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simplyholl · 4 months

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A Night With The Winter Soldier

Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️

Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.

Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?

You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.

Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.

It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.

You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.

You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.

Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.

The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.

You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.

He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.

Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.

“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.

He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.

Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.

Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.

When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.

You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.

You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.

His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.

He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.

“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.

“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.

Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.

You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.

You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @wheredafandomat @freegardenbanananeck @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

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jjkamochoso · 2 months

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Hii!! I love your headcannons they are so adorable 😭

Can you maybe do one "how the jjk men will confess"??

Have a nice day!! ♡♡

Oh my gosh thank you so much😭 I’m glad you’re enjoying them!! Here’s your request—I hope you like it!!❤️

JJK Men and How They Confess They Like You

Warnings: slight cussing in Inumaki’s

Yuji: confesses during movie night

Since he’s such a happy go lucky guy, I think Yuji would definitely not realize he had a crush on one of his friends until the realization randomly struck him like a freight train because he just really enjoyed your company and didn’t think too much about how close you were. He didn’t know he was going to confess to you tonight, but when his feelings for you dawned on him, he couldn’t hold back.

“Ready to watch the movie?” he asked, a wide smile plastered on his face. You nodded and he started the film, snuggling into his seat. He didn’t know why, but tonight felt… different. When your fingers collided in the popcorn bowl, he was reluctant to pull away from your warm touch. He felt himself slowly move closer to you as the movie continued on. During a particularly gruesome scene, you found yourself yelping and shoving your face into his side while Yuji’s heart started beating faster than he ever thought possible. From that point on, Yuji understood that these feelings meant he had developed a huge crush on you. While the credits rolled, Yuji looked you dead in the eyes.

“Y/n, I really like you.”

“I’m here watching Human Earthworm with you, of course I like you too, Yuji.”

“Not like that,” he blurted, blushing slightly, “well, I mean yeah, I like you, but I also like like you. I think you’re really cute.”

“Well, you’re in luck, Itadori,” you replied to him, smiling softly and taking his hand. “I think you’re really cute too.”

Megumi: confesses accidentally

We all know Fushiguro can be a tad bit moody at times (and we love him for that!) and this attitude seeps into his love life as well. I can totally see him having a crush for a very long time and even taking that secret to the grave with him! However, in the heat of the moment of getting a bit frustrated with you, he accidentally tells you how he truly feels!

You and Megumi were polar opposites and you were extremely talented at getting under his skin. Of course, your teasing was all in good fun and you never took it too far (until today, that is).

“Aww, our little puffer fish is getting mad! You guys, we better watch out! The porcupine is gonna launch his needles at us!” You, Nobara, and Yuji were almost on the ground due to laughing too much while Megumi was royally pissed.

“Ugh! Y/n! You’re so frustrating, I don’t know why I love you!”

It got eerily quiet. Megumi would’ve loved the silence any other time except for the fact he just told you he loved you, out loud, in front of all his classmates. His face turned beet red as he hightailed it out of there, rushing to his room as fast as his legs could carry him. You and your friends looked at each other, all with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

“I guess this is the part where you go after him?” suggested Nobara and you agreed, chasing after Megumi. You took a shortcut across campus and beat him to his room, blocking the door so he had to face you.

“Megumi, wait,” you said, between pants from running so hard, “I’m sorry I made you bare your feelings like that in front of everyone but you have to know I feel the same.”

Yuta: confesses on a holiday

Yuta, imo, is the BIGGEST romantic! This lil lover boy would love to confess his feelings for you during the magic of any holiday you celebrate, no matter if it was Christmas or Greenery Day.

In the month leading up to your birthday, Yuta decided he finally wanted to confess his feelings for you so he began to plan out everything he needed to make sure the day was as special as you are. Enlisting the help of Maki, Panda, and Toge, he was able to figure out all of your favorite things, from food to colors to games, and went searching around the city to make sure he had everything he needed for the big day. When your birthday finally came and you had no plans, you were delighted when Yuta invited you to a game night at his room. When he opened the door to let you in, you were greeted with decorations in your favorite color, a spread of all your favorite foods, and your favorite board games were stacked up in the corner, waiting to be played. You were in complete shock when he presented you with a bouquet of flowers as well, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Happy birthday, y/n. I hope you like it.” He took a deep breath and then cleared his throat before speaking again. “I also wanted to tell you that I really like you. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time and I hope this isn’t too forward but I would love to take you on a date sometime if you’ll let me.”

You were trying not to cry as you took the bouquet from him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, his face tinting a slight pink. Yuta was the best gift you could ask for!

Inumaki: confesses with a boombox and a sign

Inumaki had it harder than anyone at the school with his inability to communicate in a conventional way and I feel like that would frustrate him a lot in his love life. I see him as the type of person to have lots of fun, though, and be super cheesy with his crush!

Inumaki couldn’t stand it anymore, he had to tell you how he felt. And by tell you, he was going to use words in a way he hoped you’d never seen before! On a warm Saturday night, you opened a text from Inumaki.

9:42 pm

From: Toge👅

u up? come to ur window

You had no idea what this was about but knowing Toge, you knew it’d be worth it. You sent back a “k😂” and were ready to open your blinds when you heard music blasting outside your room. Your window was opened in a flash and you were met with a sight you prayed never left your mind. Toge was standing there, a boombox held over his head and a shit eating grin on his face. Just like an 80’s movie, Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” was the song of choice for the evening. You were absolutely shocked by this declaration of love, but even more so when he put down the stereo and picked up some handwritten signs.

“I have a… major crush…on you… will you… go out… with me?” You read as he quickly shuffled through the pile.

“Yes! I will!” you yelled out, but he cupped his hand to his ear to gesture you to speak louder as the song was still blaring next to him. You laughed and rolled your eyes as you ran outside, turning off the music.

“Of course I’ll go out with you.”

Noritoshi: confesses as a secret admirer

Noritoshi seems like the type to never waste time on futile things like crushes, especially when his focus is on bettering himself as clan heir. However, if he does fall in love, I think of him as a secret admirer who anonymously confesses his feelings in notes.

Your heart quickened its pace when you noticed another neatly folded paper sticking out of your bag after packing up your things in the library. You had been receiving love notes from a secret admirer and you were over the moon about it! Written on the various papers had been poems, observations, and sweet words from which the mouth (or, I guess hand) is still a mystery to you. This time was no different as you unfolded a poem and a pressed flower. From across the room, Noritoshi stared you down, gauging your reaction to his letter. You seemed to like it! He felt his heart flutter and was torn between wishing this nagging feeling whenever he saw you would go away while also relishing in the idea that he was capable of being loved. He quickly turned back to his notes as he noticed you approaching his desk.

“Hey Kamo! I was wondering, do you know whose handwriting this might be?” you asked sweetly, handing him the note. He tried to act as nonchalant as possible as he skimmed it over, pretending to think. He shook his head.

“Nope. He seems to—I mean THEY seem to—really like you. I’m sorry, I wish I could help more but I’m studying at the moment.”

“Okay. Well, thanks anyway! I’m sure I’ll see you around,” you said, glancing down at the handwritten notes he was slyly trying to conceal. As you walked away, you smirked, knowing exactly who your secret admirer was.

Todo: confesses during a fight with a curse

I know this man has no hesitations and grabs life by the reins!! I think Todo would waste no time trying to gain your attention whenever he’s training or fighting a curse, hoping he could woo you with his wit and muscles. Since he’s able to get good reads on people, I could see him lowkey trying to confirm you liked him back before he asked you out to avoid any undue awkwardness (not that he’d feel any shame—I don’t think he has an ounce of that in his body). One day, while working on a particularly tiresome mission, Todo decided that now was the best time to confess his crush on you.

“Y/n-chan! I have an urgent question to ask you!” he yelled to you as you two were busy hitting the curse you were sent to kill.

“What’s wrong? you asked, concerned he’d hurt himself or something.

“Did you notice how perfect you looked before you left the house today?”

You faltered, stunned by Todo’s words. When the curse lunged at you, Todo switched places with you and landed the final blow as the curse finally lay dead. You shook your head in confusion.

“Todo, what are you talking about?”

“Y/n,” he said, in an uncharacteristically toned down voice, “I really like you. You’re a gorgeous person and I was wondering if you’d allow me to take you on a date.”

You released a sigh of relief, a huge smile on your face.

“I thought you would never ask! I would love nothing more.”

In his excitement, Todo picked you up and spun you around. He couldn’t wait to treat you like the royalty you are!

Gojo: confesses nervously

I know a lot of people think Gojo would be able to put on the moves to woo someone without a problem, but I think when it came down to truly baring his heart, Gojo would have a very difficult time. That’s why I see him as a nervous confessor. Not quite able to find the right words, but tries nonetheless.

Gojo had unique ways of showing his love for people he deeply cared about. One of those ways was flaunting his immense wealth. That’s how you, his closest colleague, found yourself invited to dinner with him at one of Tokyo’s fanciest restaurants. You were no stranger to Gojo’s jokingly flirtatious ways, but tonight felt different. It seemed like he was actually giving you genuine compliments, and every time you returned the favor, he would look away, a feeling of warmth spreading through his face and down his neck. Finally, when dessert came around, Gojo knew he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/n, we’ve been friends for a long time, and I’ve loved every second of it. I just… I’ve been lying to you. And to myself. I…” He took a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself. You reached over the table to take hold of his hand and his heart was absolutely racing at the touch.

“Satoru, whatever it is, it’s okay,” you reassured him. He took in another swallow of air as he lifted off his blindfold to look you in your eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is, I’ve fallen for you, y/n. I hope you understand what I mean.” His bright blue eyes were shining in a way you’d never seen before but hoped you could witness time and time again.

“I understand you, Satoru, I always have. I love you too.”

Geto: confesses while out on a walk

I believe Suguru to be the suavest out of all the JJK men. As he got older, his air of nonchalance leads me to believe that if he caught feelings, he’d be quick to tell the person how he feels and would do so in a classic, mature way.

You had been part of Geto’s group of curse users for a long time and had been close with the leader himself for most of that time. One day, while you were training your cursed technique, Suguru was watching you with great interest. When you were finished, you were greeted with clapping hands and a big smile.

“Y/n! Great job as always. Come, take a walk with me,” he said, motioning you over to him. You obliged, taking hold of his outstretched arm. You two talked about random things you had dealt with throughout the week, feeling weights being lifted off your shoulders by being able to talk through these things with someone else. Geto was thrilled you had understood him and his worldview all those years ago because he felt like he finally had someone he could trust again. As you two made your way along the path, Geto stopped to pick a wildflower and presented it to you.

“I have lots of respect for you, y/n. I appreciate all the time we have spent together over the years and now I have something to confess. I believe I’ve fallen in love with you.” He gently brushed a piece of hair away from your face and placed the flower behind your ear. “Please let me know if you feel the same. If you don’t, I promise to never make mention of this again.”

You reached your hands up to cup Geto’s face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“I’m in love with you too… Suguru.”

Nanami: confesses over breakfast

Nanami is definitely another classically romantic man. I feel like he would be hesitant to tell you how he feels since the life of a jujutsu sorcerer is not easy and only ends in suffering, but eventually he would come to the conclusion that he’d rather live without any more regrets so he’d keep the confession simple with an act of service.

Nanami knew you like the back of his hand. He knew all your likes and dislikes, your favorite songs, what cat breeds you thought were the cutest. He also knew you were hopelessly, chronically late to work. As someone who respects the sanctity of time, he could never understand you (the biggest mystery was how a teacher who lived on campus could be late to work almost everyday), but he liked to help you out anyway. He would always pick up breakfast from his favorite cafe and leave it on your desk for you to enjoy. Today was a late start day for the school, and since he knew you so well, knew you wouldn’t have checked your email to see you didn’t need to come in at your normal time so when you came barreling in a minute before class started, you were greeted by Nanami sitting on your desk.

“It’s a late start day,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. You groaned in frustration.

“Of course it is! The one time I’m here on time,” you grumbled, sitting next to him.

“You’re cute when you’re disgruntled,” Nanami said, blushing when he realized he said that out loud. You tilted your head at him.

“I’m only cute when I’m disgruntled?” you teased, “That’s too bad. I think you’re cute all the time.” Nanami couldn’t believe what he just heard. You actually liked him back? He gestured to the bags and two coffees that were laid out on another desk.

“I brought us breakfast. May I join you to see if I think you’re cute while you’re eating?”

Choso: confesses with a plushie !! ^^

Oh my GOD I think Choso would have no clue what to do when he realized he liked you so who would he turn to for guidance? Yuji of course! And I think Yuji would suggest buying you a plushie instead of Choso’s suggestion of a wedding ring (at least he’s passionate🤷‍♀️).

Choso decided to drop by your office at the Tokyo jujutsu school to tell you he liked you and give you your gift. He sat on the floor next to the door, the plushie being held with a death grip in his large hands. As soon as he spotted you walking down the hallway, he clamored to get up.

“Choso! Hi! I wasn’t expecting you! Yuji just got out of class if you want to go see him,” you said, giving him a kind smile. Choso was extremely nervous but trying not to show it.

“Actually, I’m here for you. Y/n,” he got down on one knee, thrusting the plushie toward your shocked face, “you are unlike any person I have met before. You have taken over every one of my thoughts and my heart is no longer my own—it belongs to you. Please, will you accept this token of my love?” The token in question was a dog plushie with a bone in its mouth that said “I ruff you!” You took the plushie from his hands as he looked longingly in your eyes.

“I really like you, Choso. Of course I’ll accept it.”

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #yuji x reader #megumi x reader #yuta x reader #inumaki x reader #noritoshi x reader #todo x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader

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targaryenluvs · 5 months

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— HUNGER GAMES

a/n: look at my cute lil smiley fin 😭 god i love hunger games so much you don’t understand it’s my comfort movies and finn is my comfort character ❤️

RED MARKED STORIES HAVE DARK THEMES. READ WARNINGS PLEASE.

FINNICK ODAIR

— want and desire (req) dark themes

— summary: you’d thought you’d escaped the capitol, and to some extent, him, the ever so sweet and charming finnick odair. but apparently your fate had been signed, as it seemed you couldn’t get away from him, no matter how hard you tried.

— spring cleaning (blurb req)

— summary: finnick finally decides to clean out the garage with your help after you asking him forever.

— victors spoils

— summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

— lonely waters

— summary: even if you resided in the fishing district you only ever got close to the water for swimming late at night. it was your favourite time of the day, but it leaves you open and vulnerable to predators and people, the water won’t save you.. silly girl, don’t you remember? finnick odairs a champion swimmer.

— my people ft annie cresta

— summary: you’d been hired to help keep annie’s home clean and to keep her company. what you didn’t expect was to fall in love with her. and to find out that she was with finnick, and annie doesn’t want to let either of you go. but you’ve found your people, and you couldn’t be happier.

— miss officer

— summary: you’re tasked with training finnick odair for war and to fight in the captiol. only problem? he’s completely enamoured with you.

— breakups and makeups

— summary: you and finnick used to date, but it took a nasty turn when you heard rumours of his dalliances. but now the two of you reunite apart of the same alliance. will you make up or break up? again?

— damage control & lifeline (anon blurb)

— summary: finnick and his mentor getting into a fake relationship for damage control after peeta and katniss’ stunt at the 74th games + finnick saving his stylist from execution by proposing marriage.

— unrequited (anon blurb, implied smut)

— summary: you’d divulged one to many secrets to your favourite victor and he wasn’t afraid of using them against you. karmas a bitch!

— oh baby! (smut)

— summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

— capitol girl (req blurb)

— summary: finnick loves his favourite victor.

— love you best part two (req, smut)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t exactly like you around other men without him.

CORIOLANUS SNOW

— trapped

— summary: after the 10th hunger games, coriolanus set his sights on a girl from his younger years to be his wife. disgusted by his actions and scared by the rumours your family agreed. as you realise he wasn’t the same boy from before, snow finds himself intrigued, especially when you seem to be visiting a friends house too often.

— delicate*

— summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

— ravage delicate pt 2

— summary: he’d won the election, much to your elation. now you’d have to navigate the fame, fortune and status as the first lady of panem. but coriolanus just wanted you all to himself, and he’d do anything to scare you into his arms.

— safe and sound ft lucy gray baird

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— worth it

summary: coriolanus made the mistake of protecting lucy gray during the bombing, rather than you.

— runaway

summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.

— our little dove ft lucy gray baird

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— late to the party

— summary: after corio was sent away to district 12, your managed to come to terms with the fact that he did not love you by any means. but what happens when he realises he liked that affection? and what happens when you’re already in a relationship?

— brown jewel (req)

— summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

— temper tantrum (req)

— summary: you were the daughter of one of the richest couples of panem. everything you’ve ever wanted, handed to you. coriolanus had a short temper and you were stubborn. who knows what could happen?

— mr president (req)

— summary: mr president seems to be especially enamoured with his favourite maid, you.

— all grown up (smut)

— summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

— charity (req)

— summary: president snow was praised for his love and devotion to his wife, a cripple. if only they knew how you’d ended up that way.

— love you best (req, smut, read as coryo or finnick)

— summary: your boyfriend doesn’t like you around other men without him.

PEETA MELLARK

— sweet like sugar (blurb req)

— summary: peeta teaches you how to bake since you’re nowhere near as good as you thought, not that you’d admit it.

—paranoia (dark req)

— summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.

SEJANUS PLINTH

— coming soon!

LUCY GRAY BAIRD

— safe and sound ft coriolanus snow

— summary: somehow you’d ended up in the games, snow and lucy would do anything to keep you safe.

— destined

— summary: you and lucy enjoy time together at the lake.

—our little dove ft coriolanus snow

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

— our little dove alt ending

— summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you.

KATNISS EVERDEEN

— coming soon!

JOHANNA MASON

— underestimate (blurb req)

— summary: johanna learns not to underestimate you.

ANNIE CRESTA

— my people ft finnick odair

TRIBUTE!READER

— coming soon!

(in general, no ship just the reader in the arena, with katniss n peeta etc)

#hunger games x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #katniss everdeen #sejanus x reader #sejanus plinth x reader #dark!lucy gray baird x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #katniss everdeen x reader #johanna mason x reader #dark!finnick odair x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

Note

I have an odd request… perhaps a captain price fic where the reader is much younger and edgy- likeee covered in tats and stuff,, and price isn’t rly used to that but finds it hot as hell… idk maybe they work together ?? Smut ensues …

IDK I have tatts and wonder what he’d think of that 👹👹

Just an idea 💡❤️😫

Fire it Up (John Price x F!Reader)

Word count: 7.8 k

Tags/warnings: Smut 🔞 mutual pining, flirting, swearing, older man/younger woman dynamic, forbidden love, smoking & drinking, voice kink, a tiny brat taming kink squeezed itself in here too. Reader has tattoos and works as a coder at the base. Rough ~10yrs age gap described, reader is of age I hope to god it goes without saying (Price is canonically 37) Also: no use of 'daddy' in this fic

A/N: I'm so glad for this request anon and I hope you like what I made! Also people please be gentle, this is my first Price fic 🥹 God I wish I could attach the fat scent of cigar here to give you the full experience.

