around, so he sat, picking the edge closest to the open water and facing out so he could watch the rain bounce off the water's surface. He liked the overlapping circular ripples it created, like an intricate pattern on the glassy surface. It was nice. Absolute silence apart from the rain and the sound of his own steady breathing. He felt calm. Peaceful. Content even. Happy to just sit in the darkness and listen to the rain. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, the smell of the water and fresh rain causing a small smile to play around his lips.

"Hey. Soggy boy. What you doing in my dream?"

His eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly. "What the hell?" He muttered, confused. Stood at the entrance to the gazebo was a girl, her arms folded across her chest as she surveyed him. There was no way she could have snuck up. He would have heard her footsteps on the crappy old jetty. "Where did you come from?" He frowned, looking around with bemusement. "What do you mean where did I come from? It's my dream. Where did you come from?" She retorted. He looked back towards the street where everything was still exactly the same. No people. No sound. "I was over there." He muttered, pointing. "Wait...dream?" He questioned, completely confused. She nodded. "Yeah. This is my dream spot. I've been here loads of times. Want to tell me why you're crashing my dream? And why you're dripping on my cushions?" She said, arms still folded expectantly. "It's raining." He said stupidly. "I got caught in it. Wait...why aren't you wet?" He asked, suddenly noticing that she was stood among the falling rain but was bone dry. "It's my dream." She repeated slower, as though he was kind of dumb. "I decide what happens. I didn't decide on you though. Why are you here?" She asked, a frown creeping between her brow. He shrugged, still looking around curiously. "Dunno. Are you sure it's your dream? I think it might be mine." He reasoned. That would make sense. Not knowing where he was, the bare feet, the body temperature rain, the entire lack of life signs. "It's definitely mine." He muttered, more to himself than to her. "Yeah, cause I went to bed after practise and woke up here...except I didn't wake up. I must still be asleep. Huh! That's pretty cool." He said, a slow grin spreading across his face at the idea of being aware of his own dream. "Excuse me. Soggy boy. If it's your dream then why am I in it and why are you having it in my dream space?" She asked. He shrugged again, finally looking at her. She had long dark hair that was poker straight and impossibly shiny, it fell around a cute face, huge, sparkly eyes, button nose, pouty lips. Good cheekbones. She was short but curvy. Her expression displaying her curiosity. Definitely his dream. She looked like a strange Mish mash of all the things he liked in a girl. She was cute. Very cute. "Does it matter if it's your dream or my dream? Either way, it isn't real. Whoever is dreaming will wake up at some point and it'll end anyway. Why waste it trying to figure out whose head were in?" He reasoned. She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Yeah I guess. I'm just...not used to anyone being here." She shrugged. "Well I'm not here technically." He mused. "Neither are you." She hummed, studying him curiously. She'd dropped her folded arms and had taken a seat on the bench opposite his. She was staring at him intently. "You got a name or should I just keep calling you soggy boy?" She asked. "Jungkook" he smiled. "Huh?" She said, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook" he repeated. "Why the face?" She shook her head, still looking a little bemused. "That's not an English name." She muttered. He chuckled, now also looking bemused. "Why would it be? I'm not English." He replied. "But you've lived here a while? Your accent." She muttered. "Lived where? What accent?" He frowned. "In England." She stated. He chuckled again. "What are you talking about? I don't live in England. I've never lived in England. I barely know how to speak English although I've been learning for years. English is hard." He mused. "But you're speaking English now." She exclaimed. He frowned, laughing. "No. I'm speaking Korean." He said slowly. She looked like her head was about to explode. "No. You're definitely speaking English. I understand you. How would I understand you if you were speaking Korean?" She said, puzzled. "YOU'RE speaking Korean." He frowned. "EH? I'm speaking English. I wouldn't be able to speak Korean if my life depended on it, let alone carry out a whole ass conversation with some soaked stranger in my dream gazebo." She said defensively. He couldn't help but laugh. As far as dreams went, this was by far one of his most

interesting. "Ok. So you're speaking English. I'm speaking Korean...yet we understand each other. Cool." He smiled. She continued to look confused. "Ok so....Jungkook right?" She asked. He nodded. "Are you from Korea?" Again he nodded. "And to you it sounds like I'm speaking Korean?" Another nod. "Hmmphhh. I've had some pretty weird dreams before but this one takes the cake."

