#as I tie the knot tighter
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𝐗𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈. Birth of a thought made manifest in human flesh —Dáinsleif's origins—.
◜The Winged One's regret or remorse gave birth to a thought, and as he imagined the path that could have been taken, a new soul was born.◞
As a result of the war waged against the Second Who Came, Nibelung and the ensuing chaos with the leaking Forbidden Knowledge that had to be subdued lest the world was plunged into darkness, thus left with no chances for survival, Phanes' functions were ruined and could no longer use their absolute authority to suppress the original order of this world. In combination with his severely wounded state, the Usurper glimpsed into the wrongs of his deeds and the ones bound to come after if he were to be deteriorated further due to the influence of the Forbidden Knowledge, the loathing and resentments of the world or other forces that could take advantage of his weakened state.
He who loved his human creations more than anyone, and He who cursed the gods to come after to love humans saw himself mired in hypocrisy the moment his creations were at disadvantage the most and were kept in the highest regard no longer due to his own decisions' and that of his closest circle, who should follow his will. Thus in a moment of weakness and lucidity, his regret gave birth to a thought— to a what if. What if things were different, what if his initial desire continued without struggling against the vicissitudes and personal agendas, what if he was stronger to not let himself be corrupted to this point of apparent no return.
What if he could undo everything that made his sacred plans evil.
From these last thoughts was Dáinsleif born as a soul, nurtured in a seed in Irminsul's benevolent aura out of its kindness and will for the world to cease fighting against its own natural orders and to diminish the loathing and resentments of the world that the Primordial One has caused. One day of the countless moons this seed basked under the moonlight and Irminsul's might, he was born in the material world in Celestia as a human, a manifestation of the origins never known by others of Phanes' closest circle until divine's eyes fell upon him. Unrest was among them, yet only muted at the knowledge that they could do with him as they pleased. So repeating the cycle of a once heiress of Celestia that failed in her task to retrieve the Pearl of Genesis and believed herself to be the queen of the kingdom of darkness, Dáinsleif was sent there with the intent to erase his memories of any ties he could have to Celestia.
Thus he would have no connection with the divine, nor his actions would suppose betrayal to any— for it is them who betrayed them first, abandoned him to his fortune. Unbeknownst to them, he who they abandoned would be the one to silence the source of all sins in the deepest abyss and undo the wrongs that began with the greatest Usurper, as well as reweaving all threads of fate.
It would all begin in Khaenri'ah, where Dáinsleif has drifted with a mission he recalls no more, and where he would mature his views of the world, limited at the time as they may be. His love for humanity and pursuit to defend them limitless as the Primordial Sea from where all life is born, even if his personal beliefs about the laws set in the kingdom and its deeds may differ drastically from what it would be expected of anyone who arrives to the kingdom established along the roots of Irminsul.
#◟༺✦༻◞ glimpses in the past of a shattered spirit ┊headcanon.┊#don't perceive me#as I tie the knot tighter#of my the take I've been wanting to implement for Dain#for a while—#this is a great way to justify better#a few descriptive choices#as well as explain a few things#connected to his knowledge#one might think that his fight for humanity would be conditioned by this#and that could be right#but this is all on himself#as he could stray perfectly fine from this line of thinking#from which he was born#if he didn't agree with it#specially as someone who advocates that everyone#should be masters of their own fate#which includes himself#I'll continue to keep vague a few things#such as the big ? of whether he'd be a G.old case#in terms of how long he lived until the Cataclysm#for now this will do#before I go into rambly mode#props to Jace for giving me wings for this take#insecure as I was for even implementing it as part#of my portrayal of Dain 🥺
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tying cherry stems is SUPER FUN actually
#i think its the joy of managing to do it at all#i can tie it fairly easier now but i wanna make the knot tighter#talking
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step dad nanami fucking his step daughter in her school uniform >o<
Tags: stepcest!!! Antis and minors DNI! Unprotected and it’s implied (heavily) he finishes inside <3 I tried to be more inclusive of the uniform :( fucking in front of the mirror ^^ I don’t remember which position it was but I think it was doggy?? 😭
Kento’s hands hold a firm grip on your hips, thrusting his hips back and forth as gasps fall from your pretty glossed lips. Your little school skirt is thrown over your waist, but it’s just a bit too short he was sure you must have gotten dress coded… it barely reached just above your knees, there’s no way no one called it out.
The moment you walked through the door after coming home from school, Kento’s pants grew tighter for whatever reason. Just the way your skirt would flow along with your legs, when you would bend over and teasing him with that slight peek of your cute pink panties… it was too much for your poor stepdad, how could you tease him so much?
“Wah, Daddy!” You cry, clenching onto the messed up bedsheets underneath you. Kento’s thankful your mother is still at work, blissfully unaware of the way his thick cock is stuffing your tiny hole full, so deep in front of the mirror so he could watch the way your little body moves in your school uniform.
“Shh, sweet girl, I know,” he murmurs softly, looking down at your back hidden by your uniform shirt. You’re just too cute in your uniform, so irresistible, and the way your lips stuck in a pout, whining about needing him and all… how could he deny his pretty little stepdaughter of something he knows they both want?
“S’deep, daddy…” you mumble dumbly, stupid on his cock as your juices coat his dick. You look so cute full of his girth, tears in your eyes, crying incoherent sentences.
“Yeah?” Kento laughs, “look, you’re so tiny,” he says affectionately, his hand carefully trailing up to your chest, his fingers teasing your hardened nipples, pulling and twisting at them which elicits moans and whimpers from your throat.
Your tits jiggle at the way he’s fucking his cock into you, one big hand cupping your boob, the other keeping its hold on your hips, moving you back and forth along with him.
“‘M not that small…” you pout before feeling his tip tease your sweet spot. Your jaw goes slack, your eyes roll to the back of your head before the squeeze shut. “S’much, daddy, too much!” You cry and squirm, feeling knots tie in your poor tummy, your legs twitching.
Kento’s hand moves from your tit to your ass, rubbing it gently before landing an unexpected slap to it, his eyes glued to the way you jump slightly from it.
“Poor baby,” he grins, “you can take it, yeah? I know you can, be a big girl,” eager to please your step daddy, you nod, biting back a sob, tears falling from your lash line, down the flushed apple of your cheeks.
His hips are slamming harshly against your ass, bouncing at the impact. Your skirt falls from the waistband back down to its original place, which earns a grunt from Kento.
“Shit… such a pretty girl,” his voice is deep and low, your walls clenching his dick, feelings his veins throb against your warmth.
“Daddy, think ‘m gonna cum!” Your fingers squeeze the bedsheets, grounding yourself to earth. In response to your whine, Kento groans and nods his head.
“Come on, you can do it,” he encourages you, “do it f’me, like a good girl,” and suddenly the knot in your stomach unties itself, all you see is stars everywhere you look, all around the room. Kento’s hips don’t stop even as you’re coming undone, painting his dick in your juices. “That’s my baby, hm?”
It’s only a few more thrusts before Kento’s hips begin to stutter, his breath gradually growing uneven. “Princess,” he sighs, “‘m gonna stuff you full, ‘Kay? Is that alright?” So dumb on your stepdad’s cock, you nod your head, mumbling a barely coherent “mkay, daddy,” as your head buried itself in the sheets.
Kento knows it’s wrong as he fucks harder into you, he knows it’s awful to do this with his stepdaughter, but you’re just too cute to resist..
#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#Kento Nanami x reader#Nanami Kento x reader#Nanami Kento smut#Kento Nanami smut#Nanami smut#Nanami x reader smut#Nanami Kento x reader smut#Kento Nanami x reader smut
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It’s always so fun teasing your fiancé, Nanami, as soon as he gets to work. The first text of the morning is you sending him a picture of yourself in his favorite lingerie, laying in your shared unmade bed, captioned with just how much you miss him already. It only took him a few minutes to read your message and conclude that today was going to be a long day. He texted back a simple ‘No teasing, please my love.’ But that didn’t stop you from trying to get under his skin. An hour later you were taking videos of yourself from all angles to send to him, slowly taking the lingerie off yourself and panning the camera to your cunt, which was getting wetter as seconds passed.
He couldn’t help but plead to any god listening to him that you’d keep sending more of yourself, tease him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Feeling his pant tighten and his cock throb was a tell tale sign that he’d need to bury himself inside of you soon. He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks from the others but he could hardly take it anymore.
Once afternoon rolled around he decided he couldn’t restrain himself any longer. Your phone started buzzing right as you turned your vibrator on, holding it to your aching clit. Nanami spoke quickly, his voice dripping in need and desire. He would be home shortly, he expected you to be ready to take him since that’s what you’ve wanted from him all day long. You made sure he heard what you were doing, moaning to him to hurry up and get home. He breathed out harshly, restraining a moan from his throat. Hanging up the phone with a quick ‘I love you.’, you played out scenarios in your head of what was going to happen when your dear fiancé came home. Images of him fucking you hard and raw filled your brain as you swirled your toy over your clit, drooling over the thought of him.
He got home faster than you thought he would, throwing his coat on the floor and pulling his tie loose, he looked at you with need. Nanami was usually more composed than this when you were about to have sex, but you really got under his skin. He was normally gentle, careful, and full of praises. But in this state he was not. He pulled his belt off in one fluid motion, striding towards you. The sight made you swallow in slight fear of your soon to be husband, his aura was darker than what it usually is. He grabbed your chin as he freed his achingly hard cock, it slapping his abdomen as he pulled it out. He looked down at you with such feral eyes, forcing your mouth open with his thumb he inched his red angry tip towards your tongue.
“This is what you’ve wanted all day, isn’t it? Why don’t you choke on him, yeah? My little slut. You put on such a little show for me, don’t be shy now.”
His voice was low and raspy, his words went straight to your dripping cunt. You took his fat head into your mouth, sucking on it lightly. He sighed out a deep breath, inching himself further into your mouth and down your throat. You looked so beautiful from this angle; choking on his cock, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth and a single tear rolling down your cheek from the stretch. He grabbed his phone from where is laid on the bed and took a picture of you choking on him, before throwing it back to where it was and returning his attention to you. He grabbed a small chunk of your hair and thrusted in and out of your throat, lewd squelches and moans leaving your mouth. He felt his orgasm building up, the knot is his stomach getting tighter and tighter.
He let go of your hair and pulled out of your mouth, he didn’t want to cum in your mouth, he wanted to bury himself so deep and release right into your womb. He pushed you onto your back onto the bed and promptly had you flip o your tummy and arch your back to him. He leaned close to your sopping pussy and licked a fat stripe up from your clit to your entrance, making you clench on nothing. He groaned at the sight, pumping his cock in his fist as he got it ready to stuff you. He grabbed your hip as he positioned himself to your entrance, slowly sinking in inch by inch.
A moan of relief left the both of you as he buried himself to the hilt in your cunt, your gummy walls sucking him in and squeezing him. He pulled almost all the way out, leaving his tip in and slamming his hips to your ass, making a scream moan leave your throat. He grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your back to keep you in place as he found a harsh pace to pound into you. Moans and mewls left your pretty mouth as he relentlessly fucked you into the mattress, degraded praises leaving his throat as he moaned. He couldn’t get enough of you, the way you took him so well. You were such a little whore, his and only his little whore. Your pussy was his and only his, you were made just for him.
He pounded your spot until you were dripping cum all over his cock, begging and pleading that the overstimulation was too much. He ignored your pleas, fucking you harder than before to get you to shut up. The knot in his stomach was getting so tight he could feel it threaten to snap, his orgasm being right around the corner. One final thrust and he was spilling himself into you, hot white euphoria clouded his mind as he emptied his cum deep inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, letting go of your wrists he pressed small kisses to your back, circling his thumbs on your hips.
He slowly pulled out, your mixed releases spilling down your legs and his abdomen. He lowered himself to his back on the bed, pulling you to lay with him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, taking in his masculine scent. You liked how rough he was with you, but also loved his soft side. He held you close to him, his calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your back. You laid in silence with him, listening to his heart thud, sleep threatening to take over after your workout. He smiled down at you, seeing the sleepiness in your eyes.
“Sleep my love, I’ll be here to clean you up when you wake.”
He whispered into your hair, pulling the covers over the both of you and holding you tighter.
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#jjk#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sorcerer#spicy content#kamikazii#spicy creator#nanami x you#nanami fluff#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#jjk x you#jjk kento
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a.n.: can't stop won't stop thinking abt seeing nanami in his salaryman suit for the first time (also ty for 1000 followers !!!!)
c.w.: mdni, 18+
The first time Kento told you he’d gotten a job in the corporate world, you were a bit thrown by the news. It would be a complete change from his life working for the high school, although far less dangerous. And with that new job came a new look. Bangs that once draped over his face were trimmed into a 7/3 cut. The all black wardrobe in your shared closet gaining specks of color with button downs and ties introduced.
“Can you come to the living room real quick? I want to make sure my suit looks okay for the first day.” Kento calls you over from the kitchen.
He must’ve gotten it tailored. The way the suit hugs every inch of his body makes Kento look like a work of art. It’s hard not to stare when you have the son of Aphrodite standing in your living room. You’re left awestruck, practically drooling over his new appearance. “We need to talk.”
Kento raises a brow at your statement, confused as to the catalyst for it. He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over the couch. “Is it the hair? They told me it was the common cut for the workplace-” Kento rakes his hand over the fresh cut hair on his head, fingers combing through blond locks as he lifts it up.
“I want to talk to you,” You let your words linger, gazing over his new attire. “in the bedroom.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” You grab his hand, making a beeline for the bedroom. You push him down on the bed and climb on top to straddle him. “Fuck, Ken.” Undoing his tie, you move it to drape around your neck. “You’ve always been attractive but this new look is… divine.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Kento’s ears tint red as he watches your hands make idle work of his shirt. The way his chest hair peeks out as you unbutton drives you wild. Once you’ve gotten the shirt unbuttoned, your hands explore the plane of his chest. “I think I’m obsessed.”
Shifting up to his neck, you let your fingers run through the soft hair of his undercut. Leaning down, you press a chaste kiss to his lips. As your hips grind against him, the fabric of Kento’s pants creates a pleasurable friction on your core.
You move off him for a moment, granting Kento access to shuffle off your leggings. Once they’ve been removed, you take the time to unbuckle his pants and free his aching cock.
Gentle hands guide you down on his cock, resting on your thighs once he’s bottomed out. “You always take me so well, sweetheart.” Kento pulls you back down to him with the tie, biting down on your bottom lip as he kisses into you. Riding him slowly, you melt into the kiss. Sweet and raw. The smell of sweat and sex tinge the air.
As you take him, you mutter sweet nothings in his ear. Kento elevates his hips, allowing his tip to nudge just where you need him to. And you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach as his hands guide your movements. A bubble about to burst. “Ken, ‘m close.” Warm walls clamp down on him and he knows he won't last much longer than you.
You hit that apex quickly. Shockwaves of pleasure roll over your body as you moan into his mouth. You collapse into him as he reaches his high, stuffing you full of his seed with a quiet grunt. "Did so good for me honey." His saccharine praises cause a pink blush to tint your tired cheeks.
Kento kisses the crown of your head, strong arms pulling you into him. He looks down at the disheveled state of his clothing, pants clearly marked with the slick of your release. “Y’know I’m probably gonna need to get the suit dry cleaned.” He smiles down at you, holding you tighter as you nuzzle into his chest.
“Is that an invitation to do this all again?” You mumble, tired eyes smiling up at him.
It's Kento's first day as a salaryman, and you decide to send him a little treat to soothe his nerves. You snap a photo of yourself baking in the kitchen, one of his ties once again draped around your neck. You send it to him and caption it ‘Serious Business.’. Kento’s phone pings and he slips off to the restroom to check it during his break.
He examines the image, how flour stains your cheeks and the tie is wrapped loosely around your neck. He curses to himself for being trapped at work rather than home with you. Half hard in the bathroom and palming himself to that sweet look of yours, praying his boner will disappear in time for his next meeting.
He can’t get home soon enough.
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I’m Never Leaving
daryl dixon x fem reader
warnings: just a bit angsty, usual TWD violence and fluff!
summary: you and daryl both realize just how much you love each other after you have a near death experience.
a/n: set in season 11 & let’s just pretend that Daryl knew beforehand about Carols deal with Pamela to pin all the blame on Hornsby.
flashback
“Jesus Daryl, go talk to her.”
“What?”
“You’re starin’ at her like a teenage boy who just saw his first pair of boobies; just go talk to her, she likes you too ya know?” Carol chimed as she looked towards her best friend.
“You don’t know tha.” Daryl said as he looked at you, catching you smiling as you spoke to Judith.
God you were beautiful to him. He loved everything about you, your smile, your hair, your kind heart.
Truth was, Daryl had no clue how to communicate his feelings towards you, so instead he just kept them to himself and admired you from afar.
“Hey you two.” You suddenly spoke out, causing Daryl to snap back to reality. Carol pulled you into a tight hug, whispering something into your ear which caused you to laugh. You pulled away from her and wrapped your arms around Daryl, causing his cheeks to grow warm.
You were about to speak up but were quickly pulled away from Carol and Daryl by Gracie and Judith.
“I’ll come find ya later okay?” You shouted as you were pulled further and further away.
“Yeah!” Daryl replied, turning to Carol as soon as you were out of earshot.
“What did ya whisper to her?”
“I dunno.” Carol said smiling as she saw her best friend’s face turn red, quickly rushing away before he could question her further.
end of flashback
“Leah I swear to God if there is so much as a scratch on her, I’ll kill ya.” Daryl grunted into the walkie-talkie, rage filling his body as he heard Leah laugh.
“Too late for that.” She said before turning it off.
Leah had been watching you lot for a bit before she decided to attack, she figured since you and Maggie were so close she’d use you to lure Maggie out.
So there you were, tied to a chair in some rusty old cabin, Leah twisting her knife further into your leg, causing you to scream out.
“Where is Maggie hiding?!”
“Even if I knew where, which I don’t, I wouldn’t tell you shit.” You spat as you looked up at her.
“Wrong answer.” She said before pulling the knife out and pushing it back in. You screamed out in pain as she did this, your leg throbbing as well as your head from where she hit you earlier.
“I’ll ask you one more time, where the hell is Maggie hiding?”
“FUCK YOU!” You screamed. You could see the anger flooding into her eyes, now you pissed her off.
Her fist connected with your jaw, causing your head to fall back. You stayed still for a while because unbeknownst to Leah, you had been working the knot on the rope she used to tie your hands, and it was almost loose.
Just before she could punch you again, your hands were free and you were lunging towards her. You fist jammed into her jaw causing her to stumble. You grabbed ahold of her head and slammed her against the wall. She fell against the wall, giving you time to gain your strength back. Before you knew it she had managed to get up and lunge a shard of glass into your abdomen.
Your body fell back at the force, her body on top of yours once again. Her hands made their way around your neck, crushing your windpipe.
“Since you’re not helping me, you’re of no use to me.” She whispered out as her hands wrapped tighter around your throat.
You could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness, your vision going hazy.
You felt the little air leaving your lungs, your body wanted so badly to give up but you knew you couldn’t let Leah find Maggie or worse, find Hershel.
So you used the little strength you had left and ripped the knife out from your thigh and jammed it into her neck. Her eyes widened as blood seeped from the wound, her hands let up from around your throat as she moved them to her neck, causing you to take a deep breath in. You kicked her body to the side and jammed the knife into her throat again,
and again
and again.
You could hear her choking on her own blood as her limp body lie to the side. You quickly moved towards her and pressed the knife into her skull.
Your body fell back, your energy drained and your mind fuzzy as you passed out.
Daryl held his gun up as he neared the cabin, his heart racing as he stepped inside. His eyes fell on Leah’s lifeless body, eyeing the knife in her skull. He then moved his gaze until it landed on your limp body.
Panic rushed through his body as he crouched beside you, tears pooling in his eyes as he shook your body, trying to get you to wake up.
“C’mon you gotta wake up f’ me, please!” He yelled out, his arms wrapping around your frame as he lifted you up.
Maggie, Aaron and Gabriel’s eyes fell on your body as Daryl carried you out, Maggie’s face going pale as her hand went up to her mouth to quiet her cries.
“We needa get her to the Commonwealth now!” He yelled out as he moved past them.
He had already lost so much he couldn’t lose you too.
Daryl clung to your fragile figure as he carried you inside the Commonwealth, rushing towards the hospital.
Tomi moved towards you and Daryl, trying to asses your wounds as he placed you down on a hospital bed.
Daryl placed a kiss onto your forehead before Tomi and some nurses took you, immediately rushing you into an operating room.
Daryl sat back, his head in his hands as he ran through every memory he had with you, tears cascading down his face as he thought about losing you.
He was quickly pulled from his thoughts by Carol and a few others approaching.
“She’s going to be okay Daryl.” Carol whispered as she wrapped her arms around him, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.
It felt like forever before Tomi came back, nodding to Daryl to allow him to go see you. He rushed towards your room and a breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you were okay.
He brought a chair next to your bed and sat down, taking your hand in his and squeezing it.
“I love you so much.” He whispered out, bringing your hand to his lips and placing a kiss to the back of your palm.
The blind lights of the hospital room hurt your eyes as you woke up, your throat and mouth dry as you tried to swallow.
Your eyes adjusted to the light as you scanned the room, your gaze falling on a certain someone asleep in a chair next to your bed.
You smiled as you looked at Daryl, his perfect long hair covering his face as he slept. You were oh so in love with him and almost dying made you realize that even more.
You adjusted yourself in the bed, sitting up as you reached for the plastic cup on the bedside table. You winced in pain as you twisted your body, reaching out for the cup. Your fingers grazed the cup ever so slightly and you almost had it but it slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor.
“Shit.” You whispered out as you sat back against the pillows, a defeated sigh leaving your lips.
The sound of the cup falling caused Daryl to open his eyes, rubbing them as he adjusted to the lights.
You noticed him move in the chair and groaned to yourself as you woke him up from hismuch needed sleep.
“Sorry for waking you up.” You spoke out causing Daryl’s eyes to widen. He rushed up to stand close to you looking down at you and smiling.
“You’re awake.” He said out, reaching out for your hand.
Your fingers intertwined with his, smiling up as he placed a kiss against your forehead.
“I thought I- I thought I lost y-”
You quickly shushed him as you brought his face down to yours and placed your lips against his. Daryl was taken aback by your action but nonetheless kissed you back. His mouth moved against yours before you pulled away out of breath.
“You didn’t lose me okay? I’m not leaving you any time soon old man.” You said, causing Daryl to let out a laugh.
He leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips, whispering a faint “I love you” against your lips. You kissed him back, your lips moulding against his lips almost as if they were made to fit his, before whispering, “I love you too.”
my first daryl fic go easy on me 😣
let me know if anyone wants to be added to a tag-list for daryl fics specifically or to a tag-list for the TWD men in general :)
please like and reblog if you enjoyed as it helps a lot 🩷
#daryl x reader#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon fluff#twd daryl#daryl imagines#daryl dixon smut#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#the walking dead#maggie rhee#aaron twd#twd gabriel#carol peletier#norman reedus fluff#norman reedus#daryl dixon angst
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i used to love jokes about canes/crutches users referring to them as their additional legs. but THIS IS NO JOKE ANYMORE.
i almost feel every step of my cane. my wrist? i feel it's more of like my knee. what do you mean i have two legs? no, i have three. yes, third one starts at my shoulder, why?
oh, i need two free hands for something... *sarcastic thought* yeah let me just pull out my second arm. *realizing i actually do have a second arm* oh well...
sometimes i just don't realize i'm holding a cane. i don't realize i can stop holding it. my fingers are glued to the handle, thanks for asking.
today, i was sitting down and thought that i needed to re-tie my shoe laces. i made knots tighter on first shoe. second shoe. then i got puzzled because where's the third shoe.
yes it IS my third leg now. she's adopted.
#cane user#chronic pain#cripple punk#disabled#mobility aid#physical disability#chronically ill#c punk#cpunk#mobility aid user#using a cane#physically disabled#chronic illness
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Blow off steam | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 4
summary: aftercare
warnings: light angst (?), self-dubt, fluff (romantic sex at the end), Alexia feeling guilty, reader is confused by how he feels after the intercourse.
words: 2.9 k
I turn on my back.
She gets between my legs.
Her body on mine, her breasts against mine.
Her nipples are straight against my skin.
Is she horny?
Her thighs are between mine, forcing me to keep them open.
I look at her lips.
They compose a faint smile.
The teeth that bite the lower one.
Ale handles the tie that kept my hands attached to the headboard of the bed for a few minutes in an attempt to untie the knot, probably now very tight due to the constant tugging.
She sighs in relief when she succeeds.
She throws the tie on the ground.
Her arms grab my wrists and kisses the marks she left.
They're sore like the rest of my body.
The orgasm was overwhelming.
It invaded every millimeter of my body.
A level of ecstasy I'd never felt before.
She asks me how I am.
My eyes are clouded with excitement.
From fatigue.
From exhaustion.
As much as I enjoyed it, it was definitely a long and difficult intercourse.
A intercourse to which I am certainly not used.
My butt starts to ache from too much spanking.
My breasts burn here and there, just like my pussy and inner thighs.
How many times has she spanked me?
I point my eyes into hers.
"I... good," I whisper.
She kisses my lips.
The forearms on the sides of my head on which she rests.
"You're the best girl in the world, you know?"
I blush, looking away.
How do you alternate that sadism with this kindness?
Is she sincere?
My cheeks are on fire.
Her fingers touch light them.
"Hmm?"
I nod hesitantly, leaning against her hand.
"Thank you, Ale" I whisper with a light and existing voice.
The body is still caught up in contractions from time to time.
I squeeze my thighs instinctively, pressing her body against mine.
She asks me again how I feel as she kisses my cheek a few times.
I'm fine.
Stunned.
Tired.
But fine.
Personal Slut.
I chase away intrusive thought, trying not to dwell on it.
Not to reflect on the meaning.
On the words.
On what it can mean.
Why if I liked it so much, do I feel so humiliated by these two words?
Why just from them and not also for the other time she called me slut?
She smiles at me kindly, lovely.
Did she love calling me like this?
Does she think that i am just it?
"Maybe it would be better if you put some oil on the redness that you have almost everywhere on your body, what do you think? Or tomorrow it's going to hurt more."
She chuckles at the thought of what she's done.
I hold her in a hug.
I don't want her to go away.
I don't want the physical contact to end.
I want her to stay here.
With me.
That she hugs me.
I need her to stay here.
To know that she's sincere.
That she loves me.
That she cares.
That I've been good.
That I'm not just a slut, just her personal slut.
That I means something for her that is not only sexual.
Why have I so many doubts?
My legs wrap tighter around her torso.
"Stay here a little longer - I hesitate - please"
She smiles not far from my lips.
"I'm not leaving, baby, I'm staying here"
Personal Slut.
I nod hesitantly while I hide my face in her neck.
It was all so passionate.
So rough.
So dominant.
I didn't expect it.
Was I ready?
Was I as good as she says?
Maybe she says it to make me happy, to make me quiet and more open to do this other times.
To be her personal slut other times.
I asked her to do this, to blow off steam on me, so why do I feel so insecure?
I close my eyes shaking my head, the forehead rubbing the skin of her neck.
"C-can you kiss me?" I ask hesitantly after moving my face away from her neck.
Like I'm scared she'd punish me again.
That she will be mad.
That she doesn't want.
She smiles, innocently kissing me several times. Lips that touch lips.
I'm looking for the deeper, more romantic, kiss.
The type of kiss that will infuse me her love.
She keeps the pace slow.
Lovely.
Kind.
Her tongue touching mine.
My hands end up in her hair.
I touch them hesitantly.
As to massage your scalp.
After a few minutes she rests her forehead against mine.
"The best little girl in the world - she kisses my nose - My little girl"
Personal Slut.
I close my eyes.
Does she really think it?
I tighten my arms around her neck again.
Her head slid next to mine.
"I-I," I sigh, "can you hug me?" I whisp.
She turns the situation and she ends against the mattress.
Half of my body is on her, my shoulder that touches her chest, my leg between hers.
One of her arms is under me, and she quickly moves it on my back, near the other, to close me in a tight hug.
She rests her head on top of mine.
She runs her nails lightly on my skin.
A steady but gentle motion.
As she's trying to comfort me.
She giggles when she hears my breath becaming quiet.
Getting slower.
More relaxed.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do.
What should I do?
What should I say?