You don't know what caught your attention first.

The cigar, perhaps. Or the beard? Might be his hips, the ass that tells you this man can fuck a woman for hours.

Or maybe it's the fact that he's too old for you.

No, not too old…

Just older than you. A decade, perhaps, if you were being gentle with him and lenient with yourself.

He certainly isn't old enough to be your father, but he wasn't the type of man your eyes usually drifted on either.

He looks like someone who's supposed to be fishing in Alaska, sucking that fat cigar while taking in the view of mountains while trying to catch wild fish in some wide, free stream.

He's supposed to come home to a remote cabin: to his little wife who pours him a scotch after he has shown her what he caught today. Make sweet love to her while stars shoot and speckle the indigo night.

He looks like someone who makes love to women.

You, on the other hand, want to ride with him to the sunset on the back of a Harley, clutch his jacket as he drives you to some bizarre highway motel. You want to watch him drink that scotch from your navel.

You'd do all kinds of crazy shit with him, keep his head between your legs with both hands, grind all over that mustache, and see how wet it gets. You want him to pound you with those narrow hips, take you from behind while you look back with parted, swollen lips and relish the sight of what must be a grown man's hardened body, covered with hair and scars and–

"The bug's still there."

You return to reality, look at the code on your screen, and then at your colleague, a 20-something bloke who looks at you with the lethargic stare that only belongs to techies. You've just been caught daydreaming your eyes off in the middle of a lazy afternoon. Coffee doesn't do shit after 2 PM…

"Yeah I know. I'm working on it," you say. But when the dude leaves, you decide it's time for a creative break. You tell yourself it's only because the code jumps on the screen, not because you hope to catch a certain someone smoking outside.

The leather jacket is a little too much these days, but you throw it on out of pure habit. You realize the weight of your mistake when you go outside from the ventilated building and notice the sweltering heat. Spring has finally turned into summer.

Coffee doesn’t do shit, but it’s time for another kind of wakey-wakey. And butterflies are a funny term for something that mainly feels like it’s eating your insides out of pure excitement.

Because he's here too.

Jonathan Price, although no one calls him Jonathan. Few call him John, either.

Mostly, he goes by the title Captain.

He's stressed; you can tell. But his eyes soften immediately when they fall on you, a brief look to the side, just to know who else comes out to have a breath of fresh air or a smoke. He looks like he's been expecting you, but that might only be a silly girl's daydream. You two share a vice, and you've never been more grateful for your bad habit before this place and him.

And you wouldn't call it necessarily a bad habit. It's simply stress relief if you do it once or twice every few weeks. It's not like you smoke two packs a day. It's not like you even smoke one cig per day.

Although ever since you started this odd little job in this odd little place, you've smoked one or two nearly every day… And it's not because of the stress.

It's because of Price.

John. You’d like to see his reaction to you moaning that word in his ear…

"How long have you been here?"

His eyes are still on you, mouth covered by a hand as he makes love to his cigar. And that bedroom voice always gets you. It's better than the upcoming slow drag of nicotine. You're not here for tobacco at all.

"Two weeks." You reach for your excuse and try to prevent your hands from trembling as you light the cig. Usually, you're not this shy with people. Not with men, anyway. But with him, your wits and words disappear.

You blow the smoke through the air with a quick, lively wisp where he lets it roll out his tongue in a heavy cloud. He's still watching you as if to weigh what kind of woman you are exactly.

"How about you?" You continue the small talk with nervous ease.

He chuckles; the little smile even shows a flash of teeth as he steals a look at the clouds, calculating years with those surprisingly lively eyebrows curled up toward the sky.

"Ages."

He's not that old. Perhaps well over his thirties, might be knocking his forties. The statement is merely an underline of his stress today. You can only wonder what kind of pressure the captain of Task Force 141 is under when you get sleepless nights from a stupid source code. There are a few wrinkles around his eyes, but they only tell you that this man smiles a lot. He might be the only one in this compound who smiles a lot.

"Have you ever tried a cigar?"

There's a glint in his eyes as he offers the thick roll of tobacco to you. It's suddenly difficult to breathe, difficult to even keep your thoughts together.

"No," you shake your head as if your answer wasn't enough to tell him he's the first person ever to offer you such a thing. Then you realize the word does not precisely deliver your eagerness to try that stout cigar.

"Would love to," you hurry to add with a soft smile. "Can I have a taste?"

He walks to you slowly, and your eyes drop to those hips, which sway like he's purposely trying to seduce you.

Fu–ck…

Then your eyes sink even lower, between his legs, to his fucking junk, and it's too fucking late–

Jesus–get your shit together…

You force your eyes back to his and see the little glimmer in them gain a surprised spark – you're totally caught red-handed on checking him out.

Fuck. How can you be so stu–

"Gently then, kid."

You swallow your heart and thoughts down and take the offered cigar; of course, your first thought is how thick and heavy it is. And somehow, you decide right then and there that you will no longer be the nervous, hot-cheeked woman on the corner.

It's time to make him flustered.

So you take a hollow-cheeked, slow suck on the fat cigar. A chaste, savory taste, more like, but there's nothing chaste in the way you raise your eyes to his, putting every ounce of soft seduction in that stare.

He draws breath slowly – his face is full of expression for an allegedly cold-hearted elite soldier. You don't know how often women flirt with this hunk of a man, but he sure looks taken aback by your sudden play. Probably thinks you're too young for him – and you curse the second time you put that jacket on. You want to see his reaction to your sleeves.

"Mm. It's thicker than I thought," you weigh the cigar between your fingertips and let the smoke roll out your mouth. The man switches his weight from one foot to another, speechless, and you suppress a big beam of a smile.

"The taste," you emphasize as if innocent, as if you didn't see that shocked little shift. "Round, and… god, it's almost sweet."

You smile as you give it back, and he chuffs an approving laugh through his nose – those eyes are bear-warm playful now, his mouth curves into an easy smile.

"Nice," you look him up and down as if you're talking about the man and not the cigar.

"Beats those little sticks."

His voice drops down a few notes; it's almost a husky growl. You barely make out the words he's saying. The tension in the air could form little balls of lightning around you, the flirt is over the roof, and there's even no roof because you're outside – and you take your jacket off, slowly, to make it clear it's summer and not spring.

His eyes fall on the ink immediately, and he blinks a few times, draws some more breath – you tweet your thanks accompanied by another smile and go back inside.

You know he's checking your ass in those black jeans as you walk away.

….....

It doesn't end there.

You see him again and again and again, and at some point you realize he has to walk almost 100 meters from the other end of the base to get to the little corner where the two of you smoke.

He's intrigued but decent. Holds a distance, never says anything that could be taken in the wrong way – or even in the right way. But he's fucking you with his eyes.

No… making love to you.

And it drives you crazy.

You don't want that. You don't need that. To be that little wife in the cabin. Pouring him a drink, climbing in his lap, ghosting a finger down the stubble on his chin, see how wide and proud it makes him smile to hold you like you're his and his alone...

God. When did it come to this?

You suck on his fat cigar every now and then. Look him in the eyes while you do it. Once, it makes his tongue dart out, it wets his bottom lip, and then he does that thing with his mouth... the thing where he kind of purses his lips and it makes the mustache dip, and you realize, you learn it's a sign that he's restless, he's flustered.

You make the big, burly captain of Task Force 141 flustered.

And he doesn't smell like the people inside smell. Of stale coder sweat and Joy Division and soft drinks and mommy's home-cooked meals. He smells of rich forest and fine bourbon and half-burnt gasoline. Maybe Saxon on vinyl. Definitely beats those little sticks that are your nerdy co-workers at the hacker department, as you call it.

He may have a flask somewhere; perhaps he takes a sip or two every now and then, whether at work or not. And you don't blame him. Even with those laugh lines and that brown bear benevolence, you can tell he's seen things.

You wonder what he's like out there in the field. Brutal? Or just efficient?

He never asks about your tattoos, but he eyes them often. There's a certain admiring esteem in his stare. He's checking you out, scratches his chin, and rips his eyes off when they start to drift down. He forces his eyes to stay above your neckline no matter the cost. You mourn that you got rid of the septum a few years ago: you're pretty sure he would've liked that, too. After all, it's a piercing that screams 'warrior' the most. Break after break, you return to your desk, aroused and giddy and surrounded by the rich, masculine aroma of his cigar.

One night, he drives by when you're walking home after what was supposed to be one or two pints.

The car is a big, black pick-up, and when it slows down and starts to inch by your side, your first reaction is a silent curse of why the fuck don't you carry some pepper spray in your pocket.

"Hey, you ok?"

Your head rises from the asphalt the second you recognize that smooth, pleasant voice of a man you had compared every guy to at the pub that evening. The whole man is brimming with burnt sienna, he's hard alcohol with no ice…

You stop and turn, a little wobbly from the pint turned to two or three. Or four.

"Yeah. Had a little girl's night out."

The car rumbles softly, not two meters away, and the sound reminds you of his voice. A soft purr that can turn into a growl, even a roar if he wants to.

He looks like he's going fishing, even without the boonie hat. The dark hair is cut short, so you won't have anything to tug if he ever ends up between your legs. But you don't really mourn that fact, because he looks so damn good.

He looks you up and down, and you notice the briefest blob of his Adam's apple before he gives you another offer.

"Want me to give you a ride?"

Would love a ride.

Would fucking love to ride you.

"Sure. That's kind of you."

Your eyes must be sparkling like the fucking stars.

"No problem at all," he leans his elbow on the open window and waits while you round the car and get in. You try to tone down your drunken state, but your moves are a little too brash for a calm and collected coder lady this man has usually caught leaning against the wall of the workplace you two share.

"Did you have fun?"

He sounds like a dad picking up his girl from a school disco, and you purse your lips in slight distaste and amusement.

"Yeah. You know how it is when someone asks you for a pint."

He gives a short laugh and starts to drive. "That never ends well."

You smile and turn to look at him.

"Mm… This one kinda did."

You enjoy the brief look out the window, the sight of someone so formidable and robust and experienced trying to find his way out by feigning something caught his attention in the black, empty distance of a quiet city.

"Glad I could be of service," he brushes off your flirt like it's nothing more than a speckle of dust on his coat.

The rest of the ride is silent, too silent. He turns the music off in case it "bothers you," and it turns into an awkward, overly polite fight about whether to keep it on or not.

It's a minor shock to notice he was listening to some classical. Not 80's rock, not country, not even BBC. He was just soothing his nerves.

You can't put your finger on what makes you feel so sheepish around this man – usually, you put men on a leash with a few dry jokes and a hearty laugh or two. Now, your flirting is shy and does nothing: there's a wall built up, and from behind that wall, only a few stolen looks…

The pick-up is humming, the engine is running at idle next to your place far too soon, and it's time you get off the car – but you have vehemently decided you will knock down that fucking wall even if you have to drag him to your bed.

"You wanna come up and have a nightcap?"

Another look out the window as he raises his hand over his mouth, fiddles with his mustache, and avoids the rising heat between you two.

"Thanks, kid. But you need to sleep."

Your heart is pumping, and you feel like a harasser as you place your hand on his thigh.

He doesn't move, but you can hear the audible swallow this time. He doesn't move a single finger even when you slide your palm down that leg, then drag it over to the inner thigh, and start to drift back up slowly, slowly, to give him the time and space to stop you before you reach….

….the visible bulge between those legs, the absolutely gorgeous, ample bump pulling at those pants, something so delicious that you must fight tooth and nail not to race your hand up there and give it a fond grope.

His hand falls over yours just before you reach it.

"Kid. Let's leave it here and call it a night."

His voice is strained and tight, and he's still looking out the window. You don't move your hand away because he doesn't move it away. His warmth stays there, keeping you against him, and you feel like shit for thinking it's not a no… That it's a yes when he seems to hold your hand as a prisoner, wanting to feel your dainty little palm against him.

Your fingers curl slightly, a hopeful gesture to imagine how it would feel to curl and claw at his hips and that ass while he's fucking you.

"Listen. You're a nice girl. A very nice–"

You give a heavy, demonstrative sigh and finally draw your hand away.

"Come on Cap… You're seriously going to give me the "you're a nice girl" talk?"

Finally, he turns. His nostrils quiver as he tries to keep his breaths calm. Your lips part like it's a whole caress he just gave you – and his gaze drops to your mouth instantly. You start to see where the problem is.

You're too young.

You're forbidden.

"I offered you a nightcap," you tilt your head slightly. "You can come up or you can go home."

You wet your lips, give the bottom lip a tiny little bite, and offer him the last, inviting, soft smile. It must hold an equal amount of sorrow because you can't drown the bitter feeling of rejection, no matter how many drinks you've had that night. No matter how much he seems to want you, it doesn't change the fact that he's apparently decided to stay strong and keep his hands off the cookie jar.

You turn and get out of the car, lean on the door for the final fucking time...

"Didn't know I'd only get to suck your cigar... You're all smoke and no fire, Price."

The door flies closed with a louder slam than you originally meant.

Now that was a little bit passive-aggressive, you have to admit. But you're drunk, and he's being a pain in the ass, calling you a kid, looking at you like that, having a fucking hard-on and giving you nothing.

…But it does the trick.

You smile like an idiot when you walk to your place and hear the purr of the engine stop. Another car door opens, then closes, wide footsteps follow you…

A nightcap it is, then.

He looks even bigger when inside a place with walls and a roof. He stands inside your apartment tall and wide as if he's waiting to call attention. Those large hands are over his crotch, concealing the swell of erection you already saw in the car.

You know the tank top you wear reveals even more skin covered in tats as you throw your jacket away and go get him that drink. The glasses glide on your table, slide nearly to the floor, and the bottle of Jim Beam meets the counter with a devastating clank. You look at the excuse to get him into your place and sigh.

"You know what… Fuck this."

Offering cheap bourbon to someone like him seems a bit ridiculous. So you offer him something he might actually like. Something he actually came here for.

You walk to him and throw your hands around him – he stiffens from the middle but looks down at you with a heated glimmer in those eyes. You could've sworn they were charred brown, the same color as his cigar, but up close you see they're actually molten iron. Mercurial.

"You sure about this?" He asks softly.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He unclasps those hands from over his groin, and the warmest weight falls to rest on your waist, even steals a caress to your hip. You want to hurl yourself at him, press yourself against his crotch and grind until you bleed from just that tiny touch he finally gives you.

"You've had one too many, love."

Love…

Shit.

The warmth spreads from his eyes, from that hand, from the word that rolls out of his mouth like a beautiful puff of smoke. It unfurls inside your heart, swells inside your throat, plummets to your groin, and you switch the weight to your other leg to feel how that hand gains more weight as it gets pressed more firmly against you.

"Doesn't change the fact that I want you."

Your voice is nothing short of a purr. When have you ever purred like that to a man? You sound like a housecat, tame and adoring, waiting for a gourmet meal.

"You really want an old man?"

He still has that reserve in his eyes, decent and distant, but underneath, you sense a terrible heat, like the glow of a cigar lit in darkness, an adamant smolder that never dies out.

"You're not that old."

Your purr turns into a deprived meow. You dangle from his neck, and the smoke, the fire that surrounds him, blends into the gentle scent of a man, the musk of a mature beast. You know he's hairy under those clothes; he fucking has to be. The vision of how his cock must look, surrounded by untame, coarse fur, has tormented you night after night.

And now he's finally here. In your apartment.

You skate your hands over his chest while slowly dropping into a squat, then languidly kneeling in front of his crotch.

He doesn't stop you, not even when you open his belt and the zipper and crawl your fingers down the waistband of his underwear. You have to stifle a delighted gasp upon seeing how his cock springs free and stands proud in front of you in all its glory. And fuck yes he's hairy – the hairiest man you've ever had.

Cigars feel like tiny little sticks when you wrap one hand around him and lick the weeping slit like it's your favorite ice cream. The groan that follows is a husky eruption above you and gets stuck in his throat as you take him in your mouth.

"Fucking hell, kid…"

He's thick, broad, and the musk fills your nostrils, but what he just said makes you pull back and whisper on the bulbous tip–

"Don't call me a kid," you breathe on his cock, swirl your tongue around him, and his thighs bunch. "Old man."

You finally manage to push some buttons.

The back of his hand brushes your cheek, then slides over to your throat. He's gentle but firm as he forces a thumb under your chin, curls fingers around your neck as if you're a cat who's about to be force-fed some medicine that's only good for her.

"Is that how you wanna play it?"

His thumb brushes down the ridge of your throat. Tentative, promising.

"Perhaps," your lips quiver with anticipation as you smile; your voice is a pitched vibrato before it drops, just to give him a reason to put you in your place... "Old gum–"

The hand pulls up, the grip tightens just enough to guide you back to your feet and up to meet his face.

"Didn't know you asked me here to tame a brat."

Fuck…

You almost moan.

The hand doesn't choke you; it makes love to you. Claims you as his.

"Really…?" You sigh. Flash him a filthy, guiltless smile.

The fire surges forth and nearly buckles your knees. His eyes flash in rhythm with your grin, like a sudden flicker of a campfire in the middle of a dark, parched forest.

"This what you want? Hmm?"

The rumble reminds you of the engine of a Harley roaring to life. His throat is burned from the fire of his cigars, the hand on your throat is used to squeezing dead metal and pulling pins from frigid grenades. But even they can't stand a chance against his woodland fire and sycamore smoke. He could bring a cold, inanimate rock back to life with all that fire.

"Yes. I want it. John."

His name on your tongue is a cat's meow. It has the exact effect you hoped for.

"Let's get the brat tamed, then."

"Hah," you finally moan. "Promises, prom–"

The fingers around your throat pull you to his mouth with a python strength. His lips spread yours with soft devouring as he coats you in fire. The coarse beard smells of sweet tobacco – nothing like a pungent cigarette. It's like an old memory: safe and sturdy and strong. Male.

You moan in his mouth – god, what will it be like when he's inside you? – and he capes both arms around you and crushes you against him. Broad shoulders envelop you like a shroud of thick smoke, the cock gets trapped between you like a hot spear, and you mewl like a slut.

