#sigh maybe one day i will be less difficult in that regard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frostironfudge · 1 year

Text

Labyrinth - Bucky Barnes - Chapter IV

Summary: labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way. Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Word Count: 12.2k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Warnings: chapter contains 18+ moments, minors DNI, fluff, angst, swearing, fake engagement, sexual innuendos, bucky (he's a warning), sweet moments, sorta miscommunication, smut, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), making out, praise kink?

Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Masterlist

Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a dreamy gleam over the bedroom. Bucky peers from the bed as the dust specks float in random patterns, colliding and then settling.

The polaroid of the accidental kiss remains on his side table. He stares at it, then his hands cover his face. Palms warm, he sighs against them. The feeling of your wrists still burns like embers.

The way your breath felt over his lips and jaw. The look in your eyes as the pupils took over, darkening your gaze. Your throat bobbing, swallowing down the last bit of your refusal. He knew the two of you would have kissed.

The warmth of your thighs, his admission in Romanian was safe. You didn’t know the meaning. His own mind questioned his mouth having its own mind. In the depth of his heart he knew, he knew you were sunshine.

As the alarm rings, his heart tells him something that unnerves him — maybe you still are sunshine.

The day slips past him, work taking focus. Heart conspiring against his mind replaying his momentary loss of cognition over and over. Each time your lips moved closer than he remembered. Never touching him, no. It drove him crazy.

He stares at the invite and sends Yusuf the questions you had forwarded in the morning wanting to know dietary requirements and allergy information. Yusuf sent back a compiled list at the end of the day, with his heartfelt excitement and thanks written across the paragraph.

Bucky forwarded the email to you. His eyes study the profile picture of your email. Your picture beams brightly at him.

The little envelope icon has an unread notification. His heart does a somersault seeing your reply.

What is wrong with him? It's just an email.

From Y/N:

Dear Mr. Barnes,

Going through the list, there aren’t major requirements, just one couple is vegan and another two require gluten free. I think brownies should be okay? Or do you think cookies will be a better hit?

Best Regards,

Y/N

Bucky finds his mouth sour slightly at the mention of brownies. The entire ordeal still left a bitter memory in its wake.

Though those were the best fucking brownies he had eaten in his brownie eating lifetime.

He stares at the email, for a moment more and decides to humour you with a reply.

He’d reprimand himself later.

From James:

Dear To Be Mrs. Y/L/N-Barnes,

Brownies sound okay, it’s up to you. Cookies hmm, I think maybe not? Becca did love those mini cakes you made, wouldn’t that be easier to replicate in vegan and gluten free batches and be less of hardwork for you?

Regards,

Mr. Barnes

Instantly his phone chimes, you’ve texted him.

Y/N: Mrs. Y/L/N-Barnes?

Bucky: I had a feeling you wouldn’t forgo your last name in favour of mine.

The typing dots appear.

Bucky: plus that was my work email.

The dots disappear for a few moments.

Y/N: You made a point about the mini cakes, it’s easier to pull off.

Bucky: I’ve been known to be right, you can admit it, no one would know.

Y/N: your ego would and we can’t have it inflate further.

Bucky laughs.

John pauses outside his cabin.

Staring at Bucky.

Bucky: It would like to inflate as much as yours, sunshine.

Y/N: I can hear your condescending tone.

Bucky: missing me so much that you’re conjuring me?

Y/N: at least i’m not giving myself an adrenaline rush to do so

Bucky: Is that a ‘new moon’ reference?

Y/N: You know about ‘new moon’?

Bucky smiles again. John texts on the office group chat. Disbelief colouring his face. Bucky Barnes smiling and not perpetually scowling.

Bucky: I can hear your scepticism, now.

Y/N: Are you missing me so much that your mind is conjuring me?

As if you ever left my mind. He thinks, then stares at the chat.

A flurry of murmurs has Bucky look up, his brow raised at Yusuf, Darcy, John, and Woo standing with surprise coating their faces.

He stands setting his phone down and they scramble like headless chickens.

Yusuf and Darcy however remain behind and a little unnerved.

“Did you all need something?” Bucky’s tone is calm. He watches Jimmy and John peek from behind the end of the hallway. Not a really good hiding place.

“Oh nothing just,” Yusuf looks at Darcy.

She taps her foot, “Oh yes, I um, Yusuf the Boss Man here just wanted to tell you we’re going to have a celebratory pizza day tomorrow!” she beams at him.

“We are?” Yusuf’s brows furrow then he rectifies his surprise into a firm decision, “We are!”

“Yes, so we just wanted to know what pizza you wanted, cause bulk order so a day prior.” Darcy smoothes the wrinkles in her jacket.

Bucky’s sharp blue eyes observe all of them, “I don’t have a preference.”

“Cmon the thought of free pizza doesn’t make him smile but his phone does?” John clamps a hand over his mouth.

Darcy and Yusuf both wince. Jimmy begins to slowly back away, “Oh that's a call from my office.”

“From the floor above? Impeccable hearing Jimmy.” Bucky glares at all of them, Woo stops in his tracks, slowly turning.

“Was it Y/N? Making you laugh?” Darcy questions, all of their faces turn hopeful to know.

“I have work, deals won’t close by knowing about me.” Bucky turns around heading into his office and shutting the door.

Before lifting his phone he looks up, all of them scurry away. He shakes his head, you’ve sent him pictures of mini cakes. Delicately frosted and they all look delicious.

Y/N: I think the base flavours can remain the same, but I can’t decide on the frosting style, because those will help differentiate between the 3 types I'm going to be baking.

Bucky: You want me to pick?

Y/N: Well yeah, it's your event, you need to make a good impression and this will help. Food is the key to people’s hearts.

Bucky: right, is that how you won Beck over?

Shit, shit, shit, shit. It’s read before he can undo it.

Y/N: Yes, I allegedly seduce the rich men I want with my desserts. Can you pick the frosting or do you want to ask if he cheated on me because I stopped baking?

He frowns at the message, nothing in the chat warranted that kind of reply. Briefly his mind flashes back to what his mother said, he bites his tongue. Maybe he struck a nerve?

Bucky replies to the flower pattern for normal ones, swirls for vegan and roses for gluten free.

Y/N: If I need any other information I'll text you.

Bucky: Don’t hesitate.

Then Bucky un-sends the message.

You stare at the ‘don’t hesitate’, before it disappears. Your fingers twitch, wanting to smack him for his little comment about Beck and partially know how his stubble feels. You stare at yourself in the distorted fridge door reflection.

“Shut it.” You whisper to yourself. Angry that all you can think about is being pinned against the said device. Grabbing the coffee you’ve made you head to the desk to resolve the issue from work.

Going behind your boss’ back feels crappy but you needed to know what was wrong with the code. Maria had just given birth to a sweet little baby girl with her wife Natasha and was acclimating to the new addition.

Yelena was new to the team, the others were non cooperative and frankly uninterested to write a new code from scratch.

The meeting was in session when you joined in, Yelena and Maria beam at you and the others scowl. As you’re sharing the screen to view the old code with everyone when Christina scoffs in disbelief.

“What is it?” Maria asks and then you see it too.

“The major code has been changed.” Yelena observes, “The final edition Y/N showed me and ran was different.”

“Did you purposely do this?” Christina sneers, your answering glare is enough to have her morph her face to a neutral expression.

The entire team stares at the screen. A flurry of thoughts make way to the forefront of your mind.

“When I asked her for the code she refuses and then when I ask the client they send this, its uneditable so it went edited from the company’s end.” You explain.

“I asked for it too, I thought she just has an issue with you, but it seems she doesn’t have the version you sent her.” Maria adds.

“Do you know the company policy for code that doesn’t work?” Yelena questions, pulling up the contracts and sharing them on the screen.

“New designs and codes are charged twice if the host site is foreign to our base site or if the code does not work and the client fails to inform within the first 24 hour period.” She reads, “If the client has either issue and does not inform the company with a three week advance notice then they will be charged triple the amount as penalty for developing a new design code.”

Maria makes a displeased sound, Christina hums.

“Well at least we have the finished code, I say we copy, paste and send.” The latter chimes, stifling a fake yawn.

“What?” Yelena’s expression morphs into a glare, “We’d be swindling the client blind.”

“Can we talk to Viper?” You prompt, they remain silent.

“We could have the conversation during the meeting on Friday.” This idea is also met by silence. You sigh.

“Just prepare the code.” Christina argues, Maria and Yelena both look towards the screen in disagreement. You watch out of the corner of your eye while your palm takes the weight of your head.

“Y/N, you're the team leader, this is your call.” Maria reminds you, you want to hate her for the reminder. You can’t though.

“Put it to vote,” You pull up the poll feature, majority votes for talking to Viper during the meeting and you sigh. The remainder of the meeting goes smoothly as more designs are discussed and the two other pending projects have headways made upon them.

Compiling an update list you email it to Viper CC-ing your team so everyone knows what is going on. You close the laptop lid just as your phone chimes.

“Hey Wan.” You laugh as she runs though the house.

“Oh my god! Oh my god.” She gushes then cheers happily, holding up a piece of paper that is blurry.

“Um I can’t read–.”

“Email! Now.” She narrows her eyes at you, catching her breath.

As you open the email she still squeals, you laugh wondering what it is and then you see it.

“Oh my god, indeed.” You agree with her seeing the attachment.

“WE’RE DOING THE BACHELOR AND BACHELORETTE TRIP BAYBAY.” She sing-songs, “Dance.” Wanda instructs, you push back your chair.

Mimicking her dancing which could be a reminder of the way you two danced at every house party Wanda made you crash, which wasn’t great but the two of you always had a lot of fun.

“Now, pack cold weather stuff because we are going to Aspen!” She drags out the destination name and you laugh admiring her.

Bringing out your planner you note down the dates so that you can avoid baking commitments and take a leave from work.

“Friday. You’re coming over.” Wanda settles on the bed.

“The trip is two months away, we can’t pack now.” You chide with a laugh.

“Nooo, not for packing to spend the night having a sleepover, I’m kicking Steve out for you.” She laughs, her hair swaying as she vibrates with excitement.

“Well you need to un-kick him, I’m busy on Friday.” You hope she doesn’t pry but you know she will.

“Oh, is it a date? Tell me everything.” She claps her hands, you shake your head causing her to frown.

“Remember, I told you I ran into James at the bookstore?”

Wanda nods.

“A colleague of his saw us and blabbed, his boss invited him for a family dinner thing so I have that…” You shrug.

“You’re helping him?” Her words harbour the disbelief your own mind and heart hold when you said yes to go with him or think about the dinner.

“I just, it's his work…” You trail off for lack of other reasoning, “We had decided this would not impact our professional lives.”

Or a reasoning you just didn’t want to face.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Wanda blurts, her eyes observant on any and every reaction you give to the statement.

You want to tell her fuck off, but your heart feels that familiar jolt that only happened for Bucky–James, he’s James to you.

“Oh baby you do; don’t you? Why don’t the two of you talk it out?” She suggests, your face blanches.

“It’s been so long, I just, Wan, I thought the world of him and even today he just, he’s going to always think of me as a gold digger.” You lay on the sofa, the phone propped up by a bottle of water.

“Okay don’t talk, fuck it out? Steve did say he stopped sleeping with his old friends with benefits a month ago. Maybe…” She raises her hands in surrender when you glare at her for the insinuation.

“I don’t think it would be helpful to either of us.” You look back to the ceiling, but your mind takes you back to how he felt above you. Pressing against you but never with all his weight. The way his lips felt, the bottom one had a corner spot, worried as though he had a habit of biting them. His hair tickling your jaw when he leaned around you during the pretend cooking date.

“Y/N?” Wanda claps her hands loudly and you sit up, blinking away his thoughts.

“Sorry, I just,” You look away, “So when do we have to pay for the Aspen trip?” you divert the topic.

“Steve’s working out the finances, we’re hoping to cover the accommodation and food. So excursions and flights will be divided per passenger.” Wanda smiles, “I know it might be hard to cover up so don’t worry I have savings and–,”

“You mean the wedding dress fund you started when you met Steve Charming-Blue-Eyes-Wanda-Wants-To-Sink-In-Them Rogers?” Your brow raises her skin flushes.

“Oh and not to mention, Steve Wanda-Wants-To-Sink-On-That-Dick Rogers.” Your teasing has her groan but her flush only intensifies and you laugh.

“Shut the fuck up.” She glares at you.

“Steve Wanda-Wants-To-Do-It-In-The-College-Library-With-You Rogers.” You laugh again as she raises her middle finger and you raise yours in response.

“Fuck you.” She sneers, you pout.

“Steve will be sad.”

“I don’t like this side of you.” She complains whining at the teasing.

“Okay, okay, no more Steve Insert Middle Name Rogers.” You raise your hands to show her your sincerity. Wanda narrows her eyes observing you for any lies then nods. Satisfied.

“Although–,” You smirk as your next teasing comes about.

“You say one word, I'm spilling the beans to Bucky about your little crush.” She warns, you gasp, a hand on your chest.

“How can you?” You scoff, to add dramatic flair, then you clear your throat to return to your original mission.

“Bucky Please-Kiss-Y/N-In-The-Rain Barnes.” Her expression is smug as she observes the telltale sign of you being flustered. She laughs.

“Bucky please-lift-Y/N-up-like-those-weights-at-the-gym Barnes.” her laugh cackles as you sink your burning face into your palm.

Her list goes on and you groan.

“Okay–,”

“Bucky Y/N-baked-brownies-to-get-into-your-heart Barnes.” It’s a second later she realises what she said, you try to keep your expression neutral but Wanda sees the glimmer dwindling.

“Chip, I’m so sorry.” She sits up grabbing the phone, “I got carried away.”

“It’s okay, I need to get over it.” You shrug, “So can I tell you about my boss being unreasonable and my team member being a greedy person?”

Wanda nods, the two of you settle into conversation, the topic of Bucky remains forgotten.

Your heart still clenches when you think of Bucky briefly while Wanda uses the restroom mid conversation. You pat over your sternum, trying to soothe the distant ache of what could have been.

Friday evening rolls around much quicker than anticipated. You’re placing the final touches on the gluten free cakes as your doorbell rings. The final cake goes in the box and you cross check if every box is labelled and every mini cake has a skewer indicating V for vegan and GF for gluten free and N for No changes.

You try not to dwell on the meeting and its outcome. You could deal with that later. You would deal with that later.

You open the door, Bucky stands there, you hadn’t spoken to him since the nosedive conversation. You take him in, a navy shirt and pants. He’d brushed his hair back but they were slightly dishevelled as though he’d been running his fingers through his hair.

You open the door further allowing him to come inside.

For a moment Wanda’s words of wisdom make their way to your mind, as he makes his way inside.

Pleasantries aren’t exchanged but you hear his sharp intake of breath, then a soft curse. You frown, nothing was burnt in your apartment. Deciding not to dwell on it you return to the kitchen a final pass through over the boxes.

Bucky leans against the doorway of the kitchen observing you. Your apron had your baking company’s name on it. The outfit you were wearing was a deep violet top with cut outs at the shoulders. The black jeans clung to you in a way that had his eyes refusing to look elsewhere.

Forcing himself to look at your face, he pauses, noticing the smears of the buttercream on your cheek. As Bucky moves towards you, you pause, still fiddling with the piping bag tip.

The warmth of his thumb greets your cheek, he swipes at it. When he pulls his limb away you notice the buttercream on his thumb.

“Oh um,” You reach for the tissues, as you hold them out he only brings the digit to his lips, tongue swiping at the cream and his eyes close momentarily. You pause, breath caught in your chest.

“Burnt caramel?” He hums as you nod. He’s moved closer, so you have to look up to meet his eyes. Another swipe of his thumb on your other cheek but lower than before near the corner of your lips. Your skin heats, how did you miss those smears?

He repeats the same action, bringing the stray frosting to his lips. Eyes trained on you. You gulp, tongue moving over your bottom lip.

“Should be careful, sunshine.” He murmurs. Your gaze falls from his darkening eyes onto his pink lips. The corner of his lips twitches up in the slightest. Amusement is what you recognise.

Then they turn into a frown, “Why aren’t these your boxes?” He takes in the plain white packaging.

You take the moment to step away from the heated atmosphere, “It's your night, I don’t want to have the business’ promotion on there.” You shrug, Bucky’s jaw tenses.

“Go get your stickers. The ones you put for the cookies.” He instructs without room to argue.

“James, it's alright.” You try to brush it off but he only narrows his eyes at you then raises a brow. You move to argue again but he raises a hand.

“Use it to network, these are families. You can expand to them and you consider dietary requirements too.” He explains, “I understand why you chose to not use your boxes and labels but you should.”

A warmth manifests in your chest, the little part of your heart that was aching for you to remember and recall everything about Bucky and your scattered feelings tried to wrestle its way out. The way he sounded so supportive, you had wished for that from a partner. It is what you need right now.

“If I didn’t support your endeavours what kind of fake fiancé would I be?” He questions and the wrestling of your heart stops, ice cold water pours down your spine. Of course it isn’t genuine. He’s playing a role.

You nod curtly, blinking several times to keep yourself and your emotions in check.

“I’ll um, I’ll get the stickers…” Excusing yourself from the kitchen you leave Bucky, staring at the refrigerator.

Bucky wills himself to trace the path of your steps because thinking about you pinned to any surface by him was making his blood circulation head to his dick.

He knew this would be a good opportunity for you to showcase your skills plus families would have requirements for baked goods on and off.

You return with the stickers and he watches as you place one on the centre and one along the opening edge to seal the boxes.

“All done.”

“Okay, we can leave in five minutes so you can finish getting ready.” Bucky leans against the counter, fiddling with the sticker paper. You observe him for a moment then head into your room.

Checking your appearance and hair once again, and you double check for smears of buttercream on yourself. Everything seems clear.

Your purse is accounted for as are your keys, bits and bobs. Heading back you open up the tray to keep the boxes from shaking too much.

“We can head down, I’ll keep the folding tray in my car.” You look at Bucky through the doorway. He picks up a box placing it on the tray and then the remaining two you begin to open the door pushing out the tray.

“Wait.” Bucky walks towards you, hand on your shoulder to turn your back towards him.

His fingers ghost over your lower back, as you feel him tug on the apron undoing the knot.

Where is your goddamn brain? You wonder.

Bucky breathes evenly, though the gesture seems intimate. Arms move around your waist, he tugs the material up till the loop of the neck is out. When your hands move to smoothen your hair they collide with Bucky’s as he does the very same thing, smoothing any strands out of place.

“Thank you.” Your voice is slightly out of breath but laced with emotion. He needs to stop doing these heart flutter inducing things.

“You’re welcome.” He murmurs, then clears his throat.

The boxes are gently transported to the backseat, you keep them in place and Bucky holds up straps which would keep them stable but now pressed.

“No speeding tonight.” He says solemnly as you return from stashing the tray in your car.

“Unfortunately.” Your smile is sad, he chuckles drily.

The drive was mostly silent, apart from your occasional question about Alpine or his boss and the family. He didn’t ask you much just how work went and you prided on saying ‘fine’ without it sounding as though it was a blatant lie. Which it was but he didn’t need to know that. Yet. Your mind adds.

Walking up to the doors was slightly challenging but Bucky took the majority of the boxes leaving you with one. He slowed down his usual pace and you couldn’t help but laugh at his sort of waddle.

“Don’t laugh.” He warns, you can’t help but giggle more.

“You look like a penguin.” You comment.

“I am not a penguin.” He grumbles, still waddling, “I’m trying to not let your babies fall.”

“You even sound like a penguin protecting their egg.”

“It would be our egg then, since penguins mate for life. Newsflash you’re a penguin too now, Sunshine.” He grins at you, satisfied with having you be a penguin as well.

You humour him by waddling too, coaxing a laugh from him.

“No it’s this way, you will make our egg touch the ground.” He shows you his careful waddle.

“You’re right,” you match his pattern.

The two of you waddle along the sidewalk to keep the babies safe and waddle up the driveway. Bucky shakes his head at you when you stick your tongue out at him just as Yusuf and Muneeba open the door with bright smiles.

Bucky chuckles as you school your features, into a smile and greet them. The couple laugh with endearment and warmly welcome you into their home.

“Here you can set these down, oh they look absolutely delicious.” Muneeba admires the cakes from the transparent top as Bucky sets them on the small table.

“This is the infamous Mr. Barnes and his fiancé, Y/N.” Yusuf introduces beaming, “And if I’m not wrong she baked these delicious looking cakes for tonight.”

You find yourself smiling happily, “I did, I bake part time, and even um cater for events.”

Muneeba smiles, “Well Kamala’s school always has something or the other going on and the events that happen. I will keep you in mind.”

“That would be great, thank you so much.” Bucky chimes, his hands move to your shoulders, helping you take off your jacket, you find he took his off while you were speaking.

“It would be, I hope you all enjoy these.”

The older couple smiles, guiding you all through the house when a flash catches you and Bucky by surprise.

Kamala grins as the polaroid loads. You and Bucky exchange a knowing glance.

“Hi I’m Kamala, resident photographer of the house.” She bounds up to the two of you, “Is that the cake for tonight, oh they are so cute!”

You chuckle, “yes, they are, oh Bucky has a keen interest in photography maybe you could ask him questions?” you look towards him, he presses his lips into a thin line.

“Really? Would that be okay?” Kamala busts out the puss-in-the-boots-eyes, Yusuf laughs.

“If i can’t say no to those, no one can.” He chuckles.

Everyone turns to Bucky, his cheeks tinge pink.

“I, sure, we can, let me just set these down?” He raises the boxes slightly and you all are led into the kitchen. You take the boxes from him to allow him time to speak to Kamala. Muneeba helps you with setting them into trays that would fit into the fridge to keep the cool till dessert time comes up.

Yusuf excuses himself to attend a call.

As you observe him from the kitchen he’s got two cameras in his hands and is explaining several things to Kamala and answering her responding questions.

“Yusuf says he’s a hard worker.” Muneeba draws your attention away from Bucky.

“He is, the drive that he has shown over the years is commendable.” You smiled at her, you were proud of Bucky it was hard not to be, given his financial background or what you knew bits and pieces from Wanda and Steve.

Bucky’s resilience and drive were, still are one of the things you admire about him.

“Have you been together for a long time?” She questions closing the fridge.

“Oh um, I have known him for seven years, we only got together a year ago and he proposed six months ago.” on instinct your gaze moves to the ring.

“That is more of a wedding band than an engagement ring.” she says, you try not to let it rub you the wrong way.

“It’s beautiful.” She adds, your face morphs into shock.

“A lot of people comment on the diamond size, don’t they?” She holds out her own hand, a gold band with a diamond similar to the one on your ring harbours her hand.

You smile at it, “It’s gorgeous. What's the story behind it? If you don't mind me asking?”

Muneeba smiles, “He bought it with the first commission he made. Tradition would have it he hands the first bit of his own money to his parents as a thank you but Yusuf ever the charmer went and found this, back in our hometown.”

“And then I walked miles and miles, to return to her home and ask for her hand in marriage.” Yusuf enters the kitchen, an arm wrapping around his wife’s shoulders.

“And my Father almost kicked him off of the house’s roof for his insubordination.” Muneeba laughs, head resting on his shoulder.

“Luckily my brother knew what I was up to and saved me.” Yusuf chuckles, “My parents weren’t happy about my ways but one look they took at my light and they were in love too.” He kisses her forehead, she laughs, lightly swatting his chest but her hand remains there.

Their gazes intertwine and your heart lurches wondering when would you be able to share such a look with someone.

“Are they telling you the story?” Kamala’s voice and camera flash announce her presence.

“They are, they're really cute.” you grin at her and there is a flash opposite to you, your eyes meet blue.

Bucky only observes you for a moment before handing the film camera back to Kamala.

“Now there are about 29 pictures left on it, have fun with it and we can go to get it developed, if your parents agree if not I’ll get it done for you.” There is a ghost of a smile on his face, when he makes his way over to you.