It felt like hours passed as they talked. He found out her name, that she was 2 years older than him and English. She worked in a hospital during the night and slept during the day. He told her about himself, the band, his band mates, he touched on what his life was like but didn't go into it much. It was nice to just talk to someone, even if he had to dream them up to do it. Without him even realising, the darkness surrounding them had begun to melt away, the sky lightening into colourful purples and eventually soft pinks as the sun came up. He didn't notice when the rain stopped or the silence gradually giving way to the sound of chirping birds. He was too engrossed in conversation to pay attention to his surroundings. He'd liked the sense of solitude when he first got here but quickly preferred having someone to talk to. She was attentive and interested, listening and asking questions, laughing when he made a joke. He felt...normal, which was nice. He was almost disappointed when she pointed out that time was almost up. He looked around, surprised. "When did daytime happen?" He frowned. She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Somewhere between your pressures as an idol and my frustrations at work." She shrugged. He gazed at the water, now noticing the lush green trees that surrounded the embankment, the colour of the sky, the sparkly surface of the water. "Wow. This place is beautiful." He muttered, eyes skimming his surroundings in awe. She smiled, nodding slowly. "It's my favourite place." She said softly. "Where is it? Is it real?" He questioned. Nothing about it was familiar to him. "I don't know. I've never actually been. I just...dreamed it once and liked it so I kept coming back. A lot of my dreams happen here." She sighed. He nodded thoughtfully. "I hope I come back." He whispered. "Yeah, you didn't get to try any of the cool dream stuff." She chuckled. He raised an eyebrow, pulling his eyes from the beautiful scenery to look at her. "What cool dream stuff?" She rolled her eyes again, making him feel like a rookie. "Y'know. The stuff you can't do when you're awake. Flying, floating, changing stuff, making yourself different. It's your head. Your dream. You control it. Once you realise you're dreaming, the laws of the universe become more flexible. Dreams don't care about gravity or continuity. Your head. Your rules." She explained. He looked at her wide eyed. "Really?" He muttered. She laughed, her laugh was musical and made him feel warm. "Mmm hmm. The trick is to realise you're dreaming quickly, gives you more time to play." Her smile was childlike, eyes twinkling with excitement. It was infectious, provoking his own giddy smile. "Is there time now? Quickly?" He asked. She hummed, looking at the sky. "Don't think so. Look." She pointed upward, his eyes followed. The sky seemed to be fading. He blinked a couple of times, trying to focus but everything was blurring. "No. I'm not ready yet." He frowned. He gripped the cushion in his fists, trying to hold on. "I want to stay." He heard her light, musical laughter but it sounded further away. "I hope you're here next time. See you, soggy boy."

Jungkook awoke, blinking rapidly as he looked around. He was in his bedroom. He sat up, frowning, his stomach still churning. He rubbed his eyes with a sigh. Of course he was in his bedroom. Where else would he be. Still, that was some dream. He looked at the familiar surroundings feeling almost a pang of sadness. "That was a good dream." He whispered to himself, feeling almost silly that a small part of him was already hoping to go back.

[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!”

[just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh]

Waiting Room

Summary: Stiles is badly hurt, with only y/n to save him

Pairing: None in particular but sort of reader X Derek?

Warnings: Mentions of blood and fighting, also talk of hospital

Word count: 2188

Original piece please don’t copy :)

----------

Sitting in the hospital chair with your head in your hands you focused on your breathing.

In

Out

Flashes of claws plagued your vision, swiping before you.

In

Out

You scrunched your eyes hearing the piercing sound of your own scream, the eerie sound playing back in your mind, filling your head.

In

Out

You sat up leaning back against the plastic chair, rubbing your face up and down trying to regain some perspective. You stood up, unable to sit in those horrid chairs any longer and also wanting to be moving, anything to distract yourself.

