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#reflecting off falling snow
torchickentacos · 1 year
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Literary devices, how I adore you... allusion, colloquialism, alliteration, metaphor, simile, juxtaposition (!!!!!!!), anntithesis, foreshadowing, imagery, symbolism, personification, irony, hyperbole???? All amazing.
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godzexperiment · 7 months
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hc + ⛄ for a season-themed headcanon
Thematic Headcanons. A series of subject-specific headcanons you can ask your favorite blog and muse.
Nix actually surprisingly adores winter; despite the literal toxic to him cold temps and all sorts of other reasons for him to not enjoy it much. The snow, ice allures him as much it deals him damage. Mostly though it's more acceptable behavior to be in an thick giant blanket engulfed. Or fall asleep on the vents when the heat is running. Fires are ~seasonally~ appropriate. It's not so odd if he's wearing multiple layers. Looks pretty, fun weather etc.
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queenpiranhadon · 1 month
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𖤓⎸⎸ 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⎸⎸𖤓
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A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune
Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it
Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader
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“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 
But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 
The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 
He could take you down in seconds. 
Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 
And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 
Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 
And yet you didn’t back down.  
Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  
‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  
People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  
He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 
You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  
With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  
Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  
Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 
Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 
The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  
“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 
Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin. “I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 
You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 
Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  
You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  
Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  
You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 
He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain. 
“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  
You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  
He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 
You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  
Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 
He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 
And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  
*** 
When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  
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wyniepooh · 5 months
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Snow
snow rarely falls in district twelve. but when it does, it always takes something, or someone away with him.
peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district!reader. reader meets snow at the hob in district twelve. Written with blonde buzzcut white tee blue uniform and dog tag in mind ofc. In which reader peaks an unhinged corio’s interest post lucy gray… whether it’s a pure or toxic interest is up to u babe (but it’s meant to be a lil toxic okay).
“You can’t be here if you’re not gonna dance. Or drink.”
A flash of blonde swished towards you, so bright it seemed to reflect even under the dim light.
“excuse me?”
You chuckled as you stepped into the corner he was hiding in, hopping onto the stool and grabbing two pints of the watered-down beer before sticking an arm out. his arms remained crossed, eyes focused on into the bubbling liquid.
“Oh, come on, mr. peacekeeper. You’re off duty. I won’t tell,” you teased, winking with a chuckle.
his lips thinned in an attempt to smile, but he finally grabbed the glass from your hand. you took a sip, using the opportunity to scour the quiet man in front of you. peacekeeper, obviously. if the classic blue uniform and dog tag didn't give it away, the buzzcut identical to an array of people in the room certainly did.
Although, his hair was a brilliant shade of blonde, white, almost, forcing a separation from him and the rest of his comrades.
you set your cup down, wiping your mouth with the frilly sleeve of your dress. "so, why aren't you dancing?"
he opened his mouth, then closed it. you raised your eyebrows, chuckling lightly at his wooden expression. "well?"
He sighed. “I’m leaving this district tomorrow. I've been reassigned to district two," he finally spoke. "I'm here because they," he swiped a hand over at the men behind him, "wanted to celebrate. I don’t… care for it."
you blew out an annoyed breath, rolling your eyes lightly at his response. his eyes squinted, silently assessing the way you gulped down the last of your drink and the way in which you brushed your tongue over your lips.
"you're looking at this all wrong..." you paused.
"coriolanus."
you grinned, "...coriolanus."
you hopped off the wooden stool, patting down your fluffy skirt. "you think they have bars like this in district two? you think they have beer, music, and dancing like this over in that fancy district?"
"well, I assume-"
"Well, stop assuming,” you ran your hands through your hair, staring into his blue eyes as you strode in his direction. “And simply live. You never know what might happen. tonight's your last chance to celebrate in the best district there is, corio. your last chance to dance, drink..."
going on your toes be at level with his face, you stepped even closer, close enough to smell his freshly washed shirt and feel his slow breaths on your eyelashes.
"...kiss," you whispered. the corners of his lips perked up ever so slightly, his blue eyes glossy from the flickering candles. you backed away with your eyes still locked together, only looking away when you slotted your way into the expanding dance circle in the middle of the room.
you laughed and yelled as you twirled and tapped your feet, linking arms with the seamstress you always see at the supermarket, holding the hands of the baker that always snuck you an extra muffin. when the lively music finally came to an end, you instinctively looked in his direction-- but he was no longer there, cup still half full on the worn-down table.
Wiping your forehead with a cloth, you panted as you opened the door leading to the outside. you relished in the cool breeze, feeling an immediate relief from the humid dancing quarters. you looked to your right, and there you spotted the same shimmering blonde hair, the same shiny blue eyes making their mark on you.
your feet were moving before you even realized. when you neared him, he looked down at you with an unexplainable gaze in his eyes, hands clenched by his side.
you opened your mouth to speak, but your words never got a chance to escape. In one moment, you were close enough to touch the brick wall in front of you with your hand, and in the next, your back was up against the prickly surface.
He inhaled sharply before he pressed his lips against yours, his fingers skimming your chin as yours grazed the back of his head. you couldn’t help but smile at the bitter taste of beer still on his tongue, pushing his head harshly against your mouth while you relaxed against the wall.
his lips lingered on yours for a long moment before he pulled away.
"snow," he breathed against the flesh of your lips.
you scoffed, still dazed and breathless. "what?-"
"coriolanus snow."
you slowly reached for the silver tag dangling around his neck, turning it around to observe the cold metal. "if you ever come to the capit-"
"I am never going to the-"
his hand came up to clutch your hand, which was still latching onto his chain tightly. "if you ever come to the capitol..."
pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand danced along your waist while he pulled your chin closer to him again.
"come find me.”
-
a/n: hey guys... did I just write a pic about president snow? yeah I did. I would like to formally apologize to katniss, finnick, peeta, johanna, etc and suzanne collins I’m sorry but I’m just a girl
Btw everyone I’ve only ever seen the movies n have never read any of the books (shame on me ik but I’m planning on it) so pls excuse any inaccuracies in setting, timeline, etc, etc.
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serpentandlily · 7 months
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Untouchable V - Azriel x Reader
Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨
Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.
Warnings: angst, suggestive situations
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V
➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part V
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not when she was wearing those leathers that clung to her frame, highlighting her body from head to toe. Not when she had her wings out, her beautiful, magnificent wings. 
She was so effortlessly stunning. The most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He knew no one would ever come close. No one had ever quite captured his attention like she had. His own personal forbidden fruit.
Every night he thought of her as he touched himself, of what it might feel like to have her, to claim her as his. The noises he would draw out of her. How beautiful she would look with a flushed face and swollen lips. 
And every morning he thought of what it might be like to wake up with her in his arms, for her beautiful smile to be the first thing he saw every day. He wanted that more than anything, more than even sex. He just wanted her.
A large hand clamping down on his shoulder jostled him from his thoughts. Cassian stood next to him, his lips pressed into a thin line. 
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop now,” he murmured under his breath. “Rhys looks seconds away from murdering you.” 
Azriel’s eyes flashed towards his High Lord, now noticing the piercing stare directed his way. Fuck. Had he been so obvious? He needed to get a hold of himself. It had gotten harder and harder to ignore his feelings for Rhys’s sister after she had confessed to feeling the same way about him. 
His eyes went back to watching the female Illyrians go through their training exercises. That's what they were here for after all. To check on their progress. Not to ogle at the High Lord's sister in her tight, enticing leathers. 
"He acts like her godsdamn father," Azriel hissed, unable to stop himself. 
Cassian gave him a troubling look. "He practically is, Az. He had to raise her himself since she was thirteen."
"And?" Azriel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's not thirteen anymore."
"Yeah, I can tell you've noticed," Cassian bit back, crossing his own arms as he stared at his friend. Azriel felt like rolling his eyes. It was enough dealing with Rhys and his overprotective nature. He didn't need Cassian to join. 
"Oh, fuck off. I'm just pointing out how ridiculous he is when it comes to her. She's nearly three-hundred. Do you remember all the shit we got up to at that age?" 
"No, I won't fuck off," Cassian snarled, unusually serious for once. "You're walking a very fine line, brother. It doesn't matter how old she is. He will always see her as that thirteen year old girl he found covered in their own mother's blood in the snow.”
“I was there too you know,” Azriel muttered, darkly. “I was the one that found them, the one that scared off Tamlin’s father and brothers.”
Cassian’s eyes softened. “I know, Az. I know. And I know how much Rhys thanks the Mother every day for that. But we made a promise to him, remember?”
Azriel scoffed. Of course he remembered. That day would always haunt him. He hadn’t even known at the time what exactly he had been giving up. 
“What are you trying to insinuate, Cass?” He glared at his brother. He could feel his shadows getting riled up behind him—a reflection of his mood. 
“I know you, Az. And I know that look on your face. You want to get your dick wet—go find some other female to stick it in,” Cassian murmured under his breath. “Stay away from Rhys’s sister. He might love you like a brother but he won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you touch her, if you hurt her in some way.” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel replied, his face slipping back into a cold mask, his voice flat as he stared down Cassian. 
But Cassian only shook his head at him, patted him on the shoulder, and walked away, muttering a small prayer to the Mother under his breath. 
Azriel went back to observing the Illyrian females. If Rhys was so fucking concerned about him messing with his sister, than he could excuse him from his duty as her guard. 
Besides, none of it mattered. As long as that tattoo was on his body, it didn’t matter how he felt. He couldn’t touch her. And she would never be his. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Ever since that night in the study, you and Azriel had kept your interactions to the bare minimum. He was still your personal guard, which meant you couldn’t just stop seeing or talking to him while doing business in Hewn City. But the wound was still fresh, your heart was still aching, so it hurt just to be around him.
You had put off answering the Prince in hopes that Azriel would start making sense, would give up on whatever weird notion he had in his mind that he couldn’t act on his feelings for you. But he had offered you no more answers to the millions of questions you had. Had refused to even discuss it any further, so there was nothing you could do but move on. 
Which is why you and the majority of your family were in Vallahan. Rhys and Prince Cedric had exchanged some correspondence back and forth and while you weren’t accepting any marriage proposals any time soon, you weren’t completely opposed to getting to know Cedric more. 
So the Prince had invited you, your brother and a few of his courtiers to visit King’s Cross in Vallahan as his esteemed guests. Rhysand had brought along Feyre, of course, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta. Since Mor was already familiar with the faeries here, she had stayed back with Amren to run the Night Court while you guys were away.
Elain has also stayed back to watch over baby Nyx in Velaris with Nuala and Cerridwen. Some of the Valkyries had agreed to act as guards for the River House as well, to ease Rhys and Feyre’s minds. It was the first time they were leaving Nyx for longer than a day. But they didn’t want to bring him into foreign territory—especially not one across the seas. 
You had just finished getting ready for the first formal dinner here, deciding on wearing something from the Night Court instead of something in Vallahan fashion. You didn’t want the Prince getting any ideas that you had made up your mind.
The dress you put on was a dark, midnight blue. It fell to the floor, two slits on either side to show off your legs. The top was cut into a deep v and ended right below your breasts, connected to the skirt with leather straps that criss-crossed over your stomach. 
You left your hair down and opted for minimal makeup. Just the usual kohl around your eyes and a dark red lip oil. You looked at yourself one more time before stepping out of your room and into the quiet corridor. 
Azriel was already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite in his black Illyrian leathers. His expression was dark, his hair tousled with some pieces falling on his forehead. He looked up at you as your door closed shut behind you. You watched his eyes trail over your form, bringing some color to your cheeks.
You started making your way towards the dining chambers, Azriel following a pace behind you as your official guardian. You felt his shadows caress your thighs, cascade down to your feet. You clenched your fists in frustration.
“You cannot deny me and still try to have some claim over me,” you hissed under your breath. “Take your shadows back, Az.”
“I am your guard.” You heard his dark voice from behind you. “And they are simply helping me. It is for your protection, Princess.”
You whirled around at him with a glare. “That’s bullshit and you know it!” 
He stared at you with that cold, unfeeling face that only riled you up further. “You can think what you want, Princess. But I am only doing my job.”
You stalked towards him, pushing him back with a finger to his chest. “Send them away. Now.”
“No.”
You released a noise of frustration and pushed him against the wall. “I mean it, Azriel. I’m done playing your stupid games. Call your shadows off.”
“You’ve never had a problem with them before. Why now?” He stared down at you, unflinching. He flipped you so it was you pressed against the wall now. “It is for your safety so you will deal with it.”
“I hate you,” you growled, pounding a fist against his chest weakly. It was one of the biggest lies to ever come from your mouth but Gods, you were just so frustrated. 
Azriel leaned down, his hair brushing against your temple. “Hate me all you want, Princess. But if being your guard is the only way to keep you close to me, then I will be the best damn guard in all of Prythian so your brother has no choice but to let me stay near you. The shadows stay.” 
“You won’t have me but you won’t let me go,” you whimpered. “How is that fair, Azriel? You said you don’t want to hurt me but this…this is far worse than you rejecting me and moving on.”
“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he hissed back. “I can’t stay away from you, Princess, no matter how hard I try.” 
Your heart was pounding in your chest and you opened your mouth to shout at him, to scream and cry and demand he leave you alone but another voice cut you off.
“What’s going on over here?” 
You both froze as your brother’s voice traveled down the corridor. You turned your head to see him standing at the end of the hallway next to Feyre, his arms crossed as he stared intently at Azriel, who immediately took a step away from you. 
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the weird tension between the two males. “My earring got caught in my hair,” you lied. “Azriel was helping me untangle it.” 
Rhysand didn’t look convinced but he finally looked at you. His face softened and he held out his free arm, the one not linked with his mate. “Come, little dove, walk with me.” 
You scurried past Azriel, not sparing him a glance, and took your brother’s arm, letting him escort you to dinner.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You tried to suppress your yawn but it had been another hour of being dragged around the castle by the Prince and you were so tired. He seemed happy to give you a tour, a tour you swore you had already taken the first time you were here, so you obliged him. But now you just wanted to go back to your chambers, take a nice warm bath, and go to sleep. 
Your family departed from Vallahan two days ago, after spending three days here. You had extended your trip to the end of the week by the Prince’s request. Part of you did it to spite Azriel who seemed to detest Cedric and the other, miniscule part of you was genuinely curious about the Prince. But he was turning out to be a total bore. Nice, but dull. He lacked the sort of dry wit you liked in others. He was also extremely soft—too soft. As if he had never had to fight for anything in his life. 
“Are you tired, Princess?” Cedric asked, noting your yawn. Before you could even answer the question yourself, he continued. “I only have one last area to show you. I promise I saved the best for last.”
You gave him a half-hearted smile. “Okay, lead the way.”
He extended his arm out to you and you placed your hand in the crevices of his elbow. He led you out of the library he had just been showing you back into the hallway. Azriel trailed behind you, along with one of the Prince’s personal guards, Lasos. Cedric had insisted that the pair of you didn’t need guards whilst together, but Azriel had swiftly rejected that notion and Lasos had joined after realizing that Azriel wasn’t going to let you two be alone. 
You didn’t care. If Azriel wanted to be a brooding asshole, then you would let him. You weren’t forcing him to watch Cedric court you, he was doing it all on his own. And maybe you had acted a little extra flirty with the Prince just to rub it in Azriel’s face. If he didn’t want you as his own, then he would have to watch you be with another. 
“This is the Queen’s quarters,” Cedric announced as he came to a stop in front of two large double doors. “This is where my future wife would live.”
“The Queen lives separate from the King?” you questioned as he pushed the doors open, revealing a lavish sitting area. The walls and floor were made of white marble like the rest of the castle, gold embellishments decorating the interior. 
“If she chooses to,” Cedric smiled. “This is simply a space for her to have all to her own, to use for whatever she wishes. There is a similar area in the main castle where my parents live. My mother uses it as a music room.” 
“That’s lovely,” you replied with a bow of your head. 
Cedric went to close the doors before either guard could enter, but Azriel quickly stuck a hand out and stopped him with a glare. “It is improper to be behind closed doors with an unwed female,” he growled.
You wanted to roll your eyes. Since when the hell did the Night Court ever care about that? Cedric’s eyebrows rose but he gave the shadowsinger a nod. “Of course, my apologies.”
You turned your back to them, not interested in watching them have another one of their dick measuring contests. It had been like that the whole week so far. Instead you walked towards the window on the other side of the room that overlooked the gardens. 
You nearly jumped in fright as two hands ghosted over your waist and a sudden presence was behind you. It wasn’t the first time the Prince had touched you, but it certainly was the most intimate. You had occasionally brushed hands, shared a kiss on the cheek, perhaps walked too close together, and shared some charged looks in the past couple days. 
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Cedric asked, leaning down to whisper in your ear. 
You blushed a bit at his closeness, swallowing before answering him. “Yes, the gardens here are gorgeous.” 
“Not quite as beautiful as you, though,” Cedric whispered, moving your hair to one shoulder. Your eyes widened as he pressed a soft kiss against your neck. And then another. His lips brushed against your ear and you gasped. “Never quite as beautiful as you, Princess.”
“Prince Cedric,” you mumbled. “We are not alone.”
He twisted you in his arms until you were facing him, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Lasos is my most trusted guard. I can assure you he won’t speak a word of our transgressions.” 
You peaked at the male in question from over Cedric’s shoulder. Lasos had already turned around, his back facing the two of you. But then you looked at Azriel to see him intently staring at you, anger in his eyes. You were reminded of a time like this only a few weeks ago. Except it had been you watching Azriel and Elain.
So when Cedric asked, “What about your guard? Do you trust him to keep your secrets?” You smiled as you continued to stare at Azriel, whose anger was morphing into rage and whispered back, “Yes.” 
And let the Prince crash his lips against yours. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You hummed to yourself as you brushed your hair, sitting at the vanity in your guest room. You were surprisingly feeling a bit more light after your time with the Vallahan Prince. You two hadn’t gone any further than kissing, especially considering you were never truly alone, but it felt nice to be wanted by someone. You were a bit sad that your time here was coming to an end. 
Soon you’d be back home. Back to reality. 
You set down the brush and stared at your reflection in the mirror with a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if Azriel started up again with Elain. You had no idea if what he had told you was true because everything he had said to you that night had only confused you. In the few weeks since then, you hadn’t noticed them together but you didn’t exactly go looking for them—not wanting to see something that would further hurt you. 
He still made no sense to you. You had seen the way he looked at you, watched you, like a starved male. Seen the anger on his face every time the Prince so much as brushed his hand against yours. His behavior was just so confusing. 
You would be returning to the Night Court tomorrow after sharing one last meal with the Prince and his courtiers. You wondered if he would ask you then, about his marriage proposal. Neither of you had brought it up in the time you had been here but you hadn’t forgotten. But you didn’t want a marriage that felt like a contract. You wanted to marry someone you loved.
And you did love someone…just not the Prince. But perhaps you could.
Your eyes focused on the mirror in front of you as you noticed darkness forming in the corner of the room behind you…no, not darkness. Those were shadows. They whirled in a frenzy, spreading into your room.
And then there was Azriel, stepping out from them. His face was cut from stone, his hazel eyes darkened, his hair in disarray. But there was something different about him now…a heavy resolve in his eyes. You gasped and stood, spinning around to face him.
“Azriel, what are you doing here?” you breathed out.
He said nothing as he stormed towards you, his wings spread out behind him. Gods, he looked like a fallen angel. A creature of the night. So beautiful, but so lethal. You braced yourself against the vanity behind you. 
“Has Prince Cedric won over your heart then?” he asked, his voice as dark as his shadows. He didn’t stop until he stood right before you, so close you had to angle your head back to look at him. 
“What?” You were so confused. What was he doing in your room? Why was he asking about Cedric?
“Has the Prince won your heart, y/n?” He asked again. “It’s a simple question.”
Your eyes narrowed at his tone. “Don’t come barging into my room and act like an asshole. I don’t see why you’re so concerned about me and Cedric. It’s none of your business.”
“It is my business,” he growled. “As your guard—”
“Oh please,” you snapped. “Me and you both know you’re not asking me about this because you’re my guard.” 
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then as your friend—”
“Is that what we are, Azriel? Friends?” You scoffed. “I don’t think you want to be my friend.”
“Just answer the godsdamn question,” he snarled, ignoring your remark. “And for fuck’s sake, stop letting these males put their godsdamn hands all over you.” 
“No,” you bit back, poking him in the chest. “This shit needs to stop. You know how I feel about you. You know and you’re the one who says we can’t be together. So stop acting like you have some claim to me, Azriel.”
“Do you think I’m happy about that?” Azriel growled. “Do you think I’m thrilled to fucking want you all the time and not be able to have you, to claim you as mine?”
A few frustrated tears escaped down your cheeks. “I offered myself to you. I was ready to give you everything, Azriel. My heart, my body, my mind. And you are the one who rejected me.”
Azriel grabbed the sides of your face and rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavily. “You make this so hard when you say shit like that. Please, tell me you hate me again. Tell me you don’t want me.”
“I-I can’t,” you cried out. “Gods, I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t feel anything for you. Why are you doing this to me, Azriel? Why?”
His eyes shut, his forehead still resting against yours. “Because…Because you’re Rhys’s sister. I can’t…We can’t cross that line, Princess. He’ll kill me.” 
“I am not just Rhys’s sister,” you argued. “I am my own person, with my own wants, with my own dreams. That is a bullshit excuse, Azriel. Rhys will understand. I will make him.”
“You don’t understand,” he sighed. But he stepped even closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you to the vanity behind you. His leathers were rough against your silk nightgown, and your body sang at his touch. 
“No, I don’t,” you breathed out, closing your own eyes. His scent was so intoxicating; his presence so overwhelming. You couldn’t think this close to him. Couldn’t focus on anything but your desperate need for him. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Azriel. To us. You said you never wanted to hurt me but can’t you see how much you are by doing this? By telling me you want me as much as I want you but denying us the chance to be together? Can’t you see how much it hurts me.”
“I don’t care anymore, Princess. I don’t care if it hurts you as much as it hurts me,” Azriel growled. “I’m done trying to be a better male. I can’t watch you be with other males, can’t watch them put their filthy hands all over you. Not when I want you as my own.” 
Your eyes blinked open, staring into the hazel ones already watching you. You could see the pain behind his own eyes, the longing, the want. They were a mirror to your own.
“So have me,” you whispered. 
You saw the break in his resolve just a second before Azriel crashed his lips into yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were stunned but as soon as you realized what was happening, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands sliding up the back of your neck into your hair as he deepened the kiss, so full of passion, so full of love. 
Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fire lit its course through your veins. Kissing Azriel was everything you had dreamed of and more. It felt perfect…it felt right. Like everything in the world had disappeared and it was just you and him. 
His hard arousal pressed into your stomach and you gasped at the feeling. He used it as an opportunity to flick his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, with a groan. His other hand slid down to your waist and to the backside of your thigh. He lifted you with one arm as if you weighed nothing and placed you on the edge of your vanity. The bottles of lip oils, the pots of kohl, all clattered to the floor as it shook under you at his ferocity. 
His hand slid back to your waist, yanking you closer to him as he pressed himself between your legs. You moaned into his kiss, electricity licking your skin. Azriel let out a growl at the noise you made, his lips pulling away to begin tracing kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tossed your head to the side, granting him more access as one of your hands slipped into his hair.
His nose grazed the column of your neck as he took a deep inhale, soaking in the sweet smell of you. “Say it again. Tell me you want this.”
“I want this, Azriel,” you breathed out, panting. “I want you. Have me. I’m yours.” 
He let out a low growl at your words and sank his teeth into your neck, at the spot of your pulse pounding. You gasped and his lips were on yours again. He let out an almost pained grunt, slipping his hand up your nightgown to grip the soft skin of your thigh. His hard length pressed against your clothed core and sent another wave of electricity up your body. 
He groaned again, his grip on you tightening. His fingers were digging into your skin, his other fisting your hair so tightly it caused a small whimper to leave your lips. The pain and pleasure mixed together to create a feeling you wished would never end. But then Azriel grunted again, his hold on you so forceful, you couldn’t help but wince. 
He pulled away from you with a pained groan. Your eyes shot open to see the male before you grimacing in pain. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Azriel…Azriel, what’s wrong?”
His teeth clenched, the veins in his arms protruding like he was trying to fight against something. You slid off the vanity to stand, running a soothing hand down his arm. That only seemed to make things worse and he crumbled to the floor with another grunt of pain. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs as he pressed his forehead against them, cursing. 
“Fuck,” he groaned in pain.
You knelt on the floor in front of him, grabbing his face with your hands. “Azriel, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” 
His hands covered your own and gently pried them off his face. 
“This…is…why,” he managed to ground out through gritted teeth, “why we can’t do this.” 
Your arms hung limp at your sides. “Azriel, I don’t understand. What’s happening?” 
He let out a painful sigh and sat back on his haunches, lifting his shirt up. You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell to his bare chest, tracing over the Illyrian tattoos that curled around until you noticed another, smaller tattoo. Not an Illyrian one. But a…bargain tattoo?
“Azriel? Is that a bargain tattoo?” you breathed out, bewildered. He nodded in answer. “I don’t get it. Why are you showing me that?”
“Your brother,” he grunted out.
“My brother what?” Your eyes flickered back and forth between his own, trying to understand. 
“He forced us…”
He trailed off and your eyes darkened. “Forced you to what?” 
“Me and Cassian,” he finally said, hanging his head down. “Years after, when you…when you finally matured, I think your brother saw the change in how I looked at you. I think he grew suspicious of my feelings towards you…and he didn’t like that, y/n. You were still just a kid to him…you’ll always be, Princess. And he made me and Cassian promise him that we would never touch you in that way, that anytime we touched you with less than innocent intentions, we would feel the pain of a thousand blades striking down on us.”
Your mouth dropped open, your eyes falling back to the tattoo on the side of his hip. At the Illyrian wings with a blade running down the center of them. Your brother had…What the fuck had your brother done?
“Cassian agreed without any hesitation, Princess,” Azriel continued, his voice full of sadness and regret. “And I knew if I didn’t, your brother’s suspicions would prove true. I knew he’d kick me to the curb, toss me out, if I didn’t. And I thought it was just a crush, something I could get over. So I agreed. But Gods, y/n, I’ve regretted that day ever since. Because it wasn’t just a crush. My feelings for you never went away. Which is why I tried to hide them in others.”
“I-I…” you choked out, unable to form words. This was the last thing you had expected. You knew your brother was protective over you…but to make his friends form an official bargain with him. “So you can’t touch me without…without…”
“Without feeling one of the worst pains I’ve ever known. He made you untouchable, y/n. To us. To me and Cass. It's why I tried to push you away, tried to make you think I wanted others. I couldn’t give you what you wanted, what I wanted.”
“There has to be a way to undo this, Az,” you whispered. “Maybe I can convince my brother to release you from it—”
“It doesn’t work like that, Princess, you know it doesn’t,” Azriel sighed. “Besides, he would never agree. If he knew I tried to touch you like I have tonight, he would sooner stick a dagger through my heart than ever allow you to be with me.”
“I will make him see how wrong he was for doing this, Azriel,” you said with conviction. “He was probably still traumatized by what happened to me…by what those males did to me. We just need to tell him how much we want to be together, how much—”
“It wouldn’t matter, y/n, don’t you see? Your brother might be the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, but even he cannot break bargain bonds. Even The King of Hybern needed to use the cauldron to do that.”
��I won’t accept this! I can’t, Azriel. Why should we have to! We want to be together and it's not fair that we can’t!” 
“I know, Princess, I know,” Azriel grimaced. “And I’m so sorry for making that promise. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I should’ve left you alone. I shouldn’t have ever—”
“No, don’t say it. I refuse to believe this is it. I refuse to believe we just have to live always wanting each other and never having it. There has to be another way.” 
“He did put one condition on it, one way to break the bargain. But…”
“But what? What is it?”
Azriel looked up at you, his hazel eyes filled with such longing it made your heart ache. “If we were mates…if the mating bond ever snapped between us, or between you and Cassian, the bargain would be completed.” 