"My beautiful little girl"
I sigh.
What should I tell her?
She holds me close to her like she knows I need it.
She kisses me again.
"Someone's really tired, huh?" she whispers, teasing me before kissing me again.
I nod against her chest.
I tense my body to stretch it.
The sound of a couple of snaps fills the room and she giggles.
I blush, closing my eyes.
We pass a long time in this way.
Her hands touching my back lightly, my cheek on her chest, my fingers touching lightly her belly.
No sounds, no words.
Just my breath and her breath.
"I'm sorry to have lost control of my words baby - I open my eyes wide - To have lost control and to have gotten too much caught up in the situation"
She kisses my hair.
The tone of voice is low.
Sad.
I tilt my head towards her.
Her gaze is perhaps pensive.
I bite my lip.
Our eyes set.
"I shouldn't have gone so far with degradation, not when it was the first time we did this kind of thing in this way - she pauses, her eyes almost veiled by guilt - Not when you asked me praises too"
Is she sad?
Mad with herself?
What should I tell her?
I don't speak.
I don't try to comfort her.
Am I selfish for this?
"I don't think those things baby... That you're a slut or the other things, you know it, right? - I nod against the mattress - The whole situation has taken hold of my head... It shouldn't have happened."
I bite my lip harder
It was not the first time that she called me slut or whore during sex.
It happens at least three times every time we do this type of sex.
But maybe... this time, this time she called me in this way too much time.
Or maybe because she was so rough and fake-lovely ad never before.
"I... - I hesitate - I really liked it"
"But?" she whispers.
Is she insecure?
Her?
I look away.
"I didn't expect it," I whisper in a faint voice.
Will she get angry?
Will she be upset?
The image of her eyes calling me in that way by squeezing my neck is heavenly.
But it's a bit scary at the same time.
Will she be disappointed?
"I loved this. I-I asked you for it before, I wanted it - I say it hoping she understands that I am alluding to the intercourse itself - It was so perfect"
I lick my lip.
I'm searching for the words, my mind still clouded by orgasm.
"I... I didn't think I could like it so much the degradation"
My cheeks burn with the humiliation of admitting it.
Am I so submissive?
So needy?
Is this normal?
"Maybe we could do it again in this way," she says hesitantly, "Without that word or so rough."
I nod hesitantly.
"What you want Reina, you always know what I like," I chuckle at her expression, "I-I would have used the safeword if I hadn't... you know, liked it"
She nods in a trance.
"You've asked me so many times, the safeword, so I knew you'd stop in case"
It's so hard to admit that I trust her.
Do I really trust her or am I trying to consoling her, to please her?
She smiles at my words, knowing how complicated it is for me to say it normally.
She kisses my forehead.
"My perfect little girl"
"Your perfect little girl... masochist little girl"
She giggles knowing I'm repeating her words.
"And innocent at the same time" she chuckles, "I'll never understand how you can be as ambivalent as you are amor."
I smile embarrassed.
I don't know.
Have I to justify it?
"If I continue to rub your back for a while, will you let me put the oil on you?"
I sneer.
"Maybe," I say, amused.
"Baby," she admonishes me.
I laugh.
A shy, but pure, laughter.
I nod.
"Yes, Ale".
I turn, my belly against the mattress.
Her nails run lightly against my back's skin.
"You're so beautiful baby - I gasp - So perfect"
I tighten the pillow.
Does she really think so?
She crawls her fingers long over my spine and I arch my back reflexively.
“Someone's ticklish, huh?” She teases me and then kisses my shoulder.
"You're all red baby, I really don't think you won't be able to sit down tomorrow"
I close my eyes in embarrassment.
"Your butt is so red that only adrenaline prevents you from feeling pain"
I moan.
She kisses my shoulder again a few times.
Light, kind, kisses.
"Please, forgive me, little one"
I turn my head towards her.
"For what?"
"For exaggerating"
It's like she's in a trance, in a world of its own.
Does she feel guilty?
Does she need to talk about it?
"With words, with spankings, with orgasm denial... with everything"
Did she not liked it?
"I liked Ale, really - she sighs - I deserved the punishments... And then I didn't use the safeword."
She smiles against my skin.
"D-did you liked it?" I ask hesitant.
Does she wanted more from me?
Does she not liked it because she was expecting more?
She kisses my shoulder.
"I loved it, baby, don't think something different - she bites her lip - But I shouldn't have exaggerated so much, I exaggerated and I hope you can forgive me"
She breathes deeply a few times.
"Luckily there are two days off and you don't have press work until after Christmas."
I nod.
We remain silent for a few minutes.
My eyes are closed, my breath is calm, relaxed.
Her fingers move over my body.
I pant every now and then.
She kisses my hair.
"Can I put oil on you, baby? I don't want it to get worse."
I nod.
Why is she so worried?
She gets out of bed.
I groan at the lack.
"Will you be back soon though?" I ask, frightened by her absence.
"Of course, baby"
If she thinks I'm ridiculous for being so worried about her absence, she doesn't point it out to me.
And it's like she said, a few minutes later she's back.
She sits to my right.
"Can I smear it on you?"
I agree.
She pours some of it on my ass and then smears it.
The touch is gentle.
Lovey.
She brushes against my skin until it's completely absorbed.
"I'm afraid that tomorrow you will have bruises" she whispers hesitantly.
Scared by my answer.
"I deserved it for being a brat" I try to console her while her touch is relaxing me.
She sighs and I don't know if it's because she's relieved or even more worried.
"Can you turn around baby? So I put it all over your front"
I do as she asks, and we both giggle when some of my bones crack.
She pants.
"So Full of My Signs" she whispers, her eyes that are looking all my body.
From my collarbone to my inner thighs.
I look at my body.
It's only now that I realize how many bruises she made.
My chest is full of them, just like my pelvis and legs.
"At least now everyone knows I'm yours and if you forget it, I'll just take off my shirt - I chuckle - Or even take off some concealer"
I try to lighten the mood with a joke, but it doesn't seem to have the desired effect.
Ale continues to look at my body with a lost, assorted look.
"So many bites... so many bruises" she runs a finger along my torso as if to join them by a rope, by an invisible thread, traced by her nail.
I arch my body instinctively.
The hornyness that starts to mount.
"My little girl who loves to be marked," she sighs.
She shakes her head.
"Ale - I call her and wait until she looks into my eyes - I really liked it"
She looks at me for a few moments, trying to figure out if I'm sincere or if I'm saying it to make her feel better.
To calm that guilt that I know is growing in her for the fear of having exaggerated.
She nods and then pours some liquid over both of my breasts.
She spreads it.
Because of the contact with her fingers my nipples become turgid.
I look away in embarrassment.
She smiles, grins, but says nothing.
Then, when her hand goes down, I twitch my thighs.
I moan when it gets to my pubis.
"You're so red here too, baby"
I moan as I lift my pelvis to her hand.
"So insatiable"
She passes the oil carefully around my hips and belly.
I swallow my saliva trying to control the hornyness that is heating my body, and she starts to touch my inner thighs where there are bites.
My attempt failed at the exact moment when they ended between my lips, on my clit, on my entrance.
I loudly moan.
"My baby who took three fingers," she says as she seems lost in her toughts and while she brushes her fingers over my cunt.
I nod.
I panting for the touch.
"Did it hurt you?"
I shake my head.
"You are always so tight"
"I... I liked it - I soaked the sheets - I felt full"
I don't know if that makes sense, but my mind is too clouded to think lucidly.
"Ale-"
"My baby is getting wet"
I nod.
I gasp.
Her fingers are now soaked with my arousal.
"So Insatiable"
I gasp as I squeeze the sheets.
"I... I - I try to breathe - I'm sorry Ale"
She smiles on my thigh.
"Can I fuck you baby? - Is she hesitant? "I'll be gentle, I promise"
Since when is she so insecure?
"I want to make love to you"
I nod.
I tell her it's okay, that I want it as much as she wants it.
I need to feel her loving me
She kisses me.
A Slow Kiss.
Ale licks my lip, her are shaped into a smile.
Her fingers moving on my clit.
I moan in her mouth.
"Can I touch you?" I ask insecurely.
My hands still against the mattress, too worried to do something wrong.
To break the romantic, kind moment.
The fear of making mistakes.
"Touch me, baby," she gasps, "Let me come with you"
She grabs my hand for a moment, taking it away from my pussy, and bringing it against her.
"Baby, let me come with you"
The voice is hoarse.
Low.
I move my fingers hesitantly against her pussy.
Between her lips.
On her clit.
Her fingers come back inside me.
"Can I... Can I add one more?"
I nod.
The third finger that goes into me.
I freeze for a moment because of a light pain inside of me.
It almost hurts.
She kisses my cheek.
She asks me if it's all right.
I nod and ask her to not move for a few seconds.
To make me habit to her fingers inside of me for the umpteenth time of the night.
She smiles on my skin when I beg her to move them.
She does it with a slow pace.
How to get used to it.
As if she understood that it hurts.
I start touching her again.
My fingers move inside of her hesitant, trying to figure out if she likes it.
She's so wet.
Ale moans against my ear.
She kisses me, moaning in my mouth.
"So perfect little girl," she groans, "Please, faster"
I try to speed up the pace while her hand gets more and more furious.
Touching her is heavenly.
She screams and me with her.
She cums on my hand.
I'm coming on hers.
She collapses on top of me.
Her fingers still in me.
Her orgasm in my ears.
She's so beautiful.
—————————————————————
Hi! I’m sorry I needed so much time to edit, correct and publish it
Hope that you will like this fourth and last part! At first I was trying to do something more fluff, but I loved this quite angst end
I swear that I’ll write something about the request that some of you asked at the end of the next week and if you want ask me things/fic. I think I’ll be more present at the end of the next week🫶🏻
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"You and he aren't supposed to fit so well together. You aren't supposed to work and yet somehow destiny seems to tie you to him tighter and tighter. Will you be able to cut the string of fate before the knot gets tight enough to suffocate or will you accept it and allow yourself to entangle with him?"
Pairing: Queen!Reader x Knight!Jimin
Genre: Forbidden Love!AU, Fantasy!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers!AU, Romance, Smut
Warnings: fluffy moments are sprinkled in between, but also angst :(, so much yearning, secret kisses & secret meetings, multiple smut scenes where one is more detailed while the others are implied-ish, she's fighting her feelings for him, he loves her so much, death, grief & guilt, the tension!!!, i'm clawing my skin off i fucking love yearning and forbidden love, consumption of alcohol, oral (m. & f.receiving), indications that she jerks off with his sword handle, strength kink, body worship, sex in nature, semi-public sex, the next warnings are for the detailed smut: sub!Jimin, Dom!Reader, sex in a broom cabinet, mutual stripping, desperate making out, handjob, he kneels as he gives her sloppy head, she pins him against a shelf, and rides him on the floor, he's sensitive and needy, fuck besties they need each other so bad, cumming too soon ehehe, this has a happy end!!!!!
Wordcount: 23.9k
a/n: i blame you guys for making me suffer. you fucking begged me for more knight!jimin and therefore gave me PAIN i am not oKAY OMFG them them them 😭 i don't think i'll ever shut up about them and their bond and the fact that they've known each other since childhood fndnafn have fun besties, this is so fndnfnasnf 🖤
~ To Prologue ~
His gasps are the loudest thing in this silent night. He tries not to make any sounds, but it is difficult when your touch drags pleasure to his skin.
“Mine. All mine”, your whispers are quieter than his gasps, swirling against his length before your warm mouth replaces them again.
“Please”, Jimin begs, feeling his knees buckle as his senses begin to blur.
You ambushed him tonight. One of your queendom’s viscountess hosted a dance in her castle today and you visited it with your most trusted members of the council. Jimin escorted you as well. As your Queen’s Guard and nothing more. The dance was a two edged sword. You had incredible fun, the food was delicious and wine plenty but the knowledge that you couldn’t even steal as much as one dance with Jimin laid a sad blanket over the evening. And so you danced. You danced with everyone but Jimin, whilst having to resort to sneaking longing glances at the dark haired knight. Glances he retorted with just as much longing in his beautiful eyes.
You arrived back at your castle late into the night. Drunk on wine and good dance, but also burning up in yearning for your knight. And so you visited him in his chambers once your servants helped you get ready for bed and the castle was asleep.
Jimin came out of his bathing chambers when you ambushed him. He wore nothing more than a drying cloth around his hips and pearl necklaces around his neck, while his black hair was pushed out of his face. You kissed him right where he stood, pushing him until he collided with his dresser and you could touch his every inch.
“I need to have you”, you sighed against his lips.
“I need to have you as well, my Queen”, he allowed you and while he believed the night to bring the taste of your cunt, you proceeded to worship every inch of his sculpted torso. With your fingers, your palms, your lips and tongue. You traced every outline, kissed every scar, licked the spots most sensitive and left marks where he arched his back the most. He will trace the marks once he is alone in his chambers and you weren’t with him.
And Jimin felt weakened in pleasure, barely keeping himself upright when you proceeded to fall to your knees, take off the drying cloth and worship his aching length.
“You taste so heavenly, oh Jimin”, you moan as you abandon his length for the sake of worshiping his heavy balls. Your hand is busy jerking him. He is so wet already, pulsating in your hand.
“Oh- it, it feels so good ah”, Jimin moans squeakily, scrunching his face, “my Queen...”
It hasn’t been long since you fell to your knees, but Jimin is already grasping the edge of the dresser for strength. He hasn’t experienced such untamed hunger from you before. Such gluttony for his length. It is difficult to handle for someone as sensitive as your beloved knight.
“Please, I will soil you please”, his voice is breathy in ruin, his eyes are glassy as they look down at you, “please, you have to slow down. Ah please.”
His begs have the opposite effect on you. Instead of giving him a break, you take him into your mouth until his groomed hair tickles your nose and he throbs in your tight throat.
“No I-”, Jimin whimpers and throws his hand over his own mouth to muffle the loud moan escaping him as you force him to climax down your throat. He throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as pleasure courses through him. His knees buckle and make him stumble. If he wasn’t that strong, he would have crumbled to the floor.
It isn’t often that you are the one on your knees. But tonight you were drunk, jolly from dance and starved for him. He didn’t wear his usual armour tonight. He dressed in leather attire adorned with your queendom’s symbols and wore a pale, silken shirt underneath. He topped it off with pearl jewellery and his sword and styled his hair in a noble way. Truly, every second spend with looking at him was agonising paradise and turned you into the hungry woman you were right now.
You slip off his length as he whimpers for a break, finding your heaven by kissing his hard abdominal. It is sculpted from the strenuous training your Queen’s Guards have to do daily and ripples under your lips as he fights for air.
“This was incredible”, you moan, swirling your tongue over his lower abs. You are panting and gasping with him, looking up at him with love drunk eyes, “you are the sweetest thing I tasted tonight.”
Jimin swallows heavily, meeting your gaze. His heart swells. He grabs your face and pulls you to your feet, claiming your soiled lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue tangles with yours, feasting on his lingering taste like a starved animal. Seconds later, your feet leave the ground as he lifts you to carry you to bed. Even more seconds later, your dress is lifted up and his length is breaching you as he rocks his hips into you in a desperate rhythm.
The only thing which keeps the castle from knowing what was happening, are the passionate kisses you share. Otherwise you would be way too loud.
Jimin is part of your life. It began when thirteen full moons ago, you claimed his innocence and loved him passionately for a night. Since then, he began trickling into your life more and more. You invited him to your bedroom more and more under the guise of wanting his services, which most nights ended in his length deep inside you. You began sneaking to his bedroom more and more and at first, you always left after the fun ended, but then those nights where you stayed with him began. And after that, the nights where he stayed in your bed began.
And while you should have stopped it then because it reached levels such a secret should have never reached, you didn’t stop. You kept going. And so you kept going until one night, Jimin stood by your door in nothing but his sleeping clothes and he asked to have you. He asked for the first time since you began this forbidden love affair. And while you should have send him away and ended it because it had become something too much, you dragged him into a kiss and allowed him to have you. And he stayed the night.
That is when the secret became something which never should have happened. You continued to visit him and Jimin began visiting you more and more. You stayed the night, he stayed the night and then one faithful morning, you woke up with him still next to you. Until this point, you and he had always made sure to sneak away before the other – and most importantly, the castle – woke but not that morning. He stayed with you, meeting your gaze as you opened your eyes for the new day. And he gave you a smile, cupped your cheek and whispered that you are the most beautiful person on earth and then he kissed you.
And you kissed him back eventhough you should have sent him away and ended it. You and he became a secret so forbidden and yet you didn’t send him away.
Jimin stays with you tonight. Your bodies were spent and your dress has found its new home on the floors. You are on your stomach, propped on your elbows and covered by the blanket as you look up at Jimin. He is returning from his small dining table with two jugs of water, climbing back under the warm sheets.
“Thank you”, you accept the water, drinking it gladly, “I felt truly parched”, you say, handing him the half empty jug. He discards it on his nightstand, placing his own jug next to it once he took a healthy sip.
“Yes, I felt the same”, he says and shimmies under the blanket. He rests on his side, propped up on one elbow and with his head supported by his hand. He places his hand on your lower back, rubbing circles on your skin, “it’s not often that you ambush me in such ways”, he says with a smile that reaches his eyes. His damp hair is terribly tousled, his soft cheeks flushed. He looks so beautiful after sex. You could look at him for hours.
“I feel no shame in what I did tonight. The dance was agony. All I wanted was to dance with you and you looked so dashing in your clothes that I almost made a whore of myself in the middle of the room.”
“Oh heavens”, he flusters, letting out little giggles as he throws his head back. He covers his mouth with his hands, speaking in a higher voice, “don’t say such things.”
“I am truthful”, you laugh.
“Oh, I’m aware that you are”, he says, leaning in for a gentle kiss to your temple. You lean into the kiss with closed eyes, feeling utterly calm in his presence, “you looked beautiful as well. I wanted to steal you away from all others.”
You giggle, “you talk the sweetest things.”
Jimin chuckles, nuzzling his face against yours to begin kissing you.
“Mhm and you talk the most indecent of things”, he coos, tickling your face gently as he nips on your cheek.
“Jimin, please”, you squeal and moments later, you are on your back while Jimin attacks your face with loving kisses and shares in your giggles.
There is this tree not far outside the capital’s walls. It wasn’t really alive, but it also wasn’t really dead. All its branches were bare, except for one which climbed high enough to reach the light. One has to walk a narrow path along the cliff side, find their way through a cave and climb natural stairs down until one reaches a small plateau in the high cliffs to find it. It is a secluded spot, only the sea and its birds are witness to what happens there. It is the middle of the day and Jimin is beneath you with his mouth latched onto your heat while you stroked his length. You left the castle for a walk and because Jimin was your most trusted guard, he escorted you to keep you safe. At least that is what you let the court believe. You held his hand the second you entered the cave and haven’t let go of it since then. Well, until you couldn’t take the yearning any longer and began kissing him with the sole purpose of connecting with him in the most pleasurable of ways.
“Oh this feels so good. Ah Jimin”, you moan, arching your back as his tongue laps at your heat eagerly. He growls against you, rolling his hips into your touch as he chases the pleasure you bring him.
It has been a few weeks ever since you last touched each other. The night after the dance was long ago and since then, you weren’t able to be with one another again. Your husband returned from his travels, bringing stories to tell, clothes to try on and foreign foods to taste. And so you had to pretend to be a wife most delighted to see him, while Jimin had to pretend to be nothing more than your guard. Your husband didn’t sleep in your bed, but he stayed in your chambers long into the night, telling you stories of his adventures or fulfilling his duties as your husband. He wasn’t terrible and knew not to touch until you allowed him, but he also wasn’t Jimin. That is all the knowledge one needs about this topic as you didn’t truly want to remember the nights with your husband. Yes you allowed him, but you only did so because you feared that if you didn’t at least pretend to want him, he would grow suspicious about how you could go so long without a touch and not be starved for it. And so you shared intimacy with him, finding your release only once you began thinking of Jimin.
Other than the nights of duties you had to share with your husband and having to push away Jimin, having your husband back at the castle wasn’t terrible.
You and he are good friends after all and you always shared wonderful conversations with each other. He also knew how to make you laugh and brought many books filled with stories about foreign cultures. You enjoyed learning about other cultures, so his presents were truly appreciated by you.
Once the sixth week passed, your husband left again, taking his favourite ship to sail east. He promises to return by spring and you told him to be safe and to come back bearing wonderful stories and books filled with knowledge. You kissed him goodbye and he told you that he would write to you the moment he had a quiet moment to himself and then you stood by the shore until his ship was but a small dot on the horizon.
Frigga, your advisor, was with you, as was a small group of the court, some guards and Jimin as your personal guard. You turned to him once your husband’s ship was gone.
“I want to take a walk to clear my heart of the agonies of seeing my beloved leave”, you lied and gave Jimin a look.
“Shall we come with you, my Queen?” Frigga asked.
“No, I want to be alone with my thoughts”, you told her and left the shore.
Jimin followed you and nobody in the court questioned it because he was your personal guard after all, meant to tail you like a shadow and keep you safe. It was truly the perfect disguise to keep the truth hidden. That you left so you and Jimin could finally catch up on six weeks of distance and that you couldn’t wait for the moment your husband’s ship disappeared on the horizon.
“Jimin! Now!” you gasp, throwing your head back as his tongue pushes you over the edge.
He moans into you, intoxicated by your high and charmed by your touch, he finds his own release in the palm of your hand.
Jimin wasn’t always part of the Queen’s Guard. Only a handful of knights will have the honour of serving you in their lifetime. Selected by you and with hard training keeping them strong, the Queen’s Guard is truly a small yet mighty group of knights.
Jimin became leader of it seven full moons ago. Not only because he was a capable and strong warrior and he proofed himself worthy of such a position, but also because being your personal protector, and the leader of the Guards, meant that people would ask lesser questions about why he was always leaving your chambers or following you to secluded places. After all, you and he must be talking strategies in your chambers and he most definitely follows you to keep you safe. Truly the court was a credulous bunch.
You roll off of Jimin, lying down on the ground beside him. It happens naturally that Jimin stretches out his arm so your head wouldn’t touch the dirty ground. You rest on it comfortably, looking up at the high cliffs. A rock overhang hides the sky from your eyes. The harsh, salty air of the sea made it so that over thousands of years the black rock became dark grey in colour.
“You truly feel like no other”, you say, “I feel breathless.”
“Yes, I feel breathless as well”, Jimin says as he rests beside you with closed eyes.
You turn your head to study his features. It is as if every single inch was sculpted by magic. His proportions are perfect for his face. He is so beautiful.
“I missed you, Jimin.”
“I missed you as well”, he says and turns his head. He looks into your eyes, smiling softly, “you look ruined.”
“Do I? I feel ruined”, you say and laugh.
Jimin laughs with you, reaching out to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I love when you look this way.”
You draw closer to him until your head rested on his upper arm and you could steal a kiss.
“Mhm”, Jimin smiles into the kiss, stubbing your nose with his own.
“I feel so lucky that he will be gone till spring. Eight months, Jimin. We will be able to do so many wonderful things during this time.”
“I know. I’m excited.”
“Yes, me too.”
You fix your head so you could look at the rocks again. Jimin does the same, smiling to himself as you reach up to hold his hand.
You share a few moments of silence until suddenly you break it with chuckles.
“Why are you laughing?” Jimin asks.
“Oh, I was just thinking.”
“Tell me.”
“I was just thinking that I can be lucky to have such skilled sorceresses in my castle. Imagine if they didn’t use their prevention magic on my belly. Oh Jimin, we would be producing children like rabbits.”
Jimin laughs, “you think of such crude things, my Queen.”
You giggle, “I know, oh I know. I’m terrible. I can’t help it. I always think of you and what we did.”
Jimin rolls to his side, pulling you into a gentle forehead kiss.
“I think of you as well. Most of my days even.”
You giggle, seeking his closeness, “oh Jimin, you are wonderful.”
He rubs his hand up and down the back of your head.
“It saddens me that I can’t share my stories with Frigga.”
“It doesn’t sadden me. Don’t make me an indecent man in front of her”, Jimin jokes, making you laugh.
“Oh you”, you nudge his chest, “I wasn’t speaking of our intimacies. I just meant that I find it saddening that I cannot tell her how happy you make me”, you look up into his eyes, “and that I think of you every waking second.”
A sense of sadness washes over Jimin’s face as quickly as a wave crashes the shore. A smile replaces it.
“I know”, he whispers, tracing your brow with his fingertips, “it is already enough that you and I know”, his eyes fill with insecurities, “isn’t it?”
“Yes. Yes, of course it is enough”, you say and lean in for a kiss.
It has to be enough.
“The Queen Consort is dead! He is dead!”
It was a sunny day when the news reached the castle. You enjoyed the ray of warm light in your courtyard, playing card games with Frigga and your maids, when a messenger interrupted the peace.
“He is dead”, he wheezes with tears in his eyes, “the sea took him. Him and his crew! He’s dead!”
It was a sunny day when the funeral happened. There wasn’t much of him to say goodbye to. Only pieces of his ship and a small heap of books survived. They washed up on the shores and at first you didn’t want to believe that they belonged to his ship. Until your guards found two members of his crew. Their bodies were bloated from the waters and their eyes were already missing from their sockets. Animals must have gotten to them.
Their funeral was held two days after.
It is sunny. It is blinding your eyes. It hurts. You cried all night. And the night before. And all day when the news met you. It has been sunny since. You hate that it is. How dare the sun shines when life is so cruel.
It is custom in your Queendom to give a dead beloved a sea burial. The body was sent out on a wooden boat with food, drink and riches for a safe journey to the afterlife and then the best archer will light an arrow and sent it straight to the boat to set it aflame.
Your husband can’t have such a burial. An empty boat with useless riches and food is sent from shore. You are tasked with shooting the arrow. You light the resin soaked tip and draw the bow. You let go. The arrow flies fast and misses.
The people stay silent, but the humiliation is there in your heart next to the paralysing grief. Most of your queendom is standing by the shore and watches you. You feel useless now that you missed.
One of your servants hands you a new arrow wordlessly, avoiding your eyes. You light it, draw the bow and miss again.
The same servant hands you a third arrow. The boat is getting further and further away. You force down a sob and try again. It misses.
The first whisper sets off a choir of whispers. It isn’t your fault. The sun is too bright and your heart aches too much. You have no strength in your arms. Why are they whispering?
Another arrow is handed to you. You light it with shaking hands and try to draw. The string barely wants to budge. The boat is far away. The whispers grow.
“She won’t do it.”
“She’s not strong enough.”
They don’t know that you can hear them, but you can. You struggle with holding the string, but you have to draw more. It is so difficult to do.
“Her husband’s already died at sea without proper burial and now she can’t even send him off.”
You fight for air and lower the bow. The gasps are deafening in your ears. You can’t do it. You couldn’t love him right and now you can’t even send him off right. You are a failure of a wife.
You try again. You have to send him off properly. The string barely moves. A small sob escapes you. The whispers are so loud. You can’t do it and all they can do is whisper. Your head turns. You are going to pass out.
Strong arms lie themselves around you, an armoured chest presses into your back. You tense up, but feel yourself relax when Jimin’s face comes into your vision.
“Trust in me, I can help you”, he whispers as he helps you draw the bow.
The whispers are still in the back of your head, talking about how you cannot do it alone.
“Don’t listen to them. Concentrate on me. They don’t know what they’re saying”, he tells you and aims the bow, “once I stopped talking, we will let go together. Understood?”
You nod your head.
“Okay. Let go.”
The arrow flies fast and it flies straight, connecting with the boat far, far in the distance. It lights up within seconds, painting a bright orange spot on the blue ocean canvas.
The music starts and people behind you begin cheering. It is custom to send off the dead with song and cheer. But you can’t cheer. You are humiliated and at the end of your strength. You turn, falling into Jimin’s arms as you sob uncontrollably. Only a handful of people look at you, while the rest was busy celebrating your husband’s safe journey to the other life.
“I do not wish to be here. Please take me away”, you beg Jimin.
“Of course. Come, hide in me”, Jimin tells you and leads you away from the festivities. Some people try to fetch a touch, but he pushes them away skilfully, sending each a deathly glare.
You can still hear the festivities from your castle. The building is empty as everyone is by the shore wishing your husband and his crew a safe journey. You wanted silence and yet the music and cheers still meet your ears.
Jimin manages to lead you as far as the dining halls and then strength forsakes you.
“I can’t do this”, you wail, falling to your knees.