Your pussy clenches, just from his warm mouth, the rich velvet of his lips. He takes everything with that kiss, and you're weak in his arms as he bends and molds you against him just the way he wants, opens your mouth with his own and breathes you, samples you like those puffs of smoke he sucks from his cigar.

Your brain short-circuits, you barely notice how your top slides up as his hands go under it. It's dragged up, up, over your breasts and then over your head as he detaches just enough to rip that piece of clothing away.

You look at him like he's Christmas, then reach for your bra while he opens his pants more to get them down. Your jeans are accursedly tight, and he's breathless, too: the whole room is dark and filled with heavy breathing and rustle of clothes as you claw your socks off, slide your strings down and away, watch him get out of his shirt and throw it on the floor too, all propriety gone.

And then…

Jesusfuck–

He picks you up, lifts you from the ground like you're nothing but a leaf, and strides with you in his lap until your back meets a wall.

The barrel-like chest presses the air out of your lungs while your back travels up – you don't know if his arms or chest do the lifting, but you're being positioned for his cock to enter. Your hands try to grasp something solid before it's too late – his back and neck – your legs wrap around him, feet hooking over his ass as the thick of his tip pokes your soaked folds, and after a few seconds of probing, slides in.

"F–uck…" you gasp, sounding so needy that it could be a voiceline from a bad porno movie. His lips find the place between your ear and neck immediately.

"Be good for me now," he gruffs, dark and round like the sweetest bourbon, although you know he's the finest single malt in the world. "Be good…"

"Ah–John…"

I'll be good…

Just for you, I'll be so, so good.

He pants heavy on your neck, grunts as he starts to fuck you against that wall. You knew he might be intense, but apparently, you had no idea. The man is needy as fuck, and has concealed it up until this point.

You could cry, scream from joy from the thickness that spreads you, fills you with every fat glide of a thrust. The sex borders on rough but is so incredibly tender too, so needy it makes your heart collapse, compress into a taut knot in your chest. It's the softest rocking, the gentlest fucking as he retreats, then ruts into you again and again with sharp, rusty moans. You're in a slow but steady rodeo with this man, your breasts pressed against a solid chest covered with hair, and it tickles, even if his pecs threaten to crush your ribcage.

"You're one hell of a girl," he gruffs in your ear, beard grazing up and down your neck. "Taking me so– Fucking hell, look at you…"

His eyes are embers as they sweep over you: your abundant ink, the helpless, adoring look in your eyes, the little mouth that opens with a gasp, the trickle of sweat that forms between your breasts and meets the hair on his chest.

He doesn't have to look down to see how greedy your cunt is for him. He can feel it.

"This is what you wanted the whole time? Huh?"

He's all smoke. All fire.

"Yes…"

"Wanted me to take you against a fucking wall? Eh?"

"Yes…just, just take me," you moan and purr some more, giving him everything he wants. "Fuh–fuck me good…"

"Ahh shit..."

You know you're a drug to certain decent men. But to him, you're a forbidden fruit in all its aspects.

A calm, collected captain who enjoys wide respect, eyeing an edgy, younger woman from the tech department? That's not how this was supposed to go. Thirsting for someone who did what they wanted, looked just the way they wanted, walked this earth like a dark fairy – that's not his usual go, surely. He was supposed to settle down with a proper lady. If he were to settle down at all.

"I've dreamed of this," you whisper in his ear, lips moving just enough to deliver your secret to him.

"Yeah..? Me too," he gives your throat more love with a velvet growl. "Know I shouldn't, but–"

"Shh. Don't–don't…" You grip him tighter, taste the spruce and salt as you breathe his neck. "It's good. It's all good."

He rumbles in approval. Your skin is raw from his beard; even the coarse hair dusting his thighs feels too rough on your skin. And your skin is used to being needled, shot full of ink right inside the dermis. But this… This is branding.

You're silk in his rough embrace, and plundered with no remorse. You sigh and moan, hug him... And then he dares to stop, panting and throbbing inside you.

"Darlin'. Where's the bed?"

The soft question makes you panic. If you go to bed and let him push inside you while you're lying on your back, if you brave a look into those eyes while he takes you, you'll develop more than just a horrid lust for this man. If he collapses on top of you, spent and spoiled while you're at your most vulnerable, you'll tie a string from your heart to his, and you can't, you just can't allow that to happen.

Because he's untamed too. He's not a man who settles down, he's not up for domestication; he's a wandering fire.

"No–no bed," you pant on his muscles, the shoulder that keeps you safely pinned on the wall. "John…? Please."

He's breathing wild too, disguises his surprise well.

"Alright."

He sounds disappointed, and it's not because he doesn't have the strength to maul you against that wall. The rejection stings him too. It makes you want to offer a truce, a little something. When he rocks you again, you graze your fingers up the back of his neck, knowing he will feel ripples across his scalp from your caress.

"We can smoke a cigar after," you propose, not knowing why your voice still comes out as an airy whisper. "Together. I'll pour you that drink…"

His chest swells with a deep breath, he huffs fire on the hollow trench between your collarbones.

"Fuck, woman…"

It's dense syrup that surrounds you much like those shoulders and arms, that coarse hair, that bold male want.

"And after that I want you to…" You catch your breath and sound like a mouse with your next shy question. "Would you go down on me, John?"

It's like you're under a bear attack, but he stills; his head tilts a little to the side and meets your temple.

"You wouldn't tease a man like this," he says. A soft warning, brimstone coated in velour, but the core of it is despair. So much need, so much forbidden, distant want…

"Right? No more teasing."

He's still thinking that you're teasing him… That it's some kind of a joke that you want him.

"I'm serious... I want your mouth on me. I need your–"

"I'll put my mouth on you as soon as we're done here, love."

You have to bite your lips, suck them between your teeth to prevent another deprived moan from escaping.

"Want you to fuck me all night," you continue to whisper on his neck. You should shut the fuck up because it doesn't take a bed to tie that string from your heart to his. After all, they're right there, beating against each other through bone and skin and chest.

"Yeah? That's what you want?"

"Want you to… F-fuck me slow and good from behind and–"

You sniff. Whimper.

You should be ashamed: mewling for more when he's already buried inside you. What kind of a brat are you, wrapping your thighs around that narrow waist like you never want him to pull out?

And you're not crying.

It's just that the cock inside you is throbbing against your walls as if he's making a home there, his hands dig into your ass cheeks like you're his already, the breath upon your sweat and skin feels far too affectionate. When exactly did a raw wall-fuck turn into such an affectionate, gentle taste of love?

And it's not enough. You want to climb on top of him every morning, ride him slowly and watch him unravel as the sun climbs the sky and coats that fur in gold.

"Could you do that? Please… John, please," you whimper and whine, beg like you're tame already.

"I'll fuck you all night if that's what you want. Fill this pretty, tight cunt up every way you like."

It's coarse smoke. It caresses you until your legs start to shake. He adjusts his grip, drags the pull-outs like he drags those pulls from his tobacco. Keeps you nicely in place for him to drive back in–

"I'll fuck you 'till you cry, love. Yeah?"

He punctuates that promise with another good, fat thrust. You moan all tame now – a rippling stream, laughing and crying in his molten hold.

His cock fills you while your thighs quiver and tremble in his hands. Your pussy throbs; it sucks him already, the orgasm is seconds away, and your fingertips search for support but only slip over sweaty, hard muscle.

John. John.

"Fuh-…"

He spreads you a little. Those arms are pure iron as they mold you for him to plow. You know he can feel the waves, the way your cunt grips him with longer, deeper pulls as you start to sound downright pathetic.

"Just like that, just like… hah…"

"M-hm. Yeah," he bends the vowels, daubs them with smoke. "That's it. You're doing good. Doing so well my love."

He huffs between the thrusts that have turned into slow, intense love-making. He's making love to you – god, why does he have to be like this…

"Cum for me. Nice and pretty, yeah? Come on."

He encourages you with words, but you can't hear them anymore.

Heat coils in the pit of your core just before you burst with a heady scream.

The spasm is so sudden you almost hit your head on the wall. He's at your throat the minute it's exposed, and your scream turns into a weak wail when his tongue grazes your skin. It's blazing, and dips into the hollow between your collarbones like it's a shot glass full of scotch. Next thing you feel is fire, even some teeth on your neck.

And you thought Price might, just might be intense…

Your head drops as the blunt of the orgasm leaves you. Your feet unclasp, and next up would be some soft waves, but the man continues to fuck your shattered cunt and marshmallow soul with a good, intense pace. The words that pour out of your mouth are those of a brainless person.

"Ah–hah, God–"

"Where's that cheek now, mm..? Pretty little thing."

"John–h…"

The thrusts rub you against that wall like he wants to staple you there.

"So nice and good for me now, ain't ya? Cummin' on command…" An amused chuff right on your poor, chafed skin… "Begging for my mouth and cock."

You travel up and down in a limp heap, trying to hold on to him with weak limbs as he drives into you with a tight series of half-thrusts. Your legs hang loosely on the side, but he has no trouble carrying the full weight of you.

"Slow–slowly, Cap…"

"Ahh fuck–"

He swears on your ink, right on the trotting pulse on your neck. Through the vapor of man sweat and rich smoke and a whiff of cedar trees bending in the wind, you feel him tense and thicken.

"The fucking things you do to me…" he pants with a low growl, hushed but intense. Your pussy answers with a good, demanding pull.

"Fuck… fuck–!"

You're a limp doll between him and the wall when he comes. Pressed between a rock and a hard place, literally. His chest being the rock, an entire boulder that whips the oxygen from your lungs as he drives deep, his balls giving a few taut pulls against your ass as he empties himself into you with a satisfied, dry moan. A dark, ripe blossom, shooting straight to your core while you're sealed tight around him.

The world goes still after that; the only thing that moves is your breath and his, a refreshing hot breeze coursing through the stale air. The darkness of the room isn't half as snug as the safety of his arms.

Your fingers find his neck, the short-cut hair and the skin pounding with a rush of blood. He lets you go reluctantly, bends a little to set your feet back to the solid ground. He doesn't pull out, keeps huffing all over you even when you're returned back to the earth.

And you never want to come back. Your cunt still throbs around him and cries a tiny, thick stream down your thigh. His upper body still pins you against that wall, his breaths still mist your skin, caress the red burns of his beard.

He feels so good. Too good…

When he pulls out, he does so with intense care. He gives you some space to catch your breath, and you finally notice he has fucked your legs into splinters.

"I'm…" You break the hush of heavy breathing with a soft laugh. More viscous load pushes out of you with it. "I don't think I can stand."

"Yeah? Tried to take you to bed," he muses softly, sounding annoyingly content with his achievements.

"Gotta admit it was a good idea."

"As was the nightcap," he rasps, voice drenched in soft smoke.

"We'll get there eventually."

"I have no doubt about that."

You give him a soft, warm chuckle as you cast your eyes between the crest of his pecs. Rough, tight muscle meets your soft breasts with heaving breaths, and teases your nipples to taut little points. The wet hair on his chest looks good paired with your inked, smooth skin… You two look so goddamn fine together.

"I hope I didn't make you deaf with that scream."

He stands at his full height, but tilts his head down and slightly to the side as if you were a new, interesting species he's just found on his travels.

"Wouldn't complain, love," he says. More wet syrup, just for you. He weighs you with his stare, curious and appeased, and you feel shy. For fuck's sake, you still feel shy even though this man was inside you just a moment ago.

"The bed. Now be a good girl and tell me where it is."

"Down the…hallway."

A delicate little whisper, again.

It's laughable, how the veteran of Task Force 141 turns you into something so dainty and meek. Captain John Price takes you against a wall like you're nothing but a doll, makes you purr and beg, reassembles you into a weak-willed woman who gets carried to bed.

This is not how it was supposed to go...

He lifts you back in his lap while you continue to hold onto him like he's your prince Charming. A laugh spills on your lips when he tries to lay you gently on the bed and you manage to pull him down with you. You end up tumbling there in a sweaty, messy heap.

"Knew you were trouble," he's smiling too as he settles beside you. You curl and wrap yourself around him, your bodies mold and curve together like they're made for each other.

He's so solid, so warm, the kind of man you'd love to fall asleep on every night. No more cold sides of the pillow, no more tossing and turning and trying to get the code out of your head. Just… this chest, those ember eyes burning in the night. Some soft breathing, a roaring engine standing still, waiting for you, just for you…

"I hope this wasn't a one time only occasion," you test the waters.

"No." He shifts a little, disentangles from you slightly. "Unless you–"

"No."

You bend in his arms like a young willow, cut his doubts off with a kiss. It's passionate, and so sloppy it threatens to make the same sounds as your cunt and his cock a while ago.

The hand on your hip tows you closer, then steals its way down your leg. You hike your thigh up, perfectly willing. You're a sticky mess, but so is he: his rock-hard thigh meets your still soaked pussy like these two have always belonged together. And this man's full fire has escaped you until now. There are so many hidden, wild things in him too.

He would look so good on a Harley… He would look good on a motel bed after riding for days and days with you attached to him like an eloped dark bride. The nights would be smeared with hot sex and cinder and smoke, a dash of scotch on top, he could drink it from your lips. You would serve it to him from your mouth, round the taste a bit so that it wouldn't burn so much…

"Have you ever been to Alaska?"

The liquor is leaving you, but you don't feel any more sober. The lava in your veins has only been replaced by another kind of fire.

"No."

"Would you like to go?"

"What'ya mean," he murmurs on your tongue, and you know he's hard again just from the thick lust coating his voice. "What kind of question is that?"

"I was just thinking."

"What were you thinkin', kid..?"

"Don't… call me that," you laugh. In truth, you're growing quite fond of it. It reminds you of old movies. "Here's looking at you, kid" and all that.

His laugh is a charred roll in his chest. To him, you're a brat – an unruly kitten – no matter what you say.

"Kid. Why Alaska?"

He's curious. Borderline hooked. You steal a peek into those vulcan eyes.

"You'd look good in Alaska. Old man."

"Really," he rumbles a soft purr against your heart.

Another soft kiss follows. Affectionate… He plays time, but he's also a probing, scanning. You bloom in his embrace, unfurl on his lips like he just wrenched you wide. He could haul you to the cabin right now and you would only cook him dinner.

It's too late, even if you try to shift after such a kiss. Escape to press your cheek against that place between his pecs, the spot where the hair is darkest and thickest. You want to lick that valley where his heart meets his musk. That scent must be born from a good, stout heart.

"Would you take me with you…? If you ever decide to go."

It's a fragile question. A baring of the heart. It holds so much more than an inquiry about whether he would whisk you away on a secret leave. It's strings, pulling from your heart to his, taking root.

"Sure. But you're quite a handful, love."

"Is that so…?"

You crawl over him as gracefully as you can. He allows you to straddle him, and of course he does. You're no threat; you're only a one woman show. The only thing he's probably missing right now is a glass of scotch and a thick roll of tobacco.

He takes in the view with hunger: not satiated by that pent-up fuck, just like you're not...

But then his hands come to rest on your thighs to check if they're still shaking. The touch bleeds possessiveness: it's a thoroughly absent-minded, instinctual attempt to reach for you. It tells you you're exactly where you belong.

"You seem like the kind of woman who's not for the faint of heart," he says like you didn't just mewl in his arms like the tamest fucking housecat.

And perhaps that's what intrigues him. Contrasts. And even more than that, the odd place where black fuses into white, the gray area where everything is possible. The split-second moment when the skin accepts the ink and traps it in.

Everyone always says you get buried with your tattoos. That you should think twice before staining your skin with such permanent hookups.

But the thing is, you get addicted to it. It's like standing on the edge of a cliff before a bungee jump. You know you'll never be the same person after you jump, and you know you can't leave that cliff without jumping. It's a stalemate until you clear your mind of doubt and just plunge.

And you don't want to leave this earth without getting stained and sweaty, without dipping your soul into the full experience. You're supposed to get a little dirty. This is Earth, after all.

Your fingers disappear somewhere in his slick fur. Sunrise is hours away, but his eyes spark aflame. They're always, always smoldering like the butt of his cigar. He's a man who causes wildfires at the end of the world – he's a reckoning, a flicker in the dark forest, roaring into a bonfire as soon as the wind passes through the trees.

And you've always loved fire. Wild, and free. The only thing that competes with such freedom is a wide, wild stream.

"But you can handle me. Right?" Your fingers curl softly around the hair surrounding his navel. "Tame me and everything?"

It's an offering that causes even fire to tilt its head in curiosity. In the end, you're not sure who tamed who.

"Someone has to," he grabs your hips with rich promise.

You'll pour him that drink. Light him a cigar after his mouth is full of your taste, see how well it pairs with fire and smoke. You'll toast to the Harley, the crazy motel…

And Alaska.

#john price x you #john price x reader #john price x female reader #captain price x you #price x reader #captain price smut #captain price x reader #john price smut #john price #mw2 smut #captain john price #john price fanfic #cod fanfic

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torukmaktoskxawng · 5 months

Note

Could you please do one where Ronal and Tonowari react to the reader or OC, which ever is more your thing, having lots of battle scars from the war in the first movie? 🧁❤️ I love your writing! It’s so awesome to read and I can’t wait for the next part of your Tonowari x Ronal x OC fanfic!