But nearly three hundred years had gone by since then and…and a mating bond had never snapped between you and Azriel. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: omgggg I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! But now we all know the bargain Az made with Rhys soooo it's gonna be fun to see how this all pans out ;) are they mates? or will we have to find some sneakyyyy way to be together? who knowssss ;)
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kaidabakugou · 7 months
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𖤐 OCTOBER 14TH | "PRIMORDIAL CHAOS" 𖤐
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𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌! 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐗 𝐅! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
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♱ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴊᴀᴘᴀɴᴇꜱᴇ ᴛᴇʀᴍꜱ | ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ | ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴꜱ | ᴄᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟɪꜱᴍ | ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ | ᴅᴜʙ-ᴄᴏɴ | ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ-ᴘʀᴇʏ | ɴɪᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ | ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ/ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴋɪɴᴋ | ʜɪɴᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴋɪɴᴋ | ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ʙᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴜᴍᴍʏ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ | ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ | ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀꜱ ʟᴜʙᴇ | ᴛᴡᴏ ᴄᴏᴄᴋꜱ | ᴘᴜʙᴇꜱ | ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ | ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ | ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ | ꜱᴘɪᴛ | ᴀɴᴀʟ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴ�� | ᴅᴘ-ʙᴏᴛʜ ʜᴏʟᴇꜱ | ʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀʀꜱ ʙᴄ ᴡʜʏ ɴᴏᴛ?
♱ — 𝐖𝐂: 6.7ᴋ
♱ — 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: ᴀᴀᴀᴀ ʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀʟʟᴍᴇɴᴛ! ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇ! ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏʟ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʏꜱᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ!!♡
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𝕬 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖌𝖔,
𝖉𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕳𝖊𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕬𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕵𝖆𝖕𝖆𝖓.
The soft vibrations of crickets fill your ears when you reach the garden of the estate. The moon peering over the clouds illuminating your path as you descend the wooden stairs onto the stone walkway that leads towards the small bridge above the pond. The sound of the shishi-odoshi begins to tune out the rhythmic buzzing of the insects that surround the area the closer you get to it as you lean over the railing to look at the koi fish below, entranced by their bright colors and effortless motions before the soft pad of feet slowly approaching captures your attention.
One of the house maids ascends the bridge as she offers you the tea you requested upon your arrival, thanking her as you watch her retreat back into the estate, the yellow hair pin holding the strands from her face catching your eye before she disappears behind the wooden sliding doors. The smell of the warm matcha fills your senses as you bring the small cup towards your lips, feeling how it eases the ache in your muscles after returning from a long mission.
More and more cursed spirits had been terrorizing the nearby villages and in a desperate attempt of survival they called upon the neighboring towns for help, you being the eldest daughter of your clan you'd taken the initiative to gather some of the capable men and journey to the villages in need. Coming from a family of skilled sorcerers, your combat skills were unmatched, much to your father’s disdain who believed your focus should be to find an honorable man to be lawfully married to. The thought alone had your eyebrows creasing in discontent while you peered down at your cup, taking another sip of your tea to bury your thoughts in the back of your mind, a problem to be settled at a later time when you face your father after leaving on negative terms. Focusing on the warmth that filled your insides with each sip while letting the soft thudding of the bamboo against the rock along the flow of the water calm your mind.
Watching how the moon reflects against the green liquid before a small snowflake captures your attention, melting instantly into the warm tea followed by another and another as the first signs of snow begin to fall gently upon your skin. Closing your eyes to soak in their comforting touch, clearing your mind as you raise your cup again - but a scream echoes through the night. The loud shrill of a woman in the distance makes you turn towards the estate, frozen at the sudden silence before a loud crashing sound resonates through the whole area making the ground shake below your feet as you take off running into the building, grabbing the Tachi sword that was mounted on display at the main entrance when you sprint past it to the source of the commotion growing louder by the second.
Your breath gets caught in your throat when you reach the main garden, the once thick and fragrant cherry blossoms that adorned the entrance now destroyed as the flames consume it to the last branch, causing a cloud of smoke to devour its surroundings. A scream coming from within the estate makes you turn abruptly as you run back inside towards the source of the sound when you're met with the horrifying sight of numerous bodies of maids and cooks slaughtered and strewn around, mangled past recognition.
The loud crash of glass breaking has you pushing forward as you step over the bodies, their blood soaking up your feet while your hands clench around the hilt of your sword as you slowly remove it from its sheath. Rounding the corner towards one of the back rooms of the estate, you can hear the large thumps of something big moving around - something deadly with the amount of cursed energy that oozed through the area, it felt more and more suffocating with each step.
Just as you near one of the doors, you catch a glimpse of the intruder causing you to hide behind one of the columns in the hallway while you peek from the side into the room he's in. Only now noticing the trail of blood leading towards his position as the faint sound of wet crunching becomes more and more eminent - is he eating someone? You were no stranger to curses devouring humans, but this was something different. Something of this size, able to cause such calamity, was a monster. One that you needed to get rid of, and fast.
The sound of quick thudding pulls you from your thoughts as you peek around the edge again, a yellow hair pin catching your eyes, it was the maid from earlier. She stood frozen in the entryway where the monster was in, fearful of her life you begin to step out from behind the column to get her attention, but just as you do so, two extra limbs extend from his sides capturing her by the head as terrified screams rip from her. But they die down just as quickly when her skull caves in under the pressure of the clawed hands that crushed it with ease as her body hits the wooden floor with a sickening thud, a pool of blood forming right afterwards as the monster continues feasting on the body in front of him.
The bustling sound of multiple set of feet resonates through the back porch as the guards of the estate burst through the wooden doors causing the monster to ram through the wall of the room into the opening where the guards stood, allowing you to see the body of the person he was feasting on now discarded on the floor as it falls down into a pool of its own blood, its head rolling out onto the hall - it was your father’s. His face plastered with an expression that was unrecognizable to you, eyes wide and frightened, an emotion your father never showed in the life you knew him, always the hard and strong man that only wanted the best for his family despite your disagreements.
Your heart was racing in your chest, head throbbing as your hands curl around the hilt of your blade, looking over at the monster with seething anger where he's battling the guards, slashing them down with his claws one by one before he captures one in each arm. Taking the opportunity of all four of his limbs being occupied, you sprint over to the beast, dashing through the air for an added advantage against his towering figure, slashing his upper left arm swiftly before your feet slide along the bloodied floor as you take a defensive stance in front of him.
Now able to take him in completely you feel yourself falter slightly at the sight. Just like his arms, there are four eyes that stare you down as you both stand frozen in place. Black tattoos adorn his body with precise double bands on his wrist and biceps forming a circle and two segmented curves on his chest leading towards his partially open kimono revealing a mouth on his stomach.
The room falls silent, only the grunts and cries of the men struggling in his grasp echo through the space while you stare at each other. His expression unmoving as if still processing what just occurred, his arm bleeding out onto the wooden planks of the floor where it layed as it begins to slowly decay into ash while his shoulder gushes with blood. His eyes drifting to the tip of your blade as he watches his blood drip from the shiny steel flashing before him. Face suddenly crackling into a violent grin allowing you to see his sharpened teeth, gory and bloodied causing you to strengthen your stance when his eyes meet yours with a sinister glint.
The men in his grasp now mangled like the rest as he crushes them in his palms, bones breaking followed by the revolting squelch of their organs scattering onto the floor as he holds the remains in his palms, bringing them towards the mouth in his stomach as it opens wide. A long tongue lolling out between rows of sharp teeth stained with corpus as it quickly devours the fresh flesh before making a scene of licking the muscles around it as if cleaning its lips. Using it to regenerate as a new arm bursts through his shoulder, replacing the one you'd slashed as all four of them flex at his sides followed by a loud boisterous laugh.
“It's been a while since someone has given me a good fight”, his voice is smooth and rich yet booming, you can feel it vibrate against your chest when he speaks and it makes you swallow thickly while you hold firmly onto your sword.
“Do your best not to disappoint me”, he mocks. And with that he's moving, fast and overpowering allowing you only enough time to barely dodge him as you step to the side before one of his large arms could catch you, unable to avoid his sharp claws as they scratch against your thigh tearing through the fabric and breaking the skin just as you find enough balance to swing your blade across his back, barely injuring him as the wound quickly seals back up.
Facing each other again as he launches for you with an even bigger grin on his face as you manage to slide down between his legs before quickly slicing through his lower right arm and rotating the blade as you strike his back once more, this time with more force as it slices from his shoulder across to his hip, feeling the resistance of bones against the metal making you plant your feet firmly on the ground, urging the blade forward until its out the other end. Blood spraying in the wake of your attack as it stains your skin, drenching your clothes before joining the mess on the floor while you hold the blade at your side, confident that such a fatal blow would subdue the beast enough to bring him to his knees and administer the final blow.
Instead, he laughs.
Laughs and laughs and laughs as more blood gushes from his wounds and before you can register it, you're sent flying into the air so far back that your body crashes through the sliding doors of the garden before colliding with the wooden gate past the pond that divided the estate from the forest. Launching himself through the air right after as he falls above you, ground shaking from the force as snow and dirt scatter in his wake, shoving you down deeper into the ground as he presses himself against you roughly while the blood from his wounds drips onto you, bathing you in it as you notice where your blade pierced all the way through the front of his chest and down to his stomach where the mouth has ripped apart.
Maniacal grin on his face as he leans down onto yours, the rotten stench of blood filling your senses before his tongue swipes against your cheek to lap at the blood on your skin, wet and violating as he hums in delight at the taste. You struggle against his figure but the sharp sting of claws digging into your sides holding you down force you to stay still as he leans over to lick from your neck towards your other cheek before drifting upwards into your hair, deeply inhaling your scent as he hums again, this time followed by another laugh.
“Oh, you certainly did not disappoint”, he laughs whilst leaning down to press a kiss to your bloodied cheek before sucking the skin in between his teeth, harshly releasing your delicate skin to lean down onto your neck and unashamedly take another inhale, raptured by the sound of your heart almost beating out of your chest against his ear and he can’t help the way his fingers twitch at the excitement building within.
“You…”, lifting a clawed finger unto your face to brush away the stray hairs that cling to your skin while he circles his large hand around your head, settling on your nape as he holds you tightly in his grasp, allowing you to fully see his face as your eyes dart along the tattoos decorating his skin, matching the ones on his body before settling onto the second face melding into his own where his eyes rest one atop the other. “...will make a wonderful hunt”, he adds as his tongue slides across his lips, like a predator savoring his prey before digging into them.
The fear in your eyes only fuels him further as he laughs while lifting himself up to his full height, bringing you up with him with your feet dangling in the air before shoving you back onto the cold snow as you struggle to catch your footing before taking off towards the woods, the wet sound of flesh melding together and bones reconstructing themselves getting tuned out by the heavy snow that darts through the wind as you disappear past the tall trees and into the dark forest with only the moon to illuminate your path.
The Tachi is long forgotten in the snow as you push yourself to run despite the ache on your body, every muscle screaming at you to run faster knowing that the second you stop, it will be all over. The cold air entering your lungs felt like it was piercing your insides as you sprint between the dark looming trees, cursing to yourself when your clothes get caught on unexpected branches, tearing the fabric and scratching at your skin while you focus on staying on your feet when the cold from the snow starts nipping at your skin making it almost numb.
But the further you venture into the forest, the eerier it got. No longer able to hear the faint buzzing of crickets, no owls hooting into the night on the crowns of trees, no foxes coming out of their dens in search of their prey before it gets too cold to hunt. Nothing. Only the whistling of the piercing snow squall around you, causing you to slow down as you lean against the nearest trunk. Dread settling into your gut as you stand frozen in place with your ear pricked for any odd sounds, the tension suffocating you while your head darts in every direction where you are barely able to see anything a few feet away from you.
The sound of a distant twig snapping causes a nauseating pit to form in your stomach as your eyes dart around the area, desperately trying to find the source of the sound as fear settles deeper and deeper into your bones. Screaming at you to run knowing you were unarmed and your cursed techniques were no match for this beast even if you tried. He would devour you before you even tried.
Snap.
The sound of another twig snapping sends a sharp chill up your spine as the air gets caught in your throat. The sound came from above you.
Your blood runs cold as you shakily push your head to look upwards. Your knees threatening to give out under you when your eyes are met with four glowing red eyes stalking down at you through the fog followed by the deadly glint of sharp canines flashing down at you. Like a spider creeping up on its prey when it gets caught in its web.
You push yourself from the tree trunk, scurrying on your feet as you try to get away from the terrible fate that awaits you. But a sharp pain erupting from your side has you wailing in agony as you get thrown off balance, tumbling into the freezing snow as you roll through the clearing of trees before your back gets pressed into the ground once more. Every inch of your body aching as you scream and thrash against the heavy weight pushing against your body. The sounds of sinister laughter filling your ears again as it echoes through the dark forest, causing tears to cling to your lashes before they spill past your cheeks.
“Shhh don't cry”, he coos as the wet warmth of his tongue hits your cold skin when he licks the tears from your face.
“You did so good”, another lick against your neck has you wriggling in his grasp.
“As a matter of fact, you did so well that I think you deserve a reward.” The booming sound of laughter vibrates every nerve in your body as it clashes with your screams when his claws rip away the last layer of clothing protecting you from these harsh conditions. Banging your fist against his chest in a final futile attempt to get him off of you before two of his arms trap yours underneath them as he drags them through the snow to rest above you and hold you down with only one hand as the other lowers to your face, sharp nails brushing the hairs out of your face gently as you try to jerk away from his touch. Suddenly gripping your throat tightly as he forces you still, crimson red eyes searing into your glossy ones in a silent threat to calm you down.
I like it when they put up a fight…”, he begins before his face falls into a scowl. “...but don't think I won't kill you before having my way with you and leave you here for the wolves to finish.”
You force a gulp down your throat where his large hand is pressed, constricting the airflow as you feel yourself starting to get light headed from the pressure. Noticing how his eyes trail down your body, fully exposed to him as you watch how both of his mouths lick their lips simultaneously, savoring the view as he openly devours you with his gaze.
The tongue on his stomach extends unnaturally long until it falls flat against your abdomen - wet and heavy as it wriggles carelessly against your skin. Dripping inhuman amounts of spit as it coats you in a warm and sticky layer of saliva while the tip stretches towards your exposed chest, your nipples already erect under the cold touch of the snow as his tongue circles the buds all while he watches you from above. Head tilted to the side with a pleased grin while fixated on the way your skin feels against his large tongue, occasional humming vibrating in his throat each time the limbs holding your figure rake their sharp nails along your skin causing shiver after shiver to flow through your flesh.
Laughing when his eyes trail up to your face, noticing how you try your best to contain the sounds of pleasure that threaten to escape you the more the large wet muscle drags against you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your voice. An unapproving scowl forms on his features as he lowers himself to hover above you, caging you beneath his monstrous figure before you feel his tongue slowly descend from your chest, past your abdomen and onto your exposed cunt causing your legs to twitch in an attempt to close them but his lower arms hold you open as his hands grip around your ankles. Caressing them slowly and teasingly while occasionally adding pressure in what almost felt like a possessive act, unable to contain the urge to mark your skin as his own as each jerk left a new scratch against your skin causing more blood to flow from your wounds.
Meeting his gaze as his grin grows large at the glare on your face, noticing how you're struggling to maintain it with each swipe of his tongue through your folds and he can't help but to be more amused at the fighting spirit within you. His canines aching with the need to taste you when the thought of breaking such strong resolve flows through his head as he lowers himself to sniff along your face like an animal before leaning down against your neck, the hot touch of his breath against your skin has you closing your eyes as you try to relish in the small warmth that it gives you in contrast to the freezing cold that surrounds you.
But a sharp sting makes you jerk against his frame. A scorching shiver flowing through your body at an overwhelming pace engulfs you completely when he buries his teeth to your side - deep enough to graze bone as you dig your nails into the palm that holds you prisoner, unable to contain your sounds any longer as mewls escape past your lips. Blood upon the snow as red begins to spill from the wound and into his mouth, drinking it greedily while you feel it pool beneath you. Smiling against your skin when he hears the sweet sounds of your voice as he drinks from you more brutally before tearing his maw away. Dripping in red as he tilts his head back, gulping it down followed by a delighted grunt rumbling deep in his chest while his eyes close in thought as if drowning the rest of his senses to only focus on the savory taste of your blood against his tongue and feel how the warm liquid travels down his throat to settle into his stomach.
The tongue on his stomach lapping at your pussy with newfound enthusiasm as if it too could feel the taste of your blood against it and you can't help arousal that starts to gather on your entrance, mixing with the slobbers that hung and dripped in frothy ropes from its mouth as the wet sounds became more and more loud.
Enough to pull the monster above you from his blissed trance as he peers down to your core, tongue lolling out to swipe along his fangs while his eyes slowly trail up your body to meet your gaze again before his features contour into a delighted yet crazed smile that made his eyes glow sinisterly causing you to gulp down the drool collecting in your mouth as you watch him slowly inch closer as he lowers himself onto your face again. Inhaling deeply before swiping his tongue along his lips, cleaning the blood that remained there.
“You might just be…”, he lowers his lips onto your cheek again to gently suck on it while his sharp teeth ghost along your skin and lean back until it slips from his mouth before leaning back down to rub his cheek against yours.
“... Different from the others.” The smooth skin of his face feels almost gentle against you as if providing a false sense of security only to feel the sickening stinging of his fangs sinking into the already broken flesh of your neck once more as a scream rips from your throat.
Sucking on it messily before pulling back as he holds the thick liquid in his mouth while trailing down your body. The tongue from his stomach ceasing its rapid licks as it retreats back into its mouth causing it to reveal the two erect cocks that stood bulging against what remained of his kimono. One of his large hands rises to unfasten it, fully revealing their lengths to you, long and veiny with oozing tips ready to sink inside your heat.
Kindle eyes meeting your widened ones as you watch him unhinge his jaw over them as blood starts to flow from his mouth and onto his cocks - your blood. Warm and sticky with the mixture of drool as it drips along his lengths and onto your messy skin until the last drop of blood flows from his mouth before lowering himself onto you. Dragging them along the length of your pussy with a loud squelch as he teased you with them while still staring deep into you, soaking in the way your expression falters with each jolt of pleasure that sends through your body each time the thick creamy tips of his cocks catch your clit, swollen with need as it grows more and more sensitive with each swipe.
A low laugh rumbling in his chest when he feels your thighs begin to shake against his frame, the hands that were gripping your ankles now dragging their sharp claws along your calves, circling your thighs before resting on your hips where they carelessly dig into your meaty flesh to hold you in place while his large frame spreads your legs wider when he presses against you more.
Lowering himself to cage you beneath him again while his free limb reaches down between your bodies, gripping his lower cock before aligning himself with you while the other rests atop your clit. Causing you to tip your head back, pressing your skull against the snow when the protruding head enters your pussy sending a burning rush through your body as it stretches you open for him the deeper he sinks into you before slowly leaning back to thrust forward again. Not giving you enough time to adapt to his size as he gradually increases his pace.
Booming laughter followed by a guttural grunt echoes through the vacant forest for only the moon to hear as she peers down at you through the snowy clouds, the only one to bear witness as you descend deeper into the overwhelming mixture of pleasure, anger and fear as the very beast that butchered your family has his way with you. Unable to contain your cries and moans as they flow freely from you the more he pounds into you, the cock resting above you rubbing quickly against your clit while drips and spurts of creamy white splatter onto the hairs above your heat.
His free hand rubs along the base of the cock thrusting in and out of you as he collects some of the messy mixture that rings around it with his fingers before guiding them up towards your mouth, pressing your lips closed in a show of defiance as the sharp pointed tip of his claws pricks at the delicate skin of your bottom lip, breaking the skin causing a small bead of blood to trickle down your chin.
He lowers himself with a deep grumble, amused at your will to still fight against him despite your current predicament as he presses his lips to your other cheek, rubbing them against your skin down to your ear where he sucks the lobe into his mouth before puncturing it with his fangs enhancing the deep roar of his voice that makes your senses shake from the intensity.
“OPEN.”
Your resolve dissipates from the overwhelming power that vibrates with his words as you open your mouth to him while his digits slip inside with ease, pressing down against your tongue as the coppery taste of your blood immediately overpowers before the array of different flavors follows suit. The sharp salty yet burning taste of his arousal contrasting the velvety sweet taste of your own, the viscous and fleshy taste of umami from his saliva, the vile and rotting taste of the gore still clinging underneath his claws from the previous carnage. All of it hits you in a flash as it drowns your senses when he sinks his long fingers deeper into your throat causing drool to pool at your mouth when you gag around them. Watching you with a gratified look before sliding his fingers back until just the tips are hooked to your bottom teeth, the point of his claws poking at your tongue forcing your mouth agape.
“There you go”, he coos. “Taking me like the obedient whore you are”, eyebrows frowning in anger when the degrading name reaches your ears as you meet his gaze in discontent to which he only laughs followed by a sharp thrust of his hips that causes you a shiver to travel along your spine as he buries his cock in your wet heat all the way down to the base before the arm that was holding yours above your head releases you.
Brushing through your hair to grip at your scalp, keeping your head still to look up at him while he peers down at you whilst you drag your arms down through the snow before reaching up to cling against his large frame. Your muscles feel slightly numb from the pressure of his strength when they flex to dig your own nails into his flesh, the faint sting feeling almost comical as a breathy laugh blows from him, its warmth hitting your skin as it makes your eyelashes flutter from the proximity.
“I think you're just about ready to take me whole, don't you?”, tilting his head to the side as his eyes fixate on the way drool collects at the corners of your mouth while he holds it open.
An obstructed “what?” begins to vibrate in your throat but it's quickly interrupted by the thick weight of his spit hitting the back of your tongue as you struggle to swallow with the digits that still pry your mouth open. The same digits that quickly slide along your bottom lip to circle around your cheeks, his palm pressing into your chin and before you can register it, his lips are on yours. Hard and demanding paired with the smooth yet imposing feel of his tongue swiping along your teeth before pressing it against yours, pushing his spit deeper into your mouth as it mixes with your own until you no longer can resist the urge to swallow - oddly hot and impossibly sticky as it struggles down your throat while the wet muscle slithers out of your mouth with a satisfied hum, leaving thick and stringy threads of saliva connected between you before it curls back into his own allowing you to take sharp gulps of cold air again.
Another confused protest builds in your chest but that gusting laughter of his quiets your voice as he quickly removes his cock from you, sharp canines only flashing brighter when he feels your pussy constrict around him trying to pull him back inside before it slides out with a slick pop as bloody strands of arousal stretch between your bodies.
The feel of sharp claws digging into your hips sends a burning sting across your skin before your no longer peering up at the moon, flipped over as you knees dig into the icy snow followed by your elbows when he presses his weight against your back, his warm skin against your cold flesh as one of his arms travels from your hips and along your torso curling around your neck to pull you back and press you further into him. Feeling how one of his cocks twitches against the dip of your spine while the other rubs hard between your thighs as it leaks onto the snowy ground.
Another set of claws trickles down the center of your spine, slow and calculated until it curls around your rear to grasp at it with more vigor, giving it a firm shake before reaching down to rub against your cunt as he collects the mess that drips from your pussy onto his palm whilst he drags his digits through your folds - slick and swollen from only taking one of his cocks as his touch has your eyes rolling into your skull. Feeling how he rubs his palm up towards your puckered hole to coat it with your release and blood before pressing his thumb around the rim, using the messy slick as lubricant to stretch your rear open as his thick digit breaks through the first ring of muscle making you fist the snow below with a groan at the initial sting.
A content hum vibrates from deep in his chest against your back as his thumb pushes deeper into you until its fully nestled inside before removing it slowly to introduce another finger, gradually spreading your hole open until you're able to take four of his long digits with ease as the squelch of his fingers toying with your insides causes your thighs to quiver while he nuzzles his nose at the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin when he feels you tremble beneath him.
Removing his digits as webs of slick stretch between his fingers when he reaches for his cock, guiding it from your lower spine to align with your gaped hole before slowly thrusting inside, the thick head sliding in with ease after being stretched and you can't contain the moans that spill from your lips when the cock resting between your thighs simultaneously presses against your clit sending jolts of pleasure through your body with each jerk. Gradually shoving more and more of his length while his nose hovers above the wound on your neck, oozing fresh blood as he takes a deep inhale before you feel the hot touch of his tongue lapping at the crimson liquid. Slowly licking around the surface where his fangs pierced the skin as he brings his lips down to the opening, encouraging more blood to spill into his mouth while the sound of his gulps echoes through your ears.
The hand that was spreading you open suddenly curls around your front as his lips detach from your skin whilst you feel the digits around your neck twitch against your skin, holding you in place as you watch him spit the viscous mixture of saliva and blood into his hand before it disappears from your sight. A jolt erupts from your body when you feel it press against your cunt, rubbing the slimy liquid through your pussy as his digits spread you open while sharp claws ghost along your sensitive skin with each motion causing something to twist in your gut.
Reaching for the cock between your legs as the one in your rear eases its pace, coating it with the remaining slick in his hand as he gives it a few pumps before you feel the large tip rub against you, throbbing with each swipe as wet noises fill your ears again the more it collects the mixture of bloody spit along with the arousal dripping from your pussy onto the thick head of his cock as it presses into your entrance making you squirm against his grasp when it pushes into you. Already feeling impossibly full with the cock buried deep in your ass, but the feel of claws threatening to rip through the skin of your hips forces you still as they hold you in place whilst the hand around your throat twitches again as his tongue returns to the wound above your shoulder.
The overwhelming feel of everything at once causes your jaw to slack against his touch as moans continue to spill past your lips the more his length sinks deeper into you. Spreading your pussy open on him as the cock in your rear throbs against your tight insides, moving in par with the other. You feel your breathing become more labored as you lift one of your hands from the snow to clutch onto the one around your throat, his skin feeling hot in your touch as your ears pricked at the sound of low rumbles erupting from deep within his chest when his cocks nestled fully inside your warmth, the vibration spreading across your skin where your back met his chest as his nose trailed up to your hair. Inhaling your scent before slowly pulling his hips back, the thick veins on his lengths rubbing through the velvety walls of your core making you gasp at the sensation until only the tips remain inside as all 20 of his fingers press deeper into your skin when he thrusts his hips forward again with a loud wet squelch that clashes with the purring emitting from his chest whilst your entire body flushes hot in contrast to the cold that surrounds you.
Tears welled in your eyes the more he quickened his thrusts, driven savage as he splits you open on his lengths whilst your blood eases his vicious pace against you. Stuffed beyond limits whilst the sweet sound of your moans only fuels him further as he feels himself get closer to his release. Teeth aching with the need to bury themself deep in your flesh as he sinks them into the side of your neck that remained untouched, now bloodied and ripped as your skin gives away under the force of his hungry maw. Gore spilling into his throat as his purring becomes wet with your blood as a groan builds in his throat when he feels you gush against his cocks, withdrawing from your neck to peer down between your bodies - crimson stained grin spreading wildly at the sight as he fixates on the way your holes stretch around his lengths leaving a thick creamy ring of arousal at the base that he can't resist to taste as the tongue on his abdomen extends to lap at the mixture.
A content groan resonating through the loud vibrations of his chest as he lowers himself to press against your back again, the fingers at your throat flexing on your skin as he tilts your head back to look at him. Admiring the sight of you covered in the mixture of his blood and yours whilst you cry out in pleasure and pain with each powerful thrust of his hips - something snaps within him. Something he thought was long past buried and forgotten as he feels it stir deep inside of him. Something primal and carnal that has the pace of his hips faltering when he meets your gaze. Eyes that were previously filled with ravenous rage, now drowned in exhilarating pleasure - yet a hint of defiance remains, staring directly back into his own when no other would've even dared to allow the thought to enter their minds.