“Oh”, Jimin gasps and stumbles as the sudden drag surprised him. He catches himself quickly, helping you back to your feet. Together, you and he manage to stumble to a bench, “sit down here. Sit down”, he tells you, helping you with it.
You sink into yourself once you are seated, burying your face in the clammy palms of your hands. Jimin squats down before you, trying to calm you down by rubbing your arms.
“I can’t do this anymore”, you cry.
“Oh my treasure”, Jimin gets out with comradery tears in his eyes, “I’m here. I’m right here”, he promises and pulls you into a hug. He kisses the side of your head, swaying you from side to side gently, “I’m here.”
You and he will hug by this bench until the first voices of people returning meet your ears. And you won’t be able to tell anyone, but you were so incredibly happy to have Jimin by your side.
It shouldn’t have to be mentioned that the weeks after your husband’s early death were filled with grief. You didn’t spend a lot of time doing things a Queen should do. Your once colourful clothing caught dust in your dressers as only the blackest of garments cover your body. Your jewellery stayed untouched and if it wasn’t for your servants, you wouldn’t even have bothered to do your hair. Jimin brings food to you each night. Sometimes Frigga is faster than him and they meet in your chambers with slight awkward surprise between them. Thankfully nobody questions why he spends time with you each night. The court thinks that Jimin is solely doing his duty as your guard and he does. Of course does, but more than anything he attempts to be there for you as your lover, offering you arms to fall into when you needed it and a shoulder to cry on when the tears didn’t want to stop.
“My Queen?”
He brings dinner tonight as well. Your chambers are empty and the scent of vanilla oil fills the room. He knows the origins of this scent like a lover knows the scent of his beloved’s skin. You are bathing.
Jimin places the tray of food on your dining table and takes the path to your bathing chambers.
You have your back turned to him as you look outside at the sea. The full moon reflects in the unruly waves. A storm is brewing. The kind of storm which took your husband. Jimin knows by just looking at your hunched posture that this is what you are thinking.
“My Queen?”
You turn your head upon hearing Jimin’s voice, meeting his gaze with exhausted eyes. You hum as acknowledgement but otherwise stay quiet.
“Why are the windows open? Aren’t you cold?” Jimin asks, hurrying to the open windows. He closes them, locking out the cold winds. He turns back to you. You are looking at him with tired eyes and your chin resting on your knee.
“Do you want to leave the water?”
You nod your head.
“I shall call the servants.”
“No. Stay. Don’t call them.”
Jimin watches you stand up and point at the drying cloth. He hurries to it and picks it up instantly, carrying it to you. He holds your hand as he helps you out of the stone tub and wraps you up in the cloth. You lean into him, resting your head back against him as he rubs his hands along your body to dry you.
“A storm is brewing on the horizon”, you whisper.
“I know. It will be a cold night, but we are inside where it is warm.”
“Do you think that Mino was cold before he died?”
Jimin falters in his touch, looking at the side of your face. You never called your husband by his name before. At least not in front of him.
“I cannot say”, Jimin says quietly.
“To imagine that he died wet and cold. Storms are so scary. Oh, he must have been so frightened.”
“I am sure that he thought of you, which made it easier to bear.”
“Don’t say that”, you gasp and tear up, “why would you say such a thing?”
“I didn’t think that it would hurt you. Forgive me, oh please don’t cry.”
“I was such a terrible wife to him. He thought of me as he died while I laid in your arms and wasted not a second with thinking of him.”
Jimin would be lying if he said that your words didn’t leave an ache in his heart. He swallows it down and wraps his arm around you.
“Perhaps he didn’t think of you. I just merely said such words because this is what I would do.”
“Oh”, you let out, spilling tears, “oh what have I done?”
“Come. Let us get you in some clothes. Come”, Jimin says and leads you outside the bathing chambers and also hopefully away from your emotions.
He sits you down by your dressing table and hurries to your drawers to get a warm sleeping gown.
“Jimin, do you believe me to be a terrible person?” you ask him with emotion in your voice, but thankfully no sobs.
“No, my Queen. I believe you to be the most precious person on this planet.”
“If you didn’t love me, would you still think this way?”
“Yes. But I love you and I do not want to imagine a world where I don’t”, he says and hurries back to you, “now, stand up and allow me to dress you.”
You allow him. You stand up and raise your arms so he could slip the sleeping gown on. Then you turn and allow him to tie it in the back. Jimin gives your shoulders a gentle massage once you are dressed, pushing you down carefully until you fall onto the chair. He leans down and places kisses from your dressed shoulder up to your neck.
He looks at you in the mirror, expecting you to have your eyes closed as you always have when he kisses your neck but instead you are looking at him with sad eyes.
“I’m frightened”, you confess.
Jimin furrows his brows in worry.
“I should be relieved that I am not betraying my husband behind his back anymore, but I am not. I grieve for him deeply and I am frightened.”
“Frightened of what?”
“I do not wish to marry into royalty again. I want to marry you.”
Jimin smiles.
“And yet I am frightened that I will have to. My queendom is so small compared to others. What if people want to attack us now that we lost such a strong ally?”
“Who would want to attack us? We are a peaceful queendom.”
“We are, but the Queens of Stormveil aren’t, neither are the Naritauri. Danger lies beyond the sea and I am frightened.”
“Please don’t be. Those are futures which won’t happen”, Jimin assures you and wraps his arms around you. His cheek is resting against yours, he is swaying your bodies slowly, “for tonight the future you should think about is dinner and how I will rub your back until you fall asleep.”
He expects a smile but receives a sad frown.
“What’s the matter? Do you not want me to?”
“I have to send you away tonight”, you press out.
Jimin feels weird in his stomach. This isn’t going to end well. This is going to hurt him.
He keeps holding you in an attempt to drag out the inevitable.
“I am sure that none of your maids will come here tonight”, he acts oblivious in hopes of steering the conversation into another direction.
“No. No, I have to send you away. I cannot do this right now.”
“Do you want me to stop hugging you?”
“No, of course I don’t, but I have to send you away. I need time.”
Jimin falters. He shakes his head.
“Please, Jimin”, you whisper, placing your hands on his lower arms, “find it in yourself to understand me. I have too much going on, I cannot drag you along for it.”
“I’m your guard. There is no situation more suited for me than what you are currently experiencing. It is my duty to protect you from harm”, he slides his hand to where your heart races, “especially harm on the heart”, he whispers.
“Jimin please”, you beg, “I cannot do this right now. I need time.”
Jimin blinks his tears away.
“Time for what?” he asks quietly.
“Time to think and to come up with what I should do and how I should handle the dangers of being such a small, unmarried country with such dangerous neighbours.”
“You can do those things with me by your side.”
“Yes, indeed I can. As my guard.”
“Please don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You can think about these things with me as your lover as well.”
“I’m sorry. I need time. Everything feels like too much.”
“I don’t want to leave tonight.”
“Neither do I want you to, Jimin!” you say loudly, standing up and therefore breaking the hug. You turn, placing your hands on his chest, “I have to do all this thinking so I do not have to send you away anymore. Do you not understand? I am widowed, Queen of a weak country and I cannot be caught with my guard sleeping in my bed. If people caught you, rumours would start. Rumours that you were compliant in my husband’s death so you could seduce me.”
You shake him by his collar, squeezing out tears.
“And I would have to choose between executing you to make an example or running away from here and making us a target for every possible assassin on the continent.”
Jimin shakes his head.
“You speak of impossible futures. Such things would never happen.”
“I cannot risk it, Jimin. I just simply cannot. Please give me time. Please, I will fix this. Please, I simply need time.”
Jimin takes a deep breath. He will do something that he will hopefully not regret.
“Very well”, he gives in, “I will give you time. I will fulfil my duties as your guard and give you time.”
“Thank you so much”, you say, cupping his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. This is the last thing you should be doing right now, but you can’t help yourself. You need him like you need air.
Jimin deepens the kiss with his hand on your lower back and his other cupping your cheek. He doesn’t want to stop, to let go, to end this. Once that kiss ends, you will send him away and he will return to being nothing more than your guard. You speak of temporary distance. Jimin sees that you need it as your mind produces futures most impossible and you clearly need the time to rid your mind of them. But he is scared that this isn’t temporary. That perhaps your heart won’t change, but fate will. That life will be cruel enough to force it to change.
You break the kiss.
“Not yet please”, Jimin begs, chasing you.
“Jimin, please”, you beg, fleeing him, “please make it easier for me.”
“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me. You shouldn’t have given me a glimpse of you.”
“Please…I….please.”
“Just one more kiss. Please.”
“And then you will beg for one more and then we will end up in bed and I couldn’t possibly send you away.”
“And what would be so terrible about this? A storm is coming. The night will be cold. Allow me to keep you warm”, he caresses your cheek, “___.”
You let out a small whimper, twisting the hair at the back of his head.
“I curse you”, you get out and pull him back into a kiss.
Jimin doesn’t leave your chambers tonight. But he leaves them tomorrow with the same promise between you and him which he gave you last night. He will give you time.
He shouldn’t have given you time.
Jimin finally knows why he never should have made such a promise.
Fate proved him right and now he has to pay the consequences. Your queendom was attacked. But not in the way one might expect, but in a way far worse anyone could have ever imagined. It was attacked by a flood of suitors begging for your hand in marriage. It has been weeks and the proposals won’t stop. He has to stand by your side and has listen to the disgusting yapping of boring men while you pretended to be somewhat interested in what they had to say.
Perhaps the weeks would have been easier to bear if you gave him a feeling as if you and he weren’t over. But you didn’t. You didn’t call for him at night, didn’t visit him in his chambers, stopped visiting the secret spots you and he so often had found yourselves in to kiss and hug. You even stopped looking at him from the other side of the room or going on walks just so he could follow.
You acted as if he was just another one of your guards and it ripped him apart. He aches for you and yet you seem so indifferent about him. Jimin already began wondering if you ever really loved him as he loved you.
Today, the fates were especially cruel to him.
One of your suitors invited you to a hunting party and because Jimin was your most trusted guard, he had to come along, trailing behind you as this boring, ugly man spit his attempts at seducing you. Jimin could speak to his fellow knights or listen to some of the other noble people coming along for the hunt, but he didn’t want to listen. Not when he had to watch you get seduced by someone as ugly as Lord Frail. It should be a crime that someone like him even looks at you.
The hunt takes your party of ten noble people, a handful of servants and ten guards deep into your queendom’s forests. Tough conifer trees filled the forests and sharp thorns covered the parts which weren’t paths. Dark green ferns broke up the thick thorn carpets and the scent of the ocean followed you.
“The weather’s good for a hunt. Wouldn’t you say, Sire?”
Jimin turns his head to the right as someone clearly addressed him. One of his fellow Queen’s Guards. He joined them a year ago and looked up to Jimin a lot.
“I guess”, Jimin murmurs, looking back at you and the boring Lord Frail.
“The winds are in our favour. I am sure we’ll be successful.”
“I am sure we will.”
“Have you been on many hunting trips before, Sire?”
“Yes, the late Queen, ___’s mother, took me on trips the moment I began serving as her knight.”
“Huh. I sometimes forget that you and the Queen shared adolescence with each other. I would never dare to call her by her name, but it must be common to you.”
Jimin tenses his jaw for a moment. It stopped being common when you and he both passed your second decade on this earth. Before then, you and he always addressed each other with the other’s name. You played together, danced together, ate at the same table and called each other like two childhood friends. But as age changed you and him, your different ranks became so painfully obvious to both of you. You grew up to be the Princess and future Queen of Windfell, while Jimin stayed a common knight. But even as your name stopped being a common thing for Jimin, you and he never grew apart. Age just tied you tighter together until your husband died and you asked for time. The cliff between you and him had never been that big before and Jimin is aching.
“Yes”, he presses out with a heavy heart, “yes, it was common once.”
“I see. You seem to care a lot for her, Sire.”
Jimin sneaks a glance at the knight.
“As someone, who watched her grow up to be the Queen she is these days, can care about her. Yes.”
“This is good, Sire”, the knight says and takes a deep breath, “the winds are on our sides, I can smell it.”
Jimin relaxes his shoulders now that the conversation shifted back to something less nerve wrecking. One wrong word and he could destroy what you and he built. He glances at you. That is, if fate hadn’t already destroyed it.
The hunting party reaches a clearing, gathering in a small circle so you could converse. Jimin places himself next to you, scanning his eyes over your surroundings.
“We shall go in five groups so we can cover more ground”, you order, “I shall take Lord Frail and we shall meet back here once the sun moved past this mountain.”
The hunting party looks at the high mountain in the distance. The sun will take some time to pass the mountain peak.
“Understood.”
“Very well, take two guards each and be careful not to get hurt. We have seen enough death this year”, you say and turn your horse, looking into Jimin’s eyes, “I want you to come with me.”
“My Queen”, he says, nodding his head. He waves his hand so the knight, who talked to him, follows as well and then your small group is already off.
The hunt turns out to be less painful as Jimin imagined it to be. And it was Lord Frail’s fault. Your small group had put some distance between the party and the group when he broke the silence.
“You spoke of death this year. Have you lost someone, your highness?”
Jimin almost cursed at the stupid man, but stayed silent, looking at your face instead. Shock, anger, disbelief. It all washed over your features upon being asked such a tactless question.
“Did you truly just ask me that?” you press out angrily, “I lost my husband but two months ago.”
“Oh yes! Oh how stupid of me! That is why I am here!” Lord Frail laughs, “please forgive me, I am quite forgetful in my old age.”
“Yes, you seem to be”, you say and turn your head away from him. It was clear to Jimin that you were furious.
“The weather seems to be on our side today, wouldn’t you agree?” Lord Frail continued the conversation as if nothing happened.
“Yes, indeed it is”, you answered each of his questions coldly.
“It is already long into the year, but the autumn takes its time this year. I am quite pleased with it. My old joints do not agree with the cold.”
“That is awful.”
“Yes, yes indeed it is. However, colder weather also means more frequent baths. I do not believe in bathing for cleanliness, but I enjoy warming my old bones in a bath once the weather is cold.”
“I couldn’t even tell that you do not believe in baths, my Lord.”
Jimin has to bite down on his tongue in order not to laugh. The sarcasm drips from your voice.
“Of course, of course”, Lord Frail runs his eyes up and down your body, “do you enjoy baths, Your Highness?” he asks and the implications are obvious in his voice.
Jimin almost drew his sword on him, sending him a deathly glare over your shoulder.
“Yes I do.”
Jimin looks at you in surprise. Why would you say that?
“I prefer to take them alone.”
Jimin relaxes again.
“Oh, ohuohuo”, Lord Frail laughs, “you are a jester, Your Highness.”
“Hahaha”, you practically pronounce your laughter, “I am indeed. A fucking jester.”
“Forgive me?” Lord Frail gasps.
You look away, studying the trees, “nothing”, you murmur and roll your shoulders, “we should split up. I believe that I heard a hog along this path. You should check it out, Lord Frail. I will take this path down along this stream.”
“But shouldn’t we-”
You do not give him time to finish his sentence and then you have already turned your horse and nudged it into a full sprint.
“Hya! Hya!” you encourage it.
Jimin follows you close by, keeping a careful watch on you because a sense of recklessness surrounds you.
“Slow down!” he calls out, “there is a slippery bridge coming!”
He knows that it is slippery because the ground never dries in these forests and nature has grown over the stone bridge and made it slippery. You and he took this path countless times before. Up until now these forests witnessed nothing but good memories between you and him.
“My Queen, slow down!” he tells you.
You are too fast, speeding up on the last meters.
“___ no!” Jimin screams and watches with horror as you leap over the small stream. He tugs his horse into a stop, gasping for air as he tries to recover from the shock.
You slow the horse down on the other side, turning it skilfully. Your face is glowing from your skin catching the fog, the creases between your brows disappeared.
“Did you see that?” you call out to him, smiling, “I managed this so easily.”
“Yes and almost killed me from fright in the process”, Jimin says, trotting over the bridge.
You laugh, “nothing happened. You worry too much.”
“Worrying is my duty, of course I do”, he says, joining your side.
You snicker. You and he have a comfortable tempo with your horses, swaying from side to side naturally. You take a deep breath, lifting your head.
“I haven’t ran like this in ages. It felt good to do.”
“I worried that you might hurt yourself.”
“Wasn’t I the one to teach you how to ride?” you ask in a chuckle, “you should trust in me more.”
“Of course you taught me, but I also remember the countless times where you ran recklessly and fell.”
“Indeed and yet I never hurt myself.”
“I remember differently. You cried each time you fell.”
“This is a lie and you know that”, you say, reaching over to slap his arm gently.
Jimin laughs with you, reaching over to slap your arm right back.
“I don’t lie.”
You nudge him again, “yes, you do. You liar.”
You and he laugh together and in this moment it felt as if you were fourteen of age again, laughing in the forests after an afternoon of mischief. You and he exchange a look. It was clear to each of you that you thought the same. Growing up is cruel when it meant that two friends of mutual respect have to act as if one was more important in society than the other.
You break the eye contact first, taking a deep breath. Jimin twists the reigns, swallowing down the heavy lump in his throat.
“I cannot stand Lord Frail”, you confess.
“I could tell. You cursed.”
“You heard that?” you laugh, throwing your head back.
It has been too long since Jimin last saw you laugh so honestly. It fills his heart with happiness and so he finds himself laughing with you.
“Oh, I couldn’t help myself. He angered me so much”, you are still laughing as you speak, shaking your head in disbelief, “I mean, who in their right mind forgets something as detrimental as my husband’s death? That is the very reason why I agreed to this charade in the first place.”
“As you said, he’s not right in the mind. He doesn’t believe in baths.”
“Yes, one couldn’t smell this at all.”
You and Jimin laugh and it felt so good to do. Life was correct right now. Life wasn’t cruel because you and he could laugh together.
“Oh, how wonderful”, you end the laugh with a soft swipe under your eyes as if to dry your tears.
“You know”, Jimin begins.
“Mhm?” you hum, granting him a warm look.
“Jinus made me think of us and how long we have known each other already. How long has it been? Fifteen years?”
“Seventeen.”
“Seventeen?”
You nod your head, “we were eleven when I found you on the streets of your village. Remember? You were covered in ash and threatened to beat me with a stick.”
Jimin laughs, “I did! Oh, I forgot.”
You laugh with him, “but you changed your mind once I brought you food. Remember?”
“Of course I remember. I was starving and scared. I wouldn’t have been able to beat you.”
“Oh, I was aware. You looked weak.”
You and Jimin laugh. The forest paths fill with sunlight and the sweet scent of resin. Neither he nor you had noticed until now, how much sunlight fell down on the earth today.
“But we helped you grow strong, didn’t we?”
“Yes, you really did. I found my home with you.”
“Oh”, you let out, exchanging a sheepish look with him.
“Forgive me”, he whispers.
“Don’t worry”, you assure him quietly.
The sunlight dies down again. The scent of resin gets less.
You slow down your horses as the path melts into a small clearing. You jump off the horse. Jimin does the same. You and he choose two small trees to secure your horses on. Equipped with your bow and his sword, you leave the path to wander through the denser forest instead. He is by your side because right now, it is just the two of you and there is no societal rule keeping you apart.
“I apologise for what I said”, Jimin says.
“Don’t apologise”, you assure him, giving him a warm yet yearning look, “I feel glad that you found a home here. Life wouldn’t be the same without you”, you tell him and it is the first time in weeks where you show him that you cared for him. Jimin swallows down his overwhelming emotions to instead give you a smile.
When you retort it, he takes a step closer to you, brushing his finger against your hand. When you don’t pull away, he reaches for you truly and intertwines his fingers with you. You give him a squeeze instinctively.
“Fuck”, you whisper, looking away, “you have to stop doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Reminding me what I feel for you”, you say.
“I won’t ever stop doing this”, he says, eliciting a small laugh from you.
You shake your head, looking at him with fond eyes.
“You are too stubborn.”
“I know”, Jimin says and tugs you closer. You let him, falling into him while he places his hands on your waist. You and he stop in your tracks. Ferns surround you. The sunlight breaks through the trees and illuminates his features beautifully.
You want to kiss him. You want to cup his cheeks and trace his features. You want to call him yours and love him openly.
Seventeen years. There is no constant in your life which has been with you for as long as Jimin has. There is no person in this world who knows you as well as Jimin does. In front of everyone else you have to pretend, to act a certain way, to hide parts of yourself. But not in front of Jimin. There is no person who makes you feel more like yourself than he.
And there is no person you want to be with more than him.
He moves in, nudging your cheek with his nose to test the waters. You close your eyes because you couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Jimin please”, you whisper, exhaling deeply as you move your head away slightly. You look at him even if it is difficult.
“It’s been weeks.”
“We had to go longer than this in the past.”
“But this is different.”
“Jimin, why can’t you-”
A blood curling scream interrupts you before the situation could escalate into a fight. You and Jimin look at where it came from.
“Did you hear this as well?”
“I did.”
“Help! Help!”
You and he exchange a look and spring into a sprint. The fight lies forgotten for now.
You reach your horses quickly, working skilfully to mount them and gallop off. You and Jimin ran together and rode horses next to each other ever since you were children. You taught him how to ride a horse and he taught you how to climb a tree. You didn’t even need words to find perfect synchronisation in your jumps and gallops because acting like a team has been a part of you ever since you were children.
The owner of the screams turns out to be Lord Frail. Covered in muddy water from the stream and without a horse or guard in sight.
“Lord Frail, what happened?” you gasp, slowing down your horse carefully.
“The foolish horse slipped on this bridge and threw me off! It ran off without me!”
You and Jimin exchange a look. What a fool.
“How terrible. Did you hurt yourself, Lord Frail?” you ask without honesty in your voice.
“Of course I did! Look!” he shows off the small graze on his elbow.
Jimin snorts, hiding his laughter behind his hand. You send him a warning look, fighting the toughest battle in trying not to laugh as well.
“How terrible. Where is your guard?”
“I sent him off to get the cursed animal. Horse stew should be made with it! Foolish horse.”
“I am sure that it merely startled”, you tell him and send Jimin a look. He retorts it. He thinks the same. Of course someone like Lord Frail would blame the horse and not his own inability to ride.
Lord Frail stomps his foot.
“So what now? Should I walk?”
You take a deep breath in order not to curse at him.
“Of course not”, you say with a faked smile, “Jimin, give Lord Frail your horse.”
Jimin tenses his jaw, “yes, my Queen”, he says and gets off. He leads his horse to the clumsy man and presses the reins into his hands roughly. The man seems confused at the dark look he receives from the knight, but doesn’t say anything.
He merely points at the ground.
“You know what to do.”
Jimin considers drawing his sword and slicing this idiot’s belly open. But he doesn’t, instead he gets on all fours so the clumsy sack can climb on his horse. He presses into Jimin’s back painfully, forcing him to growl angrily. It goes unnoticed by the man as he is too busy yapping about how much taller this horse is and that it was too good for a knight.
Jimin stands back up, cleaning off the dirt from his clothes aggressively while his eyes murdered the man.
“Now where to next?” Lord Frail asks, sitting proudly on the horse which you gave Jimin after he became a knight.
“The castle. I grew rather cold”, you say dryly, studying Jimin with guilty eyes.
“Cold you say? That is a bother. Let’s go then”, Lord Frail says and looks at Jimin, “I assume he walks. Oh, ohuohuo how tragic”, he says and rides off with snickers leaving him.
Jimin feels hot in anger. Perhaps if he threw his sword just right, he could knock this twat off his horse without killing him.
The sound of hooves beside him rips him back to reality. He turns and lifts his head. You are shielding the sun from him, standing right beside him and looking down from your horse.
“I understand. I’m walking”, he hisses and sets off.
He gets as far as three steps and then he realises that you are riding next to him. He stops again, looking up at you.
You scoot to the front of your saddle.
“I do not want you to walk.”
Softness washes over his features.
“Come up here”, you tell him, nodding your head behind you.
“Very well.”
Jimin gets on your horse without hesitation. The saddle is built in a way so that you and he could share it with some discomfort. It results in his middle to press against your behind. You rub against each other with every step the horse takes. You try to ignore how it makes you feel, while Jimin tries not to close his eyes.
“Is this comfortable for you?” you ask.
“Yes”, Jimin places his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands run up and down your corseted waist. His warmth seeps deep into your skin, “it’s comfortable”, he speaks softly and steals a kiss to your neck.
Lord Frail is enough steps ahead of you that he doesn’t notice it.
Your heart is beating unbearably. Jimin is so close to you, touching you and sharing warmth. His neck kiss still lingers on your skin, even now that he is resting his chin on your shoulder again. You brought yourself into this situation, but it is still almost impossible to bear.
“What if he sees us?” you whisper.
“I truly wish that you wouldn’t consider this twat as a husband”, Jimin ignores your warnings, staring holes into Lord Frail’s head.
“I’m not. It wasn’t mannerly of him to use you as a stool. I apologise. He is indeed a twat.”
“Mhm, one that stinks as well. I will have to buy a new saddle and burn the other.”
He makes you laugh. Loudly. Lord Frail looks over his shoulder. Jimin was thankfully quick enough to change his position so he wasn’t resting his chin on your shoulder and his arms around you. His hands rest on your hips now, hidden from view in your coat. The touch is heavy on your skin, seeping into your deepest fibres.
“That is a peculiar view. I thought he would walk.”
“It is quite far to the castle. I take great care of my knights.”
“I can see that. He’s an ill-mannered lad. He sent me dirty looks.”
“That is merely how he looks when he is on duty.”
Lord Frail looks at Jimin and his darkened eyes. He looks away again, fixing his collar.
“I see. Well, I don’t like it.”
“If you know yourself to behave, you mustn’t worry.”
“I am a very mannerly fella.”
“I doubt that, Lord Frail”, you say, masking the poison with a laugh, “after all, you used my knight as a stepping stool.”
“Oh well, yes”, Lord Frail laughs because he thought the situation to be a laughing matter, “he is sturdier than I thought.”
“You misunderstand me, Lord Frail. I wasn’t jesting. You do not use my knights as stepping stools.”
Lord Frail stops laughing. He looks at you with widened eyes. The smile from your face was gone. You weren’t jesting.
“My apologies, Your Highness”, he presses out even if it clearly hurts his pride.
“I am not the one to apologise to.”
Lord Frail looks at Jimin. The dark haired knight is carrying triumph on his features.
“His name is Jimin. Say it with respect”, you say coldly.
Lord Frail flares his nostrils and opens his mouth.
“My apologies, Sir Jimin”, he mumbles, frowning in distaste afterwards.
“Very well”, you say and click your tongue, telling your horse to speed up with a gentle nudge of your feet.
The horse listens well, galloping off so you could put some distance between you and the ill-mannered lord. He should know that he wasted his chance.
Galloping on a horse with Jimin behind you is difficult. Not only because sharing a saddle minimises the support you have, but also because he is rubbing against you. The thick, sturdy leather of his pants against your own thick leather thankfully masks some of the sensation, but it was there nonetheless.
You slow down soon, passing the convoy in a slow trot. You ignore the curious looks people send you, calling out orders instead.
“If one may see a horse without a rider, return it to Lord Frail. The fool lost it!”
“Yes, Your Highness”, they answer you and pretend that seeing your knight ride behind you without any distance between you and him was a normal sight to see.
“We will ride straight back to the castle. Is Jinus back already?”
“Yes, my Queen he is back with the others.”
“Very well.”
There were two reasons for why you decided to ride to the front. You were the Queen and you needed Lord Frail to know that he lost his spot by your side. And being in the front meant that Jimin couldn’t touch you again. He has been running his hands up and down your hips and thighs ever since you put Lord Frail into his place and it is getting very difficult to concentrate. Thankfully, your riding coat covers his hands from creeping eyes, but you knew that they were there and it is making your thoughts blur.
“I will assume that your sword needs fixing”, you tell him quietly enough that hopefully only he can hear.
“Mhm yes, my sword needs polishing”, Jimin answers you, sending heat to your face.
You hide the giggle wanting to escape by covering your mouth, lowering your head for just a second. Jimin squeezes your softness under the coat, chuckling deeply. Even through the thick layer of leather you could feel the strength behind his touch.
You straighten up, “Jimin, I am serious. Please fix your sword.”
“It is hard to fix when it’s in my pants.”
“Lower your voice”, you hiss.
“It is hard to fix when it is in my pants”, Jimin whispers, letting the words swirl against your neck.
“I am not jesting.”
