#so for the last three years ive been hoping praying and waiting for the day that she comes back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jiminniethemarshmallow · 4 years ago

Text

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!”

#tyfys #jimin smut #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #clubjimin #ficswithluv #Jimin angst #jimin fluff #bts royal au #purplearmynet

378 notes · View notes

kimnjss · 5 years ago

Text

desperate housewife | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) ⇢ genre: smut. ⇢ word count: 5.5K ⇢ theme: husband!jungkook, housewife au, established relationship ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: soft angry guk, car sex, nipple play, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)… this was lowkey kind softcore, ngl. ⇢ summary: bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby... jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime. ⇢ A/N: this was heavily influenced by desperate housewives, okay. ive been binging it during quarantine nd kind of spit this out lmao. also!! want to apologize if this feels all over the place, kept on stopping nd starting again... so yeah!

The day your husband proposed, he gave you his word that you'd never have to lift a finger once you were married to him. His faith in his career and talents fueling his proclamation. You would've said yes even without it, but it was nice how badly he wanted to treat you like a princess.

You and Jungkook had been together for two years before he decided to get down on one knee. He made it known that he thought you were the one from the beginning and you had always thought, it was soon to tell- but he was right.

Your agreement was no short of immediate, wedding date set for an exact year after that day and you couldn't wait. Jungkook was oddly helpful with the planning and organization, way more than you'd expect a husband to be, but he was genuinely interested.

With his help, you two pulled off a gorgeous ceremony. His family and yours filling the place, watching as you agreed to become one with this man. It was all you wanted. Becoming Mrs. Jeon Jungkook was the best day of your life. Three days after your honeymoon in Malta, Jungkook was urging you to quit your job.

You did.

Jungkook was serious about keeping his word, didn't plan for you to lift a finger at all. A maid was hired to do the cleaning, chef to do the cooking, a yard boy to tend to your pool and pretty garden. You even had a personal driver to drive the car he had purchased for you.

Not once did you think of complaining. It was nice. Not having to worry about this or that or the other thing. Having everything done for you really freed up time for you to do the things that you really liked to do. The only problem was, you've been busy working your whole life you never really had the chance to figure out exactly what that was.

And it wasn't like you could hang out with the husband you loved so much, he hardly had time to cut his hair, let alone hang out with you. So you spent your days at home, chatting with the members of your staff and counting down to the days that Jungkook was able to come home.

It wasn't until you caught yourself in a heated argument with the yard boy about the exact inch length of your front lawn did the realization hit you. You needed a hobby. Shopping, getting your hair and nails done, that wasn't going to cut it. You needed something that was just for you.

You just needed to figure out what that was.

Sat on the couch with your feet propped on an ottoman, you flipped through your catalog. Sulin, the maid, stood across from you, wiping the windows down with glass cleaner. The sound of a car door slam had your fingers stilling, your body perking as your attention was brought to the large window in your living room.

“Mr. Jeon is home,” Sulin informed you, but you were already standing; all but running out the front door. Jungkook was waving goodbye to the man who had dropped him off, hands clutching his way too large suitcase. “Baby!” You squealed, not being able to contain yourself as you leaped for him.

Your husband and his ever so impressive reflexes were catching you easily, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he leaned up for a starved kiss. His hands were properly placed on your sculpted bottom, slowly inching up to grip the flesh. A squeal flew from your lips as you pulled back, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

“Do you really think the Jefferson's want an eye full of you groping your wife on the front lawn?” You questioned with a raised brow. Jungkook shrugged his strong shoulders, tilting his head up to reach for your lips again.

“The Jefferson's have been married 30 years, have six kids, I think they know a thing or two about groping.” You pushed the thought of your ancient neighbors going at it, instead deciding to concentrate on the cute dimples indenting your husband's cheeks as he flashed a boyish grin. Not only was this man blessed with deadly good looks, but he also had the heart and spirit of a young child. Things never got boring with him around.

Your hands cradled his face, leaning down the rest of the way to press your lips to his again. “I've missed you so much.” Your words are barely comprehensible, considering your mouth is smushed against his. Somehow, he understands you totally, sharing your sentiment with a wide grin.

His hands finding your ass again, Jungkook holds you to him as he begins taking long steps toward your house. You could feel his length against your thigh with each step he took and you knew exactly what you were in for once you reached the bedroom. Or maybe the kitchen. Hell, he might even give up on the front porch and do it there.

Yeah, things never got boring with Jungkook around.

An entire week had passed since Jungkook came back home. A whole week filled with laughter, games, impromptu trips, spontaneous dates. A full week of fun with the man of your dreams. Every waking moment was spent together, genuinely enjoying each other that you forgot he would be leaving come Sunday.

This is why you wore a permanent scowl on your face as you neatly folded his clothes, taking on the task to pack his suitcase. Sulin had been doing it when you entered the bedroom, but for some odd reason, you felt like you wanted to. She was more than happy to pass the task on to you, moving to get dinner started.

Since it was Jungkook's last day in the house, Sulin had suggested she made all of his favorite foods for dinner tonight. No protests on your husband's side, of course, and you figured your waistline could suffer if it meant witnessing that huge bunny smile that took over his features.

Warm arms wrapped around your waist, chiseled chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Jungkook pulled you into his embrace, taking in the sweet smell of the perfume you prayed whenever you got out the shower. “How's my princess doing?” His tone was soft and caring.

Jungkook knew that you were upset that he was leaving. But he also knew that you weren't upset with him. Couldn't be upset with him because you knew what you were in for from the beginning. It just annoyed you that his job always cut into the time that the two of you got to spend together. He was hardly ever home, never really unpacked when he was home because it was just a matter of time until he was leaving again.

It was like your house was just a rest stop and that annoyed you, passionately. You didn't want to make him feel bad, though. You knew he was trying his best; could tell with how he fought sleep when he was back just so he could spend time with you. It was hard on him too, so there was no reason to make a stink out of it.

You pulled his suitcase closed, zipping it before turning in his arms. Your scowl had morphed into a pout, arms wrapping around his neck. Lifting up on your tiptoes, you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I'm okay. What time is your flight?” You wanted to know just how much time you had left with him.

“Javier will pick me up right after dinner.” Guess you only had a few more hours left with him then. A sigh slipped from his lips, his hands cupping your face and thumb brushing over your cheek. “I won't be gone long this time. Just a week or two and then I have a month off,” He offered up with a grin and you matched it, nodding your head.

“Can we visit that resort when you get back, then?” You looked up at him hopeful, his head was nodding not even giving a moment to think of the request. “Whatever you want. Just put it on the schedule. A whole month, I'm all yours.”

It was like time was on a treadmill whenever you were with him. Before you knew it, dinner was being served and the two of you sat across each other at your way too big dining table. “You know,” He was speaking after some time had passed without either of you saying a word.

You were playing with your food, eating in slow motion as if that would keep time from moving so he wouldn't have to leave just yet. Head lifting at the sound of his words, you tilted your head to the side. “Sammie Fields and a couple of her girlfriends all take dance lessons at the gym across town.”

Face contorted, you tried to figure out why he was offering up this information all of a sudden. “Alright, you got me. Why are you telling me this?” You pushed out a laugh, hoping not to sound too harsh. You just wanted to enjoy your silent dinner before he was being whisked away.

“Maybe you should join them sometime?”

“Is this your way of telling me that I need to start working out? Believe it or not, Jeon Jungkook I'm in-” He was quick to cut you off, quick denying shakes of his hands as he leaned toward you. “No! No, it's nothing like that. I just... you said that you were bored,” Your cheeks darkened, had forgotten that you had shared that with him while catching him up on everything that had been happening while he was gone.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and he shook his head. “I don't really get along with Sammie and her friends. Don't think they'd really care for me tagging along.” It was no secret that the girls on the block weren't all too fond of you. You weren't sure why, but they didn't really seem interested in being your friend – had their little clique made before you even moved in.

And they weren't taking any newbies anytime soon.

“Ugh, I wish you could just come with me. I hate that you're stuck in the house bored all the time.” It had been suggested and shut down when you two first got married. Jungkook didn't really want to travel without you with your marriage so new, so he came up with the idea that you just came along with him.

His manager was quick to veto his proposal, deeming you an unnecessary distraction – the asshole. “I'll be fine, don't worry about me.” You pushed a smile onto your face, but he didn't look convinced; cut into his pork with a quizzical look on his face. His teeth worried his lower lip and you could almost literally see the wheels turning in his head.

“Or! You know what, I could take up tennis?” You suggested, with a grin. “Tennis? Since when were you into tennis?” A shrug of your shoulder was sent in his direction as you reached forward to grasp your wine glass, bringing it to your lips. “It's never too late to learn,” He nodded.

“Are you sure you're going to like it? I mean... not to discourage you, but baby, I've not even seen you pick up a ball. Well, besides...” From the smirk on his face, you knew exactly what he was alluding to. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile that tried to peek through.

“It could be fun,”

You could tell that he was happier now, at ease knowing that you weren't just going to sit around watching grass grow as you waited for him to come back. “Alright, then! I'll get you the best trainer there is. Let me just...” His hand reached for his phone on the table, your hand quick to stop him.

“You don't have to do that, baby. I'm sure there are plenty of good enough trainers at the gym. Cheaper too.” Although you loved being pampered and spoiled by him, you didn't marry him because he was stinking rich.

You married him because you were madly, deeply, truly in love with him- so there was no need for him to hire 'the best' anything for your new hobby.

“I guess if you're sure.”

“I'm sure. I'll head to the gym tomorrow and meet someone,” He nodded, attention being drawn back to the meal in front of him. Finally being able to enjoy his favorite food without worry creasing his brows.

Two days after Jungkook had left, you were dragging yourself out of bed and heading straight to the gym. You were excited, always had liked tennis and the whole idea of it; you figured it would be fun to actually play it.

Finding a trainer was a lot easier than you had thought it would be. After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk, she was leading you down a long corridor into a sectioned off area of the gym. More elaborate work out machines were back here, a large TV and a sauna.

“Mr. Kim.” She called to the man running on the treadmill. A fitting long-sleeved top hugged his muscles, loose shorts bouncing with each movement of his strong legs. The woman called out to him once more before he was pulling the headphone from his ear, pressing a few buttons on the machine to slow his steps into a walk.

“What's up?” He replied, a bit out of breath.

“This is Mrs. Jeon,” She introduced you formerly, despite how you insisted she uses your first name. The man cocked a brow, sparing a sideways glance in your direction. Undeniably handsome, a face appears to be carefully structured by the gods. A strong jaw, pink full lips, cheekbones, nose a little large but fitting for his handsome face, dark intense eyes guarded by long eyelashes. Even his eyebrows were pretty, what the fuck?

The man pushed a long finger against the machine in front of him, stopping it completely. “She's in looking for a tennis trainer. I figured you would be fit for it.” He was hopping off of the machine, turning to face the two of you fully.

“Have you ever played before?” His words were directed to you, but you were distracted by the deepness of his voice. Did he really sound like that... all the time? How intimidating. His head tilted, awaiting your answer.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, desperately trying to rake your brain from what he had just said. “Oh!” You spoke a little too loudly. “Not really, no. I've just always wanted to...” The intense way he was staring at you had your sentence trailing off.

He didn't speak, eyes scanning over you carefully; making you feel small. Even the girl that brought you here sensed the odd tension, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of her feet. His tongue pushed out to lick his dry lips, a smirk taking over his features as he dragged his gaze back up to your eyes. What you would give to know what was going through his mind just then.

“It'd be my pleasure,” His voice velvety sweet with some promised laced in his words. You grinned, taking hold of the hand that he had extended out to you. “I'm Taehyung.” He introduced himself with a small smile.

Taehyung nodded at the sound of your name, going to release your hand from his grasp just as the piece of jewelry wrapped around your fourth finger caught his attention. Mindlessly, his fingers brushed it, his eyes finding yours once again.

There was something going on in his mind, you knew it. Could tell by the furrow of his brow and the smirk on his face. You just couldn't decipher what it was. His hand was dropping yours, slipping into the pocket of his pants.

“Lynn will set you up with my schedule. See you soon, Yn.” Taehyung flashed that teasing smile before tucking his earphone back in and climbing back onto the machine. Lynn led you out the same way you first came, stopping at the front desk to schedule you.

No matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth, you couldn't shake the thought of Taehyung from your mind. It was weird. Sure, you've been swooned by attractive guys before, you were married; not blind. But this was different, he was different.

You didn't know what it was and you were scared to find out. There was no point in either way. These were just tennis lessons. Nothing more, nothing less. You were married so that was it. Halfway home, you wondered if you should turn around and demand a different trainer. Decided against it, surely nothing will happen..., right?

Two weeks had passed since Taehyung had become your personal trainer. It was fun, learning the sport and getting to know the mysterious man that paid so much attention to your skills. He had this set narrative of what you were capable of and never accepted less, always pushing you and oddly you liked it.

Your game was getting better as the days rolled by. Time no longer standing still with this new hobby of yours. You two met every day at 3 o'clock, most lessons lasting for an hour... maybe two if he wasn't busy, three if he got hungry in the middle. It was fun and you were quickly feeling as though you could think of the man as a friend.

The tension that surrounded you two when the first meeting had died down. You weren't interested, no matter how many smirks he threw in your direction. Jungkook was the love of your life and messing that up was at the bottom of your list. It wasn't even on your list. Taehyung got the hint without you having to spell it out for him. You appreciated that.

A gentle hand on the small of your back stilled your movements, your head turning to face the handsome man standing behind you. “You need to straighten your back,” His deep voice instructed and you nodded your head, following his orders.

He smiled, hand leaving your back to grasp your elbow- the other hand reaching for your wrist. “Tuck your core in when you swing, gives you more power.” The hand on his elbow dropped, splayed fingers landing over your belly button. You brought your arms back, tucking your core in and going for the swing.

You could feel the difference. “Oh! I didn't think it would-”

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Your sentence was being interrupted by the booming voice of your husband. His face twisted with anger as he approached the two of you. “Get your hands off my wife!” He shouted, the words making Taehyung release you, jumping back a few steps.

“Jungkook? You're back early.” It was the only thing you could muster in your shock. Never had you seen him this angry before. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you behind him as he stood square in front of Taehyung.

He sized him up, jaw clenched and fists balled. “Who do you think you are? Touching her like that?” Despite having the big muscle pig that was your husband in his face, Taehyung didn't seem the least bit intimidated. Arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at Jungkook, bored.

Sensing this could take a turn for the worse, you decided to step in. “Jungkook, baby. Relax. He's my trainer!” Jungkook only half-listened to your words, squaring his chest as he stepped closer to Taehyung.

“Does your trainer know that you're happily married?” His words were delivered through clenched teeth to the man standing in front of him. Taehyung was rolling his eyes, hands patting at your husband's shoulders.

“I suggest you calm down there, buddy. I can have you kicked out and your wife banned with a snap of my fingers.” He wouldn't do that right? Ban you? You two were friends, he was just saying that?

You didn't want to be the one to call his bluff. Hands finding Jungkook's elbow, you tugged him toward you. “Let's just go, baby.” He scoffed, tugging his hand from your grasp before turning and passing you, stomping up the hill.

You quickly followed behind him, legs moving quickly in fear he might leave without you. He had stopped in front of his car, hands in his pocket. You landed a soothing hand to his back. “Baby, I promise you. Nothing like that was happening. He was just helping me with my form!”

His hand pulled out from his pocket, your big, expensive wedding ring between his fingers. “Why aren't you wearing your ring?”

“Oh.” You could feel your cheeks darkening, embarrassed as if you had been caught. But you hadn't! You just knew what he was thinking and how all of this looked. You reached your hand forward, taking the jewelry from his hand. “I only take it off for training, I didn't want it to fly off.” You tell him, and it's the truth.

He doesn't believe you, rolling his eyes right in your face. “Yeah, fucking right and you just so happened to get paired with the young attractive trainer, rather than someone who is actually qualified.”

“It's not like that! Don't you trust me?” Wedding ring secured back on your fingers, you reached up to cup his face in your hands. You offered a soft smile up at him, thumbs stroking his clenched jaw. “I would never do something like that, baby.”

Scowl not falling, but an arm wrapping around your waist; you could tell he was softening. “It's not you, I don't trust.” He grumbled and you nodded in understanding, standing up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“I know, baby. You'd be the first to know if he tried anything,” Your words are murmured against his lips. The grasp he holds on your waist tightening as he pulls your body tighter against his. You feel his grasp dropping from your hips to your thighs until he's lifting your body off of the ground; easily wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back is being pushed against the cool exterior of his car, his body pressed tight against yours as his kiss gains intensity. His mouth desperately searching yours as if trying to imprint himself on you. His hand slid underneath the bottom of your tank top, smirking at the realization of your lack of bra.

Jungkook was breaking the kiss, leaving your lips yearning for more of him. Dark eyes stared into yours, heavy breaths leaving his lips as his thumb caresses your hardening nipple. “I can't fucking believe you.” He snarled, fingers pinching at your nipple; making you yelp.

He didn't even allow you a moment to reply, lips crashing against yours with much greed, hunger as his hips pushed up into yours. You could feel how hard he was even through the fabric of his jeans and you wondered if he'd fuck you right here... against his car where anyone could walk by and see you.

The thought had a rush of arousal pooling between your legs. You leaned into his kiss, returning everything that he was giving you. Jungkook's kisses were everything he was; sweet, passionate, determined, horny. His hands dropped from your body, grasping the behind you as his tongue pushed further into your mouth.

With unbelievable swiftness, Jungkook was pulling the car door open, lifting your body off of the car and laying you across the back seat. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss to climb onto you, trapping your body between his strong thighs.

You slid your hands up the front of his shirt, the rapid beating of his heart surprising you. He still wore that scowl on his face and you frowned. “I love you, Kookie. You know that, right?” You offered a sweet smile up at him, which he only nodded to. His hands hastily pulled your shirt up and over your head.

His face was buried in your neck, attacking your slightly sweaty skin with his lips and teeth. Big hands grasped your breasts, teasing them. Hearing the whimpers, the moans that his touches caused did wonders for Jungkook's ego. He loved knowing that he was the only one that could get you like this, see you like this. Fuck that Taehyung guy, you were his and he was more than willing to prove it to you.

He couldn't help the primal instinct to cover your body in his marking to make it completely and utterly clear that you belonged to him. Quickly, his hands were dropping and rounding your body to grasp your ass; using his grip to pull your body against his. At that exact moment, he was sinking his teeth into the skin just above your collarbone, sucking harshly on the spot right after.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” He loved the sound of your sweet moans. Loved it even more that it was his name falling from those pretty lips. Jungkook rolled his hips forward, grinding his hard and growing erection against your scarcely covered pussy. Such a tiny useless skirt, did you really think he'd have nothing to say about you prancing around in this?

Your shaky hands found the dark curls of his hair, tugging at the roots as his lips dragged their way down your chest. You were already so needy for him, back arching in an attempt to push your breasts closer to his lips, hoping he'd take the hint. He did. A breath of relief fell from your lips as his mouth finally wrapped around one of your hardened buds, wet tongue drawing circles around it, pulling desperate moans from your lips.

He was pulling back with a hiss, teeth sinking into the flesh of your tit, making you yelp. His gentle tongue soothed the skin, dark eyes peaking up to admire your lust-filled, half-lidded eyes. A gentle kiss pressed against the marked skin, “You're so pretty like this.” He grinned.

Jungkook reached his hand down to still the grind of your hips that had started without your knowledge, he pinned you against the leather seats and you whimpered. “What is it that you want, baby?” Fuck, his voice. It wasn't often that Jungkook took on a dominant role, sort of liked to go with the flow. But right now, the way he was looking at you, handling you, hand an unfamiliar twist building in your stomach.

There was no way you'd be able to keep your composure if he kept on like this. “I need you, Kookie. I need to feel you.” Never did you think he'd be down for car sex, but you weren't opposed to the idea; not one bit. With that, though, you knew that you had to be quick; there was no telling who could come rushing down the hill. Which meant foreplay wasn't really in the cards for you two right now.

Jungkook was quick with leaning back on his knees, tugging at the buckle of his belt until it came undone. He only pushed his jeans down enough to pull his cock out. No matter how many times you saw it, you always seemed to find yourself mesmerized by Jungkook's cock.

It was no surprise that it'd be long, Jungkook was a big guy and it was only fitting that he'd have a big dick. Rested nicely just inches below his belly button. It was thick too, pretty veins wrapping around the length and a pink tip that had your mouth watering and pussy clenching.

Jungkook watched you expectantly, a subtle smirk on his lips. He had definitely caught you ogling. It took you a moment to figure out why he was looking at you, but you were quick to catch on, lifting your hips to wiggle out of your tiny skirt. “Fuck, baby.” He breathed, eyes fixed on the way your panties clung to your damp lips. You felt your cheeks darkening.

He never had to do much to get you like this. A giggle left your lips, “You're the only one that makes me like this.” You reminded, hands reaching up to reach for his shoulders as you pulled his body down onto yours. The smile that took over his features didn't go unnoticed. His hand was fitting itself between your legs, long fingers rubbing at your folds gently.