Pacing back and forth in the hallway you consistently looked up at the closed doors in front of you.

‘SURGERY – Authorised personal only beyond this point’

The door stood still, you begged for it to open, for someone to come and tell you, they were okay, that they would survive. You needed something, anything to hold on to. Even false hope was still hope right?

Shaking your head, you sat back once again on the hospital chair.

***

“Y/N RUN” Stiles screamed.

You barely had a chance to face the boy before you were knocked to the ground, the cold floor welcoming your body. Whatever it was that knocked you was now headed towards stiles. You blinked a few times, trying to stop the world from spinning around you. You pulled yourself up against the lockers that lined the boys changing room. Wincing as you touched your forehead, your fingers instantly becoming coated in blood. You looked up and saw Stiles slowly backing away from a large figure, his arms up in defence. You could see his mouth moving, but the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing Stiles’ pleas.

Eventually Stiles had retreated as far as the room would allow, feeling his back against the wall, his hands searched either side of him, a failed attempt at finding something to defend himself with.

The assailant’s hand was raised, his claws gleaming in the poorly lit locker room, and in one swift motion he had sliced Stiles’ stomach.

You screamed as his body slumped against the wall, the attacker simply left the room, disinterested in continuing the fight he thought was futile. Stiles’ torso began turning ruby red, the blood coating his middle in moments.

Scrambling to your feet you ran to him.

“Stiles? Hey, it’s okay I’m here I’m here” the words came out weaker than you intended. He looked up at you, his hands covering his stomach, a useless attempt at stopping the bleeding. You looked around the room, you needed to stop the bleeding. Grabbing a towel from a nearby bench you wrapped it and placed it on his abdomen, he grimaces at the sudden pressure.

“I’m sorry okay, I gotta stop the bleeding, just stay with me okay? Don’t you dare leave.” His slight head nod was all you needed to know he heard you.

“You gotta keep talking to me okay? I need another towel, and I’ll call an ambulance, or I’ll call Scott and we will get out of here okay?” You pleaded, trying to convince yourself it was going to be okay. You had seen injuries like this before and they always put pressure on the wound trying to stop the bleeding so that’s a good place to start. Your mind suddenly racing, scrambling to remember information they taught you in that stupid first aid course the school made everyone take. Logical and rational thinking was the only thing that would give Stiles a fighting chance. Placing Stiles’ hands over the now blood-soaked towel, you stood taking a deep breath, and began looking for more supplies.

“Talk to me Stiles, I need to hear you.”

“I don’t want to die at school.” He whispered.

“You’re not going to die; I won’t let you okay? Who else is going to tell me when I’m being dramatic or bring Scott and I into the woods at 1AM looking for a body? Who else is going to defend me even when I’m not there to defend myself? Who else is going to make me laugh when all I want to do is cry?” You finished your sentence as you kneeled next to Stiles, your arms filled with towels. Removing one you replaced it with two more, trying to stop the bleeding.

“You gotta tell my Dad, y/n”

“What? Tell your Dad what?” You were focused on his stomach, placing towel after towel anywhere you saw red.

“Tell him I love him okay?” Your breathing hitched in your throat and you looked up at the boy. His face was pale, more so than usual. His eyes lacked the spark that normally filled them.

“He knows Stiles. He knows.” Tears brimmed your eyes.

“You gotta tell him though okay? Promise me?”

“I promise, but you have to promise me something too.” He looked at you, unable to continue talking, allowing you to proceed. “You have to ask Lydia to the winter formal.”

His eyes widened, and mouth opened to object, no sound passed his lips.

“Come on Stiles, if- No- WHEN we get out of this, you have to do it.”

Stiles nodded as his eyes began to droop closed.

“No no no, you can’t Stiles come on.” You reached up to his face, your blood-soaked hands covering his cheeks with the liquid unintentionally. You shook his head and begged him to come back to you.

His breathing shallowed, only a whisper of air exchanging in his lungs.