(Stunning, beautiful, elegant. Gifs by @stallislump )

Pairing: Ronal/Reader/Tonowari

Taglist: @mooniequeen

Warnings: non-gender specific reader, fluff, mentions of war, scars, heavily implied stuff (nsfw? idk, but I'd read this at work)

Na'vi Words: ikran - mountain banshee, olo'eyktan - male clan leader, tsahik - spiritual clan leader, kelku - house/home

A/N: This is short but sweet. I hope you like it! (Note: Stand alone! Not a part of the tsamsiyu ta'em series)

~~~~~~~~~

They had noticed your scars the first day they met you, a Na'vi flying in on an ikran alongside the gunship Jakesully had radioed in to help Young Kiri. They knew Sky People were coming, but they weren't expecting you.

The Metkayina have heard many stories about the clans that came together under Toruk Makto's leadership. Even from as far as the reef, the Na'vi heard about the war with the Sky People and the casualties left behind. Such war and casualties were shown on your skin, displayed like a story. Long, thin, cut-like marks ran up and down your legs and part of your torso, while small, circular scars riddled your right shoulder and chest. The skin that healed over your wounds was a pale blue compared to the rest of your skin and stripes. When Toruk Makto introduced you to the olo'eyktan and tsahik of the Metkayina, they couldn't take their eyes off of you.

Your style and the colors of your attire were not of Omatikaya. Tonowari and Ronal later learn that you were originally from the Tayrangi clan but stayed with the Omatikaya after the war. As they got to know you, they learned that your family members were great warriors but had tragically died in the battle of the Hallelujah Mountains. After their deaths, you saw no reason to return home with your clan and made a life for yourself in the forests with Toruk Makto's clan.

Considering you as an entrusted friend and ally, Jake had asked you to stay in Awa'atlu for a little while so he would feel more secure and able to protect his family. And while you stayed among the Metkayina, both Tonowari and Ronal grew closer to you and wished to learn more about you and your stories... specifically the story behind your scars.

Originally, you didn't feel inclined to share the story, simply stating that you earned your scars in the battle against the Sky People. However, as you grew closer to the Metkayina clan leaders, you began to let yourself be more open and vulnerable toward them, which is where you find yourself sitting with the pair, alone in their kelku. It was a late night and their children were out with the Sully children to show them the beauty of night fishing.

It was Tonowari who boldly reached his hand out and gently grazed a scar on your shoulder, his thumb tenderly pressing into the raised, circular mark. "Who did this to you?"

"The Sky People," you found yourself saying without hesitance, "I fell off my ikran and survived," you originally pointed to the long, thin scars you earned from falling and crashing, then you moved onto the rounded scars around your shoulder, "These scars are from their weapons made of metal. They call them guns and bullets. Any closer and they would have pierced my heart."

Neither of the clan leaders looked pleased by that statement, and Ronal took her husband's boldness a step further. The tsahik leaned down and placed a chaste kiss over a bullet-shaped scar that was located near your collar, her warm lips leaving behind a tingle underneath your skin when she pulled away.

The look she gave you sent your heart racing, her gaze heated and foggy as she stared at you through her lashes, "Thank the Great Mother that they didn't."

One thing led to another and you found yourself in the pair's undivided attention all throughout the night, together learning where each and every one of your scars were located on your body. While you weren't necessarily self-conscious about the scars (you were mostly proud and showed them off as proof that you survived and won a war), you had begun shying away from their touch whenever they got too close to any specific markings. But over time, throughout the night, you began to relax and feel safe, allowing the two Reef Na'vi to explore you in ways you've never felt before.

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

#tonowari x reader x ronal #ronal x reader x tonowari #tonowari x reader #ronal x tonowari x reader #tonowari x ronal x reader #ronal x reader #tonowari #ronal #ronal avatar #tonowari avatar #atwow imagine #atwow x reader #atwow #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water

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reverie-verse · 11 months

Text

Ooops Mating Bond - Azriel x Reader

Prompt: The time you accepted the mating bond by force feeding your mate who hadn’t eaten all day. Your a younger than Tarquin so like 40. You’re a chef for the inner circle.

Yoo so this is my first time writing an Acotar fic, ummmm also Az is my favorite right now so don’t judge. Umm I hope you enjoy it!

Also fluff❤️ lemme know if you want more! Ps I promise in the future I will grammar check okay, cuz this ish is so getting out of hand 😭😭😭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you first joined the inner circle it was Mor, Cassian and Nesta who had found you. You were just a plain old fisher woman, you would go out on your little boat in the early mornings (mostly) to catch as many fish you could. You’d sell them to the other restaurants. You’d take whatever earnings you’d receive and hit the market. You’d buy various Ingredients for various dishes. In the time between you would take a nap before you prepared your dishes. Later in the evening you’d wake up and begin preparing different meals and pack them. It would be nearing toward the later part of the night. You’d pack your food cart and push it towards the direction of Rita’s. The night life there was always vibrant. You figured a change in crowd might be more beneficial to you.

There you stood with your cart and all, food hot and ready to be eaten. Mor had stumbled out of the club with Amren, Varian, and Azriel. They had been giggling to no end with smiles on their faces and twinkles in their eyes. Mor was the one who had rushed to your cart when she had smelt the variety of foods. She was more than delighted to pay for the entire cart of food. Amren complained that it was too much until she had tasted your food. Then she argued with Mor even though she particularly didn’t enjoy food about getting half the cart. Varian only laughed at his lover while Mor very seriously attempted to pull out money to pay for the entire cart. Azriel on the other hand had remained quiet. He watched you with careful eyes assessing you, and the cart. He had found it odd that he had never seen you before anywhere in Velaris. The fact that you had parked your cart out and near Rita’s. He had no reasons to truly believe you were to cause any harm.

Azriels face remained stoic and brooding but as a shadow singer and one of the most fear Illyrian spy you only smiled and offered him a pastry and some savory food. The Shadowsinger was taken back, everyone was so afraid of him he hadn’t expected you to outright smile at him. He reached into his pocket to fish out his money, his sapphiron's flickered in the street light. You moved your hand over the cart stoping his.

“ It’s on the house-”

He looked at you as if you spoke another language and you continued grinning. “ -For now. But when you come back I’ll charge you and your crew. Shadow man-.” You watched as he bit into the food. His whole body sagged at the taste of the food. It was rather comforting and it certainly hit the spot. You had packed the food into containers as you handed them to Azriel who was quietly enjoying his food. Mor and Amren had squealed with joy as Varian helped the struggling eater with the containers. You had closed up shop heading on your way home. Sure you had made money that night but it was worth it watching them express happiness over the food they had consumed.

It was like that for weeks and each time they had paid for the entire cart. With each passing day a new member of the inner circle would visit the cart along with your returning customers. At one point Feyre had asked why Mor, why everyone was so invested in a small food stand. To which she only replied “ The food is divine” So Feyre went and tried it with her friends and family. Needless to say she immediately demanded Rhysand to offer you a job to work for them. Whether it was at the River House, the Town House or the House of Wind. Rhys agreed without a second thought everyone was overjoyed that their favorite person would be joining them.

The High Lord and Lady appeared on your boat offering you a job which you gladly accepted. Months later you found yourself working in all three houses cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner. You enjoyed your job more than anything in the world. The best part was that you got to live there and a person who lingered in the shadows…. Traveling became much easier. Though it was horrible when you had to walk up those ten thousand steps with groceries. When you reached the top Azriel was quick to help you with the groceries it was a coincidence he had gotten there the same time you did. Thankfully that only happened one time. That was the only night the inner circle had no dinner and everyone was mad at those stairs because of it. This time around everyone had decided to stay at the River house.

You smiled at the memory as you finished today's breakfast having Nuala and Cerridwen place the dishes on the table. You began working on lunch for the day. You could hear the inner circle chatting at the table eating their food. Busy Bodies all of them, you chuckled to yourself. You waited though for a voice in particular one that was always brooding in the dark corner, with flying globs of shadows. Speaking of shadows one in particular found a safe place to rest as it wraps itself around your wrist. You looked at the shadow and whispered to it “ Where’s your master?” You were definitely joking when you had asked the question. Though the shadow seemed to believe you had meant it. It unravels itself from your wrist in a hot pursuit to find its master. You shake your head as you roll the dough.

After an hour or two everyone had cleared the table and set off to do their duties for the time being before lunch. Even as Nuala and Cerridwen were the maidens of Feyre they stuck close by you. They watched every movement you made and you knew who they reported too. Between them and the shadows you had no idea what to do. Azriel seemed to have kept all eyes on you at all times just as Rhys does with Feyre. The two were far more alike than you’d be willing to admit out loud. You and Azriel were barely mated. It snapped a month ago when he had come home from a mission. It had been a rough one and you both found yourselves together expressing hidden unrequited love amongst other things. However you hadn’t made a meal specifically for him yet.

………………….

You had finished with lunch fairly early helping the twins set the table. You watched as the entire inner circle piled in. Elain sniffs the air gently “ Oh Y/N this smells amazing!” as she settles herself down in a chair. Nesta, not far behind her sister, finds a place to sit and she grins, which was enough said in her case. Cassian right behind Nesta and Mor hot on his heels, he shoves Mor. “I AM STARVING!”

Mor shoves “ You Pig, save some for me!!” She lunges for the table Cassian doing the same. You laugh at the two as they fought for a specific dish they wanted. Feyre and Rhys both emerged making their way to the table.

“ Don’t start fighting, guys there's plenty of food” You laughed at your two friends who were eyeing the same pastry platter but further down the table, within a second both were scrambling for it.

“ Oh wow Y/N I think this is the best spread of food you’ve made” Feyre smiles at you before taking her place at the table. Grabbing her plate and piling on the food. The table had been covered in various fruits, vegetable dishes, sandwiches and meat dishes, even some rice dishes as well. You attempted this time around to try a new pastry dish which was completely devoured by Mor and Cassian. You could see why everyone was so eager to eat it looked good.

“ Thank you, I really appreciate that” You gave her an accomplished smile. You were proud that it looked even though you felt you could’ve done better. This was good for now and everyone had the look of It hit the spot on their faces. So take that overthinking brain.

Rhys turned to you he was about to say something when Amren came barreling into the room, excitement etched on her face. “My favorite time of day!” She too also lunged for the table.

“ Looks like you finally curbed your appetite,” Nesta says from her spot.

Amren glared at Nesta “Even in this fae body, I wouldn’t mind attempting to see if my old appetite still lingers, girl”

Rhys chucked “ Enough Amren eat your lunch Y/N had worked so hard to prepare this exquisite meal for us” Rhys had taken his seat as well gathering food to put on his plate. You took a seat next to Elain taking a rest before heading back to the kitchen. You liked to hear the chatter amongst the group and about how their days were going. You were quiet and just enjoying the simplicity of it. Until your mind wandered to Azriel, who hadn’t been there for breakfast and now lunch.

You felt talons in your mind gently tapping on your shielded mind. You knew it was Rhys by how his mental talons scratched at your mind. Feyre had never done it to you but you assumed that she was a much more gentle experience than Rhys, no offense to him. You let him slip into your mind easily.

“ Why so sad little chef?”

“ Little Chef? Haha, very original old man. Where is he?” You watched as Feyre and Elain talked about her garden in the town house. Cassian slumped back in his chair giving himself a tummy rub. Nesta rolls her eyes at him as he gives her a rather suggestive look. Mor cackled when she noticed the interaction. Amren paid no mind to anyone sneaking more food onto her plate while stealing off of everyone else's.

“ Ouch, old man? Do remind me of who we are talking about again, Little Chef ” You sided eyed Rhys as his shoulders shook slightly from holding in a laugh.

“You play too many games, old man. You know who I am talking about ” You mentally rolled your own eyes, showing him the gesture while also mentally flipping him off.

“ Okay, okay, I do play games. I rather enjoy them. However your ��old man’ of a mate is taking care of business for me.”

“ Feyre was right”

“ About what?”

“ Your all Busy bodies”

“ Hey, you looked like you needed some reassurance. It would be wrong of me to not help a fellow friend”

“ Uh-huh so when will he be back?”

“ He should be back in an hour.”

“ I am so telling Feyre you’re a busy body” By this point you and Rhys locked eyes, both of you continued communicating mentally. Any other person who looked from the outside would have guessed that maybe the two of you were staring each other down to see who would break first.

“ Y/N, that is far from the truth.” Rhys looked away briefly to roll his own eyes at you.

“ It is the truth! You swear you don’t ‘meddle in other people's business’ here you are telling me what I wanna know” You mentally pointed a finger at him as you laughed softly.

“ You looked sad! This is the last time I help you ease your mind” Rhys attempted to defend himself but it was no use, he in fact was a busy body whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Guilty busy body old man”

“ Don’t you have food to make, Little Chef”

“Thanks,”Your eyes lit with humor as you smiled before heading off to the kitchen to prepare dinner and Azriel’s lunch.

“Of course” Dipped his head at you returning that same humorous expression.

………………..

The hour had passed and you had finished making Azriel’s plate and some of the dinner spread. You could feel the buzz of energy that belonged to him. Your bond had begun sharpening itself lately between you two. It hadn’t completely fortified itself just yet and you couldn’t figure out why. This would be the first meal you’d bring just to Azriel, your mind unbeknownst to you had not caught on to what was happening. You weren’t exactly lucky in the learning of mating. Your parents were different. You knew that, and everyone else knew that, so this concept to you was entirely new.

“ Miss?” Nuala called out to you.

“ Yes?” You replied as you fixed a missing piece to his plate before grabbing a glass of water along with it.

“ You’re running behind Miss” Nuala gives you a small smile as she shifts her gaze to the clock. You follow it cursing at yourself grabbing the plate before making your way hastily out the kitchen. Cerridwen had smiled at herself knowing what was about to transpire.

Nuala called out to you again “ Uh Miss he’s in the High lords study”.

“ Oh right, yes Okay, thank you! I will be back to help with the rest of the dinner!” You called out as you left the kitchen.

“ Should we warn her?” Cerridwen giggled. Cerridwen couldn’t help but be happy for the pair. Azriel deserved to be loved just as the rest of the group is.

“ No, let the happy couple be,” Nuala replied, continuing her work as well. Azriel deserved to be loved just as the rest of the group is. Nuala looked to her sister as they both shared a giddy giggle of happiness.

You had followed Nuala’s advice practically running down the halls to get to Azriel. You knew he had to be starving; there was no way he would not be hungry. You hadn’t realized what was happening when you entered the room. All three bat boys had been in a meeting which was abruptly stopped by you. You didn’t seem to notice as your feet carried you to Azriel. Azriel noticed the plate in your hands. His face is tinting a shade of pink. Now was definitely not the time to be giving him food. Cassian and Rhys both coughed, finding everything else in the room rather interesting.

“ Y/N now isn’t the best time for-“ Azriel started, though you cut him off quickly.

“ You didn’t eat breakfast or lunch so I made you some food.” You hand him the plate expecting him to eat it. Azriel cleared his throat nervously, he didn’t even attempt to eat it. Though his stomach growled and he so badly wanted to eat it. He also so badly wanted to have you to himself and his way with you but he couldn’t not even during an important meeting with his high lord and his general. Fuuuuccckk. He mentally groaned. This could not have happened at a far worse time than right now. He loved your innocence in all this but it was his fault he should’ve warned you.

“I understand but-“ He started again as he tried to find the words to tell you that this was extremely bad timing. You were not taking a no for an answer, the other two males had not moved fast enough to stop you either. You had shoved a piece of food in Azriel’s mouth. His eyes widened, he was shocked that you forced him to eat. Azriel made no more to chew, or swallow or make any sudden movements. Once he inhales the food it was game over for everyone including you.

“ You better chew it Az, and swallow it. You haven’t eaten a damn thing all day long and it’s the last time I tell you” You warned him. Cassian and Rhys looked at each other before lunging for you both.

Rhys was the first to grab you and pull you away. Cassain quickly grabbed the plate from Azriel’s hands carrying it like bomb “ I GOT IT!” Cassian rushed over to the window chucking it out of the study. Rhys grabbed a napkin as he marched over to Azriel “ Spit it out!” to which Azriel obliged.

Rhys handed Azriel a cup of water to which Cassian yelled “ NO NOT THE WATER” Rhys immediately switched hands and conjured up a second water.

“ You gave him water too!” Rhys groaned as he looked at Azriel who was in fact looking at you.

“ For fuck sake it’s literally water! He hasn’t eaten and I highly doubt he had water! You guys, I worked hard on that food. Cass that was also my favorite dish!” You whined as you twirled around and faced a wall that was decorated with one of Feyre’s paintings.

“ Sorry but I had to do it. I’ll buy you a new one” Cassian shrugged, though he’d have to admit it was a bit of an overreaction.

Rhys sighed “ Y/N has anyone ever spoken to you about the mating ritual?”

You froze in place, there was no way your high lord was about to teach you a lesson on mating bonds, especially the ritual, “Ooooo no, oh by the cauldron this is embarrassing” You could feel your blood heat under you skin, and creep along your chest and neck. Azriel’s eyebrows shot up realizing that maybe his brother shouldn’t express that knowledge to her. Cassian seemed to have noticed the sudden change.

“ Rhys, I think we should let Az explain to her..” Cassian suggested as he walked toward a chair and sat down.

Rhys sighed again he looked between you and Azriel, “ We aren’t leaving this room, you can explain it to her in the corner but I want you both where I can see you” Rhys walked over to his desk pulling out papers to work on while Cassian played with one of Rhys’s trinkets. Rhys reached over and took it out of his hand. “ That’s not a toy”

“ Then why is it on your desk?”

“ Because that is where I decided to place it”

“ Why would you do that”

“ Cass” Rhys had pinched the bridge of his nose as the two began a bickering of their own.

You shook your head as you walked over to Azriel shyly. Azriel reached for your wrist grabbing it as he pulled you closer to him. You were experiencing many mixed emotions and you were rather embarrassed. You wanted nothing more than to dive into your work to distract yourself. You also wanted to severely scrub this memory out of your brain. Your head hung low, Azriel let go of your wrist tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. His finger grazed along the side of your jaw before dipping under your chin to tilt your head up so that your eyes could meet. Rhys had put a shield around you so that your conversation would stay between you with no prying ears. So to speak.