Freehand lining the thickness of his head up with your center, and sliding all the way in with one powerful thrust. You let out a loud cry, caught off guard although you expected the intrusion. Gentle lips pressed wet kisses against your skin, allowing you the time you needed to adjust to his large size.

It didn't take long for you to get used to him being this deep inside you. Yeah, he's been gone for weeks, but your body had grown accustomed to him, always recognizing his return. Just a single roll of your hips was enough to get him to fuck forward, the breath he had been holding being let out.

He was quickly losing himself in you, forgetting if he had ever been mad in the first place. It was like he wanted to make sure you felt every last inch of him. Gradually, he was speeding up the movements of his hips, tickling the sweet spots buried deep inside of you before full-blown pounding against them.

Each thrust hit right where you needed him to, high, needy moans fell from your lips. Calls of his name as your nails dug into his back. You could feel yourself climbing higher and higher toward your release. Jungkook's hand grasped tightly on your thigh, lifting your leg to reach deeper inside of you. He was panting, sending you praise, reminding you that you were his.

Nothing else seemed to matter at this moment. Not the fact that you could be caught at any moment, the uncomfortable bend laying in the back seat of his car caused, Taehyung; it was just you two. “Kookie, I'm gonna...” You tried to tell him, the pleasure making its way into your veins and spiking through your body; cutting your sentence short.

He understood you completely, though. “Shh, I got you, baby.” He rasped, eyes finding yours in the cloudy haze of pleasure the two of you had created. He loved to see you like this, fucked out and desperate for him. His hand was sliding between your legs to find your sensitive clit, using his fingers to push you over the edge.

Nails dragged down his strong back, as you clenched down around him. With one final call of his name, you were falling apart, hips bucking and head falling back. The sight of you unraveling, was enough to push Jungkook over the edge. His head ducked into the crook of your neck, teeth, and tongue finding your salty skin. He pounded his hips powerfully into you until his body was stilling.

A drawn-out moan left your lips at the feeling of his thick release coating your pulsing walls. Warmth spread throughout your body as you began to relax under him, breath heaving as your body laid limp against Italian leather.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathed out a laugh, eyes dropping to watch his dick slip from inside of you. The mixture of your release dripped out of you and he watched, amazed. “You're my perfect girl.” He complimented with a wide smile, droopy eyes lifting to find your smiling face. “I can't believe we just-”

His words were being cut off by a sharp knock against the window just above your head. Your body sprung up, arms wrapping around your body to cover your bare chest. Wide eyes landing on an annoyed-looking Taehyung.

“You can't do that here!” He called through the glass. Jungkook was smirking, reaching for the door to roll down the window. You stopped him, only being able to imagine what type of snarky remark he was about to spew.

“We're leaving!” You called back, officially kissing your weekly tennis lessons goodbye when you saw the scowl on the older male's face. He turned with a roll of his eyes, stalking his way back up the hill. “He's an asshole,” Jungkook noted and you laughed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Just take me home, want you to fuck me properly.” He perked up at the sound of that, hands quick to adjust his jeans before he was climbing into the front seat. “You lay comfy, I'll have you home in no time.” He grinned, quick with turning the keys in the ignition.

God, you loved this man. With every fiber of your being, you loved him. He was perfect for you and you could never imagine yourself with anyone else. You were sure he felt the same, making sure that you knew it every single day. The time apart only made your heart grow fonder, made every day with him that much more special.

You wouldn't change a thing.

4K notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 8

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,175ish

Summary: Your roommates are annoyed and Gamora is determined to make you jump through hoops.

Notes: This is based off of Grey’s Anatomy 1x07. I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.

When your alarm went off, you were naked in your bed. With a naked Steve beside you. A small groan passing between his lips, Steve reached around you to turn off the alarm clock and then cuddled into you.

“Hmmm,” you hummed, enjoying his arms around you way too much. “You have to get up now.”

“What?” Steve mumbled, half asleep. “What time is it?”

You smirked, rolling on top of him. “It’s 5:20, and I have pre-rounds. And you,” you booped his nose, “have to leave before they see you.”

You gave him a small kiss before rolling off of him.

“Oh, come on, now,” Steve grumbled. “Why don’t you just let them see?” He quickly rolled on top of you, pinning you down.

“No!”

“Please!”

“No! No!”

He began placing kisses all over you. Saying, ‘please’, between eat kiss.

“Steve!” You squealed. “St-stoppp!

~~~

“You two get any sleep?” Scott asked, walking into the kitchen where Val and Clint were eating.

“Oh, she could oil the bedsprings as a courtesy or at least buy a padded headboard,” Val complained.

“So, uh, who’s the guy?” Clint asked.

“You think it was just one guy doing all that work?”

“Yeah, do you mind if I don’t think about that?”

“Oh, you jealous, Barton?” Scott teased.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Well, I am,” Val responded. “But at least I know she’ll be having a long day at work.”

They all froze when they heard a floor board near the top of the stairs squeak. The three of them rushed over to the doorway, wanting to see who was coming down the stairs. Steve snuck down the stairs and out the door, seen by Val, Clint, and Scott.

“Well, at least we know that brain surgery isn’t his only skill,” Val commented, going to get more coffee.

“They—they can’t be…” Clint stared at the front door in shock. “He’s… he’s our boss.”

“Yep,” Scott replied, glancing at his watch. “We’re late. You know, she has been scrubbing in a lot lately on his surgeries.”

“No, Y/N wouldn’t sleep with him just to… no.”

“Well, if she’s not ashamed of it, why is she keeping it a secret?” Val wondered.

“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe it just happened. You know, spontaneously, last night.”

“Good morning,” you greeted, entering the kitchen.

“Morning,” Val and Scott responded.

“So…” Val started, “it sounded like you were having some pretty radical sex last night, all night long. Who was the guy?”

“No one you know,” you lied with a shrug.

Clint, Scott, and Val all gave each other a look.

“We’re late,” Scott said. “Let’s go.”

~~~

“I’m gonna beed a major rush to make it through this day,” Clint said in the locker room. “I need a kick-ass surgery.”

“Ooh, you a bad boy last night, Clint?” Peter taunted.

“No,” Val answered for him. “That would be Y/N.”

“You a bad boy, Y/N?”

“Do tell,” Natasha urged.

“Nothing to tell,” you shrugged.

“That says it all, huh?”

Val slammed her locker door shut, annoyed at your lies.

“Sorry, I have a sex life,” you apologized.

“Don’t apologize,” Peter said. “Embrace it. Share it. Count me in.”

“Yeah, next time, just let me know if I need to go to a hotel so I can get some sleep,” Val said.

“Am I missing something?” You asked.

“You were just a little loud,” Scott replied.

Everyone left except you and Natasha.

“Do they know it’s Captain McDreamy keeping them up all night?” Natasha asked.

“I hope not,” you answered. “I already have Gamora riding me, I don’t need my roommates thinking I’m getting special treatment.”

~~~

You yawned as you and Natasha met up with the other interns and Dr. Gamora. You just hoped that you didn’t look as tired as you felt.

“Barton, Romanoff, Lang, Quill, go on to the clinic,” Gamora ordered. She looked up, catching Clint watch Steve through a window. Steve was putting in eye drops. “Barton, patients are waiting.” Clint scurried off. “You two,” Gamora motioned to you and Val, “come with me. Val, you’re hanging with me today.” Steve walked over. “Good morning, Dr. Rogers.”

“Dr. Gamora,” he replied as you yawned. “Late night, L/N?”

“No,” you responded, “caffeine just hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“If you’re at all religious, you would want to start praying it kicks in soon,” Gamora retorted. “There’s a consult in the pit. Girl with a fever and abdominal pain. After that, Lee in 3311 needs his meds. Mr. Jackson’s IV fell out, and he’s a hard stick. Post-ops in 1337, 3342, 3363, and 2381.”

You had nodded along, trying to get your tired brain to understand what she was saying. “3381, 3342, 3363,” you repeated, “and 23… 81?”

Gamora simply glared at you instead of answering what you needed. “Why are you still standing in front of me?”

You quickly hurried down to the pit, not wanting to get on Gamora’s bad side anymore than you already were. You started your consultation with an eighteen year old girl named Jessie Todd. Her mother and father were both accompanying her. Jessie seemed nervous, biting her nails.

“I think she got some bug on her trip to Mexico with her friends,” Mrs. Todd said. “I told her not to go to a third-world country, but does she ever listen?”

“She’s been weak ever since and she’s lost weight,” Mr. Todd worried.

“Barely,” Jessie mumbled.

“And this morning, she passed out in the shower.”

“When was the trip?” You asked.

“A couple weeks ago,” Jessie answered. “I’m really fine. I just have a fever.”

“Okay, well, will you lie back for an exam for me?”

“No, please, I don’t need an exam. Just give me some antibiotics and send me home.”

“Well, maybe it is just a fever, but they called down for a surgeon, so I have to give the ok to let you go. So just let me do the exam.”

“Do the exam,” Mr. Todd urged.

“No. This is crazy. I’m fine.”

“For God's sake, Jessie, I don't want to spend my entire day here,” Mrs. Todd exclaimed.

“You know, actually, Mrs. Todd, this might be easier if we had some privacy,” you told the parents, sensing that Jessie was worried about their reactions to whatever was going on. “So would you two mind leaving the room?”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Todd said, guiding his wife away.

Jessie lied down and you began to push at her stomach.

“Ow,” Jessie complained. “Don’t push so hard.”

“Can you lift your shirt so I can examine your stomach?” You requested. With a sigh, Jessie slowly lifted her shift, revealing pink scars. “Where did you get these? Jessie… you've had surgery recently. These scars are still pink.”

“Don’t tell my parents.”

“You did this in Mexico so your parents wouldn't know? What did you have done?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Jessie—“

“I can’t!”

With a sigh, you walked away, ordering a CT for Jessie before heading to help the other patients that Gamora had for you.

~~~

You at just finished Gamora’s last job for you when she paged. You were quickly to go find her.

“You paged?” You questioned, finding her near a nurses station.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“I did the consult, did the IV, the meds, the Post-ops, everything.”

“How is your pit patient?”

“She’s febrile and has peritoneal signs.”

Both you and Gamora’s attentions go to Natasha, who is walking by looking ill.

“You alright, Romanoff?” Gamora wondered, not caring all that much.

“Fine,” Natasha responded, waving it off as she kept going. “On my way back to the clinic.”

“Anyway, about the pit patient.”

“I think she had some sort of illegal surgery done in Mexico,” you stated.

“Botched abortion?”

“No. She has four laparoscopic scars on her abdomen and won't say what they're from, the parents are clueless.”

“She’s a minor.”

“Seventeen. Freshman in college.”

“You order up for a CT?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“So while she's there, the nurses couldn't get a Foley on Mr. Garay. He may need a Coude cath if you can't get a normal one in there. Write up post-op notes on all surgical-floor patients that had surgery within the last 24 hours. Be sure to document their EKG's and x-rays. Hunt them down if you can't find them.”

“Right away.”

~~~

You were exhausted by the time Jessie’s CT scans came back. Gamora was really working you to the bone. Of course, it didn’t help that you had spent most of the night up with Steve, having some of the most enjoyable sex you’ve ever had. But that wasn’t the point. Scans in hand, you found Gamora at the nurses station near the lobby.

“Dr. Gamora?” You walked up to her. “Jessie Todd’s abdominal CTs.” You handed her the scans.

She took them, holding them up to study them. “Is this girl fat?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “She’s a normal college kid.”

“So,” she handed the scans back to you, “what do you see?”

You took them back and studied them yourself. “Her stomach’s stapled. She’s had a gastric bypass.”

“And a bad one at, at that.”

Jessie Todd was moved into a patient room. So you and Gamora requested to speak to her parents outside of the hallway. You were tasked to explain to them what at happened.

“Gastric bypass is a procedure normally done on obese patients to help them lose weight,” you stated, after telling them what their daughter had done.

“Jessie?” Mr. Todd questioned. “She doesn’t need to lose weight.”

“Are you kidding?” Mrs. Todd responded. “This means the world to her. But it is so typical of this girl to take the easy way out. She's done it with everything since she was a little kid.”

“Mrs, Todd, nothing about this is gonna be easy,” Gamora said. “She's gonna face a lifelong struggle with malnutrition unless she has surgery to reverse the procedure.”

“Do the surgery,” Mrs. Todd ordered before turning to her husband. “I told her to watch the freshman 15. Don't eat junk, exercise. But when she came home Christmas, who had to take her out and buy her a brand new pair of size 6 jeans because she couldn't get in the ones I got her last summer?”

“Chrissy, you know, she tries so hard,” Mr. Todd retorted. “She does. She gets good grades. She gets A’s.”

“She had illegal surgery in Mexico.”

“Unfortunately, there were complications with the bypass,” Gamora stated.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Todd asked.

“She has what looks like an abscess under her diaphragm, and edema, which is a swelling of the bowel wall. I can't say for certain she'll recover completely.”

“Just do whatever you have to do to make her well, ok?”

“Of course, sir.”

Gamora walked away, and you stayed to check up on Jessie. It was then that Mrs. Todd entered Jessie’s room, angrily.

“Before you guys start,” Jessie quickly said, “I know you’re mad.”

“Disbelief, Jessie,” Mrs. Todd exclaimed. “Just disbelief.”

“I’m just concerned,” Mr. Todd added, much more calmly than his wife. “Where did you get the idea to do this?”

“The internet,” Jessie answered quietly.

“But, honey, there is a healthy way to lose weight,” Mrs. Todd said.

“Yeah, I tried that, but...it doesn't work for me like it does for you.”

“Hey,” Mr. Todd said, putting a hand on his daughter’s leg, “you don’t need to lose weight.”

“What are you eating?” Mrs. Todd quickly wondered. “And how much have you been working out? I mean, you know, most of the time, when people hit their target weight, they have to work to stay there.”

“Everyone gains weight in college, Mom,” Jessie responded. “It’s—it’s stressful. There’s... there's not enough time for exercise. I just thought if I wasn't worried about my diet, then… I could focus more on my studies.”

“So you took yet another shortcut? Life doesn’t work that way, Jessie.”

“Chrissy!” Mr. Todd exclaimed.

“What? You want to argue this?”

Huffing at his wife, Mr. Todd turned to you. “She has so much potential, if she would just apply herself—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, having heard enough. “I think we should focus on taking care of your daughter. And, Jessie, your parents agree, the best thing to do is to reverse the bypass.”

“No!” Jessie shouted. “No, it's my body. I do not want surgery again. Please?”

“There were serious complications. And this is about your health.”

“But I’d rather be thin.”

“Well, I’m afraid the choice isn’t up to you,” Mrs. Todd responded.

~~~

With a sigh, you found yourself pushed up against the wall in the stairwell. You were tired and so over Mrs. Todd.

“Long day?” Tony’s voice came closer.

You opened your eyes to see him walking up the stairs. “You could say that,” you responded. “How’s trying to get a date with Dr. Potts going?”

“Not so well,” he sighed, coming to leaning against the wall beside you. “I’ve been bringing her coffee or tea every morning though. I’m trying.”

“You really screwed up,” you giggled.

“You’re telling me. How are you and Steve?”

“We’re… fine.”

“He told me you were up all last night.”

“What?!”

“Okay, he didn’t tell me. But I can see how tired both of you are. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“It’s that obvious? Tony, are you serious? This could totally ruin—“

“Woah, woah, woah. Calm down there, Y/N. I’m just playing with you. Gosh, you need to take a chill pill or something.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I know we shouldn’t be doing what we are doing.”

“But you enjoy it too much to stop. I get it… I just wish I was getting some too.”

~~~

Natasha was standing in the hall looking nauseous.

“Romanoff!” Clint called, excitedly hurrying up to her. “I’m scrubbing in on a hemispherectomy with Rogers.”

“Get out!” She responded. “I would kill for that.”

“We're gonna cut out half a girl's brain and it's going to work. It's outrageous. Almost makes it hard to hate him.”

“Why do you hate him?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“You know about him and Y/N, don’t you?”

“You know?”

“When are you gonna figure out that I know everything?”

Noticing Val walking up from behind, Clint pointed at Natasha. “She knows.”

“What?” Val questioned. “About Y/N and the Captain?”

“It’s been going on for, like ever,” Natasha commented.

“Seriously?”

“And you didn’t tell us?” Clint wondered.

“Ooh, you’re a gossip, huh?” Natasha responded.

“I am not!”

“I am,” Val said.

“He’s about to go into major brain surgery on no sleep? Not very responsible.”

“Jealous much?” Natasha chuckled. “Sex all night isn't about being responsible.”

“No,” Val agreed, “it’s about sex all night. I can't believe you're not more pissed off about this, you of all people.”

“Well, Y/N works hard all day. She’s good at her job. Why should you care how she unwinds? I mean, you like to bake all night. Some people like to drink. Others like an occasional screaming orgasm.”

~~~

Gamora and you were carefully operating on Jessie in the OR. Gamora was letting you help with more than you thought she would.

“Handle with care,” Gamora advised as she handed you Jessie’s bowel. “This things—“

“Full of gunk,” you responded. “I know.”

“We need to free the bowel from the adhesions caused from the abscess. This poor girl. What was she thinking?”

“She wants her mother's approval. She wanted to please her.”

“And this damage is the result? Here, resect that.”

“Needle-tip Bovie, please,” you requested, handing the bowel back to Gamora.

“When you’re done here, you have post-ops waiting.”

“I know, Dr. Gamora.”

“Natasha also has the flu. So, you need to pick up the slack in the clinic as well.”

“Look, I’ll mop the floors, okay?” That earned you a glare from Gamora. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“It's not the only thing that's inappropriate. While we're on the subject, you care to tell me what you think you're doing?”

“Look, I'll jump through hoops if you want me to. But what I do what I leave this hospital is my business.”

“Half this hospital knows your business. Flu isn't the only virus spreading around here.”

“I made a choice, and I know you don't respect me for that choice. But I'll live with the consequences.”

“Then I'll have lots of hoops for you to jump through.”

“I've done everything you've asked me to do. I may not do it your way but it gets done. So whatever else you got, bring it on.”

Suddenly, Jessie’s bowel burst. Spraying you with toxic waste. You could hear the people watching in the gallery go, ‘ew’.

“Okay, Dr. L/N, now that you’ve drained the organ, we can attempt to repair it,” Gamora said.

“Now my day is perfect,” you muttered.

The nurses tried to clean you up the best they could as you operated. Though they seemed to only make it worse. After the surgery, you and Gamora headed out into the hallway together.

“I need a shower,” you commented.

“No, I need a shower,” Gamora retorted. “You need to go tell that girl's parents what kind of kid they're getting back.”

“You're not gonna let me shower first?”

“That would be a hoop, would it not?”

“It would qualify.”

“Shower first, then.”

You rushed to the locker room. Val and Natasha were already there.

“Ew, what smells?” Val asked as you passed her.

“That would be me,” you answered, "or more specifically, my patient's insides all over me.”

“That makes me strangely happy.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Natasha grimaced, “you smell like—“

“Karma.”

“What?” You asked Val.

“Nothing.”

“Something vile is stuck in your hair,” Natasha told you, pointing to your hairline. “You know, just go stand over there, please.” She shooed you to the other side of the aisle.

“Ugh, how much do I love being a surgeon right now?” You mumbled.

“Karma,” Val laughed.

“What does karma have to do with anything?”

“I'm just saying, you've been given all the best surgeries. And now you smell like putrid goo. And you're giving off a stench. Karma's a bitch.”

Gamora walked into the locker room. “Dr. Rogers needs an intern in surgery,” she stated. “Which one of you is clear?”

“I’m good!” Natasha raised her hand. She was still looking pale. “Where do you want me?”

“You need to lie down somewhere.”

“I’m fine, I’m completely healthy.”

“L/N?”

“Of course,” Val grumbled.

“What is your problem?” You asked Val, annoyed.

“Um, you! Cause apparently you can help Captain McDreamy in ways the rest of us can’t.”

“You did not just say th—“

“Yes, I did!”

“Hey!” Gamora called out. “Natasha, hemispherectomy in OR 1 with Dr. Shepherd. Go.”

Natasha nodded and hurried away. Val marched off as well.

“Apparently, I’m not the only one with hoops,” Gamora smirked.

~~~

After showering, you found Mrs. and Mr. Todd in the lobby. As you walked, you explained to them what had gone on in surgery.

“We were able to reverse the gastric bypass, but we did lose a significant portion of her bowel,” you told them. “And because of the short gut syndrome, Jessie will never eat normally again.”

“Ok, wait, do…” Mr. Todd tried to put his thoughts together. “How do we help her here?”

“Well, getting proper nutrition will be a lifelong problem for Jessie.”

“Great,” Mrs. Todd murmured, annoyed, “as if we already don't have our hands full with her.”

“She gets good grades. She stays out of trouble. She's smart. I just think she feels like nothing she does is good enough for you.”

“If you somehow think that I'm responsible for this…”

“I think Jessie is killing herself to please you.”

“Oh, please. You have no idea what's going on in that girl's mind.”

“You're her mother. She worships the ground you walk on. She didn't do this for herself.”

“I think that this situation is completely—“

“Chrissy, shut up,” Mr. Todd interrupted.

Both you and Mrs. Todd looked shocked as Mr. Todd walked faster to Jessie’s room.