“It's nice to see you in your element.” You offer, the corner of his lip twitches upward. Your hand reaches towards his hair a stray thread stuck, you pull it away. Tucking his hair back.

Your nails softly scratch at his scalp, as your hand moves to feel the softness of his hair more, it’s grown out further, the back almost brushing his shoulders.

Bucky closes his eyes, leaning into the small totem of affection.

“If Y/N accompanies I’ll come along with you. She seems cool.” Kamala brings the two of you back to the present.

Bucky doesn’t like how your hand is no longer there. Your thumb traces your fingertips as if the sensation isn’t already committed to memory.

Bucky looks towards Yusuf and Muneeba, they chuckle.

“If the two of them don’t mind and you are mindful of school work.” Muneeba instructs pointedly.

“You can come to the office after school, meet Mr, Barnes there.” Yusuf adds, smiling when Kamala cheers and rushes to hug them.

You smile, Bucky’s hand wraps around your waist, you try to keep your surprise minimum. Leaning into his side. It is an act, he’s acting.

Bucky’s heart beats louder when you lean into him. His gesture had come naturally.

As Yusuf and Muneeba head to the front of the home to welcome the arriving guests, Bucky realises something when you shift from him while you two also head into the living room. Kamala shows you the polaroids while keeping you away from him. He’s close enough but his body wants you closer.

He already began to feel the absence of your warmth.

“There he is!” Jimmy Woo cheerily greets Bucky with those hugs that men do, Kamala begins taking her pictures. The remainder of his family walks in, his husband and their two kids.

“Hey Jimmy.” Bucky greets back, “Lang, haven’t seen you in a while.”

The older brunette chuckles, “You’ve been hiding someone a while, Barnes.”

His daughter beams brightly at Kamala pulling her away from you.

Bucky shakes his head, “Well let me introduce you.”

You stand to the side watching Bucky interact with his co-workers. He then turns to you holding his hand out. You move over to him, taking his hand in your own.

“This is my fiancé, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jimmy Woo and Scott Lang, that is his daughter Cassie with Kamala, Mina is Jimmy’s oldest and Akira his youngest. Steven is his partner.” Bucky explains.

“Hope is on her way, caught up at work.” Scott explains, “She’s my girlfriend.”

You greet everyone, Mina and Akira are the sweetest little munchkins. They ask about you.

“Do you have a favourite flower?” Akira ponders, just then Mina beckons her towards Kamala and Cassie.

“Well I quite like orchids, a while back I was obsessed with Roses.” You explain, she smiles and then scurries away with her sister.

“I think that's the cool kids table.” You joke, Bucky hums.

“I think we can set your plate there, Sunshine.” He teases.

“You’d need to be next to me, if they certify you uncool we gotta rethink this, Mr. Barnes.” You squirm and let out a soft squeak as his digits dig into your side in a warning tickle.

Bucky pulls you closer to him, your hands rest above his own. Jimmy and Scott both look at you two as if scrutinising your every move.

“Hello Everyone.” Yusuf walks in with another family and Muneeba is speaking to the women.

“Jimmy, Scott you both have met the Siddiquis and Singhs.” He directs their attention, Jimmy and Scott nod moving ahead for greeting.

“Ah Scotty boy, ready to lose again?” Mr. Siddiqui teases, shaking his hand, Scott’s skin flushes as he laughs scratching his neck.

Bucky watches the interaction as you look up at him. His demeanour is suddenly tense. Hands tightening on your waist. You pat his hand, he gazes down at you.

“You alright?”

Bucky nods at your whisper, “Socialising isn’t a strong suit.”

“I’ll fake feeling sick if you want me too.” You grin feeling his chest rumble at your joke.

“James, this is Altaf and Meena Siddique, his sons Ali and Faiz.” Yusuf gestures, Bucky moves forward but keeps his left hand intertwined with yours as he shakes their hands.

“This is Ikbir and Harleen Singh, their kids, Bij and Jasmin.” Yusuf continues, Bucky shakes their hands.

“This is my fiancé, Y/N.” Bucky lightly tugs on your hand, you step forward and Meena and Harleen both engulf you in a hug, one by one.

Yusuf explains what work they do and Bucky asks them questions which you note leave them impressed.

“So Y/N, what do you do?” Altaf questions, taking a sip of the lemon passionfruit tea drink that Steven and Jimmy brought as their part of the potluck.

“I’m into web designing as well as I have a side business of baking.” You explain, sitting down on the chair near Bucky.

It almost seemed like a big family gettogether, the kids playing off to one side, the adults discussing various topics and catching up. The food was arranged buffet style along the edge of the living room.

Occasionally one or the other person would leave the group to make their plates for the starters.

You take a glance at Bucky’s plate as you stand, he’d been loving the little chicken seekh Muneeba had made, you smiled seeing him fiddle with the skewer and his gaze moving to the table.

You make your way over and take the last chicken seekh, and one piece of the other starter. Heading back to the group Bucky passes by, he clicks his tongue seeing the seekh plate empty.

“Something wrong?” You ask, he sighs filling in on the other starter.

“No, nothing, their discussing design wanted you to be there.” He explains without turning.

“Okay.” You head back to your place.

The topic flows and Altaf appreciates your inputs, Bucky returns a minute later. When Jimmy distracts him with a work quip that has everyone in stitches and Bucky shaking his head in disbelief, you place the seekh in his plate.

Bucky’s brows furrow when he looks down at his plate. Your plate is empty and he did see the seekh on your plate. When he looks towards you, you’re in a discussion with Jasmin about college majors for keeping several options open.

The thought of you taking the seekh for him has his heart do the endearing somersault. Bucky’s feeling a rush of emotions at the small gesture not understanding why this piece tastes even better but he savours it.

“Alright.” Aamir claps, drawing everyone’s attention, “Now since our bellies are slightly full and the main course is Meena Aunty’s butter chicken biryani. We have to get onto our next segment.”

You and Bucky exchange a glance.

“The mini game night.” Tayesha declares as everyone hoots.

“Should we be worried?” Bucky chuckles, Aamir laughs then he seriously looks at the two of you.

“You should.” He deadpans, then laughs.

“Alright, the first game is individual, you need to find the hidden teddy bear.” Tayesha shows the image of the furry bear on her phone.

“It is hidden on the ground floor only.” she adds as everyone scurries.

Bucky and you remain seated.

“Do you not want to win?” You ask scanning the places that are resulting in disappointment.

“Oh I know where it is.” His expression is neutral.

“Where? I want it, it’s a cute bear.” You feel the competitiveness kicking into gear.

“Now, now, it’s an individual challenge, Sunshine.”

You huff, shifting away and trying to find the bear yourself. Bucky remains calmly seated all through the search. To the credit of everyone the game lasts five minutes before all give up. Then Bucky stands heading to the chair where everyone had placed their coats and bags.

He turns with the bear. Aamir and Tayesha begin the applause and everyone joins in, you glare at him. As he rises from his bow, he gives you a wink.

“Now, hand the bear to your partner.” Aamir breaks his victory.

“Why?” Bucky frowns, “I won it.”

“For her.” Tayesha laughs, “If she would have won it would go to you.”

“Yusuf, he’s reacting like you.” Ikbir laughs, patting Yusuf’s back. Everyone breaks into laughter.

Bucky hands the bear to you as he sits down.

“Aw, we can share him.” You have the bear boop his cheek.

Bucky grumbles, Scott laughs at his ire. Hope chuckles as well.

The charades round resulted in the kid’s team winning against the adults. Bucky and you were put on their team since you both were the youngest entries into the family dinner. No one realised how easily Bucky and you flowed around each other.

Responding to one movement of each other.

You beam at Bucky, as the prizes are slabs of chocolates. Bucky watches you hug the kiddos and laugh with them. He wonders if this would have occurred earlier on had six years ago not taken place. Would you two have a deep understanding that would result in beating Steve and Wanda at game night instead of it always being boys v. girls?

In which it would be set that you would go against Steve because you two would be at each other’s throats over the littlest things.

Jimmy pats on Bucky’s shoulder. He turns to answer.

“Hey.”

“I can see why you chose to keep it under wraps.” Jimmy smiles seeing you admire the drawing Akira made earlier.

“Steven and I wanted to enjoy our little buble too.” He smiles fondly towards his husband.

“Steven is really competitive.” Bucky chuckles, Jimmy joins in.

“Honestly all through high school we tried to one up the other.” He recalls, Steven looks at him at that point hearing the conversation.

“I beat you for valedictorian. Even at Harvard, at the top of the class, this man is always behind me.” Steven’s face flushes, Bucky wonders why.

“It’s because I wanted to stare at his great tush.” Jimmy winks at his husband who only flushes more.

“Academic rivals to husbands.” Bucky returns his gaze to you, you’re smiling up at him and it reminds him of sunshine after a cloudburst.

“Yes, so there is hope for every type of story.” Jimmy smiles at Bucky.

“Soare (sunshine).” He hears himself whisper to you. You pick that very moment to look up at him. When your gazes lock, there is a smile on your face. Bucky’s heart does that stupid thing again.

Then your gaze moved behind him. Tayesha was handing everyone white boards and markers.

“Alright last game before the main course.” Aamir announces.

Then requests the couples to face each other in a lineup, they have under a minute to hold the small white board above their heads and draw their partner or person opposite to them to the best possible degree. The closest resemblance wins a secret prize.

Bucky faces you, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Scared, Puffin?” You tease.

“Puffin?” He raises a brow.

“That is your nickname. You have one for me.” You shrug.

“Puffin? Of all things?” Bucky’s eyes harbour his offence and irritation.

You only shrug, it irks him more.

“Think better, Sunshine.” He rolls his eyes, then looks towards Aamir and Tayesha as they begin the countdown.

“Nah, I’ve made up my mind.” You say as the whiteboard goes above everyone’s heads and they look at their partners.

“You like your nickname, I don't.” He urges, beginning to draw.

“Lets see, Puffin. Also I do not recall ever saying I liked it.” You bite back a grin as he huffs, rolling his eyes.

The air is frantic and humours as everyone begins to doodle weirdly shaped humans. You yourself try to replicate Bucky to the best of your ability.

Bucky’s gaze is trained on your face, the angle at which they are drawing is odd at best. He makes a last thirty second decision to redraw. You don’t look at his whiteboard too focused upon getting that little freckle near his cheek in the right position.

The timer resounds and everyone has to one by one display their drawings. Scott and Hope had one of the closest resemblances and you felt your chances dwindling.

Then Bucky turns his drawing and all everyone aws loudly, your gaze lifts to his whiteboard. He’s drawn the sun, given it a face and a smile.

Your cheeks set ablaze with the flush.

He drew you as sunshine.

Bucky keeps his features schooled watching your reaction to the drawing. He didn’t realise everyone would gush over the adorableness of it. He just went with his heart.

“James Barnes trying to woo everyone here.” Aamir comments, earning laughter.

“You’re just jealous you didn’t pull that off.” Tayesha teases him.

“I take great offence in that, meri jaan (my life).” He narrows his eyes at her, but then she breaks out into a smile.

“Sap.” She chuckles.

“Only yours, meri jaan.” Aamir reminds her, kissing the back of her hand.

“That means my life right?” You ask Kamala, she nods.

Bucky observes the longing glance you give the couple. A wistful sigh and then you fiddle with your own whiteboard.

The attention returns to the remaining people, your drawing earns some laughs. Somehow Bucky’s hair turned into devil’s horns and Scott and Jimmy insisted that is how Bucky was in the office. A ruthless devil with a devil may care attitude.

Bucky rolled his eyes, giving them a glare but he agreed to the sentiment.

Kamala went around taking polaroids of the couples holding their drawings and random shots on the film camera Bucky set up for her.

The conversation breaks off into small groups during the main course and all the delicious food has your stomach in knots over if your desserts would have the night end on a good note.

“Y/N, would you like to set up now? I have place cards ready to signify gluten free and vegan.” Muneeba questions and you follow her into the kitchen. Bucky trails after you, knowing the trays are several.

“Oh James, we can handle it.” You almost bump into him when you stop.

“Will be easier to get the trays out with three people.” He shrugs, grabbing two trays of normal ones. Making his way out.

Muneeba smiles at you, handing the gluten free ones you make sure to place them away from the normal ones and vegan ones, you even prepared a gluten free and vegan hybrid one incase anyone had stricter requirements. She herself takes on the vegan tray.

It takes two trips but all the trays are out. You move to the side just wanting to observe.

Steven leads his daughters towards the gluten free ones. Adoring their excited expressions as the kids tuck into them their wide smiles ease your nervousness.

Bucky watches your hands fidget as you begin to get nervous. He wonders what causes the response. He knows the reviews you get are stellar, you should be confident in this skill.

Your nerves don’t ease when Bucky approaches the table, taking a smaller plate and placing two mini cakes upon it. You watch him walk over to you, just as he is a few feet away he begins the waddle again.

When he hears you laugh he resumes a human gait.

“Puffin.” You deem yet again much to his dismay.

Wordlessly he hands you a spoon, but then using his own spoon he brings the bite to your lips.

“Eat, it’s good, you’ve done great, everyone is loving them.” He taps the spoon to your bottom lip.

Your lips part as Bucky feeds you, you watch as his gaze darkens, his tongue moving over his bottom lip when your tongue swipes at the bit of buttercream on your top lip.

This goes on, he feeds you bite after bite. Your heart hammering in your ears at the intensity of his gaze. Your eyes fall to his hands in search of respite but you get none, he had rolled up his sleeves and his tattoo was on partial display and the way his hands are your body remembers the feel of them.

Imprinted teasingly on scarce areas of you.

“Hear them?” His baritone is deep, bordering on sultry.

The room fills with hums of happiness and praise that leave your cheeks aching and warm at the smile that graces your features.

Bucky swipes at the small portion of buttercream at the corner of your lip. Bringing it to his own lips. The sound he makes has you swallow. That hum of appreciation. Your mind wanders and you pause the thoughts of what else would taste so good for him?

“Oh we have to have these for the next PTA meeting.” Harleen declares.

“Y/N, these are really, really good.” Muneeba adds, everyone declares their agreements.

“Thank you.” You grin, looking up at Bucky wanting to share this moment.

“Told you.” He watches the way you light up and the earlier nervousness dwindles away.

“Honestly with the two of them having Celiac its so difficult finding good gluten-free goods, do you do more?” Jimmy pipes up, you nod.

He beams and turns to his daughters if they would like more cakes.

“Barnes, you have to have your girl send her menu to everyone at the office.” Scott’s mouth is full and Hope laughs. Cassie giggles as her dad grins with his mouth covered in frosting.

“I agree, son.” Yusuf calls out.

You smile at all of them, your heart feeling full.

You turn to find Bucky but he’s heading towards the kitchen. You know he wasn’t done with the cake. Did he even eat it?

Bucky stands staring down at the little cake. Everyone was praising it rightfully. The buttercream frosting was delicious each time he tasted it. His mind wondered about the way you taste. He groaned, he needed to keep the filth out of his mind.

“James?” Your voice has him turn.

His eyes move over you, almost protective.

“I’m okay.” You assure him, “Just wanted to check up on you.”

“I’m fine, just feeling a little full.” He sighs, he still struggled based on what Brock had told him you said, maybe he should just ask you.

“You did enjoy those chicken seekhs, I bet Muneeba would give the recipe.” You try to not let him not eating the cake affect you but it does, it still did.

“Did you get any orders?” He distracts the two of you.

“There are some inquiries.” You look back out as there is laughter in the living room.

“Come back out?” You request, offering your hand.

“In a moment.” He stares at your hand, not missing the slight shake before you retract it.

“Okay, Puffin.” Your voice wavers, but you turn heading towards the guest bathroom.

He’s just playing along, he doesn’t want anything to do with you beyond public displays.

Your mind urges to remind your heart. Your heart brings up the soft moments shared through the night. Disallowing your mind to ruin them.

Staring at yourself in the mirror was never great, you had been avoiding it all night. The confrontation with yourself. Wondering if your ethical integrity bit you in your ass?

Bucky re-enters the living room, he does end up eating the cake. It wasn’t as delicious as the brownie but he loved it. The way you made flavours work was something he knew was a skill and asset.

His frown deepens when he still can’t locate you.

He catches Hope’s gaze and she points to the guest bathroom, he walks over.

Before he can knock he hears a quiet sniffle.

Your hands grip the counter, you try to keep quiet. You don’t need to cry in the midst of such a happy event that makes you wonder when was the last time your family ever did something like this?

The water runs as you do your best to hide evidence of breakdowns and tears. Over the years you had gotten good at it.

Bucky leans against the opposite wall waiting for you to come out. Has he upset you? Were you not enjoying the night? You seemed alright.

The lock clicks and you step out. Bucky observes you, not a trace that you were crying. If he hadn’t heard the sniffle he wouldn’t have guessed you cried.

“Oh, Puffin, hey.” You smile at him.

“Sunshine.” He acknowledges.

“Sorry I realised my mascara turned clumpy so it took a while to get my lashes looking decent, again.” You walk past him but his fingers wrap around your forearm pulling you back. He has you between the wall and him.

“James.” You chastise looking to the side, anyone would walk in and see the two of you.

“Sunshine.” He gazes down at you, caging you in, a mischievous smile.

Your hands rest on his chest. Warmth seeping into your palms.

“Anyone could see—,”

“Let them.” The tip of his nose brushes along your jaw.

“James.” Your voice is breathless, you feel his stubble graze over the spot beneath your earlobe.

The soft sigh you make sinks into his blood. He repeats the action. The sound amplified.

“Prettiest sounds.” He praises, you feel your nipples harden and clit pulse.

He shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t ruin this stolen moment.

“Why were you crying?” He whispers.

You tense, “I-I wasn’t.”

“I heard your sniffle, Sunshine. It isn’t of any use lying.” His hand moves from your waist to your jaw making you look into his eyes.

“It’s nothing important.” When your gaze shifts his grip tightens you look back into his storming blue eyes.

“It is important.” He presses, fingertips now stroking the skin of your jaw.

You close your eyes, the gesture already fueling the inferno that craved affection to process everything. The weight in your chest tightens you don’t know how long you can keep this up. You felt genuine happiness through the night. You don’t want it to crumble.

Bucky watches you, even with your eyes closed he realises you’re struggling with something. He doesn’t understand why he’s so adamant to know what is wrong. Why does he want to fix the issue?

“C-Can we discuss this later?” You hate how weak you sound, “I don’t want to ruin how the night is going.”

“Alright.” Bucky gently releases you, the air changes.

The thick tension dissolves and Bucky finds he can breathe slightly easier. You look up at him, he moves his gaze away from you that very moment.

“We should head back.” You move towards the bathroom again, giving yourself a once over.

Bucky says nothing, only nods.

As you both walk back to the living area, you reach for his hand. Bucky intertwines your fingers with his giving a light squeeze.

The Singhs are the first to leave when you spot bags in almost everyone’s hands you wonder how Muneeba was able to to package the food for everyone after the feast.

As the families begin to leave the conversation dwindles, Mrs. Singh takes your number and texts you from the car about an upcoming order she would like you to cater.

Bags are thrust into yours and Bucky’s hands Muneeba grinning brightly. Yusuf smiles as they walk you and Bucky to the door.

When Yusuf doesn’t shake hands with Bucky but envelopes him into a hug and a pat on the head. The same pink tinge takes over his features, tendrils of his hair brush his cheekbones and you feel yourself admire him yet again.

When Yusuf turns to you with an unreadable expression you wonder breifly if you messed up in some way.

“Thank you for coming.” He says, the same head pat and a hug from Muneeba engulfs you.

“Can you both adopt me?” You chuckle, trying not to let the emotions get to you.

The couple laughs, “Consider yourself already family , Y/N.” Yusuf smiles as his wife nods.

Bucky watches how much those words mean to you, part of him hating how deceiving you two were being. You look up at him. Bucky leans forward, his lips brushing against your temple.

Your free hands intertwine yet again as the two of you walk back to Bucky’s car. Once in the quiet familiar background you find yourself deflating.

“Thank you.” You look at his side profile, illuminated by the streetlights.

“For what?” His expression is neutral.

“You could have made up a reason to not attend, but you didn’t and well, while I feel bad lying to them. I, I had fun, I felt like it was one big family. That I was a part of it.”

At the stoplight Bucky looks at you, “Thank you for coming along.” He says nothing else as he begins to drive as the lights turn green. You study him for a few moments more before turning your gaze away onto the road.

“Also Puffins aren’t Penguins, Sunshine.” He speaks up nearing your apartment.

“I know.” You giggle.

“We established penguins.” Something within Bucky commits the sound of your laugh to memory.

“I know, Puffin.” You tease, he huffs.

“Why?” Blue eyes flicker to you.

“Because ‘penguin’ is too long to say.” You shrug.

“Oh so is length an issue for you?” He smirks, “It shouldn’t be.”

You lick your lips, “Shut up, you’re puffin.”

“I refuse to be anything other than a penguin.” His right hand moves off the steering wheel to emphasise his point. He turns the wheel with the palm of his left.

“Okay, so then,” You will yourself not to lose your train of thought, do not look at those forearms.

“Then?” He sounds smug.

Those fucking forearms.

“Then,” you look at his face, “Puffin is code for penguin.”

“What?” He makes a face, nose scrunched and his dislike dripping .

“It’s a nickname, when I say puffin, you will know I mean penguin.” You explain laughing at his irritation.

“Sunshine, that isn’t right.”

“What would you prefer? It’s either a puffin or a baby penguin?”

“Nestling, yes.”

“Chick, the most commonly used term is chick.”

He stays quiet, two fingers resting over his lips as he contemplates his choices.

You only grin.

Bucky grumbles under his breath.

You grin wider.

“I’m sorry, what was that, puffin?”

“Wipe that grin off your face, Sunshine.”

“Nope, I don’t think I will. Puffin.”

“I’m only allowing it since I know you mean penguin.” His hand returns to the steering wheel.

“Was that so hard?”

“Extremely.”

“Aww, little troubled Puffin.” You chuckle, he pulls into the parking of your building.

His phone chimes, he ignores it.

As you move out of the car he retrieves your bag of food. Locking the car he walks over to your side.

“I’m walking you up.” He explains in a tone that leaves no room to protest.

You nod, walking with him.

Bucky’s phone chimes several times in succession.

“It could be important.” You urge, he glances at the notification tab.

“It’s pictures of the night, from Yusuf’s phone. Kamala sent the ones she took across and some videos.”

“That’s nice.” You smile, retrieving your keys, you walk ahead, a part of you doesn’t want to open the door. It had been so nice not fighting and no animosity.

Bucky wonders why the evening passed by in a blur. Though he had been hoping for it to be this way. He didn’t like that the time together was ending.

You open the door, he waits for you to let him inside.

“Come on in, Puffin.” You smile at his grimace, “It means penguin, lose the frown.”

Your chastisement earns you the loss of his frown but no smile.

As he sets down the bag you move to empty it offering him a bottle in exchange. His phone chimes again, he opens the device. More images, then a series of texts from Steve. He frowns.

Steve: Hey, you’re out with Y/N tonight right? Keep an eye on her.

“You really enjoyed those chicken seekhs.” You comment on seeing the box of them.

“They were good.” He doesn’t look up as he speaks.

Steve: I know you might be busy but don’t say anything that results in a fight. Wanda said she’s had a really tough evening.

Bucky replies back to Steve asking what is wrong.

Steve: She got fired, there was some issue at work, a coworker ratted her out for speaking to the client since a few of them suspected the boss to be lying to the client. She was going to fire the entire team but she took the hit on herself.

Bucky: Has she gone crazy?

Steve: a teammate just gave birth, it almost reminds me of you standing up for May to get equal pay at your old job.

Bucky: Steve, the estimate you sent for the trip, how is she? Her rent even? And I did not get fired, I threatened to quit.

The typing bubble appears.