“ It’s okay” His usual sharp stoic demeanor softened, his eyes gently as they searched yours. Boy did you melt into a tiny ball of goo. “ You don’t have to be embarrassed. Shall I explain the ritual to you” He offered though he was going to tell you anyway. You groaned again moving your crown against his chest as you looked at the floor and at his feet. He only chuckled at your actions.

“ I’ll take that as a yes. Well what I can tell you is that when you give a mate food it signifies the bond. It makes it, as you would put it ‘official’. It means acceptance. After the acceptance, after the male eats all of the food given to him by his mate…they- uh do- a bit of mating of their own” Azriel was not sure how to phrase that last sentence. On any other given day with his job and with his life he would have used better terms. This was new; he had never done this before.

“ Oh-ooh- Oooooh I see” You felt even worse about your decision now. Azriel again lifted your head so that your eyes could lock again.

You huffed moving away from Azriel slightly as you spoke “ So from what I gathered is that I waltzed into this meeting almost force feed you-“

“ You didn’t waltz, you ran and barged in. You absolutely force fed me” Azriel teased you which only made you glare at him.

“ That’s not funny Az, I was about to put you into a sexual frenzy. “

“ Is that such a bad thing?” He reached for your hips but you smacked his hands away, not to say he couldn’t touch you but that this really wasn’t funny. Azriel ignored the fact that you did that, completely touch starved and craving you he pulled you back to him.

You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. “No but- you were busy, I knew that, I just wanted to make sure you ate.” Azriel smiled as he rested his forehead against yours.

“ Tell you what, when I am done with this meeting. I will personally come find you myself. You can warm me up some food and a glass of water-” you both chuckled at that , as he leaned closer to your ear this time “ -and when I finish, for dessert,-“ he pressed your body even harder into him, closer to him impossibly close”- I want you spread out for me, so that I can devour you, leaving you wanting and needing more.”

Your eyes widened, Azriel moved away before capturing your lips in a kiss, but before it could go no further Rhys snapped the shield back, Cassian already near Azriel pulling him off and away from you. You in that moment cursed Rhys and Cass in your mind but in reality you flipped both of them off. Rhys had called for Nuala to take you back to the Kitchen. Azriel who no longer remained broody held a smirk filled with mischief and desire. His eyes twinkled with excitement, he was happy to have you as his mate. You could definitely say the same about him.

Before you completely exited the study room Azriel winked at you. You smiled at him as you shut the door heading to the kitchen with Nuala who bombarded you with questions about what happened. Cerridwen finished decorating a dish as she grabbed another, you also spilled the beans to her as she wanted every juicy detail. The three of you had grabbed dish after dish placing it on the table. You were giddy, excited, but mostly nervous about the acceptance of the bond. You knew Azriel would take care of you but you couldn’t help but worry if you’d be interrupted. Though you knew no one would bother you. Time could not have gone by any slower if it weren’t for the twins who kept you company and busy.

Once the food was ready and everyone piled in. Again you found yourself searching for Azriel. Nowhere to be found you sighed. Feyre walked over towards you and pushed you in the direction of the kitchen.

“ There’s something in the kitchen I think you should look at” She tells you and you knew what or rather who she was referring too. You giggled nodding, you head into the kitchen, when a little shadow flew towards you, wrapping around your wrist, your hair and caressing the sides of your cheeks. You grinned knowing that the man of your dreams was sitting at the island you were working on. He had a plate, a fork and nice ready to eat. A glass of water sat next to his plate. He offered you a sweet smile. He beckoned you closer and you couldn’t resist. You grabbed a chair and sat next to him. He waited for you to sit down. “ Have you eaten today?” He asked you before digging in. You grabbed a fork of your own getting ready to eat with him.

“ I’ll pick off your plate” You replied as you held the fork in hand getting ready to grab a potato.

Azriel watched you for a moment taking it in that you were his. “ I don’t know if I can last”

“ What come on listen I’ll eat one half of the plate you eat the other side. It’ll be fine-”

“ No-I meant I doubt that I’m going to be able to eat this without wanting you right now” He whispered.

You felt your blood heat up again. “ Az, eat first and then we’ll see if there’s room for…me…” Azriel’s skin tinted pink when you whispered those words. He hadn’t expected you to flirt back like that. That made him want you even more.

“ There’s always room for you” He whispers.

“ I guess we’ll have to find out. '' You teased as you began eating a few tiny pieces so that Azriel could eat the entire plate.

Azriel only shook his head as he quietly dug into his food with you by his side.

#poc reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #imagines #azriel x reader #fanfic #x reader #azriel spymaster #x poc reader #x you #x y/n #acotar x you #bipoc writers #fanfic readers #fluff #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger

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pucksandpower · 1 year

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Charles Leclerc x fashion designer!Reader - Instagram AU

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, csiriano, and 472,816 others

yourusername ❤️

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scuderiaferrari we’re always up for more red

yourbestfriend hottest couple

tiptoptifosi that photo of charles is doing things to me

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc 🧡

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pierregasly 🧡

charles_leclerc do you even know what this is about?

pierregasly no but i was feeling left out

keepingupwithleclerc i’m sensing a trend

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Liked by charles_leclerc, fashionweek, and 483,752 others

yourusername 💛

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landonorris you should have used a photo of charles in the banana suit

yourusername serious oversight on my part

georgerussell63 i’m disappointed, we expect better from you

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc 💚

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pierregasly trying your hand at modeling?

yourusername i prefer to make clothes instead of posing in them but charles might have a future in it

charles_leclerc driver by day, model by night

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yourusername 💙

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carlossainz55 charles acting like he’s never seen fish before

yourusername he’s a big fan of finding nemo

leclercify he even looks good swimming 😵‍💫

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yourusername that second photo was right before we found out i’m allergic to hydrangeas 🫣

charles_leclerc it was definitely a memorable date

yourusername lovely picnic up until that point

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f1wagupdates Y/N Y/L/N made her Fashion Week debut yesterday to rave reviews. It seems that the colorful collection was teased by her and Charles’ mysterious posts these past few weeks

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f1wagupdates More from Y/N’s post-show interview: “This collection was really personal and inspired by my relationship. It’s meant to be a play on the saying ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ because when I’m with him, it really feels like every color in the universe is so much brighter. I think I managed to shape those feelings into clothing that others can enjoy and reflect on.”

leclercdefender their romance is everything

loyallyleclerc charles designed a helmet to celebrate their anniversary a few months ago and now y/n designed a collection inspired by their love. it’s too much to handle 😭

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written-in-flowers · 6 months

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Be the Light: Pt. 2 (SeongjoongxFem!reader)

Pairing: Hongjoong x Seonghwa x Fem!reader

Word Count: 7k

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

AU: historical!au, arranged marriage!au, royalty!au

Summary: YN has spent her entire life in service of Han Sookmyung, Queen of Hanseong. She never dreamed above her station, or that she'd ever be in reach of Sookmyung's concubines, 'The Golden Ones'. But, when secrets are brought to life, her world is turned upside-down.

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, heavily referenced torture (briefly), heavily referenced abuse (briefly), heavily referenced sexual abuse (briefly), enslavement, slight gaslighting, lost sibling, political drama, historical drama, joseon!au, concubine!ateez, nsfw content, virgin!reader, polyamory, polygamous, throuple, threesome m/m/f, oral sex (m. and f. receiving/giving), cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, virgin sex, virginity discussed.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @tunaasan @lelaleleb @sevngmin148 @meljoongiee @puppyminnnie @sunasmoke22 @kyourixr

And thanks to my @daesukiii for beta reading this for me! It's so hard to find a good beta reader, and they've never disappointed me! ❤️

Part 1 < | > Part 3

***

Hongjoong learned long ago that the best release of anger was having sex with Sookmyung. Not in the heated passionate way he might’ve with a real lover, but in a hateful way. He pinned her down. He pulled her hair. He bit her neck, bruised her thighs, and slapped her ass until it turned red. He rammed his hips into her quickly and fiercely. All the while pretending that it is his desire for her making him act harshly. He held Sookmyung by her arms as he guided her onto Yunho, who laid beneath her naked and erect. Her loud, feral grunts told him she was close to her third climax today. He hated her. He hated her for making them do this. Her insatiable libido was limitless depravity. Nothing is ever too vile for her. Nothing is ever off limits.

He hated how she’d made San whip Wooyoung, all because she thought they’d coupled together without her permission. The two sat on a couch nearby, kissing softly as ordered to be Sookmyung. He saw the long red welts and purple marks along Wooyoung’s tanned back and torso. According to her, they’d been laying in bed together half naked. San told him they hadn’t touched or kissed. They’d only laid there talking as friends do at night. It enraged her. She’d scowled and screamed, throwing a tantrum in San's bed chamber. Hongjoong remembered hearing Wooyoung’s cries as she barked orders at San. San still had bite marks on his shoulders where she’d bit him. This made Hongjoong suck and bite into her neck to retaliate.

“Don’t stop,” she growled as he and Yunho pushed into her, “Don’t…Don’t..Oh god, keep going!”

She eventually came, and Hongjoong stayed inside until it subsided. Every muscle in his body ached, burning hotly and begging to rest. He and Yunho both withdrew and moved away from her. He did not fully rest as Yunho did. Standing on wobbly knees, Hongjoong grabbed a robe from nearby and slid over his shoulders.

“Hongjoongie,” he heard Sookmyung whimpered behind him, “Where are you going?”

“I’m famished, beloved,” he muttered.

“I can have food brought to us,” she called, but he shook his head.

“No need,” he assured her. “The others will keep you company until I return.”

He kissed her before walking out of the circular room. Hongjoong walked down a hallway into another, smaller sitting room where a servant left plates of food and a pot of tea. This sitting room is the farthest from the main lounge, where most of the guards and attendants would be, leaving him entirely alone. Taking a sip of tea, he took a quick peek through the wooden lattice windows. The setting sun gave their garden a russet glow that broke between leaves and branches. It is a beautiful sight, he admitted. Lush green bushes and vibrant flowers basked in the spring time season, while fish swam in the ponds and lakes across the grounds. Cobbled walkways circled brass fountains, and trees outside sometimes bore fruit for them to eat. It reminded him of his own garden back at home, where he played with his siblings and companions while his mother looked on. He still remembers all the times she’d chase him around the garden or taught him about the different flowers. Sookmyung had taken that from him. Shed stormed in with her vast army, and slew his entire family. He thought of his mother’s lifeless eyes looking at him as a knife plunged into her chest, her last breath echoing in his ear.

‘I’ll take better care of you than she ever did,’ Sookmyung whispered to him as his mother lay dying on the ground.

He hated her. He loathed her. He despised her with every fiber of his being. Queen Sookmyung had stormed into his home, killed his family, enslaved his people, and then took him. It sickened him. He did not eat a single portion left on the table; he could barely stomach the tea. She must be stopped. He’d said this to himself a million times over the past eight years. Hongjoong often laid in bed and thought of killing her. Simply putting a knife in her chest as she’d done to his mother. But, no. That will not do. Her council, no matter how much they despise her, will be forced to act. Also, there’d be an even major problem: there’d be nobody to claim the throne. King Siwon had old uncles, and they had children, but they’re so low in rank now that nobody remembers their names. Sookmyung put any possible challenges to the sword: children of the king’s concubines, close cousins, and people who might stake a claim however small. There’d be nobody to guide their kingdom; nobody to speak on behalf of its people and rebuild what Sookmyung destroyed.

Hongjoong might hate Sookmyung, but he did not hate the people. The subjects whom he’d hoped to serve one day called out for help and he is unable to answer their call. It made him feel helpless, useless, and powerless. That is, until he’d met Naeun.

He’d gone into the garden alone a few weeks ago when he heard a disturbance near the apricot trees towards the side walls. The scrape of metal against stone caught his ear in the dark corner of the garden, followed by a soft thump of feet touching ground. When Hongjoong went to discover it, someone put their hand over his mouth and pushed him into the bushes between the trees. There, he’d seen the intruder: short and slim as a tree branch, the young woman wore a half mask and dressed in all black. He’d originally been scared, seeing the dagger on her belt, but then she pulled down her mask.

‘Your Grace, I come on behalf of Seo Changbin. He says hope is not lost.’

It took him a moment to place a face to the name, but it hit him quickly. While never having met the man in person, he’d heard Sookmyung mention his name disdainfully before. A resistance leader, he’d once been a military soldier until his defection some years ago. According to Naeun, he has been gathering recruits to his cause while remaining underground. Hongjoong had no idea why he’d contact him; he’d lost his crown and his people. He held no power to help them. Changbin seemed to think differently.

‘The people of Wonju have not forgotten you, my prince. We must free you from this prison.’

'That is much easier said than done, I'm afraid. Sookmyung takes as much care to keep us imprisoned as she does keeping others out. The most I can do for him is to remain here.'

'You wish to be kept here?'

'Yes. Sookmyung foolishly boasts about her plans in front of us. I know things about her bases, her forces, and her battle plans than most. I can leave messages for you in the tree whenever I have something to pass along.'

'Your Grace, if she were to catch you…I believe you do not understand. You are our only hope.'

'I am more useful to the rebellion inside these walls than out. Trust me. I know what I'm doing. Come to me a week from now, and I shall have information for you.'

Naeun agreed to the plan. Sookmyung never suspected anything when she began idly chatting about her various strategies. Hongjoong made note of her words and passed them along to Naeun, who then told Changbin. It helped them in the short term, but they needed something stronger. Simply cutting off trade routes, attacking military camps, and liberating political prisoners is not enough. They needed to get rid of Sookmyung permanently.

An assassin sounded easy, but Sookmyung is so closely guarded, getting a moment with her might be hard. The one time a person did manage to reach her chambers, she’d killed them. He told Naeun that Sookmyung is no delicate kitten. She has claws that are long and sharp, and she enjoys sinking them into her enemies slowly.

They would need to be careful if they wished to proceed.

“Tired already, Joongie?”

He heard Seonghwa call from somewhere behind him, and he turned around to see him by the door. Wearing his own black robe, seeing him in the faint orange sunset, he understood why Sookmyung took him as a concubine. His dark eyes twinkled with a thousand stars, and his plush lips resembled rosé petals. After being captured by Sookmyung, Hongjoong realized he had companions in his misery: the other sons of people Sookmyung killed. One of them being Seonghwa, son of a chief advisor in another nation. Sookmyung must’ve hoped he and Seonghwa would fight over her; that they’d rip each other apart for a special spot beside her. That is the only disappointment she let them get away with. The pair of them both realized the only people they’d have in this world is one another; they’d never see home or their families again. The “flowers” learned long ago that they can only depend on one another.

“Far from it,” he replied. “I thought it’d be unfair to keep her from enjoying the rest of you.”

‘I wanted to get away from her.’

Even in this room far from ears and eyes, they practiced caution. Seonghwa sauntered over to him, “I think she’s plenty occupied with the others for the moment. A bit of rest will not upset her.”

‘She’s busy. Let’s talk.’

Their casual expressions became serious once Seonghwa reached him, their backs facing the doorway. Seonghwa poured himself tea, and the elder sipped quietly.

“Will you see your friend again tonight?”

“I might,” he said. “She told me to meet her by the trees a week from then. She said Changbin uncovered information that could be very instrumental in removing her, but he needed proof of it.”

“What could it be?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Maybe he discovered Sookmyung is some foul demon and has discovered how to banish her from this world.”

The pair of them giggled softly. Seonghwa drank from his tea cup, and said, “Have you heard anything about that maid?”

Hongjoong hesitated. His stomach twisted into knots when the picture came back to him. He pictured a young girl, about sixteen by his estimation, laying on the pavilion floor as she cried out in pain. It had been a mistake. An older servant told him that the young girl came to them looking for work, and was given a job in the kitchen. She’d been putting down wine cups when she accidentally knocked one over which spilled onto Sookmyung’s lap. Naturally, the queen went into an immediate rage.

“One of the attendants told me they’d thrown her into the cells for a week,” Hongjoong said flatly, putting his drink aside. “Over an accident. She beat that child for spilling wine, then imprisoned her.”

Sookmyung beat her with a bamboo switch until she drew blood. Hongjoong remembered flinching every time the thin wooden stick met flesh; his heart sinking in every cry he heard, her pleas for the abuse to stop. A proper monarch would not have risen to anger so quickly. To be fair, he’d never seen anyone rush to rage like Sookmyung. The girl left the scene bruised and whimpering, being dragged away by two armed guards. They’d all wished to speak out. While the others wept for the young girl, he fumed with hate. It swelled in his chest until it tightened, causing him to take deep breaths. The child did nothing wrong. She’d only been a bit careless, possibly nervous at serving a queen for the first time.

“She needs to be stopped, Hwa,” Hongjoong said under his breath. “This madness must not be allowed to continue.”

“It will be stopped,” Seonghwa assured him. “A revolution is at hand.”

“Revolution? What revolution?” he spat. “The citizens of this city are too frightened of her and her men to raise up arms against her. The few who can be encouraged do not have the proper support. A revolution can only happen if enough people stand up and speak out.” He thought of that girl, and what she must be feeling now. She must still be frightened. “That woman has stomped out any glimmer of hope those people might have had long ago. She killed anyone who would have opposed her or helped them stop her. Do not forget, love, she has her people everywhere as well.”

“Perhaps the news your friend brings will be the very ray of hope we need,” said Seonghwa. Hongjoong sensed a change in subject when his brother smiled softly, “YN looked lovely today, didn’t she?”

“Yes,” he nodded, thinking about you as he admired the flowers beneath the window. “She did.”

“Good idea in distracting Sookmyung,” Seonghwa said, doing the same. “Chaewon mentioned she hadn’t seen YN for the past two nights.”

“I thought she could use the time.”

You looked lovely at court today. Even though you wore the same hanbok, the same slippers, and the same hairstyle every day, he and Seonghwa still found you lovely. If Hongjoong pitied anyone outside of himself and his brothers, it’d be you. While they only saw a small percentage of Sookmyung’s cruelty, you saw all of it. You saw the things she did as a princess, you saw the horrors she committed during her conquest, and the deplorable things she did as a queen. He heard Sookmyung often makes you join her in the palace jails where she keeps her victims. You've seen Sookmyung’s true nature. He imagined she might’ve even forced you to participate. If she enjoyed making you watch her have sex with them, then she definitely delighted in forcing you to torture people with her.