The next few minutes were a blur. You had called an ambulance and then called Scott. Rode in the ambulance to the hospital and were told to wait outside while they wheeled Stiles into surgery. You stood at the entrance of the doors just staring, unable to move from your spot. Maybe if you didn’t move you would wake up from this horrible dream. Maybe if you didn’t move Stiles would walk out of there telling you it was all a mean joke. And so, you stood. Until a nurse came and asked about your head. You didn’t hear her the first few times she spoke to you, until she placed a hand on your shoulder, and you snapped out of your trance. Your face was wet from the tears you had no idea were even falling, too numb to feel anything other than helplessness.

The nurse walked you to a vacant bed, holding your arms and leading you away from the door you so desperately wanted to stand before. She cleaned your hands, the red painted sink yet another reminder of the events. She cleaned your wounds and stitched your forehead together before placing a bandage on your forehead. Her question didn’t register with you the first time, your eyes fixated on the wall ahead, the imagine of Stiles’ body permanently engraved in your mind.

“Sweetie?” You looked at the nurse. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” The sympathy evident in her eyes and tone of voice. Taking a few moments to answer you searched your mind for who you might want to call. Your parents were out of town on business, too busy with their jobs to worry about raising a child. Scott was already on his way, bringing Derek with him. The face of the sheriff came to the forefront of your mind. Feeling the guilt of having to tell him that his only son, his only child, was in a critical condition all because you wanted to sneak a copy of the test answers from Coaches desk, a fresh batch of tears lined your eyes.

“McCall.” You whispered. “Mellissa McCall.”

The nurse simply nodded and left the cubicle.

‘Mellissa McCall can you please report to emergency bay 3 please, Mellissa McCall to emergency bay 3’ the intercom speaker sounded through the hospital.

Moments later the privacy cloth dividing your bed from the emergency room was whipped open. Mellissa’s distraught face appeared behind it, she ran towards the bed, wrapping her arms around you and tightly holding as your body collapsed into hers.

“I tried Melissa, I tried but there was so much blood and it was everywhere-” you began

“Shhh it’s okay you did great okay?” she comforted.

“I can’t tell him. I can’t tell his Dad, I can’t.” You begged.

“Hey, we will do it together okay? I’m right here.” Melissa always had a way of soothing anyone. Maybe it was her motherly touch or the way her voice had a calming tone to it, but it always helped. Always. After a few minutes she pulled away, told you she was going to call the sheriff and ask him to come down, then she was going to go into the theatre to check on Stiles’ progress.

Leaving your cubicle, you sat on the chairs in front of the surgery. Your head hurt but it didn’t faze you. Losing your best friend was at the forefront of your mind and the thought of not having your cheeky sidekick beside you was too much to handle.

Quick footsteps sounded the halls and your heart raced. You weren’t ready to tell Sheriff Stilinski about his son. Looking up you were somewhat relieved to see Scott and Derek.

“Hey.” Scott said softly as you raised to your feet and were pulled into a tight hug. “Have you heard anything?” Shaking your head, you pulled away, not wanting to make eye contact with the werewolf Infront of you, too ashamed to see the distress on his face knowing you caused it.

Scott stepped back allowing Derek to hug you next. He didn’t let go when you tried to pull away after a few moments, knowing you needed to be held just a little longer. Sniffling, you pulled back, Derek allowing you to this time. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, his hand comfortably placed on you hip.

Collectively everyone looked up at the sound of another person running towards you all. A worried sheriff Stilinski appeared at the end of the hall, sprinting towards you. Before he could ask where his boy was and what had happened, the surgery doors swung open, a gowned-up Melissa exiting the room. She removed her protective gear and took a deep breath. Derek pulled you closer, preparing for the news.

“He lost a lot of blood. Almost too much.” She looked towards the sheriff. “But that boy in there is as stubborn as anything. The doctors believe he will make it.” Everyone sighed in relief and Derek pulled you into his chest, closing his eyes in relief. You felt your knees go weak and let out a soft cry.