You place the box into the bag to give it to Bucky.

“You can take these, you like them more–,”

“You got fired? Why didn’t you say anything?” He cuts you off.

You purse your lips, “Steve asked you to check in?”

“Sunshine, if you had so much going on we could have avoided going.”

The usage of the nickname in a non teasing context has you pause.

“James, I have savings and I already uploaded my CV to job portals. I was fired, yes, but the boss was looting the client and Christina is a two faced bitch undermining me as team leader and she spoke to Viper before the bloody meeting. I couldn’t stand it. She threatened to fire my entire team and Yelena just joined in and needs to pay for her education, Maria and Natasha just had a baby. I have baking and though it isn’t much I can get by, plus freelancing.”

Bucky just stares at you, “You’re incredibly–,”

His phone rings on the counter, Shaina’s name displays across the screen.

There is a jolt in your chest, it’s around ten, he wasn’t supposed to stay. He looks up at you. You stare at the phone, trying to understand why you feel as if your heart has a crack. None of this is real. None of tonight was real. Not a single thing. Maybe he even lied to Steve about not seeing Shaina.

“You should go.” You sound cold even to yourself.

“Sunshine, I–,”

You push the bag against his chest, his palm holds it there.

“I told you it was okay for you to see other people, we’re just doing this for their parents and now your boss and co-workers. I’m sorry if you have to keep her under wraps, I know you probably want–,”

She calls again, cutting you off.

“I cut it off before that night.” He explains, you shake your head.

“James, I’m no one. You don’t need to explain. I just think I would like to be alone.” You lie, you want nothing more than for someone to be there with you.

His jaw clenches at your words then he nods.

You walk till the door, your hands shake on the door knob. When you shut the door behind him resting your forehead against the wood the sobs you were holding inside bubble over.

Bucky pauses at the sound, hand reaching for your doorbell.

The phone rings again and he cuts the call trying to send the message to Shaina.

He walks to the elevator and down to the car, his movements mechanical. He reads through Steve’s messages.

Steve: And you did quit even though it would be to be set back by a year at Kamal.

Bucky: Shaina called in front of Y/N.

Steve: oh, didn’t you cut it off way before the date that was avoided because of your fiancé strategizing with Y/N?

Bucky: yeah

Steve: how did she respond

Bucky: she said it was okay for me to see her, she apologised for having Shaina to be under the radar, then she said she didn’t need my reasonings because she was a no one.

Steve: I can see where she’s coming from, Beck’s entire relationship, at least what Wanda and I know now… It was pretty ugly.

Bucky: She’s not a ‘no one’.

Steve: Did you tell her that?

Bucky stares at the five words, his or Steve’s he doesn’t know. He’s out of the car, retracing his path to you. Impatiently he waits for the elevator tapping his foot. Pressing your floor several times to have the doors shut. His large strides have him outside your door in no time.

The incessant knocking irritates you. You wipe your eyes and blow your nose before answering.

“Did you forget something, Puffin?” you ask him, he crosses the threshold, shutting the door behind him as you shuffle backward.

“You aren’t a no one, Sunshine.” He tells you, wills you to listen.

“James.” Your throat tightens, his left palm cups your cheek.

“You are not a no one.” Bucky repeats, his right hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands move to his shoulders.

Before you can say anything you feel his lips brushing over yours, you tilt your head. Meeting his lips. The kiss turns greedy, both of you wanting to taste the other. The taste of caramel stays upon his tongue.

Bucky hums into the kiss, when your hand moves to his hair, nails softly scraping over his scalp before tugging him closer. His tongue moves along your bottom lip, you tug on his bottom lip, sucking upon it as he groans against you. Fingers brushing along your neck heading down your body.

He lifts you up, turning so you’re pressed between the wall and him. You preen as you feel him grind against you. You nip at his lips again, the kiss growing more primal. Bucky’s hand moves under your shirt, having you arch against him.

You pull away for air tugging on his lips, his mouth latches to your neck in search of spots that will make him hear your pretty sounds. You whimper as he locates the spot on your neck. He nips at the flesh. Your hands paw at his shirt, trying to unbutton his shirt wanting to feel more of his skin.

“Are you clean?” You whisper, biting on your bottom lip. You didn’t want to ruin anything, but you had to ask.

“Got tested a month ago, clean bill of health.” He answers, looking right into your eyes.

“I’m clean too.” You tell him.

“Never hesitate to ask.” He reminds you, “Or to stop me, or say no.”

You nod, his thumb traces over your kiss bitten lips. Hearing your sigh he gives you those half smirks that you’ve read about. Lips back on yours, hands squeezing your flesh. You whimper into the kiss. Bucky pulls away, wanting to hear you.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds, Sunshine. So fucking gorgeous.” His voice is deep, almost ravenous.

He grinds against you in sync with his stubble brushing over the spot on your sternum. He draws out a moan from you, louder than before. He pulls your top off. Mouth tracing the now exposed top of your breasts.

“Good girl.” His praise has you arch yet again, your hips bucking searching for more friction.

“James,” Your fingers dig into his shoulders, “Need, need more.” you moan yet again as he teases you with another grind of his hardened length against your aching core with his stubble teasing your skin.

“Bucky. You’re going to be screaming Bucky tonight.” He seals his words with a promising kiss.

He lets you unbutton his shirt, your lips on his neck, you feel him growl as your lips ghost below his Adam's apple. Pushing his shirt off your palms trace over his arms. Bucky watches you admire him, he moves a hand one by one to keep you propped up as he gets rid of the shirt.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, meeting his eyes and pulling him in for another kiss. His palm cups your cheek yet again, you lean into his warmth. Into him.

Setting your trembling legs down he sinks to his knees.

A thin ring of blue surrounds his pupils, as he watches you through hooded eyes unbuttoning your jeans and pushing them down your legs, he licks his lips in anticipation looking at your soaked panties.

“Sunshine, are you this eager for me?” He teases, helping you out of your jeans and then the panties. He kisses his way from your calf to your thigh. Your right leg is placed over his shoulder. He bites down on the flesh of your mound, tongue tracing down from the apex to your clit.

You moan as he sucks upon the flesh. His stubble brushing over your folds.

“Fucking divine, Sunshine.” He moans, your fingers tug harshly on his hair.

“Bucky,” Your hips seek his tongue every time he pulls back.

Bucky moves his tongue through your folds, lapping at the arousal he caused, his tongue flicks over your clit, your mind begins to melt into mush. Ever so often he moans, the vibrations drawing sparks along your spine.

Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.

You find yourself being drawn towards the edge.

“I know, Sunshine.”

You look down at him as his fingers tease your entrance, his lips glistening, stubble coated with arousal. His skin flushed. His warm breath fans over your slick folds, he sinks one finger into you. The digit thick as he pumps his finger, Bucky groans as your walls clench around his fingers.

He watches your chest rise and fall with your gasps, he lazily moves his finger, curving over your walls in search of the spot that would make you fall apart. He adds another finger to his thrusts.

“F-fuck! Bucky!” You moan as his fingers brush along your walls. He latches his mouth onto your clit. He continues his thrusts right over the spot that had you cry out angling his fingers that his middle finger grazes over and over.

Your moans grow louder, thighs shaking around his face and your knee flexes further, drawing his body closer. Your scent engulfing him, mind, body and soul being devoured by you as he devours your weeping core.

“Bucky I’m–,” The orgasm hits you breaking off your warning words and coating him in your arousal, Bucky’s responding moan makes you cry out. Teeth nip at your clit making you jolt, his fingers stay buried lazily tapping over that spongy spot.

Drawing aftershocks from you he grins wickedly when his mouth pulls away.

Your eyes fall to half mast when he licks his lips, “Even better than your desserts, Sunshine.”

Your brain melts into a puddle.

“This might just be my favourite.” He licks his fingers clean next, slowly he moves your limb down, supporting your weight. You swallow thickly as the orgasm dies down, skin heating as you take him in as he stands.

Sweat lightly coats his body, a flush spreads across his chest. Your nails have left little indents into his shoulder.

“That was,” Your mind searches for your vocabulary.

He chuckles, the laugh rumbling in his chest, “I know, I feel the same.”

“But I didn’t do anything–,”

“Oh you did plenty with the way you responded.” He assures, pushing a stray strand of your hair back.

“Can, could you sit on the couch, Puffin?” You try to sound not too dazed.

“Why?” He raises a brow.

“Because I want to taste you too.” your hand moves down his chest, over his abdomen the muscles lightly flex under your touch.

“Fuck.” He mutters you undo the button, slowly dragging the zipper down. Your eyes trained upon him. Bucky groans when you palm him.

“Sunshine.” he says breathlessly, you meet his eyes.

You reach up to kiss him, tasting yourself on them. Your hands push at the pants, they fall to the ground Bucky steps out of them. Aimlessly while kissing you walk forwards, having him back towards the couch. He bites down on your lip harshly when you palm him yet again.

Your index finger grazes over the trail of hair under the waistband of his boxers. Bucky groans, your thighs clench at the sound. He helps you in ridding himself of the last bit of clothing. His hands reach to unclasp your bra, discarding it as well.

You take in his length, fingertip tracing the vein to the slight curve, a bead of precum coats him. You lick your lips in anticipation. Just as you shift to kneel, his hands prevent you from doing so, he moves to where his pants are, retrieving them and folding them in half onto your hardwood floors.

Bucky sits on the couch, his cock hitting his abdomen, you move to your knees.

His girth and length both impressive, his hand comes to caress your cheek, “Take what you can.” he whispers softly.

You say nothing, leaning closer, licking a stripe from tip to base and back up. Your palms on his hair covered thighs to support yourself.

Bucky moans when your mouth wraps around him, slowly taking him in halfway then back up, your tongue swiping on his head. You repeat the motion, taking him more and more, till your nose grazes his pelvis, you moan around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He moans, his hips lightly thrust, you whimper, eyes tearing up, “You feel so good.”

You cup his balls, massaging them, his hips buck again, “Y/N, if you keep doing that, I'm not going to last.”

You pull away from him still massaging his balls, squeezing them.

“Who said I want you to last?” Your voice has a rasp and you smirk then take him in all the way, moaning around him. His hand grasps your head. You control the pace but his grip begins to tighten.

You increase your pace, both on his length and your teasing touches turn longer, a little harder. Bucky finds himself climbing towards euphoria, his skin flushed and breaths frantic and when you look up at him. His cock in your mouth he keeps his eyes open, watching you take his seed as he cums in your mouth.

The salty taste has you humming, he grips your head to stop you from moving as he cums but you want to have his orgasm last, so you grab his wrist. Continuing till he hisses and his cock begins to soften before you let go of him.

“That was…” Bucky breathes hard, eyes sparkling anew.

“I know, I feel the same.” You smile at him.

Bucky reaches over to your side table grabbing the water bottles you keep there. He opens one and gives it to you after he has you sit up on the couch. He then opens one for himself, chugging it in half.

He contemplates before speaking, “I hope you aren’t expecting more, I didn’t exactly carry protection.”

“I don’t have any on me either, I think it’s okay.” You shrug, he nods.

“Good.” he clears his throat looking back at the bottle.

“I know this probably doesn’t mean anything.” You tell him, he looks up at you quizzically, you continue, “It's fine if it's a one off, I don’t expect anything from you, Puffin.”

“What if I don’t want it to be a one off?” He says, you stare at him.

“Are you proposing a fake fiancé with benefits?” You ask, he nods.

“Can I take the remainder of the weekend to think about it?” You request.

“Ofcourse, if you need longer that too.” He assures, standing up and retrieving his boxers. He hands you your discarded clothes as well.

On opposite sides of the room you put your clothes back on. He watches you turn to face him.

“Text me once you get home?” You request he nods.

You walk him to the door once again.

“I meant what I said, you are not a no one.” He repeats at the threshold.

“Puffin.” You say in warning.

“Sunshine.” He matches your tone.

“I’ll text you.” He breaks the gaze lock you both were in, this time you watch him enter the elevator and head down before closing and locking your door.

AN: ooooh 12k words and i loved each of them, i know it probably got super long in the middle but i just had so much fun exploring the khan family dynamic and giving the reader a happy family memory. also mr barnes how can you say “Bucky. You’re going to be screaming Bucky tonight.” and not expect us to scream into the void? let me know what you all thought!! thank you for reading!!!!!

tagging: @slutforsexyseabass @elle14-blog1 @sxnshinebxcky @sebsgirl71479 @pandaxnienke @stevesmewmew @tfandtws @povlvr @tanyaspartak @maggiejackson3 @brodymarx @ladylee76 @buckymcbuckbarnes @stickyjudgeturtleghost (strikedthrough if unable to be tagged)

taglist open!!

128 notes · View notes

writertitan · 2 years

Text

Confinements - Pt. 3

pairing: soldier!levi x f!medic!reader

themes: war themes + war crimes, enemies to lovers, mature and heavy content (minors dni), medic!reader, reader is a tough cookie due to wartimes, levi is a prisoner of war, reader and levi are snarky lil fellas, afab reader, swearing, heavy themes regarding acts of war, mentions of death, dark content, finding warmth in each other during cruel and cold-blooded times, unconditioning of propaganda, slight mentions of torture tactics/aggressive interrogations, reader finally breaking out of survival mode in this chap

chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 updated weekly chapter word count: 3.2k a/n: hello sweet cherubs and welcome to pt. 3! if you haven’t read the first two parts, they are linked above in the chapters section. have a wonderful start to the week, and please enjoy. :)

It was another two days before you saw Captain Levi again.

A new hoard of wounded soldiers had been brought in and many needed complex surgery, to which you assisted. Even in the thick of the hardest one, your mind kept pulling you away to a certain captain hidden away beneath your feet, which was dangerous. You could never lose focus, not even for a moment, during such difficult medical procedures.

There were rumors going around that the enemy was planning a blitz attack, though you were a little amused that they could even call it a blitz if people suspected it was coming. Because of that, however, the general was ordering for more ruthless attacks from some squads, resulting in many more casualties than your team could take on.

But, as always, you made do and powered through, and in those two days you accomplished nearly all of the most serious cases that were brought to you.

You were exhausted, to say the least, and all you wanted was to slump into your comfy chair at your dwelling and fall asleep listening to the pitter-patter of rain outside, maybe a crackling fire going in the fireplace. Once you’d gotten cleaned up from your final surgery, that was the plan, but of course, Dr. Muller had other plans.

He was waiting for you outside the women’s washroom, his face apologetic - an expression you’d gotten used to from him as of recently.

“What is it?” you asked, suddenly a little more alert and a little less lethargic. “Did more come in?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. Then, he lowered his voice to a whisper, making sure nobody else could hear though it was basically only the two of you. “I need you to go check on the captain. Just a quick visit, then you’re free to take off. I won’t call you in for the next couple of days unless it’s urgent. We need the rest.”

At the mention of the captain, you felt yourself grow groggy again. Still, it was an improvement that you weren’t feeling totally annoyed, and you nodded along to the doctor’s request with a small sigh and a wave of your own hand.

“Sure, I’ll do it now,” you muttered, then waited for the doctor to disappear out of sight before sliding down the wall and resting your head back against it.

The night of the “bath incident” - as you liked to call it - had brought forth a lot of unusual feelings and behaviors from you. While it was true that you’d fetched some clean clothes for the captain and that had been out of the norm for you, you’d also mentally made a promise to yourself to remember to bring him some decent food as well.

There was really no logic to this sudden change of yours. Since when did you care so much about a patient, much less a prisoner of war that didn’t seem to be keen on you?

You tried to get your bearings sitting on the floor like that for a solid minute before eventually groaning and standing up, doing your best to ignore the full body aches as you snuck your way into the kitchen.

It was evening and supper had already been served out, so most of the staff were busy cleaning up. One of them, a young girl named Vel, noticed you come in. If anyone else did, they didn’t show it.

She greeted you meekly, her big, round eyes trained on you as you stopped in your tracks.

“Need something to eat?” she asked, tilting her head. “I heard about the work you and Dr. Muller have been doing these past couple of days. Doesn’t sound like you’ve been able to take a break at all, or even eat. Wait right there.”

Though she had made a demand of you to wait, the demand, like Vel herself, was very meek. Still, you did as you were told, grateful for her generosity and for her exceptional observation. You could definitely sneak off with the food and give it to Captain Levi instead, and it wouldn’t look suspicious at all.

Vel took her time filling up a tray for you but you didn’t mind the few minutes to yourself.

“Here,” she whispered, offering up the small tray.

Steamed vegetables, hot porridge, and buttered bread greeted you from the tray, alongside a small jug of water. It normally wouldn’t look like much for the average person, but for a person entrenched in war, it was a king’s feast. More importantly, none of the food was rotten or moldy.

Relief and gratitude poured out of you and the quiet, “Thank you,” that you managed to get out dripped with the emotions and made Vel smile a little.

“Eat up,” she instructed, then was off again to get back to whatever she’d been doing before.

You hurried off and waited until the coast was clear before sneaking into the cellar, making the now familiar trek to the room Captain Levi occupied.

You couldn’t lie and say that the food in front of you didn’t make your mouth water. Vel had guessed correctly - it had been days since you had had a real meal. The last thing you could remember eating was a handful of stale raisins aside from your mandatory hydration times during operations. Still, you did your best to ignore the food, wanting to save it for the captain, who no doubt hadn’t had real food for a very long time. Much longer than a measly two days.

When you entered his room, it was eerily quiet. He lay there, motionless but rigid, clearly in pain. You briefly noted that he was no longer wearing his grimy uniform and had donned the clean clothes you’d left for him. However, he barely acknowledged that you’d come in, didn’t even open his eyes, and only did when you called to him.

“Captain Levi?”

His eyes snapped open and he turned his head to look at you, and then his gaze focused on the tray you held, grey eyes showcasing a hunger you’d never seen from him before. The black bruises that had adorned his eyes were nearly completely gone, replaced with dark circles due to restlessness.

“I noticed last time I was here you weren’t being properly fed,” you explained, trying your very best not to stutter through your words. “I thought I’d bring you some actual food for once.”

You made your way over to his bed and watched him wince as he sat up, but he at least looked eager for food. You set the tray down closer to him on the bed, a silent gesture for him to help himself.

“Who brings your meals normally?” you asked him as he tore into the buttered bread. You couldn’t imagine that it would be anyone in the kitchen staff. With how much of a secret the captain’s capture was, you doubted the general was allowing anyone except a select few to come through here.

Captain Levi didn’t answer for a few moments, more focused on devouring the bread, but eventually he found his voice.

“That stupidly annoying nurse slides a tray of food in here once a day. Food, if you can even call it that,” he scoffed. Then, as if it was nothing, he added, “She hasn’t been here for two days.”

That made you freeze.

So, not only was he only being fed barely edible food only once a day, but he also hadn’t even been fed at all the past two days.

“That’s unacceptable,” you choked out, in mild disbelief. Yes, Nurse Gatha had been quite busy herself with all the incoming soldiers, but that was no excuse. She wasn’t in the high trauma group and you knew for a fact she’d had plenty of breaks, unlike your group. “I’m so sorry, Captain Levi. We’ve all been running around the past couple of days due to an influx of patients, but she should have made the time to come down here.”

A fleeting reminder that that influx was due to the captain’s own soldiers attacking yours flitted through your head, but you quickly shook it away. He’d had nothing to do with it, so it would be unfair to blame him.

“She’s annoying anyway. I hate that she’s even around me for any amount of time at all. I’d rather starve,” he said, voice dull. Then, in a much quieter and calmer voice, he continued with, “I’d much rather have you do it. You’re much less irritating.”

The admission left you stunned.

Captain Levi shifted uncomfortably, his eyes pointedly avoiding yours as he said, “And thank you for the clean clothes. Even though they’re colors I’d rather not wear.”

It clearly made him uncomfortable to express gratitude, or any sort of emotion at all, but you were secretly pleased that he would bear it just to tell you something so simple.

“You’re welcome,” you said with a smile.

It was then that your body betrayed you and a grumble sounded from your stomach. Instantly, you felt your face grow hot. It was loud enough for Captain Levi to hear it as well, which was mortifying.

“You said it’s been busy the past couple of days. Have you eaten?” he asked. He looked genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” you said dismissively, your gaze avoiding his. In truth, you were definitely hungry, but that was something you could rectify later on when you were in the privacy of your little living space.

Still, Captain Levi scoffed and pushed the tray back towards you.

“Don’t let yourself starve,” he said gruffly. “Isn’t that medically frowned upon, Doc?”

You rolled your eyes, about to retort, but the captain wouldn’t let you and handed over the bowl of steamed vegetables. The smell was truly delicious, especially for someone who hadn’t eaten, but you still couldn’t bear the thought of sharing even a morsel.

“I’ve had something to eat. You haven’t,” you said firmly, pushing it back to him. He didn’t have to know that your “something to eat” had hardly counted as real food.

Captain Levi looked ready to keep fighting you on this but when his stomach growled, the argument was over. He begrudgingly grabbed a fork and ate up the vegetables, though he seemed to genuinely be grateful.

It was strange to see him sitting there, wearing your country’s uniform as if he were one of your own soldiers. He could have maybe passed for one, but you doubted it. There was something about his demeanor and the way he presented himself that gave him away. He didn’t belong in a place like this. He was resolute, confident, a little blunt, and just different from the other men here. No, he didn’t didn’t belong here.

Did you, though?

“How are your pain levels? Anything in particular I should look at today?” you asked, letting him swallow before answering.

“Ribs are still bothering me but that’s it. Everything else is bearable. Should be able to release me any day now, Doc.” The last part was said a little condescendingly. You definitely felt yourself bristle.

“I’m not a doctor and I’ve never appreciated that nickname,” you huffed, turning back to the kit you’d almost forgotten about. You’d taken to leaving it in the cellar these days, tucked away, and had hauled it in while carefully balancing the tray with one hand.

“You’ve never told me your real name, so I don’t have anything else to call you,” Captain Levi pointed out.

That surprised you. Had you really never told him your name?

You blurted it out as a very belated introduction, a little embarrassed that you’d never done it the other times you’d come to tend to him, but Captain Levi didn’t seem too miffed.

“I think I’ll still call you Doc, but it’s nice to meet you,” he said, then added, with a smirk twitching at his lips, “I’m Levi.”

“Nice to meet, Captain Levi,” you snorted, but then you grew quiet when the captain shook his head and gave you a look you couldn’t quite discern.

“Just Levi is fine.”

“Okay,” you whispered, “Levi.”

Some sort of wall between the two of you broke then. When getting rid of titles like that, a wall always tends to break between two people. There was less formality and more camaraderie. Maybe even friendship.

You let Levi finish eating before getting to work. He unbuttoned his shirt and let you inspect his aching ribs, and that’s when you realized that he’d gotten thinner. He seemed naturally slim but when you’d first seen him he was sturdy and clearly held a lot of strength. Looking at him now, you could see he was weakening. Some ribs even slightly poked through his bruised skin. Something heavy stirred in your chest at the sight.

Still, despite his complaints of pain, you were sure everything was healing nicely. The bruising on his chest concerned you, because they didn’t look as faded as you wanted them to, but rib injuries were tough to heal if the patient wasn’t careful. The bruise you’d been worried about on his abdomen seemed to be fading the way you expected, though, alleviating your concerns of something internal at play. The ankle was no longer swollen, just tender per Levi’s assessment, so you were confident that just a little more food and some proper rest would get him healing faster.

As you worked to put a salve on his ankle, you were so concentrated on that that his voice startled you.

“Why did you choose to become a medic?” he asked suddenly.

The question came as a surprise. You didn’t even really know how to answer it. For a moment, you thought hard on the story you were willing to tell.