“She is clever, you must give her that,” Seonghwa cut through his thoughts. “From what the handmaidens say, YN is the only other person who can navigate Sookmyung. Remember when that seamstress accidentally made her jacket too short, and Sookmyung almost hit her for it? YN managed to convince her that Queens are trendsetters, and how popular she’d be to have started a new trend in hanbok fashions.”

“She’s brilliant.”

Words he instantly wished he could take back. Those words may float through the air and over to the very front of the house where she’d hear him. Hongjoong could never look at you the way he wanted with Sookmyung so close by, but he liked catching glimpses of you. He knew you likely did not feel the same way. Sookmyung’s wrath kept you from looking too long or speaking to him directly. The things he learned about you had been through others. Late at night, when the weight of his plight robbed him of sleep, he envisioned what would happen if he’d still been a prince. He would’ve come to Hanseong as a diplomatic envoy or as a prince to discuss alliance terms. You’d likely still be Sookmyung’s handmaiden, but he’d be allowed to speak to you. He could talk to you without the threat of death looming behind you. He could enjoy your company leisurely in the open and be free to seek you out if he wished.

Perhaps, once he’d deposed Sookmyung and reclaimed his homeland, he could pursue you the way a man pursues a woman he admires.

“I sometimes wonder what it'd be like if I was still an advisor’s son,” Seonghwa mused, “We wouldn’t be the same rank but I still would’ve married her, if she accepted. I’d keep her safe. She wouldn’t need to live in fear anymore.”

“And if she married me, she’d be free to do as she wished,” added Hongjoong.

“What makes you think she’d marry you?” teased Seonghwa. “Because you’re a prince? You cannot marry someone so below your rank. You’re supposed to marry a princess.”

“Sookmyung murdered all the princesses, remember? ” said Hongjoong, “Besides, I wouldn’t be a prince anymore. I’d be a king, so she’d surely say ‘yes’ to me.”

“Being a queen is complicated and stressful. Being the wife of an Advisor is much more relaxed. She’d have a comfortable lifestyle and also freedom she wouldn’t get as a queen.”

“She’s strong enough to handle the responsibilities. She handles Sookmyung every day, so it wouldn’t be so hard.”

Hongjoong did not mind the idea of being with both you and Seonghwa. He’d grown to love Seonghwa, and after sharing a bed with him on many occasions, the intimacy nurtured the fondness. Hongjoong learned to put his trust in a handful of people, and Seonghwa became one of them. His brilliant mind and tender heart drew in anyone who spoke to him, Hongjoong included.

“Or you could both be my concubines to make things easier for everyone,” he winked. “Kings have very big appetites, you know.”

Seonghwa punched his arm and laughed, “I’d never be a concubine to anyone ever again. I’ll settle for your Chief Advisor position, however.”

“In that case, I get to marry YN and you cannot protest.”

“Trade YN for a seat on your council? Hm, perhaps I should think more on it before giving an answer.”

“You’d be Chief Advisor, second to The King and second most powerful man in the country,” he explained. “Surely, that will be a reasonable trade.”

“May I at least kiss her before you take her from me, Your Grace?”

“If she accepts, then you may.”

“Hongjoong! Seonghwa! Where are you?”

The sound of her voice demolished any laughter between them. Hongjoong’s hatred immediately boiled inside him. He glanced back to the garden, the sun nearly set and darkness waning over them. He knew you’d come to bring Sookmyung her supper, and then disappear again. Perhaps those few minutes you stayed in his presence may be enough to soothe his anger.

“Hongjoong!” she screamed in a firm tone.

A third call will result in chastising. Hongjoong finished his drink, then stood up with Seonghwa to walk back into the main room. Draped with red, black and gold, plush couches and cushions decorated the circular room. It had every comfort or luxury people outside the palace would faint over. If she wanted, musicians would stand in a corner to entertain them while Yunho, Mingi or Wooyoung danced for her. Jongho or Yeosang would be ordered to sing songs as she lounged herself across Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s laps. The “garden”, as she called their quarters, was her private playground and nobody is permitted inside unless under extreme urgency.

Sookmyung laid on her back on one of the couches, still nude and sweaty from the strenuous love making. His brothers rested around her, their privates no doubt aching from the constant orgasms, and their muscles burning due to the exertion. He supposed she’d tired herself out, since all physical touching stopped in his absence. Though, knowing Sookmyung, that desire can turn its ugly head around very easily. He must not do anything to entice her, yet still placate her. Perhaps he can convince her to retire to bed early or return to her quarters for the night. Meeting Naeun will be easier if she’s away.

“There you are,” she said, rolling onto her side and looking at him through tired eyes, “I was beginning to think you’d fallen asleep without me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He thought of straddling her to wrap his hands around her throat, yet instead, he did so to kiss her softly. Her lips, warm and tasting faintly of their combined juices, disgusted him instead of exciting him. The thought of kissing you instead was what pushed him through it until they broke apart.

“I had someone go fetch YN,” she told him, putting her legs across his lap. “I’m starving, and she hasn’t appeared yet.”

“I’m sure she’s preoccupied elsewhere, and it slipped her mind,” assured Hongjoong.

“How can I slip from her mind?” she snapped. “I’m her queen. My welfare is all she should be concerned with; it’s her role as my handmaiden and head of my household. She is my oldest companion, but she can be so simple-minded sometimes.”

He wanted to slap her, but resisted the urge by giving her thigh a slight squeeze disguised as desire.

“Maybe I should take her down to the cells again,” she said pensively. Rolling her hairpin between her fingers, he saw her turning the idea in time with it. “I can show her what can happen if she forgets about me.”

His eyes looked to Seonghwa, whose jaw clenched tightly. He saw similar expressions from the others around them. Hongjoong knew they cared about you just as much as he did.

“I don’t think such a harsh display is necessary, Mistress,” said Yunho, coming to her opposite side, gently moving his fingers through her hair. “There are many duties she has besides tending to your needs. She has to manage your household staff, plan out your meals for you, and make sure everything is prepared for your nightly routine. The kitchen might not have finished your supper, for all you know.”

“Hm, I suppose.”

“And I believe you’ve exerted yourself enough for one evening, no?” he proposed.

“I guess,” she said, sounding almost disappointed. “It’d still be funny,” she snorted. “She’s so squeamish sometimes. She'd looked away when I cut off a man's hand once, and cried like a baby."

Hongjoong remembered that man. While thievery is frowned upon, the man’s reasoning was sound to Hongjoong: he was hungry. Rather than remove a finger for theft as is customary, Sookmyung chopped his hand. Piece by piece, he'd heard. Hongjoong did not see it, but you did. He wished he could remove the images from your mind, and replace them with ones of warmth and happiness. Yet, that is one thing a king cannot do.

“She’s delicate, Mistress,” Yeosang said next, coming up and kneeling beside Yunho. “Ladies like YN are sensitive to certain ghastly sights, and cannot handle them. She is not as strong as you; you cannot fault her for what is a part of her.”

“You all seem to be quite fond of her…” they all heard the accusation laced into her words, and Hongjoong knew what to say.

“She is not only your handmaiden, but your childhood companion,” he said, “She has become a large part of you. She’s almost an extension of yourself, and how can we not be fond of something that is a part of you?”

‘She is your slave. She is your property, therefore we care for her safety and spirit.’

"She is,” Sookmyung agreed, “I have known her my entire life. She has been there for me through the toughest times, and has never betrayed me. YN might be naive and simple, but she is the only person whom I can trust entirely.” Hongjoong saw her eyes glaze over as you crossed her mind, “If she serves me well, perhaps I’ll find a suitable husband for her myself. Someone worthy of my handmaiden and companion. Nobody of noble birth, of course, but maybe a nice stable boy or a cook-”

“-You summoned me, Your Majesty?”

Speak of an angel, and she shall appear. You parted the curtains leading into the harem room, still in your white uniform and hair braided down your back. The concubines did their best to not get an eyeful of you, but Hongjoong couldn’t help himself. While Sookmyung displayed pride and power, you showed more purity and grace. He liked that about you.

“There you are,” said Sookmyung, standing up from the couch as if she hadn’t spent hours having sex with her concubines. Without an order, you picked up the bed robe hanging over one of the chairs to slide onto her arms. “I’m starving. Tell the cook to bring my supper here.”

“I already told them,” you said, pulling her hair out from inside the robe, “I know how exhausted you must be, so I thought you may find it more comfortable to eat here.”

“Ah, YN…” she smiled in satisfaction, “My father used to say the mark of a true servant is them knowing your commands before you’ve given them. You know me so well, YN.”

“It is my job to know you.”

Your eyes found him in the room as you quickly braided her hair from her face. Hongjoong knew complimenting you would raise suspicion with Sookmyung.

“You’re an excellent handmaiden, YN,” said Yunho, “Knowing exactly what our Mistress needs at any given moment is a true talent.”

You bowed your head to him, but did not answer. You’re not allowed to unless Sookmyung permits it. You finished tying her hair, and stood aside while Sookmyung returned to one of the sofas nearby. Hongjoong forced himself to look away from you, knowing a lingering glance may have consequences for you. If she suspected anything between you both, you’d no longer be allowed in the house, and that would kill him.

Sookmyung lounged across a sofa, resting against Wooyoung’s chest with her feet on San’s lap. "She truly is,” Sookmyung said. “YN, I was just telling my flowers that I should find you a proper husband.”

“That’s kind of you to consider, Your Majesty.”

“But, I have no idea what kind of men you like,” she frowned, and Hongjoong feared where this might be going.

“Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “What kind of men do you like? Athletic? Intelligent? Creative? Mysterious?”

“Um, I’ve never really thought about it before. I don’t have much time for men.”

“Well, if you did think about it.”

You averted your eyes from the men staring right at you. No doubt you think she is trying to trick you into a punishment. “I prefer simple men, Your Majesty. Ordinary people like me.”

“Psh, that’s no fun,” she scoffed. She paused for a moment, then said, “A woman like you needs a protector type. You know, somebody strong who will take care of you and be a proper provider. Your father isn’t around anymore, and once he’s gone, you’ll be a vulnerable little mouse. Sannie,” she turned to him, “Stand up.”

“Mistress?”

“Stand up,” she repeated more firmly.

San did not question her again and stood from the couch. “Take off your robe,” she said. “Let YN see what a protector’s body looks like.”

San removed his robe, letting it slide down his shoulders. Hongjoong saw red flushing up to his neck, cheeks, and ears as the room took in his naked form. You certainly did your best to not look at him.

“YN, look at him.”

“I’d rather not, Your Majesty.”

“Why not?”

“Because he isn’t my type.”

“You won’t know until you look.”

When you looked up at San, you did your best to not glance at his exposed groin. “Do you like it?”

“Um…well…”

“I won’t know what you like unless you tell me.”

“I think he’s nice, Your Majesty.”

“Nice? You clearly aren’t looking in the right places,” she said. “Yunho, make her look.”

“Mistress?”

“You heard me. YN clearly needs a bit of guidance. Show her where she should look.”

“Mistress, is this truly necessary?” asked Seonghwa. “YN is not as versed in sexual practices as you. Women like her are-”

“-She will be after tonight,” she grinned maliciously at your nervousness.

Yunho had taken two careful steps up to you when the doors at the end of the hall burst open. The sounds of struggling and feet stomping on the wooden floors froze everyone in place. A terrible feeling stirred in Hongjoong’s stomach when he heard a woman grunting. Through the curtains came two of Sookmyung’s guards, each of them holding the arm of someone dressed entirely in black. Naeun. Hongjoong let his shock show on his face, but disguised it as shock at the intrusion.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sookmyung shot up, outraged by their interruption. “What is going on?”

“We found this one sneaking about in your flower garden, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said. “She was carrying this.”

He showed a long dagger Naeun kept on her person at all times. The red band around the pummel made every lewd thought in Sookmyung’s mind disappear. Dark eyes glared at Naeun, who glared right back at her.

“A resistance fighter, huh?” She walked towards Naeun slowly, like a lioness stalking prey. “You truly believed you could sneak in here under the cover of night, armed with a pathetic little blade,” she took the blade from the guard and weighed it in her hands, “And think you can kill me? Hm, is that what you hoped to accomplish?” Naeun had the smarts not to respond. “You resistance bastards are like roaches. Right when I think I’ve stomped you out, you crawl your way back in.” She stuck the knife right underneath Naeun’s chin to force her eyes on her, “As I told the last rebel scum who snuck into my palace, your cause is hopeless. I control the trades. I control the fleet, the army, and the elite. Everyone and everything on this earth belongs to me, and I can do with it as I see fit.”

"You bitch,” Naeun gritted. “You won’t get away with this. Soon, our true monarch will rise from the shadows and strike you down. Death is coming for you, Sookmyung.”

“Not before it comes for you!”

“No, Mistress,” you rushed to her side to stay her hand, “Do not kill her.”

“What?!”

“Your Majesty, if this woman truly is a resistance fighter, she may have information on the people who sent her,” you explained breathlessly. “If you question her enough, she may tell you where the rebels are hiding. Those rebels have been a thorn in your side for so long, you might have the key to their undoing right in front of you.” When Sookmyung seemed unconvinced, breathing quickly on the verge of a kill, “Wouldn’t putting her in the cells be more fruitful than merely killing her? Particularly in front of the present company. You wouldn’t want your flowers to see the ugly side of you.”

Sookmyung mulled this option over, then said, “Yes. Yes, it would be more fruitful.” She smirked at Naeun, sliding the flat of the blade across her jawline, “I think we can learn very much from our ambitious friend here. Take her to the cells. YN and I will be there soon.”

“Yes, my queen," one of them said, bowing and taking Naeun away.

“Should you not dress yourself properly, Your-” you'd begun to say.

“-And get blood on my dress? I think not." Sookmyung turned to the men behind her, “Sleep well, Flowers. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Beloved,” Hongjoong called out to her, standing to meet her by the door, “How about you let YN go for the night and I will accompany you to the cells? She is not very well suited to interrogate someone properly, and she’ll be no help to you.” He pulled her closer to him, then whispered, “The others might find it ugly, but I find your fierceness to be…inspiring.” He brushed his lips on the edge of her ear, aware of you watching him.

“You do?”

“Always. A good queen should know when to be strong. YN isn’t like you; she’s soft and simple. Dismiss her for the night, and let me go with you.”

“You just want me all to yourself, don’t you?” she giggled, pecking his lips. “Fine, I will allow it this one time. YN, you’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Hongjoong needed to get to Naeun. He's sure you stopped Sookmyung to keep Naeun alive or otherwise kill her quickly. But, he still had a greater need for her. He walked with Sookmyung out of the house, feeling your presence behind him. Naeun is a woman dedicated to the cause. Hongjoong sensed she will not give up the information easily, if at all. Knowing Sookmyung, she will drag out the pain for as long as possible before letting Naeun succumb to her wounds. Naeun will be alive enough to pass on the information she’d gotten from Changbin. Letting Sookmyung into the palanquin outside the house, he looked over to see you already walking away. You must feel relieved at being spared embarrassment and guilt for tonight. As he climbed into the seat, he knew he’d done at least one thing right tonight.

He braced himself for what he’d witness tonight.

***

Sookmyung’s torture chambers ran deep underneath the palace jail. Sitting behind metal bars, “prisoners of interest” were locked up in small, low-ceiling rooms with nothing but a bed of straw to sleep on. Hongjoong’s nose wrinkled at the foul smells emanating from the different cells as they passed them. He did not dare glance inside any of them, a bit fearful of what he might find there. A sense of despair and dread came over him as he followed her down the aisle to the room at the end. He could imagine himself being a prisoner here, dragged out of a cell and inflicted with unimaginable agony. It sent shivers down his spine.

“What do you think, love?” Sookmyung asked him, excitement dancing in her eyes. “Do you like it?”

“It’s innovative,” he said, having to come up with something.

He dared peek into a cell, where he saw a long wooden box on the floor. He thought it might be a storage room before he saw the box begin to quake and faint screams came through the wood. It made his blood run cold.

“You built this place yourself or was it always here?” he asked, moving along with her.

“I built most of it, but it’d been in disuse for decades,” she said. “My father never approved of torture. He believed the punishment should fit the crime. I think differently. If the punishment is extreme, then the offender won’t think of doing it again.”

Hongjoong didn’t disagree. Not that he agreed either, but he wouldn’t say it out loud. Loud, painful screaming echoed from behind a wooden door, and this made Sookmyung stop to look through its small window. “Blossom, come look,” she smiled, glancing over to him and beckoning him forward, “They’ve lifted him to the ceiling.”

He made himself step over to her, and she let him see the naked man dangling from a pulley system. The jailors tied baskets of weights to his ankles so his legs stretched further. From what he could see, the baskets were nearly full.

“You see, what they do is hang them from the ceiling,” she explained excitedly, “And then they keep adding weights to the baskets to bring their body downwards. It’s like a stretching rack, but vertical. I’ve found it quite marvelous to watch. If they hang there long enough, their bones start dislodging from the sockets.”

“That’s…Beloved, we have an assassin to question. We shouldn’t keep the confessor waiting.”

“Oh alright,” she huffed, like a child being refused sweets, “But when we finish, I want to show you The Box. YN squirms whenever I open it, but you’re a strong man and she’s a little girl, so you can handle it better than her.”

Hongjoong did not want to see ‘The Box’. He did not want to see any of this. If he asked, he’s sure whatever crime these people did to deserve these punishments is minor. ‘They stole a loaf of bread’, ‘They said treasonous things’, ‘They happened to be wearing the same color as me at a special occasion’. A queen, or any person, should not delight in the misery and pain of others. Capturing the revolting scenes before him only fueled his hate more, and solidified his cause. He’d get rid of Sookmyung. He’d kill her himself, if he must, and the consequences be damned. These people, whatever their crimes, do not deserve such torment.

They finally reached a room at the end of the hall, which turned out to be a singular space with a fireplace, a tub of water, and a wooden chair. At a desk in the corner sat a record keeper, who prepared a new sheet of paper and an ink bottle to record whatever transpired here. Why this was needed, Hongjoong could only guess it was meant for Sookmyung to revisit later on her own. Strapped to a chair in the middle of the room was Naeun, blood dripping from a broken nose and a harsh mark on her cheek. He stayed in the shadows as Sookmyung approached her, eyes widening at the sight of her helpless victim. Naeun glanced over to him, and he wanted more than anything to save her, but that’d mean revealing his intentions for tonight.

She’d started softly: questioning Naeun about the assassination attempt, who sent her, where were they and what else did they have planned. When Naeun did not answer, Sookmyung started slapping her. Then, she changed from a hand to a thick strip of leather. Then she used a long bamboo switch to strike Naeun’s hands until they bled. This did not disturb Hongjoong, since he’d witnessed such things during the war, but what Sookmyung escalated to shocked him.