~~~

Clint had had an interesting day, to say the least. He had discovered that the anesthesiologist in Steve’s surgery was drunk. Bringing up to Dr. Rogers, both the anesthesiologist and Dr. Rogers got mad, throwing him out of the surgery. Which is why he needed another intern.

Durning the surgery, Natasha and Dr. Rogers quickly realized that Clint had been right. Allowing Natasha and another doctor to close, Steve requested Clint to met him outside of the OR.

“Let me explain,” Steve began.

“It’s fine,” Clint responded.

“No, there is a code among doctors. We're not supposed to ask each other questions, not within the walls of this hospital.”

“Okay, so, I was out of line.”

“No, you weren't. I was. I was out of line. Somebody should have taken responsibility. It should have been the guy doing the cutting. It should have been me. You didn't deserve what happened to you today. You did the right thing code or no code.” Steve held out his hand for Clint to shake. Hesitantly, Clint shook it. “You saw me leave the house this morning, didn’t you?”

Clint pulled his hand away. “Oh, was that you?”

“Hmm. I’m not using her. And I don’t favor her.”

“She’s pretty great, you know.”

“Mm-hmm. I know.”

~~~

You went to Jessie, getting her into a wheel chair so that you can walk her around while talking to her alone. You had made a phone call, and you needed to tell her about it.

“Did you fix me?” Jessie asked, after the two of you walked in silence for awhile.

“No, not completely,” you responded.

“So, I won’t get fat?”

“No.”

“Oh. That’s awesome.”

“Jessie, I’ve asked social services to contact your parents.”

“What? Why?”

“They can help you.”

“With what?”

“You don't know this yet, but life isn't supposed to be like this. It's not supposed to be this hard. And your mom… she isn’t suppose to treat you this way.”

~~~

You were so extremely grateful when you were finally allowed to go home. It was late, so you were expecting your roommates to be asleep. When you entered the kitchen, you found Val frosting a cake.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” you commented, searching for food.

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” Val retorted. “If you wait a few minutes, you can have a piece of cake. Baked it chock-full of love. Actually, chock-full of unrelenting, all consuming rage and hostility, but it's still tasty.”

“So you know?”

“I know.”

“Well, do you want the long, sordid version, or do you want the short version, where I started sleeping with a guy who turned out to be my boss?”

“Neither.”

“Val, cut me some slack here.”

“No. You went to Dartmouth. Your parents— don’t get me started on that. I know you’re trying to hide who your parents are. But I know. You grew up— look at this house! You know, you walk into the OR, and there isn’t anyone who doubts that yo should be there. I… I grew up in a trailer park. I went to state school. I put myself through med school by posing in my underwear. You know, I walk into the OR, and everyone hopes I'm the nurse. Y-you have their respect without even trying, and you're throwing it away for...what? A few good surgeries?”

“No. It's not about the surgeries. It's not about getting ahead.”

“Then what? A little hot sex? You're willing to ruin your credibility over that? I mean, Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” You huffed, shaking your head. “Oh, my… you’re falling for him.”

“I am not.”

“Oh, you so are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You so are. Damn it, you poor girl.”

“You know, it's just that he's just so… And I'm just… I'm having a hard time.”

"Wow, you're all, uh, mushy and… warm and full of secret feelings.” Val handed you a piece of cake.

“I hate you!” You snatched the cake from her. “And your cake.”

“My cake is good. So, um, how hot is the sex?”

“Val.”