“The medical field has always interested me,” you started hesitantly, unsure of how much you should divulge. But then, when you saw those genuinely curious steel-colored eyes, you continued, voice a little softer. “I had a brother who enlisted as a soldier and he died. When we were told of his death, the captain of his squad alluded to my brother being unsalvageable. I don’t know why that hit me so hard. I hate the thought of me, as a medic, not doing everything in my power to save someone’s life. I already had a bit of experience and enlisted as a volunteer and here I am. Once I learned the circumstances of my brother’s death rather than getting a polite and vague answer on my doorstep, I was a little more understanding - he was apparently blown to bits and all. But it still bothers me to think he was left out to die. If someone like me had been around to try and help, maybe he would be back home.”

Levi’s face was uncharacteristically soft as you finished speaking.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” he said finally, and you shrugged it off. It was during times of recalling your brother that you could feel the cracks in your icy exterior, and the cracks in your heart.

You gave Levi a small smile, noticing a look akin to that of confusion as you placed bandages over his ankle, mostly to let the salve stay and absorb into his skin better. Even so, you didn’t probe him.

After finishing up with this ankle, you moved to the part that would be more uncomfortable for Levi - his ribs.

You had some numbing cream handy that you felt might work to relieve some of his discomfort. Taking it from your medical kit, you dabbed your fingertips with it and began gingerly rubbing it onto his chest and sides. You could feel him wince under your touch.

“You should be more careful,” you quietly scolded. “I don’t know what you’re doing in here when I’m not around, but it’s certainly not helping your healing process. These ribs are taking longer than I’d like to heal.”

Levi scoffed then, his entire body rigid suddenly.

“Tell that to your scumbag general,” he snapped, eyes hard as he looked at you. “He’s the one throwing me around.”

It was as if someone had dumped ice cold water on your body.

“The general is…being violent with you?” you asked, throat dry as the question left your mouth.

Levi seemed surprised at your reaction.

“Yes? During his interrogations.” He spoke slowly, a bit confused, but your initial shock was giving way to extreme anger.

You had no idea. Sure, you were vaguely aware and understanding that with being a prisoner of war came the expectation of interrogations for information, but for some reason, you hadn’t expected to hear this from Levi. Was he being tortured for information? Was the general’s tactic to rough him up and beat the information out of him?

All the other comments from Levi were weighing on you again. The fact that he was being treated like a feral animal was glaringly obvious all of a sudden. And that sinking feeling that something wasn’t right hadn’t wavered these last few days.

Day by day, you’d started to accept your belief that this war was…odd. That your country was somehow not doing things right. That you were being lied to.

“I didn’t know that you were being…,” you trailed off, unsure of what to even say.

“Doc…how did you say your brother died again?”

The question seemed out of place but you answered anyway.

“Some of your soldiers managed to get onto our territory and my brother and his squad caught them. This happened at a front line encampment that used to exist a few miles from here. Your soldiers planted landmines and threw grenades at my brother and his squad in order to herd them to the mines. They fell for it and got caught up in all the blasts. There were just…pieces of him left,” you said absently. You weren’t looking at Levi, but more like looking through him.

Levi scowled at your answer, looking troubled. It was silent between you as he clearly was trying to put together what to say. When he did, you felt that icy wave wash over you once more.

“We don’t do blitz strikes like that. And we don’t really use landmines. That’s a resource that your country has, not us.”

He looked like he had more to say, but it was obvious that you were slowly breaking down. That coldness inside you, that emptiness, that disconnect you’d built up…it was all suddenly fragile and about to tumble down. Levi had, somehow, in such a short span of time, shown you how you’d basically been sleepwalking through your life these last few years. Levi had blitzed you, made you step on some sort of mental landmine you’d been sidestepping all this time. Things were blowing up in front of you, metaphorically speaking.

“What are you trying to say?” you asked, tears pricking at your eyes. When was the last time you’d cried, or had even come close to it?

“There’s a lot you don’t know. I don’t know if you’ll believe me,” Levi sighed.

But you already knew you would believe him, and you had an inkling of what he was about to say. He was about to prove your suspicions correct.

A heavy silence fell over you but it didn’t last long. As you stared at each other, you with desperate and wild eyes and Levi with solemn and knowing ones, the bomb sirens started wailing.

____________________________

read pt. 4 here

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #Levi fic #Levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #Levi x You #levi x y/n #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction

125 notes · View notes

joongalez · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1 - Storyline 1

[masterlist] 09/10/20xx 11:10am

Yunho sits at his desk in the police station, his computer open to a research document that is completely empty. He has dozens of tabs pulled up from varying news sites, along with official emails from the Chief of Police regarding Yunho's next task: find the missing people.

It's more than just a difficult task. It's proving to be almost impossible. There are already three missing people and the first one went missing less than three weeks ago. Yunho has been hoping the three people will just turn up with an apology and at least a mediocre excuse for where they were, then all of this will just blow over. Yunho never expected the little town of Insuetis to have crimes other than shoplifting, destruction of property, or the occasional break-in. It's just not like Insuetis to have missing people. At least, not in Yunho's time.

There's another email from the police chief. Yunho opens it to find a new task laid out for him: set up a search party.

"Search party?" His partner who sits at the desk across from him, Mingi, sighs at the new email. "I guess it's that time, isn't it?"

Yunho nods, clicking out of the email and leaning back in his chair, a painful pulse beginning to pound against the base of his skull. These three cases have been giving him headaches for the past few weeks.

"Maybe we'll actually find something," Mingi offers. "It's not like we've been given much hope these past couple weeks."

"You're right." Yunho rubs at the base of his skull, closing his eyes against the bright lights of the police station. "We need this. The community needs this. Let's gather some people and start searching. You got anyone in mind?"

"A few people," Mingi admits. "Although, not sure if they'll all say yes. I know a couple are at work right now. What about you? You thinking of anyone that could help us out?"

"Yeah," Yunho says, mulling over his options. There's Jongho, the investigative journalist at the paper that interviewed him the other day. Or there's Hongjoong, a friend who would be willing to help with almost anything.

"Well, you better decide," Mingi says, standing up and grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. "Boss wants us out right now. I'm going to gather some people, meet me on the north side of town. We'll start our search at the base of the woods."

Yunho nods as Mingi leaves. Who should he choose to help?

9 notes · View notes

violenthunted · 9 months

Text

years of profiling have not made him less clueless. morgan finds it immensely amusing, and always finds new ways to test reid’s inability to grasp at clues until it is too late to escape certain situations. if only morgan seems interested in overplaying the comedic aspect of such a flaw, it is common knowledge all the same. every member of the team raises an amused eyebrow when a question escapes spencer’s mouth, one he should apparently know the answer to. perhaps there is something truly amusing about the resident genius and his lack of knowledge regarding normal human customs.

therefore when juno, his girlfriend, leads him straight to what resembles a closet, he assumes it is because she is worried about something and requires some sort of secrecy in order to get it off her chest. he assumes that she wishes to discuss the case, or perhaps admonish him for his choice of tie. really, all the available options look more of the same: wanting to talk, not knowing where to do it. it seems like a plausible explanation, for they are still in the early stages of their relationship, which is to say that there are times when they both hesitate on where to stand and what to say. they’ve been trying to keep it a secret, you see, while not jeopardizing their relationship at the same time.

so when juno demands that he follows, he sees no other choice but to agree and walk into her steps with the blind devotion that he only now recognizes for what it is (love). but it is not for talking that she led him away from wandering eyes. in fact, talking is not at all her goal : "i don't care if someone sees us. i need you, now." she stands close, lips glued on his neck, fingers trying to find their way under his clothes. "this is highly unprofessional", he answers immediately, hands up in the same fashion as he would if he were lit up by the headlights of a cop's car. nothing to see here, officer! however juno is ruthless & relentless, and he is not completely unbothered by her attention. how difficult to fight something you wish you could surrender to.

"if someone were to walk on us... they could file a complaint... for... for sexual misconduct... and..." his voice trails off, for whatever he had meant to say disappears directly into juno's mouth, soon followed by a sigh of relief. of course he kisses her back. of course he appears soothed by the soft press of her lips on his. of course his hands cup her face in the gentlest way imaginable, holding her as he did that first night : a treasure he fears will dissipate like sand between open fingers. it does not matter how many times they have kissed, how many days & nights they have spent mapping out each other's bodies. it does not matter that he could draw her from memory and that he can list every mole and mark on her body with perfect precision. it does not matter, for spencer is always absurdly in awe of the privilege he is given. whenever she kisses him there is this short moment of utter disbelief, this one second of pure unadulterated joy to find that she still wants him, that it was not a cruel dream, that she is his to touch and to love and to kiss and to laugh with and to…

perhaps he is getting a bit lost in the kisses. perhaps it takes a kiss, two, maybe three or five or more, each stealing a bit more of his resolve, until finally a resounding, breathy "fuck it" can be heard as his own hands join juno's dance, dipping under her shirt to settle on the small of her back, slipping even further under her belt. he applies pressure there, enough so that nothing of this world could fit between them. "you have my attention.” @suarcz

#suarcz #spencer reid.#writings.#hi :) sunday gift

4 notes · View notes

wearywinchester · 3 years

Text

Back To You

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When putting yourself in danger for the sake of saving Dean leaves you lost in the woods, Dean is less than thrilled until he finally finds you again.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, mentions of blood, swearing, comfort, fluff

Dean was livid in that moment, and rightfully so. Any and every hunt has the potential to be dangerous no matter what it is, no matter how many times you’ve hunted that very same kind of monster. Each and every hunt is different and someone is always bound to get hurt, whether it be the hunter or the person you’re there to save.

That idea was something he could handle, something he could prepare himself for. But he was never ready when that person was you.

You’d gone and done it this time. You went and spiked his worry, his fear, sent it sky high all for the sake of saving him. To him, nothing was worth losing you, especially not himself. The fact that he was worth enough to someone to risk their own life just to keep him safe was laughable to him, especially when it was you who held him in such a high regard.

Of course you did. He didn’t give himself enough credit, he didn’t give himself any credit at all. There was no one who hated Dean Winchester more than he did himself, and that very feeling was something that boiled over that hunt.

Two werewolves. Three hunters against two werewolves seemed like something you could handle. Take that and add it to the fact that you’re in the woods in late fall and it becomes more difficult. Somehow, some way they got the upper hand on the three of you, targeting Dean. Maybe they knew he was a sweet spot to the two of you, maybe it was just dumb luck, but their efforts seemed to work out for them.

There was no way you’d let them do anything to Dean, not if you were there to do something about it and that’s exactly what you did. Against Dean’s wishes you shoved him out of the way before they could, the swipe of her claws grazing across your cheek instead of his. It wasn’t as deep as it probably would have been, but it stung nevertheless. But that was only the very start of Dean’s nightmare, because you’d gone and lured her away before he could stop you.

He knew you. He knew you were strong and he knew you could hold your own, but this isn’t some run of the mill vampire or a phony spirit. It was a werewolf with more than enough of an appetite and twice the strength.

Now here you were, stranded in the woods all by yourself with a dull and bloodied silver blade and a limp in your stride, your ankle strained from tripping in the midst of your fight with fangs and claws. You held your own, you took care of her yourself with more than enough of a struggle on her end. But you had no idea where you were and which direction was the right one, no clue at all just how far you were from Sam and Dean. You didn’t know if that other werewolf got away and came to finish you off.

All you had was yourself and a dead phone, and your own two fists.

It was getting darker out, the cold fall day turning colder now that nightfall was just around the corner. The drizzling rain didn’t help your cause, muddying the path you tried to follow as you navigated through tall trees and fallen leaves. They crunched every time you took a step, the sound near deafening in contrast to the quiet of the woods.

You were too afraid to call out for Dean, didn’t want to draw attention to yourself should it still be lurking. You were an easy target at this point—you were tired and you were weak.

Of all the hunts you’d been on, you can’t remember feeling quite so bad as this one. The scratches on your face burned and ached, the dirt that was surely smeared across it doing nothing to help as you tried your hardest not to touch your cheek. Your ankle throbbed with every step, the pressure placed upon it nearly pushing you to tears as you walked along as quickly as you could, hoping more than anything that you weren’t leading yourself further away from them, further away from Dean.

You knew he’d be mad, you knew he’d be absolutely livid when he finds you. If he finds you. That very thought weighed heavy on your mind and made your stomach twist in knots and swirl with nausea. There was a very real possibility that they wouldn’t, your battery was dead and it was getting all the more dark outside and you knew what your chances were but you tried not to think about it. You tried but it stayed in the back of your mind and tried desperately to push to the front of it.

He’d be pissed, he would and you knew it because putting your own life on the line for the sake of saving his was never something he’d want you of all people to do. You wouldn’t be surprised if he asked you to stop hunting with them, and the thought alone made a pang run through your heart.

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought, brows furrowed as you took a deep breath. You’d hunted a myriad of different monsters, more than you can count and certainly a terrifying array of them. They were deadly and they were scary, they were dangerous and they were cruel but you couldn’t help the fear that settled within you now the sky was nearly completely dark. The lack of moonlight had worked against you, nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead of you amongst dozens and dozens of trees. Every gust of wind, every noise, everything.

You were scared.

You didn’t dare use your flashlight, too scared to cast attention upon yourself and you found it impossible for anything out there to not be able to spot you. You felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb with the way you heard your heartbeat in your ears louder than ever. Or the way your breaths were shaky and labored and unable to be controlled.

The rain that drizzled a little heavier over you was beginning to seep through your clothes, chilling any exposed skin and wetting your hair almost completely by this point. You were sure it’d be worse if there weren’t any trees, but then again you didn’t get so lucky.

You couldn’t help but remind yourself how utterly on your own you were, body stiff as you walked along in the mud. The mere sound of a stick snapping in the near distance had you on edge, tears welling in your eyes as you weighed over the options of your fate in your mind in a taunting loop of negativity and fear.

Your lip quivered and your hands shook, clutching tight to your bag as you looked all around you. Tears mixed with rain to the point where you couldn’t even tell if you’d been crying real tears if it weren’t for the pressure behind your eyes and the ache you felt from trying to suppress them. You weren’t going to bother trying to act tough in that moment, there was no need when it was just you.

It wasn’t until then that you heard that voice, the gruffness of that ever familiar voice in an echo of your name. Your heart flipped in your chest and at first you thought you might have just imagined it, might have just thought you heard it amongst the rain, but it sounds again.

“Dean?” You said softly, disbelief in your voice before you raised it. “Dean!”

You picked up your pace in his direction, glancing over your shoulder cautiously. The tears rolled faster and your heart rate spiked, that fear in your mind lessening a fraction at the sound of his voice even if it was still not as close as you’d like.

You overlooked the pain in your ankle no matter how much it hurt, too distracted with finding your way back to Sam and Dean. The sooner you found them the sooner you could get out of those woods, and the sooner you could get cleaned up in a place much kinder on the eyes than tree after tree in a rain-dampened and dark area.

It felt like something straight out of a movie and you were waiting for the antagonist to pop out in front of you, waiting to be preyed upon by some big scary monster and you knew that wasn’t so far out of the question for you. Not with the life you had.

The distinct sound of sticks snapping and leaves crunching behind you was unmissable, unmistakable as you tensed. You swallowed thickly at the slosh of the footfalls behind you, heart hammering nearly too loud to hear anything else. It wasn’t until you felt a hand grab your elbow that you screamed once more, expecting to hear Dean call out from farther away at the sound of it. You screamed and you turned around, eyes wide with fear.

“Sweetheart, it’s me. It’s Dean,” he rushed, voice calmer than you expected.

It took you a moment for you to realize, for your eyes to bounce over his face and for the fear to settle and your frown was inevitable as you fought your tears.

In a matter of seconds you wrapped your arms around him, face hidden against his chest and you didn’t care how much it hurt the scratches adorning your cheek. That tension you held loosened considerably in his embrace, and it’s something he didn’t fail to notice. You missed the way his brows furrowed as his chin rested atop your head or the purse in his lips, the way he squeezed his eyes shut or the look of relief he gave Sam with traces of worry and anger within it.

He found you now, and you were safe.

You were quiet as you stood at the small bathroom counter, leaned over the edge a little as you cleaned around the scratches on your cheek. You were proving to do an awful job and you could see it by the look on Dean’s face when he walked in the bathroom. He could see the way you winced even from where he stood by the bed of the motel room, he saw it and he knew you hated doing it.

“C’mon,” he said, patting the counter a couple times.

“I got it, Dean,” you say softly, the sharp gasp you take in immediately after doing nothing to help you.

You sigh as you drop the dampened cotton ball in his palm, hopping up on the counter. You saw the dimples by the corners of his mouth and you saw the crease between his brows, telling of just how discontent he truly was and it had you biting the inside of your other cheek.

He was quick to clean it up with a light hand, careful not to hurt you as his other hand settled on your cheek to hold you still. You could feel the tension in the small room, could cut it with a knife, and it wasn’t going to go away any time soon so long as none of you said anything.

You tried to think about the way his breath fanned over your face instead, soft and warm in the pattern of his breathing as he cleaned you up with all the gentleness in the world. Gentle and tender despite the frustration simmering in the pit of his stomach, threatening to spill.

Actually, it did.

“We gonna talk about what happened today?” He asked, voice quiet and tone angry as his brow raised a fraction.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, averting your gaze as you turned your head, only for him to redirect it back as he finished what he was doing.

“‘Course not,” he said, breathing out a huff through his nose.

You roll your eyes and hop down from the counter, hearing his sigh as he tossed the dirtied cotton ball in the trash along with the others you’d gone through, his lips pressing together momentarily as he followed behind you into the room.

You still weren’t over it, you were still shaken despite this being your own fault. It was your fault and you knew that, you were the one playing hero and while you didn’t regret it for a second, you were still on the verge of tears. You were still cold and upset and still reaping the consequences of your decision by the pain on your face and in your ankle.

“Yeah, ‘course not,” you say, tightening his flannel around your shoulders before digging around in your duffel bag.

It didn’t last very long as he grabbed your hand and spun you around to face him, his displeasure more than evident.

“Please don’t try and save me, sweetheart, I’m not—”

“What, you’re not worth it?” You say, watching his lips purse deeper. “You might think that about yourself but I never will, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“You nearly died, Y/n. Do you understand that?” He says, voice a little louder now. “You almost died out there all by yourself. How the hell am I supposed to live with that? How easy do you think it’d be for me to go on every damn day knowing you died just to save my ass?”

You were quiet for a moment as you looked up at him, brows knitted together. “Well, I’m not dead, Dean. So I guess you don’t have to.”

He scoffed as he threw his hands up, letting one fall back to his side as the other pinches the bridge of his freckled nose for a moment or two. He hates how you’re brushing this off, hates how you don’t know just how much of a wreck he was. Sam had never seen his brother so distraught, had never seen him so turned upside down the moment you were lost. It tore him to shreds, tore him apart from the inside out until he found you and that feeling still won’t stop. It won’t stop because he knows this won’t be the last time you do it.

“I’m not worth it, alright? I’m not worth layin’ six feet under, sweetheart. And not by the hands of some freakin’ werewolf either,” he says, frustrated as ever.

Your brows furrow deeper, frown tugs down deeper as you look at him.

“You think you’re the only one that gets to protect people? You think you’re the only one that gets to save someone? Is that what you think, Dean?”

“Y/n—”

“You might not give a damn about yourself, in fact, I know you don’t give a crap,” you say, your finger poking into his chest. “But I do. I care.”

You hated the way your voice faltered and the way your lip wobbled under the pressure of your tears, hated the way those very tears glossed over your eyes, ready to fall with a mere blink. He saw it, he saw it all and he pulled you close before you could crumble completely.

His hand ran over your head, hair still rain dampened and he could feel just how cold you still were. He could feel the way you shook, no matter how faint it was. You could act tough all you want, but he knew you were hurting and he knew when to shut up. You were stronger than he’d ever be, that’s how he always saw you and always will. But you fall apart sometimes and he’ll pick up the pieces without hesitation every single time. Every time.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m still here,” he murmured, words soft against your skin as he kissed your forehead.

You nod against him then, sniffling softly. You take a little while for your tears to die down, a little while of the soft sways of his embrace and it’s one that’s near bone crushing, of the way his thumb brushed back and forth against your shoulder blade, or the way his stubble felt brushing against your forehead.

It took a little while until you pulled back a bit, looking up at him with that look that turns his heart to mush every single time you give it. He sees those scratches on your face and he’s biting his tongue, fighting the anger that’s beginning to bubble up once more. Not at you, but at that werewolf that was two seconds from tearing his sweetheart to shreds. The thought made him furious but he pushed it down for your sake.

You lean on your toes and kiss him softly, one that lingered as his hand settled on your cheek. He kissed you once, twice, three times more as his nose bumps against your own, foreheads pressed against one another as your hand presses lightly around the back of his neck, your thumb brushing along his jaw. It set him at ease, you know it did.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere either,” you murmur, feeling his nod against you, felt his hum against your lips before he kisses you again. You knew he wouldn’t let it go that easily, knew it for a fact, but he’d bring it up some other day.

He’d always find you, you could count on it—he’d always find his way back to you.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

#dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction

407 notes · View notes

salemwritesxx · 3 years

Text

𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼.

𝔹 𝕒 𝕜 𝕦 𝕘 𝕠 𝕦 𝕂 𝕒 𝕥 𝕤 𝕦 𝕜 𝕚

⇴ male reader [24, pro-hero, alpha, quirk: ice-phoenix] ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ summary: Bakugou and [Your.name] were dating, about to get married. Though one morning, everything that was dear to [Your.name] was brutally ripped away when he found a letter from his fiancé. Katsuki was gone, no traces left behind. And now, after three years [Your.name] was suddenly confronted with the reason when he meets his ex-fiancé again in a small town in Hokkaido.

↣ rating: mature ↣ warnings: abo universe, male pregnancy, bonding (biting for the bond mark to appear), drama / angst that turns into a happy end though; angst ending version read here.

AN: This was inspired by @amgjiks ’ request they sent in a few months ago! posting this story under your original request feels kinda “wrong” since I’d be ignoring half of what you requested basically so imma keep the original for when inspiration kicks in, in the future :)

part 2.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Walking along the streets, you didn’t have a destination in mind. Just walking around and letting fresh air clear your fogged up brain. You had been overthinking – again. It was one of those days were you couldn’t help but think back to three years ago. Tomorrow three years ago would have been the date were you and Katsuki would have said “Yes”, but alas… it all came differently.

Running your hand through your hair, you sighed deeply.

“I need to stop thinking about this. It’s been so long! Like this, I will never be able to forget him.”

But how were you supposed to forget the love of your life? Especially when it all came so quickly and out of nowhere? One day everything was fine, the next, he was gone. And as much as you tried to find him, despite him stating in the letter you shouldn’t try, it was all in vain anyways. It’s as if Bakugou Katsuki had never existed. Even his parents, that were always very much in love with you as their son-in-law, completely ignored you and cut you off.

It was such a deep cut, even time wasn’t able to heal anything. The last three years were rough. Sleepless nights were a normal thing by now. And while media praised you for working so hard on your hero career, you just pushed yourself like that so you wouldn’t need to think about the past. Because when you were working, it all just faded away.

However, after collapsing one day, the agency forced you to take time off and so you landed in Hokkaido. Far away from the bustling streets of Tokyo, your gloomy small apartment and your work place. With nothing to do, you found yourself overthinking day and night. If you just could ask him one question.

Why?

Putting on his scent-blocking collar, Bakugou suddenly felt a little tugging on his t-shirt, hence he looked down. [Eye.color], big eyes stared at him and the toothy smile immediately had him smiling as well.

“Are you ready to go outside, Hiroto?”, he asked his son who looked so much like you, reminding him every day what he had done.

“MH! Can I bring Popo?”, Hiroto’s big eyes sparkled a little, making it very difficult for Katsuki to say no, hence he nodded a little.

Watching his son, it only took a few moments before he came back with his stuffed animal, it was a phoenix. Rather, it was your merchandise. It… was complicated.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeess!”

And so, Katsuki locked the door behind him, leaving to go for a walk around the block and a quick park visit.