“Y/n, you saved him.” Melissa approached you. “If you weren’t with him, he wouldn’t be here.” You nodded into Derek’s chest, unwilling to separate knowing you would have to face your best friends Dad. Mellissa hugged Scott and then the sheriff, both thanking her for her help.

You felt a hand on your upper back, slowly pulling away from the safety of Derek’s chest you turned to face Noah. His eyes were soft, tears falling from them freely, he softly smiled before pulling you into his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered.

“Hey it’s okay, he’s okay, we’re okay.” He replied.

“I didn’t mean it I swear we didn’t know we weren’t alone.”

“Y/n stop” He paused, separating the two of you, holding you at arms distance and tilting his head down. “We just need him to recover okay? That’s what you need to focus on.”

Simply nodding you were pulled back into the arms of the sheriff. Looking over his shoulder your eyes connected with Scott’s, his worried expression was replaced with one of anger. Eventually the Sheriff needed to sign some paperwork at the front desk, or maybe Melissa just sensed you guys needed a minute. Either way you were grateful for the opportunity to be able to explain the events to the boys.

“Well?” Scott looked at you expectantly. You sighed and looked at your feet.

“We wanted the answers to Tuesday’s test, neither of us had time to study so we figured we would find the answer key in coaches’ desk and borrow it.” Scott rolled his eyes and breathed out heavily, his mannerisms dripping with disapproval. Derek could only watch on as you continued to explain yourself. “When we got there, Stiles said he thought we weren’t alone, I thought he was just trying to scare me. We got to the boy’s locker room and were about to head into coaches’ office when Stiles yelled at me to run. Everything else is just a blur.” Finally looking up and meeting Scott’s eyeline you saw him deep in thought, the stress of the night’s events, evident in every inch of his face. “Scott?”

“I’m thinking.” He was short.

“There’s one more thing.” He looked towards you, ready to be annoyed with whatever you were about to say next. “Whatever attacked stiles, it had claws.” His eyes widened and looked towards Derek who looked like he had just made the same connection as Scott.

“There’s another werewolf in Beacon hills.”

[red1culous]

Curved Mirror

Sometimes when it got too much to bear she would take to the beach. She donned her running shoes and ran till she ran out of breath…or sand. More often than not it was sand. And sometimes she cursed her stamina and strength wishing she could for once in her life be the weak one. She wished she was the one being comforted instead of doing the comforting. She ran until her lungs gave way, or her legs did, or she just didn’t need to anymore. This was one of those days.

Coming to an abrupt halt she bends over grasping her knees and greedily sucks in salty air into her lungs. 

She is acutely aware of the noises around her. Living as a super spy did that to you. The wind, the waves, the seagulls rasping overhead, the old pier creaking. The cold wind blowing through the tall dried grass causing it to crackle and hiss. She heard it all. But she wasn’t aware of the new sound that presented itself. It blended in with the others that to her ears it sounded like nothing. 

As she stands in a filmy sheet of mist she hears it again, slight but distinct. And again. At first she cannot identify it. It was a pounding, crunching sound that came from a part of the beach that she had already passed. She presses her brows together and instinctively reaches for the tiny dagger she had sewn into the waistband of her pants. 

“Hey—“

The sound catches the breeze and is carried away on the wind. Like an eery whistle she hears the voice but cannot recognise the words. And through the mist that breaks and fragments she sees a figure trotting up towards her. Tendrils of mist floating about around the dark shadow.

“Hey—“ 

Again the figure calls out but the roar of the ocean swallows the sound. As it comes into view Natasha sees a woman with a gentle face and a welcoming smile. She is wearing a red cap, red shorts and a coach jacket zipped up to the top with the words LIFEGUARD emblazoned across the front of it. Natasha blinks a few times as if waking from a daze.

“Ma’am are you ok?” the stranger speaks tentatively reaching out to touch Natasha’s upper arm. She stops when Natasha flinches at the movement.

“I’m—“ Natasha stalls, “…what’s with the umbrella?” she continues buying herself some time.