And the action has him erupting in a maniacal laugh that makes the snow clinging to the branches of the trees that surround you come crashing down, but he pays no mind to it as he regains the strength of his thrusts, fucking you open anew until his cocks are swelling up inside your heat before a final jerk buries his lengths deep in your warmth. Rope after rope of thick cum filling your insides as a searing heat spreads through your core, making your holes tighten around him causing the both of you to curl into each other at the overwhelming sensations that are running rampant through your bodies.
Lapping at the blood dripping from your neck in slow, unhurried licks while he soaks in the feel of your pussy pulsing around him, greedily milking him till the last drop and he can't help but smile against your mangled skin before lifting himself to lean back as his lower arms reach for your cheeks, spreading your rear as he slowly starts to withdraw from your body. Creamy ribbons of cum already seeping through the sides of your tight holes whilst you whimper at the feeling when it drips down your thighs into the snow below. His cocks popping out of you with a loud squelch and his eyes glow at the way your asshole gapes from the imprint his size left on your along with the steady flow that gushes from your pussy and he resists the urge to plug you up again and keep you full and bred for him.
Instead you feel claws travel up your sides before they curl around you, now facing him as he stands at full height with you in his arms as your exposed cunt drips onto his abdomen for his tongue to lap and the mess. Feeling a sudden warmth at your back as he shields you from the snowfall with his kimono whilst he begins to walk further into the looming forest.
“I think I'll keep you for a little longer.” He whispers against your cheek, lapping at the blood staining your skin before wrapping his palm around your chin, claws digging into you as he forces you to look at him. Searing crimson staring deep into your blissed ones before breaking into a malevolent grin as you feel his digits dig deeper into your flesh, threatening to split you apart at the thrill building within from all the thoughts running through his head. For he's never had a prey quite like yourself.
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revasserium · 3 months
Text
waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)
zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne
summary: he has never loved the winter
a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.
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He has never loved the winter.
But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.
“Look! It’s snowing!”
Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —
He clears his throat.
“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.
You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.
“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”
He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.
“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.
Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”
You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.
“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.
Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.
“Alright, what do you want?”
You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.
“What do you mean?”
He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.
“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”
He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.
“Huh?”
He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.
“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”
He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —
“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.
“Yes, really. Are you coming?”
You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.
“I’m going to choke!”
“Better that than for you to get sick again.”
He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.
“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.
“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —
“I know you.”
* * *
He has never loved the winter.
But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.
You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.
He wonders if you know.
He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.
“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.
“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.
The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.
“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”
He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.
“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.
“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.
“Go home,” he says, his voice level.
Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.
“But… I wanted to see —”
“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.
“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.
“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”
He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.
“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.
He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.
Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.
Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —
“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.
You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.
When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.
“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.
“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.
“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.
He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”
You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.
“Because… it reminds me of you.”
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lads requests r.... open lol
983 notes · View notes
kingofbodyrolls · 4 months
Text
Stuck in a Snowstorm (m) | pjm
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*Part of 'the winter collection'. Read part two. Part three coming soon!
Summary: You don’t know how you ended up here. Stuck with your mortal enemy, Park Jimin, in you car – in a fucking snowstorm.
Pairing: Jimin x female reader
AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut.
Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.
Word count: 6,1K
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings (general) + triggers: Jimin is just a mean jerk and reader is a brat 😂 Lots of banter, crack and anger towards each other.
Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial/delay, hair pulling, oral (female and male receiving), breasts and nipple play. Also, use of a tie 👀
Author’s note: This is actually a story that I planned to write all the way back in 2017 – better late than never, right? 😂 I had only made the plot with some outline, so I basically started from scrap. But it had been stuck in my mind since FOREVER and now I just miss Jimin a shit ton, so I made this. I hope you enjoy it! Also, it shouldn’t be taken too seriously, it’s just smut with minimal plot and don’t question the characters bad actions or some minor plot holes 😂 (Also, I did not proofread this, just because).
Also, merry Christmas / happy holidays – this is my gift to you wonderful people out there 💜
AND are you guys looking forward to Jimin’s ‘Closer than This’ tomorrow???? 💜
If you prefer to read on AO3 you can read it here 😀
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“I can’t believe this…” in disbelief, you mutter, your voice tinged with uncertainty, while you desperately activate the windshield wiper, yearning for even a fleeting glimpse through the thick curtain of falling snow.
“I can,” Jimin declares from his spot beside you in the passenger seat. His playful critique follows swiftly, delivered with a pout and a firm voice, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “You're a terrible driver.”
“Am not!” you retort defiantly, your voice cutting through the air, even as your unwavering gaze remains fixed on the snowy expanse ahead.
A curtain of thick snow descends, veiling everything in an opaque white shroud. The road ahead is swallowed by the relentless onslaught, turning visibility into an elusive challenge.
Your hands clench the wheel with a vice-like grip, the strain evident as your knuckles whiten under the pressure. The tension in your entire body is so palpable that it hurts to fucking drive.
Exhaustion weighs on you heavily, a relentless burden, yet the realization hits that you're only halfway to your friends' Christmas party. Two more hours loom ahead, a daunting stretch of time spent in the company of Park Jimin, your sworn enemy.
The decision to share a car ride is a mystery even to yourself; perhaps it was a fleeting concern for the planet, a noble intention to save fuel by consolidating into one vehicle. Yet, as the journey unfolds, the real reasons behind your choice become an enigma.
Regret courses through you like a bitter undercurrent as you ponder the altruistic intentions behind considering the planet and the environment. The thought of advising Jimin to take his own car nags at you, a missed opportunity for a peaceful solo drive. In a self-cursing moment, you rue your own kindness.
“Let me drive; I’m a better driver than you anyway.” Jimin declares with casual confidence, his tone carrying an air of nonchalance.
“Fuck off, Jimin!” you hiss, frustration dripping from your words like venom.
You squint against the relentless assault of heavy snow, the world outside morphing into an indistinct blur as visibility dwindles.
Your pace is deliberate, a cautious dance with the road, but after several minutes, you relent, succumbing to the inevitable by slowing down even further.
“Fine!” you declare, seizing the steering wheel in a determined clench, bringing the car to an abrupt halt.
You pivot your gaze towards Jimin, the words cutting through the tension, “You fucking drive then.”
Shifting the car into park, you unclip your seatbelt with a determined click, swing the door open, and brave the biting embrace of the freezing snowstorm outside.
In synchronized movements, Jimin mirrors your actions, and together, you step out into the frigid air. The two of you converge outside, a silent agreement palpable in the crunch of snow beneath your feet, as you navigate around the car, preparing to swap seats.
“If you crash my car, I’ll kill you.” you menace, venom seeping through your words as you stride past him, positioning yourself in front of the vehicle.
He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, a smug satisfaction evident in his demeanor, relishing the fact that you've conceded to let him take the wheel.
Jimin confidently eases his plump figure into the driver's seat, and you avert your gaze (definitely not looking!). With a self-assured demeanor, he expertly adjusts the seat to accommodate his frame.
You attempt to thaw your chilled hands under the blast of hot air from the air conditioner, the sour mood hanging heavy around you as you settle into the passenger seat, donning a visible pout.
“Relax, I’m not gonna crash your precious car,” he teases, the playfulness evident in his voice, just before smoothly shifting the car into gear and forging ahead.
In response, a huff escapes your lips, arms instinctively crossing in a silent declaration of your lingering displeasure.
You surrender to a sense of ease as Jimin takes the wheel, his deliberate pace aligning with caution. It's a mutual understanding — in this snow-laden terrain, slow and steady becomes a shared creed for safety.
The once teasing atmosphere now gives way to palpable tension, the air thick with the weight of swirling snow that has intensified. Jimin, too, struggles visibly against the heavier onslaught, the challenge of navigating through the snow turning the car into a place of shared unease.
Your gaze fixates on Jimin, observing as his fingers clench the steering wheel with a tension mirroring your own, and his shoulders stiffen in sync. A chuckle escapes you, unexpectedly audible, as you notice the ironic similarity between his reaction and your earlier demeanor.
“What’s so funny?” Jimin spits, the tension reverberating unmistakably in his voice, each word a note in the symphony of strained emotions.
“Your driving,” you start to chuckle, the amusement laced with a hint of mischief.
“You're not exactly outclassing my skills,” you declare, sinking into the seat with a self-assured smirk, relishing the satisfaction of your own driving prowess.
“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” he seethes, the words charged with anger, his gaze sharply turning towards you, locking onto your eyes.
Despite Jimin's cautious speed, the car subtly veers, casting doubt on whether you're still on the road or lost in the oblivion of the thick snow. The blinding white landscape offers no clarity, leaving you uncertain and immersed in a disorienting wintry haze.
“I can’t see fucking shit!” he exclaims, abruptly bringing the car to a halt and cutting the engine in an instant, plunging you both into an eerie silence amid the obscured surroundings.
Your gaze locks onto him, urgency etched across your face. “What are you doing? We've got Seokjin's Christmas party in less than an hour!” The frustration in your voice reverberates, a ticking clock amplifying the stakes of the impending deadline.
“It’s not safe to drive in this freaking snowstorm!” he bellows in response, frustration escalating in his voice, punctuated by the sharp flick of the hazard warning lights, signaling the urgency and danger of the situation.
“I just want to get there already. I'd rather not be stuck with you,” you seethe, teeth gritted, a visible huff escaping in a cloud of anger. The tension hangs heavy, fueled by the biting words that linger in the now frosty air.
“Like I'd willingly be stuck with your sour attitude,” he retorts, his gaze sweeping you from head to toe for some inscrutable reason. “I don't even like you,” he declares, the words loaded with an unspoken tension that hangs in the frosty air between you two.
You gape at him, the bitter truth resonating in the air—an unspoken agreement that neither of you harbors any liking for the other. The animosity between you has solidified into a hostile dynamic, despite the shared circle of friends that consistently throws you together, much to your enduring displeasure.
Jimin exudes an infuriating level of cockiness, ceaselessly pushing your buttons and expertly tapping into the art of annoyance until it feels like your nerves are unraveling at his mere presence.
You'd willingly brave the biting cold rather than endure the prospect of an unpredictable future confined with him inside the car. Fate seems to revel in mocking you, as the car rapidly succumbs to the encroaching chill, each passing minute intensifying the unwelcome cold that now permeates the confined space.
You clutch your arms tightly around your body, desperately running your hands up and down in a futile attempt to gather some warmth. A curse slips from your lips as you question your own sanity—why in the world did you take off your jacket for the drive? Now it's trapped in the damn trunk, and the thought of braving the freezing cold to retrieve it is utterly unappealing.
“Cold?” he chuckles, the sound carrying an edge of amusement that only amplifies the chill sinking into your bones.
You nod your head.
“Well, I’m not giving you my jacket,” he states matter-of-factly, cocooning himself in the evident warmth of his puffer jacket. Damn Park Jimin and his infuriating nonchalance, he's truly a master of being a jerk!
“Can't even manage a simple act of kindness,” you mutter with disdain, the words escaping in a sharp hiss, a low and almost grumbling tone, accompanied by a dismissive eye roll.
“What's that?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, relishing the snug warmth of his jacket while you shiver in the cold. 
“Fuck you, Park!” you shout directly in his face, your words laced with frustration. Instead of a retort, he just chuckles, the sound taking on a manic edge that lingers in the frosty air, leaving an unsettling resonance to your heated exchange.
An indeterminate amount of time slips away, lost in the relentless snowfall that shows no sign of relenting. Frustration building, you reach for your phone and decide to text Seokjin, realizing that this damn snow isn't planning on letting up anytime soon.
You [15.42]: Stuck in a snowstorm with fucking Park Jimin. I don’t know when we’ll arrive 🙄
Jin [15.48]: Just stay safe 😂
Fuck Seokjin! You’re convinced that he’s somewhere enjoying a good laugh at your misfortune.
A surge of realization hits you like a bolt of inspiration—there's a blanket tucked away in the backseat. Swiftly moving up, you make your way to the center console.
“What’re you doing?” Jimin questions, his curiosity evident in the quirk of his eyebrow as you navigate over the center console, leaving him bewildered by your sudden, mysterious movements.
“There's a blanket back here,” you announce triumphantly, finally laying hands on the sought-after comfort. With a satisfying plop into the seat, you tug the blanket snugly over your cold body, a gesture that transforms the atmosphere within the car from chilly discomfort to a brief oasis of warmth.
After a few contemplative minutes, Jimin breaks the silence with a question that hangs in the air, “Mind if I join you?”
Your mouth falls agape, and your eyes widen in astonishment at his unexpected question. Collecting yourself, you respond with a hint of sarcasm, “You weren't keen on sharing your jacket with me. What makes you think I'd be willing to share my blanket with you?” The tension between you and Jimin escalates with each word, hanging palpably in the cold air.
Without a pause for your response, he defies the silence, navigating over the center console with the same determined crawl you had exhibited moments before. The unspoken tension between you both amplifies, turning the confined space into an arena of silent rivalry.
Seated beside you, he makes a grab for the blanket cocooning your shivering form. Resolute, you refuse to surrender it, your hands engaging in a tug of war with him.
“Share, you brat,” he hisses with a mix of irritation and amusement, his determination evident in the forceful tug at the blanket. 
“No!” you hiss back defiantly, the word laced with a stubborn refusal as you hold your ground.
With a forceful yank, he wrenches the blanket from your grasp, and in the struggle, he ends up with it draped across his lap. The victorious outcome of the skirmish leaves a charged atmosphere between you and Jimin, the warmth of the blanket now a coveted prize in his possession.
A triumphant smirk plays on his lips as he envelops himself in the captured blanket. His eyes lock onto your moping expression before descending further, a mischievous gleam indicating that his victory goes beyond the simple conquest of the blanket. 
“I can totally see your nipples,” he chuckles. 
You glance down, and sure enough, your nipples stand out against the satin material of your dress. Swiftly, you react, pressing your hands over your breasts in a sudden move to conceal their visibility. 
“Why the fuck are you look at my tits?” you yell at him, your frustration audible, but he merely chuckles in response. 
“You must really be freezing, huh?” he observes, and you simply nod in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the biting cold that permeates the confined space. 
“I can warm you up,” he suggests with a playful wink, both eyes and eyebrows conspiring in unison. The underlying implication of his words hangs in the air, and you instantly grasp the nature of his playful proposition.
“I'm not that desperate, Park,” you scoff with a hint of disgust, the rejection laced with a prideful undertone. In response, he simply chuckles, finding amusement in your candid dismissal.
Following his suggestive remark, an electric charge seems to surge through the atmosphere in the car. Your mind involuntarily races, envisioning the prospect of warming up next to him, his hands tracing every contour of your body,  his di—
Stop. You admonish yourself sternly, a mental command to cease the vivid thoughts involving him. He's your enemy, you remind yourself, emphasizing the intense dislike you harbor for Park Jimin. The internal conflict heightens, the struggle between attraction and animosity weaving a complex web within your mind.
His chuckle resonates beside you, a sound that grates on your nerves. Irritation mounts, and you sharply turn your head towards him, your annoyance evident in the flicker of your gaze. 
“Need help?” he inquires, his gaze suddenly deepening, the darkness in his eyes unveiling a subtle intensity that lingers in the air. 
“With what?” you spit back at him, the confusion evident in your tone. 
“You're grinding against the seat,” he bluntly points out, his gaze fixed on your crotch. You glance down, discovering your unconscious movement against the fabric of the seat. A sudden realization dawns, and an expletive slips from your lips. 
A wave of discomfort washes over you, an intense desire to squirm and disappear into the ground, engulfed by the embarrassment that now saturates the air. The profound sense of shame hangs heavy, making the moment so excruciatingly humiliating.
You inhale sharply, drawing in a breath that seems to shudder through you, and with a deliberate move, you roll your hips once more.
“No…” you murmur, the word escaping with a shaky uncertainty that even your own ears can detect. 
Jimin scoots closer to you, the warmth radiating from his body sending sparks that seem to dance through yours. 
He leans into you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, and in a breathy whisper, he offers, “I can help you with that.”
His words alone send a jolt through your body, a sudden tightening that ignites a fiery sensation. Damn it. The internal conflict and desire entwine, creating a tumultuous storm within you in the presence of him. It's undeniable—your entire being yearns for the touch you never thought you'd crave. 
His warm hand finds its way to your thigh, and a low moan escapes your lips at the contact. Fuck. 
His hand ventures down to the hem of your dress, grabbing and pulling it back to expose more of your thighs. A shiver runs down your spine as the cold air embraces your newly exposed skin, and a hiss escapes your lips. However, the sensation is quickly replaced by a different kind of warmth as his hand cups your clothed core. A breathless expletive escapes your lips, leaving your mind in a blissful blank state.
Instantly, you feel the warmth of his hand intimately against you, and your head falls back against the seat involuntarily. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you respond to the touch, unable to resist rolling your hips into the sensation.
“You’re needy,” he breathes against your ear, the words carrying a provocative weight that reverberates through you. 
His warm breath sends a cascade of shivers down your spine, clouding your thoughts in a haze of desire. The desire for release intensifies, eclipsing any reservations you may have about seeking it from your mortal enemy. 
“Shut up and just touch me,” you utter in frustration, the words punctuated by the deliberate grind of your hips into his hand, a desperate quest for any kind of friction. You're acutely aware of the desperation seeping through your actions, but at this moment, you don’t give a fuck.
And touch you he does. His fingers begin to rub your clit over the fabric of your panties, and you don't hold back your moans.
Your hips gyrate, a rhythmic dance in pursuit of your impending orgasm. The sensation builds rapidly, a cascade of pleasure on the brink. The question lingers in your mind—why does your body respond so eagerly to his touch?
He tugs your panties to the side, his touch on your clit eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. The warmth of his fingers against your skin amplifies the sensation, and you're already soaked.
“You're so wet already,” he chuckles against your ear, his lips teasingly grazing your skin. The desire to retaliate surges within you, but then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, one of his fingers enters your pussy, stealing your breath away.
He skillfully fingers you with one finger, the motion of his wrist simultaneously stroking against your clit, creating a sensation that's nothing short of delicious. The desire for more intensifies, an insatiable craving building within you.
“More,” you breathe, your voice escaping chapped and laden with a raw, lustful edge. 
Jimin adds one more digit, and you relish in the precision with which he finds your soft spot, hitting it perfectly.
“Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers in your ear, the suggestive question sending an instant jolt through your body, a yearning for more. 
A throaty moan escapes your lips as you willingly spread your legs wider, granting him more space.
He deftly introduces a third finger into you, and you feel yourself losing control, swept away by the overwhelming pleasure. It's already so good—how is he so skilled with his fingers?
The way he skillfully uses his fingers inside you while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his wrist propels you relentlessly toward the precipice of climax. The knot in your stomach tightens, and you're on the verge of that intoxicating release.
“Jimin, fuck. I'm gonna come soon,” you pant, the urgency in your voice underscored by the rhythmic grind of your pussy against his hand. 
He accelerates the pace of his fingers inside you, bringing you to the brink, but just as your body teeters on the edge of release, he abruptly withdraws his fingers and hand altogether.
His fingers and hand vanish, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. The abrupt absence intensifies the frustration and desire you feel surge through your body. Fuck!
Your legs tremble beneath you, and a frustrated hiss escapes your lips as you pant for breath.
“You didn't want to share the blanket,” he spews, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your evident frustration.
You're on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger. The desperate desire for release compounds the emotional turmoil within you. The audacity of him! The frustration boils over, cementing Jimin as nothing short of a fucking jerk in your mind.
“I'm not letting you come unless you beg for it,” he adds in a smug voice, a smirk playing on his lips as he purposefully puts some distance between you. 
You can't believe him. The brink of pleasure was within reach—just a few more rubs and you would have unraveled on his fingers. The yearning is palpable, a frustrating ache that intensifies with each passing moment. 
You growl at him, caught in a heated internal debate about whether to plead with him or not. 
Your pussy clenches around emptiness, a visceral reminder of your desperation.
“Please, Jimin. Please let me come,” you implore, locking eyes with him and turning your body toward him. The desperation in your gaze is palpable. Almost inadvertently, you press your chest closer, your stiff nipples drawing his gaze downward.
He licks his lips teasingly, a wicked glint in his eyes, before seizing your hips and drawing you irresistibly toward him. With a swift yet controlled motion, he manipulates your body, guiding you to lie on the seat. As you settle into the unexpected position, he chuckles at the genuine confusion etched across your face.
“Because you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and in a bold move, he shoves your dress up to your stomach. With swift precision, he snatches your panties, sliding them down your legs. “I'll give you what you want.”
He discards your panties with a deliberate flick, his focus unwavering as he plunges down to your throbbing pussy. There's no hesitation; he immediately delves into licking at your folds and clit with a hunger that matches your own. 
Your body instinctively arches off the length of the seat, a wave of pleasure coursing through you. It feels unbelievably good. In the heat of the moment, your hands find his hair, fingers gripping and pulling at the strands, eliciting a guttural groan from him. 
Your muscles tighten, and the echoes of the previous orgasm, forcefully ripped from you, return with an intensity that feels tenfold. Each breath is a furious pant as he continues to lap at your folds, the relentless pleasure building and intertwining with your gasps. 
Then, with a skillful touch, he adds a finger to your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. Your senses heighten, and just as you succumb to the pleasure, he skillfully continues to ravish your entrance with his tongue. 
“Jimin!” you scream his name, a raw and unrestrained cry escaping your lips as you reach the peak of ecstasy on his tongue. Your body tightens, toes curling, and you involuntarily hitch your heels against his legs. In the throes of pleasure, your vision blurs, and you fight for air.
He chuckles, a throaty sound that reverberates in the aftermath of your high. Not giving you a moment to fully come down, he skillfully inserts two of his fingers inside you, drawing a hiss from your lips at the touch—your body rendered oversensitive.
He extends his fingers, proudly displaying them, glistening with your intimate juices. A wicked glint in his eyes, he issues a command, “Clean them.” 
You meet his gaze defiantly, a spark of challenge in your eyes, before obediently rising to carry out his command. Taking hold of his hand, you sensually draw his slick digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them like a provocative dance. Your eyes lock onto his, witnessing the raw desire in his gaze as you release his fingers with an audible ‘pop’.
“I hate you,” you declare, breathless, the words carrying a mixture of frustration and desire. His response is a low chuckle, his perceptive gaze catching the teasing glint in your eyes.
He leans back, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, and starts palming himself through his dress pants. Your eyes involuntarily follow the movement of his hands, and a jolt of desire courses through you as you realize he's already rock hard. The unmistakable bulge strains against his pants, a visual testament to the arousal simmering between you two. 
“I can help you with that,” you purr, a sultry promise lingering in your eyes, eager to reciprocate the pleasure.
He chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and smoothly turns his body to fully face you. With a teasing smirk, he unzips his pants, skillfully pulling down both his trousers and underwear enough to liberate his hardened dick.
His cock springs free, defiantly brushing against the bottom of his loosened tie, a sight that's undeniably tantalizing. Perfectly sculpted, it's veiny and slightly flushed at the tip, mirroring the allure of every inch of him. A surge of conflicting emotions overwhelms you – the hate, the desire, the acknowledgment of his undeniable appeal. You despise how effortlessly good-looking he is, from the tousled blonde locks to those lips you now crave to taste. 
However, your gaze returns to his dick, noting its average size but with a satisfying girth that catches your attention. A subtle hint of anticipation flickers in your eyes, and your tongue instinctively darts out to moisten your lips. 
“Then get to work,” he pants, a breathy command, as he sensually spreads his legs, creating an inviting space for you. 
You descend eagerly, ensuring your mouth is generously coated with saliva before you engulf him, starting with just the tip. 
He hisses the moment your lips meet his dick, his head instinctively colliding with the window behind him, an involuntary exclamation escaping, “Ah, fuck.”
You engulf more of him, your mouth descending entirely, and the sound of his primal moan reverberates in response. You add a sultry hum, a note of satisfaction coursing through you.
You initiate a slow, deliberate pace, skillfully sucking him off, and anything beyond your mouth's capacity, you sensually stroke with your hand. 
His hands seek out your hair, effortlessly capturing the neatly arranged high ponytail that he grasps with a possessive confidence. 
You revel in the subtle tension, accelerating your descent on him with a newfound urgency. Your tongue skillfully traces intricate patterns, dancing across his tip and the sensitive folds of his frenulum.
He moans in ecstasy as you withdraw with a satisfying ‘pop,’ only to treat the head of his throbbing dick like a tempting lollipop, your tongue swirling around it with deliberate sensuality.
As you glance up at him, he appears utterly lost in the moment. His eyes, once vibrant, are now dilated orbs of desire, his parted lips releasing audible breaths. The state of bliss enveloping him transforms his features into a breathtaking display of vulnerability and beauty.
You envelop him once more, relishing the subtle tremor that courses through him, a tangible response to the sensations you're skillfully orchestrating with your lips and tongue.
He yanks you away from him, his voice a raw whisper laden with desire, “I want to fuck you.”
You prop yourself up, captivated by the transformation before you. The usual arrogant Park Jimin is replaced by this vulnerable, needy version, and against your better judgment, a desperate craving for him builds inside you. You ache for him to consume you entirely.
A mischievous smirk plays on your lips as you echo his earlier taunts, “Beg for it,” you challenge, aware of the palpable tension between you, a shared desire pulsating in the charged air.
A low, throaty chuckle escapes him as his fingers glide through the tousled strands of his blonde hair, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re really a fucking brat,” he hisses, a smirk playing on his lips.
He sits up, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he sheds his open jacket, the confined warmth of the car now turning uncomfortably sweltering. You can't help but acknowledge the irony; at least you're not freezing anymore, which, after all, was the primary objective of this unexpected detour, wasn't it?
“Please let me fuck you,” his plea hangs in the air, a desperate echo of your own request, and you can't help but chuckle, slowly crawling closer to him.
“Turn around, let me straddle you. Leaning against the headrest will give us more space,” you suggest, and he shifts in an instant, his arousal evident in the casual sway of his dick with each movement.
Then you confidently straddle him, your hand instinctively reaching for his dick, guiding him to align perfectly with your eager entrance.
Before you lower yourself onto him, you sensually trail his dick through your wetness, relishing in the intimate friction. A moan escapes your lips as you then descend onto his lap in one smooth, sultry motion.
The exquisite stretch sends a shiver down your spine, and he effortlessly glides in, eliciting a breathless ‘Fuck!’ from your lips.
As your hands find their place on his shoulders for support, his eyes, now hooded, follow your every movement as you begin to ride him with a rhythm that echoes the passion pulsing between you.
You pant furiously, your breath hot against his face. The sensation of him inside you is nothing short of heavenly, an electrifying connection that feels as if every contour of him aligns perfectly with every curve of your pussy.
“Ah,” ecstasy courses through you with each fervent bounce on his throbbing length, a harmonious rhythm of pleasure escaping your lips in breathless gasps.
“You’re so tight,” his ragged breaths synchronize with the rhythmic clench of your walls, his hands anchoring to your hips, adding an electrifying intensity to each blissful plunge into your velvet warmth.
Between gasps, you manage to growl, “Fuck. I hate you,” only to be met with his deep, throaty chuckle as he continues the relentless rhythm of his thrusts, each one a tumultuous clash of conflicting desires.
Amidst heavy breaths, he accuses, “I know you're lying,” his words punctuated by the rhythmic tempo of his panting. Undeterred, he leans in for a searing kiss, his lips caressing yours with a softness akin to pillows. Your defenses crumble as you melt into his touch, tongues colliding in a fervent dance that defies the lingering tension.
“Why is it that you feel so damn good?” you gasp, interrupting the kiss only to plunge back into its intoxicating depths. Each moment spent in his embrace feels like a surrender to a passionate whirlwind. His every thrust reverberates through you, sending electrifying shivers down your spine, an exquisite dance of pleasure and desire that you find impossible to resist.
“Perhaps I should prolong your climax, just as you did to me?” you purr with a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, resurrecting the playful brat within you.
He chuckles, his hands leaving the curve of your hips to gracefully undo his tie at his neck. Your gaze fixates on him, observing each deliberate move as he frees himself from the constriction of the tie, all while you continue to ride him with an unabashed hunger.