Teeth pulling. Nail ripping. Bone breaking. Stretching her until her bones popped. Naeun’s screams of pain bounced off the damp, stone walls and into his ears. Hongjoong knew he could not look away, even for a moment, because Sookmyung would notice. The queen herself cackled at Naeun’s pain, only asking questions as an afterthought. Hongjoong saw the delight in her eyes, and the gratification the torture gave her each time. He wondered if this is what you witnessed every time you came down here, and, if so, you are much stronger than he could ever be.

“Fuck me,” Sookmyung growled at him, her eyes flaring and already lifting her robe.

“What?” he asked, stunned by her appearance. Blood stained her fingers, and light sprays covered her face. She pressed him into a wall, and began untying his own robes. “Sookmyung! Mistress!”

“Doesn’t this arouse you like it arouses me?” she asked, feral and panting as she stroked him. “Do you not feel adrenaline coursing through your veins in every snap? Do her screams not make your loins burn like mine? Put it inside me, Hongjoong. Please. Your queen demands it!”

He pushed her away from him hard, and she gasped at his refusal. “I will not do this here,” he explained himself, fixing his robe closed, “I think you have gone far enough, Mistress. The woman will obviously not speak tonight. Let her wallow in her pain and reflect on her choices.”

“I knew you were spineless,” she scowled at him. “A goddamn coward. That is how you ended up my whore, because you’re too cowardly to fight me. You’re a gormless, worthless, useless coward!” She grabbed a nearby pot of iron nails and threw it at him, though missed him by a few inches. “Let the bitch rot here for tonight, but come tomorrow, beloved,” she let the endearment hiss in her voice, “We’re going to return, and you’re going to question her for me.”

“Mistress…”

“We’re done here,” she said to the room, her eyes burning on Hongjoong.

He’d kill her then. He’d strap her to the chair and make it last as she would to him. Hongjoong watched her storm out of the room, and the jailors lifted Naeun from the floor. Her soft groan brought him out of his rage, and he looked over at her. From her half-opened eyes and shallow breaths, she still lived. Hongjoong followed the men out of the cell, then in the opposite direction of the entrance. The men did not question why he followed them, and nobody batted an eye when he watched them dump her body on straw. Hongjoong waited until they left to crouch down beside the bed. They must’ve assumed he wouldn’t try helping her, or that she'd die before he could.

“Naeun,” he whispered as quietly as possible, worried his voice may carry, “Naeun, can you hear me?”

Her head on the straw, he saw her remain motionless.

“Naeun,” he said once more, the worse coming to mind. “Naeun, please…” She muttered something incoherently, and he moved in closer to listen. “Naeun?”

Naeun wriggled on the bed, shifting as little as she could before stopping all together. Hongjoong held his breath. For a few seconds, Naeun stayed silent and still. He considered the fact that she may have died before her head slowly turned upwards to him. One eye swollen shut, the other suffered enough damage that blood vessels popped and filled the white of her eye. He noticed her mouth stopped bleeding from the pulled teeth, and a bloody gash congealed on her chin. Despite all this torture and pain, he still spotted a glimmer of defiance in her eyes. He saw her rifling around underneath her collar, bloody fingers barely grasping the necklace around her throat. When he saw her struggling to remove it, Hongjoong took it by the charm and tugged the thin rope. Opening his palm, he saw a wooden dove in flight.

“Crack…it,” she slurred, unable to move from her position.

Hongjoong took the wooden charm and smashed it against the floor. After a few hits, it split open to reveal a thin scroll inside. Hongjoong picked it up and gave her a quizzical look.

“Read it,” she croaked, “Alone.”

Tightly holding it in his fist, Hongjoong nodded and put the scroll in his pocket. Then, he looked at her. “You were brave, Naeun,” he said, “I wish I shared such resilience.”

“You d-do, Your Majesty,” she said, coughing and breathing deeply. “You do.” She took his hand in hers, and said, “Your people need you, sire. Please…help…help them.”

“I will,” he nodded. “I promise I will.”

Hongjoong knelt there for several minutes, listening to Naeun’s shallow breaths becoming fainter and fainter with time. When the torchlight fell on her face, he realized how young she was. He wondered about her. She must have a family; a husband too, perhaps, and possibly a child. A child who will now grow up without her, never to feel her warm embrace or gentle kisses again. Sookmyung took that from them. She'd taken it from him too. He watched her eyes slowly closing through his tears.

“I am going to make her pay, Naeun,” he said, sniffling. “You have my word. She will receive justice for what she has done.”

He recalled every time he could’ve ended Sookmyung’s life. He thought of the times she laid soundlessly sleeping in his bed or the moments they spent in the privacy of their garden. All the times he could’ve fed her poison, or how he could’ve strangled her during sex. Yet, he had not. He’d let her live, afraid of the consequences each time he thought of them. Seeing Naeun fade from the world spilled tears down his cheeks, and filled him with self-loathing. He is a coward. He should be the one Sookmyung tortured, not Naeun.

“Forgive me,” he whispered thickly, breathing back his tears.

Naeun did not speak, and he did not expect her to either. Yet, with her last breath she said, “For Wonju…”

And then she was gone. Hongjoong finally stood, and walked out of the cell. He informed the jailor, but did not stick around to elaborate. A sudden weight held him down. He trudged through the foul chambers, with the guilt holding him down. He did nothing. He’d watched the woman be senselessly tortured, and there’d been nothing he could do to help her. When he walked outside, he found Sookmyung waiting for him in the palanquin. He stared at her hard. The scroll in his pocket felt multitudes heavier than it should.

“Don’t be so weepy. Real men don’t weep,” she said in a yawn. “I’m tired. Get in and let us be on our way.”

He climbed in without a word. Naeun did this for him. She’d risked her life to give him this information. Naeun knew this scroll was the key to saving their homeland; she’d died getting it to him. He would make sure her death was not in vain.

Thankfully, Sookmyung’s exhaustion kept her from speaking too much. It gave him time to think without her incessant interruptions. By the time they reached the house again, he’d jumped out of the palanquin and stormed off. This sign of resentment made her call after him, but he did not hear her. He did not care. Her voice only irritated the rage brewing inside him. Let her beat him tomorrow, if she wishes. Tonight, he had more important concerns.

As expected, the only light in the house was the moonlight coming in through the windows. He suspected his brothers already ate and retired to their rooms. Good. He did not wish to be disturbed. Rushing into his chambers, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, he didn’t realize someone was already there until he’d shut his doors.

“Hongjoong?”

Seonghwa sat on his bed, reading a book by candlelight. He’d changed into a long tunic, and tied back his hair from his face. He stood up the moment he spotted Hongjoong’s puffy eyes and wet cheeks. In the safety of his embrace, Hongjoong sobbed hard. He clung onto his lover’s broad shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscles, and sobbed against his shoulder. Everything that transpired in the past few hours crashed onto him and only Seonghwa’s soft shushing and back rubbing soothed his cries. Quietly, he let Seonghwa remove his clothes, but not before Hongjoong withdrew the scroll.

“What is this?” Seonghwa asked in a hushed whisper, seeing the scroll.

“Naeun,” he explained, taking a breath, “This is what she wanted to give me.”

Seonghwa nodded in understanding, then stood by as he broke open the seal. In thin writing, Hongjoong saw a message scribbled:

‘Han Sookmyung is not King Siwon’s only living heir. The person who gave us this information will meet you in the palace temple at noon tomorrow. They will ask you what you pray for today. We pray for home. We pray for Wonju. For Wonju, we serve.’

Seonghwa and Hongjoong stood there in silence. The words marinated in their minds, and he still had difficulty believing them. Hongjoong reread the message again. ‘The person who gave us this information…’ A person? What ‘person’? Nobody in particular came to mind immediately. It also seemed borderline insane to write the starting line. Changbin seemed confident that nobody else but Hongjoong would read it, if he so brazenly wrote this down.

He was confident because he’d sent it with Naeun.

“Another heir?” Seonghwa gaped. “Could it be?”

“There is only one way to find out.”

“You will meet this informant of theirs, then?”

“I will. I must."

He slipped into bed, and surprisingly, Seonghwa joined him. “And I will go with you," Seonghwa said, pushing hair from his face.

The two men curled beside one another, enjoying each other’s warmth and presence. His last thought, as he drifted, was of Naeun’s dying words.

“For Wonju…”

***

A/N: thank you so much for the love and feedback I got from some people! I wasn't sure if people would like a historical au, but I love them so I wrote one lol I hope you guys liked this one, and please feel free to like and reblog <3 spread the love <3

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez reader #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #seongjoong x reader #matz x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #pirateeznet

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ddejavvu · 7 months

Note

Hi i love your sirius/remus x animagus!reader,,, can you please write james potter x animagus(squirrel) reader?

James always carries nuts such as acorns and sunflower seeds to give her🥹❤️ just pure fluff please

made me think of that one new girl scene where nick opens jess's bedside table and finds her night peanuts

When Remus is instructed to fish James's scarf out of 'his bedside drawer', he reaches for the top one. Because of course he does, because who is asked to open someone's bedside drawer and chooses the bottom one? Of course James meant the top one, otherwise he would have specified the bottom one.

He does not mean the top one.

Instead of knitwear, Remus finds a disastrous array of- nuts? Nuts and raisins and berries and seeds, for god's sake, in James's top bedside drawer. Loose. Filling the entire space.

He stands frozen, hand still clutching the knob to the drawer.

"James," He says, voice calm and cool, "Why are there nuts in your nightstand?"

Sirius snickers, makes some joke about 'forgetting to put them in his pants this morning', but Remus doesn't react. He can't react, he's petrified solid in his spot by the sight of James's strange collection.

"Oh, that? That's for m'girlfriend." James answers, like it's an explanation. Like it solves the problem, like it answers Remus's many, many question; 'Oh, right! His girlfriend, that makes sense. 'Cause she's a squirrel.

"Is she a squirrel?" Remus voices his thoughts aloud, tone bitter and tight.

James's shoulders tense slightly, raising towards his ears, and he nods slowly, "Uh, yeah, actually. 'Finished the transformation last week."

Oh.

"Oh," Remus's eyes are still roving over the heap of sunflower seeds and dried cranberries but he forces himself to shut the door, "So- so, what, she sleeps in there, or something?"

James laughs, a guffaw as he grins at Remus, "Don't be ridiculous, Moony, I don't make my girlfriend sleep in my nightstand. I've been taking a handful with me to class every day so she can snack."

Only James Potter would think that sleeping would be more ridiculous than scooping a pile of nuts into his pocket every morning before class for his girlfriend who can turn into a squirrel.

"Right." Is all that Remus can manage, and he goes through the motions of retrieving James's scarf from the bottom drawer this time, "Here's your scarf, Prongs."

"Thanks, mate." James nods, catching it when Remus tosses it in his direction. He's getting ready to head down to Hogsmeade to meet with you, and Remus briefly wonders if James already has a pocket full of raisins.

"You heading down with us?" James asks, watching Remus gather his jumper, slipping it on over the white tank he'd slept in.

"No," Remus shakes his head, stuffing his feet into his shoes and ducking his head as he beelines for the door, "I'm going to the hospital wing; All of a sudden I need a cure for a headache."

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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kokorose · 2 months

Text

Boy you give me the feels - OP81

Oscar Piastri x KpopTsunoda!Reader

Faceclaim: Momo (twice)

Summary: the one where Oscar is dating Yuki’s older sister.

A/n: yes I know Momo is one of the older members in twice but it’s my story so she’s now born in 1999.

Happy late Valentine’s Day

Pics: Pinterest

Yn_Tsunoda posted:

📍seoul, South Korea

Liked by YukiTsunoda, PierreGasly, LoganSargent, nayeonyny, OscarPiastri, jennierubyjaneand 345,728 others

Yn_Tsunoda: 🌸

Tagged: 🐨

See all 12,728 comments

YukiTsunoda: 🤮

User1: omg

User2: omg she’s soft launching!!!

LoganSargent: 👁️_👁️

User3: LOGAN?!?

User4: what’re a bunch of f1 drivers doing in Yn’s comments and likes???

User5: she’s the older sister to one of the drivers.

User6: WHO?!

User5: Yuki Tsunoda, he drives for Alpha Tauri

User6: okay that explains him and Pierre in the comments and likes but not Logan and Oscar!

User5: Oscar’s been in her likes for about a month and a half now.

OscarPiastri posted

📍Melbourne, Australia

Liked by LoganSargent, LandoNorris, FernandoAlonsoOficial, YukiTsunoda, DanielRicciardo, YnTsunoda, and 674,738 others

OscarPiastri: I want to see every sunrise and sunset with you

Tagged: 🐻

See all 15,728 comments

LoganSargent: Dude… at least give me photo credit

OscarPiastri: fine 📸: LoganSargent

User5: awwww this is so cute

User6: omg Oscar that caption!!!

LandoNorris: Mate, save some romance for the rest of us.

YukiTsunoda: 🤨

User7: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!!!

User8: wait, wait, wait, the gf looks familiar

User9: you know what… I’m feeling it too

YnTsunoda posted

📍monza, Italy

Liked by OscarPiastri, Nayeonyny, YukiTsunoda, LoganSargent, LiamLawson, and 525,729

YnTsunoda: Sushi and Ice Cream kinda night.

See all 12,728 comments

YukiTsunoda: the sushi is the best looking thing in the post 😁

YnTsunoda: and I’m the best looking in the family

PierreGasly: 😂

User10: I love the Tsunoda siblings dynamic

User11: pure chaos

OscarPiastri: 🍣🍣

User12: OSCAR!!?

LandoNorris: ew fish

YnTsunoda: Lando… I’m Japanese…

LandoNorris: still it’s not right

User12: what is going on here?!? She knows Lando!!

OscarPiastri Posted

📍Tokyo, Japan

Liked by LoganSargent, YnTsunoda, LandoNorris, FredVesti, ZhouGyuanyu, YnTsunoda and 563,839 others

OscarPiastri: I love Japan

See all 23,728 comments

LoganSargent: now that’s just disgusting behavior

LandoNorris: 🤮🤮🤮

User13: not the boys ganging up on Oscar😂

User14: She was there?!

FredVesti: she’s waayyy cooler than you!

User15: I swear I know that face from somewhere!!

YnTsunoda Posted

📍Suzuka

Liked by OscarPiastri, YukiTsunoda, Nayeonyny, LilyMuniHe, franciscacgomes, and 636,739 others

YnTsunoda: Suzuka quali+ family

See all 20,829 comments

YukiTsunoda: at least he can cook, you’re last one couldn’t. Mom told me she likes this one.

User16: shots fired shots fired

User17: drag that old man’s ass Yuki!!

User18: not Yuki coming for Heechul’s old ass.

LilyMuniHe: It was wonderful meeting you!!

YnTsunoda: it was wonderful meeting you too!!

Franciscacgomes: my favorite pretty girl 🥰

YnTsunoda: ❤️❤️

User19: is that… Oscar? I swear to God that’s Oscar.

OscarPiastri posted to his story

Seen by YnTsunoda, LandoNorris, LoganSargent, LiamLawson, AussieGrit and 78,839 others

OscarPiastri: Pre-race snack

Replies:

YnTsunoda: made with love❤️

LandoNorris: is it fish

OscarPiastri: no it’s chicken you muppet

User20: that’s so cute.

User21: omg!! His girlfriend’s so cute!!

F1Gossip posted

Liked by User, User, User, User and 247,739 others

F1Gossip: Possible Wag Sighting!!

Kpop singer Yn Tsunoda has arrived at the Japanese Grand Prix. She’s here supporting her younger brother Alpha Tauri driver Yuki Tsunoda at their home race here in Suzuka.

But…there’s been speculation she’s linked with McLaren driver Oscar Piastri. The two have been in each others likes and comments over the past couple months and fans of both are wondering if they are each others mysterious partner.

Could she be our newest wag?

See all 5,738 comments

User22: Omg!!!

User23: That’s Oscar’s girlfriend?!?

User24: it’s just a rumor

YnTsunoda posted to her story

Seen by YukiTsunoda, OscarPiastri, PierreGasly, LandoNorris, DanielRicciardo and 627,728 others

YnTsunoda: Ozzie’s first f1 podium!!!

Replies:

OscarPiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

YnTsunoda: So proud of you baby!!

LoganSargent: Yes Mate!!!

LandoNorris: baby’s first podium

User25: omg!!! Omg!!

YnTsunoda posted

📍qatar

Liked by OscarPiastri, LandoNorris, LoganSargent, YukiTsunoda, DanielRicciard, AussieGrit, and 1,268,738 others

YnTsunoda: Proud girlfriend moment!!! I’m so proud of you!!! I love you ❤️

Tagged: OscarPiastri

Replies:

OscarPiastri: Thank you baby!!

User26: OMG!!!!!

User27: awwww

AussieGrit: That’s our boy!!!

YnTsunoda: ❤️

LandoNorris: THATS MY BOY!!!!

LilyMuniHe: cuties

User8: I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!!

OscarPiastri posted

📍Austin, Texas

Liked by JYPEntertainment, LoganSargent, YnTsunoda, LandoNorris, AussieGrit, YukiTsunoda, and 1,728,829 others

OscarPiastri: She gives me the feels. Love you babe

Tagged: YnTsunoda

See all 32,729 comments

YnTsunoda: 🥰🥰🥰

User28: awww

User29: The twice lyrics 🥺🥺

User30: He went to her concert 🥺

YukiTsunoda: welcome to the family Oscar

OscarPiastri: thanks Yuki

User31: This relationship has been JYP approved.

#oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 #formula 1 #op81 #op81 fic #oscar piastri x reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

Hii love! Can you write ‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you.’’ with JJ Maybank?? Thank you❤️

I miss my boy JJ <3 Only three weeks until we see him again!! Who is excited for the new season?

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

Being stranded on 'Poguelandia' made you realize how you took many things for granted — especially your morning croissant and coffee — and the privilege of a hot shower and a soft pillow.

When you’ve lived your whole life in comfort, it’s hard to suddenly have nothing. When you escaped the boat with the rest of the pogues, you didn’t think you would come across an inhabited island and have to stay there for a while. It’s only been five days and you were starting to feel like the two kids in The Blue lagoon.

Everyone was in survival mode and helping in any way they could. You and Kiara had built a shelter for the night, Sarah and Cleo had gathered wood and some small fruits while the boys made good use of their fishing skills…and a makeshift spear.

It also made you reevaluate things. Like your relationship with JJ.

You had broken up shortly after Sarah and John B. were declared dead, both too emotional and heartbroken to be in a relationship. The ‘death’ of your friends had caused a massive crack in the group. Even the relationship between Kie and Pope had its hard moments, but unlike you and JJ, they were still together.

‘’I still love him. I never stopped,’’ you confessed to Kiara one late night on the beach while everyone was asleep.

Your eyes were on JJ, watching him sleeping soundly after sending your heart into panic earlier that day. Doing stupid shit was typical of JJ, but when he jumped from that cliff and he didn’t come up to the surface immediately, you got really scared. After almost drowning and definitely having a minor undiagnosed concussion, you could barely stand not having your eyes on him.

Kiara laid her head on your shoulder. ‘’I know.’’

Everybody knows.

If JJ had not been there, surviving on the island would’ve been harder. He was the sunshine in your life, always there to turn your grumpy frown into a smile after you had the worst sleep of your life and sand in places where sand should not be.

You’ve spent a lot of time together on Poguelandia, looking for coconuts and cracking them, teaching you how to catch a fish or watching the stars on nights neither of you could find sleep. It was nice to be close to him again.

But it wasn’t close enough.

‘’Can I eat that?’’ you asked, standing by a small bush of wild berries.

‘’If the berries are white, yellow, and green, don’t eat them,’’ JJ said, not even looking at the berries you were talking about. ‘’Some red berries are poisonous too, so be careful. If you eat a harmful berry, there could be great consequences. Red berries are roughly 50% safe to eat. And, if they are in clusters, they’re usually bad.’’

You nodded. Noted. ‘’Can I eat this one?’’

Growing up on the wealthier side of the island, you didn't know a lot of surviving tips. You didn’t even know how to pierce a coconut. Fortunately for you, JJ was there to help you out.

A small chuckle left JJ’s lips and he came over to you, checking the berries and plucking one from the branch. ‘’Open up, milady.’’ He held the small fruit before your mouth and you allowed him to feed it to you. ‘’If it taste weird, spit it out.’’

He was kidding. JJ would never let you eat a poisonous berry. He only said that to mess with you.

A call of your and JJ’s name made you whip your heads around to hear Pope saying the girls were swimming by the rocks and he and John B. were going to fetch more wood to make a fire tonight. You gave him a thumbs up and they left through the tall trees.

You plucked more berries from the branches, trying to calm your screaming stomach. Your body was not used to the small portion of food a deserted island had to offer.