“Neither am I.”
You swallow heavily. His touch is unbearable to handle.
“My Queen”, thankfully – or perhaps sadly – Frigga catches up to your side. Jimin slides his hands from your coat, placing them on your waist instead. He needs to hold on somewhere and this was the most logical place. It isn’t easier to bear.
“Yes, Frigga?” you ask her, hoping that your breathlessness goes unnoticed.
“What shall I tell the cooks to prepare tonight now that the hunt bared no fruit?”
“Whatever they find on the markets. I am certain there are lovely fish to buy.”
“Understood. Is Lord Frail staying for dinner?”
“No. No, as a matter of fact I wish to eat dinner in my chambers. I have had enough of dutiful chattering.”
“I understand”, Frigga looks at Jimin with a sense of knowing in her eyes, “will Jimin bring you dinner?”
The knowing grows. You feel yourself panic. Jimin’s presence behind you feels burdensome.
“Why would you ask such a thing?” you gasp.
“Because he always brings you dinner. My Queen, what did you believe that I was saying?”
“Nothing. I, uhm, nothing. It doesn’t matter”, you stutter.
Frigga studies you and Jimin together.
“I understand”, she says and slows down her horse to put some distance between you and her.
The rest of the ride back was silent until Lord Frail gallops to the front clumsily.
“Your Highness, I must ask for clarification. Am I staying for dinner?”
“No, you are not.”
“Is it because I used your knight as a stepping stool?”
“It is because you are ill-mannered and quite frankly, you reek.”
Jimin laughs quietly behind you, squeezing your waist. You could swear that he rolled his hips against you. You bite down on your tongue to distract yourself.
“Oh that is”, Lord Frail searches for words. In the end, he decides on scrunching his nose in distaste and leaving with a mumbled, “manner less wench.”
“What did you just call her?” Jimin hisses, trying to draw his sword.
“Let him be”, you say, “he’s just a lord. His house consists of him and his servants.”
Jimin sends Lord Frail one last dark look and then he won’t ever see him again.
The ride home continues to be silent from then on and Lord Frail will leave the castle without receiving another word from you.
The horse Lord Frail borrowed from your castle waits by the stables once you return. You greet it with pets behind its ears and apologies for having to carry someone as smelly as Lord Frail. The horse seems to care rather little about what you say. You leave it by the stables, making your way to your chambers.
Jimin follows you.
You turn when you realise his presence.
“Why are you following me?”
Jimin glances down at his crotch. Your eyes follow his line of sight.
“I think you misunderstood something. I am leaving to get changed.”
“So am I”, Jimin says, taking a step closer.
“Jimin, please.”
“Riding with you messed with my mind”, he says, closing in on you until he could touch your waist.
“I could feel it.”
“I couldn’t help myself. I keep thinking about you and being so close to you, it reminded me how much I want to be with you.”
You are so weak in his presence. You truly wanted to keep distance to him, to give yourself time to think and to perhaps give him a chance to move on and yet you are back where you started, craving nothing but his presence. You miss him when you wake, when you fall asleep and when you see wonderful stuff you know he would love to see. Sharing such a laughter-filled afternoon with him, having him close as you rode and being reminded of how far you and he go back, reignited every single flame you tried to kill.
“Jimin, I…” you begin, placing your hands on his chest. His heart is racing just as quickly as yours does.
Jimin closes in, lowering his eyes halfway as he gazes at your lips. You inch closer, getting lost in the view of his lips.
“Oh, there you are my Queen”, Frigga says, stopping in her steps as he watches you and Jimin scramble to break apart.
“Are you feeling better now, my Queen? Do you still feel weak in the knees?” Jimin lies, holding your waist.
“Yes, I feel better. Thank you for catching me, Sire”, you lie, meeting Frigga’s eyes, “oh Frigga, how lucky that you are here. Might you help me out of my clothes? I suddenly feel terribly weak from riding.”
Frigga clears her throat, keeping her thoughts to herself. She hurries to your side and supports you, taking over for Jimin this way. She leads you away from him.
“Yes, my Queen. Shall I send for the physician?” she asks.
“No, no I am sure that food and something to drink will help me greatly.”
“I understand, then we will…”
The rest of the conversation dies out in Jimin’s ears as you and Frigga cross the corner and therefore disappear from his sight.
Jimin takes a deep breath, touching his chest where his heart races. He doesn’t feel bad, he feels hopeful. Of course he is upset that you and he got interrupted, but if Frigga hadn’t interrupted you and him, he would have been close to you again. You leaned in for a kiss. You haven’t given up on him yet. He giggles to himself, doing a small jump before he hurries away in happy skips. Today wasn’t as terrible as he thought it to be.
He will wash up and then wait for you in the hallways. Knowing your traditions, you will leave your chambers for a book from the library and that is when he will catch you again. Yes, that is his plan for the remaining day.
Jimin eats food in the dining hall with the others. He listens to Jinus talk about how awful Lord Frail’s company was and in return, Jimin tells him how he had to act as his stepping stool. The two knights proceed to call the lord many names, which will not be documented in these writings but one can imagine of what nature they were. After dinner, he still had to partake in an hour of training, but different than on other days, Jimin felt good. He felt happy and hopeful and terribly excited for what the night will bring.
Jimin tells the knights to have a good sleep after training and he makes his way to the library. He meets Frigga and your maids on his way, greeting them with a bright smile. Frigga’s eyes keep lingering on him, but Jimin ignores it, continuing his way to the library. He won’t be witness to the knowing gasp Frigga releases once she realises where his path will take him.
The library is empty during this hour of the day, but Jimin doesn’t let it intimidate him. He knows where to find you. You particularly enjoy the cultural section and always find yourself lost in the books. Tonight is no different. Dressed in a simple night gown and with your hair vast of jewellery, you stand by the cultural section with a book in your hand.
Jimin increases his steps, smiling so brightly his cheeks hurt. He begins running those last few steps. He cannot wait to be with you again.
You turn your head at the sound of steps in sync with Jimin sweeping you off your feet and pressing you against the shelf. You wanted to scream in shock, but don’t get to as Jimin claims your lips in a deep kiss.
The book falls to the ground, your lips tremble against his'. Your surprised sounds get swallowed by him.
Jimin rolls his hips into you and sighs, sucking on your lower lip as his heart races in his chest. He missed your kisses so much. He missed surprising you with them and how you always clutch him especially tightly as a result.
Tonight however, your desperate touch doesn’t come. Tonight, your hand presses itself between your lips as you begin wiggling in his hands until he can’t help but drop you.
“I don’t understand”, he confesses.
“Why would you do this? I gave you no permission”, you spit, carrying anger on your features.
“I, I thought that, that. You love when I surprise you here.”
“You have no idea what I want. All you care about is yourself”, you spit and push him away.
Jimin stumbles back, hitting the opposite bookshelf. His heart aches in his chest. Your words cut so very deep.
You turn and run away.
“I don’t understand. Why are you saying this?” he gets out, running after you, “my Queen what happened? Why are you acting this way?”
“I never should have come here. I’m such a fool”, you murmur to yourself.
“My Queen”, Jimin insists, touching your wrist gently, “what happened? I’m sorry for surprising you, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”
You turn around, looking at him with glassy eyes. Jimin closes in on you, carrying honest regret in his eyes.
“What’s the matter? Is it me? I’m sorry for acting like this.”
“She asked me about you, Jimin”, you get out with fear in your voice, “she knows what we are”, you add and continue your way back to your chambers.
“What? Wait, what?” Jimin stutters, “wait. What are you saying?” he asks as he begins running after you.
“Go away, Jimin”, you tell him, increasing your steps.
“Who asked about me?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. We are so wrong.”
“Who asked about me?” Jimin insists with increasing panic in his chest. He doesn’t like how you talk or how you act.
“Frigga. She saw that we touched each other and asked what it meant.”
“And what did you say?”
“Please, leave me alone. Please”, you beg, leaving the library. It isn’t far to your chambers anymore.
“My Queen”, Jimin follows you, “my Queen, please.”
You increase your steps. Tonight is not a good night for this. You feel weakened in spirit and crave his gentle touch. Frigga asked about him. She asked if perhaps you felt more for him than just friendship. You didn’t know what to say and so you sent her away. Now you are frightened. You do not want the public to find out and therefore shame Jimin. You can’t be responsible for him losing his honour. You are so scared and the worst of this situation was, that you craved his hugs as remedy.
“My Queen, please allow me but a moment”, he begs, taking one step where you take two. He knows these hallways well enough to be aware that he doesn’t have long until you can flee into your chambers, “please just a fleeting moment. I do not require much time.”
“You should go to bed, Jimin. It is too late”, you tell him, taking a sharp turn to the left. Your chambers are so close to reach.
“___ beloved, please.”
You falter in your steps. Your name from his lips stole your ability to walk. No one knows that he calls you beloved, whispered when he is deep inside you or gasped when you sink down on him. It happened naturally, he didn’t realise at first that these syllables fell from his tongue until you kissed him deeper than you ever had before and stole his breath in the process. Ever since then, your name followed by a term of endearment leaves him during moments most intimate. To be called this way right now, here in the dark, cold hallway where longing gets so painful to bear, robs you of every step you wanted to take. Jimin stops in order not to run into you. You don’t turn, but you also don’t run away anymore. You are breathing heavily, balling your hands into fists.
Jimin steps closer and brushes his hand down your arm. You tense up, biting your own lower lip to stop it from trembling. His touch returns warmth to your skin. Warmth, you missed like lungs miss air and plants miss sunlight.
“Please stop pushing me away. We can solve this together”, he speaks quietly, sharing a secret only meant for you.
A step closer.
His calloused hand closes around your elbow. You close your eyes. To be touched by him is the most painful of dreams. Why must he feel so good?
“I know that you are hurting. Please allow me take care of you”, he whispers, looking at your neck with longing, “allow me to ease the aches. Like I always did.”
You want to speak, but can’t. You can’t form words as the only word your tongue craves to produce is his name.
His arm lays itself around your waist and tugs you into his chest.
His heart is hammering against his ribcage. His warmth engulfs you in burning flames. Tears escape your eyes and leave cold trails down your cheeks.
His hand closes on your waist and squeezes. The touch digs into the deepest parts of you. It is so familiar and yet so foreign. A comfort estranged because of the distance you forced yourselves to be in.
“I miss you”, Jimin whispers with trembling emotion in his voice and brushes his nose against your neck. Vanilla and honey. He missed your scent so much.
You miss him as well. You miss his laughter, his voice, his embrace and the tenderness of his kisses. You miss him when you fall asleep, you miss him when you wake up and you miss him during the day. The grief for your late husband is only for the public, for the true reason you are grieving is your lost love with Jimin. You ache without him.
“It’s late Sire, go to bed”, you force the words out, stepping out of the hug even if you didn’t want to.
“My Queen…”
You leave without looking back because if you did, you would have fallen around his neck and begged him to stay. You can’t allow yourself to give in.
Jimin doesn’t follow you that night and you cry yourself to sleep.
He is talking. He should be the one asking questions and listening, but instead he has been talking about himself for the past hour. His name was Landor. Another suitor begging for a chance to be your second husband. He promises you lands in the north and strong children in the belly. Both of which sounded terrible to you.
He is currently laughing at one of his fooleries. You don’t think it entertaining and so you don’t laugh. He snorts as his way of stopping his bone twisting laughter, looking at you with self-assured confidence. He must think himself to be the most entertaining of fellow. He probably hadn’t even realised that you didn’t join his laughter.
“Thank you Sire, I shall send word with my decision”, you tell him and send him away with a flick of the wrist.
“My Queen, I await the splendid news with longing in my heart”, Landor says and leaves thinking that he completely charmed you. He won’t ever receive word from you.
The doors close and so you turn to your advisor.
“How much yapping do I still have to bear?” you ask her.
“There are still six contestants left, my Queen”, Frigga tells you and shows you the list. You skim over the names. None seems familiar to you and none catches your attention. Because none formed the name of the man you truly yearn for. You catch yourself looking at him.
He is standing behind Frigga, staring at the closed throne room doors with a stern expression. To others he seemed concentrated, but you know that he was upset. The tension in his jaw is familiar to you. You know that it only tortures his muscles when he is upset. He had this habit ever since he was a boy and on many nights, you soothed it away with soft touches to his jaw.
Jimin’s eyes flit to you, meeting your gaze for but a moment before you quickly look away. Your heart races unbearably. He caught you staring.
“Six, I see”, you press out, touching your own chest in hopes of calming down your heart, “bring in the next contestant.”
The doors open. You hope that it is enough to distract the people in the room and most importantly to distract Jimin. You glance at him again, feeling your heart twist in your chest. He is still looking at you, carrying heartbreaking longing in his dark brown eyes. The longing grows when your gazes meet, the tension in his jaw riffles and tightens.
You seemed tired today. Jimin felt tired as well. He didn’t find a lot of sleep last night, repeating what happened in the dark hallways over and over again. He tried to find answers to understand why you keep pushing him away. He fell asleep without finding what he looked for. Even now, as he looks into your eyes, he can’t find it.
You are plagued by thoughts of your own. You miss him. You miss his embrace, his kiss and his hands which fit so perfectly in yours. You miss him.
“My Queen!”
The voice of the next contestant rips you back to reality. You break your eyes away from Jimin and look at the man before you.
The next contestant for your hand in marriage was taller than Landor. His hair was grey and a lot thinner already and he seemed to have used some sort of animal grease to smudge it back. You scrunch your nose at the view, already hating the interaction.
“My Queen!” he speaks loudly and bows deeply, “my name is Sir Kanneth from Kanneth Height and I am here to ask for your hand.”
“Yes I am aware. Tell me why I should consider taking you as my husband.”
“I shall tell you through song, my Queen!” he says and slides a lute from his back.
You bite back your exhausted sigh. He is one of those men. Annoying peacocks who believe their mediocre singing and terrible song writing will impress you. You listen to the man sing about his great adventures, wishing that it was over soon.
No voice could impress you, not when you know how Jimin sings. He doesn’t sing often, mostly during quiet moments of the night when the candles are almost burned down and you feel relaxed in his arms, but whenever he does, you find yourself wishing for time to slow down just so you could listen to him longer. You glance at Jimin again. He is furrowing his brows as he is forced to listen to the contestant sing. He turns his head, meeting your gaze.
The terrible melodies drown out in your ears as you get lost in Jimin’s eyes. If you got up and ran away with him, would your life be happy?
“Wonderful! Oh how wonderful!” the cheers and applause of the court rips you back to your sad reality.
Sir Kanneth finished his song, bowing his head at you. You lift your hands and begin clapping.
“Impressive”, you say coldly, carrying no honesty in the statement.
Sir Kanneth leaves the throne room twenty minutes later. He won’t receive word either.
Neither will the third nor fourth contestant of the day. The fifth one enters the throne room, bearing gifts. Foreign food, which seem to be of his home country. He appears to be of your age and carries himself well. His ruby hair was long and reflected the light and his clothes were made of the finest of silks. You watch him with interested eyes.
He bows.
“Thranduin is my name. I come from far, far in the west”, he bows deeply, “my dearest condolences for your incredible loss, Your Highness. I too lost my first wife to the seas and I understand your grief.”
“Thank you for your well wishes”, you tell him, running your eyes up and down his body, “you don’t look like my other suitors.”
“Oh no”, he laughs and you think his laugh to be passable, “but when I got news that Queen ___ of the beautiful country of Windfell seeks a new husband, I had to get on my dragon and see you.”
“You have dragons in your country?”
“Yes indeed we do. We receive our companions once we pass two decades. Smogwyn is his name and he is a wonderful companion. I could introduce you to him if you wish.”
You don’t think that conversation with Thranduin is terrible or boring. As a matter of fact, he intrigues you, which hurts one person in the room more than anyone else. Jimin, stood behind you and with a careful eye on you, he stands witness to the laughable attempts of charming you the other men perform. He celebrates whenever one of your suitors gets send away by you, he judges whenever one says ridiculous stuff and he suffers now that you are standing up from your chair to descend the stairs.
“I would love to meet your companion, Sire. I have always dreamed of seeing a dragon.”
“Then I shall introduce you to him. I promise he doesn’t bite.”
You laugh and while Thranduin seems delighted, Jimin almost bites his own teeth out from tensing his jaw so tightly.
His agonies continue as his duties drag him with you. He follows behind while you and Thranduin talk. He clutches the handle of his sword tightly while his mind produced the most sinister of thoughts. If he was quick enough, he could cut Thranduin’s head off and throw his body over the edge of the railing. The cliff would be high enough and the sea punishing enough to take care of the rest. Naturally, he doesn’t give in to his thoughts even if every laugh you spill because of this stranger makes him wish he did.
Smogwyn, the dragon, is outside the capital gates. Down the windy road which leads to the rocky beaches of the capital. People had already gathered on top the walls to look at the foreign animal. The dragon covers an impressive amount of land, dragging a gasp out of you.
“By the heavens, this animal is enormous!”
“Indeed he is, eventhough he is still growing.”
“He is? Oh how incredible. How big will he be once he stops growing?”
“About twice his current size.”
“Oh, I am awestruck. This is the most unbelievable thing I have ever seen.”
“Shall I call him to us?”
“Oh heavens I am a little frightened, but yes call him.”
Thranduin whistles with the help of his fingers.
The red scaled dragon lets out a grumble so deep the earth shakes and lifts his head. He takes a step where humans would have to take seven, shaking the water each time he connects his clawed foot with the ground.
You are standing on the high bridge which connects the capital with the Queendom’s many islands. The dragon reaches above the bridge, taking up your entire vision as he moves his head close.
You squeak in frightened excitement, stumbling back. Your hand closes around Jimin’s in instinct. His heart stops in his chest, his stomach clenches. You haven’t noticed that you are holding his hand as you are mesmerised by the dragon. Thranduin hasn’t noticed either, he is too preoccupied with petting his scaled companion.
“Oh, this is frightening”, you say and squeak in laughter.
The dragon moves his head, taking in your scent.
“Oh heavens”, you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut as the dragon’s nose stubs your body. He breathes in and exhales, blowing warm winds around your body and Jimin’s. The dust on the ground swirls, your dress sways aggressively. The air smells like glowing coal. But everything Jimin can take in, is your hand squeezing his’ and your back pressing against his chest as you flee from the dragon.
The dragon grumbles and lifts his head.
“Oh this was thrilling!” you exclaim, letting go of Jimin’s hand to clap. You jump on the spot, beaming at Thranduin, “a dragon smelled me! Oh Sire, I am bouncing in excitement. This was incredible!”
Jimin balls his hand to a tight fist, staring at your glowing face with pain in his heart. You gave him so much happiness with the touch and yet you haven’t even realised that you did it.
“He seems to enjoy your company, Your Highness”, Thranduin says, “I must say that I share this feeling with him.”
“Oh dear”, you fluster.
Jimin tenses his jaw, gripping the handle of his sword. He would most definitely be eaten by the dragon if he tried anything right now, but it would be worth it. This man angers him beyond imagination.
You step closer to Thranduin.
“May I touch him? Please just once.”
“Of course. Give me your hand, I shall guide you to him.”
And so Jimin has to watch as you place your hand into the palm of a stranger. This is the hand he held mere moments ago and now you are giving it away. Jimin forces down tears and turns his back to you. He can’t bear to watch this any longer. He can hear you squeal and squeak behind him as Thranduin, the twat, guides your hand over the rough scales of the dragon. He can hear you laugh and giggle as Thranduin calls out your beauty once again. And he can hear you talk with great vigour in your voice as you ask more questions about the dragons and the customs of Thranduin’s country.
He doesn’t look at you until it was time to leave for the castle again. And while he puts more distance between you and him, you seem to walk closer to Thranduin.
You stop by the throne room doors.
“Will you stay in Windfell for long, Sire?” you ask Thranduin.
“I can stay for as long as you wish me to, Your Highness. I have many more stories to tell”, Thranduin says, making you smile.
“Then you shall stay for dinner. I want to know everything you have to tell and try the foods you brought.”
“As you wish, Your Highness. I shall stay for dinner. I am certain that my country’s cuisine will bring you great enjoyment. Food is very important in our culture.”
“You have me interested, Sire. I enjoy food a great lot.”
“It seems that we share yet another similarity, Your Highness”, he says and makes you laugh.
Truly, Jimin wishes that he could slice him.
The sixth contestant of the day gets sent home with the promise that tomorrow will be another day, while Thranduin gets led to one of the empty guest quarters to prepare for dinner.
You hurry to your own chambers, followed by Frigga and Jimin. While Frigga helps you with getting dressed behind your privacy screen, Jimin is destined to stand by your door. He tries not to, but still looks at you. The privacy screen feels like mockery to him. Your naked body is a landscape most familiar to Jimin and yet you hide away from him. He is aware why you do it, as his explorations were secret to even Frigga, and he also knows that he has no right to your body even if you and he were husband and wife, but he still feels mocked today. Your friendly nature with Thranduin made him irrationally jealous and upset.
“He seemed to have caught your attention, my Queen”, Frigga says, twisting a knife in Jimin’s heart with her words.
“Oh yes, his dragon is most interesting”, you say, “I hope to hear many more stories about them.”
“My Queen, you make it sound as if everything which was intriguing about the man was his dragon”, Frigga jokes and laughs.
You falter for a moment. Frigga can’t see it as she is busy tying your dress at the back, but Jimin can. The privacy screen is low enough that your heads are still poking out. Jimin watches how a sort of realisation washes over you and how embarrassment replaces it.
“Well, I”, you let out a breathy laugh, lowering your head as you shake it, “you speak of silly things, Frigga.”
Frigga giggles, “my apologies. You know that I jest way too much.”
You laugh, nodding your head. But the realisation still remains on your features.
Jimin stares at it with a racing heart. Perhaps he looked at the entire situation with incorrect eyes. Perhaps Thranduin was never exciting to you, but the dragon and stories he brings. Perhaps the man will ruin his chances with you just as all the other men did. A dragon and little stories will only be interesting to you that long before you realise that the man itself won’t bring you satisfaction.
Your eyes flit to Jimin and meet his gaze and for the first time today, he feels confident in holding eye contact. You break it sooner than him, touching the side of your own neck. You don’t look at him again while Jimin feels his lips curl into a triumphant smile. Your eyes said everything he needed to know. You just lost interest in the man.
Fate however soon shows him that it wasn’t as easy as he thought it to be. You seem entirely entranced by the man’s every word during dinner. You look at him, laugh at his jokes, ask for more stories and once dinner ends, you ask him if he felt in the mood for honey wine in the castle gardens. And while Jimin wanted to follow you as your guard, you told him that he was free for the night, leaving him behind as you left for wine with Thranduin. Jimin felt so angered by the entire situation that he dared to kick the sturdy stone wall when nobody saw him.
The castle sleeps except for a few night owls still playing card games in the dining halls. They share wine and sweet delicacies of your country. Butter cookies with a pinecone jelly filling. The taste is most exquisite and goes excellent with the honey wine of the castle’s brewery. You drank quite a lot of the honey wine tonight, so much in fact that you try not to let the people see you as you hurry to your bed chambers. It would be beyond humiliating to show yourself in such a state to the public. It is already embarrassing enough that Thranduin had to help you to your feet as you felt too drunk to walk on your own. Speaking of the latter, you left him by his guest quarters, promising him breakfast in the dining hall tomorrow.
Frigga and your maids are asleep by now. You are glad that they are, because you couldn’t bear to hear their teasing comments about your intoxicated state. They would most definitely think your jolly nature to be of love drunk origin, but it wasn’t. You were drunk. Nothing less and nothing more. Thranduin was good company, his stories were thrilling and you loved learning about dragons. He was also very handsome and a scent of what he called a “coconut” surrounded him. But you didn’t find your heart beating faster for him. He felt more like a good friend to you than a potential husband. You were too drunk to think about the meaning of said feelings however, all you knew is that you had a good evening and that you felt ready for bed.
You slip inside your chambers, closing the doors behind you. You use them to catch your balance for a moment, propping your hand against the wood as you take a few deep breaths. You are jolly drunk, by the heavens.
You let a small giggle escape. It has been too long since you last felt that carefree. You missed the feeling so incredibly much.
“Ah heavens”, you let out and turn to hurry to the dressing area. You want to get out of your clothes. They have been torturing you for too long.
It is a rather difficult task to undress. It is already very hard to do alone on a sober day and with the additional help of alcohol, it gets almost impossible. You find yourself sitting down on the floor and undoing the intricate lacing of your dress this way. You also take off your jewellery this way, giggling to yourself because you felt rather silly sitting on the floor. Truly, you feel so entirely carefree tonight.
You abandon your clothes and jewellery on the ground, stepping from behind the privacy screen in nothing but your undergarments. You need to take the hair jewellery out and take care of your skin and then you can finally fall into bed. You stumble past your bed, letting out a loud scream when you see a figure sitting on it. You squint your eyes to see better.
“Jimin?!” you exclaim, stumbling closer, “by heavens, you gave me such a fright! I believed you to be an intruder. Oh dear”, you giggle at first until realisation overcomes you, “why are you in my chambers? Have you always been here? Did you sit in silence like a ghost while I undressed?!”
Jimin nods his head. He is wearing nothing more than a thigh-length sleeping tunic and some comfortable linen pants. His sword is on the mattress beside him and his hair lacks volume from brushing it.
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“You seem drunk”, he ignores your question, scanning his eyes up and down your body.
“Indeed I am. I drank way too much honey wine.”
“I can see that. You shouldn’t drink that much. You’re the queen.”
“Oh come now”, you let out a mocking scoff, “did you truly just say that?”
He nods his head, tightening his jaw.
“This isn’t yours to say.”
“I worry.”
“Well, don’t. It soils my mood.”
Jimin tongues his cheek, lowering his eyes in annoyance.
You break your eyes away from him and walk to your dressing table. You don’t feel as jolly drunk anymore as you did before. As a matter of fact, you feel rather terrible. He was the reason why you drank so much. You wanted to forget him and the burning feelings you harbour for him and seeing him on your bed presented in such an intimate way brought everything, you managed to forget about, back to the surface. You are so irrationally angry at him.
Jimin watches you barely manage to sit down. If the chair wasn’t as sturdy in its balance as it was, you most definitely would have doubled over.
You begin taking out your hair pearls, doing so with swaying shoulders and lazy eyes.
Jimin takes a deep breath and gets up from bed. He walks to the dining area of your room and prepares a jug of water for you. The waters in your queendom are as clear as crystal and healing to drink. While other queendoms struggle to find safe drinking water, your queendom lives in abundance. You especially enjoy the taste of it when you wake up in the middle of the night and its temperature feels especially cold on your tongue.
Jimin places the full jug on the dressing table. You look at it, then at the reflection of him in your mirror. His jaw carried tension.
“Drink it. You will get a headache otherwise”, he tells you.
“I didn’t ask for water.”
“And I didn’t ask to be treated like shit. It seems we both didn’t get what we asked for.”
You break your eyes away from him, gulping the water down in an attempt to rid yourself of the painful lump in your throat.
The silence is suffocating. He keeps staring at you, standing right behind you. You feel so much aching pressure on your heart, struggling to undo the pearls in the back. Jimin nudges your hands away gently and takes over for you. Your eyes meet in the mirror. He is frowning while you can barely keep the eye contact alive. He breaks it first, looking down at your head as he helps you with your hair.
Jimin helped you with your hair on many occasions in the past. He studied as your hair dressers styled it and studied how they prepared it for bed and then one night he asked if he could be the one preparing it for you. You allowed him and ever since that night, he often took care of your hair while you looked at him through the mirror.
To have him take care of you tonight breaks your heart into a million pieces. You are so lonely without him.
Jimin removes the last of your hair pearls, leaning over to place them in the big sea shell on your table. The seas of your queendom were filled with the most wonderful of shells, some even bigger than your head. It is a common occurrence that empty shells wash up at the shores and for the bowl makers of the capital to create the most wonderful bowls and trinkets out of them. Shell bowls and boxes are scattered all throughout your chambers, holding your jewellery and other treasures.
Jimin’s middle presses into your back as he leans over. The sensation steals your air. It ends too soon for your taste, but you know not to reach behind you and pull him closer like you so often did in the past. You shouldn’t do this anymore. As a matter of sad fact, you never should have allowed it to come this far that you began pulling him closer for more.
Jimin picks up the brush which your brush makers fabricated out of shells and natural bristles especially for your hair. It always leaves your hair feeling healthy and Jimin learned how to use it correctly in order to care for you.