“You really are a fucking brat,” he mutters, the corners of his lips quirking into a sly smile as he pulls off his tie. “Now, shut up,” he commands, silencing any potential retorts by expertly stuffing the tie into your open, protesting mouth.
You yield to the makeshift gag, sinking your teeth into the fabric, muffling the symphony of your own desperate moans.
A smirk plays on his lips as his hands reclaim your hips, commanding, “Now take it like the fucking brat that you are.”
His movements become a relentless rhythm, thrusting deep inside you. All you can do is cling to his shoulders, swept away by the force of his desire.
Ecstasy courses through you, and you can't help but moan into the fabric of his tie. It feels too damn good to contain.
His voice drips with satisfaction as he senses your walls tightening around him, and a smug grin plays on his lips. “You like that, huh?”
A guttural moan escapes your lips in response, the crescendo of pleasure building, and you sense the impending climax drawing near.
“Fuck yourself on my dick,” his command hangs in the air, thick with desire, as his hands abandon your hips, embarking on a journey down your back. With a swift motion, he unzips your dress, letting it cascade down your shoulders.
Your naked breasts dances to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, an erotic ballet of passion and desire.
“Fuck. You’re not wearing a bra, just like I thought,” his eyes widen in delighted surprise, a devilish grin playing on his lips. His hands eagerly exploring the contours of your exposed tits.
His words hang in the air, sending a shiver down your spine. “Your tits are beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns around your stiffened nipples. Your body reacts instinctively, a primal moan escaping through the tie as desire courses through you.
Every grind and movement becomes a challenge as he expertly tweaks and pulls at your nipples, sending waves of pleasure and distraction through your body. You fight to maintain a rhythm, desperately trying to pleasure yourself on his dick amidst the electrifying sensations dancing across your chest.
As your walls clench around him, a whirlwind of sensations floods your body, signaling that the peak of pleasure is just a breath away. Every nerve is on edge, and the anticipation of an imminent climax tingles through you, a storm about to erupt.
As he skillfully massages your tits, he breathlessly teases, “You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” his words send shivers down your spine, intensifying the pleasure that's building within you.
With a fervent nod, you surrender to the sensations, your muffled moans echoing through the tie as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.
As he plunges into you, he urges you with a guttural command, “Cream my cock, brat.” The raw desire in his voice fuels the intensity of your connection, igniting a blaze of passion.
Overwhelmed by desire, his dick finding every exquisite spot within you, you unleash a guttural moan, your pleasure echoing into the fabric of the tie as you climax on his pulsating cock.
Jimin's fingers twist around your hardened nipples, sending electric shocks of ecstasy through your body. A guttural exclamation escapes your lips, muffled by the tie, as pleasure courses through every fiber of your being.
He pounds into you relentlessly, the rhythm building towards an intense climax. His hands firmly grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he desperately seeks his own release.
He reaches the peak of ecstasy, his body shuddering with the force of his release as he spills into the warmth of your pussy.
Heaving for breath, the silence between you two speaks volumes, a shared understanding lingering in the air as you descend from the euphoric heights of your climaxes.
Collapsing onto his chest, you revel in the soothing aftermath, liberated from the restraint of his tie. As his body relaxes within you, the intimacy lingers, a tangible connection forged in the heat of passion.
His lips graze your neck with a gentle touch, igniting a cascade of thoughts about the significance behind this tender gesture.
As laughter fills the air, shattering the lingering tension, your attention shifts to the foggy windows and the oppressive heaviness in the car, making each breath a deliberate act.
As you hastily redress, Jimin slips into his jacket and steps out of the car, retrieving your coat from the trunk. With a gentle handoff, he passes it to you, and you quickly slip into its comforting warmth.
“Thank you,” your gratitude escapes in a hushed whisper, laden with a touch of bewilderment. The encounter, while undeniably electrifying, leaves you grappling with conflicting emotions. It's Park Jimin, your sworn adversary, and the intensity of the shared moment hangs between you, a paradox of pleasure and rivalry.
“You’re welcome,” his response carries a self-assured smirk, echoing the lingering traces of the shared intimacy. As he confidently returns to the driver's seat, you mirror his actions, settling into the passenger's seat, both enveloped in a charged silence that speaks volumes.
The snowfall has eased, no longer as relentless as before. A subtle nostalgia creeps in as you reflect on his desire to keep you warm. The gentle flakes now fall, leaving you yearning for the lingering warmth of his touch.
As he revs the engine to life, a gust of chilly air sweeps through the car, causing you to emit an involuntary grunt. His chuckle fills the cabin, accompanied by a smirk and a teasing wink. “I can warm you up anytime,”
You shoot him a moping gaze, wondering if he has a knack for deciphering your thoughts. Can he sense the magnetic pull, the unspoken attraction that mirrors your own inner turmoil?
You return his smile, a silent agreement resonating between you as he steers the car forward, setting the wheels and unspoken possibilities in motion.
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Three hours fashionably late, you finally arrive at Seokjin's Christmas party. The distant hum of music greets you as you step out of the car, signaling that the celebration is already in full swing.
As you rap your knuckles against the door, you steal a glance at Jimin who's busy adjusting his attire. His fingers deftly tighten the knot of his tie, and his pants get a quick, inconspicuous tug into place.
As Seokjin swings the door open, a tantalizing waft of mouthwatering aromas envelops your senses, instantly sparking a smile on your face.
Seokjin's laughter echoes as he playfully accuses, “You fucked Jimin!” and your jaw drops in disbelief to the floor.
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pinkie-pop · 2 months
Text
"I Have Something To Tell You."
Part I Part II Part III
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Yandere Genshn Impact, non religious SAGAU, Yandere Fatui Harbingers
Word count: 3.1k
Includes: Portrayal of mental illness, suicide, description of injury,
Synopsis: After killing yourself and landing in the world of Genshin Impact, you reflect on all that has gone wrong.
•~•~•~•~•~•
You don't really want to go home. Not exactly. But it's easier to say you miss your bed than to say you'd be fine with any bed, so long as it isn't the one in your wing. 
You thought people who get isekaied into new worlds were supposed to be happy. You've always been unlucky, you suppose. That's right. It's easier to say you were unlucky than to face the reality of the situation: that this was all your own fault.
You should have sucked it up. Should have gone to counseling or stayed at a hospital. Should have done something else. Should have done anything else.
You should never have killed yourself. 
•~•~•~•~•~•
It all started maybe a week ago. You've always been depressed. Never passionate about anything other than your video games, never smiling at anything other than a shiny new character or banner weapon, but it had never been this bad before. For all the talk, you had never actually wanted to die.
But then something changed. You aren't quite sure what it was that set you off. Maybe a particularly bad day at work, a side effect from an experimental medication you're on, or nothing at all. Regardless, something changed, and it changed fast. Soon, death became all you could think about. It plagued your mind both night and day until, at last, you slit your wrists in the bathtub, and when that didn't work, and you woke up again, you climbed up your local water tower and jumped off.
But it didn't matter. You woke up again. Looking different, but still undeniably you. Your face and voice had changed, but the same two scars still sit mockingly upon your wrists. You can't say you're prettier now, just different. Weren't the protagonists of transmigration stories meant to wake up in beautiful bodies, completely unlike their originals? So why was it that your hair and eyes remained the same, that only your face and body had differed? 
“Your body,” Dottore explained, “was completely destroyed during your fall. So it reconstructed itself, leaving you a little different, a little the same. That's why,” he said, tapping your wrists,”—that these are still here.” Any other scars you have had disappeared from your body, any blemishes vanished, though the two on your wrists remained. It left you looking smooth and unfinished, a pale imitation of who you once were. Like someone who had only seen you a couple of times tried to draw you from memory. Dottore told you it was because you were attached to them. That the scars shaped your soul, hence their survival. You didn't quite understand, if you're being honest, but he seemed to know what he was talking about, so you didn't bother to question it.
When you woke up again after death, the first thing you noticed was how cold it was. The chill wind was bitter against your white nightwear, the breeze penetrating through the thin fabric as easily as a needle piercing one's skin. The cold seemed to seep into you, lodging itself deep inside your bones. 
It was snowing, you realized dimly. That's odd. It hardly ever snowed anymore. The thought that you ought to have been dead by now hadn't yet occured to you, only the thought of cold and bitter winter days lingered in your mind. You thought of school being dismissed due to snow in your youth, of playing and building snowmen as a child. You recalled how the snow eventually stopped coming in winters, due to the Earth’s gradual heating. When it did come, it was a sad and pathetic thing, only a few inches total, melting as soon as it hit the ground. 
You thought long and deeply, in an odd, serene state of mind despite, or perhaps because of the polar cold. You aren't quite sure how long you stayed there, reminiscing, but it must have been quite a while, seeing as how your fingers and toes turned black, contrasting starkly against the snow.
It was Tartaglia who found you first, buried knee-deep in snow, strangely calm despite the way your fingertips are blackened by the cold. Of course, you were calm. You were supposed to be dead anyway.
“You okay there, comrade?” He asked you, waving a hand in front of your face. You blinked at him slowly but otherwise didn't respond. You were so still that he would have thought you dead if not for the soft rising and falling of your chest. Tartaglia attributed your inaction to shock—a symptom he's seen plenty of during his time as a Fatuus. Seeing as how you seemed unable (or perhaps unwilling) to move, he simply picked you up and dragged you back to the Zapolyarny Palace, where you were able to warm up and get treatment.
In normal circumstances, your arms and legs would have had to be amputated, but your circumstances were far from normal.
Dottore was the one who had saved your limbs (Your legs, having been buried in the snow for hours, were beyond saving, but your fingers and hands were able to recover). For that, you were grateful. He’s a creep, sure, but sentiments of debt made you tolerate his odd rambles about medical malpractice. Made you politely ignore the way his hands seemed to linger and stray.
After all, if he could save your limbs from certain death, he could most certainly remove them with just as much ease, too.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
The mirror in your quarters is broken. 
You punched it when you first saw yourself reflected in its panes and refused to get a replacement, despite the many urgings of Pantalone to let him buy you one. Simply having your mirror broken was not enough to completely block out your new reflection, so you requested a can of blackout paint to be brought over to your room, where you then did a—in hindsight—rather shoddy job of enshrouding the reflective surface. It looked bad, but you didn't care. 
All you cared about was never seeing the face that you hesitate to call yours ever again. 
•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You aren't quite sure why Tartaglia brought you back to the Palace when it would have been much easier to leave you in the snow. You asked him about it once, but his response was less than satisfactory. 
“You could say I fell in love with you at first sight,” he said, ruffling your hair. Because what could be more charming than a frostbitten civilian in white nightwear that camouflages them in the snow?
You decided then and there to ignore any questions you had about the Harbingers’ growing attachment to you. You didn't need to know why they felt the way they did. Only that they did.
Only that they do.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You were given a luxurious room at the Palace, far nicer than even the best of five-star resorts you could never afford. You even had your own personal maid, a brawny woman named Lera (an aptly chosen name, considering it means strength). She had her own helpers that also attended to you, three girls named Ana, Ulyana, and Irina (Ana and Ulyana are twins belonging to two rather uncreative parents, and Irina is an only child). Ana and Ulyana seem to be around your age, Irina a few years younger, and Lera about two decades older. Having the four of them around makes you feel as if you've been transmigrated into a romance fantasy novel.
When Tartaglia brought you to the Zapolyarny Palace, it caused a small ripple of chaos in its wake. The halls were filled with whispers about the strange person who seemed to have captured the heart of the eleventh Harbinger. Even more shocking than that, however, was the second’s agreement to heal you. There were many rumors going about, talk of backroom deals that must have been done to get Dottore to agree to save your arms, but no proof of such things were ever found. Some brave souls claimed that Dottore had also fallen for you and that that was why he had agreed to help. These people were hushed by their friends rather quickly, for fear of their own lives.
Stranger still was the seventh’s involvement in your recovery. Sandrone, though you're not sure how she heard about it or why she had decided to help, had created a pair of porcelain legs for you to wear. They were pretty, like a doll’s, a pale eggshell white with elegant gold carvings etched into the skin. They were comfortable, too, so much so that you almost forgot they were prosthetic, and Lera had to remind you multiple times to take them off before heading to bed.
You wanted to thank Sandrone for your legs, but you haven't seen her since your measurements and fitting. You asked a servant to send a message to her, but you've gotten no indication that she's even received it, let alone a response. As for Dottore, you were able to send your regards through Ulyana, who had to visit his section of the Palace anyway.
Tartaglia visits you daily, and soon you begin to coincidentally meet with the other Harbingers, who always seemed to have time for entertainment in the form of you.
“Oh, are you the one that our dear Tartaglia is so smitten with?” Came the sing-songy voice of Columbina. You pause, turning around slowly. To be honest, Columbina was one of the Harbingers you'd most like to avoid. Her soft voice sent shivers down your spine that—you hope—would be attributed to the cold instead. 
You turn towards her, and, afraid your voice might crack, say nothing and simply nod instead. 
“What’s your name, little songbird?” She asks you. You give it to her in a quiet voice, and she returns it with her own. Before she can say anything more, Tartaglia comes by and wraps an arm around you, making up some excuse about the two of you having someplace you needed to be. Columbina watches the two of you leave in silence, a small, closed-eyed smile upon her face.
Later, Tartaglia warns you away from Columbina. “There's something not right with her,” he says, a rare frown dancing upon his lips. “I can't place it, but you're better off staying away. And that's not just because I'd rather keep you to myself.” He then smiles and ruffles your hair in an attempt to lighten the mood. You don't say anything, but nod when he asks you to avoid her.
Pantalone is next. He visits you directly, bringing with him two golden bracelets you have no choice but to let him place upon your wrists. They do a good job of covering up your scars, which you assume is the intention behind the gift. It's oddly thoughtful, coming from him. But you know better than to think it was free.
You aren't sure if you want to know what he expects in exchange.
You meet with La Signora next, and you're surprised to see that she's still alive. You suppose the Traveler hasn't made it to Inazuma in this world yet. That's strange, but you decide not to dwell on it.
Next is Dottore’s segments, also still alive, and all of whom seem to enjoy lingering around your quarters. You often find one or two hanging around in the hallways, always making light conversation or asking if you require anything. You know better than to write it off as a coincidence, and for a while you entertained the thought that Dottore had put them up to it, before promptly writing it off as ridiculous. 
Still, a small part of you can't help but wonder if the doctor has taken a special interest in one of his dear patients.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Two weeks into your stay at the Zapolyarny Palace, you overhear a conversation amongst the servants. You hide behind a banister and listen in.
“How long has it been now?” Says a maid, a nervous hand tangled in her hair, tugging it slightly. You’ve seen her before but have never gotten her name. She’s speaking to another maid who you recognize as Tatinana.
“Almost a month, I’d say,” responds the other, gently stopping her from ruining her braids.
“Everyone’s getting antsy. I’ve never seen Lord Tartaglia so irritable.”
“I know what you mean. He used to be such a laid-back guy. Now, you can barely even hold a conversation without him looking at you like he’s ready to tear out your eyes. Lord Scaramouche has gotten even more unbearable to be around, too. And you can tell the Player’s absence has taken a toll on everyone else as well.” Player, huh? If their absence is so heavily noticed, they must be important. It’s odd, though. You’ve never once heard about such a character existing at all, let alone their disappearance. You keep listening, hoping for clues about this mysterious person’s identity.
“Don’t you think the timing is a little odd? They showed up right before the Player stopped logging in. They’ve got the Harbingers wrapped around their finger. It’s too precise to be a coincidence. There’s something to it, I just know it.” Is she…talking about you now? So this ‘Player’ disappeared right before you showed up? They stopped ‘logging in’? Well, isn’t that wording a bit peculiar? It sure sounds like gamer lingo to you.
This Player that they mentioned…it couldn’t be you, could it?
“Enough with your conspiracies. Let’s get back to work before—” A floorboard creaks from under your foot, and the two maids freeze. You suppose there’s no use in hiding anymore, so you step out to face them.
“E-esteemed guest, w-what brings you here?”
“Ah, nothing much,” you say. “I heard voices and came to take a look. What were you two talking about?” You ask casually, stuffing your hands in your pockets.
“Nothing!” The girl with braided hair squeaks. You raise an eyebrow at her, and the other shakes her head.
The girl sighs. “We aren’t supposed to talk about them,” she says.
“Maria, I think they heard,” Tatiana says. “What do you want to know?”
“Tell me more about this ‘Player’ you mentioned.” 
“Didn’t stop you before.”
“Right, well…” She pauses, seemingly formulating her next words carefully. “It’s this…force. This being behind the Traveler. We don’t know its true nature, none of us have ever seen anything like it. It controls the Traveler and their companions like a puppet to its puppeteer.”
“They’ve lost their minds,” Maria whispers. “It’s scary. They make us clean a ghost’s room. Every day, it has to be spotless.”
“And? What’s the goal?”
“That’s the thing…none of us know. The Harbingers know something, they’re all obsessed with the Player, they’re convinced that the Player holds some kind of power they can utilize, but the Player isn’t from Teyvat, and only Lord Tartaglia has figured out how to interact with it.”
“Interact with it how?”
“By being possessed. All the Harbingers want to be controlled by the Player, they think it’ll make them stronger. But it’s more than that. They used to just want to use the Player for their own gain, but somewhere along the way things changed. They’ve been working on a way to bring them here, and when they do there’s a whole wing in the Zapolyarny Palace dedicated to them.”
“It was unbearable right after the Player first disappeared, the air was suffocating. But then Lord Tartaglia brought you back and things started to return to normal. I overheard him saying being with you reminded him of when the Player used to take control.” You nod, the cogs in your head turning furiously. That settles it, then. Without a shred of doubt, you are the Player.
“Hey, so listen…”
The Tsarista summoned you and all Harbingers to a meeting in an effort to control the chaos your revelation had caused.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
You thought you were prepared to see the Tsarista for the first time, but nothing in the world could prepare you for the sheer, glacial beauty standing in front of you. Her presence was strong, commanding obedience with a simple glance. Her eyes looked at you coldly, interest evident in her face as she called the meeting to order. A beautiful crown of ice sat upon her head, her impossibly white hair elegantly framing her face as it cascaded down her back.
The meeting passed by in a blur. You remember them talking about your need to be protected, to never leave the Palace without at least two Harbingers or the Tsaritsa herself escorting you. You remember telling them about how you died, stating simply that you ‘fell from a high place’ and omitting the part where you jumped. You remember the color of the buttons each Harbinger wore on their coat. But you don’t remember the part where you agreed to stay with them. You don’t remember anyone even asking.
After the meeting, news of your true identity spread like wildfire. Some people didn’t believe it, calling you a fraud or an imposter, but those voices were quickly snuffed out the second the Harbingers started to accept your new status as the Player. Immediately, you were moved to the Player’s Wing in the Zapolyarny Palace, an easy move, considering you had no possessions. 
You don’t know why they’re trying so hard to win your favor or even if they realize that they’re failing, but either way, you know you need to get out of here. You’d try dying again if you thought that would work, but after seeing your scars, the Harbingers have already blocked all potential means of speeding up your expiration date. That only leaves one option.
The Harbingers’ visits, already a nuisance, became overbearing in no time. If it wasn’t Tartaglia dragging you to his training hall, it was Dottore giving you the nitty-gritty of his latest experiments. If it wasn’t Arlecchino shoving sweets down your throat, it was Pantalone burying you in gifts.
If it wasn’t one, it was always the other. 
You have to run away. 
But how? The Harbingers are all working together to keep you under constant lock and key.
Maybe if you were able to break the bonds they’ve formed with each other, you could recruit one of them to help you. They’re all selfish assholes. You’re sure it wouldn’t be difficult to convince one of them they’d be better off keeping you to themselves.
“I have something to tell you,” you say, brushing a strand of hair out of the Balladeer’s face. “It’s about Dottore.”
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silkjade · 3 months
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SPARKS AMIDST THE SNOW
scaramouche x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, second chance romance ⤀ synopsis: he meets you again for the first time since erasing himself from irminsul, and new hope flickers in the barren cold. a/n: for the best reading experience, pls think of the outro to all too well (10 min version) while u read this !
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when scaramouche inevitably accompanies the golden haired traveller on their journey to snezhnaya, the last thing he expected was a pit stop in your little village on the outskirts of the capital. and although his puppet body does not shrink in the face of this nation's biting cold, his skin burns under the curious, yet cautious, gaze of those once familiar to him.
he keeps his head down, dipping his hat so that its large brim might hide his visage, eager to avoid any unwarranted attention. still, his eyes cannot help but wander and his heart, imaginary as it may be, cannot help but wonder.
were you well? the last he'd seen of you, he had promised to return a god—one who would whisk you away from the barren cold of snezhnaya to live out your days in glory as his mortal consort. but for all that had transpired, and then that fateful traipse beneath the irminsul, he's now no more than just another stranger passing through—fleeting as the falling snow, just another memory to be buried in the desolate stillness of winter.
he cares not for the stars in the sky, yet somehow they still dictate that his traveling companions would task him with purchasing commodities, of course from your family's stall. he's long grown out of his naivety; knows that in this infinite realm of possibilities, there’d always be the chance of meeting you again, slim as it may be. if it really came to, he had been prepared to let you live your life, free of him this time around, but it seems this world has its own twisted sense of humor, for he cannot tear his eyes from the ring that sits upon your finger.
"that ring. where did you get it?" he's never been one for small talk, but the biting curiosity rivals that of the wind, as it chips away at his exterior. he keeps his tone even, ignoring the multitude of emotions whirring in his head, though irritation clearly seems to buzz the loudest.
it should have been impossible that a ring he'd forged with his own hands should still exist, but as the fate of this world has yet to reflect that… if he hadn't given you the ring, then how? or perhaps even who... the cold, gunmetal glint laughs in his face as your swift fingers wrap up his purchase.
the stranger's question takes you by surprise, and you look up, taken aback by the intensity of his indigo gaze—beautiful, and bitter, and so blatantly familiar, yet you cannot quite figure out why.
your village is nowhere near the main road, so it isn't often that you'd host any foreign guests; even if you did, you're sure you'd remember if someone like that were to ever have passed through. nevertheless, you flex your fingers, pulled out of your thoughts by his impatient sigh.
"I'm not sure. I've had it ever since I could remember."
you're the same as he remembers, he thinks. a rose amidst the snow, with frost resting in your hair and on the curls of your lashes. out of habit, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring at a closer proximity.
'how rude,' you think. and yet your hand in his, feels comfortable, and warm, and right. like an electric charge drawing two magnets home to the other. it’d be blasphemy to pull away, but you manage to do so anyway, furrowing your brows at his boldness, the frown on your lips more so a reflection of your confusion, rather than displeasure.
“if you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” you mumble, as you slip the ring off your finger, offering it to him in the palm of your hand.
the detailed metalwork, the particular branding imprinted in the iron… there’s no denying the influence of the raiden gokaden, though it was perhaps, a subconscious decision made from muscle memory. in hindsight, he thinks that, in the moment, he must have felt—still feels—that same overwhelming affection that came as second nature to kabukimono. after all, it was forged as a promise of his love, and there’s no question about it when, hidden beneath his clothes, its pair hangs on a chain around his neck.
"it’s made with excellent craftsmanship," he boasts, "any merchant worth their weight, would give you a good price for it." he figures you might as well get something out of it, and a piece like this, though meaningless now, is still sure to last you until at least the next winter.
but a stubborn pout is painted across your snow-kissed features. "absolutely not! it’s actually quite dear to me, you know..."
scaramouche scoffs at the irony. ‘why?’ he wants to ask. he is not foolish enough to believe himself an exception from the rules of this world; not when he's already convinced himself to give up on chasing the impossible. still, here you are, turning destiny on its head—his heart, right within reach.
“it can’t be that dear, if you’d so willingly hand it off to a stranger.” his face reveals nothing, though he cannot say the same for the bile that rises in his throat. he crosses his arms, a brow raised in skepticism. "how do you know I won't run off with it right now?"
“I don’t,” you start, “so I suppose you could call it a leap of faith.”
“or a doomed attempt at flight,” he counters. “you’d leave something so precious up to fate?”
you ponder for a moment as to why you feel so drawn to this stranger, why this back and forth comes so easily, why you seem to somehow just trust him.
"we don’t get many visitors here,” you start, “and as fate should have it, the day we do, it happens to be someone as interesting as you. that must count for something, no?”
the realist he’s learned to embody rolls his eyes at such ridiculous notions: your blind optimism… putting such faith in these false stars…. but the tenderness he had buried begs to differ, planting roots between the cavities of his chest, sprouting until it breaks through the surface.
he takes a further study of the intricate details, the careful inazuman script engraved on its body. ‘my heart,’ he had wrote.
scaramouche dips his head as his fingers close a fist around the piece, the large brim of his hat hiding the fondness glimmering in his eyes, and the ghostly smile settling on his lips. he does not cringe as he recalls the lingering remnants of kabukimono's innocence: stubbornly deluding himself to believe that his hollowed chest was naught for his natural lack of a heart, but because fate had dictated you to be its keeper.
perhaps the warmth of sumeru had indeed rubbed off on him—melted the frost that crawled upon and tore his skin, whilst teaching him to hope again, not for anyone else’s sake, but for his own. what was that vahumana saying? it’s difficult for people to truly understand themselves—and as much as he’d like to disagree, judging by his current predicament, he knows he cannot.
“have you ever considered that this ring might be one half of a pair?” he tosses it in the air, nonchalantly, as if he were merely flipping a coin, catching it mid-way before you have the chance to swipe it back.
“what do you suppose fate would have to say about that?”
it’s almost impossible to tell whether he’s truly genuine in his queries, but the mischievous gleam in his bright eyes, and the smug look on his face, seem to nullify any regards you may have had. your brows twitch in vexation. was he not just here to buy provisions? and yet he toys with you so…
“well if that were the case, then it would be between me and whoever owns the other half,” you huff, reaching over once again in an attempt to snatch back your belonging, only to miss by mere seconds thanks to a quick slight of his hand.
breathing out something between a chuckle and a scoff, scaramouche tugs at the thin chain around his neck, hard enough for it to snap right off, and toss in your direction.
"a leap of faith," he says plainly. it lands in the palms of your hands: a ring, near identical. 'my soul' it reads. if he lacked a heart, then it could only have been forged from his soul.
a flurry of questions swarm in your head, as you stare at his ring. you want to ask him why and how, but he's already pivoted away, the tassels of his hat barely missing you by inches, as he quickly grabs his purchase.
“who are you,” you manage to blurt out, calling out to him, and asking him to wait, so he might answer these questions he’s planted in your heart, but he only bids you farewell with a lazy wave of his hand.
though there's nothing he'd like more than to hear the sweet song of his name falling from your lips, he's learned it best to leave the past where it belongs. once he's settled his scores... then he'll get his second chance with you—he'll make sure of it, vowing to come back for you, not as kunikuzushi who you had once known him, but he hopes you might one day be able to love him as he is, as well.
‘my soul.’ your new ring reads. you shake your head, pursing your lips at the mysterious wanderer, wondering if you’d ever see him again, but a gust of wind blows your way—not a prickling cold as you’re used to, but a warm summer breeze that seems to caress your cheeks oh so sweetly.
perhaps it's only in your head, but you swear the wind seems to carry the whisper of a name in its flurry. 'and don't you forget it,' it seems to say.
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a/n2: pleaseeee associate this with the outro of all too well (10 min version) like imagine the camera slow panning out amidst the falling snow, to the hopes of another chance together (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) anyways, tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback vry much appreciated ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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adonis-koo · 3 months
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wicked • 19
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↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?
↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader
↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut
Word Count: 13k
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tags: vaginal fingering, tiddy sucking (jk is definitely a boobs man), semi public sex??, oral (f), so many petnames, dom!kook, brief masturbation (m), multiple orgasms, size kink, multiple positions, cowgirl, creampies, slight somnophilia? (they keep having sex when they're both extremely exhausted), spooning turned to doggy, some very filthy talk, corruption kink, semi degradation kink, the word seed is used once and I actually hate it, some sweet, sweet aftercare, pillow talk, grinding, cumplay, brief handjob (m), edging, cockwarming, they're so in love your honor
Note: people will be shocked at how fast this update has come out and honestly ?? so am I, but tbf half of it is smut so...iykyk ALSO if you haven't checked out the playlist for wicked, you totally should!!
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After the first snowfall, winter had come rolling in with no sign of stopping and just as Jungkook had once said, Penumbra was now buried in snow. 
There was something so captivating about the snow, its crisp frosty delicate nature, how despite the sun being covered in clouds, the snow reflected off the light and made everything so much brighter. 
The land was so desolate and yet so full at the same time, it left a deep yearning in you for the warmth, but in an oddly fulfilling way, it let you rest deeper at night, taking in the great vastness of the land and its minimalism. 
The morning had been busy just as each morning before had been so, Yule was only a week away and the court had many aristocrats staying at the castle making merry. It was such a celebratory time and yet you still felt like a ghost better left in the past.
Your days were not all horrible, but the constant numbness never fully went away, at one time you had wanted to go to Yule in Kimhae to reunite with your parents, but the idea of leaving somehow filled you with as much anxiety as staying.
“Well? What’s on your mind?” Jungkook finally spoke, not looking up from his work book, making sure the last of his bill signs, contracts carefully written out and correspondence dealt with so he wouldn’t be behind on his work when you both made your return.
You had been admittedly antsy, tidying up your bedroom, packing what few trinkets you thought you might want during the nights of your journey, fiddling with your own work and where to put what.
You simply couldn’t sit still.
You didn’t reply for a long moment causing Jungkook to look up from his desk, blue eyes appearing from those dark thick locks of hair.
Sighing you shifted as you set your book against the bed, “…You’ll be mad at me.”
“Well you don’t know until you tell me.” Jungkook didn’t seem worried.
You glanced away once more as Jungkook stood up, rounding his desk to walk over to you, “…What if I was having second thoughts…About going to Kimhae?”
Jungkook curved a brow, “The morning we depart for our trip?”
“Don’t say it like that!” You pouted with an usher.
“Is it really the trip? Or is it something else?” Jungkook replied, brushing off your pout.
Your pout however only furthered because you didn’t have an answer, “I don’t know…I just…this is the first time we’ll be making a public appearance outside of Penumbra since our wedding.”
“And what about it?” Jungkook shifted, crossing his arms, still not understanding what your problem was and truth be told you wish you had a better answer for him. 
“Does that not make you anxious? It makes me incredibly anxious.” You frowned, wringing your hands together, you were anxious about everything truthfully, but the idea of making your first appearance in nearly a year, well…You didn’t know what to expect. 
But then again, Penumbra had prepared you for pretty much everything at this point, there weren't too many boxes left to check off on life events at this point. 
“Why would I be?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, “I’ve nothing to hide nor prove to anyone…If you’re anxious simply because, then it’s understandable,” Jungkook reached out to you, brushing his palm over your cheek before it crept down to your neck, “A lot has happened, I think it’s only natural. But I also know you’ve been looking forward to seeing your parents for the majority of your stay here, it would be imprudent of me to let you cancel our trip at the last minute.” 
Your lips quivered a little, “Even if I’m terrified? What if something happens?” 
Jungkook’s lips curled into a little smile, his fingers curling around your neck, not squeezing, but in a loving hold you had grown so acquainted too, “Then I will be there to stop it from happening,” Jungkook’s forehead pressed down against yours, “I know you’ll regret not going more then if you do.” 
Your eyes fluttered shut before you leaned over to bury your face into the crook of his neck, Jungkook’s arms wrapping around you tight as you murmured, “I hope you’re right.” curling your arms around his waist as you let yourself become engulfed in his warmth and letting it swallow all of your consuming thoughts. 
It stayed like this for a long minute before Jungkook slowly pulled away, looking down at you as he spoke, “I have something I wanted to give you.”
You pulled away from him more to get a better look at him, tilting your head in curiosity, “A gift…?” 
Jungkook snorted, “Something like that. I wasn’t sure if it would be finished in time, but Jimin managed to get it to me last night.” He let go of you before walking over to the bed, leaning down as he pulled down out from underneath. 
You tilted your head at the thick cloth cover as Jungkook stood up, holding it out to you. It was long and thin but held a considerable weight to it, not too heavy, but just enough to let you know it was of incredible quality. 
He nodded at you as a gesture to pull whatever was inside out, opening the draw strings. The first thing you saw was the bright silver crest of a pommel, pulling it out further was a soft leather hand and pulling it all the way out revealed a shortsword around twenty three inches. 
You couldn’t help but let your lips part at just how beautiful it was though, the metal was reflective and the detailing along the fuller, the blade was double edged and as your eyes traveled back to the handle you noticed a sort of…language? Written down the grip.
“It’s the first of its kind,” Jungkook finally spoke, “Noxtria melted with Quicksilver for a lightweight balanced sword but sharp enough to cut through thick metal. Godslayer is it’s name.”
“Godslayer?” You looked up at him. 
“The idea behind this blade was that it would be lighter than air, but have the strength to kill a god. I couldn’t think of a better person to hold the first blade of its kind than my own wife. We’ve been working on your swordsmanship for a long time now and I think it’s time you carry your own sword.” Jungkook nodded, a sort of pride in his eyes as he watched you weigh it, giving it a whirl in your hand. 
The training you had done had definitely made you physically stronger, as while the blade had weight, it wasn’t taxing to hold, “I want you to never feel defenseless by my side, we’re partners and equals and while I hope it never again comes to you needing to use this, I want you to have it if the occasion were to ever arise.” 
You were speechless as you stared at the blade, a reflection of yourself in its metal staring back at you, lowering it you whispered, “Thank you, Jungkook.” 
A small smile pulled on his lips, “Anything for my little sun.” His fingers traced down your cheek, “The case for it is still in the cover, here I’ll help you with putting on the harness.” 
Jungkook took the cloth covering off it to reveal the heavy black sheath and the harness that it attached too, Jungkook had carefully pulled it around your hip, adjusting it until it was snug against your skin, it felt weird having such a thing attached to your body now. 
But there was something oddly…safe about it, as Jungkook said, this was a safety measure and it made you feel as such, you could only hope you would never have to take another soul but….Your fingers unconsciously lifted, rubbing over the spot on your chest, now scarred from where Di Jin had attempted to kill you. 
Jungkook as if knowing what you were thinking tenderly grabbed your hand pulling it away, “It’s difficult to see it now but…” He paused for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, “I think…if I could go back and change things I would, in a heartbeat. But I do think it happened for a reason.” 
Your lips trembled softly, “How could killing someone happen for a reason?” 
“It made a spectacle for one,” Jungkook replied, a certain soft note in his voice was his hand found its way back to your neck, “Those who doubted your ability to hold your own in the court will never question it again. Your words have always had bite, but now you have proof behind them.”
You shook your head, “I don’t see eye to eye with you on this Jungkook.”
“I know you don’t,” Jungkook replied, his thumb soothingly rubbing into your skin, “And I wouldn’t expect anything less, but your respect in the court is much more now than it ever was before. Not only this but…”
Jungkook paused for a long moment gathering his thoughts, “Knowing you have the capability to defend yourself…there will be times when we will have no choice but to be apart,” He sighed, “I will eventually have to lead projects that take me away from Penumbra, knowing you have the means to take care of yourself puts me at ease.” 
“I don’t want you to be apart from me.” You mumbled, anxiety at the thought immediately quelling.
Jungkook let out an amused breath, “That’s not something to worry about now, one thing at a time. If you have the rest of your things settled, we should head down, the sooner we get on the road the sooner we’ll arrive, and the sooner you’ll feel better.” 
“...I suppose.” You mumbled, but Jungkook was not feeding into your pouty expression, no matter how much it was his weakness, he grabbed your thick cloak which had laid abandoned on the bed, wrapping it over your shoulders as he buckled it up, grabbing his own to carry as he held out his arm for you. 
Letting him guide you down you ignored the stares of a group of court ladies staring you down, perhaps in wariness, perhaps because the court had easily taken notice of how close you and Jungkook had become in the last few weeks. 
The consummation of your marriage hadn’t actually changed anything, but Jungkook’s confession of love had really done a number on you both, and every time those sweet words left his lips you had the intention of saying it back. 
And yet every time it felt like the word got stuck in your throat unable to escape, perhaps it was because you were still scared, still in disbelief that Jungkook loved you, but all of his actions, his words, even the way he looked at you, it all screamed love.
Being met with snow on the ground, crunching beneath your feet you let out a breath that you could visibly see, a sensation you still weren’t quite used to, it was freezing cold and the journey would be very long. 
Jungkook had spared no expense to keep you wrapped in very thick layers in hopes that it would keep you warm, but it seemed no matter the amount, you were always cold. 
“Wheein is doing her last rounds of gathering items, she should be out shortly,” Taehyun called out, finishing fixing up your horse’s saddle, Jungkook walked up with you before helping you on and making sure you were situated before saddling his own horse. 
“Snow isn’t too deep yet, we should make a timely arrival,” Yoongi called out, trotting on his own horse up the path ahead before stopping next to Jungkook, “If we make it with not much snowfall, it should only take four days.” 
Your lip curled a little at the estimate, you knew Kimhae was further away then Eunoia, but you had been used to only a day’s travel when you were in Eunoia, they lived further West then Eunoia and a little further south. 
The climate in the West however made it incredibly dry, the further you traveled the less snow there would be, hopefully at least. 
Once Wheein had finished her last round of gathering any last minute packing she had come out with a few guards help and finished loading the pack horses and then mounted her own. It wasn't too big of an entourage of servants, but you had two of Yoongi’s men, himself and of course your two personal servants to attend you both. 
You were nervous for many reasons, showing your face to the outside world, you weren’t sure what reaction you would gain, knowing how the truth of Penumbra had been twisted beyond recognition, you could distinctly remember all the dread you had for two years of being engaged to Jungkook. 
Words that he had abused women in many ways, that he starved all of his servants and that he’d beat them if they disobeyed, rumors swirling that he already had multiple wives and you would be another trophy in his collection, some rumors even going as far as to say he had his dead enemies taken to the castle so he could bath in their blood. 
The list went on and on and every single one was just a rumor, nothing more than foolish lies spread to cause more fear, Jungkook was not a single thing he had ever been stated as, wicked least of all. 
But you were now nervous because you had seen both sides, the truth and lies both, and you couldn’t help but wonder what rumors had escaped Penumbra about you? Dread filled you once more, what twisted way could the world turn your murder of Di Jin even worse? 
That you feasted on his corpse? 
You could briefly taste the raw iron in your mouth that had you holding back a gag, Jungkook’s sharp gaze that had been looking ahead immediately on you, “What’s wrong?” 
You held your hand on your mouth trying desperately hard to not let the memory suck you back into the past, flashes of blood in your mind, cartilage mixed with skin, the raw smell of blood, “Water, can I have some water.” You forced the words out. 
Jungkook wordlessly pulled the water satchel from the side of his saddle, handing it to you, “You’re thinking.” 
You took a large swallow and slowly the faint taste faded back into the nothingness it came from, you shook your head handing it back to him, “I’m trying not too.” 
“You’re not doing a good job of it,” Jungkook replied, making you give him a look, he laughed a little though you spot the concern in his eyes, “Would talking about it make you feel better?” 
You sighed as you shook your head, “I think i’d rather talk about something else,” Lingering on your thoughts would only serve to possibly bring memories even more vivid back, “You’ve been to Kimhae right Jungkook?” 
Jungkook guided his horse a little closer to yours so you’d be able to converse better, “It’s been a long time. We visited when they hosted the War Council. I was…maybe seventeen? This was just in the beginning of negotiating,” Jungkook hummed as he thought about it, “Kimhae was dull in my opinion, they lacked conviction and were very obvious in the fact that they didn’t respect Penumbra or the Jeon name.” 
You listened to him before you let out a laugh gaining his attention, “I remember this quite well, I was visiting Seokjin at the time. I remember spotting you and your father arriving out my window but you were too far for me to get a good look. I remember him complaining though. Telling me you had this haughty look about you, acting as if you were better than him.”
Jungkook scoffed, “I was better than him. I am still better than him. If you were present at the time though…Why had I not seen you?” He looked a bit confused, as obviously women weren’t allowed in the War Room but that didn’t mean they were prohibited anywhere else, he had stayed a full fortnite at Kimhae that trip and not once had he seen you. 
“I made myself unknown on purpose,” You replied, a small frown tugging on your lips, “It was at Seokjin’s insistence of course, he didn’t want you near me with the potential to ‘corrupt me’, as he said.” 
“Corrupt you?” Jungkook scoffed, almost offended, “If we had met properly before our engagement, I feel we could’ve been cordial. Come to think of it I do remember talk of the Eunoian Princess, being in court,” Jungkook’s gaze became pensive as his brows pinched together, “I remember Seokjin gloating about how the fairest princess warmed his bed at night and that he loved nothing more then his name screamed in pleasure.”
You blinked multiple times before your gaze shot to Jungkook, “This was in reference to me?” 
You had known Jungkook long enough now to tell he was absolutely wrought with anger at just the idea, his knuckles tight on the reigns of his horse as he stared ahead, “Mhm. I once told you that we saw him differently, that’s one of the many reasons why. He loved to peacock around gloating about sleeping with you.” 
“Sleeping with me!?” Your mouth parted in somewhat disbelief, “We…” You couldn’t help but let out a scoffed laugh, he had been pressuring you for some time, but you never realized just how desperate he was to go out of his way to lie to other men that you both had slept with one another in such a way. 
And then the embarrassment began to flood in, was this why so many men in his court assumed you were loose, or that you were an easy woman? 
“Well I can promise you he was nothing more than a liar,” You let out another laugh as you shook your head, “Screaming his name in pleasure…The only name that was ushered was my own and even then that was on a lucky day.”
“Your name!?” Jungkook sucked in a harsh breath of air. 
You paused, suddenly realizing what you had just said, and then looking around, there was a good distance between Yoongi up ahead with his fellow guards and Wheein and Taehyun were conversing further behind, Fenrir having walked alongside you awhile now. 
“So Seokjin has gotten to experience that sort of intimacy from you.” Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek as if this was the worst news he could ever receive. 
“It’s not…” You sighed, trying to find the right words, you had never really planned on mentioning what little intimacy you shared with Seokjin, as it wasn’t relevant to your current relationship and truthfully, there wasn’t much to talk about, “I’ve…When we first started to explore an intimate relationship together, you remember me being frightened by it, yes?” 
Jungkook tilted his head, a little confused as to where this was going but nodded regardless. 
“The same could be said for back then- especially back then,” You explained as you lowered your voice a little, “I was nervous to lose my virginity, Seokjin already didn’t like my traditional Eunoian attire, but even moreso it had him acting out, trying to pressure me into giving myself to him. But I could never commit to it. The idea of him leaving me after I gave it too him made me too anxious…And..”
You sighed as you glanced down at the snowy earth, “I hated feeling like nothing more than a sexual fantasy for him. Looking back, it feels as if that was all I ever provided, some sort of exotic fantasy that he could escape to in Eunoia, never truly a person, a soul, just something to make him aroused and fulfilled. And so to keep him satiated but also withhold my own boundary, I offered to pleasure him,” You pressed your lips together, your nose wrinkling, “It wasn’t very often, nor was it very pleasant but well…It kept things from escalating beyond my control.”
Jungkook’s jaw only clenched, “How different things would’ve been if we had met that week. Perhaps you could have been saved from all that trouble.” 
“Things happened the way they did though,” You offered a weak smile, “It’s not something I ever think about anymore, after all, it feels so long ago despite being so recent. And I’m very content now.” 
You reached out to grab his hand as your smile brightened, “I’m happy I saved myself for the right person. I couldn’t imagine it with anyone else.” 
This seemed to soothe Jungkook in the right way, “Well when you say it like that it makes me think you’ll want extra help to keep warm tonight.” 
“Jungkook!” You smacked his shoulder, “What an indecent thing to suggest, in a tent? In the middle of a journey?” 
Jungkook chuckled as he gripped his reins in contentment, “No better time than the present princess.” 
You only shook your head, the hours seemed to go quick as you and Jungkook had talked about this and that, and then a content silence took over as the sky darkened and Yoongi had begun to look for a suitable spot to make camp.
They had managed to find a spot off road closer to the woods where the cold wind was blocked and snow wasn’t as deep, clearing off the snow before getting fresh cut wood to get a fire going, setting up tents didn’t take very long. 
Soon dinner was cooking over the fire, granted you had already eaten an abundant mix of packed cabbage and vegetables tossed together and despite being tired and hungry Jungkook was still easily fending you off as metal clashed together. 
“You’ll need to try harder than that princess,” Jungkook whirled the sword in his hand as you huffed a breath, stretching your aching arms, “If you were to fight an opponent far more skilled than you in battle what would your tactic be?” 
“Run?” You raised your brows, Jungkook seemed to enjoy asking hypothetical questions that you were certain would never happen. 
“Okay but in this scenario you do, what would you do?” He pressed, giving you a moment to regather yourself. 
“Well it depends, if they’re aggressive, which I assume they would be, it’s not difficult to size my lack of experience up in comparison to someone like you, I’d have no choice but to defend until they burn down their energy and then once they tire out I’d make a chance to strike.” You sighed as you lifted your sword back up. 
“Yes that would be the logical way to go about it,” Jungkook hummed, “Contextually speaking. But there are other ways, you can use your environment to assist you, you could also have another ally help or use your size to your advantage. Being smaller means being quicker. Again.” 
You both tapped swords before sparring once more, Jungkook easily more aggressive this time causing you to back step until you back stepped right into the deeper snow causing you to yelp, whining out at the freezing damp sensation seeping through your dress into your skin. 
“That’s not what I meant when I said use the environment.” Jungkook sighed as he rested the flat of the blade on his shoulder. 
You managed to step out back onto the shallow end as you whined out, “I am perfectly aware of what you meant! I’m trying! I just can’t seem to get it…” You let out a defeated sigh as a tremor jolted through your body at catching the cold nip of breeze. 
Jungkook only shook his head somewhat amused, “How about we rest for the evening and get you close to the fire once more.” His hand curling around your waist as you both walked back to camp, “You shouldn’t have such high expectations of yourself, I’ve been training since I was a child, you’ve come a long way for only training the last six months.”
“Sparring is also different then a real duel or battle,” Yoongi spoke, as he had been watching you both the last hour in amusement, “If you’re already doing this good in a spar, you’ll be able to hold your own perfectly fine in either.” 
“This is also true,” Jungkook yawned as he sat down on the large mat, offering a hand to you to help you down, “The adrenaline is different, when it comes to life or death, you fight with more than your all, more than you could ever muster for a spar, even a duel.” 
“I just hope it never comes to that.” You sighed with a shiver, scooting closer to the warmth of the fire. 
“What matters is that you’ll be ready m’lady.” Wheein offered a kind smile as she continued, “And I agree with his Highness, you’ve improved significantly compared to when you first started, it’s something to take pride in, you’ll only improve with time.” 
“The chances are slim but it never hurts to be prepared,” Yoongi chimed in once more, “Dinner is ready.”
The rest of the evening had passed with laughter and fellowship that you found yourself truly enjoying, and at some point you had tried to remember when the last time you had felt this at ease, this…at home? 
Even in Eunoia, tragedy had always surrounded you during your youth, uncertainty of the war and the future as a growing lady and plunged into icy fear as a young woman, you wanted to say you had other moments of relaxation. 
But you couldn’t think of a single time, except for this moment, you found yourself curling up against Jungkook, yawning as your eyes began to droop and your head resting on his shoulder.
When your eyes opened once more, you were uncertain of how much time had passed other than the indication that everyone else had departed to their tents. 
Jungkook had been leaning on one hand, the other wrapped around you as he had stared thoughtfully in the fire before realizing you had awoke, “Are you ready to depart for bed?” 
It was a quiet usher that made you nod with another yawn, letting him help you up as you walked over to your shared tent.
Due to the few people in your party, a circle of tents was formed, yours however just a little closer to the fire upon your request and how could you be blamed on a frigid night such as this? Even Fenrir was curled up right next to the fire, paying you both no mind as he continued to rest. 
The tent wasn’t extremely spacious, but it gave you enough room to get what you needed done without being on top of one another, “Let’s get you out of this.” 
“And into what?” You were more awake now than before, “Did Wheein leave me something?” 
Jungkook looked down at you, a sort of boyish look on his face making you pinch him, “Don’t look at me like that,” He chuckled softly grabbing your hand away from his bicep, “We have plenty of furs, and i’ll let you sleep on the fireside, it’s making me hot being that close anyways.” 
“It’s too cold!” You whined out quietly. 
“You really want to sleep like that?” Jungkook was already stripping himself, “I’m burning up personally.” 
Your lips parted multiple times at the sight of his chiseled muscles, biceps flexing as he pulled down his pants revealing the taunt thick muscles of his thighs, even more notably his undergarments.
“Come,” Jungkook had a small smirk on his face as if knowing your eyes roamed his body despite how hard you were trying to be discreet, “Let me undress you.” 
You let out a discontented noise but it was difficult to say no when he looked like this and he was looking at you like that, shuffling over you sat on your knees in front of him, Jungkook leaned forward peeling off each layer with a sort of lethargy, as if in no big hurry. 
Despite the chilled air you could still feel the lick of fire through the thick cloth tent, dropping the last layer down your shoulders you shuddered, a sort of shyness creeping over you as you felt your nipples immediately hardening at being exposed.
Jungkook helped you shuffled out of the last layer, in nothing more than your panties now, “It’s freezing,” You whispered, trying hard to not let yourself feel self conscious at being close to naked in the tinted firelight that your husband could easily see, “If you’re content let’s go to bed.” 
“Ah,” Jungkook immediately stopped you, eyes staying on your soft perked tits, “The cold will help keep you healthy.” He had a stupid boyish look on his face again as he leaned in, warm breath fanning along your cheek before he leaned down unable to resist parting his lips to take your left tit into his mouth. 
You let out a breath louder than you intended, but the you couldn’t help it, the sharp contrast between the cold air and his warm wet tongue had your body flush with arousal, and clearly you weren’t the only one as your eyes dropped down, a solid print formed showing your husband was also feeling the same. 
“Jungkook, it's too cold for this…!” You whined out quietly despite your legs immediately parting for him to sit between as he moaned against your breast, other hand squeezing your left tit as he pinched your hardened bud between his thumb and finger while suckling on the other.
You forced the moan back into your throat.
Jungkook finally released your bud from his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes full of arousal, “Well then we’ll just have to warm you up then won’t we, my goddess?” His hand slithering down your waist as he parted his lips once more your left tit, sucking harshly making you jolt. 
His fingers pushing beneath your panties as his fingers dragging against your puffy slit as you let out a breathy noise legs parting further for him as you leaned back on your hands, hips shifting to give him more access to your cunt. 
Jungkook was delighted by the invitation you could tell by the way he harshly sucked your bud, middle finger suddenly pushing inside you, sliding in with a slight pinch of discomfort that didn’t last long as he pushed all the way until his knuckle met with your body. 
“We can’t be too loud now,” Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, “So you’ll need to be a good girl for me and be quiet.” 
You bit down on your lip as he pushed his index finger inside you the pinched discomfort returning the sensation of his fingers pushing in and out of your little hole had you relaxing into his touch with a soft moan, walls squeezing around his fingers with each thrust. 
“Mmm that’s a good girl,” Jungkook grinned, pupils dilated in lust as he buried his fingers back inside your cunt, feeling your little walls clench around him once more before he brushed his thumb over your clit a higher pitch whine escaping you, “Ah, ah, remember,” Jungkook looked amused, “You need to be quiet if you want to cum all over my fingers princess.” 
“Kook,” You whispered, eyes closed tight at the feeling of his thumb teasingly brushing over your clit, fingers buried deep inside you as your walls tightened around his digits, “Please…!” 
The cold air was wrapping around your body, but the sharp contracts of his warm tongue and fingers burying inside you.
Jungkook laid you back against the fur before pulling your panties off, “You’ll get your pleasure, but you need to be a good girl and wait,” His voice was deep and soft taking off his own underwear to reveal his heavy, thick cock fully hardened, he parted your legs as you tensed cold air invading your cunt as he pushed his fingers back inside you, your clit extra sensitive from the cold with each little brush of his thumb, every little tease sent a sharp jolt of pleasure in your body.
Wet sticky arousal dripping from you little hole as you squeezed around his fingers, wiggling your hips a little with a whine, “Kook, need more..” You whispered out, not liking this slow teasing game. 
“Patience,” Jungkook replied, fingers pulling out of you only a little just to thrust them back in, he did this once more, even rougher, his pace was just right, hitting that sweet little spot inside your body that your walls clenching each time as your legs twitched. 
Jungkook’s free hand rubbed through your puffy wet slit before he gripped the base of his cock, a hissed grunt escaping him as he slowly pumped his base, watching the lewd act immediately made a soft moan escape you, just the idea of his fat cock inside you had you clenching hard around him as he began arithmetically thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spot.
“Fuuck you like watching me stroke my fat cock for you my love?” Jungkook let out a wicked look, his hand running all the way up his cock, thumb messily smearing his precum over his fat bulbous head before running it back down meanwhile his other hand began forcefully shoving inside your little hole greedily.
His thumb circling your clit as pleasure began shooting through your body, your eyes never leaving his cock that he squeezed tightly in his hand pumping it eagerly as his eyes flickered between your cunt sucking in his fingers needily and your face, entranced by his movements.
It made his shaft throb so bad in pleasure it hurt, he threw his head back with a low moan hips lifting as he thrusted his cock into his fist, feeling your little hole squeeze so tight around him it was difficult to move his fingers.
Jungkook locked eyes with you, that wicked look on his face, “What do you think that little ex lover of yours would say if he could see you right now?” 
“Mmm! Right there…!” You whimpered out, struggling to keep your voice quiet as your legs turned limp at how rough he was thrusting his fingers into that sweet little spongy spot inside you, “Kook, right there…!” 
Jungkook lifted his hips once more, fucking his fist at the way your legs lifted up, bringing them to your chest to obediently spread your cunt further for him, “Would he say I’m corrupting you right now?” 
You had to bite down on your hand to fight back the whines and moans trying to escape you, “Please…! Please.” You kept muttering it, body twisting and building so fast your mind was completely blank aside from the filth Jungkook was whispering to you.
“That I’m tainting his pretty little Eunoian princess, filling her cunt up until she’s completely fucked out cumming all over my fingers?” Jungkook harshly squeezed the base of his cock, keeping his knuckles buried in your cunt as he rapidly hit into your g-spot. 
Jungkook wanted to laugh at the strangled high pitched moan escaping you as you desperately tried to keep it quiet, feeling your warm little walls wrap tight around his fingers as you came, arms wrapping around your face to try and keep your cries of pleasure to yourself.
Jungkook eased you through your orgasm before pulling his fingers out of you, low breathes escaping you as your chest lifted and dropped before letting your arms drop from your face to the crude sight of Jungkook’s fingers in his mouth, eyes closed with soft moan as he licked your cum off them.
“This is the best way I could have ever relaxed.” Jungkook pulled his fingers from his mouth with a content look as he laid down next to you, your eyes however still on his hardened cock. 
“But you…” You frowned. 
Jungkook raised his brows before his eyes dropped to his cock before shrugging, “I don’t cum easily, a good and bad thing I guess. C’mere love.” 
“How do you want me?” Jungkook’s eyes snapped back open as they met yours, as if trying to figure out if he heard you correct, “I want you to feel good too, how do you want me?” 
Jungkook moaned softly closing his eyes once more, unable to look at those cute, eager little eyes of yours, basically asking to be filled up by him. 