Leaning against a bridge, you stared down, still pondering. If you had just acted differently, maybe you could have saved your relationship. Whatever it was you had done, it pushed him away from you and it was eating you inside to not know what the reason was.

You didn’t know how many hours you had been wandering around town, trying to stop thinking, but as always, you only thought harder the less you had to do. Hence why you decided to go back to the inn you were staying at.

After hours outside, Hiroto was tired, his plushy Popo hugged tightly against his chest as he silently walked besides Bakugou along the streets. One more time, Katsuki tried to pick his son up, “Hiro? Want me to carry you home? Aren’t you tired?”

“NHN!”, he shook his head, “Daddy is never tired when he fights the bad guys! So I am also not tired.”

Hiroto was stubborn as he kept walking besides Bakugou who was just sighing a little. It was his own fault, but he couldn’t lie to his son. Without even thinking about it, Katsuki talked about you whenever you were on TV. He didn’t know why he just couldn’t keep quiet about you being Hiroto’s father. So now, whenever you were on TV, Bakugou had to lie and say you were in another country fighting the bad guys, even though you were still in Tokyo, mere 4 hours away with the train. But Katsuki couldn’t come back. Not after he had hurt you so much. It was his decision to raise Hiroto alone. You deserved to be successful, it had been your dream. Kids just weren’t a thing you had planned for, at least not with 21.

Being caught up in his own thoughts, Bakugou didn’t see you on the other side of the street. Neither did you see him. Both of you staring ahead, thinking back to three years ago, what had been and what it could have become. However, something connected you both. You never had a chance to bond with him, was it a tradition in your alpha family to bond during the wedding night, but your connection was different. Said connection was looking up and across the street.

Hiroto just looked around tiredly when he saw someone. Someone he had seen on TV multiple times. The little boy didn’t know how many times he had wanted Katsuki to show him YouTube videos of you fighting.

“HAAAHHH!? DADDY!?”, a piercing cry came from the little one, shaking you and Katsuki awake. The latter immediately grabbing Hiroto, but.. it was too late.

“HIRO?!”, he yelled, though his son ran across the streets.

You, on the other hand, were so incredibly confused. There he was, standing literally on the other side and then there was a little child, running towards you and calling for you. Was this the “Why?” you had searched for, for so long? You couldn’t think about it when your legs moved on their own to get the kid out of a potential dangerous situation.

It was a blessing that the small town didn’t have much traffic, hence why you could easily run towards him, scoop him up and get back to the safe sidewalks in mere seconds. You didn’t want to imagine what could have happened in a busy city like Tokyo.

Then you stood there, awkwardly holding Hiroto who was crying and sobbing into your t-shirt while Katsuki’s own emotions were all over the place. The Omega had never imagined the possible chance of meeting you again. After three years, all he had built up from scratch to have a comfortable life far, far away from you, as to not disturb your career, it all broke apart.

However, Bakugou wasn’t the only one hearing something shattering, your own heart dropped into your stomach. The already broken pieces shattering more when you saw the pure horror displayed on his face. This was not how you imagined meeting him again. He hated you. You were certain of that. Whatever you had done to him, he never wanted to see you again. It all was so clear to you now it almost brought you to tears then and there.

Your inner Alpha was strongly urging you to just grab him, Katsuki was your Omega, even if you never had a chance to mark him, that’s just how it was. He was yours. But…

Slowly pushing your son away you put him into Bakugou’s arms. There were no words said, the only thing disturbing the silence was Hiroto’s sobbing. Especially when you loosened his tight grip on your t-shirt, he started squirming and screaming, trying to grab onto you more. He had seen you on TV so many times and now you were right in front of him. Yet, Hiroto had to watch when you turned around and left him behind.

You had so many questions rushing through your head, but at the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to utter them out loud. Not after seeing Bakugou’s expression. This was never supposed to happen. Even if your heart yearned for answers, especially regarding his son… your son?

Without thinking about it, Katsuki put Hiroto down to let him run after you once again. It was such an impulse thing to do, he truly didn’t know why he had done it. Though after three years, why should he hide anymore when you had seen everything now? Also… after so long, he might have not been able to ignore his heart’s desire and yearning any longer.

It was so incredibly hard to ignore Hiroto’s crying and just walk away as if it had never happened, but for the sake of Katsuki’s happiness, you chose to go. However, a sudden tug made you stop. Looking down you saw ice around your ankles. It was weak and thin, easily breakable really. Hiroto’s? When you turned around, he had already clutched your leg tightly. Why?

When you looked back up, Bakugou also stood in front of you, his ruby eyes shimmering a little.

“Do you … want to talk?”, he finally asked, his voice breaking at the end though as he tried his hardest not to cry. What was he doing? It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you in like three weeks, it had been YEARS since he left without any other word. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him or Hiroto?

“Yes!”, you said and it truly caught the Omega off-guard. After everything he put you through… If he was in your position he probably would have been so angry and furious, but you just seemed exhausted and tired.

But finally, you would be getting some answers.

All night long, you couldn’t sleep. After you had calmed down Hiroto enough, Bakugou gave you a little piece of paper with his address on it. “I work until 7. So we can talk without any disturbance.”, he said when he gave you the information. It was probably for the best. You didn’t want to imagine what would happen when your feelings would overcome you out in a café. [Your.hero.name] seen screaming in Hokkaido – you could see the news all over the internet already. So, it was probably for the best to meet him at home.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous. How had your ex-fiancé been living his life the past three years? It was all exciting and scary at the same time to find out those things.

When you knocked on his door, your inner Alpha was impatiently pacing up and down. It was as nervous as you. But when the door opened and Katsuki stood there, you were sure for the first time in the last 12 hours, that it wasn’t a dream. Walking inside was heaven and hell at the same time. Everything smelled like him. The Omega’s scent was so familiar, but another one was mixed in – probably Hiroto’s.

“A friend of mine is looking after Hiroto tonight so he won’t be dragged into this.”, he said, nervously fumbling with his scent-blocking collar.

It was weird wearing it at home, but for you and himself, he had to wear it. His Omega had been going in circles ever since he met you again yesterday. It wanted to be taken and to be honest, Bakugou was also close to surrender to you. But it wasn’t that easy. You probably had so many questions.

“Oh… Yeah that’s for the best. Katsuki.”, you suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallways.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I can't wait, but you need to tell me now. Hiroto, he… called me Daddy and he has an ice quirk… so I am not wrong to assume that he is… our son?”

Katsuki could vividly feel your emotions, the Omega was shuddering, his throat dry and hands sweatier than usual.

“Yeah…”, was all he could choke out.

“Oh.. my God.”, you just mumbled to yourself. Hearing it out loud was like another punch in your stomach.

“Did you… leave me when you were pregnant?”, was your next question, still standing in the middle of the hallway.

However, Katsuki couldn’t even blame you. There were so many questions left unanswered.

“We were too young…”, his ruby eyes were shimmering again with tears, but he tried his best to keep them at bay.

“Too young?”, you were speechless for a moment, before looking back, “Why didn’t you tell me?! Why did you just… leave? Why… did you do everything yourself?!”

Now you were finally angry. After so long, you just couldn’t understand why he would leave you without saying anything. It could have all come differently if Katsuki would have just been honest!

“You had your career?! A baby didn’t just… fucking fit into our lifestyle! What else could I have done?!”, Bakugou yelled back. He knew it would come to this.

“SO?! You also had your career, we were both working hard to become well-known heroes so that’s not a fucking excuse. What else?? You seriously ask me?!”, you gestured wildly.

“You wouldn’t have wanted to raise a child, it was too soon!”

“It was NOT your right to decide that for me!”, you yelled, your voice breaking as tears welled up.

Bakugou once again being a little taken aback. His heart was racing and his tears so close to falling.

“You could have asked me, we could have worked it out.”, the first tears successfully fought their way out as they rolled over your cheeks.

“I loved you SO MUCH. If it was possible I would have literally brought you the stars from the sky. I would have done anything. And you? You just leave. Without anything but a letter telling me you cannot marry me. Do you have the slightest idea how I felt?”, your voice was shaking and breaking here and there, but it was freeing to finally let it all out.

“I thought it was for the best. I didn’t know what to do.“, Bakugou’s voice was so uncharacteristically weak and small.

“You didn’t know?? Did you never trust me, Katsuki? Was I just- such a horrible Alpha to you? Did you think I’d force you to an abortion? Was I not good enough to be a father?!”, you asked trying so hard not to scream, but all these pent up feelings, it all just gushed out without any sort of valve to stop yourself.

“That’s not it! I knew you wouldn’t do that, I just-“

“WHAT? Please tell me why! Why?! Why was I not worthy to be your mate? Why did you refuse to tell me and just leave?! Why did you chose raising OUR baby alone, I-“

“I DON’T KNOW, OKAY?! I don’t know! It was a fucking stupid decision out of nowhere!”, he finally screamed back, tears cascading down his face.

“Don’t you think I have regretted it? Do you think I LIKE being a single parent?! I know I fucked up. I know I threw it all away because I panicked, okay?! I just panicked and before I knew it I was on the train.”, Katsuki sobbed, desperately wiping away his tears.

“We were so fucking young! We had planned to marry, we were talking about saving up for the future to build a house, to have a family in like 10 years or more. But… But I just messed up! I forgot to take my medication before going into Heat, it was my fault I got pregnant- I… I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. Throw everything we planned out the window because I was too fucking stupid to remember.”, his voice broke horribly, being squeaky from time to time as Bakugou’s guilt just overflowed.

The Omega was shaking and instinctively, you and your inner Alpha wanted to protect him. Hence why you wiped away your tears and took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“I know I messed up. Fuck.”, he cried and yet laughed at himself. Hands buried in his hair, Bakugou just wanted to cease to exist in that moment. He had done so many things wrong in his life. The only good thing that had ever happened was meeting you and falling in love with you and even that he destroyed.

He was gasping for air due to talking nonstop while gesturing with his hands wildly. And then, you just hugged him. Your Alpha scent surrounding him and soothing him. Your arms strong and warm, just perfect to melt into them and let everything loose. Oh, how he had missed that.

“I just… wish you had given me a choice. I wish you would have trusted me more. I would have done anything for you and our baby. It would have been hard, I know, but I am sure we would have been able to make it work.”, you quietly said while soothingly caressing his back and letting a quiet, calming purr erupt from your throat. A sign how close you truly were as you would never purr for anyone else than Bakugou.

“I’m sorry.”, Bakugou sobbed and clawed at your clothes, “I love you and I missed you and.. it was so hard alone, but I know I don’t have any fucking right to complain about it because it’s all my fault and I hurt you so much and-“

You hugged him a little tighter.

“I regret everything, I… I… can you forgive me? Can you give me a second chance? I know I don’t deserve it. I know…”

Had you ever seen him so weak before? No. And it truly tugged on your heart strings. There is nothing you wanted more. Get back together. Be happy again. But-

“Katsuki… have you ever thought of coming back to me? Like, if I had never shown up, if I had never found out… wouldn’t you keep on living without me just fine? Don’t you think this is your guilty conscious speaking? You don’t want me. You don’t need me.”

That was the last thing you said before you pulled back from him at last. Bakugou was quite speechless, just staring at you, red, swollen eyes and a tear-stained face made it hard to just go. But it was for the better. Even if he had regretted it, he was never pushed so far as to come back to you. Like that, maybe it was for the best.

Though before you could turn away, he grabbed your hand.

“Katsuki…”

“I wanted… during the pregnancy, after Hiroto was born and every time I saw you on TV, I was so close to leaving all of this. But at that point, I was too fucking scared. I had no right to go back… There are so many letters I’ve written and never sent. [Your.name], I… I literally have a suitcase ready to go. I’ve been waiting for some sort of sign or I don’t know and now? You’re here. Right here in front of me. I know it’s foolish and I’m stupid and have no fucking right to demand this from you, but please… Let me come back. Please forgive me. Please… be Hiroto’s father.”

He had never in his life begged. His superiority complex definitely wouldn’t allow for any of that, but right now was different. He realized the hurt he had caused. How wrong he was. Bakugou had regretted running away in the first week of living in Hokkaido. He always told himself it was “the right thing”. So maybe it was pathetic that he came crawling back, but if there was a slight chance you would take him back, he just had to take it.

You just sighed. Your heart was confused. While your heart screamed yes over and over again, your brain was telling you no. What if it was just a spur of the moment thing? What if he would leave you again when things would get tough?

But then, you looked down and onto his hand. The gold engagement ring you had gotten him around four years ago was still on his ring finger.

“You still… wear it?”, you asked as you reached for the hand that gripped your wrist tightly. His hands were shaking still – you have never seen him like that.

“It’s the only thing that kept me connected to you…”

“Katsuki…”

Reaching out, you cupped his face with your big hand, the Omega instinctively leaning against it. It was okay. Even if you were to get hurt again. Even if you forgave too quickly. Everything was okay now as you leaned in to connect your lips.

Holding onto you immediately, Bakugou’s fingers clawed at your t-shirt not wanting to let go ever again. Your lips melting together, emotions overwhelming you both as you pressed him into the wall. One hand reaching up to his collar. It took mere seconds for it to snap open. Then it fell to the floor, unleashing all of Bakugou’s Omega scent.

It being overwhelming was quite the understatement. Your knees were weak and legs shaking. You couldn’t resist the urge to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Oh my God…”, you moaned as you slowly slid down onto the ground with him, Katsuki just whimpering as he hugged your body as close as possible.

He would never let go again – never!

With your teeth gracing along his neck, your sweaty bodies collided over and over again. Bakugou only able to sob as he held on to your hands tightly, nails digging into your skin and almost drawing blood.

You were hovering above him, hearing his cries and sobs. The sweet scent from his neck being so irresistible. You just wanted to bite. Mark him. It had been a tradition in your household to do so on your wedding night, but…

“Do it…”, you suddenly heard.

Bakugou could barely choke it out, ruby eyes filled with tears of pleasure as he whispered one more time, “Do it… It’s overdue…”

And then, without thinking twice about it anymore, you grabbed him tightly while your teeth sank into his skin.

A marvelous burning pain rushing through his body almost made Katsuki pass out. The sweet torture of being bonded to his mate was almost too much. That was all he had longed for, for so long. He didn’t know why you would take such a coward like him back, but he was so grateful and plain… happy.

Once you opened your eyes the next morning, it all felt like a dream. Especially when you reached to your side and it was empty.

Sitting up abruptly, you looked around – definitely not your room. So what happened last night was not a dream. However…

Without putting anything on, your heart was beating so fast when you rushed outside the bedroom door. Flashbacks to three years ago were haunting your mind.

“Katsuki?”, you tore open the next door, prepared to just see another letter on one of the tables.

Though it, thankfully, wasn’t the case. There he was, standing in the kitchen, your flannel from yesterday the only thing covering his body while he was talking to someone on the phone. Unintentionally, tears had formed in your eyes, but now, you just sighed shakily and wiped over your eyes quickly.

Bakugou, who had turned around once he heard you calling for him, certainly had his heart sinking in the pit of his stomach.

That was his fault.

“Okay… okay, thank you.”, then he ended the call and turned to you, “Sorry, it was about Hiro. Akitoshi will bring him over before lunch.”

“Ah? Mh, okay.”

“Hey…”, putting his phone onto the table, he walked towards you. The Omega’s strong arms wrapped around your waist as he cuddled against your chest.

“I am not running away again. I promise.”, Katsuki barely whispered.

Hugging him tightly with your hand buried in his hair, you just quietly sighed and then kissed his forehead before leaning your head against his.

“I know. I just need some time.”, you also said quietly and Bakugou understood.

Hence why he reached out to cup your face, smiling softly.

“I love you.”

A small smile also flitted across your lips. Your hands cupping his own as you leaned down to kiss him.

“I love you, too.”

Walking back into the bedroom, Bakugou soon lost the flannel again as he slipped into bed, snuggling against you; legs tangled and naked bodies melting together. Unintentionally your hand had slipped down to his belly. That’s when you felt uneven skin and a scar underneath your fingertips. Yesterday, you were caught up in all your pent up emotions too much, so you didn’t notice.

It was his C-Section scar.

“Katsuki?”

“Hm?”

“Tell me about Hiroto.”

Subconsciously, his lips curved into a smile. That you wanted to know more about your son melted his heart but also made him feel more guilty. If only he could turn back time.

“Yeah.”, and then, he started talking and you just listened to the soothing voice of your Omega.

There were three years to catch up on, but due to Katsuki telling your son about you all the time, at least it was easier for Hiroto. With how he was clinging to you yesterday, it was obvious he loved you even though he had never met you in person. And you wanted to be there for him at last. You had only met him yesterday for a brief moment but your heart was already filled with so much love that you wanted to give to him.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: I’d love to know what y’all thought of this story? :) once again I took inspiration from the request and I am pretty happy with the outcome!

#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bakugou x reader #bottom bakugou #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #abo #mpreg #omega bakugou #bakugou

932 notes · View notes

btsqualityy · 3 years

Text

Fools Rush In: Chapter 10

Jungkook x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, Strangers-to-lovers, age gap!AU (reader is 30, Jungkook is 23), Angst, smut, fluff

Summary: You make a decision regarding your return to tennis after having the baby and you and Jungkook make amends.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, nipple play, fingering, dirty talk, and creampie.

WC: 3.2K

A few days later, neither you or Jungkook had made any moves to talk to each other. Admittedly, you did feel like the entire argument was kind of stupid but it was also important stuff that you had been arguing about and you were still upset about it.

“Are you more so upset that he wants the baby to be born in Korea or at the fact that he’s just not going along with what you want?” Yumi questioned through the phone after you had told her about your and Jungkook’s argument. You sighed heavily, kicking your feet against the ground as you sat on the sidelines of the tennis court that you were at.

“Both,” you replied. “Because he never said anything about wanting the baby to be born here until his parents did.”

“To be fair, you never said anything to him about not having the baby there until that lunch either,” Yumi pointed out with a chuckle. “So you can’t be upset at him for that. He probably didn’t think it was something that really needed to be discussed and clearly, neither did you.”

“But Yume, I’m the one having the baby,” you whined, pretty childishly but you chose to ignore that. “Shouldn’t I get to chose where I’m the most comfortable?”

“Yes but you are also in a relationship with the baby’s father,” Yumi said. “It’s not just you anymore, and you have to take Jungkook into consideration when you make decisions like that. That goes double for things that have to do with the baby.”

“I guess,” you muttered.

“You’re just too used to calling all of the shots yourself, control freak,” Yumi joked, making you scoff into the phone.

“Please. You’ve broken up with men for less,” you shot back.

“This isn’t about me though,” Yumi laughed. “So, are you gonna stop being a raging bitch and talk it out with Jungkook?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged to yourself. “I have a training session that’s about to start so I might call him later. I’m still a little annoyed though, if I’m being honest.”

“That’s probably just the pregnancy hormones,” Yumi told you. “And a training session? I thought you were taking the rest of your pregnancy off.”

“You know how my parents went back to the States the day before yesterday?” You asked and Yumi hummed in confirmation. “My dad mentioned that maybe I should keep working out for as long as I can in hopes that when I come back after having the baby, it won’t be as difficult so I called Namjoon and asked if he could meet me for a session.”

“Is that safe?”

“I called Dr. Na and she said that it should be fine, as long as I listen to my body.”

“Oh hell, we all know that’s not gonna happen,” Yumi tsked, making you roll your eyes at her dramatics. “And what happened to you training with Hobi?”

“He was so amazing during the rehabilitation for my injury, I decided to give him an extended vacation,” you explained. “Plus, it’s not as if I’m training for competition. It’s just conditioning so it doesn’t have to be super intensive.”

“That’s true,” Yumi agreed. “Well, be careful alright? I don’t want you doing any harm to my god child out there.”

“I will be,” you promised. “When’s your next competition?”

“Saturday, in Belize,” she replied and you groaned loudly.

“Ugh, I’m jealous,” you huffed.

“Just think about how I’ll be burning my ass off out there while you’re in nice air conditioning and that’ll help you feel better,” she joked, and you laughed loudly at her.

“Will do,” you giggled. “Baby and I will be watching. Kick their asses.”

“Of course,” Yumi grinned. “I’ll call you later, ok? Make sure you talk to Jungkook too.”

“Yes Mom,” you snorted. “Bye Yume.”

“Bye,” she responded and you hung up the phone, looking up just in time to see Namjoon walking over to you. Namjoon was kind of like your secondary trainer, who would come in whenever Hobi couldn’t or even when you just wanted a change of pace. Though you only saw him occasionally, you did know that he was somewhat of a bookworm, super nice, and easily the smartest person that you had ever met.

“Y/N-ah!” Namjoon called out and you stood up from your chair, easily allowing him to gather you up into a gentle hug.

“Namjoon, how are you?” You asked with a smile as you both pulled away from the hug.

“I’ve been good, really good,” he nodded as he looked down at your baby bump. “I guess I don’t have to ask you how you’ve been. You’ve grown.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “I’m halfway through my pregnancy now.”

“That’s insane,” he huffed with a grin. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you replied, watching as he set his gym bag down on the ground next to the chair that you had been sitting in before he started to take his warm up sweats off.

“So, what are your goals for this session?” Namjoon questioned. “Is this just for fun, or do you plan on using this as conditioning?”

“Definitely conditioning,” you confirmed. “Once the baby’s born, I plan on going back to tennis as soon as I’m safely able to and my father suggested that I lessen the learning curve and keep conditioning.”

“Ah, the great Michael L/N,” Namjoon chuckled. “How is he?”

“He’s good, pissed that I’m pregnant but good,” you shrugged.

“Not surprised to hear that,” Namjoon admitted. “Tell him that I said hello?”

“Will do,” you agreed.

“Ok so, if we’re gonna do this conditioning, you’re gonna have to be as dedicated to it as you were to training,” Namjoon explained. “As you already know, there’s no point in doing all that work and not keeping up with it. Of course, we’ll adjust as you get further into your pregnancy and we’ll stop as soon as you feel you need to. Once the baby is born and you get cleared, we’ll have to work extra hard just to retrain your body and even if you’ll only be able to workout once a week, that’ll be better than nothing. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” you smiled.

“Alright, from this point on, we’re in this together and I’m gonna work as hard as you do,” Namjoon promised, holding his hand up and smiling when you gave him a high five. “Let’s go.”

....................................................

After your two hour session with Namjoon, you slowly trudged your way into the elevator that would take you up to your apartment. Being as though you hadn’t actively trained or played in two months prior to today, your body was aching even as you stood still while the elevator moved upwards. You relished in it though, because you missed the feeling and you knew that it just meant you worked out correctly.

When you stepped off of the elevator, you immediately reached into your bag and grabbed your keys before looking back up again, your eyes widening when you saw Jungkook standing next to your front door.

“Jungkook?” You called out, making him look up from his phone and at you as you paced over to him. “What are you doing here? How long have you been standing out here?”

“Like an hour,” Jungkook shrugged. “And I wanted to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you just call me?” You wondered with a huff as you moved towards the front door, unlocking it with your key before opening the door and stepping inside. Jungkook was right behind you, walking in and slipping his shoes off as you shut and locked the door before doing the same thing.

“I was worried you wouldn’t answer the phone,” He admitted and you just sighed as you let your gym bag fall onto the ground.

“Come on, let’s go in the living room and talk,” you told him, leading the way and settling onto the couch, watching as Jungkook flopped down next to you.

“First off, I just want to say that I’m sorry,” He apologized. “I shouldn’t have picked a fight with you that night after lunch with our parents. I was just upset that you hadn’t even bothered to tell me what your plans were, as if I don’t matter in all of this.”

“Jungkook, that was never my intention,” you swore. “It really did just slip my mind. It wasn’t ever something that I was purposely keeping from you.”

“If we’re going to be in a relationship and raise this baby together, then we need to talk to each other,” Jungkook continued on. “I understand where you were coming from but if we’re in this together, we have to make decisions together. I don’t like the feeling that I’m being left out of things. Ok?”