It feels so good to have him untangle your hair, but it also makes you ache. He knows you so well and takes such great care of you. You miss him so much.
You reach for the jug of water quickly to distract yourself from your feelings.
“You held my hand today”, Jimin says into the heavy silence.
You choke on your water, spilling some as you set the jug down hastily. You cough, looking at Jimin again.
The latter lands gentle slaps to your upper back to get rid of your cough. It helps.
“What are you saying?” you get out, clearing your throat to rid yourself of the last tickles.
“Down by the beach, when the dragon came close. You held my hand.”
You shake your head, “I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. And then you gave it away to Thranduin”, Jimin scrunches his nose in jealous disgust, “the only thing this man can bring you, is the stench of dragon and boring stories. Even his food lacked flavour and I am sure he fucks just as bland.”
“What’s wrong with you?” you gasp, feeling honestly shocked at his harsh words. It is unlike him to allow his dialect to come through.
“Nothing. I am merely saying it how it is.”
“Well, you are incorrect. I shared a wonderful evening with him. He is good company.”
“Good’s just passing in disguise. You deserve more than good company.”
“He has potential to become great company.”
“Of course”, Jimin says and scoffs, turning his back to you to walk back to the bed, “you’re a terrible jester.”
You stand up, looking at him with dark eyes.
“I felt so jolly tonight. Why must you ruin it like this?”
“Because I’m in misery and I’m selfish and awful enough that I don’t want you to be happy with someone who isn’t me.”
“I see”, you let out and scoff, “you truly are selfish.”
“Yes, indeed I am. I am the most selfish bastard you will ever meet and you know who I learned this from?”
You don’t answer him.
“You. You made me your servant, took my innocence, gave me glimpses of a life with you only to push me away once your joke of a husband spent his time and rotted away and you finally began feeling guilty enough. You are the most selfish person I have ever seen.”
“Why would you say that?” you gasp, feeling yourself tear up.
“Because I am tired of being treated this way by you.”
“Treated this way? You are my knight and nothing more. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“Leave you alone? I went from holding you in my arms and feeling your love to being pushed away and treated like vermin by you within the blink of an eye. Tell me how this should make me feel. How I should live with the ache in my heart.”
“You know why I had to push you away.”
“No. No, I don’t because you never gave me an explanation. He died”, Jimin points out at the sea, “and suddenly I wasn’t good enough anymore, because we are both well aware that your horrific futures wouldn’t ever have happened. They were never the reason why you pushed me away. I merely stopped being good enough and I am tired of running after you. Please just give me a reason why I stopped being good enough for you.”
“I do not owe you an explanation, I am your Queen.”
“Yes, you are my Queen, but you are also my best friend and the woman I love and you loved me as well. The least I deserve is an explanation.”
You loved him.
The word hurts.
Loved is incorrect.
You love him.
You still do.
You still love him. You never stopped.
But you have to push him away. You and he are wrong for each other. There are no two souls which are actually so right for each other, but society makes you wrong. In another life where no ranks or duties differentiate you and him, you could be happy. But not here. Not in the real world.
“There is no explanation. I am your queen and you did your duties. I apologise if I made it seem as if there was more behind it.”
Jimin tears up, but continues to talk. His heart aches too much not to. He isn’t rational right now, led by emotions and he needs to say everything which was on his mind.
“Why are you saying this? Why would you lie? Who are you pretending for? It’s just us right now. Why do you pretend to feel nothing for me?”
“I am not pretending. I feel nothing for you.”
Jimin closes the distance between you and him. You stumble back until the edge of the desk digs into your thighs. Jimin acts quickly, lifting you up on the table with such vigour that you make a sound without wanting to. He is between your legs, pressing his middle against your own while his hands are on your waist. You feel short of breath, gulping repeatedly in an attempt to get air back into your lungs.
“Go on tell me that this doesn’t make you feel anything”, Jimin whispers, drawing patterns between your eyes and your lips with his mesmerising gaze, “tell me that this means nothing to you and I will leave you to find unhappiness with a stranger.”
“Jimin I…” you breathe shakily, fighting your eyes as they flit to his lips. You lose the fight. His lips are glistening in the candle lights, looking like rose petals in colour even in the dim room. The scent of his vanilla lip oil meets your nose. You crave his kiss like water “…please.”
“Push me away, ___.”
“Why would you do this to me? Why can’t you listen?”
“Because I can’t give up on you. Not without help, so push me away. That is all you have to do. Push me away.”
You place your hands on his chest. His heart is racing uncontrollably. You give him a gentle nudge.
“This isn’t enough. Push me away”, Jimin insists, fighting your weak pushes.
You try again, spilling tears.
“Push me away. Do it, ___.”
You can’t push him away. You need him. You can’t survive without him.
“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. You drop your hands from his chest, grabbing his waist, “no”, you whisper and tug him into a hug. You rest your head on his chest, shaking it, “no. You are good enough, Jimin. You are too good for me in fact. I have to marry for power, but you should marry for love. I’m so selfish to keep you with me. You are not supposed to be a secret.”
Jimin closes his arms around you and presses you close.
“It’s alright. I’m just as selfish.”
“No. No, it’s not fair to you”, you shake your head.
“Sending me away will break me more than being your secret”, Jimin insists, stopping your vigorous head shaking gently. He brushes his palm down the back of your head repeatedly, “I know you are scared, but we will figure this out. We will do it together like we always did. Please don’t let seventeen years go to waste, ___.”
You exhale shakily, looking up at him with tears covering your cheeks.
Jimin’s eyes are filled with reassurance, a warm smile curls his lips. He cups your cheeks to dry your tears. You lean into the touch, finally finding the comfort you craved for too long.
“We will find a way together. Yes?” he whispers.
You nod your head.
“Yes, we will”, he says and watches as you furrow your brows sadly, “what’s the matter?”
“I want to marry you”, you confess, “but if I can’t find a strong companion, my queendom will be without protection. My late husband never expected love from me, we were friends and I loved him dearly as such and now he is dead and I am destined to find someone to fill his place. I am frightened, Jimin. I do not want to pretend to love a stranger. Why did he have to die and leave me to fend for myself?”
“You are not alone. I’m by your side. I will always be by your side.”
“I know”, you blink your tears away, “I’m so grateful that you are”, you say and cup his cheeks.
He leans into the touch, lowering his eyes in the fondest of ways. He slides his left hand to the small of your back, while his right engulfs the nape of your neck. He tugs you closer, eliciting a whimper from you. You tilt your head up, closing your eyes to get lost in the kiss. But the kiss never comes. At least not on your lips. He kisses the tears from your cheeks before placing soft kisses on your sensitive neck, on the spots where it feels the best.
“Jimin….” you sigh, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. Your fingers grasp his tunic and twist it desperately, your legs close around him to tug him closer. You feel breathless. This is the kind of feeling you know to be attraction. This is how you feel when you crave someone’s touch. One kiss to your neck is enough to send your body into a blurred state of happiness.
Jimin lifts his pillowy lips from your neck. You chase him, even going so far as to slide your hand to his neck to pull him back, but he is stronger. He brushes his lips over your ear as he speaks.
“I won’t go further than this tonight. You are drunk and I am the last person who would make an indecent woman out of you.”
“I don’t care. I’m indecent with you”, you say, grabbing his hair to pull him close, “kiss me, Jimin. Please.”
Jimin allows you to win the fight and drag him into a kiss. It is a messy kiss. You are so drunk that you barely have coordination over your mouth. To you it felt like the most wonderful of kisses, but to Jimin it felt wet and just a little sloppy. He still kissed you back because he missed your kiss so much it became hard to breathe. He swallows the crude moans you let out while his hands touch your backside. You arch your back, rolling your hips into him. His calloused hands slide under your behind and lift you from the table. You moan, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you to bed. You are rubbing yourself against him, feeling suffocated in need. You missed him so much. You missed him. Missed him. Missed him.
Jimin places you in the sheets, but doesn’t climb on top of you. Instead he keeps one foot grounded on the floor, while the knee of his other rests between your opened legs. He breaks the kiss, brushing the back of his hand down your cheek.
“Sleep tight, ___ beloved”, he whispers and steps back.
“Jimin…please…”
He gives you a bow before turning his back to you and leaving your chambers. He keeps his sword on your bed as a symbol that he hasn’t left your life tonight.
The doors fall closed.
You touch your lips, gasping for air. He left you. He did so little tonight and yet your heart is hammering in your chest.
“Fuck”, you whisper, staring at his sword.
That night you do unspeakable things with its handle. Things so indecent that they couldn’t possibly be mentioned in these writings. And the most humiliating part was that you weren’t ashamed of them.
You don’t let the court know how hungover you felt. Frigga and your maids woke you two hours after the sun rose and helped you freshen up. They asked how you enjoyed the evening with Thranduin and you could simply smile and tell them that you had a good time with him. They missed how you ogled Jimin’s sword as you spoke the words.
Once they dressed you for breakfast, you left your chambers. You take Jimin’s sword with you, even if your servants seemed confused about its presence for a moment.
“He must have forgotten it as I got ready for the evening with Thranduin”, you lied and they didn’t probe any further.
“My Queen”, Jimin joins your side on the hallways. He is dressed in his armour and carries his spare sword. He bows at you, giving you a miniscule smile as he straightens up again. Happiness surrounds him today and you feel the same.
“Sire”, you greet him with a curtsey, stifling a giggle, “I noticed that you forgot your sword in my chambers.”
“Truly? I did? Oh how clumsy of me. I already looked for it everywhere this morning”, he says, “I must have forgotten it as you got ready for your evening with Thranduin.”
“I already figured that much. Worry not, I brought it with me”, you say and offer it to him.
Jimin accepts it with a bow of his head. He holds it by his sheath at first, furrowing his brows as his eyes scan over the handle.
Your heart flutters. He noticed.
He touches it, lifting his brows in surprise when he feels the sinful residue you left on it.
His eyes meet yours and widen. He knows. You allow a small smile to curl your lips. Oh how you are fighting with your giggles. His shocked face is such a delight.
“You should take better care of your swords, Sire”, you tell him and continue your strut to the dining hall.
Jimin stands and stares until even the last of your servants passed him. He waits until their chatters and giggles became quieter in the hallway and only then, he dares to brush his fingers against his nose. If he wasn’t yet sure about what covered his sword, he received all the reassurance he needed with just one inhale. He gulps and finds himself feeling dizzy. You pleasured yourself with his sword. With burning cheeks and his heart racing in his chest, he sets off to follow you. Today will be a difficult day. Oh how he yearns for you.
Thranduin is already in the dining hall when you enter it. He stands up and closes the distance between you and him. “Your Highness, you look lovely this morning”, he greets you and reaches for your hand to kiss it.
Jimin places the sword on his wrist. He kept it in its sheath, holding it by its soiled handle. Only he gets to touch it on this spot. You feel beyond excited at the view, which further proves how no other man could ever inflict the same feelings in you. You have a handsome suitor kissing your hand and yet the thought that Jimin touches the handle you marked brings you more joy than such a romantic gesture.
“The Queen prefers to be asked before she gets touched”, Jimin tells a baffled Thranduin. He glances at you, giving you a small smile. One you retort with a fluttering heart.
“Oh? I, I”, Thranduin stutters, “please forgive my manners. I must have believed that I had a right to a hand kiss after last night.”
You pull your hand free.
“No please, I took no offense. You must forgive my guard. He is overly protective”, you say and strut to the tables, “now, shall we have breakfast? I must say that I am starving.”
Conversation with Thranduin is great again. You feel comfortable with him and honestly laughed. Jimin didn’t mind bearing witness to them today. He knew of your true feelings, the sword he keeps clutching was proof enough. What you are currently doing was for show.
You ask Thranduin if he and his escorts felt in the mood for a game of Stickball in the castle’s garden. He agreed and so you find yourselves playing stickball in the gardens.
Stickball was an incredibly fun game which originated in your queendom long, long before your time. Back in its beginnings, people used sticks they found on trees to carry a spherical stone to a basket on the ground without dropping it. Over time one basket became multiple baskets placed over the playing field. These days, there are tools for the game and it is played whilst sharing honey wine and pine cone jelly biscuits. You refuse the wine today.
Thranduin is busy with his play and the others on the court are busy with exchanging cultural stories, so only Jimin bears witness to your refusal.
You stand under the shadow of a tree, leaning your weight onto your sticks, when he closes in to whisper.
“Does someone regret last night?” he is teasing.
You still feel drunk enough to feel the need to tease as well. You turn your head so your noses almost touch.
“You carry proof of how much I regret last night in your hand. Need I say more?” you whisper, ending it with a seductive look to his lips.
Jimin flusters, taking a step back.
You chuckle, leaving him under the shadow as you join Thranduin’s side.
“You seem to know your way around this game very well, Sire.”
“You must be mocking me right now. I am truly terrible at it.”
You laugh.
“But you are talented for your first time. Not everyone manages to keep the ball balanced for such a long time.”
“You believe so? Well, then I feel good in my play”, he jokes and seconds later, drops the ball. You and he share in laughter.
“See? I am terrible.”
“Fret not, it took me a long time to get good at the game”, you say and pick up your ball, “I shall show you how it is done.”
“I have to look thoroughly then”, Thranduin says and laughs when seconds later you drop the ball as well.
“Oh by the heavens, I-”, you let out and glance at him, “I must insist this only happened because I am still drunk.”
“Yes, yes tell yourself such lies, Your Highness”, Thranduin teases and picks up his ball for another try.
The game is amazing fun. Thranduin is wonderful company. You joke, exchange stories, laugh and have fun. He feels like a friend you have known for a long time. But this is as far as your interest for him goes. Friendship.
Your feelings for the situation became so painfully obvious to you now that you had the memory of last night replaying in your head. You liked Thranduin as a friend and hope to continue this friendship, but your heart lies with your knight. You do not want to deny those feelings any longer.
Thranduin is currently busy exchanging stories with Frigga. You and he already moved on to the fifth basket on the playing field. There were still ten more to go. Now experiencing a moment of silence, you begin looking for Jimin. He is standing with the other guards under the shade of the trees. His eyes meet yours instantly and light up. He smiles, you retort it.
The heat of the sun, the lightheartedness of the game and the lingering wine in your veins blurs your sense of care today. And so you listen to the voices of your heart and make your way to Jimin.
Not before interrupting Thranduin’s story for a quick, “I feel the need to freshen up. I shall return shortly. Frigga, you can play in my stead.”
“Are you feeling alright, my Queen?” she asks.
“Yes, yes I just drank too much and need to use the private chambers.”
“Understood, my Queen”, she says with a nod of her head.
“I shall attempt to get better till you are back”, Thranduin jokes, eliciting a small laugh from you before you officially excuse yourself.
Jimin straightens up in giddy nervousness once he sees you strutting to him confidently. His heart is racing. He didn’t expect to be approached with such confidence.
“I need to freshen up”, you tell him.
“Yes, my Queen”, he says and leaves his spot to tail behind you.
You pass a few people on your way through your gardens. They greet you with bows while you greet them with a smile. You manage to get as far as the lower hallways and then loneliness surrounds you. No other people are in sight.
Jimin looks around. Left, right, front and back. You and he are alone. There is a broom cabinet to your right. Jimin looks at you and grabs his soiled sword. This is his chance.
He closes the distance and touches your waist.
“Oh”, you gasp in surprise, squeaking when he twirls you and pushes, “what are you doing? Jimin, what-”, an unflattering, yet honest cackle leaves you, "heavens, you."
Jimin pushed you into the broom cabinet. It is big enough to house hip high dressers and ceiling high shelves. Your gardeners use it to store their equipment in here, as well as pillows for the garden. He kicks the door closed and uses the soiled sword to seal it from inside. Then he turns, grabbing you again to lift you off your feet and onto the dresser.
You grab for him, pulling him into a kiss in sync with him leaning into it. It results in your teeth colliding with each other.
“Careful”, you giggle, smiling into the kiss.
“Forgive me”, he mumbles and claims your lips in a passionate kiss. He doesn’t care about the clumsy mess-up, not when he wants you achingly.
You moan and pull him closer. Your limbs wrap around him, your hands grasp him desperately. You need him closer and no matter how close you and he are, it isn’t enough. This is everything you wanted for weeks. To go without his kiss was torture.
“I can’t breathe”, Jimin confesses between kisses, “I’m ruined.”
“Jimin, closer”, you beg, pulling him into a kiss. Your tongue traces his lips. He grants you access instantly, allowing you to show him the tempo. Desperate. Messy. With barely any honour. You grind yourself against him and in return, he can’t stop rolling his hips into you. This is scandalous. No decorum is left. You have never needed each other more than you do right now. You can’t be mannerly, not when your very souls need to be connected.
You tug at the straps of his shoulder plates. It takes some time to take off his armour, but you have practice with it. Too many times you and he had to be quick. Too many times, you had to be fast in undressing each other because little time was all that you had. You learned how to do it in a haste. You studied his armour until you knew where it was easiest to open.
You tug the correct strap open. His shoulder plates fall off of him. Jimin moans and pulls you closer. His right arm is around your waist, pressing you into him. The kiss to your lips breaks because he needed to worship your neck. He does it sloppily and with desperate whimpers leaving him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you”, he moans between kisses, “what you did with my sword. It drives me mad.”
“I had to. You left me alone”, you moan, struggling as you open the straps for his chest plate. He is sucking on your skin, kissing the spots most sensitive and kneading your flesh with desperate fingers all while his hips keep rolling into you as if he was already fucking you.
You open the strap. His chest plate falls off, his back plate follows as well. Now he is before you in nothing but his linen shirt tugged into his pants. You grab it desperately, feeling him up through the fabric. It is damp because it was a hot day and armour makes one very hot. The sensation makes you moan. He is so heated up, so undoubtedly him. There is no one else who gets to feel him when he is this way.
“I need to have you, please”, he begins begging because your touch through such a thin shirt is hard to bear.
“Open my dress”, you order as you are busy tugging his shirt from his pants.
“You have too much lacing. Why must you wear such a dress today?” he whines as he tries to open it.
You giggle, Jimin does as well. You and he shared this struggle on many occasions, but today it feels special. It fills your hearts with happiness because such a struggle meant that you and he were finally together again.
“I felt beautiful.”
“You are beautiful”, Jimin says and struggles, “fuck, I can’t do it this way”, he says and swoops you off the dresser to put you down in front of him. He twirls you so your back is facing him.
“You are so indecent”, you giggle, pressing your behind into him while he gets busy with your lacing.
“I learned from you”, he answers you, meeting your hips in rolls of his own.
Jimin manages to unlace your dress quickly in this position. He tugs it open and pushes it down your shoulders. It falls to the floor. You turn and allow him to lift you out of the fabric heap. You squeak and giggle as you do, pulling him into a kiss.
He feels weakened. He stumbles and falls against the shelves, sliding you down until your feet touch the ground. You pin him against the shelves instantly, kissing him so deeply Jimin finds it difficult to stand. His hands are holding you by your waist, his fingers dimple your flesh. Your underdress is made out of a thin fabric. It is as if he was already touching your bare skin. You are heated up as well, forcing moans to the tip of his tongue. There is no better feeling than that of your warm body.
His sword falls to the ground. You opened the belt, allowing it to drop. The sound doesn’t startle Jimin. In fact, he barely hears it as his ears are filled with nothing but your moans and heavy breathing.
Seconds later, he feels your hand slide down his pants. You find him instantly, rubbing him vigorously.
“___”, he moans breathily, breaking the kiss just so he can rest his forehead against yours and shudder in pleasure. He throbs in your hand, soiling your palm with his wet pleasure.
“You are so hard”, you croak, playing with his sensitive tip. You squeeze it gently, forcing more of his wetness to leak.
“Please can I h-have you?” he begs in a pitched voice and his knees trembling uncontrollably.
“I shouldn’t allow you. As punishment for abandoning me last night”, you taunt.
“Please, oh-” he nips at your jawline, “I wanted to be respectful, I- oh please.”
“I had to pleasure myself with your sword. Do you have any idea how desperate that left me? How humiliating it was? I couldn’t stop until my legs shook, Jimin.”
“Please”, he breathes out, collapsing into you before he catches himself again. His forehead rests against the side of your face, his pillowy lips brush over your cheek as he fights for air, “I’m sorry.”
“Mhm Jimin, you are such a treasure when you beg”, you rasp, slipping your hand out of his pants, “you can fuck me.”
“My Queen”, Jimin mewls and falls to his knees before you. He runs his hands up your legs, gazing at you with utter devotion in his eyes, “my beloved ___”, he croaks, punching up your dress with his hands as his lips worship your inner thighs.
Your breath shudders, your heart skips too many beats. He is so out of breath, so obviously ruined, kissing his way up your inner thighs until your heat is under his lips. The dress covers most of his face this way, his strong hands are on your hips keeping you close.
His wet tongue suddenly laps at your heat, sending fiery pleasure through your veins.
“Ah! Jimin!” you moan loudly, throwing your head back as your hands try to grab his hair. You sway because it gets difficult to keep yourself standing when he is using his mouth in such desperate manners.
He is sucking and licking you vigorously, producing the most sinful of sounds. He is moaning as well, letting you know how much enjoyment he finds in the taste of you. His strong, calloused fingers keep kneading you desperately, leaving marks of sensitivity all over your skin.
“I missed you”, he gets out, pulling you onto his face until there is nothing but your scent filling his nose and your taste coating his tongue. He flicks it quickly, slurping up the masses of saliva his greedy mouth produces. He is untamed in the way he tastes you.
Jimin is a very mannerly lover. Too much he worries to soil your treasured heat with disrespectful oral. Most times it was you who had to tell him to let manners by the door. So to have him so unapologetically feast on you as if you were his last meal truly ruins you. Especially when you had to go without his touch for months.
Jimin takes your clit between his puffy lips and sucks, growling and moaning around you as his lips truly come to good use in massaging you just right.
“Oh Jimin, I’m close”, you confess in a squeak, fighting gravity. Your fingers tug on his hair painfully.
Jimin chuckles, sucking on your clit one more time before he tilts his head up. Your dress ruffled his hair, his puffy lips are wet in your sweetness, as his chin. His eyes gleam in dark pleasure and hungry desire, running up and down your body.
“I barely did anything”, he is teasing because he knows that he is allowed to do so.
“It has been months for me as well”, you defend yourself, giving his hair a gentle tug, “do not make fun of me.”
“I’m not. I love when you are like this”, Jimin smiles, squeezing your hips, “I want to fuck you so good”, he rasps as he rests his chin against your lower tummy, gazing up at you like a love drunk puppy. He sticks his behind out for it, looking truly to die for.
You ruffle his hair, “you and your dirty mouth. Get your cock out. Now.”
“Yes, my Queen”, Jimin obeys.
He takes his cock out of his pants, sitting on the ground as you keep him down with just a look. Jimin loves following your orders and there are no orders sweeter than when you tell him exactly what to do during sex.
He kneels once he is bared, keeping his hands on his sculpted thighs. His tunic, punches up on them, hiding his cock from you. You glance at it. Jimin fixes it instantly, stuffing the fabric behind his cock so it was visible to you.
“So good for me”, you praise, running the back of your hand down his cheek.
Jimin closes his eyes halfway, chasing your touch with a sigh.
“Sit down so I can get comfortable.”
“Yes, my Queen.”
You place your hands on his shoulders once he fixed the position and lower yourself, sitting comfortably on his lap. He touches your waist, meeting your fond gaze with even greater fondness.
“I’m happy”, you confess.
“I’m happy too”, he answers you and gives you a gentle tug, “I want you. Please.”
“Yes. Yes, I want you as well”, you say and lift yourself to fix your positions. Jimin wraps his hand around his length, keeping it straight so you could slide down on him with ease. There is no friction, no discomfort. Just warmth and the overwhelming feeling of reconnecting with each other.
“___”, Jimin moans, looking up at you with glassy eyes. His lids flutter, his fingers dimple your behind, “I missed you so much. Oh, you feel so good.”
“I missed you as well”, you croak, bottoming out. You grab his face, “Jimin. Beloved”, you whimper, pulling him into a kiss.
“Beloved”, he sobs, keeping you close as his trembling lips kiss you back desperately.
Your hips dance on his lap, chasing the feeling of him. There is no other person who fits as well as Jimin does. He makes you feel whole, as if a missing piece finally returned. Being with him not only heals your body from the aches of desire but also heals your heart from loneliness.
“You feel so good”, you keen, panting desperately as your lips chase him. It is difficult to kiss, but you just can’t get yourself to stop. You need to make up for months of lost connection.
“Yes, yes, you do”, Jimin moans, holding you close. He is helping you with the movements, finding his only support by grasping your hips.
It doesn’t matter if you and he love each other slowly or if you fuck like animals, it always heals your hearts. Because what you and he are doing isn’t just simple fucking, it is yet another way to confess each other’s love. And today it leaves you especially breathless.
You were so lonely without each other, your hearts were so broken. Every second spent reconnecting with each other mends the deep cracks in your hearts.
“Oh, my Queen”, Jimin whimpers and drops his head into the crook of your neck. He hugs you against his chest, forcing your desperate hips to slow down. Like this, he is deep inside you while your movements are reduced to movements back and forth.
“Jimin”, you whimper, dropping your own head as your arms close around him. He rubs against the most sensitive spots this way, reminding you how wonderful it felt to be with him.
“I love you”, Jimin presses out, twisting your dress at your back to pull you closer.
“I love you too”, you answer him, spilling tears while your warmth convulses around his length.
“I love you so much”, Jimin sobs, squeezing you tightly.
“I love you too”, you moan, twisting his hair, “I want to be so much closer.”
“Me too. Oh me too, it isn’t enough”, Jimin croaks and grabs your behind just to press you against him. Your clit rubs against his toned stomach, his cock bends just right to stimulate your favourite spots.
You tighten in reaction, struggling with your movements.
“Ah”, your voice pitches, “ah, Ji-Jimin.”
“You’re so warm and, and ah…tight”, he keens, “does it hurt?”
You shake your head vigorously, “no, but it, it brings me close. Please don’t stop.”
“If you let go, I have to as well.”
You shudder, grabbing for him. You want to hold him so much closer but you can’t. You feel charged in pleasure as if his touch enchants you.
“I love you, Jimin beloved. I love you, I love you”, you chant, finding it harder and harder to move whilst at the same time, speeding up more and more. You need to be with him. You need to experience sensations only he can make you feel. You need all of it. You need him and him and him.
“I love you too. I love you, so much”, he answers you each time a new confession of your deepest feelings roll off your tongue. He means it more and more with every repetition, finding it hard to function when you feel so good. His toes keep curling, he keeps gasping for air between his pitched moans.
“I have to let go”, you confess, muffling your desperate moans in his neck.
“Please don’t hold back, I need it”, he begs, squeezing your hips.
“Jimin”, you moan, letting go of the tension.
“___”, Jimin follows instantly, spilling tears as his arms cradle you tightly.
You and he had orgasms more intense in your time together. Orgasms which left you disoriented and out of breath and yet somehow the high you share today feels the most intense a high has ever felt. You and he stood at the edge of the cliff, you tasted how it would feel to live without each other. So to be finally reconnected and to share such a vulnerable state with each other feels like medicine to you and him.
You are finally together again. The painful loneliness is no more.
You stay seated on Jimin after your highs died down, sharing silence. You fill it with heavy breaths and small whimpers of recovery. Jimin does the same, holding you so tightly without once moving his hands from the spots he has grabbed. He needs to make sure that you stay with him, that he can truly live out the full potential of the hug.
“Do you feel alright?” he checks up on you
“I feel so good. You?”
“I feel so good”, he says and exhales shakily, “I don’t want you to leave again”, he whispers.
“I do not wish to leave”, you answer him, squeezing him gently, “I will tell Thranduin that I do not wish to marry him. I never did.”
“I’m so happy to hear that. My heart ached unbearably these past months”, Jimin says and squeezes you back, “my beloved ___, don’t ever push me away again.”
You shake your head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for causing you so much grief. I wanted to keep you safe and yet hurt you in the process. It hurt me as well, my Jimin, you mustn’t think that it didn’t.”
“Don’t apologise, I understand.”
You take a deep breath of relief, scratching your nails over his scalp softly.
“It will be difficult. We are still a small country without a strong ally on our side.”
“No matter what will happen, I will stay by your side”, Jimin promises.
A warm smile curls your lips. You lift your head, meeting his eyes. They soften instantly. His left hand comes up to cup your cheek. He caresses it with his thumb.