“Ride my cock.” Jungkook replied, admittedly getting difficult to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather kill himself then miss the opportunity to cum inside your pretty, puffy little cunt. 
You knew what he meant, you had gathered as much the last time but you just… you awkwardly straddled him, his hands on your hips to help guide you, this wouldn’t be as difficult as last time right?
Grabbing his cock in your hand you heard a gritted hiss through his teeth, rubbing his bulbous head through your wet folds before lining him against your entrance, unlike last time you sank onto it.
Biting your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, rather than a pinch the discomfort was still moderate, but not nearly as much as the first time. 
“Mmm fuck,” Jungkook moaned softly, still unable to process that he was getting to feel your warm little walls wrapping around his thick head, “Does it still hurt?” 
His hands soothingly rubbed up to your waist before back to your hips, “A little,” You whispered, settling your hands on his chest, “I still don’t know what I’m doing.” 
Jungkook opened his lidded eyes, trying his damn hardest to not fall asleep right now, “It’s not difficult, just a matter of practice. Sink a little lower…” Jungkook bit his lower lip a little at watching his cock sink further inside your warm cunt, “Now lift your hips like this.” 
You let his hands guide your movements as you let out a soft whine, the pain subsiding as his cock began to slide inside you with ease, stuffing you so full it was difficult to believe you had something this big inside you. 
Just the feeling of his heavy cock burying inside your cunt made your walls wrap tighter around him, slowly bouncing on his cock as Jungkook’s hands settled on your hips, “Fuck yeah love, just like that, riding my fuckin’ cock like you were made for it.” 
His words of pleasure made you bounce a little faster, taking him a little deeper each time before his hands tightened on your hips, suddenly grabbing you and pulling you all the way down, you let out a tiny whine at being so full of cock with no warning, walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned.
Jungkook’s eyes were closed as he let out a breathy deep moan, “Could fall asleep like this every night, use my pretty little wife as my personal cock warmer, mmm keep squeezing around me like that.” He had a sleepy smirk on his face as his hands wrapped around your ass, urging you to start riding him once more. 
You quickly found you loved being full of cock though, cunt split open by something so thick and heavy, excitement trilled through your body making your walls wrap tight around him as you began bouncing on his cock.
Letting out quiet moans at the feeling of his shaft hitting all the right places inside you, “Mmm yeah, oh…fuck…” You whined out softly, sitting up right as you bounced all the down his cock as you grinded against his pubic bone.
Jungkook forced his tired eyes open to the amazing sight of you, his pretty wife completely naked bouncing on his cock, tits bouncing and face fucked out, clearly pleasuring yourself now, “Make me cum,” He moaned out softly, “Let me fill that pretty little cunt up.” 
You kept trying to bite back your whines as your hips became more messy in bouncing, uneven and unsteady as pleasure quickly built inside you, sinking back on his cock as your walls tightened, moaning just a hair louder as you creamed all over his cock. 
Jungkook was tired, sleep near taking him the same way you took his cum, letting it shoot deep inside you as you swiveled your hips, taking every lost drop he’d give as quiet breathes filled the tent, your own eyes closed with that same unmistakable tiredness. 
Jungkook let out a tired smile, “What a good girl.” He pulled you onto his chest, shifting you both to be buried beneath the blankets and furs, being skin to skin made you realize just how cold you had been. 
Jungkook’s skin was like fire, hot to the touch and your own personal little fire, curling up against him, your eyes immediately fell heavy, sleep had never felt so peaceful as being skin to skin with your husband.
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The journey to Kimhae had been rather uneventful and what few encounters you had with wolves and even a bear, Fenrir had easily warded them off, your baby having grown so much in the last months now standing just a little taller than your horse.
Jungkook had been up ahead chatting with Yoongi for awhile now, something regarding plans on resuming the Eastern movement when you returned from Yule.
Wheein had been riding by you for awhile now in a comfortable silence aside from a few comments to Fenrir who had been running ahead in the snow and finding random branches to be thrown, the only problem being they were too heavy for you to toss. 
“Something on your mind Wheein?” You finally asked, having noticed a faraway look in her eyes for a good while now. 
Her eyes met yours before she gave a small, weak smile, “Nothing incredibly important I just…” She faltered a little, “I know the past cannot be changed but, I can’t help but feel like so many events could have been avoided if it weren’t for me.” 
You straightened up, frowning immediately at her words, “What would make you say that?”
Wheein hesitated to speak, “...What happened, with my execution, you…” It looked as if it was physically difficult to attempt to finish her sentence, “I know how important keeping your culture intact is for you. You’ve done nothing but try to become a Penumbrian Princess, and for you to be put in a position where you had to compromise your own personal oath and belief…” Wheein let out a shaky breath, visibly puffing in the cold air as her eyes looked watery, “I feel as though I haven’t given you a proper apology M’lady.” 
Your heart felt like it was twisted, “You have nothing to apologize over Wheein. I am still mourning many things but I…I don’t regret what I did. I said it once and I will say it again, I was willing to do anything to get you back. Di Jin was the assassin who attempted to kill me, which started this entire mess…I don’t know how much you’ve heard about the Estate…”
Wheein’s lips stayed in a frown, cheeks flush and rosy from the cold wind as she adjusted her shawl, shaking her head, “Only whispers of rumors to what happened, and my own assumptions when you intervened on my execution.” 
You let out a shaky sigh, trying your best to detach yourself from the memory as you recalled the events that lead up to that fateful night, “They had lured Yoongi away and I foolishly sent him in good faith that nothing would happen but…Di Jin revealed himself that night revealing that he had come to finish what he started. He almost did,” Your hand trembled as you pressed it against your chest, “Then he got closer to me, trying to kiss my neck and…I don’t know.”
And that was the funniest part, you still had vivid clips of what happened in your head, but it was all so fast, so gorey, your mind had blotted out a lot of it, “One minute he was on top of me, and the next minute I was covered in blood.” 
There it was, that distinct iron on your tongue, it made you sick to your stomach, “And I didn’t stop after he was dead,” Your lips trembled as you whispered, “That’s the part that scares me the most. He was dead and I kept going, I...it was like I was possessed, unable to stop. I felt…” It felt like bile was beginning to rise in your throat as you swallowed it back, “Good. Powerful, invincible in that moment, feeling his flesh in my mouth, the taste of his blood on my tongue-” 
Your hand suddenly grabbed your lips, trying to swallow back the bile which risen much faster, immediately grabbing the water satchel that hung off the saddle of your horse, taking a long drink from it to try and wash what you had just admitted away. 
It had been plaguing the back of your mind every moment it was quiet, the fact that something inside you liked it, even enjoyed the depraved act, showing someone who had disrespected you and your heritage, making a mockery of it for so long, a little devil inside you secretly wishing you had finished what you had started, to devoured him the way your ancestors would. 
Even now a little voice in the back of your head was thrilled by it, it never ceased to make you sick, Weak in the stomach with shame every time it crossed your mind, it felt so heretical to think let alone voice aloud, the extent of how much a secret part of you enjoyed it. 
“I am so sorry Princess,” Wheein whispered, clearly hurting for you as she held back her tears, inhaling sharply, “I still can’t believe what’s happened. I’m sure being away from Penumbra will be a good break for all of us.” 
“If I had just…” You had to stop yourself from saying what you wanted, you had the ability to heal Wheein’s mother, maybe if you had listened to Baba Enàir more carefully, had been more dedicated to your studies as a child…perhaps this whole thing could have been prevented if you had been the one to heal Wheein’s mother, disputing any claims, “I’ll never send you away so often like that without company, I never want to put you in such a compromising position Wheein and for that I am sorry.”
“We all have our grievances about what happened.” Wheein smiled sadly, “But what counts is that we are both alive and well, but…Something else does plague me.” 
You tilted your head, patiently waiting for her to continue as she gathered her thoughts, the wind blowing her black locks of hair back as she squinted her eyes, “We still never caught who sent the assassin. What if this happens once more?” 
You frowned, you had thought this as well, “Something tells me, whoever did this will try a different tactic next. We must remain vigilant, perhaps moreso in Penumbra then even in Kimhae.” You nodded in thought, “I do agree though, this will be good for all of us.” 
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This had become routine at night it seemed, waiting for everyone else to depart to bed before being guided back yourself, undressed by your husband’s large, warm hands, and then taken whatever way he wanted, with his hands, his tongue, his cock, you weren’t picky. 
You however were starting to become used to the sensation of his cock spliting you open, his cum dripping down your thighs, an unfamiliar soreness between your legs that had a sweet ache that made you crave more. 
You had never understood the idea of physical intimacy in the past, it always made your skin crawl at the idea, but then again, you never had a partner you felt you could trust like this.
More than anything, you loved being close to him like this, loved that you could be so intimate with the person you trusted more than anyone, his arms wrapped around you, laying slightly on top of your back, keeping you warm just as he promised every night. 
It was odd, the comfort it brought feeling his warm cum dribbling from your little hole as you yawned, eyes closing as you dozed off in his arms. 
It was still late into the night when you awoke to his lips pressing on your neck, moaning softly as his hips rutted into you, cock hardened once more much to your sleepy surprise, “Mm, need you my love.” His voice was much deeper, telling you he was also half asleep, “Dreamt of your pretty little cunt, letting me fill it up.”
“Mmm Kook.” You mumbled out, eyes closing as you felt your leg being propped further up to give him better access to your little entrance, his arms tightened around your waist as he managed to line his cock up before pushing it in. 
A soft sleepy moan escaped you, an entirely new position you were acquainted with but something about it made you feel so full, his cock pushing all the way inside you until his hips were flush with yours. 
Each lazy thrust of his hips had soft noises escaping you, your eyes shutting in tired bliss at his cock pushing past your little walls, filling you to the brim each time, throbbing as the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy little spot. 
Jungkook moaned as he buried his cock inside you once more, his movements having paused forcing your eyes back open, was he asleep? Your walls suddenly squeezed around his cock at being so split open by him.
This elicited a moan from his lips that sounded like pure sex, “Your cunt is heaven,” He mumbled in your skin, “Could keep my cock buried inside you forever.”
Not moving was stirring you further, making you more awake as you whined, “Jungkook, move…!” You wiggled your hips a little earning a small thrust from him.
“Think I’ll asleep like this,” He moaned once more into your skin, “Like the way your cunt wraps around me like this when I’m splitting your cunt open.” 
Jungkook moaned at feeling your cunt squeeze around him once more at his words, just like he had hoped, “Just go back to sleep my love,” He mumbled in your ear, hand pulling around to cup your tit in his hand as he massaged it making you whine in frustration as your hips began to pull and lift, sliding his cock in and out of your cunt just a little. 
“Mmm fuuck, sweetheart go to sleep.” Jungkook’s voice was a pitch higher than before, his free hand almost guiding your hips though as you fucked back against him, and your eyes were closed but sleep was not on your mind. 
Your lips parted with a soft whine at the new sensation this position gave you with him behind, his cock slide inside you just the right way brushing that sweet little spot with each bounce of your hips, it had you rapidly clenching around his cock. 
Muffling your moans into your blankets as you pushed all the way back against him wiggling your hips as pleasure throbbed throughout your cunt, feeling arousal dripping from your hole as his cock slid back inside you with ease as you let out a pathetic whine, walls wrapping harsh around him but it just wasn’t quite enough to get yourself to orgasm. 
Jungkook let out a sleepy chuckle, “Working yourself up are you?” 
It wasn’t fair…! He woke you up and you were somehow the one falling apart on his cock desperate to cum, “Koo, please.” You whimpered out quietly, shifting yourself a little to be better able to lift your hips up to his, giving his cock better access to slid in and out of your little hole with ease. 
“Mmm shit, your acting like a bitch in heat,” He moaned softly, eyes dropping to your cunt that kept backing into his cock, “You want to be fucked?” He whispered deviously in your ear. 
And Jungkook knew you did, could feel the way your walls wrapped so tight around his throbbing cock, wanting so desperately to reach your climax. 
“Jungkook…” You whispered urgently. 
“Say it.”
You let out a frustrated noise, pausing your movement but Jungkook wasn’t having it, his hand wrapping around your neck as he gave it a harsh squeeze, letting out a small gag as his voice deepened in your ear, “Beg for it little princess, beg for me. Beg for my cock.” 
Jungkook suddenly thrusted inside you, harshly making your body jolt as you whined out, shaking your head, this only made him thrust rougher causing you to squeeze around him in excitement, “Mmm like this, feels…! Good.” You whimpered out quietly, your body twitching as pleasure blossomed in your cunt, you were so close…!
Jungkook buried back inside you, stopping once more causing a louder fussy whine to escape you, his hand squeezing around your neck once more, “If you like this then you’ll love what’s next. But you need to tell me, c’mon,” His hips lazily swiveled before giving short thrusts, edging your body as your hands curled into fists, “Tell me you want my cock, that you want your pretty little cunt destroyed by me, that you want to be filled with my cum.”
You could feel saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, his cock teasing your body with such short movements it had you whimpering, “Koo’, fuck me, please…! Need you’, need your cock, anything…!” 
Jungkook moaned as your quiet frantic plea’s as he suddenly pulled out of you, a sharp whine escaping you as he swatted your ass to be quiet, manhandling you onto you stomach as he kneeled between your legs you felt confused before your hips were lewdly lifted, presenting your cunt to him. 
You didn’t have any time to adjust or even think before his cock pushed back inside you, a moan much louder than you meant for it to escape your lips at an entirely new, better sensation, every movement of his cock had you cunt squeezing in pleasure. 
“Mmm yeah, you like being made to take it from behind?” Jungkook moaned, keeping your hips up as he thrusted inside your little entrance, watching it split open for his cock before greedily sucking it in, “Maybe this is how your little dryad kin had children? Fucking like animals?” He whispered out, hearing a gurgled whine from you only made his thrusts that much more forceful, the sound of his balls smacking into your skin music to his ears, “Being made into nothing more than a bitch desperate for cock.” 
The side of your face was planted into the ground, eyes shut in pleasure at just how good it felt, his cock hitting every little sensitive spot inside you, his demeaning words that would’ve sent flames of angry through your body once upon a time only filled you with excitement, enjoying how he manhandled you how rough he was starting to thrust, no regard for whether your cunt could take it or not. 
Your mind was filled with all sorts of unholy things, not realizing how much you were beginning to moan, enjoying the way he had a hand pressed into your back forcing you down on the ground, his balls smacking your skin and his cock pushing past your tight walls. 
“Koo’...! ‘m gonna..! Mmm!” Your moans were gurgled, desperate, cunt rapidly squeezing around his cock, a feeling he had quickly grown to love as you crumbled beneath him, at his mercy as he roughly thrusted, burying his cock deep inside you as he quickly leaned over you, chest flush with your back as his hips became faster.
Just as you let out the whinest, loudest cry his hand covered your mouth to muffle it, tears began to build in your eyes at how powerful the pleasure was building in your body, your legs uselessly twitching and your body convulsing.
But it was all useless as his cock kept sliding in and out of your small hole, “Go on sweetheart, mm know how bad you wanna cum. I see those pathetic little tears. Cum sweetheart, cream all over my fat cock, make it nice and messy for me.” 
Your body was being jolted with every thrust of his hips, your clit aching to be touched as your cunt was full of his thick shaft, his dirty words whispered in your ear making you throw a whiny pathetic fit as your walls squeezed even tighter around him, so desperate to be obedient. 
“C’mon princess,” Jungkook moaned tantalizingly in your ear, his hips pounding into you with nice lengthy thrusts, wet lewd sounds coming from how soaked you were, “Can feel it, feel how bad that pretty little cunt wants to cum, squeezing around me so tight, fuuck, that’s it, c’mon.” Jungkook wasn’t intentionally edging you but god did it feel good, you were moaning and crying into his hand, tears slowly beginning to trickle down your face at how good you felt. 
Not a single thought in your head other than his cock stuffing you full, purposely dragging into the little spongy spot each time just edging you a little closer each time to your release.
“Does your little pussy feel good?” He teased you, a wicked grin on his face as his hips pushed fully inside you, giving short thrusts to keep you as full of cock as possible, “You like presenting this little hole to me? Letting me fuck my seed deep inside, my pretty wife who swore she’d never let me cuff her in bed? How does it feel knowing I’m going to fill your pretty little cunt up?”
Jungkook let out a low moan, feeling your muffled voice cry out against the skin of his palm as your cunt rapidly clenched around him cumming so hard it felt like your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. 
And Jungkook wasn’t stopping, his hips slammed into you, wet lewd sounds filling the tent and his balls smacking into your skin as he kept his hand on your mouth to keep your moans and cries of pleasure quiet, unable to subdue them yourself anymore, as the pleasure kept going, his hips jostling you around before you felt it.
“Fuck!” Jungkook growled out, burying his cock inside you as he came, roughly pumping his cock inside you as he let out a shaky moan, letting your greedy cunt suck every drop from him as he moaned, perhaps louder then even he intended. 
After a few more seconds he collapsed on top of you, making you whine, sniffling as you wiped your face as you felt his hand drag to your waist, stroking it tenderly as he pressed a kiss against your neck, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pressing another kiss against your skin, “Made for me. Only me.” His hand squeezed your waist, before he laid flat on his back shifting you around to lay against him, your body curling up as you set your head against his chest.
Your thighs were aching and your hand trembled if you looked close enough as you dragged it over his chest.
And for the first time, with the fire illuminating the inside of the tent, you took the time to drag it over the rough skin of his chest and upon closer inspection noticed all sorts of marks, curiously you shifted once more. 
“Was twice not enough for my little sun?” Jungkook chuckled as you straddled his waist, his hands wrapping around your hips, “We’ll need to start retiring earlier if you want me to have more stamina.” 
“I’m not…!” You felt your body flush, trying to remind yourself that you were in fact naked right now, “I’m just looking.”
“Mmm, so am I.” Jungkook’s eyes trailing down your exposed body to your cunt, watching the white substance dripping out onto his skin, “If I weren’t already exhausted I’d already have you bent over again.” 
“Jungkook!” You whispered out, starting to feel embarrassed now, “Stop…please.” 
He let out a tired, boyish smile and staring down at him you couldn’t help but mirror it, he looked much younger like this, more like his age, eyes lidded from tiredness as his hands wrapped further, fingers digging into your ass, “Is it a crime to admire my wife? You’re only sitting on top of me naked.” 
“I’ve seen you shirtless many times now,” You decided to no longer entertain his dirty thoughts, slowly lowering yourself down his chest making his fingers squeeze tighter around your ass, “But i’ve never truly paid attention.”
“To my godly physique?”
This made you both quietly laugh as you shook your head, unable to not be endeared by this new playful side of him you had never seen, “How did you know?” You whispered back, a light tease in your voice as your hand traced over his sternum, “I meant the scars…How many battles did you fight in?” 
Jungkook palmed your ass in his hands, massaging the flesh as he yawned, eyes closing as he hummed potentially trying to recall, “Too many to count honestly, I was drafted before the Five Year War started as to be properly prepared.” 
Your fingers traced over each scar, some long and thin, others short and deeper, few discolored still having never properly healed, others faded and hardly visibly, “How’d you get this one?” Your finger’s stopped on his left right, a circular scar it was small, as if he had been pierced.
Jungkook’s eyes slowly lidded once more, following where your fingers pressed, “When we first rode to Rolon for war, an archer shot me right off my horse, my only saving grace from death was the wind otherwise it would’ve pierced my heart, y'know it’s said the Rolon Archer’s were trained since children, they could shoot a coin from over a hundred yards away.”
“You were injured before the battle had even begun?” You whispered out, perhaps a little amused at his story. 
Jungkook’s hand trailed down the back of your thigh, pulling them apart just a little making your hips brush over his skin, the feeling of wet stickiness rubbing over his skin, “It was my first endeavor by myself, my men were counting on me to lead them, you can imagine it was a pretty pathetic sight.”
“So how did you manage to siege them if you could not get close?” You tilted your head, resting your elbows down his chest, your hips appeasing him as you softly grinded down on his pubic bone. 
“We had all camped outside their outer districts, preparing ourselves,” Jungkook let out a pleasured hum, eyes closed once more and fingers trailing back to your ass before settling at your steady, soft movement, “We could not get close to their borders without them shooting us down by the tens if not hundreds. And so we would have to make ourselves unknown, invisible.”
A quiet moan escaped him at the feeling of your hips pulling just a little further down just above where his cock was beginning to stir despite his own lethargy. 
“Invisible?” Tiredness was beginning to pull at your lids but you enjoyed this too much, the conversation, the feeling of your puffy, cum covered slit grinding against him, making him break focus, “Surely that wouldn’t be possible?” 
“Invisible to the faraway eye that is,” Jungkook’s brows pinched, fingers gripping your ass a little tighter as your hips dragged just along the base of his hardening cock, weepy and sensitive from having already came inside you twice this night, “Mmm, I didn’t think you’d be such a little lust driven succubus once we consummated.”
It made you grind him just a little harder, the feeling of his cock bobbing before it smacked against your cunt, fully hardened and precum smearing against your asscheek. 
“I’m trying to have a conversation,” You teased, hands traveling over the expanse of his chest before your fingers found his dark nipples, curiously you pinched them a little, “You’re the one that’s making it sexual.” 
A restrained moan escaped him as his eyes cracked open, you couldn’t help your curiosity, fascinated at his different reactions to different things, after all, you were learning his body just as much as he was learning of yours. 
“Sex is dripping off of you,” Jungkook sighed, feeling your hips tease his cock once more, puffy slit rubbing down it’s base before back to his pubic bone, “I can’t help the way my body reacts to it, climbing on top of me naked isn’t a productive way to have a conversation.” 
You couldn’t help but close your eyes briefly, relishing in the feeling of his heady, heavy cock dragging through your puffy slit, coating it in a mixture of your wetness and cum. 
Feeling his shaft rubbing into your sensitive clit was you let out a soft moan, “You didn’t continue your story. How were you invisible.” Your hips dragged back to his pubic bone, pausing your movement to try and refocus your conversation. 
Jungkook let out a displeased sound, fingers digging against your ass once more, “If you want to hear my stories, keep entertaining me.” 
“Can you stay focused?” You gave him a mischievous smile, slowly pulling back up to your elbows, his eyes immediately on your tits. 
“As long as you don’t make me cum,” Jungkook retorted right back, a cocky grin on his face, “Well?” You tried not to shy away from his expression as your hips slowly began rubbing on him once more, teasing the base of his cock as he let out a soft pleasured moan, eyes slowly closing once more to enjoy the feeling as he recalled, “I proposed to my men that we would camouflage ourselves with the terrain, we covered ourselves in mud and moss, whatever greenery we could and crawled on the earth to evade their eyes.” 
His fingers dragged down to the back of your thighs once more as your hips dragged a little lower down his shaft as your clit throbbed making a soft moan escape you, “That’s how you managed to siege their capitol Montclair?”
His fingers pulled your thighs apart, opening your slit a little more as it rubbed along is shaft back to his base, “Mmhm, like that,” He whispered out at feeling your hips pause at the base of his cock, wiggling a little to push it further between the lips of your cunt. 
Silence had suddenly taken over as your eyes shut, enjoying being able to pleasure your husband as your hips slowly rode the base of his cock, letting it slip against your lips and rub along your clit.
This type of pleasure was slow, tantalizing, making his hips rut a little, gliding with ease against your soaked cunt, “What about this one.” Your fingers briefly brushed along his left breast, a long wicked line crossing it as you slowed your hips back down. 
“Training accident when I was younger,” Jungkook murmured out, sounding half asleep, “I had assumed Hoseok was going for a lower strike but he tricked me, he got too close and accidentally sliced me right across the chest, it was a larger wound when it had first happened.” 
Jungkook had a faint smile on his lips as his hands dragged to your waist, keeping a firm grip to encourage your hips, his eyes pulled open only a little, “He wouldn’t stop crying while profusely apologizing to me, saying he’d do anything to keep the wrath from my father at bay.” 
“Did he hear about it?” Your moan was mixed with your soft laugh, grinding down as your clit dragged against his skin.
Jungkook’s breath hitched, “No, it only went as far as my aunt. She merely laughed it off, saying it was good practice for the real deal.”
You paused your movement, hands tracing down his particularly slim waist, just at the bottom of his ribcage, “And this?”
You lifted yourself up as Jungkook opened his eyes, “No looking.” You whispered out. 
This made him confused before he let out a quiet laugh, closing his eyes once more, “I’ve seen it already princess, you can’t hide anything from me at this point.”
“I’m…testing…it’s lewd.” You tried not to be embarrassed as you sat down on his taunt, thick muscular thighs, legs still parted as you situated your cunt against his base once more, “How did you get that scar?” You prompted him once more. 
Jungkook seemed to be having an increasingly harder time focusing as he felt it, your cunt making contact with the sensitive underside of his cock, your hips lifting to drag against his shaft, “It was when we attempted war with Kyoto, I was in the frontlines with the other underlings and an assassin of Kyoto had made his way into the trenches.”
Jungkook’s jaw was clenched as he felt your hand wrap around the head of his cock, giving short as he let out a breathy moan, hand running through his hair, “He was a full grown man and we were nothing more than boys pretending to be men. His sword longer than us all,” He bit down on his lip at your hand squeezing his cock, your cunt sliding against his base, “He cut two of the other underlings in half with just one swing, I was almost the third, I had barely managed to jump back in time but the tip of his blade still cut through me, blood was everywhere.”
“How did you live?” You whispered out, sadness somewhere deep inside you filled your heart through the haze of lust. 
“Jimin had managed to jump on his back,” Jungkook let out another breath moan at feeling your hand drag down his cock, “Stabbed him in the neck, he choked on his own blood as they all rushed to get first aid for me. I almost bled out that night but by some miracle they had managed to stop the bleeding and get me stitches.” 
Jungkook groaned as his hands curled into fists, pleasure becoming much stronger than it was supposed to, “Enough please.” 
The movements ceased, “Does it not feel good?” 
“It feels too good, I told you to not make me cum.” Jungkook sighed softly in relief as he felt you change positions back to your original, the weight of your body situated once more fully on top of him, “Mmm warm my cock.”
“I don’t understand how that works.” You whispered out, a bit embarrassed, you were a fast learner but you still didn’t know all the ends and outs of how all of this worked. 
This made Jungkook laugh softly, endeared at your words as he forced his tired eyes back open, “It’s simple honestly, sit on my cock, let it stay warm inside you. I’ll be able to focus and recall events more better that way.”
“Really?” You replied skeptically.
“Mhm, what else do you want to know?” Jungkook let a crooked smirk tug on his lips as you grabbed the base of his cock, obediently doing as he told you, the fat head pushing inside you, a noise escaping you both. 
Slowly you slid down his cock until your hips were flush with his, “Mmm, what now?” It was hard to focus now having him stuffing you so full. 
Jungkook let out a long content sigh, “Nothing, this is it. Ask away.”
His hands lovingly stroked your hips as you suddenly struggled to speak, feeling his fat large cock throbbing inside you, walls clenching around him as your arousal dripped.
Jungkook let out an amused breath, “Cat got your tongue?”
You shook your head, slowly leaning back down to rest yourself on his chest, but somehow laying made your body feel even more full, “This one?” Your words were soft, trembled with a quiet whine, fingers brushing over his right bicep, a thin long line curving around it. 
Jungkook’s hands stroked your waist before trailing over your back, “It happened during our siege of Prokiev, the battle happened overnight and it was dark out, fire my only source for my fight with their royal guard captain, our adrenaline was running out and we were both ragged, he threw a sloppy blow aiming for my chest but I moved away and back, the edge of his blade managed to pierce right through my chainmail. It wasn’t a serious injury.”
Jungkook let out a soft pleasured sigh at your little walls clenching around him, seemingly unable to relax with him buried this deep and unmoving in your cunt, “It serves as a reminder though.”
“To what?” You whispered out, setting your head down on his chest, biting down on your lip once more, trying so, so hard to focus on his words and not his cock, it felt like he was completely stretching you out, hitting all the way up into your stomach though surely that wasn’t possible. 