“What? Come on, my girlfriend broke up with me, I’m not getting any. Help a girl out with a few details.”

~~~

Steve showed up at your door an hour later, exhausted as well. You two headed up to your bedroom. You were both on either side of the bed, pulling back the covers.

“You know,” Steve slurred, “we could just…”

“Sleep?” You finished.

“We could, yeah, if… if you want to.”

“Yeah?”

You both crawled into bed. You turned off the lamp beside you before cuddling into Steve’s side. He reached over and turned off the lamp at his side.

“I could get used to this,” you whispered, falling asleep.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #gamora x reader #peter quill x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #scott lang x reader #tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #steve rogers imagine #Steve Rogers

138 notes · View notes

llogllady99 · 4 years ago

Text

Au revoir

CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Hange, Mike, Nanaba, Petra, Kuchel

RELATIONSHIPS | Erwin x Levi, Mike x Nanaba, Petra x Hange

GENRE | Reincarnation, Smut, Romance

IV | Alternate Universe- Reincarnation. Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Romance, Smut, Angst and fluff and smut, French Levi, Student Levi, Writer Erwin, Light angst, Alternate Universe - Coffee shops.

Summary | “Puis-je vous aider ?” That voice, the familiar voice. It rang through his head and brought back memories of the man he had tried to find for so long. He lifted his gaze and was met with the sight of no one other than Levi freaking Ackerman, cleaning a cup, completely oblivious to him.“

Levi.”

Erwin and Levi meet again in the modern world.Series

Levi will never admit to anyone that he thoroughly enjoyed reading romance novels. Yes, they were a bit too cheesy for his liking and maybe some of the passage were kind of forced, but the way they made his stomach drop and heart flutter was enough to keep him buying one novel after another. His first novel of such kind was: Madame Bovary, a book which he stole when his mother was away at work. At the green age of 12 Levi hid in the house’s library, right behind the couch and began absorbing the words hungrily, gaping and gasping in shock whenever Emma’s affair with Rodolphe or Leon would appear in the book. He didn’t necessarily enjoy the story as it was quite bland compared to the romcoms he and his mother would watch on Sundays, but was instead mesmerised by the rose scented perfume that lingered among the pages, a phenomenon which he didn’t encounter in other books because, as his mother told him later, Madame Bovary had been a vessel for Kuchel to deliver her love letters to the post office back when she was younger.

Coincidently, Levi was now holding the same book, enjoying it with a little more fervour and fascination as he himself, in his twenty-one years of life, had experienced some form or pretence of love at some point with maybe two or three of his lovers. Wetting his finger he turned the page and finished what was left of the chapter he was currently reading. He let the book down and stared out the window of the train he was embarked on in other to return to his childhood home: Marseille, France.

Levi remembered his past life. This life had treated him extremely kindly, almost as if the universe was apologising for the hell it put him through the last one. He was born and raised in the countryside, his childhood being characterised by stealing from vineyards, scraped knees, and dirty faces, a fun and ideal childhood. His mother, although having gone through a divorce when he was small, was now well and alive, indulging herself with a quality lifestyle and relaxing hobbies; his home forever full of jamon, quality wine, fresh sea food, and oil paintings in easels adjourning his hilltop village house’s balcony crowded with red boungainvillea. He had met Hange and Petra in the same village at the sea on a hot summer’s day, introducing himself brusquely, startling the girls, who lacked even an inch of recognition for him in their eyes. Levi quickly realised that not everyone remembered their past life and as such he should keep quiet. Nonetheless, the three quickly became inseparable, their bond not destroyed but only slightly deterred when him and Hange left for university, leaving Petra back home alone. Levi had left to study architecture at the university of Sorbonne and Hange to England to study Medicine at the Imperial College of London, surprising both herself and her friends when she had only applied at the university on a whim not even half expecting to get accepted, but she was the smartest person he knew and if anyone deserved it then it would undoubtedly be her.

Apart from them, Levi had not encountered anyone else from his past life, and by anyone else he only meant Erwin, his blonde, tall, and handsome commander. It was a disappointment that after so much time he still hadn’t managed to meet him, one which left him with an enormous hole in his stomach that would only get bigger every time he allowed himself to think about his past lover. He eventually lost hope and stopped looking for him all together. He had not told Hange and Petra about him however, instead choosing to keep his existence and unsuccessful search all to himself. After all, it is simply expression that gives reality to things. Never mind the fact that he would sound batshit crazy, but if he would have opened his mouth and openly voice the fact that he had not found him yet, then there would have been chances of not meeting him at all. He was still clinging to a thin thread of hope that Erwin will keep his promise of them reuniting again eventually.

At once, the train pulled in Marseille’s train station with a deafening horn, its locomotive letting out clouds of white vapour that swirled fast up in the azure sky, and announced its passengers that they have reached their destination. Levi stepped on the platform, and dragging his black suitcase behind him, he inhaled the fresh country air as a warm feeling came over him. He had arrived home.

On the other side of the globe, free lance writer Erwin Smith was packing his suitcase hurriedly, throwing clothes chaotically in his suitcase. He was terribly late for his flight.

Summer always turned unbearably hot in Miami, the dry heat and the omnipresent smell of sweat managing to deeply irritate Erwin. That had been his initial plan for the summer: change shirt after shirt as he walked the road from his apartment, a small 2 bedroom space that lacked air conditioners and that would turn into a literal oven during the hotter months of the year, and his publisher. Therefore, when Mike and Nanaba invited him to celebrate together their anniversary in Marseille, France, he didn’t hesitate to agree, he actually did with so much desperation that he worried even himself. He had quickly called his publisher making up some shitty excuse to extend his deadline, spattering something about how the sweet mediterranean breeze will to wonders to his inspiration. He lied, and quite horribly so, he had finished the chapter he was due but hadn’t edited it yet, a chore which he assigned himself for when he would return. Quickly closing his suitcase and praying that he didn’t leave everything behind, he ran out the apartment and waved his arm frantically in the direction of a cab that happened to be passing by.

Erwin also happened remembered his past life, something he cursed and treasured at the same time. He treasured the memory of Levi but cursed whenever he would wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat screaming as he felt the phantom pain from when he lost him arm, something that had somehow followed him into this life also. Just like Levi, Erwin also learned that not everyone remembered their past life. His first such experience had been when he woke up screaming when he was small due to a very unpleasant memory, one filled with titans, blood and the death of his comrades. His father had come to comfort him but dismissed everything as just a nightmare that sprouted from Erwin’s wild imagination. At the age of 16 he started writing everything he remembered before being reincarnated and then at the age of 24 after graduating from university he published a book retelling his story. Society, just like his father, quickly dismissed it under the false and shallow pretension of fiction. Erwin didn’t mind, and at an interview when he was asked what had inspired him to write such a masterpiece, he simple answered: “It’s as if I’ve lived this life before”. In retrospect, a bold statement, but one that had triggered incredulous looks and nervous laughs. It didn’t matter, as long as he was the one that knew the truth.

At the airport, he was met with a very angry Nanaba, that proceeded to punch him in the shoulder as soon as she spotted him coming through the automatic sliding doors, dressed with cargo short pants, white t-shirt and one of those hawaiian shirts, espadrilles not missing from completing his outfit. He apologised and shook Mike’s hand, that came up from Nanaba, trying to calm his petite lover from ending Erwin’s life then and there. His friends, like everyone else he had become acquainted with in this life, did not remember their past lives. They had met in college when he tried to hit on Nanaba and earned himself a punch from Mike, who apologised shortly after and bought him a drink.

“You are well aware we’re going to France, right?” Mike eyed his outfit, and scrunched his nose in something close but not quite to disgust.

“The eccentric writer facade ain’t holding up anymore, you seriously need to change outfits.” Nanaba also joined in.

“I was up writing, thence the messy outfit. I do actually have fancy clothes packed.” Erwin retorted, trying to save himself from their scrutinising gazes.

“Good, because I want to enjoy some of those pretentious wines they’re so famous from at one of those expensive terraces that overlook the sea without wanting to crawl under the table from being seen with a hobo like you. Now come on, plane’s not waiting for anyone.” Nanaba flipped him off, her way of reprimanding him.

“Au revoir America, bien venue France!” Erwin exclaimed, mixing french with english.

“How much did it take to learn those?” Mike asked, amused.

“Only 3 thorough Duolingo lessons, of course.”

Levi pushed the door of the little vintage cafe open and was immediately met with the sight of Hange engaging in quite a heated make-out session with Petra. His arrival at home yesterday was met with nothing more than pure joy, as he was bombarded by his mother’s kisses as soon as he walked into the house. They spent a quiet evening on the balcony, enjoying some tea and simply talking the evening away. It felt good to return, he missed the salted air, the chilly breeze, the pink flowers and green bushes, and the exquisite view of the mediterranean sea. Later, when the mosquitoes had started to annoy them, Levi and Kuchel retired back inside the living room, where he was urged by her to play her favourite piece on the piano that had dust on it from never being used anymore. Upon the arrival of the next day, Levi headed to Petra’s cafe, a small vintage shop, which she had opened up quite recently after successfully raising the funds necessary. It was right in the middle of the hill, its glass windows giving a clear view of the stony road and orange coloured walls and roads of the city.

“You guys should get a room, it’s gross.” He said, not one bit of disgust lacing his words. He truly was happy to see his friends again.

“Levi!!!!!” Hange squealed and broke away from Petra, practically jumping over the counter before she threw herself in his arms, hugging him tightly. Petra’s behaviour was hardly any different, surging on the other two and tumbling all three of them down to the floor. They stayed like that for a few minutes until the first customer of the day arrived with an awkward cough to get their attention. For the rest of the day, they chatted quietly, each with a cup of special Petra coffee in their hands, reminiscing about old childhood memories and the things they did while they were apart. Hange had successfully landed an internship at a renowned research company back in London and Petra bought her first place, somewhere they would surely go after she closed the cafe.

“So how’s it going for you Levi? You seeing anyone?” Hange interrupted a peaceful silence then took another sip of her coffee, eyeing him curiously.

“Well, no not really. I guess I’m still waiting for the right person.” Levi replied, his mind drifting off involuntarily to Erwin.

“That’s a pity, tell him Petra!”

“I guess so.” The strawberry blonde sighed, scrubbing the counter. She looked troubled, stressed if Levi knew any better.

“Everything all right?” He asked, hoping she would tell him what was bothering her.

“Theoretically yes, the cafe’s been growing in popularity and the number of costumers has increased exponentially and it has become harder and harder for me to keep up. It’s afternoon and I’m already exhausted.”

“Hire someone to help you.” He offered.

“I would have, I even put up a sign a while ago asking for help, but it’s summer and you know how it is. Everyone would rather bathe than work.” Petra leaned on the counter, huffing exhausted.

“You know, Hange and I could help you if you’d like, until the summer’s end and till you find someone.” Levi scooted over closer to Petra and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Sure! There is nothing we’d rather do, Pet.” Hange joined in, assuring her girlfriend.

“You guys, thank you.” Petra smiled brightly, exhaling in relief.

Their first day in Marseille had been spent at the beach until they were all fried. Well, Erwin had managed to get a nice tan, save for the red slight burns on his shoulders, those didn’t count. Nanaba had made sure to use sunscreen, but with her pale skin tone, she had turned into a lobster by mid afternoon. Deciding that it was enough sun for today, the three settled on exploring the city, in particular the ports, where smell of fresh caught fish would imbue their noses, the hill village, the sights recommended on the internet, like the colourful Noailles Market, Musée des Civilisatons de l’Europe et de la Méditerranée, and following a maniacal Nanaba that sprinted through every shop in La Panier.

As six o’clock came by, hunger made its presence known in their stomachs, they started searching for a restaurant. With an immense amount of luck and without too much time spent looking, the three had found themselves in Restaurant Peron, escorted to a four persons table right next to the clear glass that provided them with an extraordinary view of the sea, admiring the calm relentless waves and snow white moon that reflected itself on the clear water. When the waiter came, Erwin ordered, putting on his best french accent.

“Un Ricard, s’il vous plait.” He managed to make a fool out of himself, sounding exactly like an ignorant American. Un Ricard was an alcoholic beverage made with aniseed and spice that turns an enticing shade of yellow once water is added, a local must try. Nanaba ordered herself an Aperol sprits and Mike a whiskey on the rocks. The waiter bowed and went to get their drinks. While they waited the three engaged in casual conversation, their voices accompanied by the low murmur of the sea and other people’s conversation.

“I believe this has been quite a successful weekend, don’t you think, honey?” Nanaba asked Mike, leaning her face on her hands.

“Indeed. Happy 5th Anniversary, Nanaba!” Mike kissed her cheek tenderly. Erwin watched the display with nothing more than pure envy. It wasn’t fair that they had found each other despite not knowing their past life, it was utterly infuriating and it made Erwin seethe with anger and frustration, both emotions directed more at himself because he had not found him yet, Levi, his lover, his everything.

“Excuse me, monsieur. I brought the drinks.” The waiter interrupted them, making Erwin forever grateful as he was not sure how much more he could bare. He bowed and retrated, leaving them to enjoy their drinks. The Ricard Pastis Erwin had ordered had a creamy texture and yellow colour, bringing the glass to his lips, he tasted it, immediately scrunching up his nose from how strong it was. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to it, god knows his college years hard served for so much, so many nights spent drowning vodka and absinth bottles, he just hadn’t expected it to be so strong, he thought it would be like Nanaba’s Aperol, slightly bitter and sweet. Mike was sipping slowly on his whiskey and asked:

“Any plans for tomorrow?”

“How about we stick to just visiting the town, my skin can’t take any more sun.” Nanaba proposed, hinting to her burnt shoulders that were covered with a very nice white blouse. Mike and Erwin both agreed.

Levi fumbled with the speakers’ wire trying to get them to connect with his phone. It was his first shift today together with Petra, Hange will come later tonight to take his place, something completely unnecessary as he would stay anyway. It was his turn to choose the playlist and he resorted to a simple jazz playlist that would blend in nicely in the background acting as white noise. Once that was settled, he wrapped around himself the black apron with the shop’s logo on it and went up to the counter, patiently waiting for the first costumer.

Their second day in Marseille was spent indulging in even more sightseeing. Nanaba woke them up at the crack of dawn, excited and completely oblivious to Mike’s and Erwin’s sower moods, dragging them with her to their first destination: Basilique Notre-Dame de la Garde. Located in a breathtaking hilltop, this spectacular church is the most important landmark in Marseilles. The site was used in ancient times as an observation point, and during the Middle Ages, was the location of a pilgrimage chapel. Erwin enjoyed the renaissance architecture, admiring the big hemispherical dome with a big golden cross on top of it, the golden statuette of what he reckoned was Virgin Mary, the symmetrical high arches, and smaller, little angel statues. It was truly a sight to behold. Their next destination was also a historical landmark: Abbaye Saint-Victor, a house of worship once belonged to an abbey founded in the 5th century. The abbey's basilica is one of the oldest buildings in Marseilles that is still intact, with foundations dating back to Early Christian and Carolingian times. With its crenellated walls and towers, the foreboding exterior has the feel of a medieval fortress. Inside, the basilica reveals a simple and somber design, which gives it a special aura. The crypt houses sarcophagi of the 4th and 5th centuries, as well as the 11th-century tombstone of Abbot Isarnus. It fascinated Erwin immensely, so much so that he filled his gallery with the amount of selfies and normal pictures he took.

He lied when he said he would find his inspiration here, but he was not so sure that it was true. The city’s architecture and overall way of being, from the local’s lifestyle, to its history and vibe, Erwin was sure to use all of this while working on his new book. Wether he would add a spin off in the book, or make references and parallels to everything he saw here.

It was now mid-afternoon and Erwin was exhausted, the sun constantly warming his head had not done a great job of comforting him in the slightest. They were now in Le Panier again, Nanaba having decided that she did not see all of it the day before and that it was absolutely mandatory they go again. Not wanting to be a burden, although he would have much rather gone to his room, Erwin agreed and set on following closely the two before him who were very much engrossed in their own little world. The old town, like any other part of Marseille they had visited, was also magnificent, with its romanesque architecture, houses that were colourful and joined together, and paved streets. It also housed a lot of shade, making him able to cool down and gather up whatever strength he had left.

The thirst he had tried to ignore for the better part of the day had become unbearable, his throat dry like a desert. As such, Erwin made it his mission to find some place from where he could purchase a water bottle. They passed by jewellery stores and artisan themed shops, displaying their handmade products, like dresses with weird designs from cottons, crystals, wooden scultpures, etc. Finally, in a corner, they had found a small cafe: Haricots vapeur de Petra. Quite a long name for a cafe but who was he to judge. He asked Nanaba and Mike if they wanted to join him but they quickly refused, instead choosing to go ahead. Erwin announced them that they will be seeing each other at the hotel before dinner. That way he could spare a few hours relaxing at the small tables placed outside the cafe, enjoying whatever drinks they were serving. He pushed the front door open and was immediately assaulted by the scent of fresh brewed coffee. The cafe was very nice, inside was quite chilly as there was the air conditioner blowing. Its walls were made of brick, from them hanging several plants, portraits, and drawings of people having coffee and the like. It had small circular tables with purple plush chairs that contrasted perfect to the black counter that housed pastries of all kinds: croissants (of course), pains au chocolate, cinnamon rolls, and macarons of all kinds of colours. It was just like an ordinary American cafe.

“Puis-je vous aider ?” That voice, the familiar voice. It rang through his head and brought back memories of the man he had tried to find for so long. He lifted his gaze and was met with the sight of no one other than Levi freaking Ackerman, cleaning a cup, completely oblivious to him.

“Levi."

“Levi.”

That voice. It couldn’t be could it? Levi refused to look up, he was imagining things, it was because of the song, the song he played the man a life time ago. We’ll meet again was playing through the cafe’s speakers, it was only natural he would be thinking back to when he visited Erwin’s grave one last time. With his hands now shaking he continued to clean the glass even more frantically, wiping away inexistent water, droplets he imagined were still there.

“Levi, is that you?” Once would be considered a coincidence, but twice? Finally, the raven haired boy looked up, only to have his breath stuck in his throat. Right in front of him was Erwin freaking Smith, the man he loves even to this day, the time spent together and the promises still so fresh in his mind. Erwin had kept his promise, he found Levi.

“Erwin.” Levi croaked, overwhelmed by emotions. He ran around the counter, stopping for a moment in front of his lover to look at him again. Erwin was exactly the same, except for an almost unnoticeable tan, his hair was now sitting comfortably on his forehead, instead of being styled back with gel. Levi jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around the other's waist so tight, afraid to let go as he might disappear, proving only to be a figment of his imagination. He buried his face into Erwin's neck, inhaling the scent of cologne, sweat, and sunscreen. His lover snaked his hands around his waist and held him tightly, in the same desperate manner. Pulling away, Levi looked into his eyes again, relieved to see the same warm sapphire blue orbs staring right back at him. They were whole again, together again. Unable to hide his excitement anymore, the raven brought their lips together in a kiss, one in which they poured all of their emotions, the longing, love, and relief they had for one another were all present.

“Tu m’as trouvé!” Levi pulled back, out of breath.

“English please.” Erwin chuckled, running a hand through his hair, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his year before putting him down. Levi looked at him in confusion. If Erwin didn’t know french then that meant…

“We should perhaps talk. Wait here for a moment please.” He told him, pulling his hand away from where it was intertwined with the other’s. Taking a step back, he began untying his apron, then turned on his feet to head to the back where Petra was, baking pastries probably.

“Petra, can you cover for me? Something came up. Hange should be here soon, I hope you don’t mind.” At the sound of his voice, Petra turned around just as she was leaning down to grab the tray with freshly baked pastries from the oven. She searched his face, noticing the look of bewilderment, and made to grab his arm in comfort. Levi pulled away.

“I’ll tell you later, but please let me go!” Levi all but begged, making Petra shake her head with wide eyes as she still didn’t understand what was going on.

“Call me if anything happens.” She demanded. Levi thanked her then bolted out back to the front of the cafe where Erwin was waiting awkwardly in the door, never actually having left the spot. As soon as the blonde spotted him, he offered the other the usual warm smile.

“Why don’t you speak french, Erwin.” Levi asked him and gestured for the other to follow him out the cafe. Once outside they started walking on the direction of Levi’s house, unbeknownst yet to Erwin.

“I’m actually a tourist.” Erwin murmured, understanding finally the graveness of their situation.

“Where are you from then?” Levi croaked, his disappointment taking the best of him.

“USA, came here on vacation with some friends.”

“Américain.” Levi spat, his frustration finally showing. “How are we going to make it work Erwin?”

“I don’t know Levi, I believe that’s a problem for another time. I’m here for another week, let’s enjoy ourselves shall we?” Erwin took his hand and kissed it in an assuring manner, smiling again.

“Okay.”

And enjoy themselves they did. Making sure that Kuchel was out, Levi brought Erwin to his house, taking him through every room while he talked about his childhood, his vocabulary limited because his english wasn’t very good. Fortunately, Erwin was patient and didn’t push him, instead helped him by filling in the gaps with google translate or by using his own words when he understood the direction the story was headed in. At some point, they stumbled upon the piano and the blonde urged him to play it, Levi complying not only by second nature, thinking involuntarily to their time on their battlefield, but also by desire, pouring his heart and soul into each and every key he pressed, eliciting sounds that would later formed the master piece named Canon in D major. Erwin listened intently, absorbing every sound Levi produced, his gaze focused solely and completely on him. His lover playing the piano was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. The onyx black hair hung loosely in the air as Levi played, his brows furrowing in concentration, and shoulders tensing when he lifted each hand over the keyboard.

As the song came to an end, unable to hold himself back anymore, Erwin scooped Levi up in his arms and brought him to the couch, the other straddling his waist. It was all too much, the smell of Levi, the feel of Levi, the smooth alabaster skin, silky hair, minty breath, and citrus smelling musk. Levi, Levi, Levi. Erwin brought their lips together in a heated kiss, introducing his tongue shortly after, probing the entrance then entering fully. For a while, that was all they did. They kissed like teenagers, running their hands through each other’s bodies, remapping and rediscovering them. Slowly, Levi became more demanding and started to undo Erwin’s shirt, pulling it down his shoulders and caressed his hand over his chest, playing with the curly strands of blond hair that lined it, although scarce. He then kissed his neck and clavicle. All the while, Erwin had been undressing Levi, his fingers now at his entrance, working slowly but steadily their way in. In his arms, the raven writhed, low moans filling the room.

Done with the stretching, Erwin positioned himself at the other’s entrance, entering him slowly as to not hurt him. Once he was fully seated, he waited for Levi’s signal to move, a slow nod in the pit of his neck shortly after. Their rhythm was slow at first, an occasion to feel each other out, but as their moans got louder in volume, the pace, inevitably increased, turning the love making session into something more rushed and more carnal. They had all week ahead of them, they had plenty of time for slow and passionate love later. After a few more minutes each of them reached their climax, Levi first by tensing all of the sudden, his mouth open in a silent scream, then Erwin shortly after with a low groan. The smaller of the two slumped his forehead against the other’s chest and tried to recover, his panting waning.

“I love you.” Erwin brought his lover’s head up and looked him straight in the eye. Levi replied with a lop-sided me too before retaking his position in the crook of his neck, where he shortly passed out, the physical and emotional effort from the day finally taking their toll on his petite frame.

For the rest of the week, Levi showed Erwin the rest of Marseille, taking him sailing with Petra and Hange, snorkelling in the turquoise water, dining in other less famous restaurants that harboured a magnificent view nonetheless, and hiking. Levi also got to meet Nanaba and Mike, a meeting that was awkward at first but then turned casual as the chemistry they had in their past life never had quite gone away. It was now their last day, and they both chose to organise a brunch on a boat Erwin offered to rent. It had started out great, the interactions between the rest of the group going smoothly, but as night inched closer, Levi grew significantly more and more upset. The reason, revealed to him that night when they were alone, tucked in bed together, was none other than Erwin’s departure. It was time to say goodbye, their short week of heaven brought to an end by force of circumstance, a tragic end to an equally beautiful story. A soulmate who was not meant to be, at least not in this lifetime. They could try a long distance relationship, but that was inconvenient for both of them, they would soon fall apart, each having to take care of their lives. Levi had to work towards a degree and Erwin towards finishing a new book.