“You’re my best friend as well, my Jimin and you’re the man I love. I do not want to hide my feelings anymore”, you say, painting soul-consuming love onto his features.
“I love you too”, he whispers, cradling your cheek in his calloused hand, “and I always will.”
You lean into his touch, closing your eyes halfway.
“Now we must figure out how to get back to the game without causing suspicion”, you say, making Jimin laugh.
“Ah putting on your dress will be a bother”, he chuckles, making you laugh with him.
“As will be your armour. Do not pretend to wear easier clothing”, you tease him, basking in how much more he laughs because of it.
Now everything is truly right in the world again.
You invite Thranduin into the garden for a conversation come the next day. You were a little sad to see him go because he had the potential to become a great friend, but more than anything you were excited for what was to come. You will be with Jimin and that is the sweetest future you can imagine.
“I think that I might not be ready for new marriage yet. The loss of my late husband affects me deeper than I thought it does”, you tell Thranduin.
You expected Thranduin to meet your confession with shock and disbelief, but instead he is smiling.
“I understand”, he says, “but you mustn’t feel as if you needed to lie to me.”
“What are you saying?”
“I know when someone’s heart is already taken. I can advise you to follow it, even when he is merely your guard.”
“Oh. Heavens, I- how did you…”
Thranduin laughs.
“It is as simple as that I was on the way to the private chambers when I passed the broom cabinet as you…well, I am certain that you are aware of what you did.”
“Oh by the heavens, this is humiliating. I must apologise. Such behaviour isn’t like that of a Queen.”
“Fret not. From one ruler to another, I can keep a secret. However, I wish that your love can be public soon. He seems very fond of you and very protective as well. He would make a good husband for you, Your Highness.”
You fluster, “I thank you Sire, for keeping this secret and for understanding. I deeply regret if I gave you hopes of a future together.”
“There is nothing to apologise. I came here to meet the wonderful Queen of Windfell and I will leave having made a new friend. If that is what you desire as well, that is.”
You smile.
“I like the sound of that. I grew quite fond of you as a friend.”
“Then it is decided. From this day forward, Windfell and Dragonrock are united by friendship. We will aid each other in times of need, stand side by side in battle and trade with our countries’ finest goods. And we shall meet up for more Stickball. I must win at least once."
You laugh, "I am quite certain that you will, Sire. And I cannot wait to meet you again. You are always a welcome guest at Windfell.'
“As are you on Dragonrock. I must show you around the capital then and the white sand dunes.”
“Yes, I would enjoy this a great deal. I will try coconuts as well.”
Thranduin laughs, nodding his head, “you must bring your knight with you then.”
Your cheek feel hot, your heart flutters.
“Heavens”, you murmur, fanning air to your face.
Thranduin chuckles fondly.
“So it is decided then. Our nations are united by friendship. Shall we shake hands on it or will your knight slap my hand away again?”
You laugh, “I am sure that he can excuse a friendly handshake.”
You enter the throne room. It is busy with the court. They bow as you pass them.
“Frigga!”
Conversation dies down now that you are talking.
“Yes, my Queen?”
“Send word to every possible suitor that I have decided to stop looking for one.”
“My Queen, I don’t understand.”
“It is easy, dear Frigga. I have found my husband.”
Jimin stiffens up in his chair, feeling his heart sink. You promised him that you would send Thranduin away and yet you come back bearing news of marriage. His heart is shattered and he feels like death would be easier to bear.
“Oh truly that is wonderful-”, Frigga stops in her celebrations when outside your window, Thranduin leaves Windfell on his dragon, “-but why is he leaving?”
“Oh no, you misunderstand. Windfell gained a loyal and strong friend in Dragonrock. I will visit his country soon and we shall seal our friendship bond with a contract. But he is not who I want to marry”, you say, walking up the stairs to your throne.
“My Queen, I don’t understand. Who caught your eye then?”
You smile.
“Jimin.”
The court gasps, staring at the baffled guard. Jimin stares at you with disbelief on his features.
“If you feel the same as me and it is what you want as well, come up here and allow me to make you my husband.”
“What are you saying?” Jimin gets out. He is already crying.
“You heard me”, you say and laugh in unbearable happiness, “come up here and be my husband.”
Jimin squeaks and jumps into a sprint. He takes two steps at a time. You laugh with him, welcoming him with open arms. You squeak when seconds later, he sweeps you off your feet to twirl you and him as squeals of contagious happiness leave him.
“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?” he asks, beaming up at you.
“As certain as breathing is, my beloved Jimin.”
“Oh my beloved ___”, he gets out and kisses you.
And to your happy surprise, the court celebrates with cheers and laughter. It may be terribly confused, but your happiness was truly contagious. Frigga exchanges a knowing and happy look with your maids. It was about time you and your knight showed the world your feelings. She had hoped that you would.
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Knot Enough
Werewolf! Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB! Reader
Giyuu is hit by an unanticipated rut.
Tags: smut, in heat/rut, pheromones acting as aphrodisiac, knotting [& creampie (obviously)], possessiveness
Word count: 2,4k
Masterlist
It was the start of an extended weekend - holiday on Thursday and you took Friday off - and you were happy to finally catch up on your anime binging. All was peaceful, you were in just your panties and an oversized shirt for comfort; you got through two episodes so far, you were stocked up on snacks and drinks, content to spend three days alone before your date with your new boyfriend, Giyuu.
You had met Giyuu through a friend of a friend and you hit it off very quickly. You just sort of… clicked together, like missing puzzle pieces, or soulmates or whatever. It was three months in, and you couldn’t be happier. You hadn’t yet passed the kissing stage, but Giyuu seemed a little shy, which was perfectly fine. It wasn’t as if either of you were uncontrollable horny teens.
You were in the middle of watching a mage and his apprentice acquire a grim familiar during a tension filled-scene when your doorbell rang.
“Fuck-!” you were so into it, the noise nearly made you jump out of your skin. Pausing the episode and putting your snacks on the coffee table, you padded over to the front door. The peeking hole showed you your boyfriend with a troubled expression. Worried, you quickly opened it. “Giyuu?”
The sound of your voice snapped him from a trance and his fever-bright eyes met yours. A smile spread on his face and slight blush decorated his cheeks when he walked forward without asking to come in. Unusual.
“Is everything okay?” The door closed.
Your boyfriend didn’t respond, kicking off his shoes - another odd thing, he was a very neat person - and tugging you into a tight hug, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. A shudder seemed to go through him the moment he took you in.
He spoke at last. “I know we’ve only just started dating,” he started in a low rasp. The sound of his voice so close to your ear sent goosebumps crawling across your whole body. “But my rut just arrived and I-” he cut himself off with a sharp exhale, his nose touching the side of your neck when he took a deep breath again.
You were beyond confused. “...rut? What do you mean?”
Giyuu’s arms wound even tighter around your form. It was a bad time to start explaining but he needed to, he needed you to understand and to act - to help him. “I’m not human.”
You could only gasp. “What are you-?”
“I’m a wolf at times… and this wolf affects me even in human form. I need to-” he shuddered again, his lips gliding down your neck to where your shoulder met it. He licked the spot, trying to stem his hunger for you. “Please let me- let me fuck you,” he said in a breathy voice.
His desperation sent a flare of desire throughout your entire body. Your mind reeled with his admission. This whole scenario reminded you of the monster porn you read once or twice, but what did it mean for you?
“Please,” he begged hoarsely, one of his hands pushing on the small of your back to press your belly against the bulge in his pants.
Giyuu had never begged you before, he'd never expressed himself so boldly before. Just because of that, you were leaning towards giving in.
It didn't help that he smelled so good.
"Okay."
No sooner had that word left your lips, his own slotted against yours in a deep and desperate kiss that stole your breath away.
He backed you up against the wall, his hands holding your hips to grind against you and yours in his hair, the leather cord he used to tie it coming loose quickly as you lightly tugged on it. He released a sinful moan into the kiss, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.
Giyuu guided you both to the bedroom - you later wondered how he knew which room it was - tugging at your oversized shirt, clearly wanting it off, an impossible feat without pulling back from the kiss.
Just when you thought he would give in and tear it in off, he actually did let you discard it peacefully.
Your panties did not receive the same tender care.
With a growl of "I'll buy you some later," he laid you onto the bed tucking himself between your legs. One of his arms supported his weight by your head, the fingers of the other impatiently delving into your pussy to prepare you as soon as possible. One, two, three digits stretched you out in a quick manner while all you could do was sigh and moan softly, your eyes locked onto each other as you quivered under his form, mind hazy.
Giyuu had wanted to take his time on your first night… before his rut hit him. Now, he just wanted to eat you alive.
“I want you,” Giyuu whispered breathlessly. “I need you.”
You nodded shakily, still trying to find your bearings from the stretch of your pussy on his fingers. He pulled them away, making you gasp at the emptiness, your muscles clenching around nothing as you heard his belt buckle open.
The sound of it had never been so enticing before.
You blinked slowly and looked at him.
You weren’t a virgin, but you had never seen a cock like his - thick and long and so, so pretty, with a strange swelling around the middle. But a brief glance was all you could get before he was onto you, kissing you deeply, sloppily. He was in a daze, his eyes half-lidded.
“Lovie, gods, I need you-”
Giyuu lined himself up against your entrance and slid in slowly, the stretch of his tip entering you feeling so much more than his three fingers, even if it didn’t seem like it. “F-fuck, slow- slow downngh-”
He immediately stopped and pulled away from your face, eyes glistening with unshed tears, guilt and anguish clear in his expression. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking so wounded as if he were the one being speared open with a cock.
You breathed through the burn, your hands cupping his cheeks gently. “Just go slower okay? I’m not- it’s just been a while,” you reassured him.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” he leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours. “Please forgive me, lovie.”
Your thumbs caressed his face softly as you murmured, “You’re fine, Giyuu. You just need to go slow, okay? Can you do that for me?”
He closed his eyes, and hummed in agreement, sliding more of himself in slowly, as you’d told him to. He kissed you in an unhurried passion, enjoying you - your taste, your heat, your body against his.
The burn wasn’t as bad this time, though as you threaded your fingers in his hair, you had to grip it tight when the swelled middle started to slide in. You broke away from him to breathe, clenching your eyes shut as Giyuu murmured apology after apology, peppering many soothing kisses all over your face and then-
Giyuu slipped in in his entirety, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. He’d swear later it was an accident, that he’d mean to just force his knot in faster so you wouldn't hurt so much, but he miscalculated how slippery you were. And Gods, your cunt was so snug around his cock, he could hardly breathe.
You could hardly breathe. So full. So hot. A fever spreading from your belly out to your fingertips - but not unpleasant. It felt good. The pain and burn faded instantly when you buried your face in Giyuu’s neck, breathing in the musky smell of his sweat. It made your mouth water and you couldn’t resist placing an open mouthed kiss on his pulse point, your tongue slipping out to taste him.
His breath hitched, his hips bucked, and you threw your head back with a low moan when he hit the sweet spot inside of you with his cock.
“Fuck- sorry, lovie,” he apologized in a strained voice, trying to stay still. “Are you o-okay?”
You only nodded shakily. “Please, mo-move.” You forced your hands to stop gripping his hair so much, keeping only one hand there while another cupped his cheek.
Your eyes locked with his as he started to rock into you gently.
Giyuu’s face was flushed, sweat beading at his temples, lips parted to pant, eyes glazed over with an unnatural brightness. You probably looked no better, a mess underneath your lover.
He kept panting and moaning softly, and this was the most expressive you'd ever seen or heard your boyfriend be. The vulnerability he showed you made you feel as if you would crack open - your heart so full it could not be contained-
“I love you.”
The words slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself. His eyes seemed to glow with happiness, and he sped up his thrusts. Your hands fell from him to grip onto his forearms.
“I love you, I love you-Iloveyou-” Each time he bottomed out, you repeated your feelings, and each time, he went faster until nothing other than moans and whines could escape you.
Why did this feel more intense than anything you’d ever felt before? Why did it feel like you’d spiral any second? Why did it feel like you couldn’t get enough, that you wanted more of him, have him deeper, make him carve you out from the inside until no one else could fit but him?
It was a heady mix of greed and lust and gluttony for Giyuu, the not-human, the wolf.
“Pl-ease-! Ah!”
You could hardly believe the sounds leaving your throat, high pitched whines and animalistic keening, which only seemed to spur Giyuu on to be rougher with you. He kept eye contact with you still, his hands gripping the fabric of your pillow above your shoulders tightly, his wrists leaning against you to keep you from sliding away from his thrusts.
“Ghi-yuu-ngh-”
His lips slipped open even more, in awe of how beautifully he disintegrated your composure; dew beaded at your lash line, your eyebrows furrowed, eyes half-lidded as you babbled his name, begged and told him how you loved him.
And oh how he loved you too.
He was going to keep you as his forever. Your cunt was too good for him, you were too good for him. Your scent called to him. He needed you.
More, more, more.
Not enough.
Giyuu fucked you like the beast he was, chasing his pleasure and getting drunk off of yours. This was the first heat he’d been even tempted to sink into the core of his partner and Gods, it felt so good. He’d never be able to not fuck you during his heat.
Thankfully, his heats happened only once or twice a year…
He pulled back slightly, slowing the fucking temporarily so he could put both of your legs over his shoulders before he picked up his earlier pace again. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his sharp nails - claws - digging into your skin. You could no longer keep your eyes locked into his, turning your head away and clenching your eyes shut, tears of pleasure falling, when he slightly changed the angle and rubbed along your sweet spot repeatedly. You let out a hoarse whimper.
“Lo-lovie, if you get- fuck- if you get any tighter - hah - I won’t be able to pull out-” he choked out, yet he did not let up. Deep down, he knew he would not be able to hold himself back. He needed to give you all he had, he needed to fill you with his love.
You clawed at the mattress, trying to find purchase, not knowing if you wanted to escape from the ecstasy or if you wanted more. Something threatened to snap in your gut, Giyuu didn’t seem to care as he pounded into you. “Plea-se-!”
Your voice was music to his ears; if he could, he would hone his wolf ears onto you for eternity. “What is it, l-lovie?”
“I- I c-can’t- plea-se- please!” you begged, not knowing what for - but you wanted it, you wanted something.
Your wolf knew though. “I’ve got y-you… you can l-let go, lovie-” One of his hands left your hips to push on your belly, making you infinitely tighter. A mistake, or perfection?
The bubble burst in the next slam of his hips against your ass. You keened, arching your back, more tears escaping your eyes. You were afloat, mind unable to handle any other stimuli than what erupted from your core; your ears rang, stars burst behind your eyelids, your mouth hung open.
A strange vibration reverberated through your body, then sharp heat inside of you, and a slight burn from being stretched. Your brain registered that that couldn’t be right, but you could not focus on anything at all.
Giyuu was in heaven, his knot locked inside of you, his seed filling you up, and you lost in pleasure. There was no better place to be than right where he was - inside you, around you, with you. You, you, you, only you. Your scent enveloped him in a heady atmosphere and his teeth ached with need to sink into your neck, your shoulder. He wanted to truly make you his own.
But he wouldn’t. He couldn't, not without your explicit consent.
He already felt like he'd preyed on you as is, not pulling out, using you like this… he needed to make it up to you somehow.
He needed to show you he could be your forever partner, he needed to show you he could be your future.
He lowered your legs from his shoulders to cradle his waist instead, half-laying on you, soaking up your presence in the post-orgasmic bliss. It distantly occurred to him that his rut had not yet passed, the feverish heat still burning in his gut. He didn't even know how long he'd need to wait for his knot to deflate… before he needed to fuck you again, and again, and again.
"Are you okay?" Giyuu asked at last when the both of you caught your breaths.
You hummed in affirmation, sore all over, throat hoarse as if you'd been at a concert all night. Your arms loosely embraced him as you cooled down a little. "So… not human, huh?"
He flinched. "I have some explaining to do."
dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear
#I NEED Giyuu to knot me okay#I NEED him period#giyuu my beloved#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#tomioka giyuu#giyuu x reader#smut#giyuu x y/n#giyuu x you#tomioka giyuu x reader#kny#kny x reader#demon slayer 2023 monster october#demon slayer x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#sub!reader#sub reader#kakushino
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win you over | bucky barnes
bucky x fem!reader
warnings: adult content minors dni (mxf intercourse, dirty talk, bathroom sex??) swearing, mentions of death, guns, slight mention of ptsd
a/n: special shout-out to @everybirdfellsilent // @kyberblade bc as always u hype me up and now i’m posting this. HOPE U ALL LIKE IT!!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Bucky? You nearly ready?” He hears your voice outside his door, and nearly trips over with how fast he moves to let you in. When he swings it open, your eyes take their time, travelling his suited figure up and down. “Damn. You clean up nice.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He manages, seeing the thin material shaping every curve of your body. “Good thing I can throw a punch. Might be beating off more than Hydra agents with you in that dress.”
You roll your eyes and waltz into the room, but Bucky doesn’t miss the slight smile that creeps on your face as you walk past. It’s always been like this between you and him, constantly walking the line between flirting and taking the piss out of each other. It’s one of the only things in his life he can count on these days. You’d always be there.
“Wanna match?” You pull out a bright red tie and hold it up to his chest, the same colour as the dress you were wearing. He nods, unable to tear his eyes away from the way your body looks under the fabric. Seriously— it was hardly classified as a dress. All it would take him was a well placed tug and the thing would tear right off.
Shit. He really shouldn’t have thought about that. He shouldn’t think of the way he would pull it off you, either. How maybe he’d rip it off in one go, or maybe he’d take his time, unwrap you like a gift, inch by inch revealing the prize he feels like he’s worked his whole life for.
“Buck. Focus. Steve’s out the front waiting.” Your arms come up and wrap around his neck, beginning to tie his tie.
“Where’d you get this?” His hands fall on your hips, steadying himself, and he swears you arch into the touch. He keeps his hands where they are; as much as you two flirt, neither of you had gone further than a few compliments and longing glances.
“Just something I threw on.” He scoffs, the material under his real hand feeling expensive. Like silk. “Natasha’s old wardrobe. Steve didn’t really give me much time to shop. What about you? You just pull this from the ‘suits that make me look like a God’ rack?”
“Just something I threw on.” He tucks his head down, watching as your swift fingers finish off the knot and pull it up, fingertips brushing the skin of his neck.
“You know, I was sort of wishing we could just go in and shoot the place up instead of dressing all fancy and going through the inside, but then I wouldn’t of gotten this view.” You take a step back, not far enough that he has to drop his hold on your hips, but just so your eyes could roam up and down again.
“Not sure you could hide a gun in that dress.” Instead of answering, your hand covers his real one, sliding down over your hip, stopping just at the top of your thigh. He feels nothing but the curve of your waist, silky material and skin almost having him closing his eyes at the pure pleasure of it. Then his index finger bumps the strap of the garter wrapped around your thigh, holding a small revolver.
He sees you smirk as you bring his hand back up to your hip, and it’s then he realises what your really trying to show him. His grip gets tighter because there’s something very apparent he should be able to feel. He should, but he can’t, and the very idea that he can’t makes everything inside him jolt forward.
Were you— no, you weren’t wearing any underwear.
“Some things go with the outfit. Some don’t.” You see the realisation in his face, how his eyes go wide and he tries to cover his choke with a cough. Smiling, you spin around, looking at him through the mirror. “We look good together. What was it Steve said we were playing? Husband and wife? I think we pull it off pretty convincingly.”
“You look gorgeous.” Bucky whispers in your ear, unable to focus on the usual back and fourth you were so used to with him. Your back was pressing against his chest, hands stilled around your waist and you were right. He thinks you look damn good together. At this angle, his metal arm is covered by your figure, and he thinks he almost looks normal— a couple in love. Especially with the way you're staring at each other.
“You’re gonna make me blush, Barnes. Save it for the real thing.” He blows out a laugh, feeling you shiver as he exhaled onto your exposed neck. He’s so close, he can smell your perfume. Always the same one, smelling just this side of sweet and it practically makes his mouth water. God— he wants to see you blush. Wants to make you lose that bravado and composure and have you fall apart. He knows all this joking around is a front, he just can’t figure out what it’s hiding.
“Are you guys nearly ready?” Steve bangs on the door obnoxiously loud, knowing the way the two of you are. You’ve never been physical, not even so much as a kiss, a fact Bucky is painfully reminded of right now as you look up at him and tilt your head.
He thinks for a second he should go for it. This back and forth thing is driving him almost insane, and the only reason he hasn’t acted on it yet is because he doesn’t want to lose this— whatever it was. You were always around, always seeking him out and talking to him, he couldn’t go back to how it was before. Hanging around these Avengers, he knew he wasn’t built for this like Steve, or even Tony. You were like him in that aspect, never trained to do good, only to hurt. It’s what connected the two of you, and as soon as you arrived at the tower, you’d been inseparable. He can’t lose that, even if you made his brain go to shit and his cock—
“Guys!” Steve bangs harder on the door, frustrated. Bucky was going to kill the little punk, because before he can make a decision, your pulling him to the door and its swinging open, and his opportunity flies out with the handle.
“Mr and Mrs. Barnes. Reporting for duty.” You fake salute and walk past Steve. Fuck— that shouldn’t do something for him. You’ve never even kissed; he shouldn’t feel possessive over you like that, but hearing you call yourself his... well, maybe theres something to be said about his old school ways, because he was about ready to drop down on one knee as soon as he saw you in that dress.
“You alright there, pal?” Steve teases, shoving him on the shoulder.
“Shut up. You just have the best timing, don’t you?” He shoves his best friend right back, and Steve swings an arm around his shoulder, forcing him to remember he actually has to move.
“Don’t act like you were actually going to make a move there. It’s been months. Poor girl probably thinks you’re not interested.” Bucky grumbles and shoves Steve off, ignoring the muffled laugh he hears behind him.
There wasn’t a way in hell you didn’t know he was interested. Bar the fact you gave him a fucking semi just standing in front of him, he’s made it known just how much he wants you over and over again, but you’ve never said you wanted anything but to blow off some steam by teasing each other. One thing he doesn’t miss about the 40′s was how simple this shit used to be. You like a girl, you take her out, and before you know it your settled down with two kids.
Now he’s out of his league, out of game, really. All he’s sure of is he wants you, bad. Tonight, there wouldn’t be any room for confusion, because you’d have no choice but to stay close to him all night, and he’d have the chance to tell you exactly all the ways he would take that fucking dress off.
The car engine revs and he sees a sliver of your leg poke out as you climb in the back seat, and, as if it was a call to arms, Bucky half sprints to follow you in. Tonight he was going to prove Steve wrong, prove himself wrong. He could only hope to God you gave him the chance.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Alright, once you guys are ready, find the busiest points of the area. Put a cam at the bar, the bartender will know who you are and take it from you. Order a dirty martini, and he’ll give you a glass to put it in.”
“Have you ever had a dirty martini, Steve?” Natasha’s voice echos in your ear, and you have to bow your head to hide the grin. “Maybe you should come in here and order one for yourself. Lots of pretty girls at the bar.”
“Focus on the job, then find me a date, Natasha.” The way he says her name is full of their usual teasing, and you catch her eyes from across the room as she makes her way to the bar, smiling to you.
“I’m multi-tasking.” She offers, and Bucky’s arm tightens around your waist as a man walks past in front of you. You look up accusingly, smirking as he shrugs.
“Protecting my wife. Saving it for the real thing, remember?” He ducks his head so he can whisper it in your ear, eyes up scanning the crowd in front of you. He doesn’t even need to try and he makes you shiver. You wonder if he has any idea the effect he has on you, or if he knows full well and just enjoys seeing you squirm. “We should head over. Drop this at the bottom of the stairs.”
The small mic in his pocket will hopefully be able to pick up any passing conversations about Hydras next hit, giving you and the rest of the Avengers time to prepare and hopefully cut them off before they can do any real damage. Their numbers were dwindling fast thanks to you, but ever since finding out Bucky’s story, you were always sure to stick close to him during these events. The fact that him keeping his hands on you was one of your favorite things in the world was just a bonus.
“Make sure you blend in. If anyone looks too long, you might get recognised. Keep a low profile and don’t draw attention to yourselves.” You can almost see the way Steve would look at you in particular when he says that.
“What are you trying to say, Steven?” You gasp as best you can while being discreet, and the action earns you a laugh from Bucky, his face turned into your neck. The comms cut out again as Steve refuses to answer you, and Bucky takes your hand, leading you into the middle of the dance floor.
“Come on, doll. Let’s dance.” He says it a little louder than he needs to, but the way he grins and spins you around has your entire body heating up. He always manages to do it without seeming to try, and playing house with him tonight only gives him every reason to flirt with you.
Not that you would ever want him to stop. Having Bucky’s attention was about the best thing that has ever happened to you, even if you were pretty sure he only saw it as a way to lighten the mood.
You didn’t, though.
The longer you spent with him, the more you longed for something else, something more with him. You had made every possible hint as obvious as you could that you wanted him to make a move, even going so far as to tell Steve about your little crush, hoping he would slide a hint Bucky’s way. That was about a week ago, and all pouring your heart out had gotten you was a new mission, where Bucky was about to show you an entire night of feelings you would probably never get to feel.
Even with that insatiable longing in your heart, you couldn’t help but smile when he spun you around again, then pulled you against him, his hand landing on the small of your back. With his face inches from yours, his smile fades a little, and you wrap your arms around his neck, urging him to be closer still.
“I meant it before.” He whispers under the music, moving you slowly to the beat of the song.
“Meant what?”
“That you look gorgeous.” His forehead is pressing into yours now, and your eyes have to close, because looking at him makes all of your bravado melt away.
“Thank you, Buck.” He turns, your dress kicking up as you move. He moves swiftly, feet guiding you backwards across the dance floor, leading you in a dance you’ve never even done before, but somehow he manages to make you look good. “You’re surprisingly good at this.”
“Advantages to being a hundred years old. I picked up a few tricks.” He turns again, letting your bodies fall apart just slightly, before pulling them back together again, your chest pressing tight to his.
“Oh, so this is how you used to get the girls?”
“One of the ways.” Your eyes open to find him smirking down at you, and a hand slides down from his neck to lightly slap him on the chest.
“Mr. Barnes! I thought old guys were supposed to be gentlemen.” Spinning again, you almost whine when his hand slides off the small of your back, but he drops the mic on the table near the bottom of the winding staircase, the cool touch of his metal hand replaces the contact and you can’t help but arch into him.
“What’s more gentlemanly than making sure your lady is satisfied?” His voice is lower now, and instead of keeping your faces in front of each other he chooses to whisper in your ear.
“I’m guessing you’re not talking about taking her to eat after a night of dancing?”
“Of course I am. Why? What did you think?” He pulls back to look at you, eyebrows raised. You laugh and he walks you backwards again, back through to the center of the dance floor. “Now what do we do?”
“Both of you, move to the bathroom. Target just walked in with a woman in a blue dress.” Steve's voice cracks through both your ears, and you tilt your head.
“You want both of us to follow another couple into the bathroom?” Bucky smiles down at your amused expression as you reply to Steve’s order for him.
“Move. Now.” He’s clearly not finding it as funny as you and Bucky are, and even though you are both walking to follow his instructions, neither of you miss the opportunity to mess with him.
“I think you should focus on landing one girl, Steve. Leave the group activities to the pro-” The line drops out again before Bucky can finish the sentence, and both of you laugh, reaching the entrance to the bathroom. “How do you want to play this?”
“Well, we are husband and wife, right?” He nods, and you feel his metal hand wrap a little tighter around your waist. “I think we can figure something out.” When the words leave your mouth, you are almost surprised with how confident you are able to get them out. His eyes sharpen on you, lips parting slightly as he realizes what you mean.
“You are going to be the death of me.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, face buried as he opens the door to the bathroom. Fast, so to not be spotted, he drags you into the next available stall, right next to the only other occupied one. It’s fairly obvious theres two people in there, the clacking of your heels only just audible over their conversation.
You know your ear piece is feeding straight back to Steve outside, so instead of focusing on the two Hydra agents discussing their plans between heated make out sessions, you focus on how Bucky has you pressed up against the bathroom stall. Theres not that much room, but he’s using none of it, hands on your waist pressing your hips into the wall while his own press into you. He’s taller than you, so he looms over head, hair brushing your forehead as he looks down your body. Your eyes are half lidded as they manage to catch his, and both of you are breathing heavily.