The stranger furrows her brows but her smile grows a little wider. “It’s umm, it’s raining. There’s a storm coming and the beach is closed,” she raises the umbrella and opens it for Natasha to take. Natasha eyes it suspiciously for a moment before meeting the strangers eyes again. “Ma’am you’re soaked…” she adds.

“Please—“ Natasha’s voice comes out hoarse. She takes the umbrella.

“‘Scuse me?” the lifeguard asks.

“Natasha. My name’s Natasha. ‘Ma’am’ makes me sound ancient” she says as she notices that it was indeed raining. The wind was so cold that the raindrops on her face felt like tiny knives. How had she not noticed until now?

“Wanna get out of here?” the question is accompanied with a finger pointing up to an already blackened sky.

To Natasha’s surprise, Y/N, as the lifeguard introduces herself, grabs hold of Natasha’s hand and leads her towards her truck. The wind by this time had started to pick up speed and it pushed back slowing their progress. It felt as if they were trudging through molasses as the wet, powdery sand kept sucking their feet deeper and deeper into its slippery holes. Eventually they do make it into the vehicle and Y/N sighs in relief as she turns the ignition and heater to max. 

Rubbing her hands over her arms to generate some heat she reaches behind to the backseat and pulls out a neatly folded towel passing it to Natasha. 

“You first” Nat insists.

“Oh no. Don’t worry about me. This is what I train for. I’ll be fine.” She moves the towel closer to Natasha basically shoving the material into her hands. 

Nat chuckles at the situation she has gotten herself into. She was being rescued this time. How ironic, she thinks to herself. She takes the towel, an amused smile painted across her lips, and dries the ends of her hair, neck and front with it.

She also takes this opportunity to properly look at her saviour. Y/N is resting a clipboard against the steering wheel marking off checkboxes and scribbling down some notes. The wet hair that pokes out of her cap is stuck to her face and neck and from them fat drops of water drip onto her already soaked through clothes. Natasha feels slightly guilty for causing such a fuss but she was somewhat enjoying the whole damsel in distress act.

“Like what you see?” Y/N asks and the question has Natasha rapidly blinking as she feels heat rise to her cheeks having been caught staring.

“W-what?” she stutters. 

“I said, “do you like the sea?”” Y/N chuckles and chucks the clipboard into the backseat removing her cap and combing her hands through wet locks. “I see you running here maybe 3 times every week?”

“Oh…” Natasha smiles back, “yea I guess so.”

Silence fills the void but Natasha doesn’t think it’s at all uncomfortable. In fact, this is the most comfortable she’s felt in a long time.

“Right then…” Y/N breaks the silence, “where’s your car I can drop you off there” she puts the car into reverse before turning to look at Natasha expectantly.

“It’s umm….I didn’t bring a car” she lies.

“Oh ok…umm, where’s home then I’ll give you a ride.” 

“It’s umm…in the city” Natasha blushes. She can’t believe she’s acting like this.

“T-that’s a 40 minute drive. You walked here?” she asks incredulous.

“I umm…” she almost comes clean but Y/N cuts her off.

“Hmm don’t worry about it I’ll drive you there” she says smiling as she pulls out onto the road.

“You really don’t have to, Y/N.” Natasha offers really feeling bad this time.

“It’s my pleasure. Plus I live in the city too so it’s not like I’m going out of my way” she says opening a flask of coffee and taking a sip. “Do you want some coffee? It’ll warm you up a little” she adds shaking the canteen gently.

“I don’t know…I’m very particular about my coffee” Natasha laughs. Any other day she would be cringing at how she was behaving with a total stranger.

“Wow I am sending her home and she disrespects the coffee without even tasting it” Y/N fake pouts in response.

“OK give it here” Natasha reaches for the coffee and takes a small sip. “This tastes like piss water…,” she gags, “you know coffee needs to have coffee in it for it to be called coffee, right?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “And the sass! Ok to be fair I woke up late for my shift and didn’t exactly have time to brew proper coffee.” She makes a half air quote with one hand at the last few words.

“How about…we stop at this diner along the way and I get you a proper cup of coffee.” The question comes out sounding more like a command. “I mean, if you want to…it’s umm, the least I can do” she quickly adds.