“Don’t go.” Levi suddenly croaked, turning towards him and taking his hands, kissing each of their knuckles. “I don’t want you leaving me again.”

Erwin turned his head away in thought. He was a writer, he could basically work from anywhere. In Paris he was sure to find a good publisher, working while also living with Levi in his apartment. If he put in a little effort he might manage it. But what about Nanaba and Mike? Would they understand? Would they still maintain their bond? Is he willing to give everything up for Levi? Erwin furrowed his brows, concentrating and thinking even more. Of course, he would go to the end of the earth for Levi, would rip his heart out of his chest and give it to him. Therefore, he voiced the only obvious answer for his lover’s request:

“I’ll stay.”

At the airport the next day Erwin hugged Levi and kissed him on the cheek, bidding his goodbye to his lover. After accepting to stay, they both decided that it would be best for Erwin to return to the states to get his affairs into order and when he would be finished he would return back to France and start his new life with Levi. So, with a waving hand, Erwin fell into step with Nanaba and Mike, who were waiting in line to board the plane. Levi smiled his way and said:

“Au revoir, Erwin Smith.”

58 notes · View notes

willowworkswithwords · 3 years ago

Note

hello :) how about 12 for the dialogue prompts with snips & skyguy?

Anon, my sincerest of apologies for filling this so long after your request! I hit a bit of writer's block and lack of writing time, unfortunately. But I finally did it! I had a great time writing this, getting back into the groove.

Thank you for this request, Anon!!

I don't know which prompt list this one is from anymore, but my BTHB card is open!

--- or read on ao3 ---

Anakin’s heart dropped through his boots

“When? Are they critical? I’ll be there in three hours,” he said, flicking switches and yanking his ship into gear. Master Che sighed on her end of the holocall.

“Skywalker, when you get here, there’s something you need to know.”

Anakin hadn’t thought more dread could fill his body, but in that moment, he was drowning in it. He didn’t let himself look away from the controls, pushing he ship to its limit. Master Che seemed to understand that he was still listening.

“Young Ahsoka hasn’t left Obi-Wan’s side since they got here. She nearly bit the fingers off one of my padawan healers. I’m not sure how cognizant she is right now. She won’t eat and she won’t let us put in an IV. There’s nothing I can do when she’s withdrawn consent.”

Anakin closed his eyes, letting a rush of breath out through his nose, lips pressed in a thin line he knew resembled his master’s own fed-up grimace.

“You must not get angry with her, Anakin. Obi-Wan put himself in harm’s way to save her, but we lost him twice on the table and Ahsoka saw. She wouldn’t leave the room. All she believes right now is that her grandmaster is on the brink because he was saving her.”

Anakin opened his eyes and met Master Che’s.

“I’ll be there in two.”

He signed off and pushed his ship faster, praying to the Force equal parts in fear and thankfulness.

They’re alive, that’s all that matters.

---

He made it to the Temple in an hour and a half and parked the ship with the sound of sirens right behind him, but he ran into the Temple without looking back. For now the Temple Guard could deal with them.

Despite both himself and his master hating the Halls, Anakin knew how to get there from any point in the Temple, and he found himself in the entry faced with Master Che within minutes. When he was a child her towering stature was foreboding, but with age and height he’d learned she wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared.

Though she never did let him forget that she could and would stick him with hypos, any day any time. The same threat stood for Obi-Wan, and it seemed it might soon apply to Ahsoka too.

Now though, she had a grit in her eyes that Anakin knew meant trouble if the stubborn patient wasn’t dealt with soon.

“Follow me, Skywalker.”

The Halls were always busy nowadays. The war never slept and neither did healers; Master Che’s shoulders slumped, and her usual brisk pace was half a step slower than normal, which meant it had been a few shifts since she’d taken her own medical advice.

They came into the ICU, an open hall with privacy curtains half-drawn around all the beds. Anakin saw the orange of his padawan’s lek before he saw the state of his master. He felt the waves of grief and guilt from Ahsoka, confusion and pain from Obi-Wan. Anakin winced and Master Che sighed.

“We’ve given him all the painkillers we can for now,” Master Che said, slowing her walk to check around a couple curtains. “He’s been here for about thirty-six hours, and so has your padawan.”

“Thank you, Master Che,” Anakin bowed and sent her a tired smile. “I’ll so what I can for Ahsoka.”

She nodded his way, focus already resettled on another critical patient, this one with no visitors by their side. As Anakin walked away she pulled out a stool from beneath the bed and settled beside them.

Turning toward the curtained area with Ahsoka and Obi-Wan, Anakin walked himself through a breathing exercise Obi-Wan had taught him years ago. Now was not the time to get angry or let his own guilt eat away at him. He needed to focus on Ahsoka so they could focus on Obi-Wan. His old master would never let him hear the end of it if Ahsoka’s health was cast to the wayside for his sake.

Anakin stepped around the curtain but Ahsoka didn’t move an inch. She was sat on the edge of the visitor’s chair, hunched over the side of Obi-Wan’s bed with his right hand tucked between both of her own, her forehead resting on top. Her eyes were closed but Anakin could still see the exhaustion, the tension threaded through her. She wasn’t asleep, but Master Che’s word rang in his mind.

I don’t know how cognizant she is right now. She’s refusing medical care.

Damn their stubborn lineage.

Anakin stepped closer to the bed. He saw her lek twitch a mere second before she whipped around, fangs bared and shoving herself in front of Obi-Wan so Anakin couldn’t see his face.

There was no recognition in her predator’s eyes.

“Ahsoka, it’s Anakin.” Anakin kept his voice slow and calm. “You’re at the Temple now, you and Obi-Wan are safe. Can I come sit by you?”

“I—n-no. No! Stay away from him. He’s not okay, he’s hurt, he’s sick,” Ahsoka said, eyes still flashing, boring into Anakin’s, fever bright.

The bandages on her lek and atop her right montral were stained with old and fresh blood.

“Alright, that’s ok. I’ll sit right here, ok? I won’t come any closer.”

Anakin held up his hands and slowly sank into a meditation pose on the floor. He made a clear show of closing his eyes and entering a light meditation. He waited, nearly holding his breath, for Ahsoka to sit back down. Her anxiety still rolled in waves, vast and deep, over Anakin and through the ICU. Her signature rattled with the jitters one only got from staying awake for far too long; she was pressing against his shields, which he let down slowly, trying to gauge the threat he posed to Obi-Wan. He let her probe, giving her as much time as she needed. She was scared and she was hurt. He’d been in her place too many times to count. He knew what kind of reassurance she needed, and it wouldn’t come from being overbearing.

But that didn’t mean every second of the wait wasn’t excruciating.

About as quickly as she’d jumped at him, her eyes finally saw him, and she slipped from her seat.

Anakin was just as quick.

He scooped her up before her head could smack against the ground, cradling it delicately to his chest, shushing her as she whimpered in his arms.

“Ahsoka, it’s alright now. I’m going to take you to our quarters, how does that sound?”

She could only nod.

Anakin stole a glance at his former master, still out cold, bacta-smeared back rising and falling. It gave him the reassurance he needed, and he turned his back before he could change his mind. He stepped quickly over to the curtain he’d last seen Master Che behind. She was still there, reading quietly to the Jedi laid out on the bed unconscious.

“Master Che, I’ve got her. I’m taking her to our quarters, she’ll rest better there. She’ll only get upset if she stays here. What do I need to do about her injuries?”

---

Anakin laid Ahsoka down on her bed, gently lowering her head and pulling her lek out of the way. He rested his mech hand on her face, hoping the cold metal would do its job.

Her face scrunched, nose wrinkling in a way that made him smile sadly.

“Mmmmph, Master?”

“I’m here, Ahsoka. Don’t try to move too much, ok?”

He went about reapplying bacta and changing her bandages, talking idly of his own mission until he was done. She was nodding off the whole time, but her eyes never stayed shut for more than a few seconds, always jerking back open and jostling her lek against the pillows, making her and Anakin both wince.

“Have you not slept this entire time, Ahsoka?” Anakin pulled the thick blanket up around her shoulders, resting his flesh hand near hers as he settled in the chair he’d pulled in when they’d first arrived.

“Master Obi-Wan needed me, I couldn’t leave him there. He hates the Halls,” Ahsoka said, voice rasping.

Anakin made a small chastising noise in the back of his throat that sent a pang through his stomach. He’d definitely picked that one up from Obi-Wan.

“He already chose to sacrifice for you, there was no use in you forsaking yourself in the face of his sacrifice, now was there, my padawan?”

His gentle tone still pricked her raw emotions and the guilt came rolling back through their bond.

“He, he almost died, Master. He almost died to save me.”

Her words came out a whisper.

“Well, he loves you very much, Ahsoka, as do I. Neither of us want you to do this to yourself.”

“Oh, but he can nearly get himself killed?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka had the sense to looked ashamed. Anakin bent down and kissed her forehead, skin still fever hot.

“Ahsoka, Obi-Wan made his decision. Now you need to let that go, to heal yourself and let me help you, so that when we go see him he can see you’re alright.”

Ahsoka grumbled but nodded her head. Her eyes were drooping.

“That doesn’t go to say that he’s off the hook, though. I’m gonna give him hell as soon as he’s better enough to sit up.”

Ahsoka giggled and Anakin knew he’d won.

“Rest now, Ahsoka. I’ll stay here until you wake, alright?”

“You’ll wake me if anything happens?”

“I promise.”

“Ok,” Ahsoka said, shifting and grabbing Anakin’s hand. He gripped it back just as tightly.

“Goodnight, Ahsoka.”

#my fic #Willow talks #hurt Ahsoka #hurt/comfort #Anakin Skywalker #hurt obi-wan (mentioned)#anon prompt response #the writer's block has lifted!#maybe the hair dye i used last night was the key #breaking news: red hair is the secret to curing you of all your writerly blues

16 notes · View notes

mearcatsreturns · 3 years ago

Note

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“[email protected]”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“[email protected]”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

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

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

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

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

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

All my love,

Abby

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

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

&&&

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

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

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

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

&&&

August 2003

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

&&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Abby?”

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

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

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

&&&

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

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

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

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

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

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#er #nbc er #er ff #luby #luby ff #abby lockhart #luka kovac #<3 #my fanfic

28 notes · View notes

mermaidsneedwater · 4 years ago

Text

you see him after the break up

This was requested as a part two to this post. They can be read seperately! I hope it came out okay :)

⇒ jaebeom

Oh no no no. This could not be happening to him. Jaebeom panicked when he saw you and some guy walking towards him by the river walkway.

Should I turn around and run? Or maybe I should crouch down and hide? Whatever Jaebeom was going to, he needed to decide quickly because here you came.

Walking hand in hand with a guy he didn’t recognize, Jaebeom awkwardly smiled when you finally came face to face with each other.

“Hi Y/N.” He said.

You still looked beautiful. Damn this was going to be hard. He wondered if you were happy with the other guy. He pondered the possibility of you missing him as much as he missed you.

“Hey.” You replied awkwardly. “Honey, you know the guy I mentioned before? This is him, Jaebeom.”

The stranger looked him up and down, seemingly sizing Jaebeom up before reluctantly shaking his hand. “Hey. I’m Chris.”

“So how have you been?” Jaebeom asked turning to you, “I haven’t seen you in... what a year?”

“Yeah I think so.” You nodded. “I’m good, how about you?”

“Same old, I just got back from an overseas tour.” He replied. He cringed internally, way to bring up a touchy subject Jaebeom.

“Oh that’s great. I’m glad things are going well for you.” You politely smiled.

Jaebeom noticed that Chris was holding your hand a little more tightly as he spoke. “Baby, we should get going, we have that thing.”

Jaebeom winced at Chris’ nickname for you, that was his name for you. You were his baby. Were.

“I should get going too. It was nice seeing you Y/N” Jaebeom said, trying to relieve the awkwardness of the situation. Turning to Chris, he joked “She’s a great girl Chris, don’t screw it up like me.”

“Trust me I won’t.” Chris said with condescending smile. “I’m never letting her go.”

“Good. I wish I had done the same.” He muttered in response.

Jaebeom waved goodbye to you both as you walked in opposite directions. He turned around to see Chris’ arm around your waist, whispering something in your ear. You laughed and smacked his chest lightly.

Even after a year, Jaebeom could feel his heart break in two all over again, with no one to blame but himself.

⇒ mark

“Y/N? Y/N L/N?” The voice on the phone spoke.

“Yes?” You answered.

“I’m calling because you were listed as an emergency contact for Mark Tuan. He’s been in a car accident.”

Your heart sunk in your chest. “I see. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Walking into the hospital, you stopped at the reception desk. A young lady greeted you with a small smile. “Hello miss, how can I help you?”

Frazzled, you ran a hand through your hair. “I’m listed as an emergency contact for a patient here, Mark Tuan?”

“Okay let me check for you.” She looked to her computer screen, pulling up his file virtually. “Yes, he is in room 241.”

“Is he okay?” You asked, praying that nothing bad had happened to him.

“You’ll have to discuss that with the doctor miss.”

Thanking her, you walked to room 241. With each step you took, you could feel the air leave your lungs. Though you’d only left him last week, you’d never be able to live with yourself if something had happened to him. Your hands trembled as you reached for the door, before you could touch the handle, you were stopped by a woman.

“Who are you?” She asked, holding a clipboard at her side.

“I’m Y/N, I was listed as an emergency contact for Mark Tuan, I heard he was in an accident.” You explained nervously. “Is he ok? What happened?”

“So you’re Y/N. The patient was asking for you when he arrived in the emergency room.” The Doctor brought her clipboard up to tell you the situation. “He is okay. Mr. Tuan was in a minor car accident. Though his blood alcohol level was .087%, which means he was drinking and driving. Injury-wise he’s going to be alright, we did a CT scan and found that he broke a couple of ribs.”

Exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you responded. “Oh okay, thank god. Thank you so much doctor.”

“He should recover in one to two months, I’ll prescribe some medication for the pain.” She continued. “You can see him.”

Nodding, you took a breath and entered the room. Mark laid in a hospital gown on the bed, looking out the window. He was hooked up to multiple wires, the room silent except the dripping of his IV bag. As you took in the sight of him, your blood began to boil.

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You shut the door behind you. “Are you insane? Were you trying to get yourself killed?!”

Mark turned to see you at the foot of the door. Overcome with relief, he could only whisper “Y/N.”

“Drinking and driving? How stupid do you have to be!” You continued yelling.

“Y/N.” Mark spoke again.

“What!?”

“You look good.” He said, taking in your appearance. “How have you been?”

Your face softened at his words. His antics had accomplished his purpose, bringing you face to face with him since your break up. This was exactly the kind of thing you had hoped to avoid, as you’d left him a note explaining that your relationship was over.

“You can’t do this Mark.” You told him.

“Do what?” He replied innocently.

“Things that are endangering your life. You need to stop being so reckless. It won’t bring me back to you.”

He grabbed your hand, begging “I realize I was wrong. It took me a little bit, but I know. I don’t want to be with anyone but you. Please reconsider.”

“Change your emergency contact.” You told him, taking your hand out of his. “And please take care of yourself. I’ll call your friends to come take care of you when you’re discharged.”

⇒ jackson

I want to see you. it’s been two months and I can’t get you out of my head. let’s meet for lunch.

Jackson had sent you this message this morning. Unsure of what to say, you decided it was simply best to say nothing. But when you checked your phone that evening you were greeted with one more.

meet me for one coffee. i won’t bother you again.

Unable to decline his invitation, you texted him back. tomorrow at 1.

thank you

That was how you found yourself face to face with Jackson once again.

“What can I get for you two today?” The waiter asked.

“I’ll have an iced coffee and she’ll have a latte with an extra shot of espresso please.” Jackson ordered for the two of you.

You had both forgotten the comfort and familiarity of your relationship. Sitting at the table felt like old times, almost.

“I’m sorry for ordering for you, force of habit.” Jackson apologized.

“It’s fine, at least you got the right order” You joked.

Half smiling, Jackson fiddled with his rings. “So you’re probably wondering why I asked to meet... And honestly I’m grateful you came. I know after what I did, I wouldn’t have if I were you.”

Silently nodding, you were curious as to what he would say.

“I just– I miss you. It’s as simple as that. I daydream and I think about you, I can’t eat without thinking if you are too, when I wake up in the morning I still reach out for you in our bed.” Jackson rambled. “What I’m trying to get at is, I think we should–“

“Wait.” You stopped him. “I have to tell you something.”

“Oh– okay. What is it?” Jackson asked.

“I’m moving.”

“Like across town?”

“No. To New York.” You told him. “I leave in three days.”

Jackson sat back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, I can do long distance. We can make it work.”

“No Jackson. I don’t want to. And I don’t think getting back together is a good idea.” You told him. “I’m moving because I need a fresh start. There’s nothing left for me here”

“But what about us?” He asked.

The waiter came back with your coffees, setting them down in front of you.

“Jackson, I can forgive what you did, but I can’t forget. Every time I look at you all I can think is back to that moment.” You admitted. “I’m not saying I don’t love you. I’m saying I need space from you.”

You watched as his fell. The goal of this meeting for him had not been accomplished. You signaled the waiter for the check. Leaving cash for both your coffees, you stood up. “Goodbye Jackson.”

⇒ jinyoung

You turned the key to your apartment. Former apartment. It had been a week since you’d last spoken to Jinyoung.

Slowly walking in, you grabbed the boxes you’d brought and pulled them inside. You turned on the light and were startled by the figure hunched over the couch.

“You scared me.” You exhaled a breath of relief.

“Sorry.” Jinyoung grumbled. He sat up on the couch and looked to you at the door. “I guess you were serious.”

You watched as he stood up from the couch. He looked disheveled. You could see the dark circles on his face, his hair messed up and his scruff had been unshaven for what seemed like days.

You walked past him and went straight to your bedroom, intent on getting your things out as quickly as possible.

As you headed to your closet, you set the box you were holding down and began to take your clothes off the hanger.

Jinyoung quietly came into the bedroom and watched as you packed.

“So this is it?” He said. “We’re really over?”

Ignoring his voice, you continued with your packing.

“Just do something. Yell at me. Throw something. Scream. Cry. Anything. I can’t take this silence.”

Not looking back at him, you placed a pile of your folded clothes into the box. “I don’t want to do that. I want my stuff and then I’m leaving.”

Jinyoung got up from the bed and held your hand, turning you to face him. “Don’t do this. Don’t end something good.”

“What do you want from me? You think I want this? I never asked you to cheat on me. You did that all by yourself.”

Shaking his head, he pulled your hand to his cheek, “Tell me what I can do to fix this. I made one mistake, I can do better.”

You took your hand out of his and turned back to the closet. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. You want to fix things? Let me go.”

Jinyoung watched you, dejected and drained. He slowly watched as the apartment transformed from your home to just his apartment.

Taping the last of your boxes, you began taking them to your car, one by one. Jinyoung watched from the window as you shut the trunk of your car and drove away.

Now he was left with nothing but an empty house and the consequences of his actions.

⇒ youngjae

You sat in bed, scrolling through the articles about Youngjae and Mina’s relationship. It had only been 3 weeks since you’d broken up.

They’re so cute!

This is my dream couple xoxo

Youngjae looks so happy with Mina

Frustrated, you threw your phone against the wall. Leaning over to your bedside table, you grabbed the can of ice cream and dug your spoon into it. You contemplated for a brief moment whether you should get out of bed to get a real bowl, but at the moment you couldn’t be bothered with such things.

You’re roommate walked in to find you holed up in your room. “Y/N when was the last time you left this room?”

“I don’t know maybe a couple days ago?” You shrugged, having another bite of the ice cream.

“Okay just give me the ice cream and we can talk.” Your roommate said slowly.

You frowned as she successfully pried the pint out of your hands. “Leave me alone. I just want my ice cream, I think I deserve that much.”

“Okay, that’s it,” your roommate said setting the tub down. “You’re going to shower and get dressed, tonight we’re drinking.”

“Oh no. I have plans with another pint of ice cream and the new Scream movie.”

“Y/N, you’re going out and that’s final!” She insisted.

A few hours later, you stood at the bar of some club your roommate had taken to you. Sipping on a gin and tonic, you scanned the room sullenly.

“Can you at least try to smile?” You roommate nudged you. “You have to put yourself out there. Have you ever heard the saying, in order to get over someone you have to get under someone else?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just really not in the mood.” You said, taking another sip of your drink.

“Fine, do what you want but I see a guy checking me out so I’m going to go talk to him.” She huffed.

Raising your glass, you signaled the bartender for another drink. “Okay, have fun. I’ll be here. Sad and alone.”

Tracing the rim of your glass, you sat alone. Before long, you heard a voice speak.

“One soju please.”

Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. Turning the other way, you attempted to hide your face.

“Y/N?” Youngjae asked. “Is that you?”

Oh shit.

Turning around you saw your ex-boyfriend, he stood tall in a sleek blazer and some jeans.

“Hey you,” you said awkwardly. “What brings you here.”

“Oh, um. It’s Mina’s birthday.” He said. “She wanted to go out with some friends.”

“That’s great.” You said bitterly, downing the rest of your drink. “I’m glad you guys are happy.”

You left some money for the drink and began to leave the bar.

Texting you friend, you headed out the entrance of the club. don’t feel well, going home.

You pulled out your phone to order a car.

“Y/N! Wait!” You heard a voice call behind you.

Youngjae ran, coming to stand in front of you. You looked down at your phone ignoring him.

“Let me take you home.” He said. “Please,”

“I’m not really your concern anymore.” You said defiantly. “I think I can get a cab on my own.”

“Please Y/N.” He said, holding your wrist. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“Like you know anything about what’s right.” You rolled your eyes. “Just go back to your new girlfriend. You guys make a great couple.”

“Y/N,” he started again.

Your cab pulled up in front of the club. “Just do me favor? The next time you see me in public let’s just avoid the pleasantries and do our own thing.”

And with that you shut the door of your cab and watched through the window as you drove away.

Youngjae could only watch and let you go, what right did he have to do anything else anyway?

⇒ bambam

“And she just laughed when you told her?”

“Yup.” Bambam nodded.

Yugyeom sat in disbelief. “Wow. Maybe you guys are better off broken up.”

“What? No.” Bambam refused. “I just need to go apologize to her and we can work through this.”

“Why are you trying so hard to put this relationship back together? Clearly you didn’t want to be in one since you were cheating on her. Most guys would be out celebrating right now!” Yugyeom replied.

“I don’t know, I just feel like I’m missing a piece of myself without her.” Bambam hadn’t admitted that out loud before. “I need to make things right.”

“Yeah but does she want to make things right?” Yugyeom asked. He paused for a few moments to let his best friend ponder the question. “Anyway, I should get going. I’m sorry about your eye again.”

“I deserved it.” Bambam muttered. They were of course referring to the fact that Yugyeom had punched Bambam two weeks ago when he refused to tell you that he was cheating on you.

That night Bambam found himself awake and restless. When he closed his eyes, his mind would run wild with thoughts about you, making it impossible to actually sleep. He got out of bed and put on a sweater, intending to take a stroll at night.

Walking along the street at night, he watched as a couple passed him by. Were they in love? Were they doomed to fate like you and him? As he crossed the street he didn’t even see the car turning the corner until it came to a screeching stop.

“Hey!” He called out looking to the driver.

He was shocked to see that it was none other than you. Walking to the side of the car, he knocked on the window.

“Care to tell me why you almost ran me over?”

“The light’s about turn green. Get in the car.” You told him.

Weighing his options for a brief moment, Bambam sat in the car. “Where are we going?”

You turned to him, laughing a little, “Nowhere? Everywhere?”

Bambam shook his head, “I feel like I don’t understand you anymore.”

“I couldn’t sleep. Can’t really walk around alone at night, so I thought a drive might help.” You explained.

“Me too. Until you almost ran me over.” He tried to joke.

“I’m sorry. But in my defense you came out of nowhere.” You told him, merging onto the road overlooking the river.

You pulled the car onto the side and sat with water moving in front of you. Slowly coming to a stop, you drummed your hands on the steering wheel.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Bambam asked.

“You first.” You said, looking straight ahead.

“I was thinking about you. I miss you. I miss what we had.” He admitted. “Now you.”

You leaned back in your seat, taking in his words. “I was thinking about us too. And if I’m being honest, I was scared. And that’s because I felt so free when we broke up, like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I couldn’t sleep without feeling like our entire relationship had been a waste of time.”

Bambam was taken aback. Our entire relationship had been a waste of time.

“Y/N–“

“Look, if you’re here to try and get back together, then you should just leave. Don’t make things more complicated than they already are.”

He slunk in his seat, he could now see the writing on the wall, you were done and better off without him.

“And if I’m not?”

You turned to look at him, sadly smiling. “We drive around for a bit, I drop you home, and then we go on with our lives. We never hear from each other again.”

⇒ yugyeom

Yugyeom knew this was a idiotic idea. His friends had told him it was an extremely dumb thought. But still he couldn’t help but do it.