Its all happening in slow motion. The mission is forgotten, at least to you, because Bucky’s hands both start to drift higher and higher up your sides, languidly taking their time memorising your form and how it feels under him. The thin fabric of the dress hides nothing from him, and you think thats why he seems so wrapt with whatever it feels like, but everything he does has you biting your lip to stop a moan. You don’t want to blow your cover, but more than that you don’t want him to stop.
Months of flirting, of mixed meanings and stares, everything is too much. You just want him to do something, anything to stop the way every muscle is locked up while he just stares at you. His hands start to go back down to your hips, and you can’t take it anymore. A small sound comes from your mouth, and when it does, the conversation next to you stops.
“Shh!” One of them whispers to the other, and Bucky’s eyes go wide. Not with fear, but surprise at the fact you were the one to lose your cool first, not him. The door of the stall next to you creeps open, and before you can lean over, you see the lock on the stall you were in has not clicked over all the way.
The footsteps stop out the front of your stall, and Bucky was still staring at you. If they opened the door and looked at you, Bucky’s cover would be blown. From the small parts of their conversation you absorbed, they were high ranking, and you only had a small hand gun wrapped to your thigh, but the way Bucky was against you made it impossible to reach in such a small amount of time.
You really hoped he wouldn’t hate you for this.
“Bucky.” You say his name and he leans forward, just an inch. As the Hydra agents kick open the door to your stall, you grab his face in your hands and kiss him.
You know the door is open, and the agents are standing there, staring at you both make out. Your hands were covering his face as best you could, and his metal arm was obscured by your body, but all you could think about was the searing heat pouring into you as you drank in the taste of him. He was kissing you so hard that the back of your head was digging into the wall, but you were still pulling him closer, closer, closer...
“Oh, sorry. We didn’t know this was occupied.” The female Hydra agent drawls in an accent you can hardly place, and just as quick as it started it’s over. Bucky turns his head away from the agents, choosing to bury it into your neck and leave soft kisses on your collarbone as you attempt to keep your cover.
“It’s fine. Newly weds. You know how it is.” One hand tangles in Bucky’s hair as the other flashes the fake ring you put on, and the female nods, smiling a little before she turns and pulls the man out of the room. His gaze lingers a little longer, but with a final tug and a word in another language, he turns, heading toward the exit.
Bucky’s teeth graze along your skin, and your world rotates back to focus entirely on him. Hot breath kissing your skin as his mouth finds a sensitive spot, just between your neck and collarbone. You gasp and he pulls back slightly, only for you to push him back with the hand in his hair. He must be keeping up the ruse - you haven’t heard the bathroom door open yet. You feel the low sound he makes at the encouragement, and he buries himself further into your neck.
It’s just a part of the plan.
You try to focus, hearing the footsteps of the two Hydra agents milling around outside the stall. Buckys hands pull your hips into him, and one hand slips down your leg, grabbing at the skin just below your ass. It encourages your leg to lift slightly, and at the new position you wrap your leg around him. When he rolls his hips into you, you can’t stop the moan that rings out through the bathroom, and finally the door opens and shuts behind the targets, leaving you both alone.
The sound of the door slamming shut makes Bucky freeze between your legs. He’s still holding you tight, metal hand taking the weight off the leg around him, the other tucked between your back and the wall, curling around you. Your own were lost in his hair and around his neck, keeping him so close neither of you had space to breathe.
“That’s all we need. Everyone get to the back exit. I’m coming in - Natasha, I’m down the bottom of the stairs. Meet me there.” Steve’s voice rings in your ear, but you could only hear Bucky’s laboured breathing, and feel the way he was pulling you towards him in the tiny stall.
“A bit eager?” Natasha teases, and Bucky’s hand comes out from behind you, drifting slowly up your side. Warm fingers trail over the thin silk of your dress, your body leaning into it, subconsciously desperate for what you’ve never had, but now know you need. It was like an ache, a pain that only he could remedy, and you didn’t know how bad it was until he gave you a taste.
His hand comes up to the side of your face, thumb running along the high point of your cheekbone, and then hooking around your ear, removing the small comm. He drops it into the toilet bowl, before ripping his own out with none of the gentleness he showed you.
“Bucky.” You say, your lungs burning.
“Tell me to stop and we can leave.” Your mind is screaming no before you have a chance to speak, but you are already shaking your head in answer. “You have to say it. Need to hear you say you want me.”
“I want you. Need me to spell it out for you?” You lean forward to whisper it in his ear, and he rewards you with a roll of his hips, even with your attitude. He presses you back into the wall so you can feel nothing but him. He dips his head, brushing his nose under your jaw to encourage your head up, and you easily follow his instruction, giving him all the access in the world.
“You wanted this all along, didn’t you?” He’s almost mean about it, biting along the sensitive skin under your jaw, trailing it with his tongue. “Teasing me all night with this fucking dress.”
“Thought you—“ You suck in a gasp when he sucks harshly at your neck, only to smooth it over with soft kisses, trailing back up to your mouth. Your eyes are closed, unable to focus with the way he’s got you under his thumb. “Thought you liked my dress.”
“Doesn’t matter what you wear. You’re still a fucking tease. Making me trail around like a lost dog after you.” His thumb plays with your bottom lip, and you manage to look up at him through your lashes, earning a low sigh from him at the sight. He pushes slightly, opening your mouth, and you eagerly take it into your mouth. If he wanted a tease, you would give it to him. “Am I right? You just playing with me right now, doll?”
“Mm-mm.” You shake your head, mouth still full of him. He tastes salty and sweet at the same time. All too soon, he drags his thumb slowly out of your mouth, ruining your lipstick with the way he drags it down over your lip, stopping at your chin.
“No?”
“Always wanted you, Buck. Everyone knows but you.” The clouded lust in his eyes cracks just a little, and you see a genuine surprise flash on his face. “You really didn’t know? I made it pretty obvious.”
“You flirt with everyone.” He says, still keeping his hand on your chin, pulling you closer.
“Not like I do with you. I’ve tried everything but stripping down and begging you.” His eyes close after you finish your sentence, and for a second you think you’ve been too forward.
Maybe he’s just playing a game. It’s too much for him - the man has enough on his plate, the last thing he needs is to hitch himself to your mess. His eyes remained closed, and you held your place, sure that if you moved from this spot he would stop touching you, and you hadn’t gotten any of the things you dreamt about from him yet.
“I could work with that.” He uses his left hand to make sure the door was locked this time, and when his body returned to pressing you to the wall, his thumb slipped back in your mouth.
It could have been by accident, but you took it anyway, wanting to show him just how much you wouldn’t tease him. How ready you were to take him. For all the comments, all the play fights, when it came down to this moment, there wasn’t a damn second to waste.
“You are such a good girl when you get what you want.” You nod, leaning forward to take more of him into your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed, which is why a gasp of surprise leaves your mouth when he pulls his thumb away, only to be replaced by two of his fingers.
“That’s it.” He praises and you arch your back, feeling the cold digits of his metal arm trailing up your side. “When I first saw this dress, all I could think about was how I’d take it off you. I wanted to be fast, rip it off. It’s so thin, baby. Were you hoping that’s what I’d do? Rip it off in front of all those people? Show them just how bad you wanted me all this time?”
He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, trailing them lightly down your chin and between the valley of your breasts. The metal arm works swiftly to pull up the fabric, exposing your leg to more and more of the air. Without underpants, in a second you’d be completely exposed to him. You lose the sensation of his real hand as it drops to his side, but the loss is replaced when he kisses you deeply. Hard. Desperate.
His tongue searches for purchase in your mouth, tasting you in a way no one has before. Everything feels new and electric, hot and cold at the same time, swirling together in the pit of your stomach. You moan into his mouth and he swallows your sounds, the dress being pulled up mechanically, now bunched at your hips. He presses his forehead to yours as he pulls his mouth back.
“I bet you wanted me to fuck you here. Telling me you weren’t wearing any underwear before. Pretty little thing like you - any man could have seen.” You feel the wet digits of his hand slip along the top of your thigh, hovering just above your already wet pussy. “Bet you wanted someone to notice. You sure wanted me to notice.”
“Just you, Bucky. I promise —please.” You dragged his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged, eliciting an almost growl from him that had your toes curling in your shoes.
“Fuck. That’s it, doll. Just me from now on.” His hand finally reaches the right height, but he doesn’t touch you where you need him. Not yet. “We do this, there’s no going back. I can’t see you flirt with those fucking guys anymore. Just me.”
“So posses-“
“Say it or I stop. Just me.” He nips at your earlobe with his teeth and you melt right there on the bathroom floor. There wasn’t any question. It had always been just him to you. “Can't stand seeing you with anyone else.”
“Just you. Just. You.” You moan his name when his fingers press into you, drawing strong circles on your clit. He finds a pace just this side of punishing, and the final bit of fight you had with teasing him was as good as dead.
He moans with you, like the feeling of touching you is giving him just as much pleasure as you feel shooting up your spine. The knot in your stomach grows fast —too fast to keep up with, and before you know it your pulling on his hair and gasping for breath. You don’t so much as work yourself up to the edge of that blissful release more so you are shoved towards it, teetering with no option to let him push you closer and closer.
“There you go, doll. Shit, look just as pretty as I thought you would.” He kisses you again, teeth and tongue messily catching you between gasps and moans of his name.
“Fuck, Bucky more. Please.” The heat of his body so close compared with the cold ice of his left hand on your bare hip has you feeling all kinds of burn, and you think you’ll cum as soon as you feel yourself stretching over those fingers - the same ones you’ve dreamt of having inside you, having wrapped in your hair for what feels like years.
“Only if you keep asking so nice.” You string out an embarrassing amount of pleas and you think you hear him laugh at you but you don’t care. He gives you what you want, one finger sliding into you easily with how close you are, curling up while keeping that same pace.
“Oh, fuck—” You practically sob, and his metal arm hooks underneath you to hold you up. You could feel the release in the pit of your stomach, the knot untangling with every small circle of his fingers.
“You’re okay, baby. Let me see those eyes when you cum all over my hand. Want you to make a mess for me.” You choke on your inhale and your going to c—
The bathroom door opens, and just as you are about to scream out his name Bucky slams his lips into your own, muffling the sounds enough that whoever enters doesn’t notice. You were practically shaking with how close you were, and you were two seconds away from pulling out the revolver still strapped to your thigh and shooting whoever ruined it. Bucky’s hand slowed, unsure, and you thought for sure he would stop and wait, no matter how much you didn’t want him to. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself, though.
He doesn’t stop. In fact, he speeds up. Your eyes go wide as his metal hand covers your mouth, a smirk appearing on his face as he drags his thumb over your clit, a second finger sliding inside of your heat.
“You were just beggin’ me to keep going. You want it, don’t you?” Whimpering under his hand, you nod, because the only thing you care about more than being caught is Bucky touching you. “Such a good slut, hm? Letting me take care of you when theres people right outside?”
The harsh words whispered in your ear should make you want to slap him, but the way he says it with such sweetness almost makes it sound like a pet name, so you just nod and try your best to keep your head screwed on to your shoulders.
“That’s alright, doll. I’ll take you out on the dance floor and fuck you in front of all those boys that looked at you if you want.“ It was those words that pushed you over the edge; the way his mouth was kissing at your neck, teeth dragging down the thin straps of the dress so he can see the small part of skin not exposed to him. “Show them how good you are— what they can’t have. Cause you’re mine, aren’t you?”
You were positive whoever was outside could hear you, but there was nothing able to hold down the orgasm that almost exploded through your stomach, head falling forward and eyes crossing as the white hot pleasure ran like liquid over you. Bucky was murmuring in your ear, not giving a fuck if they could hear outside, telling you how pretty you looked with his hand up your dress.
At some point the people must hear you, or leave, because Bucky isn’t whispering anymore, now he’s talking loud, kissing you, and the sounds his hand is making between your legs brings you back to reality, hearing how wet you are.
“Christ, baby you are so fucking hot. You still with me?” Nodding, you grab him by the suit jacket and yank his mouth back on you. The sudden switch in your energy catches him by surprise, the adrenaline taking over as your feet find the ground and you start to take his jacket off. It falls onto the dirty floor, and then you start with the buttons. It’s a tight space, so you don’t have a lot of room, but with how desperate you are both grabbing at each other’s clothes, you could be anywhere and still have the drive to rip his clothes off.
“Fucking hell. Don’t worry about it —just, fuck. Turn around.” He gets frustrated trying to take off his tie, just undoing his belt and grabbing your hips. Your hands go to his chest, forcing him to take a second and watch as you undo his tie for him, just like you put it on hours ago.
“Wanna feel you everywhere.” You kiss him lightly, and turn around, letting him guide you into a position he can easily slide into you from behind. When he leans forward his bare chest presses against your back, your dress slung over the door. If anyone walked in now, they would know exactly who you were and what you were doing, but you have a feeling that’s exactly what Bucky had planned.
“So beautiful.” He leans down and kisses the back of your shoulder, and then he slides inside of you in one, long stroke. Both of you gasp in relief, like you’d been waiting far too long for this moment, which you had, and it was finally happening, which it was. “Oh —god.”
“Fuck— you’re so big, Bucky.” He hits the deepest part of you and your hands reach back, only to be slammed into the wall in front of you, Buckys fingers intertwining with your own.
“Y-You okay, doll?” He chokes out, struggling to keep still against how far he’s stretched you out over him. You nod and hum out in satisfaction, so he moves his hips slow, his metal hand keeping you in place while the other stays locked tight with yours. “Feel so fucking good, made for me.”
Something about the words must work for him, because the pace picks up and he’s driving into you from behind with an entirely new endeavour. The lewd sounds of your bodies colliding only spur you further into the practical dream he drives you towards, mind only able to drift into thoughts of him, him, him—
“Fuck. So tight. Should of fucked you sooner.” He curses behind you, and you can’t help the words that fall out of your mouth.
“You should of James! God. Made me wait so…fuck. So long. You fit me so good I-“ You were a babbling mess, coming apart with him inside you, leaving no room for your pride, the only solace being that he was right there with you.
“I’m sorry, baby. Promise I’ll take care of you all the time now. Make it up to you.” The hand on your hip holds you tighter as you both work towards your end goal together. He almost gets bigger inside of you as he gets harder and faster, you swear you can feel him in your stomach with the way he was snapping into you.
Your back arched, you screamed his name and he sung yours back, and within another minute you felt him finish inside you, stringing your own release out of you with practically just the way he sounded when he came.
He still drove his hips into you, slower but just as hard as he drew out your release as long as possible. You heard him almost whimpering behind you at the overstimulation, but he wanted to make it good for you, and the idea had you standing up straight on legs like jelly, to spin around so you could kiss him.
He sighed into your mouth, just as weak in the knees as you were, and kissing each other allowed you to both breath some semblance of life back into each other. Your eyes fluttered open, and you took in the sight of Bucky, completely unraveled.
His hair was a fucking mess, shirt half undone with his pants halfway down his legs. He was slumped over, chest heaving, but a lazy smile was plastered on his face, and you were sure you looked exactly the same as he did.
“Wow.” Bucky sighed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. At the ridiculousness of the situation. You lived together, yet the first time you fucked was in a ballroom bathroom on a mission, where everyone was waiting for you. You couldn’t count the amount of times you and Bucky had ample opportunity to capitalise on alone time, but you wouldn’t have changed a god damn thing about this.
“Yeah. Fucking wow.” Your eyes were wide, hand running through your hair.
“You still look gorgeous.” His eyes trail down your naked body, and you let him look as long as he likes.
“So do you.” He laughs, his head falling to the side as he straightens and starts to put himself together. As he slides his pants on, doing up the belt, you take the dress down, but his hand comes up to stop you.
“Let me.” He says, and takes the fabric from you. “Arms up.” Gently, he lets the silk fall over your fingertips, then down your arms, making sure his hands touch every part of you on the way down. When he reaches your shoulders, he plants a kiss just on your collarbone, and as the dress falls down your body, he follows it, going down with the red covering as if watching the curtain fall on his favourite show, trying to catch the last glimpse of the act.
“Steve’s going to be so pissed.” You say with a smile as you help him put his tie back on.
“Whatever. That little punks probably taking his time laying on the moves with Nat. He’ll never get anywhere, moving that slow.” He rolls his eyes, and you laugh. “What?”
“You’re one to talk?”
“I think I just made it pretty obvious, didn’t I? Or do I need to remind you again?” He grabs a handful of your ass and you press against him, knowing full well if Steve wasn’t going to beat both your asses for holding the team up, you would be up for a round two, three, and however many he would give you.
“Get me home, and you can remind me all night.” The door unlocks, and Bucky stays right behind you, interlocking his fingers with your own.
“Not just tonight, right?” His eyebrows furrow, and you have to stop him before you leave the bathroom, kissing him a final time.
“I meant what I said. I’ve been waiting for you, Bucky. Only you.” He makes a noise against your lips as he leans in again, and then steps in front of you, opening the door to the ballroom.
Threading through the crowd, a few eyes drift to your dress then back to your face, and you feel a heat rise to your cheeks at the possibility they might know what you have been doing, but Bucky squeezes your hand and you forget the embarrassment. It is replaced only by lust, and another emotion you aren’t ready to name yet, but have known for a long while.
The back exit comes into view, and once you round the corner, you see Natasha and Steve. Well, technically, you see Natasha boxing Steve against a wall, on her toes, pulling him down by the suit jacket and kissing him lightly.
Keeping your hands linked, he swings one arm around your shoulder, and clears his throat. Steve pulls back immediately, while Natasha lingers, clearly not as bothered about being caught as he is.
“Where did you guys…” Steve looks at the two of you, and a little proud smile crosses his face before he looks down, realising what he’s just been caught doing. “We just-“
“You took too long. Passing the time.” Natasha winks at you, her face full of promise of a long night of filling each other in, and all four of you walk out towards the car waiting out front. “So, did we get the intel?”
“Yeah. The two agents conversation lined up with what we already suspected. We can set up and anticipate the hit in three days, should be able to catch and cut them off before they even reach the hit point.” Steve relays, and if you were listening to the conversation instead of getting lost in Buckys gaze, you would probably say something.
You don’t. Instead, you slide into the car next to him, and swing your legs over his thigh. His hand rests over the garter holding the gun to your leg, the other swinging over your shoulder, holding you close.
There would be a thousand more missions to go on, a thousand more times of Steve droning on about tactics, but nothing would replace the way he was staring down at Nat like she held the world in her eyes, and nothing would compare to the way you caught that very same look in Bucky’s as he stared down at you. You blocked out his voice - anything else but Bucky, and fell asleep, feeling more at peace than ever, knowing you’d wake up right where you left off.
#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x yn#bucky x female reader#sebastian stan#bucky smut#winter soldier x reader#winter solider#the winter soldier#the winter solider x reader#the winter solider smut
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I like the way you make me feel (about you, baby).
gif creds @/cassandrahoward
pairing. roman roy x reader
wc. ~700
genre. fluff
just a morning before work with roman roy
tags. NO beta, english isn't my first language // established relationship, roman's low self-esteem makes a very subtle appearance, suggestive (one line), mentions of roman's slutty waist (literally)
a/n. i love him your honor, thats it. i was also gonna add that for some reason i seem to be keen of writing intimate scenes inside bathrooms but that come outs...weirder than it is lol ANYWAY i hope u enjoy !!
“I have a what?”
You could see the furrow of his brows through the mirror. It made you bite back a giggle, hiding the cheeky smile on your lips behind his shoulder.
“A slutty waist.” you mumbled against his work shirt, pulling him tighter against you. It was impossible not to interrupt his morning routine when he wore those shirts and those pants and when he looked way too good for your own good. Which, to be fair, was more often than not. Regardless, there was something about him in the mornings, when his tie laid over his shoulders unknotted and his hair fell over his forehead free of gel.
“Uh…thanks?” He looked baffled while making eye contact, and you only broke it when he shook his head, your eyes teetering upwards to see his profile. “Between the two of us, I always thought you were the slut but oh well-“
“That's not how it works!” You laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. He pulled your arms tighter around him gently, missing the pressure around his body when you stepped backwards.
It felt good for you too. Feeling the warmth of him after fighting your way out under the comforter made up for being woken up at 6 in the morning by his alarm.
“Well,” interrupting himself as his fingers fought the silk of his tie into a knot. “I don’t want to be the only one that's getting slut-shamed.”
“I didn’t call you a slut, I called your waist slutty.”
“Oh, so you’re slut-shaming my waist, same difference.” He scoffed, basking in the way you rolled your eyes as you turned his body to face you.
He wanted to complain as your arms snaked away from his waist but held back once he felt your fingers pick up both ends of his tie. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was some sort of weaponized incompetence or actual incompetence that didn’t allow him to tie it properly by himself. A mix of both, probably, but you always did it better than him.
Plus, if he had to access some weird part of his brain, then he’d have to admit he quite liked it when you let it get tighter than usual before loosening it up.
“You say that as if you’ve never slut-shamed me.” You joked, pretending not to notice how he shivered when your fingers grazed his neck as you flipped the collar.
“I don't slut-shame you, I slut-praise you.” Smirking as if trying to hide the effect you had on him, he quipped back. His attempt fell flat though. He swallowed down hard when you finished the loop of the tie with a gentle yet firm tug before smoothing it out.
“In that case, I’m praising your slutty waist too.” You let your hands trail down his chest until your grip rested on his hips. Gentle as always, your touch felt all too warm. The mushiness of being tired, you supposed. He thought so too as you pulled him closer, “And I’ll keep doing so because I think you’re,” and placed a gentle kiss against his and then hovering, intertwining each word with another. “beautiful and hot and gorgeous and breathtakingly stunning—“
“Oh fuck off, get out of here.” He broke into a bashful smile, cheeks tinted pink as you punctuated your affection with a kiss on his cheek.
“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” You sighed, pushing yourself off him to let him get ready, though not before lingering against the door frame. “I’m gonna make coffee, you want some?”
He chuckled, “You know we have people to do that, right?”
“I know,” you shrugged, “but I enjoy making some for you.”
You didn’t need verbal confirmation from him. Knowing the answer had grown into a pleasant habit, the same way picking the coffee he liked and using the same brand of low-fat milk had.
You closed the door with a lovesickness unlike any dripping from a smile of your own. And if he had to access an even darker, twisted and weirder part of his brain, as he had done before, he would struggle to admit that the way you cared made him feel awfully warm, like hinting to the despair that gnawed at the back of his head that he wasn’t as unlovable as he thought.
#roman roy x reader#roman roy x you#roman roy fluff#roman roy#succession#succession fanfiction#roman roy imagine#succession imagine
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all hers, part iii
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue
summary: you’re hers. but she’s yours too. sometimes she needs a little reminding. sometimes you have no choice but to tie her up.
warnings: (+18): smut: pussy-eating, vaginal fingering, bondage, dom!reader, ghostface!tara.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: for anon, who requested dom!reader with some bondage. let me know what you want to see next ;)
In the end, it really isn’t that hard to hoodwink your Dad into thinking you were fast asleep in your bed most weeknights.
You followed the same routine, ate dinner with him, said goodnight, then climbed out your bedroom window into Tara’s waiting car. In the mornings, she’d wake you with lazy kisses, take you back home before he woke up. You’d meet him downstairs for breakfast. And he didn’t suspect a thing.
It was one of those nights again. You were watching a movie tonight, some indie horror Tara had on her watchlist. You lay against her, sprawled across the couch lazily, head on her shoulder. When you’d first met her, you’d hated horror, hated any kind of gore. Now, you don’t mind it so much.
The actress is kind of cute. You find yourself thinking. She has dark hair, dark eyes, just like Tara’s. You briefly consider saying it aloud. You think better of it.
“The main girl is kind of cute.” Tara says, casually. Sometimes you think she can read your mind.
Jealousy flickers hot through you. It wasn’t often Tara expressed interest in other girls. In fact, it was almost never. She was completely devoted to you, or so you had thought.
You frown, grip her hand a little tighter.
“Too bad for her, you’re mine.”
She hums, a smile playing on her lips. She likes it when you do that. Claim her. When you’re as possessive as she is.
You turn your attention back to the TV, a little irked. She isn’t that cute, you think. And she isn’t Tara’s type. At all. Unconsciously, you tug Tara’s hand into your lap, grip tight.
“What would you do if she was here right now?” Her voice is low. Lips against your ear. “If she was here. In this room. Hitting on me.”
It’s a weighted question. You tighten your grip on her waist.
“I’d tell her to fuck off.”
Tara’s watching you. Your jaw is clenched.
“Is that all?”
You look at her. Try to figure out what kind of game she’s playing.
“What if you walked in on us? Having sex.”
At this you sit up. Stare at her. Even the thought is like ice water down your spine.
“I’d kill you.” Something flickers in her eyes.
“Just me?” She whispers. “Would you kill her too?”
Desire flickers deep within you. You let yourself think. Wonder. If some whore put her hands all over Tara. Kissed her. Took her to bed. You imagine walking in on them, some other girl in Tara’s lap. Riding her. Kissing her. Jealousy flickers through you, tearing your stomach into knots.
“I’d gut her like a fish.” Is what you say. “And then fuck you until you forgot her name.”
Tara’s mouth falls open slightly. Her eyes black with desire. She presses up into you, takes your lips in a searing kiss.
“Because I’m yours.” She says, breathlessly. “And you’re mine.”
You nod.
She presses up into you. Kisses you fiercely.
“Fuck.” She murmurs against your lips. She’s excited. You can tell by the way her hands are roaming, tugging gently at the base of your shirt. “Let’s go upstairs, baby. I want you.”
It’s a familiar trek by this point.
You’re fused at the lips, as always, wild hands and gentle gasps as you try to undress each other before you reach the bedroom. You’re already down to your underwear by the time your back hits the mattress, Tara’s weight on top of you, similarly undressed as she fumbles with your underwear.
She’s gripping your hips. Unclipping your bra, pressing into you. You feel strange. Usually you like it this way. Tara on top, dominating you. It isn’t what you want tonight, you realize all at once. The thought of someone else with her is fresh in your mind. You want to flip her over. Make her remember she’s yours.
“Stop.” You command. She pauses, looks at you, a little confused. Her hand brushes your cheek.
“What is it babe?” She asks, “Are you okay?”
“I don’t want it like this.” She looks confused. You grab her suddenly, flip her around onto the bed. Crawl over her. She’s watching, a little surprised.
“I want to be on top.”
You press a hot kiss to her lips. She smiles against your mouth. “You know I like it when you’re on top.” She says, sucking at the base of your neck. Her fingers trail down between your legs.
“No, baby.” You say, you reach for her hands, hold both of them over her head. “I want to be on top.”
She blinks up at you.
“Oh.”
You kiss her once more, bite at her bottom lip as you let her hands go. You press your full weight onto her, holding her into the mattress. Grind down into her as you reach for her thighs, guide them around your waist.
You slip your tongue between her lips, grind mindlessly against her as you kiss. She’s wet, you can feel her on your stomach. You break away from Tara’s lips, trail kisses down her chest.
Her hands grip tight around your neck, tugging you back up to her.
She kisses you again, her thighs locking tight around your waist. You murmur against her lips, try to pull yourself out of her grasp. This isn’t what you’d meant. You were on top but she still had all the control.
“Stop.” You say, but she doesn’t listen. Her lips fall to your jaw, sucking hotly as she grinds herself up into you.
“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself I’m going to tie them up.” You order, suddenly. Your own voice startles you. She pauses, looks up at you.
“Is that what you want?” You whisper against her lips. “You want me to tie you up and fuck you?”
Her eyes dart between yours. She licks her lips.
“I want to touch you.” Is her answer, but you shake your head.
“No touching. Not until you’ve earned it.”
You can see the fight in her eyes. She wants to challenge you, you can tell. She’s not naturally submissive. Slowly, she nods.
You smile. Nuzzle into her neck.
“Good girl.”
She lets out a breathless little sigh at that, her mouth dropping open only slightly. You press warm kisses down her chest, stopping at the slope of her chest to take her breast in your mouth. She groans as you tease her, kissing, scraping your teeth over her nipples.
“YN.” She moans. Her hands are in your hair, trying to push you down to where she wants you, “Please.”
You release her nipple with a wet pop, look up at her as you untangle her hands from your hair. “No touching.” You insist.
Her lip twitches. She rises up to meet you, takes your face in a desperate kiss. She tugs you into her lap before you can protest, her hands grip your ass as she bites down on your earlobe.
“You’re mine.” She growls into your ear, “Mine to touch, mine to play with. If I want to touch you I will.”