“Ok,” you nodded in agreement. “And I’m sorry for not telling you and not talking it out with you. It wasn’t fair for me to just boldly announce that I was going back to the States like that, especially in front of your parents. That was shitty of me.”

“I accept your apology,” he smiled. “So, should we try to discuss this whole residence thing, or is that too much for today?”

“I think it’s too much for today and too varied of a discussion,” you told him. “I’m only 20 weeks, so we have time to figure it out and I promise, I’ll be honest with you and lay everything out so that you can know the full picture.”

“I will too,” Jungkook agreed. “Did we just survive out first argument as a couple?”

“We did,” you giggled. “I think we did ok. What about you?”

“I think so too, but I did miss you more than I expected to,” he admitted and you couldn’t help but to smile at that.

“I did too even though I was pissed at you,” you confessed.

“How about if you take your frustrations out on my body?” Jungkook smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you hummed noncommittally. “I’m not really in the mood.”

“I can fix that,” Jungkook chuckled. “Come here.” You leaned over, letting Jungkook cup your face in his hands as he kissed you passionately. You didn’t hesitate to return the kiss, letting your mouth drop open as his tongue tangled with yours. The two of you made out for at least a few minutes, getting lost in the feeling of each other’s mouths and reacquainting yourselves with each other.

“Fuck, I missed you so fucking much,” Jungkook muttered deeply, pulling away from your mouth and moving downwards, pressing open mouthed kisses along your jaw line and down your neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, your breath hitching when he began to suck on the pulse point on your neck. “Jungkook, please.”

“Begging already, baby?” He murmured, moving away from your neck and down to your chest. He pulled on the tank top that you had on, not letting it go until the neckline had stretched out and caused your breasts to plop out. As soon as the neckline was resting against your sternum, he bent down and took your right nipple into his mouth.

“Ha, fuck,” you moaned, reaching up and resting your hands on the back of Jungkook’s head, tangling your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck as you held him to your chest. Once your nipple had pebbled into a nub, Jungkook pulled off of it and moved over to your left nipple, giving it the same intense treatment. You began to squirm underneath him, the feeling of him sucking on your nipples shooting right down to your pussy.

“Stay still baby,” Jungkook whispered against you and you whined.

“Touch me,” you demanded, pouting when you heard him just chuckle in response. Luckily, you weren’t upset for too long because Jungkook trailed one of his hands down your abdomen, his fingertips running over your growing stomach before he got down to the waistband of your leggings. His fingers dipped underneath, easily finding your slit and teasing it over your panties.

“Oh, look at that,” He murmured as he let your nipple fall out of his mouth before sitting up again and looking at you. “You’re so wet already, and I barely did anything baby.”

“Told you I missed you,” you joked, and he laughed as he moved his fingers so that they were underneath your panties and touching your bare clit. You keened when he began to rub you firmly, your hips bucking as you chased the feeling.

“Think you can take my fingers inside of you?” He wondered quietly and you nodded your head as you reached down to hold onto his wrist, your eyes fluttering shut as he slowly pushed two digits into you.

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered. Jungkook began to fuck you earnestly then, making sure to push his fingers as deep as he could while steadily pumping them into you. You grabbed Jungkook’s chin with your free hand, forcing him to look at you before you kissed him passionately. The two of you made out messily while Jungkook fucked you, your moans flowing into his mouth as your orgasm built up in the pit of your stomach.

“I feel you clenching around my fingers baby,” he whispered against your lips. “You gonna come?”

“So fucking hard,” you confirmed.

“Give it to me,” he commanded you, hooking his fingers upwards and fucking you harder. You yelped, clutching onto his arm as your orgasm crested over.

“Right there Jungkook, fuck,” you moaned, your head falling back against the couch and your body going limp. Once you had finished coming, Jungkook pulled his fingers out of your leggings and marveled at how your cum clung to his skin.

“Fuck, look at that,” He muttered, bringing his fingers up so that you could see how much you had come. He placed them in front of your mouth and leaned in, and you got the message, leaning forward as well and licking your cum off of his fingers. Your tongue slid against his as you both worked to clean his fingers and as soon as you were both done, Jungkook kissed you again.

“Fuck me,” you requested.

“Guess that worked huh?” Jungkook chuckled, making you roll your eyes. “Alright, alright, take your leggings off.” You did as he said, reaching down and pushing the waistband of the leggings as well as your panties down and off your legs. Jungkook stood up as you did this, quickly shucking off his t-shirts and joggers as well as his underwear. Once you were done, you looked up to see Jungkook huffed heavily.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“I don’t have a condom on me,” he told you. “Do you?”

“No, we used the last of mine the other week, remember?” You said. “You don’t have to use one though.”

“Really?” He questioned and you nodded sheepishly.

“I mean, you’re clean right?” You wondered and he hummed in affirmation. “And we’ve only been having sex with each other for the past two months so I don’t mind going without.”

“Me either,” He smiled. “Alright, scoot back so that your back is against the back of the couch.” You did as instructed, lifting yourself up so that you could rest comfortably against the couch as Jungkook bent his knees and rested on the edge of the couch. Watching in rapt interest, you sighed blissfully as Jungkook grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head against your clit.

“Don’t tease me please,” you pleaded. “Put it in.”

“Ok baby, ok,” Jungkook whispered, pulling his hips back and slowly pushing the head of his cock inside of you. Your head fell back against the couch, your jaw dropping at how good his cock inside of you, skin to skin.

“God damn it,” Jungkook grumbled, placing his hands firmly on the back of the couch as he began to fuck into you gently.

“Fuck Kook,” you whimpered as you reached up and placed your hands on his chest. He looked down at you with a smile then, and you couldn’t help but to be confused. “What?”

“You called me Kook,” he said and you nodded, not even having realized that you did it.

“Is that not what people call you?” You teased.

“You know what I mean,” Jungkook huffed, making sure his knees were stable on the edge of the couch before he began to fuck you a little more forcefully.

No matter how many times you and Jungkook had sex, it seemed as if every time was better than the last. You loved how Jungkook always made you feel like the only woman on Earth and it showed in how attentive he was anytime the two of you were intimate.

“Shit, you feel so good Y/N-ah,” Jungkook groaned. “The wettest fucking pussy.”

“Y-you made me w-wet,” you stammered and he smirked, using one of his hands to rub at your cit.

“That’s right baby,” he nodded, angling his hips so that the head of his cock nudged against your g-spot. “Gonna let me fuck you raw from now on? Gonna let me feel how tight you are wrapped around my cock?”

“Yes Kook, fuck me,” you moaned.

“Tell me how you want it baby, you know I’ll give it to you,” he told you.

“Want it harder and faster,” you requested and Jungkook nodded, wordlessly giving you exactly what you wanted. His hand didn’t stop rubbing at your clit as he fucked you and your back arched up into the air as you felt your orgasm winding to it’s end.

“Right there, right there, right there,” you chanted, moving your hands away from his chest and placing them on the sides of his body, your nails digging into his skin. “I-I’m gonna fucking come.”

“Come on baby, come on me,” Jungkook encouraged you, fucking into you faster. “Come with me.” The living room filled with your moans, Jungkook’s grunts, and the sounds of skin slapping as you both prepared to fall head first into your orgasms.

“Where do you want me to come baby?” He asked you.

“Inside of me,” you mumbled and he nodded in confirmation. With a few more thrusts, you were coming on his length, loud moans escaping your throat as he began to come inside of you.

“Fuck!” He grumbled deeply, his hips stuttering against yours as he pumped his cum into you. Once your own orgasm had subsided, you fell back against the couch and watched with hooded eyes as he slowly pulled out of you.

“God, I missed that,” Jungkook huffed as he flopped down on the couch next to you, and you immediately snuggled into his side.

“Me too,” you replied, leaning over and kissing him firmly. After a few seconds, Jungkook pulled away to look at you.

“Wanna know something?” Jungkook asked and you nodded your head. “When I was sucking your tits a little bit ago, a little liquid came out of your nipple.”

“Ugh, that’s my colostrum,” you whined in embarrassment. “The doctor said that it could come in at any time.”

“Is that like breast milk?”

“It’s kind of like an early stage of it, before it actually becomes breast milk,” you explained. “Why did you have to tell me? I would’ve preferred to live in ignorant bliss.”

“It’s all a part of what comes along with baby,” Jungkook hummed as he reached over and rubbed his hand over your baby bump. “And as for the cestrum thing,-”

“Colostrum,” you corrected him.

“How about a warm bath?” He offered and you instantly nodded your head.

“Carry me?” You requested and he stood up, bending down to scoop you up into his arms.

“Hold onto me baby,” Jungkook whispered and you did as he said, laying your head against his shoulder as you allowed him to carry you out of the living room and into your bedroom.

....................................................

Tag List: @mwitsmejk @hey-youre-appreciated @bettyschwallocksyee @jaiuneamesolitaiire @knowlestaehyung @missseoulite @afangirllikeme-blog @fan-ati--c @d-noona @bang-bang-bangtxn @claricedelune @daydreambrliever @dunixxd @unicornbabylover @paperpurple @addictedtohobi @bbtsficrecs @bts-junseagull @eltrain80 @karlykim92 @thekookiecorner

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bangtanbathhouse #bts reactions #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios

271 notes · View notes

dboliklover · 3 years

Text

Breathless Whispers - Shu

My new series. Will take a while to complete (don’t mind the fact I am STILL working on the Easter Smut series). It’s based off an ask I got and is very sinful and I implore everyone who is triggered by the following to NOT INTERACT WITH THIS SERIES. The tags will vary from each entry but “Breathless Whispers” is a SAKAMAKI BROTHERS X STEPMOTHER! READER Smut series. As such Cheating/Adultery and pseudo-incest/stepcest are always going to be included in the chapters.

Tags for this chapter: Stepcest/pseudo-incest, cheating, NTR (Netorare) ((Karlheinz gets cucked)), dub-con (the reader believes she has feelings for Shu), dubiously-consensual implied impregnation, mentions of pregnancy, blood, and my out-of-practice smut writing skills that border on cringe, Happy sex (?)

This is as vanilla as it’s gonna get for this series, methinks. Next chapter it’s Reiji’s turn. ;) Happy sinning ❤

WORD COUNT: 5.8K (11 pages)

___

In his life, Shu learnt to try to ignore meaningless things around him and to feel as precious little as possible - he didn’t need to feel, it added no enhancement to his life. To love was to have weakness and those he loved and cared for often ended tragically.

It was only natural that he chose to stick to himself and become a solitary creature after all that he’s been through, was it not? Solitude meant safety. Slowly but surely Shu cut as many emotions away with a metaphorical knife as he could, opting instead to be careless regarding all matters. He didn’t need anyone else, just himself. Only himself.

But there was one emotion that refused to leave, one emotion he would never allow the chance to withdraw from his heart - hatred. Pure, unadulterated loathing towards the man who caused his, his brothers’ and their mothers’ tragedies - Karlheinz. The hatred he felt was coated by a layer of would-be indifference - he knew better than to challenge the man, at least for the meanwhile - memories from the North Pole haunted him still. His father was a cruel, demanding man and Shu felt abhorrence, perhaps it did not reach the hatred felt by some other brothers but it was there and undying.

Karlheinz’s largest sin of all was the pain he caused his mother - the burdens he put onto him were a close second, however. But Beatrix’s suffering still wounded Shu to think about even after so many years had passed. The guilt instilled in him from that time flowed through his veins, unrelenting. His mother had her streaks of emotionally tormenting him but after all she merely wanted to prepare him for a difficult life ahead and Shu missed her presence as demanding as it was. And that was why when his father chose to re-marry yet again, Shu felt nothing but slight pity for the bride but regardless, he felt towards her as he did with most things; wholly indifferent. That was, of course, until he got to know the woman - he recalled the wedding day, it was a boring event and the fact his appearance had to be publicly seen bothered him for he’d much rather be doing anything but - still, he did as told and attended, albeit with minimal effort.

You made for a blushing bride, he couldn’t deny that. Glamorous appearance was hardly something he heeded though, and his father was known for choosing beautiful women as his wives - you knew nothing of the terrible fate that was bound to befall you in the coming months or years. At least all the other wives were long dead, namely Cordelia (whose torments only fed into the neglect his father served his mother, furthering her agonies) so you’d have no other competitors for Karlheinz’s horrid affections. He felt nothing for you, then. But unbeknownst to him, that detachment would not last forever and soon thereafter Karlheinz sent his bride away to live with his sons: what drove his father to such a foolish decision baffled Shu and he felt it somewhat of a ploy, another experiment to conduct. Maybe it was, but then again it only wasted time and energy to speculate on what went through Karlheinz’s mind. But you were their new stepmother, not one of their sacrificial brides; that was made clear, if unspoken. You were not their shared property but the property of the vampire king and it was to be respected, even if you had a puppet authority or no true power over them.

He avoided you at first, in his mind getting to know anyone was worthless; and yet you persisted under the guise of ‘getting to know’ him and the others, wanting a relationship with your new stepsons. None of them really wanted a relationship with you, except for perhaps Reiji who hoped that you’d speak well of him to his father, ever-the-suckup.

You were a vampire of course, although it was surprising to learn that you were not a pureblood as they were. Karlheinz always made his decisions for a reason and he knew the reason for marrying you wasn’t love: therefore must’ve been something else entirely.

Karlheinz was incapable of love.

Gradually he found himself enjoying your attempted affections and voice - you figured out his disposition and chose to talk to him without expecting anything more than grunts and hums in return, knowing he preferred to listen to his music. Even he wasn’t sure at what point in your relationship he started to favour the sound of your melodious voice to his earphones, but it happened and he soon found himself turning down the volume as you spoke about your day if only to listen to your sweet voice far more vividly. He started to seek you out, something...unusual growing in his soul at the sight of you - he began appearing in places you were around the mansion, silently guarding you against the likes of the others (such as Laito). He liked being around you - a feeling he’d lost long ago ever since the “death” of Edgar - true companionship. But it couldn’t last perpetually, as nothing ever could, and those amicable feelings grew until they bloomed into something far darker than protectiveness towards his new stepmother and prospective friend - his heart yearned for you in the most unusual ways. It was troublesome for an overwhelming variety of reasons, primarily because he couldn’t have you. His romantic intentions soon turned to a subtle obsession. He needed to be close to you, always there - watching.

You’d always smile and greet him pleasantly, innocently - how on earth you could be so innocent after centuries’ worth of living on this earth, much less so after marrying Karlheinz, he had no clue. Your naivety and sweet nature brought him to you, made him fall into insanity because of you. It wasn’t instantaneous, things rarely were. Months went by but eventually he could no longer cope, his dreams were haunted by your form and always the exact same: you laid nude, breasts perfect and demure for him to corrupt, moaning out his name like the most delightful song from an ephemeral musical meant only for him. But when he awoke he was alone.

You tempted him without even knowing it but it was only a matter of time before it would come back to haunt you, he couldn’t be expected to have control over his instincts and needs forever and the time came when he finally snapped.

Stepmother or not, he was going to have you. In a way, it served as the most exquisite form of perceived vengeance towards that man - to steal his wife. He was hesitant about how to approach his desire to seduce you, such things were really more of Laito’s expertise, but he’d be damned if he failed to achieve his goals. You were too good for Karlheinz - a kindly thing to the point of intoxication and frustration, too pure for a vampire. He wanted to be the one to fully spoil your spirit, he wouldn’t permit his father to shatter your psyche as he did with all his previous wives. Shu was going to protect you, but in order to do that he first had to take you; claim you for himself. And that’s when he came across the most intriguing sight: your hushed moans of pleasure as your [slender/chubby/elegant] fingers stroked your glistening cunt in your private chambers - the same chambers which were supposed to be blessed in sacred matrimony if only his father hadn’t left you here all alone at the mercy of his ravenous sons. He must’ve assumed such a thing would happen sooner or later, hadn’t he? If not, then...well, Shu couldn’t help but think it his father’s loss from his own folly. “Shu.” Your angelic voice uttered his name - not his father’s, not your husband’s - but his. In your moment of unholy ecstasy, it was him on your mind; thoughts of him that edged you to your bliss. His obsessive passions were returned to him in kind, it seemed, and he couldn’t be more glad.

“Shu?” You questioned the following evening at dusk, that blossom-pink blush dusting your cheeks like an undead Aphrodite, tempting him further into his hidden lustful hunger, “Is...is everything okay? You’ve been staring at me all evening and I just wanted to ask if there’s something wrong-” He sighed, eyes half-lidded as if tired but it was his internal frustration revealed. “There is.” “Oh?” You pouted and fuck, he wanted to bruise your plump lips right there and then until they held his mark. “You really are more trouble than you’re worth,” It was a lie, of course, but he was a guarded man and his words reflected that. “Shu…? What do you mean?” The sadistic aspect of him was fuelled by the subtle distress in your eyes, however, you tried to remain calm, he’d said harsher things and you knew he scarcely ever meant them but something...something seemed so offbeat tonight. No, not just tonight - as of recently, but you couldn’t place a finger on the exact date when things began to change between you.

Your hands were down, pressed together as your thumbs nervously rubbed the other. You just wanted answers. “Heh,” He smirked, “You have no idea how alluring you are, do you?” His tired eyes stared earnestly into your soul and you felt stripped of your integrity. An innocent blush flooded your visage with lecherous embarrassment at such a sensual suggestion, sputtering out various syllables as you rushed to find your footing and speak out in protest of such an inappropriate topic between mother and son - that was what you were, related or not...you were his mother, even if merely by marriage. Guilt clogged your throat up as you thought of your own lust for your stepson, he was only slightly younger than you were and handsome beyond compare (as much as you loathed to admit it, your carnal self preferred Shu’s indescribable silent grace and steely blue eyes to the snowy tresses of his father) and disgust for yourself stung you deeper than a knife dipped in holy water - had he...witnessed your acts of depravity in your chambers? Did he know? “S-Shu, I...I don’t know what you mean,” You were drowning, unable to form proper words, “Don’t.” He cut you off before you could deny what you both knew at that moment. You weren’t as innocent and proper as you made yourself out to be. As you wished to be. No, you were a creature of tainted prurience and Shu was more than happy to play into your fantasies. You paled and nodded, if you were human your heart would’ve surely been palpitating by now. Fear wholly consumed you - would he be disgusted by you - no, he would’ve made that clear by now. Shu hid his thoughts and feelings from others but if he’d felt abhorrent disgust he wouldn’t have chosen to speak to you or indeed even be around you, you trusted that truth if nothing else. But then there was only one explanation for his demeanour, one that made you clench your thighs tight as you stood before him, a woman. He stood from his seat, no longer laying on the windowsill. “You’ve been a terrible wife,” Tears of crimson welled in your eyes while your knees felt weak but you nodded, ashamed. “Yes.” “And a filthy mother,” His harsh breath on your ear and neck made you whimper, “Y...yes,” You stuttered out with another whimpering moan, “Shu please don’t toy with me, I’m sorry I-” Without another sound escaping your painted lips you felt the amorous pressure of your stepson’s kiss, disclosing the intense emotions he returned for you. Your mind screamed at you for your sins and yet you were both inhuman creatures; Perpetuity of faithfulness was boresome and your husband had done little but ignore you and your hopes for a good life. Shu, however, had been there since the beginning of your marriage - even if you’d started out as nothing more than his father’s wife - now you were so much more, immensely more. Your knees buckled as you gave into the kiss, unable to avoid your feelings for him a second longer - you needed him just like this and he needed you too.

Human or not, the inherent wrongness burned your flesh and chest. You’d tried to be a good wife but your husband had practically abandoned you here with his sons bred for him by other women, he’d left you here and did little to even write to you. Loneliness was an obvious side-effect and it was only a matter of time before you would’ve fallen into another’s arms. But your debauchery brought you right into his son’s embrace. A terrible wife indeed.

Shu devoured your moans, swallowing your lust and increasing his own as his ample size grew in the confinements of his pants. “Fuck,” He huffed out as you pulled away from him, blinking. Your thighs burned with a need only he could satisfy. A shy hand wandered down his body towards his growing erection, stroking it from the fabric of his pants. Your efforts were rewarded by the sound of his deep groans. How long had it been since anyone touched you like this? Since you’d been able to make someone feel unutterable pleasure - since anyone made you feel wanted? You had slept with Karlheinz only a couple of times and he failed to sate your inner hunger as Shu was doing with only kisses and loving groans. “You’re playing with fire,” He breathed out, staring at you and sealing you in place. “I...know,” You swallowed thickly, “P-please, I...I need-” “What do you need, whore?” His teasing words of degradation made you feel alive, you were the object of his uttermost attention. His lips traced your neck, licking and gnawing but never piercing, fangs flying over the tender flesh. “You.” The certainty in your otherwise meek voice nearly made him burst right there. He was done restraining himself, pearly fangs sharper than needles pierced your neck as Shu drank the sweet nectar beneath. Your pleasured moans filled the hallways of the Sakamaki manor and he prayed his brothers could hear you wherever they were knowing that he won you. And he was going to keep you. You were going to no longer be just his stepmother - you would be his woman.

The blood, thick and plentiful, dripped down your neck. The droplets were not wasted as his tongue gathered them before they could drip onto the marble flooring. Shu was going to get addicted to this taste - your taste - he was sure of it. This was what you were made for; to belong to him. As he did this you toyed with his pants, unzipping them and releasing his erect cock from its prison, letting it spring free, wet with precum. “Oh fuck,” You whimpered at the sensation, pumping up and down his length. You wanted this, you wanted him so badly. You could feel yourself slowly dripping with clenched thighs. This was wrong - it was revolting - but you couldn’t stop the heat inside you, your inner desires. On your quest to befriend your sons you inadvertently ended up falling in love with one of them and never before had you longed to be held by someone as you did when you were with him.

You wanted to be his, no one else’s. But you couldn’t be, for you already were a taken woman; despite the truth, you wanted to succumb to your immorality; to pretend that, for tonight alone, you were his.

Once he pulled away from your neck Shu chuckled lowly, “You’re such a lewd slut, mother.” You cringed at the name, reminding yourself of the positions between you two and, for a short-lived second, you attempted to pull away except the moment you did he caged in on you, back shoved against the wall with burning eyes glaring at you. “But you’re going to be my slut from now on.” his breath hitched as your hand movements sped up, blushing crimson from your wicked sensuality. You were loving this, in all its sinfulness. “Y-Yes,” You choked out submissively as you brought him to his edge, creamy cum coating your hand and sinking into the fabric of your dress, physically tainting you. It drove you wild.

The sight of you in front of him, dress dripping with his cum made him hard almost instantly as he ordered you to strip for him after he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the empty music room - he didn’t want to be interrupted by any of his bothersome brothers.

“Strip for me.”

You nodded and bit down harshly on your lip, droplets of blood still flowing from your neck at the open puncture wound, staining the white semen-soaked fabric as you unzipped the back and slowly released your hold on it as it fell down your form until you were exposed in only your undergarments, intimate and raw. This was incredibly embarrassing and yet, for him...you didn’t mind humiliating yourself. You were convinced of it, now: you were in love with him. Soft hands twirled around to unclip your bra, feeling as though it wasn’t merely your body which you were exposing to him but your very being as your breasts bounced free from the cups’ confinements, bra forgotten as you threw it down onto the floor, not caring about anything else but him. ‘Don’t do this’, your sanity pleaded but whatever morality may have existed in the cage of your heart was extinguished with a single gaze into his yearning eyes. If you didn’t do this the lack of his touch on your skin would surely drive you insane. You just wanted to be loved, cherished and used.