Even if it felt like it was. 
“That many want me dead, sharpening their blades that even a shallow cut could one day maim me or better yet kill me. Sometimes I wonder how I survived,” Jungkook murmured, eyes closing as he fought the sleep off, “Each of these scars is proof that I’m still here, that somehow despite all of the odds, whether it was pure luck, or pure skill, I lived another day. Learned, grew from my mistakes.”
Your eyes had fallen shut, tiredness pulling you into a lull as you felt a blanket being pulled over you, engulfing you in warmth once more. 
You let out a ghost of a whine at feeling the slightest rut of his hips, cock making sure it was buried as far inside you as possible, Jungkook pressed a kiss against your head, “Something above let me live, let me marry you, the love of my life.” 
Your eyes had become heavier with each passing gentle press of his lips, you had soon fallen asleep to the sweet sensation of his lips feathering your skin, hands stroking your side, cock keeping you full and ushers of love on his lips. 
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While the journey had been safe and overall good travel, to say you were relieved to be in Kimhae was an understatement, the air was cold, but it didn’t have that wet sharp feeling it did in Penumbra, and only a bit of frost covered the ground now.
Your thickest layers were shedded during travel as it got warmer much to your relief, more than anything you were ready to see your family, and even more so ready to sleep in a proper bed and rest.
You couldn’t voice it aloud to anyone but your thighs were sore from not only riding your horse but also from other nefarious activities late into the night, you were absolutely ready to stand on your own two feet for the next week. 
Upon entering the gates of Kimhae the sight was familiar enough to you, elegant towering buildings, busy towns people who all seemed to pause from their business at the sight of not just you but your husband, whispers broke out and if your life in Penumbra had helped you with one thing, it was being able to ignore the stares.
Riding next to your husband as you made your way through the capitol until you arrived at the large gates of the palace, the courtyard open and lush, what you hadn’t expected was the sight of someone so familiar and yet…now had become a total stranger to you. 
Kim Seokjin, the man you had once thought was the love of your life, only to realize that this was a feeble, childish type of love, the type of love you think is love until you truly fall in love. 
He stood tall and proud as his eyes locked onto your figure, standing in white double buttoned vest and long sleeve, royal blue cape cascading behind him dramatically. 
He looked like something out of a fairytale and you couldn’t deny Seokjin was just as handsome as you remembered, clean cut and warm skin. 
Coming to a stop, your vision of him was somewhat blocked by your husband, and for the first time seeing them almost side by side made you realize just how different they were, Jungkook dawned in all black, hair array from travel and longer then when you had first met, well overdue for a trim. 
His look, all too familiar, neutral but often coming across as dark and brooding to a person who wasn’t well acquainted with him.
And you supposed you must have seemed different from your old self as well, you no longer wore flowery apparel light apparel, now often dawned in black and maroons, today no different though you had gone without the fuss and feathers to make travel easier, a plain black gown with an under layer of red peeping out, sleeves dramatically long but slits having formed to make movement easier, another white long sleeve layer beneath to keep you warm as well as curl up to your neck.
Jungkook had already dismounted his horse, holding his hands out to you as you stood up in your saddle, pulling your leg over before you felt the security of his hands wrap around your waist, lifting you down safely. 
You offer him a tiny smile of thanks as you turn to face Seokjin, the hand staying curled around your waist however did not go unnoticed by you as you both walked to greet your ex-lover. 
“Seokjin, I cannot thank you enough for your invitation,” You gave him a soft smile, perhaps a sort of soft spot for him still lingered in your chest, after all, while your love might not have been deep, it was something, and you’d take it for what it was, “It’s been a long time.” 
“Yes, I’m relieved to see you alive and well, it’s been too long.” Seokjin’s eyes were locked onto you and only you, and briefly you felt a sort of severed connection. 
His eyes drilling into you with a sort of passion that you only blinked at with a friendly polite smile, him taking your hand into his own as he lifted it to his lips, “Truthfully I don’t think enough time has passed.” 
Your hand was suddenly snatched away by a much larger one, Jungkook’s expression had quickly gone from neutral to one hundred percent leering and unfriendly, that typical icy Jeon glare as he spoke coldly, “Kim Seokjin.”
Seokjin’s eyes burned into the sight, Jungkook’s hand holding onto your own in a sort of protective manner, as if he assumed the man’s kiss to your hand would maim you.
“Jeon Jungkook.” Seokjin’s eyes twisted into a glare, but it simply didn’t have the same bite as Jungkook’s, “I can’t say I remember inviting the Jeon’s.”
“Interesting you say that,” Jungkook replied, a haughty cold look on his face, “Given one found its way to my wife,” He glanced down at you, a squeeze of his hand on your waist and his hand releasing your own only for his fingers to trace your jawbone, “Only the most beautiful Jeon.”
Jungkook’s thumb tugged at your lower lip and you couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze, somewhat flustered at such an open display of affection, “What my husband means to say is we’ve come here to represent Penumbra together, I hope this will be the first of many Yule’s we can all come together and celebrate the Rite of Peace.” 
You could tell by Seokjin’s gritted smile that whatever he had anticipated this was not it, it softened however as his eyes landed on you, “For you, I’d do anything Y/n.” His gaze became more sharp as they locked back onto Jungkook, “...And I suppose that goes for you as well. I hope your stay in Kimhae treats you well.”
“As do I.” Jungkook retorted, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’d like to rest after our journey.”
You briefly glanced up at Jungkook, brow furrowing in a little bit of annoyance, you understood that Jungkook absolutely did not like Seokjin in the least, but couldn’t he be a little more discreet about it? 
This being your first public appearance as a couple meant you’d have to be careful how you presented yourselves, if he wanted to quarrel with the man you did not care as long as he did it in private where prying eyes and ears couldn’t witness it.
“Of course,” Seokjin almost sneered at him, making you shuffle a bit uncomfortable at seeing the men nearly bearing teeth at one another, “My head maid will show you to your room.” 
Seokjin gave you one last look, and you couldn’t quite describe it, it was one of yearning and longing, and yet it wasn’t reciprocated as you allowed Jungkook to lead you both into the palace following behind the maid. 
“What was all of that about?” You whispered reprimanding to Jungkook. 
Jungkook only looked ahead, “He touched you.” 
“...He was being polite.” You reasoned, you had never seen such displays from Jungkook before- well aside from the time Claudin had taken your hand. 
Come to think of it, you supposed this was less rash then when he pressed a knife into Claudin’s neck for so much as grabbing your hand to kiss, truthfully you should be thankful it didn’t escalate so quickly to that. 
Stepping into your guest room you paused, realizing this was the room you used to stay in when you were a maiden...Seokjin probably still has the route memorized…had he thought you’d come to Kimhae alone?
You shook the ridiculous notion away as you took your cloak off, Jungkook shut the door to your shared room, “He touched you.” He emphasized it. 
You turned around, raising your eyebrows, not understanding what he was getting at, Jungkook huffed, “Men who touch women like that aren’t being friendly.” 
“It was my hand!” You pouted, “You’ve touched my hands plenty of times.”
“And look where it led.” Jungkook countered as he took his own outer apparel off, “That’s just the way it goes. And perhaps because I also know you’ve sucked his cock-”
“Jungkook!” You cried out, embarrassment flooding through you, “Don’t say it so loud!” 
This made Jungkook chuckle as he sat on the foot of the bed, “Hmm, you’ve never sucked my cock before come to think of it.” He laughed even louder at suddenly being hit with the cloak you launched at him.
“I am tired and taking a nap, you can either join me or sleep on the floor if you keep being crude.” You kicked your riding shoes off as you pulled the covers curling up in bed, his body immediately beside you, arms wrapping around your waist. 
“I can’t help it,” Jungkook replied, snickering into your shoulder, “You’re easy to tease.” 
674 notes · View notes
bonesandchalamet · 5 months
Text
in this world, it’s just us — Finnick odair
masterlist | pairing: Finnick odair x reader
summary: in a world where hunger games don’t exist anymore it’s just you and Finnick
warnings: fluff
a/n: finally writing for finnick 🤭
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you can hear his breath escape his lips, it’s faint, but it’s all that matters. he’s alive in your arms and in your bedroom.
nights were never the same, consisting of some form of him muttering incoherent words, legs thrashing, and thick sweat glistening against the sheets. the hunger games haunt him, even in a world where he’s safe.
there’s no president snow, there’s no more kids being hunted by others. the odds were in everyone’s favor, and people could sleep well again. except those in their respected districts victors villages.
the soft grunt that escapes his lips indicates he’s awake now. he rolls carefully onto his side, almost like he doesn’t want wake you, but you’ve been awake for some time. reflecting on what the nights could’ve been if finnick never was picked at such a young age.
“you’re doing it again.” he mutters, you feel him shift closer to you, his warm clammy skin pressed against yours, “you’re thinking about the if’s.”
he tsk’s you, and yanks the covers off your bodies to reveal the cool air of the house. it feels nice, after tossing and turning in the heat trapped sheets, you allow yourself to stretch out against the mattress and watch finnick rise for the day.
no day was ever the same, but finnick needed a new task everyday, or else he’d go insane. he needed to occupy himself from the loss and maybe even the ache. you never knew, he was a closed book about his experiences.
you watch him gather around to fish, a typical morning routine despite the overflowing amount of food in your house. you never objected or asked him not to go, it was the one thing finnick enjoyed and he could now do so freely. who were you to stop him?
“can I join you?” the words slip your mouth without a second guess, and he’s stopping in his tracks. you’ve never taken up much of an interest in fishing, not since you didn’t have to do so anymore, but you loathed sitting around waiting for him to return. plus, it gave you something to do as well.
“you better hurry.”
scurrying out of bed, you find yourself rushing with the sunrise and finnicks personal clock, but by the time you’re down by the water, no one else is even there and the sun is just starting to rise.
“what’s the plan?” you ask, turning to face him he’s got a trident in his hand, his typical choice of weapon that somehow made it back to district four along with him.
“we hunt, we go home, and then we eat.” he says offering a small smile before moving carefully and slowly into the water. he moves with such precision, careful not to alarm the fish. any movement and they’ll scatter along. you watch him hunt for awhile until it’s your turn, you don’t come up as lucky as he does, but he still applauds the three fish you killed.
“now we eat and save some for dinner.” he smiles, content with the couple hours of work done. without telling, it’s most likely noon and your stomach was reminding you of the lack of food in your stomach.
the hike home doesn’t take long and Finnick is cooking while you shower. the warm water trickles down your back, soothing away the morning worries. you take longer than you normally do, just to enjoy the silence your mind finally gives you before turning off the water.
emerging from the shower, he’s leaning in the doorway. a cocky smile against his lips that if it weren’t for his beauty, you’d attempt anyway to erase it.
“you think about me in there?”
“never in a million years would I think about you in my shower.” you pick up a soft towel, running the fabric all across your body and through the ends of your hair. out the corner of your eye, you can still see that smile. the smile that every girl falls for when finnick would enter a room. he’s easy to like, bright eyes, beautiful smile, golden blond hair, and an ego so big sometimes it’s adorable, other times? not so much.
“you’re awful at lying. it’s actually one of your worst traits.”
“and you’ve got an awfully big ego, it’s one of your worst traits.” you fire back with a smile on your face leaving him to roll his eyes and tell you lunch was waiting for you.
In this world, it's just us
You know it's not the same as it was
813 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 3 months
Text
Jungkook
YEARNING || Intro
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Some meetings are nothing but fleeting coincidence- others are what we call fate.
Tags/Warnings: Dragonblood!Prince!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Some fluff if you squint?, Jungkook is emotionally constipated oops
Length: 4.8k Words
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
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It’s been a long time since you’ve been put in your cell, and yet, you don’t provide the castle guards with any answers they might seek.
The straw pinches and picks at your skin, but it’s warm and soft whenever you sleep. The food you receive is barely enough to fill you, but it keeps you alive, and gives you something to do during the day. The only sunlight you get is from a small, barred up opening far up on the back wall of your cell- one of many, placed in rows, but always with a wall in between each cage to separate the prisoners. Isolate them.
Today, it’s raining.
Two guards enter the hall underground you’re in, opening your cell. “looks like you’ll get a shower.” One chuckles, before he puts the shackles around your wrists, tugging you out by the chain that connects them to one another. This is also not new. Sometimes, they’ll put you out in the snow, or the wind, or today- the rain.
But you’ve got nothing to say.
The light stings your eyes as you can hardly see, stumbling more than walking after the guard who chains your hands to a large, wooden construct meant to hold onto the chain from your shackles. “Maybe it’ll wash the grime off.” The guard jokes to the one next to him, before he leaves your already shivering body behind.
As your eyes adjust to the brightness, you look up- finally able to see the flying dragons above clearly, their wings keeping them circling in the skies, colors mixing.
This is why you’re here.
Dragons are seen as dangerous, wild and violent creatures that humanity needs to be protected from. Therefore, dragon eggs and nests need to be reported, and any sightings too- so when you failed to do so, and even offered a once injured beast shelter, you’ve made yourself an enemy to the kingdom.
Especially because you refuse to reveal where it went after you’ve nursed it back to health.
And you will continue to stay quiet, because you know that dragons aren’t the vile beings they’re made out to be. No- the real beasts are the humans here, who enslave their own people just for choosing to help an injured creature that’s not of the same kind.
This isn’t fair.
And if that is what life is all about- you don’t want it.
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They throw a young man into the cell right next to yours, where you’re still laying on the floor, still recovering from the rain and cold from yesterday.
He can’t be just a normal human being- the jewelry he still wears on his face and ears distinctive, just like the ink beneath his skin. He’s probably one of the dragonblood people.
He watches you for a good while, before he actually speaks, quietly so. “what did you do?” He asks, and your eyes look at him from where you’re laying on the floor near the hay.
“…I hid a dragon from the kingdom.” You answer just as quietly, eyes closing again.
“Why?” the young man asks.
“Because it.. was hurt.” You simply offer the truth.
“Did they survive?” He questions further, and you nod, a smile tugging on your lips.
“Can you hear them?” the man asks, but you shake your head.
“I’m not one of them.” You answer. “I’m just.. human.” You tell him, and he falls quiet again.
Having nothing more to say.
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Today, they’ve taken you both out again. Him in the cage, you chained up near him, hands bound by shackles attached to a wooden post.
It’s nighttime, and they’ve not yet taken you back inside like usual.
“You cannot hear them..” Comes a voice from the side, the young man turned towards you, the fire of a nearby torch reflecting off of his dark eyes. You nod- he’s most likely been imprisoned for a reason regarding dragons as well. “and yet you helped them?”
You shrug, which is barely noticeable amongst your shaking body. “..it felt unfair t-to leave it and l-let it be captured.” You admit to him. “E-everything was fine.” You say, and he just watches you, only a few larger dragons now left in the skies above. “but- b-but then I fought with my brother. And so he wrote a letter t-to the court.” You giggle, remembering the poor writing of his. Frankly, you couldn’t write at all- but still. For someone who thinks so highly of himself such as your brother, he sure lacks in every task and talent.
“What did you fight about?” the young man wonders.
“H-he had told me I had t-to leave the house we inherited from our p-parents, because he’d found a potential woman for himself.” You say. “A-and I told him to at least let me stay in the c-cabin close by.” You explain, voice stammering due to the cold. “He said I couldn’t. So we fought. Because.. I had nowhere else to go.” You admit. “I was scared.”
The young man is silent at that.
“can you hear them?” You ask, eyes closed as you hear his own chains move around with him as he adjusts his sitting position.
“I can.” He tells you, and you smile.
“Do you think they know?” You wonder, an open question he interprets as you asking if they know of your past actions for them. “maybe t-that’s why they’re above..” you figure, and it’s quiet for a moment.
“They know.” He tells you, and you nod, accepting that answer. He’s most likely just trying to comfort you, and you appreciate that. Your shivering slowly stops, and you know it’s not a good sign.
“I’m glad.” You say to him, tension leaving your body as you open your eyes again- surprised to see him look at you still, but his gaze doesn’t unsettle you like it does the guards. Maybe because to you, he’s an equal. He’s just as much in this situation as you are.
“Hold on a bit longer.” He says, and you’re not sure what he means by that- when suddenly, something crashes down, sky darkening as it fills with dragons, fire filling up the ground for a moment as one of them shields the young man from the guards approaching. He’s saying something, you’re not sure what- as his cage is torn and bent apart, steel unable to hold it’s shape against the claws of the beasts claiming the skies and mountains as theirs.
A dark brown dragon approaches you, bites at the chains of your shackles, before they break and have you released- body falling to the wet ground, where it is picked up by hands to be placed on the back of the beast.
You’re not very aware what happens. You just feel cold- and oddly warm, all at the same time.
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When you wake up, you’re warm- and also, not alone.
There’s multiple little.. animals? All laying on the blankets that cover you- and as you look closer, you realize they’re young dragons. “Oh, you’re awake.” A man says, noticing your opened eyes. “I was worried you might need more time. My name is Seokjin.” He offers, before adjusting a pillow. “You’re.. somewhere safe. That’s all you need to know for now.” He kindly offers, when the door opens.
“Oh, she’s up.” The other man says, politely nodding towards you. “I’ll tell the kitchen that she’ll eat too?” He asks, and Seokjin nods.
“But only some soup for now, the same as the others we took in.” He explains. “and yes, that includes Jungkook. Make sure he doesn’t steal anything from the kitchen.” He says, as the man chuckles and leaves. “That was Taehyung, by the way. He’s mainly responsible for the young hatchlings- but he’s also in charge of handling the new Hiwerns we took in.”
“…Hiwern?” You wonder, and Seokjin nods.
“yes. Hiwerns- are you not one?” he wonders as be helps you sit up. “Jungkook didn’t tell us much about you, so I assumed you were- despite you being rather.. small.” He says, and only now do you notice how tall he is.
“Jungkook?” you ask, unsure. “the.. other prisoner?” You ask, and Seokjin smiles.
“Yes. He was taken after he got caught off guard.. but we all know what the prince is like.” He laughs, making your eyes widen. “Wait.. you.. seem confused.”
“I am.” You say. “I’m not.. I don’t know anything about a.. prince?” You question, when someone walks in-
The man you remember.
“Jin, why do I need to keep eating soup- oh.” He notices, looking at you before his face becomes more gentle. “Hello. It’s good to see you up.”
“She’s a bit confused.” Seokjin says, as Jungkook nods.
“I figured.” He simply sighs. “I’ll talk to you later. I’d like to talk to her alone right now.” He requests, and Seokjin leaves, while Jungkook stays behind to sit on the edge of your bed.
He looks different. Skin clean, and dressed in clearly well made clothes- fit for a prince, like Seokjin had mentioned. “ask away. You must have many questions judging by the way you look.” Jungkook says, and you look to the little dragon hatchling that curls up near your legs, continuing to sleep.
“Hiwern.” You begin. “What.. is that?” You wonder.
“I’m a Hiwern. So is he, and almost everyone else here.” He simply replies. “Hiwerns are.. people who have dragon blood inside of them. We’re like.. descendants of the more traditional dragons, so to say. That’s why we can hear them, and speak their language.” He offers as an explanation. “that’s a very simplified version of it all. But you don’t need to know much more than that.” Jungkook says.
“…and you’re a prince?” You ask a bit more hesitant, and he nods.
“I am. At least, for the Hiwern people.” He shrugs. “for your people I’m nothing more than a monster.” He says, and you shamefully look down.
“What.. what is going to happen to me?” You wonder, and he just smiles as he gets up, hissing a bit probably due to his injuries he sustained while captured.
“You’ll heal. After that, we’ll bring you back to your people.” He reassures you, as he opens the door to let Seokjin back inside-
Leaving you with a dark wish to never heal at all.
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The snow is deep, as you and Jungkook walk through the woods in the mountains together.
You’re humming a song that catches his attention, making him turn to look at you over his shoulder. “how do you know this song?” He questions.
“My mother hummed it often. I just.. picked it up.” You answer a bit hesitant. “I can stop if you want..” you say, but he shakes his head.
“its no problem.” He answers. “your voice is.. soothing to listen to.”
“What is.. the song about?” You ask, awkwardly asking your questions because you don’t want to overstep a line- but this is a unique opportunity to satisfy some curiosity you’ve always had.
“The song of the daughter.” He answers. “it’s.. a tale of the first Hiwern daughter of the mountains.” Jungkook explains. “according to.. tales, there were once four daughters born from a dragon mother. One in the mountains, one near the sea, one in the desert, and one in the woods.” He recites. “and they gave their gift of dragonblood to their children, and so on. That’s how.. we apparently came to be. Sons and daughter’s born and travelled, and we eventually formed our own society.” He shrugs.
“So.. there’s Hiwerns all over the world?” You ask, and he nods.
“But since the royal families have made the act of dragon-speech illegal, we have been hiding.” He explains. “where is.. your family?” Jungkook asks as he walks further down the mountains with you.
“My mother was hung a few years ago, for.. the same thing I was supposed to be hung for.” You say, walking next to him. “but.. they didn’t hang me, because they wanted me to tell them where the dragon went.” You explain. “so they could find the nest.”
Jungkook stays quiet for a while, before he speaks again. “You said you have a brother?” Jungkook asks, and you nod.
“I was living with him after my mother died. Until.. he sent a letter out that exposed what I’d done.” You say.
“He’s a human too, I assume?” Jungkook wonders, and you nod your head.
“though we are only somewhat blood related. We have the same father, but not the same mother.” You tell him. He nods, quietly, before he walks further.
“this is as far as I’ll take you.” He says, before offering the bag to you. “There’s rations in here, and something to help you on your way.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, but he shakes his head.
“take it as.. me repaying the kindness you’ve shown before.” He offers. Under different circumstances, he would’ve let you stay with him- but he can’t simply trust a kind face and gentle hands in times like these.
You’re still human. And humans can’t be trusted.
So you nod your goodbye, quietly, as you walk away from him and towards an uncertain future-
Leaving the prince with a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.
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Jungkook knows what the dragons are doing just a few days after you left- but that doesn’t mean he quite understands their reasons for doing it.
Sure, you’ve helped a young dragon in the past. And sure, you’ve been very sweet to the hatchlings too for the very short time you’ve been here. But why do all dragons seem to have this.. strange interest in you?
“You seem in thought.” Namjoon asks, as he places his books back into their respective spots in his library.
“I am.” Jungkook’s responds, looking out the window. “There’s.. do the dragons seem to be acting.. strange to you?” He asks, and Namjoon turns around to face him.
“..You’re talking about her.” He says, and Jungkook nods.
“They’re not very clear in their reasoning as to why they seem so interested in her.” Jungkook says. “and it’s most certainly neither prey drive nor distrust.”
“Its curiosity.” Namjoon finishes, as he puts another book between two others to keep them all in order. “Maybe because she’s living out in the open. From what I’ve heard, she’s not gone to any villages yet.”
“No.” the prince denies. “they.. almost watch over her.” He shakes his head, arms crossed. “Feann keeps flying over the area she currently resides in. And Gowren apparently keeps her company at night.” He explains, remembering the things he’s heard from the wild dragons of the area. “But they refuse to tell me their reasons as to why.”
“protectiveness. Interesting, considering she’s got no Hiwern blood.” Namjoon agrees with the prince’s suspicion. “they should naturally be wary of her- but if you remember, the hatchlings didn’t mind her either.” He offers.
You definitely spoke the truth when claiming that you were human, that much he knows. So why this interest in you?
“Maybe you could send out someone to check up on her.” Namjoon says. “I know this is making you nervous.”
“I probably have to.” Jungkook agrees. “I don’t want them to become too friendly with a human. The younglings might misunderstand, and lose their natural fear of humans.” He worries, and Namjoon nods.
“How about you send out Hoseok? Yoongi might be human, but he would most likely just intimidate her.” He proposes. “and, Hoseok is faster.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook nods. “thank you.” He nods,
Walking out the library to find the man in question right away.
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“Oh.” You say, spotting Hoseok walking towards you. You’ve seen him before, fleetingly, but you can remember faces well.
“You’ve come fairly far.” The man tells you, before he nods politely, and sets down a small bag of things. “these are sent by Seokjin.” He informs you, and you accept the bag that’s filled with some foods for you to eat, as well as a blanket.
“I- I’ll be out of the area soon, I promise.” You tell Hoseok. “I’m just.. not that fast.”
“There’s no need to rush, really-“ He starts, when suddenly, a young but large dragon clumsily makes its way down to instead almost.. shield you from the man?
“Huh?” you’re caught off guard, and mostly confused.
“This is.. something else.” Hoseok says, before he says something in a language you don’t understand- and you take it as a message to leave, as you slowly get up from your spot, to bury the remnants of the little fire you made, so you don’t draw too much attention to your existence. “where are you going?” Hoseok asks.
“Away.” You answer. “I’m not sure where to.. but I really don’t want to cause any problems for you or anyone else, really.” You explain yourself. “Prince Jungkook gave me the chance to be set free and start over- it would be ungrateful not to take it.” You tell him, and he nods.
It's not his place to question your actions.
And so he makes his way back, returns to the safety of his home and hidden town hidden by the high up mountains, where Namjoon already informs him that the prince wants to hear what he’s found right away.
“She gives her thanks. For the supplies I’ve given her- though I did not reveal the actual sender, like you told me to.” Hoseok says as he sits down with Jungkook, who’s just finished eating in his room.
“..was she well?” He asks, and the older Hiwern nods.
“She seemed fairly good given her situation.” He offers. “she is leaving the area as we speak.”
“I did not tell you to send her away.” Jungkook growls a bit argumentative, and Hoseok shakes his head.
“I know. It’s her choice she made herself.” He instead answers, though it doesn’t seem to pacify the prince very much. “why? She’s right in saying that it is for the best.”
“Id argue against that. Its for our best- but not hers.” Jungkook mumbles, understanding very well that you can’t just waltz back into the human towns as if nothing happened. You’re still wanted after all- and this time they won’t be so lenient, he’s sure of it.
“How come you’re so concerned, yet you sent her away?” Hoseok asks, curious. “We’ve taken Yoongi in, years ago. So it’s not like what she is could be the problem.” He almost teases.
“I don’t know.” Jungkook answers, leaning his chin on his hand. “I don’t.. I’m not sure about her.”
“You’re scared of a human?” the older dragonblood laughs, but the prince just rolls his eyes.
“it’s not fear. But.. uncertainty.” He admits instead. “The dragons are awfully attached. And so is my blood.” He says, referring to his inner dragon. “I’ve been.. dreaming of her.”
“Oh no, I’d rather not know.” Hoseok jokes.
“Trust me, I’d rather have simple desire filled visions than.. whatever it is that’s going on. If it was just sexual dreams I’d at least have a proper explanation as to what I’m supposed to do about it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “But instead, I just.. hear her sing.”
“Sing?” Hoseok wonders, interested.
“Humming, to be precise. The song of the Daughter.” The prince explains. “it keeps echoing in my head, and it’s quite frankly starting to drive me crazy.”
“And you think sending her away will help?” the older man asks without needing an answer. “it’s what you think you need to do, but what you actually need-“ hoseok stands up to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “-is an answer.”
“..You’re right.” The prince runs a hand over his face. “I’ll send out someone to find her, and bring her here. I can’t go on like this.” He says with frustration, before getting up to talk to Namjoon.
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Maybe, sending Yoongi was not quite the brightest idea the prince has had.
Because Yoongi notices quickly, that despite being on horseback, there’s no catching you. He’s spotted you already, has called out to you- but just like a freshly hatched dragon youngling, you seem to have an ingrown fear of anything remotely human. And the distrust is also clear, as you do not seem to care about his explanation of being sent by the Hiwern prince himself.
He can’t blame you. A former slave himself, he knows that his own kind is never to be believed.
There’s no arguing with you, as you play a game of hide and seek it seems like, and in a way, it’s almost an exciting change of pace for the usual slow and steady life in the mountains. “Please stop-!” He calls out again as he spots you once more-
But you’re running. And by the dragons above, you’re fast.