He sat at the café by the JYP building that you’d often visit him at. Yugyeom figured that if the café was the place your relationship had gone wrong, it had to be the place to make things right.

Since your break up, it had been like you’d vanished off the face of the earth. You’d effectively blocked him out of your life, changing your phone number, secretly moving into a new apartment, he couldn’t even look up your profile on Instagram to cyber stalk you. Yugyeom only realized when you were gone how much he loved you. One moment you were together, and the next every trace of you had disappeared.

So for the last 3 months, he’d been hoping to ‘accidentally’ run into you at the café. Yugyeom figured that when the moment finally came, he’d apologize and convince you to take him back.

At first he’s told himself that he’d wait for you a week, then two weeks, a month, and now three months. He knew nothing about your life without him, so he could only guess your routine.

Yugyeom was sure that for the ninety-second day in a row, you wouldn’t show. That was until he unmistakably heard the sound of your laugh.

Following the sound, He looked to find you on the phone entering the café. Overwhelmed with the sight, he quickly stood up to take a peek at you.

Surely enough, you were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your hair had grown a bit, and you’d walked into the café radiating a kind of confidence he’d never seen before.

Nervously running a hand through his hair, it was time to act on the plan he’d been concocting for the last 3 months.

He waited at the table, until you’d finished ordering your drink. When he saw you step up to the counter, Yugyeom brushed against you.

“I’m so sor–“ you started before realizing who you’d bumped into.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Yugyeom asked, pretending to be shocked.

“Oh, I was just on my way to meet someone and thought I’d stop for a coffee. How about you?”

“Lunch break. Just picking up a quick bite before I go back to practice.”

“Right! What are you doing nowadays?” You asked, suddenly remembering.

Has she really forgotten that I’m in an idol group? Yugyeom wondered. She used to know my schedule better than me!

“We have a comeback soon. But anyways...” grasping for a topic Yugyeom panicked, “the weather has been so nice lately right?”

When you chuckled at his question, Yugyeom was confused.

“This is so awkward.” You said blatantly. “Of course this was bound to happen to us.”

Relieved that you’d broken the ice, Yugyeom laughed with you. “I guess so.”

“It’s okay Yugyeom. It doesn’t have to be like this.” You reassured him. “I’m not angry with you anymore.”

“Y/N, I just have to let you know how sorry I am.” He admitted. Placing a hand on your shoulder, he continued “I never meant to hurt you. I was so stupid, I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it.”

“I forgave you awhile ago. We just weren’t meant to be, it happens.” You shrugged. “You deserve to be happy. And so do I.”

Taking your coffee from the counter, you took out your wallet to tip the barista. “Be well Yugyeom.” Waving to him, you left the café.

Yugyeom watched as you walked out the door. He couldn’t help but feel an ache in his chest, realizing that he’d now lost you for the second and final time.

return to masterlist

170 notes · View notes

dclsbaby · 4 years ago

Text

mykonos-crossed lovers (part i) 🦋

🎶 playlist for part i

prologue

part ii

part iii

part iv

Summary: When you drunkenly book a girls trip to a tropical Greek island to help mend your broken heart, you would never for a second think it will take you exactly to where he is. Him. A tale of the right person at the wrong time, an overused cliché made into plots of movies you never thought would live through in your reality. Two people, still madly in love with each other, hearts still broken, suppressed by the alcohol and distractions consumed on this trip. Will they let their egos get in the way, protect what’s left of their already broken hearts, or will let their hearts speak?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: angst?

Author’s Note: hi everyone, thank you so so much for the responses to the prologue! I am so overwhelmed and did not expect to receive so much kindness it makes me wanna cry hahaha 🥺 thank you a thousand times over! and if this is your first time getting to know the fic, I highly suggest you read the prologue before diving into part 1! This chapter is sort of a filler chapter (I know it has 2.6k words lol), it shows how (y/n) have been doing since the break up & how the trip came about, I hope it’ll make sense once you read it 🤍 thanks for reading x

Gif:

It’s been months since you last spoke to him. Him. The thought of him still hurts. The idea of him existing without you, hurts. As much as you try to fight it, you still remember him like the back of your hand. You could draw on paper the contours of his face by memory, by instinct, like remembering your way home. He was a love you have never experienced before. Something about his magnetism seemed impossible to resist.

You and Dominic broke up nearly half a year ago. Your hopes of an amicable breakup were destroyed by him. His confusion, his anger, his frustration made it impossible for you two to stay friends. He couldn’t even begin to imagine being just a friend to you when his entire heart belongs to you. He called you selfish for leaving, he called you stubborn for having your mind made up without letting him put up a fight when he was ready to battle anyone, even you, to save your relationship.

The first few months were difficult, but the first few weeks were excruciating. You barely ate, as the numbing in the pit of your stomach constantly made you nauseous that your body couldn’t digest anything you ate. You couldn’t bring yourself to shower and get dressed, and spent days laying in bed, wallowing in sadness. Overtime, you just learn to live with the pain.

Since then, you’ve had good days, and slowly but surely stopped faking smiles and replaced them with genuine ones. But your bad days felt like hell, with your mind often teasing you with memories of him that you’ve suppressed enough to compartmentalise, then it comes back to you all at once, and consumes your entire soul. The pain is suffocating, like being crush by tidal waves, leaving you no time to run for shore, the waters dragging you, pulling you in many directions. All you could do was be still, stay paralysed, and pray that it goes away. That’s what remembering him felt like.

Then on other days, you often wonder how you were able to manage all this, with the pain still fresh whenever you think about it, but I guess we’re all guilty of pushing our feelings to the side and pretending that everything’s alright, when it’s the opposite. You’re still alive, despite it all. But you want to live, not just survive.

The truth is, you did not leave because you fell out of love. In fact, you were too in love—it’s a crime. He was your entire life. Days were spent waiting for him to come home from training and matches. Missing him during away games. Your entire happiness depended on him, and that terrified you. You weren’t happy with yourself either, and expected more out of your life. The burden of having a prosperous career, a stable income, a life for yourself that you loved, becoming too heavy to bear. You had all these dreams and goals set for yourself that you never got to actualise so you could be by his side. Your love for him was insurmountable, that you couldn’t accommodate anything for yourself. No matter how hard you tried, you will always put him first. It was natural. Even though he never asked for all your attention, you couldn't simply choose between yourself or him, because you would always choose him. Over and over.

So you did what you had to do, break your own heart, and his, to love yourself.

Since your breakup, you finally moved out of your friend’s place and got yourself a nice two-bedroom flat at the city centre with a stunning view of the city. You landed yourself a job as a junior editor for British Vogue that demands commuting to London several days a week. As you thrive in difficult situations, the breakup forced you to submerge yourself in work, mainly to avoid the pain, but it propelled you to get to where you are.

Trying to get over someone who is in the public eye was a different battle. It seemed as though everywhere you went, he’s there. You see him on billboards, TV screens, his face painted on murals, quickly becoming a tourist site. Occasionally, you would watch his games out of habit, and listen to the prideful Evertonian crowd chant his name. You witnessed his first England senior team debut, and tuned in to England v. Wales on the TV for old time’s sake. You watched him score his first senior England goal behind a screen. Your eyes welled at sight of him living his dream, poaching the ball into the net, scoring the first goal of the game, making his country and family proud. You feel the rush of adrenaline he felt as he ran to his teammates and celebrated. You can’t help but share this sense of pride, as you’ve watched firsthand how hard he has worked to get to where he is.

But on days where he isn’t on your mind, you do not want to be reminded of him. It’s difficult to cope when you encounter pieces of him that takes you back to the worst day of your life, and his.

Like last night, for instance. You had been scrolling on your social media when it was brought to your attention that a magazine had published an issue with your ex on the front cover, spotted on a night out with a blonde you don’t personally know but you could’ve sworn you’ve seen before. Perhaps another one of those so-called “influencers”, you thought to yourself. You know that you have no right to feel jealous or upset, as you broke up with him and this was bound to happen, but selfishly, a part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t find anyone else, or at least not before you did. You’re frustrated at yourself for letting him have this effect on you even months after your break up.

Succumbing to your bad habits, you give in to your impulses and pop open a bottle of red wine to calm your growing anxiety. Two glasses of wine, a takeout, and a season of Gossip Girl later, you find yourself slightly drunk, nerves calmed, and a little drowsy so you quickly change into your satin pyjamas and tuck yourself in bed.

You decide to turn on the TV for some background noise and quickly close your eyes. By some twist of fate, you hear a painfully familiar voice giving his thoughts at the end of a game he’s won. The sheer volume of his voice on the TV causes a sharp pain in your chest as you scramble to reach for your remote in the dark, with your eyes half opened. and change it to anything but a sports channel. That’s it, you thought to yourself. I need to get the fuck away.

Still drunk and not entirely aware of what you’re doing, you reach for your laptop on the nightstand. The brightness made your eyes squint a little bit, but you managed to type out a link and open a travel booking site, and scroll through different pictures of tropical islands you’re longing to get to. Anywhere but here, you thought. You selected options that you thought looked the blue-est, the most expensive, a party town, and had the most five star restaurants.

By the end of it you have booked a return flight to Mykonos for 5 people where you will be staying at a grand, luxurious 5-bedroom villa located at the party central of the island. You couldn’t be bothered to check how much it cost you. All sense of ration gets thrown out the window when you mix heartbreak with alcohol. When you told your friends of what you had just done, it was safe to say that they were surprised but absolutely ecstatic that you have booked a much needed getaway with the girls. With a three-day notice, you all quickly scramble through your closet and go on an online shopping spree to pick out your outfits for the holiday.

***

Days later, you find yourself landing on Mykonos island on a sunny afternoon.

“I can’t believe you’ve managed to pull all this off within days,” your friend says as you all walk through the pebbled entry way of your villa, and open the door. “Holy fucking shit,” another friend says in awe of the sight. The villa was filled with white interior, bright lights, wooden tables that give off beach vibes, and an infinity pool where you could swim as you watch the sunset, with a view of the blue sea. With 5 bedrooms to choose from, your friends collectively decided that you should take the master that had direct access to the pool, which you happily accepted but it wouldn’t matter anyway, as you’ll all probably stay in one room.

Once you’ve unpacked, you pull out your white cardigan and make your way out the terrace to catch a view of the sunset and have a moment by yourself. You take a deep breath of the fresh air with a hint of sea breeze as you try to take in the stunning view of the island. You are filled with gratitude as you bear witness to something so beautiful as you watch the sun sink into the blue Aegean Sea. Despite the peacefulness exuded by the view, your heart can’t help but feel Dom. You remember when he had brought up wanting to spend this exact summer in Mykonos with you, but life had other plans.

***flashback***

Dom was laying in bed with his laptop screen on his chest, an arm to support his head as he scrolled through the travel booking site. He had been looking through different options, but he has his mind set on a lovely town in Greece, Dubai’s overrated after all, he thought.

“Me, you, blue skies, tanned skin, bike rides around town, what do you think love?” asked Dom. “Where’s this?” you ask, moving closer to him as he shows you his laptop screen. “Mykonos. It’s not too far away, I’ll have enough time to rest before pre-season starts,” he replies. “That sounds like a plan,” you smile at him. “But we’ll book it closer to the summer, yeah? In case anything comes up,” you said as you plant a kiss on his cheek. He nods as he bookmarks the site and drifts off to sleep with you shortly after.

Unbeknownst to you, later that night he quietly opened his laptop and quickly booked the trip for you two as a surprise. Anything that will come in the way will just have to be compromised. He was adamant to make sure he gives you the best summer of your life, it is what you deserve after all, he thought.

***

You had forgotten about your conversation with Dom until you stood on the island. Your thoughts were interrupted by your friend’s footsteps. “Hey, you okay babe? You’ve been out here for a while,” she asks with concerned eyes. “I’m alright,” you said. “Or I will be,” you add, giving your friend a forced smile. Your friend wraps her arm around your shoulders as you two make it back inside to have an early and quiet night with the girls, exhausted from all the travel.

***

The next day you woke up a little late, with only several hours to tan before having to get ready for your dinner reservation at one of Mykonos’s famous restaurants that looks over the sea. A little frustrated at yourself for sleeping in, you went to the bathroom to wash your face, put on some light makeup, and change into your swimwear.

You join your friends who are sprawled on the sunbeds. “So, where is this place again?” you asked your friend who booked the dinner. “A restaurant by the sea located at party central babe. Everybody, I mean everybody goes here. They’ve got the best food and music,” she replies. “Think of Mamma Mia 1,” another friend chimes in. Your eyes widen at the imagery. “Better have some great alcohol too, I’m desperate for some,” you laugh. “That’s my girl,” your friend says.

***

By the late afternoon you and the girls are getting ready for dinner. Makeup bags and its contents sprawled on the floor, you had to tiptoe around makeup products and brushes, careful not to step on them. After long deliberation, you decided to dress up in co-ord that hugs your figure and fits you like a glove, paired with your favourite heels, settling for an elegant yet fun look. You decide to keep your hair down and put on some natural makeup to balance out the bold colour. After about 30 minutes of taking pictures of each other and some group photos, you finally made it out the door.

The location was spectacular. The ambience was complemented with bright lights to lighten the dim Mykonos sky that has turned a shade of dark blue, almost purple. The food was divine, a little overpriced for your liking, but it was worth it. The restaurant turns into a nightclub close to midnight, and you and your girls were eager to start your first round of drinks. Fruity drinks were passed around, made with fruits freshly picked from the gardens. Watermelon margarita was your drink of choice, partly sweet, partly sour, and just enough tequila as your first drink of the trip.

The restaurant was packed, you could’ve sworn you had seen a star of a Spanish series you’ve just finished watching on Netflix. The guests were well dressed, many had bravely eccentric taste, mixing patterns and sparkly jewellery, paired with funky footwear to add some flair. In Mykonos, you will not encounter the same judgment as you would walking down the streets back home.

Your friends stood up to dance the second the alcohol kicked in. You took your time, savouring your drink, wanting the night to last. You smile at the sight of your happy friends, so full of life, not giving a single care in the world. As you’re sitting there, observing people, you suddenly feel your chest get heavy. It’s hard to put into words what this feeling is like, but it pushes you to shut down in social settings, overwhelmed by strangers and loud music that makes your ears ring. It is a feeling of unexplained anxiety, where you need a second to correct your breathing, and calm yourself down. Not now, you thought, not here. You often feel these random bouts of emptiness since you left Dom. You try to push the discomfort away, and think of anything else but him. You stood up and walked to the edge of the restaurant by the white border wall to get some fresh air, and take in the view of calm waves under the night sky to collect some peace of mind.

You place your elbows on top of the border, and rest your head on the palms of your hands. A bystander would think that you’re a scene from a movie, a damsel in distress, longing for her love interest. But this was no movie, no fairytale, no knight in shining armour to protect you, no lover to sweep you off your feet.

Or so you thought.

Your focus on the sounds of splashing waves was interrupted by familiar footsteps, getting louder and louder as it creeps its way closer to you. The scent of the sea began to mix with an all too familiar scent of tobacco vanilla. Only one person came to mind. It can’t be, you thought.

“(Y/N)?,” his voice breaks.

It’s him.

#dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #mclfic

99 notes · View notes

badatjokezz · 4 years ago

Text

Haikyuu!! Rare Pair Fic Recs

i’ve been so hype about some Hq rarepairs lately now imma list some of my fav fanfics, mostly OiSuga mwehehe....

(probably gonna add some more in the future)

Oisuga (Oikawa x Sugawara)

1. Stuck in the Middle With You by overlymetaromantic

It's not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

1. In which Suga and Oikawa run into each other on a late night convenience store run.

2. In which Suga and Oikawa inadvertently switch bags and end up with the other’s uniform.

3. In which Suga gives Oikawa the lecture he doesn't want but probably needs, and Oikawa might accidentally be a little in love.

4. In which Oikawa won't shut up about Suga, and Iwaizumi plays matchmaker just to make him stop.

5. In which there is not a date, and Suga likes spicy things much more than sweet.

6. In which Karasuno and Aobajousai hold training camps in the same neck of the woods, and the trip back proves to be more revealing than it probably should.

7. In which there might just be a future to this after all.

(Dis is so fluffy i might die)

2. moving on (growing up) by _helios (neocitz)

‘I’ll do it,’ Suga says, walking into their prep school and dropping his bag on the floor next to Oikawa. He shoves the melon bun and drink forward into Oikawa’s hands, and stands there looking down at him because he knows that he needs to not chicken out.

‘You’ll do what?’ Oikawa looks up through his glasses, eyes wide and confused as the other students stream in around them.

‘The fake dating thing, I’ll do it.’

‘Fuck. Yes.’ Oikawa says with a fist pump.

(It’s been AGES since i read Fake/Pretend Relationship fic, this one is goood)

3. how strange, to be remembered by venusintwelfthFandoms

"He is not formed of the type of dust that makes up stars. Suga is not the type of person that stays in the mind of one like Oikawa Tooru, ten years later. He is formed of the type of dust you shake off, the type that settles into the ground."

Ten years after Suga last steps off a high-school court, Oikawa recollects a "Mr. Refreshing" in a post-game interview, and Suga is left scrambling.

(Cute one-shot, Oikawa still remember Mr. Refreshing from Karasuno)

4. all the small things by Authoress for lemedy

Sugawara Koushi.

Oikawa’s brain supplies the name of the person standing at the other end of the aisle before Oikawa can even register him, attuned to spitting out facts about other volleyball players on a second’s notice, even after all these years. Karasuno High vice-captain. 174 cm…no, more like 176 now. Skilled at raising morale and bringing an element of surprise to their strategy. Troublesome. Refreshing. Setter.

The enemy.

(Single Dad! Oikawa, cuuutee ugh)

5. Win Some by kingdra (aroceu) for Icie

Tooru does not have a problem, its name is certainly not Sugawara Koushi, and he is not going to the Karasuno practices just to watch him. Regardless of whatever Iwa-chan says.

(High school romane~)

6. Even as bright as you are? by BKAKCANON

That night when he goes to sleep, he includes "the safety of fairies" on his prayers, making a promise to whoever was listening him, that he'd protect all the fairies and keep their secret safe forever.

[Where Oikawa meets Suga when they are kids and Oikawa believes Suga is secretly a fairy and decides he has to protect his secret all costs.]

(This is basically matches my headcanon)

7. getting to know you by oisugasuga

Suga feels like he’s back on the court then, his heart thudding hard in his ears… so hard he almost misses what Oikawa says. Unfortunately, though, he doesn’t.

"My, my. What a surprise," Oikawa Tooru says. And then… "Hello, Mr. Refreshing."

(Haven’t finished yet but DAMN I LOVE OIKAWA AND SUGA IN HERE, single dad! oikawa, and Suga babysitting oikawa’s kid, def slow burn. Imma follow this fic till death)

8. Dear Reader by hyirule

No one seems to read the paper anymore. But Oikawa likes to for the sports section. One day he finds himself reading a section called "Dear Reader" and finds a submission he can relate to.

Basically messages sent through a page on a newspaper brings to unlikely souls together, who maybe have more in common than they first thought.

(Cannon compliant, simple and... refreshing(?))

9. rest by shicchaan

Tooru looks at the sleeping person beside him as he waits for the lights change into green. The growing fringe of his husband started to cover his eyes but he can still see the beautiful birthmark under the silver haired's left eye.

(Established relationship, fluff fluff!!!)

10. long is the road (that leads me home) by ichweissnichtauch

He thinks about himself, deleting contacts from his phone and throwing coffee cups away without even looking at the string of numbers scrawled in Sharpie ink underneath, and he’s tired of hiding, tired of carefully treading the lines he’d drawn for himself all those years ago.

Just this once, Tooru wants— he thinks he wants to be brave.

Oikawa Tooru is not a stranger to wanting.

(like... 20% Oisuga but i like the way this story follows the Cannon till he get to Argentina)

11. It's Always Been About You by mintycarrots

Every time Tooru had envisioned meeting his soulmate, it was a confession of love, filled with tears of happiness and a lot of making out. It would be a faceless petite girl that would support Tooru in whatever he chose to pursue and would understand when Tooru prioritized volleyball over all else.

It was never a boy on the rival team.

(Soulmate AU)

12. a play in three acts by venusintwelfth

"The first time Sugawara Koushi sees Oikawa Tooru play, he thinks that if he wasn’t so set on volleyball, he’d do well in theater."

the first seijoh x karasuno match through the eyes of suga.

(Kinda poetic i guess, well written af)

13. colors by dazeful

Sugawara Koushi's colorful life as an archer.

(this is like the perfect oisuga one shot ive ever read)

___

IwaSuga (Iwaizumi x Sugawara)

1. And so the moon cried by iwriteinpenFandoms:

The hillocks are the domain of unearthly creatures. Creatures of rot and fog, of music and dance. Like ghosts in the night they travel without leaving footprints, they disappear in a flurry of long dresses and pale hair. Those who are fated to see them risk curses far worse than death. You may hear them, a giggle in the wind. You may smell them, the smell of the fog rolling in through the trees. You should pray you never see them. Iwaizumi Hajime is a simple man. He works a simple farm job and enjoys simple things. After one morning where he woke next to a perfect circle of death and only the memory of brown eyes and cold hands, he finds himself inexplicably drawn to the forest. Will the tales of his childhood play out with him at the center or will he have to disregard all reason?

(Danish Folklore AU)

2. Cry Just A Little by DreadfulMind

Suga was whistling a tune to himself as he opened the door to the bathroom, so he didn't hear the muffled crying through the door. But he could hear it clearly once he was inside. He heard the sharp sob of someone trying to stop.

"Iwaizumi?" He asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

(Simple but c u t e)

3. Generations by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor), mozaikmage

Professional sports blogger Sugawara Koushi writes an article about a volleyball match that bears special meaning to him and his former kouhai: a showdown between Kitagawa Daiichi and Yukigaoka Middle School, ten years after the teams faced off for the first time. He doesn't plan on capturing the attention of the world of sports journalism, and he certainly doesn't expect himself to end up having a thing for one of the coaches involved, one Iwaizumi Hajime.

(Time-Skip, I loved it)

___

KuroTsuki (Kuroo x Tsukishima)

1. Invictus by Chiru

Kuroo T. » So let me get this straight (gay?) Kuroo T. » You want me to pretend to be your perfect and fabulous boyfriend, so that your little freckled friend will stop trying to set you up with cute little highschool girls? Tsukishima Kei » yes Kuroo T. » Aha. Tsukishima Kei » you'll do it? Kuroo T. » I don't know. I missed the part where I get something out of it. Tsukishima Kei » you get to annoy me. Unfortunately Kuroo T. » Tempting, Tsukki, very tempting indeed.

(Fake/Pretend Relationship, some fluff, some angst, i read this in the middle of the night and cried, fortunately happy ending)

2. hold onto hope if you got it by nekolyssi

"Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."

(Not finished yet but yep prolly gonna put this one to one of those best haikyuu fics ive ever read. I wasnt so interested at first but i really like the idea of mental ilness etc, this is g o o d!!)

3. [KuroTsuki Fest Week 2017] Traces by Heartythrills

Kuroo’s disappeared for a little over a week now, and suddenly a 4 year old who looks like him appears before Tsukishima’s apartment.

(Age regression, fluff)

4. I swear by xArtemisx

Like the shadow that's by your side I'll be there

"What are you doing here, Tetsu? It's cold." Kei asked softly. Tetsurou smiled. Hearing his name came out of Kei's lips is always music to his ears.

"Nothing. I just came to think that whatever memory we make, may it be happy or sad memories, the bright moon and the starry night sky is always there to be the witness. Did you notice?" The alpha answered and Kei nodded. He also noticed it.

"Yes, I did noticed it."

(I love agony and sad ending....)

5. Honeybee by ClosetGoblin

Tsukishima has trouble sleeping one night during a Third Gym Camping Trip. So, he takes his acoustic guitar and passes the time with some music, and gets a visitor. Maybe he doesn't mind Kuroo's voice as he does the screeching that Lev and Hinata call singing.

(Simple but sweet)

6. Say You Like Me by the_madame21

It's been three months. And Tsukishima Kei is going to see Kuroo Tetsurou.

(light angst and.. s m u t. Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamic)

7. trying to get to you by mytsukkishine

Everything came crashing down on Kuroo when Kei had left him alone with nothing but the moon shining down on him.

Wherein, Kuroo was struggling to move on and decided that he wouldn't mind being with Kei again.

(sad beginning? yes. sad ending? y e s. you’re a masochist? come get your juice)

8. Please Hold by ThemooncatFandoms

Kei was expecting Kuroo to do one of two things; Send a text to the office saying that they will have to call back another time and continue what they started, or excuse himself from Kei to answer the call, which was most likely. He shouldn’t have been surprised when Kuroo does neither of those things.

(short but hot. what’s hotter than quiet sex?)

___

Ushijima x Oikawa

1. This Insignificant Pride and Prejudice by Mysecretfanmoments, Pouler (poulerslashes)

Oikawa Tooru graduated high school with the burning desire to succeed in his college career. He'd hoped that might include taking down his arch-nemesis along the way, but when he finds that his college team hosts an offensively familiar face, he can't help but think that the universe might be conspiring against him. After all, what could be worse than playing on the same team as Ushijima?