Y/N doesn’t answer for a beat and it has Natasha cursing herself internally. 

What is going on with you!?

“Ok”

“Ok?” Natasha double checks.

“Yup” Y/N smiles stealing a glance at Natasha, “why not.”

Natasha beams as she leans back in her seat peering out the window into the inky darkess of night. She imagines the sky and the sea merging into one another. A flash of lightning strikes and it illuminates the surf breaking onto the beach. What she also sees as she looks out the window is a reflection of herself. She doesn’t recognise it at first. It’s smiling back at her. Genuinely smiling. She’s actually  smiling.

You are really smiling!

For the first time in what felt like weeks she let herself smile. 

---

Tagging: @jumbojamba47  @natasharomanoffismywife  @imnotasuperhero  @cybeleceto  @silverwing2522  @thelastavenger-3000  @peggycarter-steverogers  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519  @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx   @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain @higherfurther-romanova

[gallpall]

canaan bubble redux as a womb for story/character arcs

I’m sure most of this has been posted about before but: ever since my initial read I’ve been obsessed with the gross bodily/gorey stuff in the Canaan redux and I wanted to organize some of my constant+chaotic thoughts!!

TM has said that a lot of the motifs/events in the bubbles are actually “Silent Hill stand-ins” for story elements and she hopes we pick up on stuff, so here’s my Attempt!

At the same time that Harrow’s mind is being made a tomb for Gideon Nav Wake’s subconscious is pulled in to act as a womb for certain plot elements right alongside it. The chronology/time period of HtN mimics a full nine-month gestation. There’s a lot of very literal imagery here (which is below the cut), but I also think we’re meant to see it as metaphorical: we’re able to glean some things about character arcs based on how everything in the bubble goes down.

I’m particularly interested right now in those ‘side’ characters in the bubble who aren’t actually dead, who barely appear in the bubble at all except to get summarily offed, all in very distinctive ways. Judith, Camilla, Palamedes, and Coronabeth.

(cw below cut for some pregnancy/insemination imagery, canonical body horror and gruesome bubble deaths rehashed)

First of all just some quotes showing some of the imagery that I’ve attributed to being Wake manifesting pregnancy trauma stuff (there’s possibly some of Harrow’s conception trauma here, too) seeping through, for the purposes of this line of speculation. 

This isn’t nearly all of it, but some things that stood out to me as possibly comparing Canaan House 2.0 to a functioning reproductive system:

(ch. 21) a “collection of large, rusted pipette needles” -- turkey basters?

(ch. 35) “great, slithering, pulsing tubes” which contain “whitish-pearl bubbled globules”-- this perhaps recalls ovaries/fallopian tubes, with the ‘globules’ being follicles produced by superovulation for insemination, or corpus luteum that supply progesterone to maintain a pregnancy.

(ch. 45) “stretched webs of organ [...] like nets of sticky venous spiderweb” --uterine walls, maybe; it’s all over the windows, totally encasing them in Canaan’s rooms, and arguably even contracting like a uterus would: “every so often they would tremble uncertainly and erupt in floods of bloody, foamy water.”

in the next pgh we get some more of the tools Wake would have used to conceive/upkeep the pregnancy: “pipettes, broken glass-fronted containers filled with dark fluid,” skeletons sitting atop piles of “capsules or pills” perhaps hormones/supplements. (also holding Drearburh tools, the way Wake’s skelly would have been doomed to do)

(ch. 43) “from that hole emerged a clattering pile of plex scope slides, the type you would preserve a cell sample between“ -- Wake would’ve had to carry out the IVF process for implantation, this also seems like apparatus for that

(ch. 47) there’s the “libation” Abigail uses to summon Wake which is... well. It’s a “thin, milky, whitish liquid pooled at the base, sluggish in the cold,” and the summoning involves a bunch of ‘come’ commands, which I think might be Muir making a very elaborate jizz-adjacent “silly buggers with the emissions” joke. 