You were married - and although that sentiment alone should have been enough to snap you out of this sexual haze you were trapped in, it did little to sway your lust-filled judgement. Swallowing nervously your fingers dipped below the strips of your panties, sliding down your silky thighs, pride consumed you as you watched his subtle but intense reactions, the way his thick member twitched in anticipation made you feel powerful for the first time in your life. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. “Come here,” He growled, making you squeal as you nodded like a good little whore and fell onto your knees, crawling over to him - you felt like putting on a show for him, filled with risque concupiscence. If your husband was to ever find out you feared the consequences and despite the dangers, it drove you further into the arms of his eldest son to consider how taboo, how wrong such a union was. There was something unspokenly intimate about this. An intimacy from which you never wished to awaken. As soon as you were at his feet you admired his cock, glistening from residue cum in the moonlight. “Oh God,” You were about to cross a border from which you could never return and it turned you on profoundly to think about how your relationship would develop from here. Opening your mouth, you took his length inside your warmth, (e/c) eyes staring up at him like a sweet gazelle, pumping your head up and down and twisting your tongue around him as you sucked his member with a fierce determination to please. He believed this was the closest to heaven he would ever be; you, his personal fallen angel at his feet, his cock in your mouth.

Shu thought you were perfect just like this; doing all the work as you fucked your mouth on his cock, giving him your all as he sat back, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the pleasure you were providing. You were so good for him, such a pretty girl. Such an ideal woman, his woman. Further lewd commentary fell from his lips as he prompted you on. He wanted you on your knees for him each night, and you would be. He would make sure that things would stay this way forever now he was so close to having you all to himself. Even if it meant having to fight against his father, even if it meant the most intensive of efforts and having to use all the energy he had stored in his muscles - though he’d never utter it aloud, for you he would do anything.

Even if the only way to keep you would be to commit patricide. You were worth it. Just before his release, he pulled your head back by gripping your hair forcefully causing a pained yell to escape from you, your voice full of physical anguish that set off a primal need within his chest. “That’s enough.” He then lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “Ride me.” You gulped back the juices in your mouth and shakily stood as your thighs were flooded with slick. “Y-Yes I…” You blushed vehemently as you aligned yourself with his cock, sucking in a sharp hiss as you felt the heat of it against your burning cunt. “I want you to make me yours.” Instantly you sat down, thighs clenched as your walls adjusted to the intrusion, making you cry out in ecstasy. Did you seriously almost orgasm simply from having his length inside of you? You couldn’t be blamed - not when your husband had neglected you. But it was going to be all better now that Shu was here to help you. Just as a good stepson should. “Fuck,” He gasped out quietly, breath falling from his chest. You were so fucking tight he could’ve potentially fooled himself into believing you were still virginal. That was, of course, until he reminded himself that his father stole that honour for himself and elicited underlying rage in Shu. With the buck of his hips he drove himself inside you as you cried out his name, holding tightly onto him, arms tied around his neck as you rode him, clumsily moving your hips and revealing your sexual inexperience to him; the knowledge that his father didn’t seem to take any time cherishing your body like this, lewd and sinful, eased him somewhat because it meant he could be the one to make you completely lose your mind and become his perfect little whore.

Maybe he’d even make you his wife, along the way.

His arms held your waist and he lazily guided the movement of your hips. You were insatiable, rapid. He could tell you wanted to go faster but his strong hands consistently ceased your attempts - he was going to force you to take your time, to truly feel the way his cock filled your insides, to ensure your walls would take the shape of his dick.

He wanted you to know that he was superior to his father, that no one could ever please you better. He never felt so attached to anyone prior to you, you did something to him. Something dark. Enchanting. And he was never going to let you go after this. By giving your body to him, you have given yourself in your totality.

Even if you didn’t know it quite yet, or didn’t fully apprehend the consequences sex with him would bring.

Your whines became far more desperate with each blunt thrust. Slow, steady but forceful; Shu’s cock reached into the deepest parts of you, lovingly rubbing your cunt. It was indisputable that he was focused on your enjoyment as much as he was on his - it wasn’t anything like what sex with Karlheinz was like, he was self-gratifying and solely cared about his own high, Shu (much to your surprise) paid attention to your smallest reactions to ensure this was as great for you as it was for him. His fingers delved below and started to mercilessly torment your clit, electricity flying through your spine and cunt clenching as more love juices were produced, soaking his cock and helping to lubricate the thrusts.

He wanted to show you how mindblowing sex with him could be, to show you he could love you in ways no one else ever could. In the eyes of his brothers, especially in Reiji and Ayato’s point-of-view, he was the one who got everything; the golden, careless heir. But they did not and would never understand that he had everything he didn’t want. His entire life the things he truly yearned for were stolen from him, his happiness, his innocence, his friends and beloved companions of human and animal kind; destroyed, ruined, killed. It reared his indifference to the material goods he possessed for they held absolutely no value of their own. And now there was you. You, you, you. Sakamaki Shu knew that, without a single shred of disbelief, he would happily give up all of this if it meant he got to keep you. All the wealth and grandeur and power that his position brought was worthless in comparison to his beloved whore whimpering above him as she impaled herself on his cock.

“S-Shu,” You moaned out into his ear, “Fa...faster, please,” You choked back spit as you made feeble attempts to catch your breath, the intense friction between your joined bodies making it difficult to think. It wasn’t as rough or primal as you initially thought it would be like, it was...better than that, intimate. Was this what they mean when they say sex can be ‘making love’? This closeness between bodies as they become one, the heat and passion in the air and bouncing breasts and thighs clasped around one’s lover? It wasn’t fucking - it was so much more. A proclamation of love, even, though you could never dare and utter that belief out loud. His self-satisfied comments, “Hm,” He playfully paused completely, making your eyes widen as you stared at him with desperation for him to continue, to let you reach your climax. Your nails scratched his back like a needy brat as you cried out pleas, “Please - please Shu, I need you to keep going I-” You swallowed thickly, blinking wildly as your core ached without movement and he kept your hips down, unable to fuck yourself on his dick regardless of how hard you tried. “Say you love me.” “W-What?” You gasped out, sweaty and needy but with enough common sense to know that saying something like that to him - even if it was true - would seal a secret deal between lovers, it would open all the nightmares of your very own Pandora’s Box.

But you loved him - you did, somewhere along the way you became enamoured by your stepson and now he was inside of you, fucking you with a tenderness that made you sure that he must love you, too. “I…” You smiled weakly, genuinely. You pulled back ever-so-slightly, (e/c) eyes sinking into his. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that he was finally permitting you to see; he trusted you with his heart, you could see that now. Your hand stroked his cheek, his hard dick still throbbing inside of you (you knew he wanted to keep going but held himself back, resolved to get what he wanted out of you). He melted into the caress, your hands were soft as angel feathers. “I am in love with you, Sakamaki Shu.” Despite the arousal that filled your mind you earnestly tried to convey the true depth of your affections for him and it seemed to awaken the beast of passion as he soon started to bounce you up and down his thick, throbbing member at a speed only vampires could achieve, determined to claim your womb for his own.

It wasn’t hard to notice your maternal longings, your desire to baby the boys despite their inherent aggression towards you all but proved it. And if was a baby you wanted, well...who was he to deny you of that right? His hushed grunts only sent you further into ecstasy - You had the power of feminine sexuality over him and it gave you somewhat of a power rush. It was paradise - not worthless fucking like animals - but true divinity here in his arms, where you felt appreciated and loved and as though you finally had a raison d’etre - You wanted to be his so badly it caused you physical anguish but you were his if only for the moment, connected to him so snugly. “I love you,” You sobbed out as tears welled in your eyes from the intense satisfaction and your own emotions coming to the surface, “I love you, I love you,” Each word sent Shu into a brand new dimension of rapture. You loved him, you loved him - more than anyone else in this world. If binding your bodies together didn’t officially make you his your whimpering confessions just did. The urge to impregnate you with his seed only grew with every passing moment as you mechanically moved in perfect timing to his thrusts, nails once again clawing at his flesh. “That’s a-” He inhaled sharply, stopping mid-moan, “That’s a good girl,” He breathed heavily, you felt so perfect on his dick, his personal cockslut, the love of his life, stepmother and soon; the mother of his children. “F-Fuck you’re going to look...fucking amazing,” He sighed out as he felt your fluttering walls try their hardest to milk him, “When you’re swollen with my troublesome brats, heh…” He could only smugly smile at your immediate reaction to the statement being to clunch down on him, tightening as if your womb was begging him to cum inside, to fertilise your pussy and breed you over and over. “Pregnant?” You exhaled out, teary-eyed as you locked your eyes with him, fucked out to the high heavens with sweat causing your hair to stick to your reddened forehead and lipstick smudged with perky, puffed lips. “Yo-You want to get me pregnant…?” The timidity of your voice betrayed your excitement. Logically you wanted to escape, to push him away and scold him for even suggesting such a thing - you couldn’t become pregnant with his child! It was atrocious enough that you were currently having this affair with him, your stepson, but to be bred by him was in a category all of its own - truly disgusting.

No matter how much your husband neglected you he didn’t deserve to for his wife to not only cheat on him with his own son but to be inseminated by him - but the inner beast within you was wanton, a silent whisper in your mind that tried to persuade you to surrender fully to your hopes for motherhood, to allow this man in front of you, this beautiful vampiric prince, to fill you with his seed and claim you as his bitch, his bride; to be stolen from the man you originally wed and live your eternity as Shu’s whore. “I-...we can’t, Shu! We-” Morals renewed, you tried to get through to him, “Please-” “Shut up.” He ordered and you instantly did as told, being the good girl that you were. “Don’t lie to me. You’re loving the-” He moaned, “-idea of...of my children growing inside of you. I felt you tighten up at the notion, you’re such a fucking lewd woman. My lewd slut.” You hated yourself because you knew he was right; it was true. You wanted this so badly, to give birth to his kin, to feel your uterus painted white with his cum. Primal needs craved relief. “No, we...we can’t, I...don’t…” You choked on your words as he kissed you roughly, his thumb on your clit twirling and pulling until you were unable to form anything more coherent than mindless stutters. “S-Shu! Fuck, fuck, fuck I...I...I love you! I do! I do, please I just...I want-” “What do you want, pretty whore?” “...I want, I w….want your cum! I need it, I need you to fill me up and get me pregnant!” The last remainder of your will crumbled under the pressure of your sudden orgasm. ‘I’m so sorry, Karl…’ you thought bitterly as amazement overtook you, making you screech in the midst of the night in the moonlight, squeezing the lifeforce out of your stepson’s dick. Shu groaned and laughed in dark victory as you came undone around him, biting into his neck instinctively mid-orgasm. The sharp sensation was enough to push him completely over the edge.

Your tongue lapped over his neck, sipping the blood that flowed with delicious fervour as the heat of his semen poured into your deepest depths, coating your womb with his lust. Once you pulled away you felt almost faint from the intensity of your love-making, concupiscence fading as the realisation of what you just did hit you in full force, causing your eyes to open. “Shu..oh fuck, I...we...just--” You squealed and tried to hop off but he kept your hips forced down, still inside your leaking cunt despite slowly growing soft. “No.” Shu was serious, now, eyes grave. “You’re not running away. You,” He exhaled, bringing your lips closer to his, “Are mine.” “Shu-” The distance between your lips was closed as he fought with your tongue. Your heart yearned to return his kiss and despite the inner war ongoing within your soul you did, tongues dancing in the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled away he smiled.

And you felt yourself smile too, hand travelling to the spot below your stomach but above your cunt. “You’re mine now, troublesome woman.” You laughed, nodding and kissed him again. The conflict within you wouldn’t fade, and you were terrified of what might happen now to yourself and to Shu. But maybe it won’t be that bad. It was only one time - you can surely find some form of birth control to ingest before the next time, and he’d never have to know. It was...one time, so you shouldn’t get pregnant this time...right?

Somehow you felt proud - proud to have his cum flowing from your core, to know it’s his seed that potentially is currently fertilising you and not your husband’s. You did feel authentically guilty but the guilt made you more aroused. Karlheinz didn’t deserve...this and despite that here you were, and the worst part was you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop anytime soon, there was no point in vowing to yourself that this would be the ‘last time’ because you knew that the moment he came inside you you were already addicted to him. The child of your lover...realistically it was an awful, unspeakable idea but a sense within you wanted to go through with it, to allow yourself fertility, to fully become his.

Little did you know you would have no choice in the matter.

531 notes · View notes

babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

the Other Lane.

pairing : Clark Kent x Reader

requested by: @dashingcavill [Hope you like this! 💛]

warnings: Angst with a happy ending, and a lot of fluff in the end.

A/N: Ah, I'm really sorry I couldn't help but put some major angst in here, but I swear the ending is happy and I added the right amount of feels and fluff to make it hurt less. 💛

[The Masterlist]

You often wondered if you were born to your parents only to become a commodity that could be compared to your sister, Lois , at all times. Yes, the two of you were different, she had glamourous blonde hair and sparkling blue irises that made her strike out, while you had sombre [Y/H/C] hair and dull [Y/E/C] eyes that peeked out from the tint of your glasses. If the glasses weren't enough to fit you perfectly into the category that was termed as 'nerds', the fact that you loved to bury yourself into mounds and mounds of books, and literature was sure to fit you into that bill. All that comparison, but that didn't lessen the bond that you shared with Lois though.

However, things slowly started changing, the dynamics messing up when Clark Kent came into your life, as a friend and as a colleague.

Lois worked as a reporter for Daily Planet, and you, well you were mostly working in the background, struggling to make a run with your tiny little column on relationship advises. It wasn't like you were any less intelligent, but maybe you just were okay with how everything was going.

It didn't mean that there weren't times at all when Lois made you secretly jealous. To be fair, it didn't bother you when you heard stories of how Lois got herself into trouble yet again, with none other than the Superman came to her rescue. You could still take that, considering the fact that Superman took his duty towards the civilians as his topmost priority, but when you began noticing obvious changes in your sister's behaviour when she talked to Clark, his alter ego; your colleague at work, you couldn't help but start feeling the little pangs of jealousy.

It all began subtly— starting from lingering glances at the workplace, to hands brushing with each other's, almost innocently, yet the two of them had a sparkle in their eyes when it did. At first, you decided to ignore them at work, trying your best to not run into Clark Kent while you were in your office building. The reason for this was still inexplicably strange for you. You didn't even know the man that well, yet you could do nothing in your control to keep your budding feelings for him under check. It was like, the more you avoided Clark Kent, the more you began aching to get a glimpse of him.

As the days passed, you realized that your crush on Clark was slowly getting more prominent, and you started feeling scared, dreading if there ever came a day that your secret crush on him with finally be out. To top it up a notch, you wondered how Lois will react, knowing well aware that there was something blooming between the two of them, although she had never admitted this to you herself. Also, you kept hoping that whatever this was, between Clark and Lois, it was maybe all in your head and that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't even true, and you hoped it wasn't.

Soon, days grew into weeks and weeks flew by as long months, and you realized that what you felt for Clark wasn't just a silly crush, but you were actually falling in love with the man. It was the littlest things that he did that made your heart melt. You would, sometimes, run into him in the cafeteria, where he would be filling up his mug of coffee. He was a gentleman, he would smile and greet you warmly, your eyes meeting his sparkling bright ones as he would move out of the way and insist that you went ahead first. You would often end up taking elevator rides with him, and he would make sweet small talks with you, talking to you about everything, ranging from the weather to a possible alien invasion.

The plan that you had cooked up to avoid Clark Kent went down the drain from those days onwards. Instead, you almost began running into Clark almost everyday. The gossips about Clark and Lois had, by then, died down and you couldn't help but feel relieved, relieved that maybe you had just been dreaming, and there was nothing between Lois and Clark.

"Hey [Y/N], can I borrow your turtleneck? I can't seem to find mine?"

You looked up from the book that you had been binge reading on, flustered and embarassed, as you immediately tossed the book unceremoniously into your blanket. Of course, you couldn't let your sister in on the fact that you were secretly reading the fifty shades series. She would tease the living hell out of you. And then there was the fact that you felt ashamed of the fact that you could practically imagine Clark Kent in your mind as Christian Grey, and it was making you all heated up and bothered.

Lois raised an eyebrow when she saw you red you had turned, "Are you okay? You look like a massive human sized tomato."

"Gee, Lois, thanks?" You mumbled, still reeling from the way she had suddenly barged into your bedroom, as you pushed your glasses over the bridge of your nose, "couldn't bother to knock?"

"Since when do we do these formalities?" She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, and dashed towards your closet, throwing it open as her fingers began working through the hangers, looking for what she was looking for. She was practically messing up your closet, so you sighed and decided to give her a helping hand. Abruptly, you slid out of the covers, forgetting about the novel that you had hidden underneath and the novel suddenly slipped off the side of the bed and fell to the floor, it's covering full on display.

You facepalmed, burying your face into your hands as Lois walked up to the book and picked it up, smirking obviously as she read out the title out loud just to tease you.

"Looks like my baby sister is finally growing her wings."

"Stop it, Lois. Don't embarass me," you grumbled, looking away. Instead, you dashed up to your closet and pushed her to the side, roughly pulling out your turtleneck as you handed it to her.

"Come on, [Y/N]" she laughed, shaking her head, messing up her perfectly styled blonde waves as she ran a hand through them, "We all have done this. You're not the only one. Nothing to be embarassed about. It's not like you're watching porn."

"It is technically still porn if I'm reading it," you whispered, watching her as she examined the turtleneck and smiled, as though she had pictured just the best trousers to go with it in the back of her mind as she absentmindedly replied back, "Again, sis, we all have done it."

You noticed the way she kept glancing at her phone, with a smile threatening to spill across her features. You raised your eyebrows and smacked your lips together, blinking curiously. She finally looked up and saw that you were staring at her so she grinned, "Guess who has a date tonight?"

"A date?" You asked, absentmindedly.

"Clark asked me out, [Y/N]. He is taking me to this really good Thai place that opened up in the suburbs and I just couldn't decide on what to wear!! This will just go perfectly with my jeans."

It happened so suddenly, but it still did. You felt like someone had just ripped your gut out with bare hands. You suddenly felt empty, was an understatement. You suddenly felt strange and cut off, and everything around you suddenly felt cold and distant and gloomy. You looked up at her, your earlier warmth having dissipated into a cold, dark look and you gave her a smile, biting your lip, "That's great, Lois. Have fun."

Lois noticed the way your face fell, but she couldn't understand or take the hint. She kept watching as you moved away, turning your back towards her and didn't utter another word. She parted her lips, wanting to ask her what had gone wrong suddenly, but decided not to, or rather, keep the discussion for another time. She didn't want Clark to reach before she had even gotten ready. You didn't step out of your bedroom, that night when Lois returned from her date with Clark, and Lois frowned when she saw that the lights to your bedroom were already switched off. You were a late sleeper.

Two months later,

Lois looked up from the article that she had been reading to find you enter the dining room with a breakfast plate in your hand.

"Mornin'," you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you sat down on a chair in front of her, next to your father, Sam Lane. Your father looked up from the newspaper that he was reading, and glanced at Lois who shrugged her shoulders in response and he cleared the throat.

"Honey, don't you think you've been locking yourself up in your room for long now? When was the last time you actually did something that didn't involve either the bed, or your office desk?" The cutting crispness in his voice was enough to slice through your heart, but weirdly, you felt nothing, ecen when you heard Lois gasp and mumble something to her father in protest.

"What do you want me to do, dad?" You asked, sipping your juice, your eyes fixed to your plate.

Ignoring you, Sam turned towards his elder daughter as he narrowed his eyes at her, his loud, booming voice echoing through your house, "Lois, what the hell happened at work? She just quit? And didn't even give a damn valid reason as to what on earth happened?"

"I don't know, dad. She hardly talks to me anymore," Lois replied.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, wondering when you had become so invisible to the world. You were right there with them and yet they regarded you like you weren't even there.

"It was difficult to get you job at the Daily Planet and look at you, throwing it away for whatever the hell the reason was." Your dad barked.

Your fingers clenched into a fist and Lois visibly tensed. Hurriedly, she stood up and announced that she was leaving. You stood up too, but not for work, but rather to go back to the place that you had locked yourself in for the past two months. When you reached the door, you turned around and regarded your father, mumbling, "Why would you care anyway? You never really did before."

You kicked open your room door and slammed it back shut again as you ran straight for your bed. You were trembling like a leaf trying to detach itself from the tree when you buried your face into the pillow and screamed as loudly as you could into it. You were a mess, a walking , talking, living, breathing mess.

You cried, for almost thirty minutes, until you were out of tears. You then sat up and rubbed your eye sockets, finally taking a deep breath. You were letting Clark and Lois affect you so much, you had forgotten what it was like to live normally. How were you supposed to go on like this? If you wouldn't take a command of your own life again, then how would learn to get back up on your feet? When would you learn to accept that you would never get Clark? He wasn't the one for you.

Feelings are so transient, it's like you can feel them slicing through your insides one minute, and then the other minute, you feel unrealistically numb.

With those sorts of destructive thoughts in your mind, you sneaked a bottle of whiskey that night from your father's liquor cabinet at two am at night. You rolled the window pane and snuck out onto the fire escape until you were climbing up towards the roof the building of your apartment, the bottle in tow.

You fixed yourself on the ledge, using your teeth to twist the bottle cap as you took a swig of it, feeling the warm liquid burn your relentless thirst for relief. Sip after sip, you kept staring at the starless sky, mediating your gaze from the sky down to the glittery buildings.

"Will I ever forget you, Clark Kent?" You whispered, into the thin air, laughing bitterly at yourself as you took the last sip from the bottle before it rolled away. The way the lights glimmered in front of you, and one of two cars drove past your building, looking like tiny little blinking lights from the height you were at, you realized one thing. No matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn’t stop for your grief.

You were lost in a turbulence of your own thoughts, so entangled into them, you didn't hear the soft thud somewhere behind you, neither the sound of the faintest footsteps that got closer to you, with every passing second. You took a sharp breath, and slowly stepped over the ledge, feeling shudders all over your frame as the winds hit you all over you. You footing, however, slipped, a sharp scream erupting from your lips as you fell backwards against gravity, your heart almost stopping.

Someone suddenly reached out towards you, gripping your wrist, leaving you hanging from the ledge, your body flailing in the air.

He pulled you with a jerk towards you, and your body hit his front, your hair falling all over your face partially covering it. You felt intoxicated, so much, that you had almost died by falling off the building but you didn't feel the scare, the only thing you felt was a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Superman growled, through gritted teeth, his eyes sparkling as you jerked you by your shoulders.

"Clark? Is -- that you?!" You slurred, holding on to his cape tight to hold you in place. You were in a weird state of mind, you could see that it was him, but you couldn't figure out if it really was him, or if it was your mind that was playing an illusion on you.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Clark fumed, still holding on to you by the low of your back. He suddenly jumped off the ledge, with you in tow, away from the edge, so the two of you were in the middle of the roof now.

"K-Kill myself? No, I.. I.." You stammered, struggling for the right words but your brain felt frozen.

"Two months, and you don't show yourself. And when I finally see you, you're trying to jump off a fucking building?!" His eyes just then fell on the empty whiskey bottle. He growled, clenching his fists tight as he let go off you and walked up to the where the bottle lay, his cape flying behind him. He bent, lifting it up as he examined it, noticing how the neck of the bottle had your lipstick imprints on it. "And you're drunk. To top it up a notch."

Your nostrils flared in an anger you hadn't experienced ever before, your secret feelings finally crushing you completely, mixed with the alcohol that was rushing through your blood. You growled, like a cornered animal, that was wounded yet didn't want to back down. You pushed him, once, twice, throwing out all your pent up anger and frustration into his steely body like he felt no hurt. You screamed, you lashed, you scratched and you cried, finally coming undone, like beads of a rosary coming apart and scattering all over the floor.

Clark's heart broke at the sight of you. He had always seen you as a strong, happy woman, always smiling for him whenever he saw you at work. And this woman, that stood in front of his eyes right now, was far from it.

"I am not weak! I wouldn't kill myself! You give yourself too much importance, to think that someone would give their life for you!" You lashed out.