(It was funny for me reading oikawa/ushijima fic with that “you should’ve come to Shiratorizawa” joke at first but somehow i found this one... endearing :3, cute poor ushiwaka)

___

Atsumu x Nishinoya

1. All the things I love about Yuu by KilluCoulomb

Atsumu Miya is fixated in Nishinoya. The way the boy acts, talks, plays. He Carefully observes from afar, but he slowly warms up to the Libero. Friendship becomes more and more intimate. Atsumu realizes Nishinoya is not that simple guy he met three years ago. And he loves it.

(pro volleyball players AU)

2. i'll see you then by noyabeans (snowdrops)

Nishinoya Yuu and Miya Atsumu build a rivalry and something more.

“Oh, it's Karasuno’s libero,” he says, mildly surprised to see Nishinoya’s face staring back at him from the brochure, grinning wide with his arms folded over his chest.

Contains spoilers for the current manga arc, up to chapter 380.

#oisuga #kurotsuki #oikawa x sugawara #kuroo x tsukishima #iwasuga #iwaizumi x sugawara #ushijima x oikawa #ushioi #atsunoya #haikyuu!!#fic recs

124 notes · View notes

be-dazzled · 4 years ago

Text

The Art of Falling

CHAPTER IV AT THE END OF THE AISLE

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here | Taglist

Writer’s Corner: Happy Holidays! I wasn't able to keep my promise on a monthly update but I am very much grateful that you still all stayed with me despite what I lacked. Thank you so much. This has been such a hard year but there were many good things that happened too. Especially, 2020 has been the year of ships, the Gruvia ship! & we just keep on winning. Ahaha.

Anyways, After reading this update, please go spend some holiday fun with your loved ones! And if 2020 was extra bit hard on you, then I want to remind you that, it will get better. It always does. This too shall pass. I will pray for you whether you believe in the God I believe in or not, I will pray that you get through the darkest time of your life. I love you, my Gruvia family. Happy Holidays!

Masterlist

There was a polite knock on the door. Having the faintest inkling of who could be standing on the other side of it, Juvia quickly calculated the short trip from the stairs to the backdoor at the kitchen. She looked around the room for her mother and, not finding her anywhere of close proximity, Juvia started for her escape. Alas, as she was rounding the corner to the kitchen, Mrs. Lockser caught her hand and ordered her to attend to the door. She made an initial protest to no avail. The young Miss had no choice but to oblige her mother with palpable gloom.

It was not the gentleman, however, that greeted her by the door; not that she was expecting nor anticipating his visit. It was what appeared to be a messenger carrying a letter addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Lockser.

"Oh, Mr. Fullbuster, Mr. Vastia, I hope you lot like Caramade Franks." Mrs. Lockser's voice traveled and reached her daughter before her feet did. "I have risen early in the morning to– where are Mr. Fullbuster and Mr. Vastia?" inquired she, after arriving at the vestibule to find no fine gentlemen.

"There's a letter addressed to you and father. It is from Mr. Fullbuster."

"Oh dear!" cried Mrs. Lockser, who lost strength on her legs, having to put down the baked bread on a side table as she passed it, and sought support from the sturdy furniture. "It is because of your hostility, is it not?" Resting her hand over her forehead in a dramatic fashion, Mrs. Lockser wept a concern that traveled to every room of the house, "that he is withdrawing his courtship? Oh dear, Mr. Lockser!"

Juvia had only stared at her mother, finding her behavior unwarranted. For the very reason for her mother's woe was still in her possession – the sealed letter. Without ever opening it, Mrs. Lockser had bewailed an unfortunate conclusion. However, if it be true that Mr. Fullbuster found it wiser to withdraw his courtship, it was news well-received by Juvia.

"What is with all this noise so early in the morning?"

Mr. Lockser appeared in the hallway that led to his study, with lines formed on his forehead, unhappy with the sudden interruption in his morning reading. His daughters, the eldest and the youngest hastened down and crowded at the foot of the stairs, worried about the wailings of their mother.

"Oh, my dear Mr. Lockser. I am afraid we find ourselves in an unfortunate circumstance." Mrs. Lockser leaned her hip on the table, resting her hand on her chest in a poor attempt to feign poor nerves. "It seems that Mr. Fullbuster is withdrawing his affection towards our rude daughter."

Mrs. Lockser was greatly mistaken. The second daughter did not find such a circumstance so disheartening. It would only prove what Juvia believed – that the offered floras would last longer than Mr. Fullbuster's misguided affection – and Miss Juvia Lockser had no grievances being proven right. Nevertheless, the fretful daughter ought to put an end to this non-sense before her mother nursed a serious illness.

"Shall we not open the letter and confirm before you cry us a river, Mother?" If it was not so impolite to roll her eyes, that Juvia would have done.

Mrs. Lockser refused to receive the letter; afraid reading it would do her and her heart more harm than any good. She could not bear it when the town became aware, as they would be in a day or so, that the lone heir of Lord Silver Fullbuster had found her daughter unacceptable for marriage. Miss Juvia would not only become a pariah of the little town but her family would sink further down society and their reputation would be of no consequence.

"Oh, what shame it is!" cried Mrs. Lockser, running after her breath, "What disrepute shall befall our family only because I have raised my second daughter poorly."

"Shall we confirm it before you disown our poor Miss Juvia?"

As Mrs. Lockser wallowed in her grief, her husband paid her no more deserving attention. Instead, he did the wisest thing and proceeded to take the letter from his daughter and opened it.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Lockser, I will begin by expressing my sincerest apology for not having fulfilled my duty to be in your presence today," the letter read, "My dearest cousin-in-law, Mr. Vastia, received news of urgent business. He had no other choice but to return to Margaret Town as soon as possible. I was inclined to offer my services to escort him to the train station, as he believed it a faster mode of transportation than by carriage."

"Oh, what good news!" exclaimed Mrs. Lockser, who immediately recovered from her poor nerves. She leaned in to read the rest of the letter and had commented on Mr. Fullbuster's impeccable handwriting. "A true noble's hand, indeed."

The news, however, had the opposite effect on the young Miss Juvia. As her father continued to share the contents of the letter, Juvia hanged on every word, hopefully waiting for the news her mother dreaded.

"In order to make amends for my absence, my mother, in the heed of Mr. Vastia's wife, would like to extend an invitation for an afternoon tea in the Fullbuster Manor, if you will allow us such graciousness."

Mr. Lockser has yet to reach the end of the letter when his wife decided, with irrevocable conviction, that the visit must be paid no later than the morrow. In an instant, her legs miraculously regained their strength, as the mother of three could not even decide where to begin her preparations.

"We are never to make her Ladyship wait!"

She spat orders here and there and abandoned the newly baked goods, the ones she would have claimed as prepared by her own hand, and proclaimed, "Oh, we must head to town!" As she said so, Mrs. Lockser hastily gathered her daughters and nudged them upstairs. "Mr. Lockser, will you be as kind as to lend your family the carriage?"

"But why must we, Mother?" asked Juvia foolishly for she ought to know the design in Mrs. Lockser's insistence.

"Why you ask? To buy supplies!" Mrs. Lockser descended a few steps of the stairs to level with Miss Juvia; delighted for the opportunity to lecture, "because you do not pay attention to social decorum, my dear Miss Juvia, that you fail to recall the most basic of good manners." Mrs. Lockser lightly shook her head in disapproval. "We cannot simply turn up to the Manor empty-handed."

Juvia kept her silence and allowed her mother this little victory. A glance at her sisters, who seemed amused by the exchange, had her convinced that she was sensible to do so.

"Will you be joining us then, Father?" asked Eliana.

"I say this with regret," started he, "I am afraid I may not be able to do so today and the morrow."

"How dreadful, Father!" cried Juvia. "Allow me to keep you company then." Pretentiously asked her, seeking escape from the social obligation.

"My dear, Juvia," Mr. Lockser was never wary to make known, that even though his children had each their special place in his heart, amongst them, he held Juvia more closely, "humor your mother, just this once." requested he, and patted a hand on top of her daughter's head. For as it appeared, sooner rather than later, he may no longer be allowed this freedom.

After the preparations, Mr. Lockser returned to his books while his wife and their three daughters left in the carriage to the capital. They were met with several acquaintances and treated with sanctioned civility. To each one, Mrs. Lockser never failed to share her enviable news; and to some who were more than acquaintances, such as their neighbors also visiting, the private invitation she and her family were honored by the Lady and her lovely niece. To this embarrassment, Juvia attempted to remind her mother to be a bit humbler and feeling.

"I was merely responding to their inquiry," reasoned she, as the party continued on their path. "How was I being overbearing when I answered in all politeness?"

Juvia ought to respond in this way, "In all politeness and without humility. You were only being pretentiously modest while in all truth, Mrs. Lockser pronounced this piece of news so that the town would envy her covetable connections with his Lordship." Propriety demanded that she keep her silence and fall back in line with her sisters.

"I have never seen mother this high in spirits," mused the youngest Lockser.

Mrs. Lockser walked unapologetically on cloud nine that if her knees allowed, her extreme delight would have added a bounce to her every step.

"She is far much ahead of herself," replied Juvia, who eyed her mother's back with vexation. "I say she is foolishly counting the fowls before the eggs have time to hatch."

To this, neither Wendy nor the eldest had any response other than a shared, apologetic smile. So, Juvia opened a different topic to discuss on their way to Frankhurt Bakery, whose owner was an old friend of the Locksers.

"What a pleasant surprise!" greeted Mrs. Frankhurt at the door. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Mrs. Lockser briefly introduced her daughters, although no introductions were necessary, and thereafter handed her good friend some list of baking supplies she would need for the Caramade Franks, ones Juvia knew her mother would have the cook make and claim as her own doing. After Mrs. Frankhurt called for the store help to gather the supplies in the list, Mrs. Lockser began on the real intent of her coming down. With no real interest in listening to the conversation, Juvia joined Wendy by the dessert glass case; left their mother to the leisure of discussing with her longtime friend the attention paid by Lord Fullbuster's son to one of her daughters.

"Oh, dear Mrs. Frankhurt! What good news have I to tell," exclaimed she, "What wonderful news it is!"

Juvia had come to Frankhurt Bakery since she was a child and for those years she frequented the shop, be it on her mother's orders or her own volition, the second daughter had come to know that Mrs. Frankhurt's business was the center of all information, whether there be truth to it or naught. Gossip in Magnolia traveled faster than the speed of light. In order to assure the widespread of the good news, that the Lord's son was seeking intimate connections with the Lockser family, Mrs. Frankhurt's was the place to light the fire.

"You need not tell me, my dearest friend. Such an important piece of information had been widely circulated in this town before you even set foot in it."

Just as Juvia had expected, the townspeople were now aware of Mr. Fullbuster's frequent visits. She was quite sure, without having to see her mother's expression, that Mrs. Lockser was very much delighted by this news; but not as quite as so when her friend inquired further.

"But do indulge me with the intimate details. Of whom, amongst your daughters, was the intention made known?" Mrs. Frankhurt leaned in, asking without lowering her voice and for everyone in the shop to hear. "It could be none other than your eldest, am I correct? For what man would dare look past the elegant Miss Lockser?"

Juvia, who stopped thinking about the decorated cakes altogether, strained her ears to listen for her mother's response. Quite the complete opposite of Mrs. Lockser's earlier alacrity, there was only silence. The only answer she could offer was continued mum.

"Oh, please, my dearest friend," cried Mrs. Frankhurt, "my poor heart cannot take all this suspense."

Mrs. Frankhurt's curiosity was not out of friendly concern. Nor was it out of the goodness of her heart; for Mrs. Frankhurt knew no 'goodness' unless she found it to be in her advantage. All she had was this unappeasable need to be the first to everything. With news as important as Mr. Fullbuster's choice of wife, it was necessary that she be the first to know and be the first to circulate.

Thus, in answering her friend, Mrs. Lockser hesitated. She was as certain as the rest of Magnolia that her eldest daughter would be the first to marry; but for some wicked reason, fate pulled to a corner and laughed. And so, at that moment, her main concern was the would-be endless guessing of Eliana's faults that made Gray Fullbuster look past her.

Juvia knew of this repercussion. She would not have kept herself in check if not for Wendy's loud musings about the decorated cakes. Despite herself and what was proper, Juvia would have run her sharp tongue and lectured both ladies about the dangers of foolish presumptions and baseless blathers. Instead, she had to bite her own tongue and, on the long ride back home, suffer through the gnawing feeling of guilt for having caused her sister's sullen silence.

...

The morrow came by and the family, except for Mr. Lockser who had to tend to the fields that day, was up early. They journeyed to the Fullbuster Manor at the crack of dawn, with no time to waste, no daylight to spare. It was Mrs. Vastia who greeted them by the door and accepted the basket of baked goods with all courtesy. As she welcomed the members of the Lockser family, her studying gaze lasted a tad longer on her cousin's object of affection. Juvia took notice but scarcely made anything of it.

Just like her husband, Ultear was a pleasant and agreeable presence. Her aunt, Lady Mika, on the other hand, was restrained by mere civility, to which Mrs. Lockser was either oblivious of or merely disregarding. She ostentatiously admired the dwelling and talked of it in familiarity that could have been easily mistaken as an imposition. Juvia's warnings were all in vain as her mother continued addressing Lady Mika with overbearing intimacy. The Lady was only being polite not to withdraw her invitation, which Juvia was certain she had already regretted.

The party was led to a dedicated tea room, of size thrice as big as the Lockser's parlour, where Lord Fullbuster was waiting with a little bundle of joy settled in his arms. He stood and paid his respects to each guest, introducing to them the child in his arms as the Vastias' only daughter. He then excused himself from the party despite Lady Mika's insistence that he stay.

"Ur and I don't want to be a bother so we will make ourselves scarce," explained his Lordship. "I will happily play with this one until I get one of my own," added he teasingly, casting a look long enough to make Juvia feel as if those very words were addressed to her.

Juvia grew ill at ease and chose to cast her eyes down to the floor, lest she revealed the effects of his allusion. Her effort was for naught; Juvia could not anymore hide the color of her cheeks as it was her own mother who agreed and made a pact on her behalf by saying she too hoped it would be soon. Juvia had yet to agree on the proposal of marriage and here came her mother promising Lord Fullbuster a grandchild.

"I will one day hold you to that promise, Madame." The Lordship bowed with genteel, a smile of satisfaction stretched his lips.

Just when Juvia thought she could not get more embarrassed; Lord Silver left the room mentioning to little Ur a promise of playing with her cousins from Uncle Gray in the future. Juvia could have sworn she was about to come down with a fever.

"My uncle likes to amuse." excused Ultear, who looked interested at the exchange more than anyone. "Why shan't we take our seats?"

Each guest took their stations at the lavish sofas. As they made themselves comfortable, Mrs. Lockser more than anyone, the help arranged the refreshments wonderfully on the card table. Mrs. Lockser's pride, the Caramade Franks, was unwrapped and she made sure to offer her Ladyship the first bite. There was short hesitation at the Lady's end but her position required that she obliged her guests. A request Lady Mika did not have regrets over. For if there was one thing Juvia had considered her family's saving grace, it was the bread recipe passed from her great, great grandmother down to the current Mrs. Lockser. Yet, before her mother mused herself or anyone else of her daughters being good bakers, Juvia made sure her Ladyship knew that the bread was prepared by their cook's hands.

After the quick dialogue, and a discreet scolding, Mrs. Lockser sought back the group's attention. Juvia could only admire their hostess' amiability as they were deduced to a mere audience with the rapidity of Mrs. Lockser's words. She only spoke of Eliana, of her good points, which the second daughter took no offense from. She knew it was more out of habit rather than an evil scheme. Juvia had long accepted that she had no good points worthy to speak of.

The conversation took a round to Ultear and her husband's business. The grateful Missus once again expressed her gratitude for the lovely presents. Without allowing the benefactor to respond, she jumped from one topic to another: delicate ribbons, intricate patterns, expensive gems and some others, to which Juvia never took a particular liking. Growing disinterested by the minute with her mother's monologue, she excused herself from the party to look for the privy.

Outside of the tearoom, Juvia found his Lordship playing with the lively little Ur and talking to her as if the child could understand every word out of his mouth. Juvia found herself entertained to see such a powerful and intimidating man conversing with an infant who seemed to have understood nothing; yet, very pleased with the little careless laughs she offered. Oh, what delightful sounds bouncing around the empty hall. She could listen to it all day rather than Mrs. Lockser's endless ramblings.

The enchanted young miss did not realize she was already staring until Lord Silver caught her eyes.

"Apologies for my intrusion, my Lord."

"I knew a simple tea party would bore a young lady such as you."

Juvia was mulling on the intent of his words when he continued.

"It's the last door on your left. Just at the end of that aisle." He pointed to a path lined by a number of doors on either side and lavish furnishings in between them.

Juvia could see how easy it would have been to get lost in that general direction but she said no other words to Lord Silver but her simple thank you, curtsied and then left the two to their privacy. As she reached the end of the said hallway, Juvia turned to the last pair of doors on her left, as was instructed, thinking it led to the lavatory, only to open them into a roomful of books.

The room was magnificently large. Its walls were all covered by towering shelves filled with books in numerous varieties. With a quick scan, Juvia decided it was nothing like she had ever seen before and her curiosity drew her into the impressive study. She only realized she was not alone when her eyes landed on a figure seated around a drawing table. In the middle of the room, nose buried in his book and a few others scattered around him, was Gray Fullbuster, oblivious of a new presence about to disturb his peace. It was a tad too late to make her retreat as Juvia failed to catch the door behind her.

The loud clack caught Gray's attention. He looked up from his book and, upon realizing who his guest was, fixed himself more properly and dignifiedly on his seat. Juvia started to apologize for her intrusion but Gray acknowledged her with a customary bow and then returned to his book.

Juvia felt in the least bit insulted but the gentleman's apparent disinterest did make her feel unwelcomed. And so, Juvia motioned to the door, about to make her leave when Lord Silver's words echoed in her mind. A simple tea party, he said, could not at all keep her attention. Juvia admitted truth in his words as she could only do her best not to let out a yawn in front of her Ladyship. It was then that she started to weigh her options. For how could sitting in dreadful silence be any better than suffering through an afternoon of her mother's endless tirades? One, she could manage not to offend the graciousness of her hostesses, and two, she could care less about offending this man. So, instead of letting herself out of the study as she initially planned, Juvia allowed herself to stay.

...

tags: @greenapplegrass @shampooneko @trizfn @anaken101 @gruviaftw11 @juviasblog @heademptyonlygruvia @unvalley @jetblackrevival @lannyathewitch @groovyah @jujumanga @suihime @myvatdafakthings @keepcalm-lovefairytail @shounenmangaotphell @loli-go

#gruvia #gray x juvia #be-dazzled #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #gruvia period AU #gruvia fanfiction #period gruvia #jane austen gruvia #the art of falling

54 notes · View notes

oboevallis · 4 years ago

Text

who is he pt 2

i have a lot of prompts and second parts i need to get out, so don’t think ive forgot about them. thanks for all the support and i hope everyone’s doing well and staying safe!!

“Mommy?” Scout asked as he hoisted himself up on the kitchen islands chair. “Can I play softball?”

“That’s gonna be a no.” Amelia answered as she was cutting up carrots to put into his lunch box.

“Come on why?”

“It’s dangerous, I don’t want you cracking your head open.”

“How about soccer?”

“Still dangerous but a bit better.” Amelia anxiously closed the tabs on the Tupperware. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“So that’s a never?”

“I promise we will talk about this, but we’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on.” The neurosurgeon threw her sons lunch box into his book bag and zipped it up handing it to him, ushering him out the door.

______________________________________

“Oh hey, Meredith. I have a question for you how did you accept that Ellis wanted to play soccer? Scouts been asking to play a sport and soccer seems the most moderate.” Amelia addressed her sister as she walked into the lounge.

“Link’s here.” Meredith ripped off the bandaid. “He’s doing a surgery with Koracick, Koracick wanted the best.”

“He could’ve called anyone else.” Amelia sighed, stressfully running a hand through her hair. “How could Tom do this, he’s my best friend.”

“It’s really sad that man is your best friend.”

“Shut up Meredith.” Amelia went over to her cubby taking her scrubs off.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t stay here if he’s here.” Amelia sighed digging through her bag for her causal clothes. “Who the hell does Koracick think he is inviting him here? He could’ve called Torres she’s good.” She aggressively pulled her pants up when her breath hitched when the door opened revealing Link and Tom. She was frozen in place before she realized she had no shirt on, and quickly scrambled to throw it on.

“It’s nice to see you Dr Shepherd.” Link charmingly smiled.

“Likewise Dr Lincoln.” Amelia quickly said before exiting the attendings lounge.

“Amelia!” A voice called behind her.

“Can I help you?” She asked turning around, struggling to contain eye contact with the man.

“How are you?”

“Oh I’m dandy, how about yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m assuming the kid with you at the baseball game is your son, he’s a cute kid.”

“I’m aware.” The neurosurgeon said before quickly turning around to get away from the man.

“Can we get a cup of coffee?” He called as she continued to walk.

“No thanks!” She called back.

______________________________________

“Would you mind taking my kids back to your place? My sitter fell through and their in my office.” Meredith approached her sister who was leaning over the nurses station engrossed in a chart.

“Yeah sure, I was just about to get Scout from daycare.”

“Your a life safer.” Meredith patted her sisters shoulder before quickly leaving. She first stopped off at Merediths office to collect Bailey and Ellis, as Zola was already old enough to be at the house alone. The then trio walked down to daycare.

“I’ll be right back.” She told the children who refused to step into the daycare now that they were big kids.

“Link!” Bailey smiled when he spotted the man.

“Bailey.” Link hesitantly walked over, he didn’t know how Amelia or Meredith would react if they found out about this. “How are you doing?”

“Yeah I’m doing well, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile.” The man played with the skin around his nail, a habit he picked up from his former girlfriend.

“The Mariners are doing great this season, you think they’re gonna make it to the World Series?”

“I hope so. They’re on a roll so far.”

“Have you seen the new marvel movie?” He missed the man who was like an uncle to him. They were very close, while his relationship with his aunt had lasted.

“I haven’t gotten to yet, the Mariner players are breaking bones left and right.” Link chuckled, these last couple of years he had committed everything to the team.

“Scout what happened to your eye?” Ellis asked, she had been pretty uninterested in the conversation so she didn’t mind breaking it up.

“At recess I was playing soccer and fell and the ball was right next to my head and someone kicked my head instead of the ball.”

“Well that’s definitely a penalty.” Ellis joked.

“We have to go guys.” Amelia tried to stay as civil as possible, but was pissed Link was talking to the kids. She knew Bailey missed him, but thought he had more sense than to start up a conversation with him. She ushered the kids along, before Link stopped her.

“Wait.”

“What?” She snapped turning around, she hadn’t meant to, she was upset about the school not telling her that Scout got hurt, that her son got hurt in the first place, and now that Link was here.

“Can we please talk?”

“I’d rather not.”

________________________________________

“Mom?”

“Yes sweetheart?” Amelia carefully placed an ice pack on his eye causing him to wince.

“Why was the baseball doctor at the hospital today?”

“Dr Tom needed his help.”

“How did Bailey and Ellis know him?”

“Well he used to work at the hospital, it’s kinda like how you know Dr Tom, Dr Winston, Dr Carina, it’s just like that.”

“He seemed pretty cool.” Amelia simply hummed in response, she prayed he wouldn’t make the connection that he was his father. “Was he your friend?”

“Yeah, kinda. Now we’ve gotta get you to bed.”

“Auntie Mer isn’t here yet, so are we sleeping here tonight?”

“Yeah, we’re here for the night.”

______________________________________

The neurosurgeon tiredly sighed as she collapsed into the couch. It was easier to put Meredith’s kids to bed now they were older, but her son hated sleeping in places that weren’t his own bed, and it was always a fight to put him to sleep. She assumed Zola was still up though, now that she was a teenager Meredith was lax on her sleep schedule. A knock at the door chasing her to groan. It was close to 11 at night, she assumed it was Maggie and she forgot her key and has three jugs of milk because she had a fight with Winston.

“What are you doing here?” She groaned as she opened the door revealing Link.

“I wanted to talk.”

“About?”

“About life, us.”

“There is no us.”

“Only because you made it that way.”

“Yeah, whatever Link.”

“Come on, I messed up. But you could’ve told me he was mine.”

“Who said he was yours?”

“Well you named him Scout, and Meredith told me.”

“Did she?” Amelia rolled her eyes, pissed at her sister. “Anyway it wouldn’t have mattered, you’d only be there for Scout and not me.”

“Amelia how could you be that selfish?”

“How was I being selfish?”

“You’ve been keeping him from me, and Meredith says he’s been asking.”

“I don’t know why Meredith is telling you anything.”

“Please Amelia, we both screwed up. But it wouldn’t have mattered if he was mine or not I would’ve loved him and you.”

“Sure didn’t seem like that.”

“I haven’t stopped loving you, I haven’t felt the things you made me feel with anyone else. Your the only person I’ve truly loved.”

“Seems really convenient to saying this now that you know he’s your kid.” Amelia walked back inside and shut the door. “Bye Link.” She let a couple of tears run down her cheek before she sucked them up, and walked upstairs to check on the kids. Zola was in her former room engrossed on her phone, Bailey in his attic room with Scout on the floor, and Ellis in Maggie’s former room.

“Amelia are you here?” She heard a voice from downstairs and saw Maggie.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered while cautiously walking down the stairs.

“Meredith got pulled into another surgery so I offered to come by, so you and Scout can sleep in your own beds.”