His horse is trying to keep up, even through the trees and bushes, but you’re at an advantage as you jump and duck your way left and right, until you find yourself out in the open, a river flowing past in quick motion. You would’ve had to cross it either way. There’s no way around it.
“Don’t do that!” Yoongi warns, well aware of the slippery stones and strong current most likely becoming a death trap if underestimated- and you seem to do just that, as you make your way through, legs soaking up the cold water. “stop- you’ll get hurt!” He calls out once more, but you just glare at him-
A fire equal to a dragon’s breath in your eyes.
And then, you slip, and fall right into the water, making Yoongi lead his horse as fast as it can run next to the riverbed, to keep an eye on you as best as he can- but the moment you seem to lose consciousness, he knows he’s lost.
“fuck!” Yoongi curses, horse refusing to move m as a dragon dives down from above to help- body blocking the river for a moment to catch yours against it, giving Yoongi an opportunity to drag you out and into the nearby grass.
The silvery dragon watches intensely as Yoongi helps you cough up the water swallowed, while others swarm the skies as if they heard the commotion and came to see for themselves. “can you hear me? What hurts?” Yoongi asks, concerned but also annoyed- and you just shiver for the moment, seemingly accepting whatever fate might fall onto you.
The fellow human sighs, before he moves to his horse to fetch a blanket he packs for emergencies- wrapping it around you, before he helps you onto its back to bring you where Jungkook had requested you to.
He's holding onto you with one arm, your body leaning against his front as you sit in front of him. “…how will I die?” You ask with a hoarse voice.
He chuckles. “hopefully not at all.” He answers. “The prince will already scold me enough for having you fall into the river.”
You sleepily watch the dragons above follow hou both- and decide that you believe him.
“I’m sorry.” You apologize.
“no need.” The man denies. “I can understand. And I would’ve been just as wary if I was you.” He offers.
“Why.. do I have to go back?” You wonder. “did I do something wrong?”
“I’m not sure, but it’s nothing bad.” He reassures you, as he’s let through by the guards stationed a good while before the town begins. “you can sleep soon. Hold out a bit longer.” He requests, and you nod, trying hard to do just that.
But just as a concerned looking Hoseok and Seokjin help you down the horse, you can’t stay awake any longer.
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“She’s still asleep.” Seokjin says, as Jungkook stands in front of the door to your room, as he’s been told.
“It is almost noon. I need to see her-“ the prince argues, but the older man shakes his head as he takes the hand from the door.
“She needs to rest first.” He urges.
“Rest?” Jungkook questions. “What happened?”
“According to Yoongi, she was scared and did not believe him when he told her he was sent by your request.” Jin explains. “She ran off, and fell into the river close to the south border of the woods. Qen helped- if she didn’t block the river and catch her, we most likely would’ve lost her.” He says.
Jungkook stares at the door.
“I’d like to see her, still.” He says, unsure why he feels this urge. He really should let you rest, but he at least wants to look at you, for reasons he’s not sure of.
“But do be quiet.” Seokjin sighs, as he opens the door to the room you’re sleeping in, a hatchling having entered from the window, sleeping soundly on your legs.
Jungkook walks in with stealth, not wanting to disturb your rest.
He stays near the door, not walking any closer, and it helps his ache quite a bit already to just see you sleep there. Like his mind if finally reassured again that you’re close by and taken care of, his chest feels lighter, not as constricted as before.
This is wrong.
The signs all point to one simple answer, and he knows it, as does Namjoon, and most likely Seokjin and Hoseok as well. But a connection like that can’t be, isn’t meant to work and shouldn’t be condoned nor explored by himself. You do not belong in his world, and neither does he belong into yours.
He has to fulfill his own blood’s final task, after all- bring a Hiwern child into this world, to keep his people alive for another generation. Something that only a hiwern Mother can do for him, as dragonblood is only given to the child by the mother, not the father.
He would betray his entire kind if he was to give into whatever this sick and twisted joke of nature is.
And he can’t do that, especially not as a prince. He’s got a duty to fulfill, he’s viewed as a leader and example. Anyone else would most likely be looked past- but not him. All eyes are on him, at all times.
He can’t do this.
So he instead makes his way out the door again, to find Namjoon and cut this bond before it can get any tighter.
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“I do not care.” Jungkook argues, pacing from side to side in front of the window of his study, Namjoon sitting down with a troubled expression on his face. “Yoongis situation is not the same as mine. He will bring a Hiwern child into this world, I will not of I let this happen.” The prince argues.
“You don’t even know if she has any emotional connection to you.” Namjoon tries to explain. “If you would just take some time and-“
“And what? Let this bond grow until we both get hurt when we inevitably have to sever it?” The prince scoffs. “I will not be the reason my kind fails to survive.”
“You’re acting as if we’re on the brink of extinction..” Namjoon tells him. “What are you so scared of?” He worries, and Jungkook falls silent, as he looks outside the window.
“Of setting a wrong example.” He mumbles. “Even if the people accept it, what if it sets off a chain reaction I can’t control? Humans aren’t to be trusted, let alone get close to. The fear we teach our children has to stay intact.”
“And it will. Yoongi still can’t get close to any of the younger-“ Namjoon starts, but Jungkook snaps his head around, still upset.
“And yet she seems to be considered as a surrogate mother for the hatchlings. Namjoon, you’ve seen it too- I don’t know what sick joke they’re playing on me right now, but I can’t let this continue.” The prince says. “she will leave, after we separate the bond. And that’s final.”
“I hope you know that you’re asking a lot of me.” Namjoon lowly says, and Jungkook nods, serious.
“and if you can’t do it,” Jungkook says, before turning around again-
“Then I’ll find someone else who will.”
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lovedazai · 4 months
Text
SNOWFLAKES & MARSHMALLOWS . . . a winter evening with you makes dazai realize what he’s been missing out on.
ft. dazai + f!reader, christmas time, lots of kisses, a little suggestive for a sec
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“ow, ow, ow!” dazai sticks out his burnt tongue, glaring down at your mug of hot chocolate. his big brown eyes are shimmering, lips pouty. “it’s so hot!”
“it’s mine,” you poke his forehead, and he whines your name. “are you okay?”
he puckers his lips expectantly in lieu of a response. they lift up into a smile as soon as your mouth touches his, his giggles vibrating against you. “i’m all better now.”
your fingers brush against his as you take your stolen drink back. the sip of hot chocolate was enough for something warm to settle in his stomach, but he suspects the fuzzy feeling that’s been lingering in his chest since earlier that day is because of your company.
the christmas lights draped across the street had been especially pretty on the way home, bouncing off your skin and your big eyes as you looked up at him, intertwined hands swinging in between the two of you. you had given him your scarf when you saw him shivering, reached up on your tiptoes to wrap it around him; you said you didn’t need it, that he was there to keep you warm.
he thinks you look just as pretty now, bundled beneath a blanket, your legs intertwined with his. the fake tree you insisted on getting sits in the corner, emitting a warm white light around his little dorm.
“are you sure you want to drink that?” he sighs, draping a bandaged arm over his eyes. “you could hurt yourself. i’ll sacrifice myself and drink it for you, if i must.”
the sound of your happy hum makes him peek at you, whipped cream dotted on the tip of your nose, eyes bright as you pull your mug away. “it’s so tasty!”
he cups his palm against your cheek to tilt your face towards him. he kisses the whipped cream away, but it’s nothing compared to the plush of your lips when he presses his mouth against yours; you taste sugary sweet. “i can think of something tastier.”
you let out the dreamiest sigh as he kisses you, and he swears you could melt right between his hands. he nibbles on your lower lip, trying to ignore how dizzy he feels when your tongue presses against his own. you trail your fingertips along his jaw to pull him closer, his own inching up your sides, greedily taking in as much of you as he can.
“this is the first christmas eve i haven’t been alone,” he kisses you in between sentences, lips curled into a bittersweet smile. “if i’m not careful, i might get used to it.”
“you’re going to have to,” something tugs in his chest as your hands drift to his nape, touch tender as your fingertips trail along his neck, toying with the edges where his bandages overlap. “because i’m not going anywhere.”
the pads of your thumbs feel like velvet as they trace his face, cradling him with more care than anyone else ever has. he’s starting to miss your pout, his heart fluttering at the thought of getting to kiss it off your face, and inches his hand back towards your mug.
“‘samu!” his lips part as he steals another sip of your hot chocolate, a defense already brewing as he licks the melted marshmallows off his lips. “it’s snowing!”
he blinks. he’s already so much colder when you dart away from his side, even when you leave behind the blanket and your mug is still warm in his hand.
“come here, hurry!” you smile back at him over your shoulder, bouncing on your legs like a child. you hold your hand out, grabbing for him, and he intertwines your fingers with his as soon as he’s in reach.
he slides his arms around your waist and beneath your shirt, settling them against your bare stomach. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, peeking up just enough to see the flurries outside. against the streetlights, they almost look like they’re glowing, little stars falling down to the grass and melting away.
you look at him, eyes shining with the reflection of the tree’s lights before you gaze back outside. “isn’t it pretty?”
he squeezes your hands and nods, but his eyes are glued to your profile. “gorgeous.”
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BSD MASTERLIST
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macfrog · 5 months
Text
wish you were here | one shot
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thank you lovely anon for this gorgeous request which felt like a huge mug of hot chocolate and a pair of socks fresh from the dryer to write. i hope you enjoy.
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)
warnings: fluff lmao, thirty-year age gap and u can stay mad, set around the holidays but no mention of christmas etc, nothing but love and two hints of sex. that's all. oh and no guitars were harmed in the making of this - joel canonically goes and gets the guitar after the fic ends. dw.
word count: 1.9k 
main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤎
Jackson is alive with a thrumming heartbeat. Pulsing through the air, bumping gently against the quick-lying snow and filling the otherwise silent night. A steady, rhythmic heartbeat.  
A heartbeat which sounds a lot like Blue Monday, but a heartbeat nonetheless.
The holiday party is in full swing down in the Tipsy Bison. Seven o’clock ‘til late! on flyers plastered all over the commune for the last month. Tommy had tried relentlessly to convince Joel this morning on patrol – It’ll be a good night; You oughta come along, show face at least. At the same time, Maria was on your back about it in the stables.
Y’all hardly come to anything fun, she’d argued.
We come to stuff.
When’s the last time you came to anythin’?
We were – we were at Mike’s birthday dinner.
What – five months ago?
We like alone time.
Alone time? You’re never apart from one another.
Alone time – together.
Neither attempt had been successful. Tommy and Maria had exchanged a disheartened glance as the two brothers passed their horses to you on their return. Joel clipped your cheek, took his gloves off and fixed them onto your frozen hands before making off for home, a proud grin on his face. You’d held your own as well as he had: you two had a clear evening ahead.
He had lit and nurtured a fire, had made himself a coffee and heaped half a damn bag of tiny marshmallows into a hot chocolate for you, but when he’d come through to take his place on the couch, you were already stood out front.
It’s bitter out – a soft breeze, but a thick chill on its wings. The sky a washed gray, heavy clouds overhead. He slips outside, setting the mugs down on the table, and slings a blanket over your shoulders. Kisses the curve of your neck, scruff of his beard tickling your skin.
‘s freezing, pretty bird.
Then keep me warm, you whisper, turning into his arms. He steps back, settling into his chair, flicking his fingers for you to fall down into his wide lap.
You curl up against his torso, your head hooked beneath his jaw. Wonder how drunk Tommy is by now. What is it – nine?
His wrist lifts, moonlight gleaming in the reflection of his broken watch face. Just gone ten. I bet he’s on his ass already.
You giggle into his shirt, breathing in the scent of the pine trees, the smoke from stoking the fire inside, the bite of hot coffee. The echo of voices swelling in merry song turns your attention down the street – two figures hooked onto one another, stumbling through the powdered snow. Some slurred rendition of September melting into All Night Long before the smaller of the two tugs their partner off into a darkened house.
Joel laughs to himself, the bristle of his beard catching on your hair as he shakes his head.
You ask him softly, Will you play me something?
His breath soars, a cloud hot and pale white, past your temple and up into the pastel sky. Gets swallowed somewhere overhead by the wash of warmth from the porch light. He turns his mug until the owl faces the street, the bottom gnawing against the wooden armrest of his chair.
I’m serious.
What do you wanna hear?
That one you’re always practicin’. The plucking one.
Another rumble between your shoulder blades. His chest jolts with a solid laugh. The pluckin’ one.
You know the one.
I know the one.
Will you play it, if I go get the guitar?
Baby, his lungs nudge on your back as they fill, it’s late. We’ll wake the neighbors.
Everyone’s at the dance. C’mon.
And he can’t argue with that. The entire street lies dark, vacant. Yours is the only house with soft-glowing eyes, the muted orange of the fire flickering behind closed blinds. Two figures, tangled in a chair on the dim front porch; a hunting jacket around his shoulders, and his body around yours.
You tug on the blanket, wrapping it around your elbows as you stand. Just once. Play me it once.
Joel’s looking up at you, setting his mug down on the table. Play you it as many times as you want, pretty bird. Just – quietly.
There’s a spring in your step that drags another chuckle from Joel’s lips: the kind that drips like honey down your throat and warms the pit of your stomach – a sweet, comforting thing, a sound you swear was made purposefully for you. Divine and deliberate.
Like – all of him. Like the shape of your name in his mouth, the curl of his tongue as the sound surfs over it. Like the curve of his hand and the way yours so neatly molds into it.
The way it did the day he found you, crouched in the gray backroom of some butchers deep in the city, and took you all the way back to Jackson. Let you cling to him on the back of his horse; your weak arms around his waist, anchored by the heavy jacket he’d thrown over your back. Your ear between his shoulder blades. And that was that.
Fifty-six. One brown-turned-silver hair away from thirty years your senior. He still remembers before. Talks about movies, talks about computers. Talks about Sarah, when the sun hits the wall at a certain angle and he reckons he could see her standing right there, the soft shadow of her hair dark against the golden wall. When you make a joke and he laughs a ghostly sort of laugh, like he’s hearing the echo of her voice make the same quip three decades ago. He always says she would’ve loved you; you like to think he’s right.
He found you: a lonely little broken heart, and he pulled you to your feet with a rough palm against your own. Hands calloused only from years spent carving wood and pressing the hard strings of his guitar into the fretboard, and nothing else. No violence and no bloodshed; no survival or threat. Music, and patience, and kindness.
And maybe you found him, too, in the same sort of way: roughened up, awkward and messy stitches holding him together. Maybe the two of you nursed one another back to life; each brush of your hands in the dining hall and each meaningful glance while out on patrol sewing those wounds up a little tighter, a little safer.
He sits forward when you hold the instrument out, sweeping a broad palm down the slope of the body. Pinches the pegs one by one, twisting them while his thumb taps on each string.
Come here, he says, beckoning you forward with a flick of his chin. He taps on the seam of his jeans, widens his legs for you to curl up between them at his feet – the way you always do.
Your elbows hook over his thigh, ear pressed against the inside of his knee. Staring up, blinking slowly, eyes glazed with the cold and with the light and with love.
He plucks gently, slow at first. Letting the strings snap with a twang, vibrating enough that you feel the small rattle in your jaw. Your eyes fall closed, head rocking with the light tap of his heel on the porch. When you peer at him through your lashes, he’s watching the skilled movements of his fingers intently; as if he’s as much a spectator as you are – his body doing all of the thinking and working for him.
 So, he sings, and your stomach melts to a puddle, so you think you can tell –
Your eyes close again, the low rumble of his voice crisp in your ears. Like thunder, like the promise of something great and mighty. Something moving, something rolling and changing the landscape of your body, your mind and your soul. The lines between living and dying begin to blur, the seam tearing between this plain and the next.
Did they get you to trade – your lips parting to whisper the words with him – your heroes for ghosts?
His thumbnail dragging down the strings, his strong fingers flitting between chords. Like he was made to sit here, in the dead of night, and carve a space in the world for himself and his voice and for you – lain in the safe scope of his body, protected by his breadth and brawn and lulled by his sweet song.
His breadth and brawn – the parts of him which have kept him standing here. His skeleton, his muscle. But the thing that keeps you warm at night, buried side by side under a threadbare woolen sheet together, the thing that you link your arms around as he leads you home from the nights you dare to visit the Tipsy Bison: are his heart, his flesh, the gray-singed hair which falls in a featherlight wave over his forehead. The hair you sweep from his eyes when he’s on top of you, his hips cradled in yours, that all-encompassing feeling of every part of him filling every part of you.
It all feels that way. The warmth of him, the feeling of being wrapped around him. Hooked around his body, bones intertwined. Absorbing one another, his words breathing life into yours, slowly growing louder and braver with each pluck and strum of music.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.
Your makeups entangling, ribcages locking together, flesh meeting flesh and hair twisting until one day, Tommy will come looking for his brother and find the two of you here on your porch, your arms still draped over Joel’s thigh and his fingers still mid-song. Stuck, alone, together.
What have we found? Joel looks down to you as though asking the question – his eyebrows raised – and you reply, a dumb smile across your lips, The same old fears, and then, together –
Wish you were here.
He plays until his fingers must start to hurt, the way he clenches and loosens his fist. Setting the guitar against your chair, hands hooking under your arms to pull you back up to him.
That one your favorite? he asks, the cold tip of his nose circling yours.
You nod. Only when you sing it.
I like the way we sound together.
You smile, shrinking into his chest again, your fingers surfing back and forth on the worn shirt. I like the way we do a lot of things together.
His hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, massaging your waist. He dots a trail of light, damp kisses along your forehead, dipping to your temple, the angle of your cheek until your jaw lifts and his lips are against yours, his tongue parting to lick purposefully at yours.
I love you, pretty bird, he whispers, the words falling sweet and fair on your tongue.
You take a moment to let them seep into your skin. ‘s the first time you’ve ever said that, you tell him.
Joel smiles. He knows. But you knew it already, he counters.
You know, too. Mhm.
Alright, he groans, slipping his hands under your thighs and hoisting you up to his height, bedtime.
It’s only ten, you complain, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he carries you inside. It’s too early to sleep – Joel.
Didn’t say we were goin’ to sleep, he mumbles, kicking the door shut.
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cowboydisaster · 4 months
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Christmas countdown request:
Have you ever sat in a hot tub while it's snowing? It's a magical experience. Your top is chilly, your bottom half is so warm, and if you look directly up at the falling snow it looks like the stars are floating down around you.
Anyway, Arthur should take reader skinny dipping in a hot spring and it starts snowing and they get to enjoy that magical moment while cuddling naked in the hot spring 😁
* ˚ ✦ Nightfall * ˚ ✦
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pairing: arthur morgan x f!reader word count: 1.9k a/n: OKAY-- i have experienced this and i LOVE it. I couldn't help myself from writing the smut, really. Smut in a hot spring is too good. I'm obsessed with this. warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, thigh riding, inexperienced reader, cowgirl
cowboydisaster's christmas countdown: TWO days 'till christmas!
christmas countdown┊main masterlist┊rdr2 masterlist
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The breeze is cold against your bare skin, the snow soft against your feet.
“Are you sure this won't hurt?” You ask again, eyes flickering over towards Arthur. He chuckles as he unbuttons the bottom of his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the rocky ground. 
“Yes, I'm sure.” He says, amused. 
“Why did we have to wait ‘till nightfall?” You ask, teeth chattering, hand running up your bare arm, over the goosebumps that are appearing. 
“You’ll see. C’mon, darlin, before ya catch a cold.” Arthur whispers, hand on the small of your back as he leads you across the flat rocks, towards an unknown destination. 
He’d wanted to surprise you, had planned this little trip weeks ago. Your horses eye the landscape curiously, not daring to leave the forest and venture out onto the strange, warm rocks. A nervous smile rests on your lips, a slight anxiety resting in your stomach. Arthur doesn’t miss the shudder in your breathing, nor the beating of your heart in your ears. Wishing to quell your hesitation, Arthur reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently in his own.
“You trust me?” He whispers, green eyes searching yours, and you nod. Hand in hand, you both venture across the rock. Arthur smiles for the way you marvel at their heat. The snow melts away from them, and small bubbling puddles of water rest at your feet. You raise an eyebrow, never having seen anything like it. 
“Where are we?” You ask, looking down, seeing more water, ponds and pools of it, hot and steaming. The warm pools are crystal blue, and seem to glow in the pitch black of night. 
“Cotorra Springs.” Arthur smiles.
Your eyes go wide, taking in the beauty and the wonder of the hot springs. Arthur leads you towards a particularly large one, and you study it. The way the water steams, warmed by some forces in the earth, the way the moon reflects in the strangely clear waters, the halo of light that shines out from the circle in the earth. 
Arthur watches your curiosity with loving eyes. He knows that you were very sheltered, and he’s trying to show you as much of the world’s beauty as he can. The wonders of nature are something that he often takes for granted, but not you. Every flower you come across, every landscape and every animal you meet is met with deep wonder and appreciation. Seeing the way you study, how your eyes light up at something new is… enchanting for him.. 
“Is it magical?” You whisper, your eyes filled with stars reflected from the water. You lean down, running your fingers through the spring, pulling away quickly at the warmth. You look to Arthur for reassurance, relaxing when you see him stepping down into the water. 
“Reckon it might just be.” He hums, extending a hand out to you. You take his calloused hand, letting him help you. Your toe meets the water first, and you pull it back, hesitating. 
“S’alright, sweetheart. I gotcha.” Arthur whispers, and trusting him wholly, you step in. 
The warm water envelops you, chasing away the chill that had been sinking into your bones. Arthur sits on the naturally carved ledge in the spring. You hesitate, but he nods– signaling that you’re okay– and you follow.
“Incredible, ain’t it?” Arthur whispers, head tilted back, looking up at the stars. The snowfall combined with the bright stars enrapture your attention, and you stare at the sky, wondering if it’s the snow falling onto your tongue, or the stars themselves. 
“It’s beautiful.” You murmur, brushing your hair back with wet hands, extending them to the sky, catching snowflakes that promptly melt against the warmth of your skin. 
Arthur is sure that in all the things he’s seen, all the places he’s gone, he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you. Your wet hair falls in tangled waves down your back, your smile is brighter than the stars above as you try and catch the ones that sprinkle down to you. The wonder in your eyes. That wild streak in your heart. Arthur could draw you day and night in his journal, and never truly capture your glow, or the way your smile brightens a room, the way your laughter heals broken hearts. 
Sometimes he wonders how you do it. How does someone with so much pain– so much trauma– stay so optimistic? So grateful for life and for people? In all that Arthur endured, all it ever made him was an angry fool. But you. You’re a phoenix. 
Arthur’s hands grip onto your waist, pulling you into his lap, your legs sitting across his own as he holds you wedding-style in his arms. 
“How’d I ever get so damn lucky?” Arthur whispers to you, green eyes laden with emotion. 
Your smile picks up all the cracked pieces of his heart, the liquid gold pouring out from your soul glues it back together.
“Karma.” You answer quickly, “Because good things happen to good people, Arthur.” 
Your legs are toasty warm in the water, but your chest and shoulders shiver lightly in the cold breeze. You cuddle closer to Arthur to make up warmth, laying against his chest. 
“I ain’t a good m-” 
“Shh.” You say into his ear, lips remaining there for a moment, pressing a slow kiss to his cheek. 
“You are a good man.” You whisper, turning in Arthur’s arms to face him, straddling him, “and…” You press a soft-as-silk kiss to his neck, “I love you for it.” 
His breaths grow a little quicker at the contact, and suddenly you become all too aware of the position you’re in.
“Too good to me.” Arthur whispers in between open mouthed kisses to your neck. His hands find your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh, gripping you tightly. 
You whimper, breath shuddering as he pulls your hips down, grinding your core against his leg. 
“Arthur we’re–” You take a breath, “What if someone comes along?” 
“No one will come along, darlin.” Arthur reassures, thumbs trailing up your torso, pressing circles against your firm, sensitive nipples. 
Despite your sheltered childhood, you struggle none with this. When you were eager, Arthur had shown you– again and again– what you could do to make yourself feel good, to what you could do make him feel good.
“Keep talkin’ to me, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.” Arthur’s voice is like velvet against your ear, his lips locking on to your lips, your jaw, your collarbone. One of his fingers continues massaging your swollen, pink nipple, and the other travels lower, teasing your thigh, stroking your hip. 
“Please, Arthur.” You whisper, hips rocking gently, waiting for friction.
“Jus’ wanna touch you, sweetheart.” Arthur groans, pulling your hips down against his leg, helping you to rock them, to fuck yourself against his thigh, your warm bodies still half submerged in the spring. The temperature does something for you all on its own. Your breasts are exposed to the cold, only warmed by Arthur’s touch, but your lower half is heating all on its own, and combined with the hot water, it's almost overstimulating. 
“Just like that-” You gasp, head tossing back, hair dipping back into the glowing water. Snowflakes flutter about, landing in your hair, on your face, and your breasts, scattered white specks that Arthur picks up with his trail of kisses. Your hips keep their steady pace, and Arthur continues teasing you, featherlight fingertips trailing down your legs, ghosting over the backs of your knees. 
“Easy, sweetheart.” Arthur’s voice reaches your ears in a strained huff. 
He wants to pull you down onto his throbbing cock, to roll his hips up into you, watch you rock yourself, fuck yourself on his length. He wants to watch those beautiful eyes roll back into your head over and over, wants to hear his name coming from those pretty, plump lips. He wants to mark you, kiss you, make you his. He’s not sure if at heart he's a good man. However, he is sure that you make him a very bad one. His cock is straining against his stomach, and every rock of your hips is rubbing against him, and jesus, he can’t take it much longer. 
It’s selfish, purely selfish as he dips his hands below the water, pulling you up. Your face wrinkles in pleasure when he slides you down onto his cock, and the gesture nearly sends him to heaven. Your soft skin goes tense, muscles tightening, cunt gripping him, pulling groans from his cracked lips. 
The glow of the water shines impossibly brighter, illuminating you. Your face is flushed, your breasts bouncing with every one of your rocks.
“Oh–” You moan, hands gripping onto his sturdy shoulders, “Arthur!” 
“Tell me what’cha need, darlin.” Arthur grunts, squeezing your ass in his hands. 
You reach for his wrist, grabbing it tightly, and shoving it down between your bodies. Arthur smirks against your skin as he nips at your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure through all the pressure points in your body. His thumb makes a steady pace on your clit, and when you toss your head back in pleasure, snowflakes spot your eyelashes. 
“Feel good? Gonna cum for me?” Arthur groans, cock twitching inside you, pushing up into you. You press your chest to Arthur’s, the added stimulation of your nipples against him creating an influx of sensations.  
“Good… Good, there you go.” Arthur praises, feeling the stutter of your hips, noticing the whine of your voice. 
“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Arthur kisses your neck, and your stomach clenches down on him, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me.” 
Your hips stutter, voice growing louder, strained as you rock against him. Arthur curses as your walls tighten around him, squeezing out every bit of self control that he’s clinging on to. Your orgasm works through you slowly, building and building, like a dam cracking before it bursts. 
“There, there, just–” Arthur groans, “Jus’ like that, darlin’. Doin’ so good. I’m– nearly there wit’ ya–” 
You shudder and gasp, fire erupting in your abdomen, spreading over your limbs. A few unrhythmic, upward thrusts and Arthur is there with you. His hips grind up slowly, pumping his cum into you, filling you full as he groans, hands tearing into your hips with their force. He thrusts again, slow, breathing deeply as you both come down. 
“That–” You shiver, sweat clinging to you, cold from the temperature. 
“I know.” Arthur finishes for you, pulling your body against his chest, keeping you mostly in the water for warmth. His arms wrap around you, fingertips trailing slowly up and down your spine as tingles spread through your limbs, little waves of aftershock hitting you now and again. 
Arthur doesn’t pull out, just keeps you in his lap, holding you, kissing your head, praising you. 
The falling snow lands in your hair, and as Arthur looks up at the vast expanse of stars, he's sure you’re one of them. An angel, come down as a star. Something divine, surely.
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