You were tired of hitting him like a punching bag. He grabbed you by your wrists, holding them together in front of you, pressed against his chest. He slowly moved, so he was towering over you, his back shielding you from unwanted, prying eyes as he gazed into your eyes, trying to find the answer to where all of this was coming from.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Come on, Lois is worried about you."

You couldn't stop yourself when your hand jerked itself free from his hold, and your palm struck his cheek. There was a crackling noise, of skin against skin, and tears formed in your eyes when the realisation hit you, all the intoxication washing off of you. You had just slapped Superman, a man that could snap your neck by grabbing your throat. Yet, he just stood there, too shocked to even register that you had slapped him right across his face and what was worse, he couldn't understand the reason you had done that. Anger was surfing through his veins, but worse than the anger that he was feeling, he was feeling like someone had pulled his heart out, ripping it to shreds right in front of his eyes.

"Why?" He let go off your other hand, his own palm coming to rest against his cheek as you gave you a look full of hurt.

"Why did you even save me, Clark? You should have let me fall. Atleast, it would have spared me the pain of listening to her name flow out of your lips again."

"Why do you hate her so much? She is your sister, [Y/N] and she cares for you. She worries that you're killing yourself and she doesn't know the reason why--" Clark was losing his temper, slowly but surely. He didn't understand you and that was eating him up.

"The reason why? WHY??! Oh Clark can you stop? And listen to yourself. I love Lois, but she needs to stop trying to govern my life. I'm allowed to feel sad, I'm allowed to feel a fucking heartbreak--" You didn't realise, but your lips were trembling now, your eyes leaking salty tears. You shivered when you felt Clark hold you by your shoulders but you didn't push his arms away.

"Who broke your heart?" He whispered, his voice cracking.

"You're fucking daft for a man who saves the world--" Hissing bitterly , you pushed yourself away from Clark's grip and turned towards the ledge but this time, you didn't try anything that would risk your life. You simply revelled in the cold feeling of the wind striking your tear stained face as you took a punctured breath, feeling Clark's breath on the side of your neck.

"Who broke your heart?" He asked again, but this time it was much softer, and it made you bite down on your lip to hold yourself from breaking into a hysterical crying.

"You did, Clark. You broke my heart." You finally whispered, staring into the abyss in front of you, your eyes cloudy and your throat parched as you continued, your lips trembling, "I loved you. Always did, but you never looked at me. It was always Lois. And it killed me, watching you love her, knowing that you will never love me the way you love her--" Clark let you speak, he wanted to listen to you, for you to let it all out, all those bitter things that you had locked up inside your mind, that was slowly eating you up and killing you from the inside. "I am tired of everyone, for you, for my father and for the world to see me as the Other Lane, as Lois Lane's little sister. My name is [Y/N]. I like to draw although I am shit at it, I can sing in the showers and I hate partying. That is me. I want a normal relationship too, but it seems that the world is against me. I fell in love with one man, and turns out, he isn't even human, he is a freaking superhero from Krypton?"

Clark let out a gruff sounding snort, as he looked down at you. Reluctantly, he reached for a strand of hair that was sticking to your tear coated cheek, removing it and gently tucking it behind your ear. He felt a shudder run down your spine, with just a gentle touch of his hand and he smiled, biting his lip. How was he supposed to tell you what the truth was?

"You remember how we met at the cafeteria every morning ? And I let you take the coffee?"

You nodded, listening to him, trying to control the crying that had now turned to sniffles, as Clark kept speaking.

"And the countless times I ran into that elevator with you and me stuck inside for just two floors?"

"You must have been thinking how weird I was. How unlike Lois--" You began, but you were cut off by Clark's voice.

"I used to wonder if there was anything I could do to make the elevators stop working, so I'd get to spend more time with you. Wretched elevators, not once did anything go according to what I wanted." He mumbled, but he had a small smile playing on his lips, while you just looked on, staring at him in disbelief, wondering if your mind was playing jokes with you once again.

"I thought I would take Lois' help, to you know, figure out if you felt the same way, but you never said anything to her."

"What about the date? Lois and you went on?" You asked.

"Well, I --" he shrug, looking down at his feet, sheepishly, " Lois thought you would confess how you felt for me if we pretended to--"

You were too numb to react; so you just blinked in retaliation. Your blood ran cold, and you suddenly felt light headed. All this while, while you had secretly been pining for Clark Kent to love you back, was it actually the other way round? Was Clark going through the same thing wondering if you felt the same for him?

"That was cowardly." You hissed, through pursed lips, "Trying to pretend to be in love with my sister."

"I was in love with the other Lane," he bit his lip, his face slightly inclined towards you, so he was looking down at you, and you up at him, "I think you are amazing. You are intelligent, and smart. And you're unique. There are these little things I adore about you. The way you greeted everyone whenever I was around-- ranging from the security guard, to the building keepers at the Daily Planet.. the way you forgot to wipe your lips after drinking coffee, and you had this froth all over your upper lip giving you a faint moustache?" He chuckled because you literally let out a gasp, suddenly embarassed.

"Then there were those days you had a bad day and you locked yourself up in your cabin, working all day. I wondered if I should just knock, but I was scared you will tell me off--" he continued, his blues peeking into yours. Your stomach fluttering, you couldn't help but laugh, as though a weight had been lifted off your chest suddenly and held him steady with your hand on his arm. Finally mustering enough courage, you pushed yourself on your toes, and reached up, letting your palm graze delicately over his cheek, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, "I would have never told you off, Clark. Though that's not what is bothering me right now."

"What is ?" He asked, innocently, relaxing under the touch of your thumb.

"You said you're in love with the other Lane, Clark."

His lips creased, slowly tugging upwards into a smile that was enough to make you feel giddy. Superman wrapped a sturdy arm around you and felt yourself being lifted off, until he was practically holding you in his arms, "Mhm, yep? You got a problem, Miss Lane? Or do Kryptonians don't fit the bill ?"

"Oh, hush, Clark. You're such a dork. But will you be.. my dork?" You bit your lip, holding on to him as though your life depended on it.

"I thought... you'd never ask?" He began, unsure of how to properly weave the complexity of his feelings , churn them into words, something only Clark Kent was good at , and not his alter ego, but found himself halted by the soft press of your index finger against his lips and the sweet whisper of your voice against his ears as he held you close.

“I know, neither did I.” You whispered as he clasped your face in his massive hands and gently touched his lips to yours.

Three years later,

This had probably been the longest that Clark Kent had been away from you, his lover, his best friend, his wife-- four months to be exact. Needless to say, he was excited to be able to see you again, to hold you again.

The familiar silhouette of the cottage on top of the hill came into his view, flowers hanging into tiny earthen pots hanging out on the front porch. The freshly painted white picket fence looked beautiful, and inviting as Lois stood with Martha by the gate, both the ladies sipping tea from their respective cups and saucers. They couldn't contain their smiles when they saw Clark, even though he was covered in what looked like grime and blown up alien intestines?

"I don't even want to know what happened," Lois chuckled, while Martha hugged her son and he kissed the side of her cheek before she scrunched up her nose in disgust at how awful he smelled.

"Well, I guess I'll draw you a bath, you two can talk out here until the baths ready." Both Clark and Lois watched as Martha Kent disappeared into the home and he smiled, when Lois spoke again.

"FYI, she is at the orchard, harvesting the apples for an apple pie," Lois gave him a smug look, fluttering her lashes, "Oh don't pretend you don't want to see her. I can see your eyes darting around, trying to find her. I'll be inside, both of you, just come back in for supper."

He nodded, watching Lois leave and slowly, his fists clenched on either of his sides, he found his way into the tiny orchard that his lovely wife loved to spend most of her time at. He fixed himself by the wooden gate, his eyes admiring you from afar, as you stood on your tiptoes and picked out apples, tossing them into the basket that you held in your arm.

"Need help, Mrs. Kent?"

The basket dropped from your hand as you turned towards the source of the voice, your lips parted in shock. Clark's eyes travelled from you down to your beautiful swollen bump that your loose maternity dress was doing nothing to hide. He chuckled at your response as he walked towards you with longer, faster steps while you simply waddled towards him.

"Jesus, Clark-- I thought you'd miss the birth," you cupped your husband's cheeks in between your swollen fingers as he nuzzled his nose against yours, before kissing you.

"How is my monkey?" He brought his palm to rest against your nine month old baby bump, stroking over the fabric as he whispered against your lips.

"Moving around, not letting me get an ounce of sleep," you smiled, letting your fingers rest over his hand that rested against your stomach, "but I cant really complain now, can I? After all the little nugget's got Kryptonian blood running through their veins."

Clark chuckled, his blue eyes crinkling slightly as he knelt down in front of you, his face in line with the base of your bump as he planted a kiss on the curve of it.

"Come on, Kal Jr, will you stop bothering your mom? She needs all the sleep she can before you push your way into the world and steal our goodnight sleeps for a while," you smiled warmly, as you peered down at him, running your fingers through his hair and he looked up at you, planting another kiss against your bump.

You suddenly frowned and looked at the brown mess on your fingers that stank.

"God, Clark? What the hell? Did you seriously take a dive in a shit pool?"

He chuckled as he pulled himself up again and his hand once again found the base of your stomach to lay his hand protectively upon.

"Alien blood. You should have seen the intestines that covered me. It looked like noddles dipped in black bean sauce and meatballs--" You smacked him hard against the chest to shut him up, but instead he began laughing, his laughter rumbling out of his stomach as you began dragging him inside with his stained cape.

#clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #superman x reader #superman x you #kal el x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

859 notes · View notes

omiscurls · 3 years

Note

Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

#kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya headcanons #tartaglia fluff #tartalgia #childe fluff #childe x reader #childe headcanons #childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #gender neutral reader

152 notes · View notes

leo-interactive-fiction · 3 years

Note

Something else I haven't seen before. What would the MC's parent from each background think of the ROs? Who would they approve of and who wouldn't they? I guess in the case of orphan MC, what would E's parents think? Since they kinda maybe vaguely adopted orphan MC?

Hmm, interesting! Since I did the opposite, I should have seen this one coming haha

-----------------------

Storm's comments:

E: "Rose has had that expectation for some time. This is preferable to the alternative. I know you will be in good hands. Rose raised them well."

R: Your father doesn't mince his words, a clear disdain evident, "Valleford. See that you don't take after your father, or there will be less than pleasantries next time we meet."

L: "Scio. I assume your father...?" Storm's lips pull in a small frown as L gives a small nod of confirmation, "I understand if you cannot forgive me. Your father is a significant asset to the Hospian war effort. If I find him, I will kill him."

V: "You've seen enough at your age," Storm says quietly, looking into the hollow glint in V's eyes, "I'm sorry. Those were battles that should have ended with my generation, not yours."

P: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, "I assume your father is well? He does not speak of his second child often, but you seem more spirited than the other. That will make the greater difference when it matters."

M: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, though there's little sentimentality in his voice, "I assume your father is well? He expresses confidence in your upbringing, but I can't say I share the sentiment. You lack something fundamental. Something to drive you to achieve more than what's expected of you."

Ra: Storm's eyes lock onto Raven with a harsh intensity, "Your eyes are filled with blood and you conceal weapons. Tell me your intentions or I will kill you right now."

S: "I admit I am unfamiliar with Orden. The conflict never reached that country, but I understand there are many hardships there already," Storm says, looking the brightly grinning student up and down before his lips pull back in small contentment, "You come out better than most. You have impressive strength."

F: Storm holds a frown as he takes in the vivid green hair, "Many allowed Frenza to claim their distance due to their significant contribution to Triaina's independence, but it doesn't absolve you of everything," he says in warning, "Don't step over the boundaries you've been afforded, or the military will have no choice but to respond."

------------------------------

Scurra's dialogue:

E: Scurra makes a grimace as he recognizes E, "Damnit, you've gone and done it now," he grumbles as he pulls out his wallet and hands a fold of bills to E, "Give that to your mom, will you? She's worse than a debt collector with bets..."

R: "Valleford! There's a name I haven't heard in a while. I knew they had a black sheep in the family, but I guess they couldn't take away the infamous good looks," Scurra chuckles, his eyes lightening reminiscently, "They've put me in a good bit of trouble on more than one occasion. I guess I should consider it a family curse now that MC is involved with you."

L: "Oh, I know those eyes," Scurra says wistfully, "Coming to find the world is a bigger place than you imagined, aren't you? It's even more expansive than that, too. I had that same look when I traveled overseas. I hope MC is being a good guide for you," he looks to you, and gives a knowing wink.

V: Scurra gives a meandering hum as he looks at V, "I've been all around, but I've only seen natural hair color like that a handful of times. They all had your same stare, too." He closes his eyes thoughtfully, "None as young as you though. I hope you're the last I have to see with those eyes. They're a bad omen."

P: "A fiery one, aren't you! Has no one ever told you not to say bad words in public?" Scurra laughs, "You should stop while you can. You're so transparent with your feelings that I almost mistook you for a window, so there's no point to pulling a tough act."

M: A small, genuine smile rises on Scurra's lips as he inspects M, "How interesting. You're so similar to your twin, but you're definitely the better actor. As I think about it, you remind me of MC's mother in many ways..."

Ra: "What are you doing here?" Scurra frowns, staring harshly at Raven. A silence passes and eventually he looks away, messaging his jaw, "Oops, guess I was mistaken. You looked a little like someone I know."

S: "You've got Orden written all over you, don't you?" Scurra says cheerily, "It's been a while since I've visited, but I have to say it gave me the most enjoyment. You all certainly know how to keep it lively."

F: "Your family has always been so hauty!" Scurra covers his mouth to suppress a chuckle, "But I think it would be a mistake to talk down to everyone you meet. I happen to be on great terms with your mother. If I took the opportunity, you two would have been siblings!"

------------------------

Xero's insight:

E: He smiles warmly to E, "It's good to see you again. I'm afraid there was little I could do for you: your mother has already found out about your relationship. I expect she'll make it as embarrassing for you as possible, if I know her well. I hope you're mentally prepared."

R: Xero studies R with a faint curiosity, "I'm afraid your father and I are on less than speaking terms due to some...past difficulties, but I understand you are more than simply your father's child. You may be villianized for your differing viewpoint, but aren't we all? I don't find it is so bad," Xero gives R a knowing small."

L: Xero's eyes widen upon seeing L, then falls into a soft smile, "To think history would repeat so aptly. To see you two now reminds me of my own school days," Xero closes his eyes and releases a light sigh, the smile still present, "I pray you'll also find the same happiness I did, and that it lasts longer."

V: Xero's grip tightens on an file in his hands as he sees V, his voice meticulous, "You are...Wolfe, correct? I'll admit the what I've heard and read of you is...less than appealing, but," he casts his gaze between you and the ex-Jagd member, a faint smile growing on his lips as V steps cautiously between you. "You seem to have a strong sense of duty. I hope you will be a good pillar for MC."

P: He looks disaprovingly, "In my field, words are paired with intention. To speak is to lay bare your thoughts. Why would you neglect your intent by forcing a negative connotation where it doesn't belong?"

M: He seems slightly more on edge than with P, "I don't believe I should offer my approval to someone unwilling to determine a focus. It's a testament to your negligence."

Ra: Xero crosses their arms, his face skeptical,"Marriage? Your lack of detailed forethought and hyperfixation gives me the impression of an unhealthy mind. As it stands now, I will refuse to give you my blessing."

S: "I'm afraid I'm ignorant to everything Orden related," Xero says sheepishly, "I am happy to learn all that I can, though. Perhaps you would like to bring your family at some point? I would be happy to host them here." Xero smiles warmly, clearly unknowing of the chaotic rabblerousing he's invited into his home.

F: "Ah, the royal line," Xero says in recognition of F, "Your own mother was a classmate of mine as well. To think one of her children would grow so closely with mine. Please give her my regards, would you? She has always kept herself closer than others, so I was happy when she took an interest in my friend. He's a lucky man."

---------------------

Mr. Razor's thoughts (if he was alive)

E: He bows his head gratefully, "Thank you for taking care of MC all this time. Your selflessness has saved me a lot of worry, and I doubt I'll have any more leaving them in your hands."

R: Razor's eyes bore a hole through R, "To defy your father was a considerable risk. And not knowing what the academy had planned for you, you still allowed yourself to be incarcerated for an indeterminate amount of time," Razor taps his fingers to his chin, a smile spreading over his lips, "I enjoy those that stick to their principles, but what say we work on your jailbreaking?"

L: "Your father's quite an important man. He's lucky I was never contracted to kill him," Razor says matter-of-factly. A chilling air of silence deafens the room until Razor holds up his palms, "Just kidding. I've never killed anyone. They all died mysteriously."

V: "How's Jagd doing?" Razor narrows his eyes keenly on V, "I'm surprised they were able to bounce back after what I did to them. I guess they filled the empty spaces with whoever was able...or moldable."

P: Razor smiles sadly, "It must be difficult to be given another person's expectations and do well with them. You're like a fish trying to climb a tree. But I enjoy how far up you've climbed despite that. Would you like a reward? I know, how about...your father's weakness?"

M: Razor seems disinterested, "You're not worth the words, Crater. You're nothing more than what your father made you to be: a simple shadow to live vicariously through."

Ra: Razor's eyes have an approving glint, "The one that slipped through the cracks. How very odd. MC's mother was quite odd too. It's an endearing quality, isn't it? Yes, I think you'll make a perfect companion for MC. You've already been looking over them all this time, haven't you?"

S: "Earnestness is one of the first qualities people tend to throw away when faced with hardship. It is impressive to see how you've progressed through your poverty and discrimination so aptly. Perhaps you have a hope that things will get better?" Razor's mouth spreads in a wicked smile, "I do enjoy seeing how people struggle for such a small glimmer of light. I think I'll offer my aid."

F: "Ah, it's always cute to see people play at royalty," Razor smiles at F's exasperated face, "Why do you seem so angry? Do you actually believe your position has meaning? I'll assure you it doesn't," Razor casts a darkening stare towards the royal, "To me, you're no harder to kill than a beggar on the street. The power you attempt to flaunt means nothing, because in the end it does nothing to elevate you beyond a simple street urchin."

----------------------

End

Thank ya for the ask!

#romance options #triaina academy #parents #mc background

194 notes · View notes

letthebodyfall · 3 years

Text

'Preparing one more bolt and hoping to whatever god out there that one of the heroes on shift would find his unconscious body sometime this day, and maybe drop him off at Aleksandra's or to the hospital.'

Masterlist

The married life wasn't the life that Maxwell expected, especially not with borderline supervillain Nightshade. But maybe they could make it work?

The wedding was a small event.

It was a simple courthouse signing with just the two of them in their civilian clothes: with his simple clean cut slacks and cardigan vest over a plain black long sleeve and with her rather flowy floral top and a similar straight cut slacks but in a deep purple rather than black.

There was no kiss, no ceremony; but there were a few of her extended family that whizzed past from who knows where while offering their congratulations.

They walked home with paper bags of takeout and drinks, apparently waiting for a quiet night ahead.

She'd given him his own room, which baffled him.

"I don't want to force you to touch me if you don't want to," he remembered her say, a smile on her face but something in her eyes tugged at his chest.

He let it go.

He was offered an office space but declined, saying he didn't need it. She just shrugged but kept the room vacant anyway.

Nothing really changed in his daily schedule. Fight gangsters in the morning, wannabees at noon, villains in the afternoon and then part time villains before evening, probably after their day jobs.

He'd come home battered and bruised but nothing ever serious.

But still he'd catch a flash in her eyes whenever parts of injured flesh gets exposed.

She never said anything about it except to offer to bandage them up, which he so obliged.

Her touch was tender yet firm, never actually hurting him but enough to keep him in place whenever he fidgeted too much.

"You're used to this?"

Her lips curved upward as she focused on the wrapping. "I have siblings with superpowers."

He flashed a grin before flexing his arm when she let him go. "Good as new."

"Please." He heard the intentional derision as she rolled her eyes. "It'd be less than a scratch tomorrow."

She leaned back, tucked her legs underneath her as she held the mug she's neglected.

He appreciated the quiet. It was different from the sort of quiet that he was used to.

He didn't know what to make of it.

---

It was weird.

Several weeks after his court wedding, some of his regular villains have been.. avoiding him? Whenever he's within thirty feet of them, they either visibly fluster and leave, make a shitty excuse about forgetting to walk the dog/cat/raccoon/fish, just straight up throw themselves down from the top of a building or moving vehicle, or god forbid all of the above.

It hurt his feelings, not gonna lie.

It didn't help that from the corners of his eyes he would see one of them.

Sometimes it was a glint from a loose object, soft tinkling of bells, the swishing of a sleek black cloth, or a flash of violent neon that gave him a short burst of a headache.

He's heard of crazy in-laws but god damn.

---

Voltage was surrounded yet again but a group of rather brave or stupid villains from the neighboring city.

"Been a while since I've beaten up a pretty hero." The man had the head shaped like an egg and a face so scarred it was difficult to discern if he had a face or had a print of a game of pick-up sticks plastered on as a mask.

The encounter took too long. Normally fights like this would be over in minutes but it's been nearly an hour and he's only managed to deal with four of them.

Persistent fuckers.

Eyes level at each one of them, the bloom of pain in his left arm was starting to fade and the tingling to start. He knew it was going to be useless in a couple of rounds.

"You're not my type, unfortunately." He hissed as his left arm cackled with a bright burst of lightning before fizzling out. Great.

Egghead snorted, eyes glinting as he and his similarly unpleasant companions moved a step, then another, hands tightly gripping makeshift weapons such as the revolutionary villain weapon: a mangled bat with rusty nails embedded on it.

Flexing his good arm, Volt knew he had one shot at this.

With a sudden burst of energy, he ducked, weaved, and flipped a goon with such agility that none of them anticipated the massive wave of electricity that surrounded the alley.

Heaving a breath, he felt the acid of his bile creeping up as he coughed, his energy quickly fading.

Voltage knew that if he wanted to keep his dignity as a hero, then he wouldn't allow himself to get killed by a fucking bat with nails on it.

He'd rather drink Savillon's coffee, goddammit.

"Fuck."

He turned, growling when he saw a one, and then three of them standing, their faces furious as they gauged the carnage between them.

"You're dead, Pretty Boy."

Gathering up the remains of the weapons and pieces of broken glass, Volt knew that if he didn't deal with this sooner, he's probably end up in medical leave again.

He didn't want that, obviously.

Preparing one more bolt and hoping to whatever god out there that one of the heroes on shift would find his unconscious body sometime this day, and maybe drop him off at Aleksandra's or to the hospital.

He could feel his hairs stand on end, the way they always do whenever he lashed out a particularly powerful blast, when WHAM-

Silver flashed in his eyes as two lightning-fast creatures tumbled and flipped over the brutes with such grace and finesse that no one had the time to react to the fact that in one fell swoop, they've managed to corral and incapacitate each and every one of the neighboring assholes before knocking them out with knockout gas.

Fists still up, Volt gaped like a fish as two adolescent figures laughed and congratulated themselves with a job well done.

"How-"

The taller of the two looked up, a boy with silvery waves of hair swishing as he regarded him before grinning, the bells attached to his hair and black-and-white jester-like clothing jingling with every slight movement.

"Hi!"

"Bye!" The girl, hair longer with similar bells attached grabbed the boy by the shoulders and disappearing.

Voltage sighed. He really shouldn't meet his in-laws like this.

---

I'm honestly having way too much fun with this lol

This Volt is way different from the Volt I had in my head when I first started thinking of this au for my ocs. It's different but I like it lol.

I'd love to get some suggestions for a series and hero/villain names or maybe some future plot points! Thanks so much for reading this! I appreciate everyone that takes time out of their day to read and comment. I write this for fun and it makes me so happy that it also brings people a little bit of joy <3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Masterlist

Part 5

81 notes · View notes

jiminniethemarshmallow · 3 years

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

374 notes · View notes