“Mer just didn’t want to see me because she knew I’d kill her.” Amelia crossed her arms, giving Maggie her mom look.

“She really does feel bad.”

“No she doesn’t. She always thought it was wrong I didn’t tell Link.”

“Yeah, she really thinks she’s right.”

“Of course she does she’s Mer, she does no wrong.” Maggie chuckled at the accuracy. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

“I don’t know. I know Scout wants to know his dad, and Link wants a chance to be a dad. But I also know all you want is for your kid to be loved and you’ve done a great job with him, and you just want to protect him.” Amelia embraced her sister in a hug, before reluctantly letting go.

“I don’t know what to do. Link came by today, and he called me selfish. Do you think I’m being selfish?”

“I think your trying to protect your kid.”

“I just want him to be loved.”

“I know, and he is. He has a village of people, no matter what you decide.”

________________________________________

Amelia heavily sighed, it’d been a week since Link had showed up on Merediths doorstep. It had been all she was able to think about. She patted her phone across her palm, debating whether or not she should call him.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I’m not sure, what do you want?” She patted the spot on the couch next to her.

“Pizza?” The small boy suggested.

“We had pizza the other night. What about chicken and rice?”

“Just don’t burn the chicken.” Scout smiled while he said it. Amelia playfully rolled her eyes as she stood up.

“Why don’t you help, to insure that doesn’t happen?” After the pair had dinner, she helped her son get ready for bed. Leaving her alone once he fell asleep, and contemplating whether or not she should call her former boyfriend. She impulsively clicked the call button, and immediately regretted it but it was too late.

“Amelia?”

“Hey, Link. I-I umm, Scout has been asking about his dad. And I know I’ve hurt you, but maybe we can arrange something?”

“Of course I’d really appreciate that.”

“Okay, umm how do you want to do this?”

“I think we should both be there first off, and what does he like to do?”

“He loves the outdoors, he really enjoys when we go hiking or to the zoo.”

“Okay, how about Mt Rainer?”

“Sounds like we would be stuck with each other on a mountain for a whole day. Why don’t we just go to the zoo?”

“Sounds good. Friday?”

“Friday.”

“I’m sorry I called you selfish. I didn’t mean it.”Amelia abruptly hung up her phone.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #atticus lincoln #greys anatomy #greysanatomy #maggie pierce #meredith grey #zola shepherd #scout lincoln #greys fanfic #greys anatomy fanfic #bailey shepherd #ellis shepherd

33 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

more ways than one (01)

word count; 4951

summary; your first meeting with the stranger you rescued doesn’t go as smoothy as you’d hoped.

notes; I remind y’all that Stiles was possessed, but it veers off and it goes away, it’s not really mentions how, but the nogitsune never splits from Stiles. Allison is still alive, and Malia and Stiles are not a couple. Oh, and Derek is away travelling with Cora. That’s about it.

warnings; violence, choking, aggression.

You chewed on the straw in your mouth absentmindedly, your gaze trailing off into the distance as the girls talked constantly around you. You were vaguely following the conversation as they spoke, the girls chatting loudly about everything you had all been through lately, as though the supernatural was public information and they didn’t care about the opinions of those tables around you all who could easily eavesdrop if they bothered to listen closely.

Your eyes were squinted a little, the sun shining down and giving a warm feeling over the day, despite the storm that was due to set in later on in the day, and Lydia had texted you all this morning and told you to be ready to go for a late lunch while it was warm. She claimed that after everything that had happened with Stiles’ brief run-in with possession, and the year of supernatural crap that had gone down during your sophomore year, that you were all well overdue a lunch date to chat. That, and she was taking the opportunity to introduce Malia to the world of once again being bi-pedal and human.

Said strawberry-blonde snapped her fingers in front of your face, calling your attention to her and your thoughts snapped away from the nightmare you had somehow landed yourself in, your eyes focusing in on her as you pulled your milkshake away from your mouth, smiling as casually as you could as you looked at her. Her eyes were narrowed, lips pursed as she studied you carefully, before her lips were twisting up in a smirk.

“What’cha thinking about so hard there, girly?”

You cleared your throat, shaking your head and smiling casually as you lifted one of your fries to your mouth, chewing on the soft potato as you shrugged at her, trying your best to play it cool, but the four sets of eyes on you were throwing you through a loop. “Nothing.” You watched them carefully, swallowing the milkshake before taking a long sip of your milkshake, the chocolate flavour filling your mouth and she merely hummed, Allison was snickering as she turned to whisper to Kira, and Malia simply watched the interactions, taking the last bite of her double-cheeseburger and licking the sauce from the edge of her mouth, humming happily around the food.

“So, you’re not thinking about a pale and male-covered boy with brown hair and bright eyes?” You practically choked on your drink as Allison questioned you, your eyes wide as you wondered whether they’d found out about the lookalike you’d stashed at Derek’s loft, and you sputtered for an explanation, your cheeks heating up with a red flush, Kira cracking up and slapping the huntress on the arm as the two curled into each other in a fit of giggles.

“She’s totally thinking about Stiles, look at her blushing!”

You felt relief seep into your body as the tension slipped away, your body slumping in the seat as you rolled your eyes, your racing heart calming as your secret remained safe, for now. “Wait, am I missing something? Why would I be thinking about Stiles?”

Lydia picked at her acrylic nails, not even bothering to look up at you as she spoke. “Maybe because you’re totally into each other?”

“What?”

“Oh, come on. You know the two of you have gotten super close, lately!” Allison insisted, and your brows rose as you glanced around the other girls, and Lydia mumbled her agreement as she sipped at her water, a half-eaten salad sitting in front of her.

“When I first met you guys, I thought you were together,” Kira added, and you rolled your eyes, nibbling on your lower lip as embarrassment flooded through your system, the copy-cat male you’d hidden away yesterday slipping from your mind as thoughts of the original filled your thoughts. You loved your best friend, you truly did, and you couldn't deny how much closer you’d gotten to him lately, but it was only because he’d come to you when he started to feel the effects of his possession, confiding in you long before anyone else had. “I think you’d be cute together.”

“Are they not together?” Malia muttered, looking intently at the uneaten food on your plate, and you giggled as you offered it up to her, a bright smile taking over his face as she accepted the plate ad placed it down on top of her own empty one, quickly tucking into your leftover food.

“C’mon girls, he’s totally in love with Lyds, since like third grade. You know this, he’s not exactly subtle.” You teased, knowing it was true. The boy spoke about her all the time, and while he hadn't quite been as vocal about it, you knew he was still pining for the red-head girl.

“Everyone’s a little bit in love with me, but not everyone holds hands with their best friend.” You snorted unattractively, giving her a side-eye and leaning back, your legs crossing proudly as you thought about it.

“When have I ever held hands with Stiles?”

“Uh, like six times over the past three months?” Kira objected, the others all making various sounds of agreement as you watched Malia finish your meal too, a proud smile on her face as she leaned back in her chair, legs parted and hands sitting on her stomach as she groaned happily at the feeling of having a full stomach.

“Three of those times he was unconscious, one of those times he was going into a bathtub full of ice and one of those times he was checking into a nuthouse.” You pointed out, and the banshee counted them off on her fingers, wiggling a finger at you as she smiled.

“That makes five, what about the sixth time?”

You shrugged, deciding to bait them a little, a sigh falling from your lips. “You’re right, me and Stiles are totally and madly in love. You caught us out.” Their jaws dropped as they leaned forwards, a collection of squeals sounding as you tried to keep a straight face, eventually cracking up, and one by one they caught on as they scowled at you, Allison flicking you in the arm and Lydia pinching the other one, and you jumped away from both of them, rubbing your arms as you all but cackled at having fooled them.

The conversation moved on as they began to focus on other things, and you pulled your phone from your pocket, two messages flashing up on the screen and you clicked on the first, rolling your eyes as you opened the message from Stiles.

[batman 🦇💛] bring me ur leftover pizza back from lunch?

can’t, malia ate it, whoops x

[batman 🦇💛] >:( I can’t believe this, does 12yrs of friendship mean nothing to u?!

You grinned, rolling your eyes and tuning out the taunts and whistles you got from the group around you as they realised you were texting your best friend, your fingers flying over the screen as you typed out your reply, checking the time before you did.

according to the girls, it means we r in love x

[batman 🦇💛] ha. funny. ive seen u eat sand. couldnt kiss u now.

shut up, dumbass. I was 6 and u dared me x

[batman 🦇💛] kinda sad to kno the girl i'm in love w/ thinks i love u but that's my luck.

You cooed, rolling your eyes and promising that you’d text him later as you swiped out to the other text, your stomach churning as you realised it was from Derek. Admittedly, he was only asking about his loft, and whether you’d been over to check everything was okay, but it still made guilt twist at your guts before you sent a half-true reply, choosing instead to cover up the real facts.

Instead, you chose to tell him that you had definitely been over to check and that everything was tip-top okay, neglecting to tell him that you were stashing a supernatural double of your best friend only two weeks after he was mysteriously possessed and released, and that he was cut up and injured and arrived from a weird storm. Minor details.

Clearing your throat, you pulled out a handful of notes from your purse, placing them down in the amount that you owed as you excused yourself from the table, balancing the strap of your bag on your shoulder and smiling at the complaints of your friends as they encouraged you to stay, but it was already nearing the late afternoon and early evening, and you needed to grow the courage to return to the scene of your crime.

The pharmacy was only a quick walk around the corner, and you’d made sure to park your car outside of it so that none of them would see you leaving and entering the building with a suspicious amount of medical supplies, and you pulled the crumpled paper with your list pulled on out of your pocket. Smoothing the crumpled item out in the palm of your hand, the bell above the door jingled, the air conditioning washing over you immediately and you shivered at the sudden temperature drop upon entering the shop.

Peering at your own writing, you smiled uneasily at the cashier who was watching you, a kid who’d graduated just a year or two earlier, and her eyes narrowed on you as you moved through the shelves. Plucking one of the plastic shopping baskets from the side, you held it carefully in your arms, avoiding their scrutinising gaze.

Paper Stitches.

Your eyes scanned over the shelf, a surprising number of options displayed before you, and even the first option was already showing you the impact that this little shop was going to have on your bank account, and you simply prayed it would be worth it. Taking the largest size and strongest strength in your hand, you shrugged to yourself, dropping it into the basket and scanning the other ones. You could always pick up another size of you needed them, but you were definitely going to need at least two boxes of these ones for now.

You couldn't help the scowl on your face as the sum total began to add up in your mind, moving along the aisle to the wrapping sand covers,

Bandages. Gauze.

There were far too many options of bandages and covers, a jumble between compression wraps, light and thick material covers and thick and padded gauze. You could barely tell the difference between any of the options, and you began to think that maybe you should have paid a little more attention to the quick google search you’d done earlier as to what you actually needed.

First up, a collection of thick, cotton wool paddings to place over the large gashes the man had obtained, followed by gauze and bandages, a hand rubbing over your forehead as the collection began to gather up in the bottom of the basket. Your fingers brushed over the rolls of medical tape, and you dropped a roll of that in too, knowing you’d need something to fasten the material to his torso with.

You skirted around the corner to the next set of shelves, your cheeks flaring in a blush as you caught the suspicious gaze she was giving you, and you cleared your throat, holding your head high as you ignored the judgement hanging on her sights.

Antiseptic Wash. Hand Sanitizer. Cotton Balls.

100 cotton balls in a bag for three dollars felt like a good enough offer for you, and you dropped it into the basket, humming to the tune playing over the radio above your head as you swiped a large bottle of antiseptic wash from its place, and finally, a few of the small bottles of hand sanitizer, because you’d been needing some more of that anyway.

You hadn't quite been ready for the odd glare the ex-peer had given you when you placed the basket on the counter, and her eyes moved slowly between the items and your eyes, a sarcastic smile on her lips as she slowly began to ring them up, placing them all in a paper bag for you and ensuring they would all fit.

In a bid to avoid the wight of her stare fixed on you, you let your eyes scan over the ‘last-minute-purchase’ options on the counter, adding a packet of strawberry bubblegum to the collection and she scanned it through, reading your total to you and you jammed the card into the reader, wincing at the price that was displayed on the small screen. Your fingers punched into the buttons as you bit your tongue, taking the card and the bag as soon as you could and you darted from the shop, barely pausing to take your receipt from her as you fled.

Placing the stuffed paper bag on the shotgun seat, you rounded the car, letting out a deep sigh as you strapped into the seat and stuck your keys into the ignition. Digging into the bag beside you, you fished out the bubblegum, taking a stick from the packet and unwrapping it, popping it into your mouth and letting the chewing motion and sweet flavour soothe you as you started up the car and began the well-ingrained journey to the loft, anxiety riddling your body.

The radio played quietly in the background as you made your way along, the only sounds filling the car being that of the quiet hum of the latest chart-toppers, and the occasional pop of the bubblegum in your mouth. You weren’t really too sure why you were still keeping this secret from everyone, you had the perfect chance at lunch to tell the girls about what had happened, to get help and confide in someone.

Stiles.

Deep down, it was about protecting Stiles. The ripples on the surface of the water had only just smoothed back down, and you weren’t willing to throw the next stone in a situation that you were absolutely certain you could handle yourself. How dangerous could someone who was 147 pounds and unconscious be?

That was the only thought that was strong enough to force you up and out of the car, your feet carrying you forwards as you unlocked the main door, clicking it shut behind you as you made your way toward the stairs, choosing to walk all the way up to the top instead of taking the rickety elevator. You could use the time to calm yourself down, work out what you were going to do if the stranger you were harbouring was now awake.

Your hands were shaking so much that the keys were jingling as you walked, and you clenched them in a fist, taking a deep breath as you reached the final level and pausing before the silver metal door. With a deep sigh, you unlocked it carefully, sliding it out of the way and looking inside carefully. Natural light was flooding in through the huge bay windows at the other end, the concrete room lit up with warm light that almost made the monochrome grey space look welcoming, and your eyes zeroed in on the space that had once occupied that man you had rescued.

Nothing seemed out of place, the room wasn’t trashed and rummaged through, and everything was still and calm as you took a first cautious step inside. By the second step, you were sliding the door shut behind you, your brows furrowing. By the third step, a cold hand was sealed tightly around your throat, pinning you up to the wall as the tips of your toes brushed the ground.

The bag in your arms fell away, the items within it scattering across the floor as you squeaked, coming up to grab at the wrist holding you so tightly to the wall as you struggled to drag in any breath at all, your gaze meeting the furious one of the face you knew so well on the person you didn’t know at all. Those familiar honey-brown eyes were scanning over you interrogatively, and the long fingers wrapped around your throat flexed, tightening for a second before you were released, and you fell to your knees, eyes watering as you took in burning breaths, rubbing soothingly at the skin on your throat as the man merely stood and watched you for a second, before spinning on his heel and walking away.

You watched him go, shaking your head as he stormed away, and once your breathing had finally calmed and your heart had stopped racing so had on your chest that you thought it may burst out, you began to slowly gather up the items you had dropped, stuffing them all haphazardly back into the now torn paper bag and standing it up. Sitting on your knees, you took a moment to gather yourself, your eyes locking with the narrowed brown ones watching you, goosebumps rising over your body and you tried to seem strong, not to let him know quite how terrified you really were, as you took the back, standing on unsteady legs and holding your head high as you stared him down.

Making your way over to him, you placed the bag down in front of him, raising your brows as you moved slowly, the warning growl in his throat being acknowledged as you held up your hands, palms out to him to show you meant no hard, despite the fact that he'd attacked you only moments prior. Instead, you slowly tipped the bag upside down, allowing all the contents to spill out across Derek’s plain black coffee table, the man’s eyes scanning over it all, his face twisted in confusion as he looked at each item.

You stood with him in silence for a moment, letting him look at all the items, before he was stepping away from you, a snarl on his lips as he moved as far back as he could while still being able to watch your movements, track what you were doing. With a heavy sigh, you backed away yourself, never taking your eyes off of him out of fear of what he might do once you did, and for each step backwards you took, he moved forward one, and you slowly guided him toward the kitchen.

He lingered in the doorway as you moved around, never taking your eyes off of him for more than a split second as you searched through his drawers and cupboards, a small sound of victory leaving you once you found something you could work with, and you slipped two packets of the instant-noodles from the collection, dropping them on the counter as you continued your hunt on your meal-making task.

He flinched each time a pot or pan clashed, his eyes once again narrowing menacingly, and you had to suppress a chuckle because it was no longer focused on you, but instead on the source of the loud sounds, as he glared at a frying pan that had shifted and fallen loudly on another one. Selecting a pan big enough for the job, you quickly filled it with water from the tap, deciding that using the hob was definitely the safest bet, as you worked with this. Tearing open each packet, you held it up to show him as you watched on curiously, and you dropped the solid blocks of noodles into the water, waiting for it to begin to bubble over the flame.

There was nothing in the fridge that you could use, he’d gotten rid of everything perishable before going away, and you made a mental note to buy food, your heart once again sinking at the savings-draining task you had taken on. Maybe if you told Lydia, she’d give you her card and allow you to pay using her platinum, but you highly doubted you’d get away with telling her now without having to endure a long sit down talk and a lot of disappointed looks, which you weren’t ready to deal with. Lydia Martin could be scary when she wanted to be.

The silence hung heavily in the room between the two of you, and you tried to school your face into a stoic expression, despite the stormy scowl that was being directed at you, his body shuffling as you looked at him, his shoulders rolling from the discomfort of his injuries and he looked like he was going to try and dash at any moment. Taking two dishes from the lower cupboard beside your legs, you placed them out on the table gently, a fork beside each one and you stirred the noodles, the pasta soft and flimsy as it circled around, the savoury smell filling the air and you quickly dished up the food after switching off the hob, placing a fork in one bowl and pushing it across the countertop toward him.

He stepped forward as you took a seat on one of the stools, and you watched as he lifted up the instrument, pushing the pasta around the dish, a growl leaving him as he dropped the fork back into the bowl with a clatter, and you raised your eyebrows as you ate your own food, fixing him with a judgemental look and shaking your head. He used a single, skinny finger to push the bowl toward you roughly, some of the soup sloshing over the side and you let out a sigh, continuing to eat your food as he glared at you.

You had never felt quite so intimidated while in the presence of a bowl of noodles, and had you been anywhere else, in any other situation, you might have found this situation funny, perhaps even laughed at it, but right now, you worried you may actually choke on the noodles from stress. When you finally finished, and he was still twitching from foot to foot in front of you, his nervous shuffling giving you anxiety, too.

“What? You don’t eat, then?” He merely snarled at you, despite the rumbling in his stomach as the delicious smell drifted through the air and you raised a brow at him, shrugging and taking the bowl, his eyes watching as you snatched the food from in front of him. You made sure to make a show of tipping it into the garbage disposal, his eyes watching as the food slipped away into the drain and his jaw tightened, twitching as he ground his teeth together, his body jerking in shock as you slammed your hand down on the button on the wall and the loud grating filled the room, before you finished it, a smug look on your face as you cleared the dishes into the sink to clean later.

He stalked from the room as you did, his nostrils flaring at your actions and you wanted to stomp your foot on the ground and groan, but instead, you merely clenched your fists by your sides, following after him as he whipped his head around to see you following him, choosing to make his way over to the couch and poke through the items spilt out on the coffee table.

He picked up the bag of cotton wool balls, looking at them curiously before dropping them and you cleared your throat, his hard gaze directed back to you as you crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously. “Those wounds on your back are bad, you should let me take a look at you.”

He blinked at you, twice, eyes wide and his face didn’t move, giving you no indication that he was actually understanding a thing you were saying and you took cautious and slow steps toward him, his body tensing up as you did and you plucked the item from his hands, meeting little resistance as you held it up.

“These are for cleaning the wounds. On your shoulders?”

You placed the item down, motioning to your own shoulders as you tried to make him understand, and he twitched at the motion, his features falling from their hard glare a little his eyes softening and he swallowed thickly, his gaze dropping from yours for just a moment as he adjusted his arms. A wince was clear on his face as he moved his arms back, his lips parting and a quiet groan left him.

Your own shoulders slumped as you watched him, and you picked up another couple of items, deciding to offer him a small smile as you held it up, jiggling the packages before him, and the crinkling caught his attention. “These are for wrapping and padding the cuts, because those are really bad, and they’ll get infected.”

He pursed his lips, but for once they weren’t fixed in a heavy scowl and you felt as though perhaps you were making some kind of progress with him. Placing them down, you moved through the rest of the items, lifting each one slowly and telling him what it would be used for, only receiving the same blank looks and lonely silence as he stood before you, his gaze flicking over both you and the room multiple times. Despite the lack of verbal confirmation, you were choosing to believe that he understood you, because his posture had loosened, his body slumping forward a little and he seemed a little less like he was preparing to fight for his life at every turn of events.

It wasn’t until you’d finished talking to him and moved toward him that his defensive stance returned to him. He jerked aggressively away from you as you took a step toward him, and you lifted your hands, reaching out to him carefully as you motioned towards his back. “Let me take a look at your injuries!”

He stepped back again, his legs hitting the edge of the couch and he went rigid as you closed in on him, a low growl sounding from his throat, the noise rumbling from his chest in a warning and his eyes were practically burning with rage, his anger having built in seconds and your jaw dropped.

“We just talked about your injuries! I told you what I need to do!”

You tried one final time, reaching for him carefully and he took your wrist in his hand squeezing so tightly that your knees buckled as you released a cry, and he growled once again, this time predatory, as if to tell you to back off or it would get worse. Then, he was using his grip on you to push you back as you stumbled over your own feet, just about stopping yourself from tripping up and falling on your ass.

“Fine!” You snapped, your arms flying out to your sides as you shouted at him, and his eyebrows raised at your increase in volume, his eyes wide as he watched you, your own jaw clenching and you pointed at him angrily. “Go ahead, die of fuckin’ osteomyelitis for all I care!”

Your cheeks were flushed, and you fixed him with the harshest glare you could, before letting out a deep sound of anger, a groan that rippled through your body as you threw your head back, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to calm yourself down. Taking a series of deep breaths, you calmed your racing heart and the heat that was curling up your cheeks died down.

You mumbled curses under your breath, turning back to him to find him staring at you intently still, and you ran a hand through your head, grimacing as the tension in the air hung thickly. “Look, I’m going to go and get some warm water, we really need to sort out those gashes or you’re going to get really sick.”

You nodded at him, hoping that he understood before you were rubbing your hands together and turning on your heel, making your way into the kitchen. Fishing out a fresh bowl, you turned on the tap, running the water over the inside of your wrist to test the temperature, and when it became too hot for the skin there, you knew it was the perfect temperature. Gathering enough in the bowl, you placed it on the side, searching through the drawers for some clean rags.

When you first heard the metal of the door sliding, your brows furrowed, and it took a second before the realisation of what that particular grinding of metal meant, your eyes widening and you squeaked, dropping the material on your hands as you dashed from the kitchen, your eyes scanning over the empty loft area and your heart raced, bile rising in your throat as you guts twisted. “Shit!”

Your eyes focused on the open loft door, and you ran towards it, your feet moving quickly down the stairs as your tried not to fall, your blood pounding in your ears and you let out a panicked and frustrated yell as you noticed the main door now hanging open too, his taller stature and head-start ensuring you wouldn’t catch up to him even with his injuries, the area surrounding the loft still and empty, as though he had just disappeared.

Your legs buckled under you as the consequences began to run through your mind. Worry, fear and anger flooded your system as you kicked at a rock on the ground, tears lacing your eyes from the overwhelming floods of emotion bubbling over inside of you as you tried to work out what the fuck you were going to do now.

The sun was almost setting, dark clouds moving in over the sky and threatening to break at any time as the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking screwed.”

265 notes · View notes