Her words go straight to your pussy. You feel yourself flood with arousal as you close your eyes, imagine just letting her throw you back onto the bed and do whatever she wants to you.
No. Not yet.
You grab her face, take her lips in a searing kiss. Then you’re taking her hands and tugging them above her head, pushing her back into the mattress.
“Naughty girl.” You scold her, “I told you not to touch. I warned you.”
You release her. Climb off her body and make your way over to her closet. She has a scarf somewhere, you remember, fish it out of one of her drawers.
When you get back to the bed she’s watching you with clouded eyes.
“Scoot up.” You tell her. She doesn’t. You grip her legs, lift her to the headboard. Her eyes flash, surprised by your strength. When you reach for her hands, this time she doesn’t protest.
“So disobedient.” You murmur as you tie the scarf around her wrists, “What am I going to do with you?”
You loop the scarf to the headboard.
She looks so pretty in her restraints, hands held high above her head, lips blood red and swollen from your kisses. There’s something in her eyes, you can’t quite make out; arousal, sure, tinged with a little bit of uncertainty. Like she’s turned on, but she isn’t sure why.
You reward her with a kiss. Move back to admire your handy-work. She’s only in her underwear now, bra long discarded. You finish the job, pulling her panties down her legs. You lick your lips. She looks delectable. Restrained, and wet and naked. All yours.
“I can’t move my hands.” She says, pointedly.
“Yes baby, that’s the point.”
She tugs at her restraints, but they don’t even budge. The knots you learned in girl scouts were finally coming in handy.
“I can’t touch you.” She whines.
“It’s my turn to touch you.” You say. You spread her legs, nestle yourself between them. “If you’re a good girl and do exactly what I say, maybe I’ll take them off.”
Her eyes flash. She goes quiet, stops struggling against the binds. You press a gentle kiss to her lips.
“Can you do that?” You ask, “Can you be good for me?”
She likes that, you note. She relaxes slightly, presses up into your kiss.
You kiss her, slow. Trail your hands down her body. Press warm kisses down her body, drag your lips down her stomach. It wasn’t often you got to do this, worship her. You take your time, kissing her hips, the tops of her thighs, tasting the sweet salt of her skin.
By the time you reach her center, she’s drizzling arousal onto the mattress.
“Don’t tease.” She’s looking down at you. Pulling hard against her restraints. “Please, baby.”
“Hmm.” You press a kiss to her thigh. “Orgasms are for good girls. But you haven’t been a good girl tonight, have you, darling?”
She furrows her eyebrows. Tries to squeeze her legs tighter around you.
“I told you not to touch and you did.” You sigh, “I even had to tie you up.” You press a heavy kiss to her hip. She’s tugging a little too hard at her restraints, now, desperate to free herself. You grip her thighs, hold her in place.
“Stop it.” You say, voice hard. She blinks, stops struggling.
“See?” You say, “Bad girl. You can’t help it, can you?”
“I just want to touch you.” She says. Her voice is gravelly, low. Not quite pleading. But close.
You take pity on her, press a gentle kiss to the top of her public bone. Her breath hitches.
“I know.” You murmur against her skin, “But it’s my turn, baby.”
You dip down, press your lips to her velvet folds. Her taste, her smell makes you salivate. You smooth your tongue through her, taking as much of it as you can into your mouth. Tara gasps beneath you as you begin your assault.
It’s so nice to eat her pussy uninterrupted. Without her trying to tug you back up to kiss you, without her greedy hands reaching for you, always searching for more.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like receiving pleasure, it was just that she desired your pleasure more than her own. She had this compulsion to please you. If you had your fingers inside her, she’d slip hers into you too. If you wanted to go down on her, she’d insist you sit on her face. Sometimes she’d cum before you even got to touch her, turned on so much just from fucking you. It wasn’t fair. You wanted her as much as she wanted you.
Her body is tight, hips moving madly against your lips. She’s tugging on her restraints again.
“Baby.” You press a warm, lingering kiss to her inner thigh, “Relax.”
“Come up here.” She says. There’s no control in her voice anymore. She’s needy, desperate, “Come sit on my face. Let me taste you.”
“Soon, sweetheart.” You murmur. You rub the outside of her thighs, trying to give her some comfort. “Right now I want to make you feel good.”
You dart your tongue back out, lap gently at her. Syrupy sweetness oozes onto your tongue, you lick it up, greedy. You swirl your tongue in circles around her clit, gripping onto her thighs, trying to pull her even closer. She’s tilting her hips up to meet your mouth, breathless little moans slipping from her lips the way they always did when she was close.
You lift your fingers to slip into her, hum against her clit as you feel her wet heat encompass you whole. You curl your fingers, tongue swirling madly around her as her legs clench around your head. Drive your fingers hard into her. She’s earned it now, you think as you suck gently on her clit. Such a good girl, letting you tie her up and fuck her. She deserves a reward. You tell her so. Press a final kiss to her thigh before you take her to the edge, sucking and licking and fucking her into her orgasm.
She lets out a long, quiet moan, her entire body seizing as she cums in your mouth. You groan, her thighs pressed tight around your ears, her arousal dripping past your lips and onto your chin. You can feel her tight cunt throbbing around you, heartbeat steady as she pants, trying to recover her breath.
You press one more kiss to her. Untangle yourself from her legs.
You climb up her body, press a wanting kiss to her swollen lips.
“Good girl.” You mumble into her lips, “Thank you, baby.”
She’s slack against you, body still thrumming from her orgasm. You tuck yourself against her body, rest your head on her chest.
“Untie me.” She says, not even seconds later, “Please.”
You reach for the scarf, fumble for a moment before you tug it off her. Her wrists are red, chaffed from all her struggling. Before you can even toss the scarf aside, her hands are on you trying to pull you closer. She sighs against your lips, like everything is suddenly right in the world.
You close your eyes, kiss her, not even realizing how much you’d missed her hands on you. Before you can enjoy the moment, she’s flipping you over, pinning you down into the mattress. You gasp. She hovers above you, her thigh between your legs. She’s gripping your hands over your head, looping the scarf around your wrists.
“You had your fun.” Tara murmurs, eyes glinting with mischief, “Now it’s my turn.”
Next part
#ghostface!tara#scream#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x fem reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#mine#ah
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Seeing You
request: yes
r losses their glasses (or maybe someone takes them) during first period. you kinda need them to see and without them you struggle (can’t find way around school, headache from straining eyes etc) mel goes into her usual protective mel mode
A/N: hellooo back again, sorry i haven’t written in a while and if melissa is OOC i apologize for that as well 😭 trying to get back in the swing of things. thank u sm anon for sending this in! mwah
The morning was off to a good start. Coffee was delicious, you arrived with enough time to prepare for the students, a decent Monday morning. With the ring of the bell, you walked to your door and greeted each and every student that came in. Across the hall, you saw Melissa. She looked up at you at the same time, and the two of you shared a smile. Melissa had a special place in your heart, and you had made a place in hers.
Once everyone had filed in, you returned to your classroom. “Good morning my angels, are we excited to start the day?” You asked the group. In response there was a mix of ‘yes’s’ and cheers from the kids, you always tried to get them excited at the beginning of the day. Better to be off to a good start, you always thought. Grabbing a stack of papers from your desk, you went to pass them out. “My shoe is untied!” One of your students shouted from the other side. “Well why don’t I help you tie it? I’ll show you, it’s easy.” You bent down and showed your student how to tie a knot, and then undid it for him to try on his own. When he succeeded, you gave him a high five and went to stand back up. Unfortunately, you hit your head on the desk, causing your glasses to fall off and give you a painful headache. Thanks to the swinging feet of many, many kids, your glasses were nowhere to be found.
Shit. You couldn’t see all too well without them, and the spare pair you kept at work was actually at Melissa’s house from a few nights before. With the lack of direction, your classroom began to get rowdy and it was time to prioritize. Get through this period, and then look for them. That turned into second period, and third, and then it was lunch time. When the bell rang, you led your students to the cafeteria, holding hands with the line leader. Definitely for their sake, not because you couldn’t see and had no idea where you were going. All of the kids shuffled in, excited to get some food in their bellies, and you were left alone to find your way back. Taking a few steps, you squinted and looked around for anything that might help.
“Hon?” A familiar, sweet voice was heard from behind you. Whipping around, all you could see was black clothes and red hair, enough to know it was Melissa. “You get lost or somethin?” She asked, taking your hand in hers. “Actually, yeah. I lost my glasses this morning and to be quite honest, I have no idea where I’m standing right now,” You joked with your girlfriend, but she felt you squeeze her hand tighter. “Well c’mon sweetheart, let’s go find them.” Melissa led you back to your classroom, never letting go of your hand. It made you nervous, being at school and showing affection. Only a select few at Abbott were aware of the blooming relationship, but that seemed to be the last thing on the redhead’s mind as she swung your hands together and rubbed her thumb across your skin.
Back to your room, Melissa let you unlock the door, and immediately started looking for them. “Where did you lose them?” She asked, scanning the room. “I was helping a student at that desk,” you pointed to where you hit your head earlier. Remembering the incident reminded you of the throbbing pain, and you rubbed the back of your head trying to soothe it. Of course, Melissa noticed. She noticed everything you did. Instead of looking, the other teacher walked over to you and lightly pushed on your shoulder to get you to sit at your own desk. She took your chin in her hand and gently stroked your cheek with her thumb. “Baby did you hit your head? Or are you squinting too much?” She asked quietly. “What gave it away?” You asked shyly, embarrassed at how quickly this snowballed.
“You winced when the bell rang, you rubbed your head when you talked about the desk, it’s not rocket science hon,” She teased. Before you could answer, she opened up one of your desk drawers and pulled out some pain reliever for you. You silently wondered how she knew you kept it there. She passed you her drink as well, and motioned for you to take it. “Good, you have to take care of yourself, even when you’re at work.” Melissa reminded you. She went back to the desk you had pointed to, and began searching.
“I don’t know what happened, they fell off and then they disappeared like the floor ate them.” You told her. You squinted to try and see what she was doing, but Melissa quickly told you to knock it off before you made the headache worse. After a few minutes, she returned to your side. “I think I know what happened,” Melissa said, and set down a pair of broken glasses in front of you, complete with a shoe print on the lenses. She leaned down to kiss your forehead and started stroking your hair.
“I’ll run home and get your extra pair for you, and have Jacob grab the kids. Can I trust you to stay here and not blindly injure yourself again?” She teased. When you nodded, she gave you another kiss and left to get your things. The peaceful silence didn’t last long, after a few minutes your door was open again and your students, as well as Jacob, came running in. “Here they are! Sorry we’re a bit late, I had to get Melissa’s kids too.” He said, skipping up to your desk. “Thank you, I owe ya one,” you said to him.
“I think you owe Melissa one. You’re lucky she’s so kind and attentive to you. I’ve only known her for a few years but I've never seen her so happy with someone before,” Jacob said honestly. His words sank in, he knew. As if he could read your mind, he started talking again. “I won’t say anything, but I doubt it’ll be a secret for long. Schemmenti is only this soft for you,” With that Jacob left, leaving you with pink cheeks at the realization of just how sweet and caring Melissa was with you. Every time you entered the room, her tough exterior melted away, and only for you.
You settled your students back into their seats, having them come meet you at your desk if they needed anything. Before long, your door was open again, and there she was. Melissa waved to your students as she was greeted with tiny “Hello Ms. Schemmenti!’s”
Coming to you, she set your extra pair of glasses down in front of you and leaned against the edge of your desk. “Here honey, is your head feeling better?” She asked. Although you couldn’t see, you knew her face was full of concern. “Yeah, a lot better.” You put your glasses back on and let your vision adjust for a moment. “Thank you, Mel. For helping and taking care of me.” You gently wrapped your pinky around hers, but she wanted more, and held your hand behind the desk up against her leg. “I’ll always take care of you,” Melissa smiled. You sat there for a moment, taking in all of her beauty. It was a simple thing really, but you felt so special today because of her.
“What? I got somethin’ on my face?” She asked. You giggled at her and shook your head. “No, no. I just haven’t seen you today and I missed it.” You answered and flicked your glasses for emphasis. When the two of you heard little voices whispering you were reminded that you were at work, and the tooth-rotting romance would have to wait until you were back home.
#abbott elementary fics#abbott elementary#lisa ann walter#reader fic#melissa hours#wlw#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x you#wlw fiction
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Atta Girl | J.M.
Pairing: Joel Miller x plus size f!reader
Synopsis: Joel loves your body just as much as you do and shows you how much he can’t get enough of you.
Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni! Porn with very little plot, reader is plus size & hardly insecure but has a moment where she asks if Joel is sure he wants her to ride his face, face riding, Joel squeezes you everywhere, praise, a little degrading if you squint at the end, spanking, light choking, Joel telling you what to do, dirty talk, pet names (baby doll, bunny, etc) pull out method to make you a toaster strudel hehe, Joel calls himself daddy like one time, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex, readers hair is long enough to pull. Let me know if I missed anything!
Word Count: 1.9K || A/N: I just want all my plus sized babies to know they are beautiful and Joel Miller would fuck you so hard he’d leave whipped and wanting more. This was a request I received and as a plus sized girl myself, I wanna see more positive stories about the reader already loving her body. I’m nervous posting this, but fuck it here we go!
Splitting wood for the fireplace wasn’t something you enjoyed whenever it needed to be done. Joel wasn’t around since he was on patrol duty and wasn’t sure if he’d be back before the sun went down behind the mountains in Jackson, meaning it was in fact your turn to chop wood. Not wanting to get any of your shirts dirty with mud, you thought it would be a great idea to wear one of his many flannels. Now, they didn’t hang off your body and that was okay, he actually enjoyed the way you’d tie the material up about halfway over your tummy, letting your breasts push together just a tad by the knot.
That’s how you ended up in the back of your shared cabin with Joel, sweat coating your forehead and your chest glistening in the late evening sun. Grunting with every split of wood and a chunk flying off the stump, you were almost to the end of the pile when the small screen door attached to the porch swung open, your worn out and starved man coming outside into the yard. Joel's hands went to his hips and his head dropped as he chuckled, looking back up at you. “The hell are ya doin’ sweet girl? I told you I was gonna do this when I got back from patrollin’.” His face slightly changed when he noticed his shirt tied up and pushing your breasts together just enough for him to forget how to speak.
Holding the axe in one hand and brushing off your dirt stained hands onto your jeans that were hugging your hips deliciously, you shook your head quickly and looked back at him as if he said something completely crazy. “No, no I’m more than capable of chopping wood for our fireplace in our house, Joel. It’s not a big deal, it’s just another shirt you lose.” You poke fun at him as you squat down to gather the pieces when you could hear the faintest groan from Joel behind you.
His head was spinning and landed in dark waters that flooded his mind with vile and unholy thoughts about you. He was watching your jeans get tighter around your ass as you squatted down, they were almost becoming a second skin to you. Those were the jeans he loved to see you in because they hugged your curves in all the places he loved the most- everywhere.
“If you stare any harder you’re going to burn holes into my ass, Joel.” You snark and stack up a few pieces of wood in your arms to start heading to the screen door. He snaps out of the trance your plump ass had him in and makes it to the door before you and holds it open, allowing you to walk in before him. He wanted more time to watch your hips swing with every step you take but also he was a southern gentleman at heart, so holding doors open for you wasn’t out of the ordinary.
“Baby I’m sorry I jus’ can’t help it. You’re so sexy and I just can't can’t stop staring at the way your jeans fit ya. The way your shirt rides up and shows off your back a lil bit.” He whispered into your ear as you stood still for a second, his hands grabbing your plush hips, thumbs brushing over the soft skin that was peeking under the shirt that was riding up. A smirk plastered on your face, you continued on your way to the fireplace that was empty of wood and got down on all fours, starting to toss wood into the hole. Right on queue, Joel leans against the wall of the living room, watching your ass rock back and forth as the pile next to you dwindles down rapidly. The way your thighs pressed against each other like perfect puzzle pieces had his jeans getting tighter and tighter, his cock getting harder with every second passing by. Your breasts were practically spilling from your tank top with you bent over, a true sight for Joel to remember the next time he needed something to think about when he was alone. With no words spoken, Joel walks over towards you and kneels behind you and runs his hands over the curve of your ass, grunting slowly.
“You’re so beautiful, jus’ wanna pin you down right here and make you feel so good, honey.” His words shoot tingles all the way down your back and before you knew it, you were arching your back a little more, wiggling your ass in front of him.
“Who, me?” You innocently ask, tossing the rest of the wood inside the fireplace. Joel’s hands grab your hair gently and give a little tug, nudging you to stand up on your knees. One of his hands wraps around your stomach to hold you close, squeezing you against him.
“Yes, you. Want ya to plant this beautiful pussy on my face and don’t stop ridin’ until I can’t breathe.”
“Are you sure about that cowboy? I’ll do it, I just don’t wanna hurt you.” He scoffed and grabbed your squishy cheeks, pinching them together.
“Stop that right now, you hear me? There’s no way you could hurt me. Now, take off your fuckin’ jeans and panties and put your pussy on my face.”
You hastily get out of your jeans and panties, tossing them over by the corner and Joel wiped his face in complete awe, your curves on full display for him to scan over closely. “I can almost taste you already baby doll, fuck.” Joel rips off his shirt and lays on the couch, resting his head right on the arm rest. “Climb up here and get comfy, darlin’. I’m not stoppin’ until you’re beggin’ me to stop.” He pats the cushion on the side of his head and grins like he won the lottery and to him he did. He was about to have his way with you and tear you apart. You crawl over to the couch and kiss his side, making your way up his chest messily and to his lips, his firm hands grabbing your round face to hold you closer. “Cmon now I’m not gettin’ any younger and I’m starvin.” He growls and yanks you from the floor, giving your ass a good smack, feeling it jiggle under his hand.
With his help you climb up and hover over his face, nervous to rest your full weight on him. His strong arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you down onto him, his lips connecting to your clit instantly. His tongue licked up your juices and twirled circles around your bud, his eyes shutting in bliss. Your fingers tugged at the salt and peppered hair under you and your back arched deeply, moaning his name breathlessly. “Joel oh my god, fuck that’s so damn good, don’t stop.” Reaching behind your back, you unclasped your bra and ditched his shirt, letting your breasts fall from the fabric and into your hands. He was humming under you as he moved his face from side to side, still licking and sucking on your clit. Your hips move back and forth on his face, his grip tightening around your thighs, bringing out your whimpers from deep inside you. “Atta girl, ride my face like that.” His words vibrate against your pussy and you grind against his face faster, just on the brink of cumming.
Before you could let go on his face, he pulled you down off the back of the couch and took off his pants and boxers, bending you over the armrest of the couch his head was just on.
Joel’s hand collides with your plump ass once more before he spreads your cheeks apart, burying his cock inside your hole with a throaty groan.
You cry out his name and hang your head, his hands coming around and grabbing handfuls of your breasts. He squeezes tightly as he begins to thrust in and out, moaning how good you feel wrapped around him. Joel pushes down on the middle of your back and runs his hand up your side, “Bet you like that huh, my cock deep inside you poundin’ away so hard it makes you think about nothin’ but my hips smackin’ against your perfect ass.” He grabs a handful of your ass cheek and groans out your name once more.
“Fuck yeah I do, baby. I love the way you tear me up from the inside out and make me so dick dumb and fucked out, all that’s on my mind is being a slut for you.”
Your filthy mouth gets him going once more, drawing out more moans from him than before. His arms wrap around your soft tummy and flip you over, laying you down gently on your back against the couch cushions. You reach down and grab his cock, shoving it deep inside you once more so he can start fucking you again. Joel smirks at your eagerness and licks his lips quickly just at the mere sight of you shoving yourself full of his cock.
“Such an eager lil thing huh? Can’t wait a few seconds f’me to do it, you gotta do it yourself?”
“I love the way you feel inside me Joel, can’t get enough of you. Fuck, please don’t stop.”
Joel’s warm hand presses down on your velvety abdomen, keeping you right where he wanted you. He leans down and presses his face against your supple breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple while he thrusts harder inside you, trying to get you to beg for him to slow down. His free hand moves to your other nipple and pinches it a few times before grabbing the entire pillowy breast, squishing it in his hand.
“Fuck- bunny I’m not gonna last much longer, not with your body lookin’ so damn good the way it does. You’re squeezin’ around my cock and you know that drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” He grunts against the shell of your ear and nuzzles his face into your neck, his hair brushing against your cheek. As your face contorts with pleasure, you can feel yourself about to cum all over his cock. “Yeahhh jus’ like that for me sweet girl, cum on daddy’s cock like a good girl, I can feel it. Jus’ let go all over me baby.” He pants into your neck and grabs your hair as your legs shake, cumming all over him. Your screams of his name and curse words echo throughout the living room and you swear your neighbors could hear you loud and clear. Joel’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, indicating he wasn’t going to last much longer. Sitting up slowly, he pulls out from your tight entrance and cums all over your tummy, groaning everything under the sun that he could think of. As he milked himself empty on you, you giggled at the pool of cum dribbling down your sides. Joel throws his head back trying to catch his breath as he sits down in the seat next to you, his eyes still closed from the euphoria of unloading all over his girl. “Jus’ give me a second and I’ll get a rag to clean you up and getcha some water baby. Fuck, you are somethin’ else.” he joked and kissed the top of your hand tiredly.
#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller x plus size reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x you#joel miller fic#joel smut#tlou hbo#joel tlou#joel miller pedro pascal
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soft release
summary: steven got a little rough with this one
pairing: steven grant x male reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ warning, s3x, top!steven, rough stuff, nods to comic steven, maybe ooc idk
a/n: based on this request.
masterlist | more moon knight
His silence was deafening, all you could hear was the sound of the car speeding through the streets of London. His hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. Your hands were cold and clammy.
You were on the way home from a gala with your partner, famous museum curator, Steven Grant of the National Art Gallery. The gala featured new historical findings from a site in Egypt funded by the Grant Foundation.
There were at least fifty people in the museum. Everyone was clad in pristine clothing, gowns, and expensive suits drinking equally expensive champagne. You came as Steven’s partner, a surprise to a lot of his colleagues. He wore a dark pinstripe tuxedo with the brightest white tie, his shoes were polished so bright it shone under the moonlight.
He made you wear a similarly luxurious midnight blue tuxedo that complemented his. He introduced you to the other curators in Europe. You tried not to get bored but it definitely was. Steven said he hated it himself. You anxiously downed a few glasses of champagne, which you eventually regretted.
He was still silent when you arrived at the manor, removing his coat and his tie. He looked at you with his sunken eyes, a glare you would only see from Marc but you knew it was still Steven. He licked his lips and let out a sigh.
“If this is about earlier—” you tried to say, but Steven pulled you into your shared bedroom, your back against the hardwood door.
“Flirting with my co-workers, ‘Do you think that was nice of you, love?” he said, his face so close to yours you could feel his warm breath on your lips. His hand is above your shoulder.
You shook your head, speechless. “Don’t think so,” he pulled back and went onto the bed removing his silver cufflinks. “Come here,” he gestured to the bed, his voice deep and serious, like a general giving away orders.
“I’m so sorry—” you uttered. He let out a few tsks before pulling his belt off. On the usual, it would be you who would be the more aggressive when it comes to stuff like this. You went to sit on the edge of your white king-sized bed, Steven looking down on you with shadows in his eyes.
He caressed your cheek with his thumb, it was so warm against your skin. His thumb went to your lips as he bent down to kiss you. You let out a soft moan as his lips left yours. He smirked. “Can we play?” he asked. You nodded before he placed his tie around your eyes, it was soft against your nose bridge and your temples.
Steven started to undress you, your shirt, your pants, your underwear. Before he laid you down he took the tie around your neck and wrapped it around your wrists and secured it with a knot. He gently placed you against the wide bedspread, your arms above your head.
“I hated the way he looked at you, the way he touched your hand as he talked to you,” he whispered in your ear leaving wet kisses around your neck. You could feel the stubble prick your skin. “Is it fair, my love? To let me see all that?” he said. You shook your head before he spun you around so your face faced the sheets, your ass cold against the air.
He smacked your rear with a loud clap, like a thunderstrike. A red print is left on your skin. He massaged it with a grip that grew tighter and tighter. You let out a cry from impact, tears forming in your eyes. Steven knew how much this might have shocked you, how it wasn’t really like him. But he saw the way that man looked at you, filled with so much lust and want, he wanted to hurt him. “Shit, I’m so sorry love was that too much?” he shakingly said.
“No, it—it’s good I liked it,” you witnessed a new side to him, your sweet and soft-spoken boyfriend was now all rough with you. You felt your center turn and harden. Steven’s own hardness grew, the visual of you prone on the bed bound and blindfolded, he cursed. It was Marc’s idea. He heard him whisper it in the car. Do it, teach ‘em a lesson.
“You’re so naughty, what will I do without you, love?” he said as he undressed his trousers. He bent down to kiss your nape, you could feel his tip rub against your back, leaving a wet trail. He took some lube and prepared your hole, his big digits inserted in you opening you up. He left kisses against your ass, leaving a few bites. You wince from the slight pain.
You hear a foil wrapper being opened and an elastic being stretched. “Can I be rough with you?” he said, you let out a whiny yes. He gently pressed into you, his hardness entering you. The two of you let out a loud groan, his hands gripping your waist.
He proceeded to thrust into you with fervor, he let out loud needy noises. You could feel his fingers press into your hip bones, his skin slapping into yours through each thrust. You could feel the hard tip ram into your most sensitive spots. You cried out curses and his name. The bed started to creek and rock back and forth, your fingers dug into the soft sheets.
The sheer amount of force he was letting out was enough to push you to the edge, you could feel your cock leak so much pleasure. Stop, he’s close, a voice whispered to Steven. He pulled out, you let out a sob from the loss of sensation.
“Steven—babe,” you were a whimpering mess.
“Not yet pretty, ‘need to show you how mad I am right now,” he sulked before turning you over and placing hips between your legs. He started to press wet kisses around your torso, his tongue playing with one of your nipples. The lack of vision made your whole body feel much more sensitive.
Your bound hands tried to touch his hair as he kissed you down to your leaking cock, he swiftly took your wrist and pinned them back above your head. He went to kiss around your neck, his hand going to your cock, he stroked it so fast, and with the precum, it was so slippering you were sure you’d finally cum. He stopped when your legs began to close, you let out another cry.
“You’re leaking so much, love. No one can make you like this but us.”
“I know—”
“Just the three of us for you. Is that not enough?”
“You’re m—more than enough.”
“So it won’t happen again?” he sounded like he was begging, pleading for you to only care for him.
“Yes—”
The moment you gave out your answer he pressed his cock again to your hole and began to fuck you again. He was harder, it was stiff around your rear, but pleasurable sliding across your muscles. His hip bones clashed against your skin, wet sounds filled the room. Your eyes rolled back from the sensation, your legs trembling.
The constant rubbing loosened the tie from your eyes, you saw Steven covered in sweat, glistening under the moonlight. His curly hair was all tousled and the veins in his hands were visible as it held your waist. He looked at you and noticed that you could finally see him. He placed a wanton kiss on your lips, it was lousy at best but filled with so much want. You placed your hands around his head and pulled him close.
He untied you and your hands began to snake across his wide back. The feeling of his cock inside you was starting to make your head feel light, your eyes half-lidded and your toes curled. You were a moaning mess under him.
He whispered that he was close. His thrusts became erratic but still hard. You asked if you could ride him and he obliged. You began to ride him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Your hips moved up and down, his hands clenched on your ass. The two of you shared one last kiss as he came inside you, your own cum shooting on your torsos. You felt the room darken as your eyes closed.
You woke up to the room still dark, the moon shone on the window. You felt a cold wet towel on your rear. It was Steven, cleaning you up as he pressed soft kisses on the redness around your waist.
“You’re awake,” he said, placing the wet towel on the basin near the bed stand. “‘Sorry if it was too much.”
“Marc got you into this?” you giggled. He nodded like a scolded puppy. You stroke his wet hair before you place a light kiss on his lips. “Cuddle me into bed then, my body is sore,” you said as he took out your softest blankets and covered your naked bodies. He peppered you with kisses before you went back into slumber.
interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>
#moon knight x reader#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#jake lockley x reader#moon knight x male reader#steven grant x male reader#marc spector x male reader#jake lockley x male reader#moon knight smut#steven grant smut#marc spector smut#jake lockley smut
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