Just a note, cause I’m hopeless about Pyrrwake: the Seconds’ quarters are almost completely preserved from the leaky body horror (though it’s still cold in there)--as if they represented a sanctuary in Wake’s subconscious. There are also letters in the nonagonal coffin room which spell out an anagram of “PYRRHA” (ch. 47).

So with all that in mind, I’d posit that the fake-ghost deaths are all metaphorical “rebirths” of various characters arcs for ATN. I haven’t delved into what this imagery might mean for Harrow or Gideon specifically because I know there’s a LOT and it’s probably above my theoretical paygrade (I would love for someone to tack on with that though!!) but I can talk about ‘side’ chars on a very big-picture level.

Judith’s simulacrum gets knocked off first (ch. 18); shot through the heart (both atria) while she and Marta’s ghost are trying to complete the winnowing trial. The Sleeper shoots her 7 more times after that, I guess partly just ‘cause she can, but Ortus notes that it seems like there was an element of "Anger” to it. It’s possible Wake wasn’t pleased to have someone messing around with Pyrrha’s lyctoral trial, infuriated that anyone would be attempting to replicate G1d/Pyr’s original downfall. She then ignores Marta entirely and climbs back in the coffin (now with the sword) once Judith’s out of the way.

[Marta’s] scarlet necktie looked redder too—by the time they’d gotten hold of Judith Deuteros the blood had dried hers nearly black.

Cohort red-and-whites being stained black with blood, like a certain high-collared BOE uniform... could be another little clue to Judith’s "heart” for the Emperor (and for Marta, and pretty much everything else she knew) being lost and her realigning--though not willingly, at least at first--with the other side.

Cam and Pal’s simulacrums are plainly executed (ch. 21), they have their “faces obliterated” each by a single gunshot, and it’s as if they just stood there and let it happen. In the bubble, “Harrow had never seen Sextus or Hect except from afar.” These simulacrums totally avoid having their features revealed to Harrow. I’m willing to bet their faces being obscured and then exploded is one of the clues we get to their eyes being swapped around the next time we see them in the epilogue and in ATN.

Regarding the twins: They are essentially non-extant in the bubble. Ianthe never appears because she’s still kicking and, in her own words, “doesn’t live alternate histories” (GtN ch. 15).

Coronabeth’s simulacrum scene (ch. 37) is SO vivid and cryptic. It fascinates me because it definitely is, in part, trying to tell us something poignant about the initiation of Corona’s “worse twin” arc in ATN.

[Corona] was turned away from Harrow, and her riot of hair—half-caught in a fillet, half-escaping—was soaking wet, a dark and crinkling amber in the rain. She was not fighting or arguing. She was still as a statue, and ready and waiting as a dog.

Sounds like the fake ghost preparing for that major shift in allegiance. Silas is the one to ‘dismiss’ her, with his “may the blood of your blood suffer,” which perhaps is a really Templar-y way of saying ‘now go wreck ianthe’s SHIT.’ When Harrow accuses him of sending Corona to her death, Silas asks “Death?”--as if he sees that what’s really just happened, at least metaphorically, is (re)Birth.

[Harrow] thought she saw, absurdly, a sudden gush of watery blood, as though the fog itself had been knifed; but it was gone almost as soon as she had seen it.

Sounds a bit like amniotic fluid/water breaking? Coronabeth doesn’t ever seem to hit the ocean (bodies of water=necromancy and that’s not her deal), she instead just kinda poofs, and Silas says she would have ended up “on her feet.” Coronabeth is ditching her family ties and is out for blood, and I think her charisma, willpower, and sheer desire for revenge will move her a long way in the ranks of Eden--probably even to the point of echoing Commander Wake’s ambitions and actions. I could delve into that damn portrait mirroring Ianthe’s obsession w/ Cyrus’ paintings on the Mithraeum... but that is a whole other post!

So all of these are fairly baseline observations and I think there’s a LOT more to be expounded on, if y’all wanna reply/reblog/DM with additions I would freaking love that, every time I open a page of this book I find something I missed before and it’s such a delight. Thanks for reading if you got this far!!