While you were eating, JJ was trying to gather his words together. You hadn’t talked about what happened on the boat when he got knocked over, about when you saved his life. It was a difficult thing to think about and everyone respected your silence, but JJ wanted to thank you. If you had not jumped overboard and kept his head above water, he probably would have drowned.

‘’I…I didn't tell you, but what you did on the boat was brave as fuck,’’ he started, shifting his feet in the sand nervously. ‘’Jumping overboard like that? I wish I could've seen that.’’ A smile curled on his lips, imagining for a moment. ‘’Thanks for saving me.’’

When you saw him in the water, face down and not moving, you didn't hesitate and leaped. You would do again if you had to.

‘’Next time someone swings at you with a machete, you duck. I don’t want to play superhero again.’’ Your eyes welled up with tears and JJ pulled you against him. He didn't smell like weed and teen-boy deodorant anymore, just salt water and sweat, but he embrace still felt like JJ.

‘’I’ll try to remember.’’

‘’I almost gave up,’’ you confessed against his shoulder, ‘’but I wasn't going to abandon you. If you go down, I go down too.’’

JJ tightened his hold around you. He felt so lucky to have you in his shitty life.

You slipped your hands through the haphazardly cut holes of his shirt and spreading your fingers on his back. JJ went soft under your touch, his head falling into the space between his shoulder and neck.

‘’I don’t care we broke up, I still love you. I always will.’’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @katsukis1wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank x y/n #Outer Banks #outer banks jj #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow

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onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

tipsy • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, drunk/tipsy (consexual) sex

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), multiple orgasms (reader), wee bit fingering, banter, unprotected sex and cumming inside, and them just being tipsy drunk and so sickeningly in love 🤢 as always pls lmk if i missed smth

WC: 3.5k

A/N: thank you for your utmost patience @katetattoolover 🥺❤️ I hope this finds you well and you enjoy this, I adore you <3 as this is a request, there isn't a taglist FYI my tagging lovelies 🫡 anyways I think I lost my touch but I hope y'all enjoy this after not posting for a hot second

"What's two minus one?"

"… One?"

"Yeah, you're my number one and the love of my life."

Drying off your face, you sneak a peek at your boyfriend staring intently into the large mirror of your shared bathroom. "Are you flirting… with yourself?"

He gasps, affronted. "No! 'm in a very committed relationship with someone special, thank you very much. Can't you see?"

When his arm waves vigorously to the side, all you can do is stick your tongue out at your own reflection he's gesturing toward. "Yep, that's me!"

"No, you're a figment of my imagination trying to seduce me. Kept staring at me all night, 'm not stupid."

"That's 'cause you're hot."

He was. Seokmin's best look was a white dress shirt and jeans. And the way he kept loosening the buttons as he relaxed further into the evening with more and more glasses of alcohol made him all the tastier. How could you not stare at the man that was all yours?

"You're a demon," your partner continues to grouch and then turns to face the real you with a very, very serious look on his face. He's lucky you're just starting to sober up enough so you won't accidentally burst into laughter, at least cognizant enough of his feelings that were extremely fragile at the moment. "Now this is the real thing."

Brushing back dark wet bangs with your fingers, you can't help but smile when he leans into your touch. "I'm just a thing?"

"No! You're more than a thing… you're… you're…"

You can practically see the gears struggling to turn in his brain. "This is why I told Jeonghan to stop topping off your glass 'cause look at you now, baby, you're so drunk."

"'m not drunk, 'm Seokmin."

"Yes, yes you are."

"And I was excited."

"You were."

"And I'm so so so so proud of you."

You gaze into his shiny brown irises that hold galaxies of love for you. The same ones you kept meeting as they followed you around the room after Joshua pulled you away so the group could congratulate you properly for all of your hard work. Looking at you with so much pride and adoration that you returned, causing your friends to jokingly gag at how in love you both were. The beautiful eyes that crinkle up in a gorgeous eye smile when you've had a long day, gauging your movements with concern to try and provide whatever comfort he can.

Those lovely and familiar orbs now look like they might shed tears at any moment.

You pat his flushed cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I just love you lots."

"I love you too, Seok, so don't cry." You stagger back when he buries his face in your neck, thrown off by the sudden weight because you're still a little tipsy yourself.

"'m not crying."

"Maybe we should go lay down now?"

He nods and releases you from his grasp — thankfully — and you can't help but chuckle at the mixture of water and tears that shine on his skin. After wiping them away, you take his hand in yours and lead him into the bedroom.

"Why don't you seem drunk?"

"'Cause someone kept drinking from my glass."

"I'll beat their ass."

You quirk an eyebrow at him teasingly. "So you'll beat your own? Kinky, didn't know you were into that."

His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he shouts, "That's because!", before clearing his throat and repeating quieter. "That's because 'Han kept filling it up when you weren't looking."

"Yeah, he was a real gremlin tonight, probably had everyone drinking double what they should be while Cheol and Gyu only enabled it by splurging on a crap ton of alcohol."

In the end, no one really meant any malicious harm. They wanted to celebrate with you and Seokmin at your house, bringing over a truckload of food, drinks, and a vast amount of different shit only twelve men plus their partners managed to get their hands on. Still, over half of them had passed out before midnight and it took well until two in the morning for the entire crew to sober up safely and leave a little bit ago.

Even the waters you and Seokmin had been sipping on since didn't alleviate the buzz that still rang in your ears. However, that didn't really matter as you tumble into bed together. It was soon drowned out by muffled giggles and eventual light snores when you both dozed off.

You wake up not much later, feeling extra warm. The covers have all ended up wrapped and tangled around you. Seokmin must be feeling the same, the robe he'd had on earlier discarded on the floor. Shirtless, his bare back facing you is illuminated by the moonlight slipping through the curtains. As if under a spell, you can't help but reach out and trace light circles along his shoulder blades with your nails.

"You up?" he asks and turns to sleepily smile at you when your movements halt, "hi."

"Hey, you."

"I'm hot."

"Yeah, you are."

"No," he pouts, "I'm like super warm."

After placing a hand on his forehead, a frown slightly turns your lips downwards because he is heating up, sweat glistening at his hairline. "Are you feeling okay? Here, let me go get you — "

"Stay," a warm hand grabs at your arm before you can move away, "make it better."

"That's what I'm trying to do, doofus."

"Mhm, but you know how you can help me, right?" Seokmin brings your fingertips to graze along his chest with a lazy grin. "You'll make me feel alright again, yeah baby? Do it for me?"

He's released his grip but your fingers continue to trail downward, snorting as his smirk grows wider. "If you wanted to get sucked off so badly, all you had to do was ask."

"I did tho, didn't I?" His eyelashes flutter when you start to play with the waistband of his boxers. "I was a good boy, right? You always know what I need."

It's a little ironic, really. Although you're simply teasing each other, it's very rare for your boyfriend to give in to his own wants and needs, even during sex. He's a pleaser, a giver, and a dedicated lover. So, it's no surprise to feel an overwhelming ego boost when he's pliant beside you, asking sweetly for your touch with puppy dog eyes no one can resist.

"You're always so good to me," you assure and lean to peck at his lips, minty breaths mingling together. Then you're marking his jaw with kisses that trail down his neck, underneath his pecs, past his abs, and lower and lower until you're sliding off his boxers. "Gonna treat you like you deserve, baby."

His soft "thank you, love" melts into a desperate whine when you finally unclothe him and wrap your hands around his cock. It lies hot and heavy against your palm causing you to instinctively lick your lips, jaw already aching. Meeting his lidded gaze that's simply waiting for your next movement, you can't help but giggle when he raises an eyebrow at the mischievous way you smile before blowing lightly at his hardening length.

"Hey!" Seokmin yelps, hips jerking up in shock, "what was that for?"

"Just cooling you down, babe."

"Don't tease me," he huffs in indignation before lifting his pelvis up on purpose, brushing the head of his cock against your bottom lip. "Please."

When the love of your life begs so sweetly like that, who are you to resist? Licking the smear of precum left behind ignites a hungry spark that glints in your eyes — and you give into what you both want.

Your tongue eagerly laps up the leaking salty excess as your lips wrap around his sizable girth. Alternating between sucking, licking, swirling, and even grazing your teeth carefully along the underside of his cock as you work him deeper and further into your mouth. It's sloppy and pornographically loud. No rhyme or reason with the way your brain is still muddled with the faint buzz of alcohol and sleep, mixed with a lot of good, horny feelings.

Seokmin loves it best that way… if his whimpered praises are anything to go by.

"God, baby, look how gorgeous you are like this. Treat me so well always, love you so much, shit… best thing that ever happened to me."

Head thrown back to display how his Adam's apple bobs when he feels the way your throat constricts around the tip before you pull off slightly. His hips unapologetically take on a mind of their own, gently thrusting back and forth to hear more of those pretty gagging sounds you make for him.

It feels too good and he's afraid he won't be able to stop. Seokmin knows you'll tap his thigh if you need a break but you're as far gone into it as he is. Moaning freely, pussy clenching painfully around nothing, and drooling saliva that leaks all the way down his balls. You don't want him to stop, crazed by how he's using you like his perfect little toy to get off.

But he pulls away all too suddenly — mainly to let you breathe — but before you can reach back out to take him into your mouth again, he's pulling you up by your shoulders. Stealing your breath again but this time with a kiss. Gently soothing your abused mouth with soft licks and pecks, humming in contemplation.

"This what I taste like?"

"Mhm, pretty yummy, huh?"

Your boyfriend thinks it's sexy that you like it but — there's something he obviously enjoys more. "It's alright, I guess… I prefer having you on my tongue instead, though."

You should've known what was coming next but you still squeal in surprise when he's urging you out of your sleep shorts and underwear. Muttering something about "gotta eat this pretty pussy out" before he's commanding you to sit on his face.

You're a little caught off guard by the delay of his pleasure but all you can do is obediently position your thighs around his head, slipping back into the standard mode of operation that Seokmin usually revels in anyways.

One of your hands flies out to support your weight, gripping onto the headboard while the other threads through his bangs because your man might be a little too excited to stick his tongue inside.

"Aw baby," he practically growls, "look at how nice and wet you are from just a little sucking on my dick." The vibrations cause you to shiver and you feel his lips quirk up in a devious smirk at that. "Cute."

His tongue runs along your folds with little kitten licks paired with harsh sucks. He's awfully eager for someone who has eaten you out many times before but that's simply because he's addicted. The groans Seokmin makes put your earlier noises to shame. You might've been embarrassed if your own loud moans weren't drowning him out.

"Fuck, Seok… you're so good at this," you pant and rock your hips, grinding down just a little.

He grunts in approval, appreciation, and acknowledgment. It's more than true. Even when he was new at giving oral, his efforts and features made up for whatever uncertainty he held.

You would continue to suck him off while he ate you out if possible. But the way his nose brushes and nudges against your clit just right as it always does… you've never thought to switch up positions. What a shame, really.

It takes everything in you to lean back. Seokmin is none the wiser, thinking you're only shifting in the heat of the moment for more enjoyment until your hand fumbles for his cock behind you. He jolts at your touch, tapping your thigh. You struggle to lift up, barely any strength thanks to your trembling thighs.

"What're you doing?"

"Wanna jerk you off."

"Yeah?" he snickers, naughty fingers stroking your outer pussy lips to gather up your wetness before slipping inside to replace his tongue for a bit. It's the absolute fear of potentially crushing his windpipe that prevents you from ultimately collapsing (and maybe the strong hand on your hip). "But I wanna feel you wrapped around me and I don't mean your hand."

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you challenge. As if the smirk on his face doesn't exist when you clench tightly around his three fingers at the mere mention of his cock inside you. They curl up to brush against the bundle of nerves that causes you to writhe in pleasure.

Seokmin watches you with a lazy grin. Although love always shines in his eyes, lust is overtaking that wholesome glimmer with a carnality that has you shaking without even reaching a climax yet. He knows this and relishes it.

"What am I doing about it? Hmm, I think I'll have to make sure you cum at least once so you can take my dick properly. Gotta loosen you up, like the loving boyfriend I am." His fingers begin moving at a rapid pace, taking you by surprise. With a squeal, you nearly drop right down on him. "Isn't that right, baby?"

"Ah…. yes!"

He nudges you forward a little bit, satisfied with your response. Pulling his hands away from your body completely, you feel the bundle of nerves snap just as he releases his grip. Your orgasm hits the minute Seokmin's lips meet your lower ones and you both moan in tandem. Loud enough to rival a porn star when he starts sucking like a heathen and laps up the wetness that spills out of your hole with your release.

You clamber off of him — very ungracefully — and flop down on your side, trying to catch your breath. "You're insane."

"You love it."

"Just because you think you're right, doesn't mean you have to say it."

Seokmin grins and licks his fingers clean before they softly cup your cheek. When he turns to face you, his cock slaps lightly against your thigh, reminding you he hasn't cum yet. But he's in no rush, leisurely kissing you before it deepens and you taste each other on both of your tongues.

"I'm always right," he mumbles, tongue brushing across your lips, "because you do taste the best between the two of us."

You slap his arm. "Stop!"

"You didn't deny it so I win."

"Do you want to fuck around and not have sex or would you rather I go to sleep?"

"Now, now," he chastises sweetly and nudges you so your back is pressed tightly against his firm, broad chest. "Be nice, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes. "I can't with you, oh my go — "

But your "Omigod" changes from annoyed to breathless when his large, warm hand fondles your chest while the other teasingly nudges the tip of his cock between your folds.

"What were you saying?" Seokmin mocks in a sickeningly sweet voice but you can only moan in response. "Uh-huh, that's what I thought."

He's tortuously slow. Although, it's not entirely on purpose. He's still too out of it to have the energy to change positions and even as much as he enjoys watching you bounce yourself silly on top of him, he figures you don't have the strength to do so.

But this is somehow even better. You gasp, feeling every single thick, long, big inch of him enter you while pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs once he's bottomed out. The two of you stay still like that, simply reeling in the emotional connection — emotionally and quite literally — wrapped in one another's warmth. "My love."

"I adore you. Sometimes. More often than not."

He chuckles. "Is that so?"

After a while, you're wiggling your hips and signaling to your boyfriend that he can move if he wants to. You're honestly impressed with his control, wondering how long he plans on prolonging his raging boner. Not that you're complaining. You're more than happy to cockwarm him at any time around the clock. But it has to be slightly painful to stay hard for that long.

Seokmin's thrusts aren't rushed but they're by no means set in a smooth, consistent rhythm, betraying his desperation. It might just be the alcohol canceling out any sharp movements and it makes you consider having sex a little bit more often this way. Indulging in an open-mouthed kiss that's equally as relaxed and sensual as his pace, you could almost fall asleep again in the most delicious way.

But of course, Seokmin is having none of that.

"You can give me one more right, baby?"

"Mhm."

His hand leaves your breasts, easily finding your clit. Playing with it languidly, just enough that you're buzzing with anticipation but not enough to tip you over that edge quite yet. Your partner likes to think that he knows your body extremely well by now. And he thinks he enjoys finding out how you respond in this position, pressed against him in such an intimate way.

He loves eye contact, the expressions you make on your pretty face, the way you grip and mark up his back and biceps with your nails. But now, Seokmin can feel how you tremble in his arms, the tiny shift in movements when you unconsciously grind your ass across his abs every time you take his cock deep inside your perfect pussy. Fingers tugging on the tiny hairs on his neck, encouraging him to nibble on the top of your shoulder.

And when — oh, god — when you release the grip on his strands of hair and place your hand over his that's remained stationary the whole time on your hip bone, interlocking your digits together — he thinks he might cum on the spot.

Both his balls and heart are heavy and full of an incredible amount of love for you. He admits it repeatedly in your ear, thrusts turning more into a sloppy, erratic mess as he gives into chasing his high.

"Adore you so much, god, you're everything to me. You know that right?"

You grip the bedsheets with your other hand when you feel yourself start to jostle and slide upwards at his movement. "Love you too. So much, baby."

"Can you cum for me one more time, my pretty love? Soak my dick so I can fill you up nicely?"

"Yeah, I can. I can do it."

Your tongues tangle again, this time with a bit more aggression as you both help each other reach that peak. You reach your second climax first, not as intense as before but enough that you're clenching so tight around Seokmin and dripping down his aching cock as asked that he has no choice but to finally snap and let go.

The sounds he makes are pussy-fluttering, a breathy, drawn out moan directly in your ear followed by a low, satisfied grunt. His hips never falter until every drop is spilled inside, filling you up just as he promised. It's as warm and thick as the alcohol working itself out. You feel drowsy and sated in the best way possible.

Your dedicated, hard working lover must feel the same because he hasn't moved. Of course, he hasn't let go of your hand, body clinging to yours, softening cock still inside you as he sighs in content and nuzzles your neck.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he doesn't let go. "Seok, we need to clean up."

"'m tired."

"Well, Mr. Sleepyhead, we can rest after."

"We already showered, though."

"A cold one will make you feel good." Despite the way Seokmin still feels extremely hot to the touch, little goosebumps prickle along his skin at the mention of a cold shower. You pat his forearm. "I'll help you wash up."

"Okay."

It's a relief he acquiesces, knowing it would be difficult to escape his grip if he decided not to budge. His cheeks are still flushed cutely but you have to snort at the way his skin manages to glow so handsome and perfectly with that after sex, post-orgasmic effect.

"No shower sex," you threaten.

He pouts. "I dunno what you're talking about. 'm literally too tired to even move. Who knows, you might be the one to jump me."

"I would never! Besides you're the one who's always surprising me but either way you're going to have to get up." You roll over and stand, pulling at his arm when he refuses to release his grasp on your hand. "C'mon, babe."

"Alright, alright." He's about to make a comment of how energetic you are until he sees you wince and limp a bit toward the bathroom. You know he knows but choose to ignore his smirk. "Does sex help prevent hangovers?"

"I have no idea but I've heard it's supposed to help with headaches."

"Let me know if you have one tomorrow."

"Seokmin!"

"'m just saying."

"You're gonna fuck me either way. But we're sleeping in, it's already like five in the morning."

"You're right. On both accounts."

You hand him a glass of water with a scowl. "You can be so annoying."

"But you love me."

"Lucky that I honestly really do. Now come here so I can wash your hair."

"Yes, yes right away, love."