#AND STAY AU STICKS THE LANDING

[baconcolacan]

Did R Tord try to have some contact with Tom when he left the house?

I'm compiling all recent Regimen (+ one Stay AU) anon asks into one so I dont overwhelm my dash lmao. Question start!

Nope! Actually, Tom was the one to contact him, although he didnt realize he did as he was drunk when he did it.

I'm slightly following "canon" when it comes to Regimen so I'll just say that Tord joined the army at 18, left the guys shortly thereafter, took part in the civil war Norway got plunged into which led to a leadership position at 23. He took over that civil war group which later turned into RA so I guess technically 23 lmao, but he built up their network and expanded recruitment after the events of 'The End'

Tord did, kind of, being a military leader is a lot of work so he couldn't keep his attention on them all the time, he would peek in now and then to check if they were alive then leave it at that to address his other matters. Around this time, Tord would be pretty connected to a lot of powerful people, so its not that hard to have satellites track what was going on with the guys when he wanted to know.

R-Tord: He would tut at him, pull him as close as possible and just smile sadly. "Min kjaere, why would you say something like that?" His voice would be small, sad, soft. His touch would be gentle, cupping the sides of Tom's face as he looked at him "You are my most precious treasure, nothing about you is lacking, you are mine and I only keep the most beautiful things at my side."

Then his grip might tighten, might hurt a bit, did Tom mistake that second? Did he just imagine it? Because Tord's hold was gentle again, maybe he did imagine it.

"Never say something like that again."

S-Tord: Tom likes to joke about it sometimes, because his humor was partly self-deprecating, but this time it sounded too bitter, too personal. Tord hated when his husband got like this, it hurt to know that Tom felt this way about himself, when all that Tord ever saw was a handsome, adorable, snarky but funny person who he loved more than anything.

He would frown and shake his head at Tom. "Why would you say that kjærligheten min?"

"Uh...it's just a joke though?"

"No no," He would stand and come closer to Tom, frown still in place. He'd squish Tom's face between his hands and ignore all his protests if he has any. "I know that tone, my love. You meant it this time." He would sigh and press their foreheads together, maybe ease up on the face squishing. "You know I hate when you say that about yourself, nothing about those words are true, nothing about those thoughts are true...." He would pout and separate himself but still not let go of Tom. "Are you calling me a liar, then? When I tell you all the things about you that I love, am I a liar?"

"Tord, no-" "Then I will list aaaaallll the things I love about you until your stupid head stops making up those horrible lies!" "Oh god, Tord don't-" He'd scoop him up in his arms and spin them around, laughing. "Tooooo late! Here we go: One - I love your voice, especially when you sing, very sexy-" "OOOOH MY GOD! TORD STO-HAHAHHAP!!"

It will keep going until Tom is begging him- but smiling wide enough for Tord- to stop talking.

[sinner-as-saint]

stuck with you

Bucky x Reader au

Run-through: Alone, cold, and stranded in the middle of a small town on top of a mountain. Not the most ideal situation to be in when the weather starts getting bad. No motels or inns have room for you so the locals suggest you reach out to a man named Bucky Barnes for shelter. Apparently, Bucky is known to always help stranded people, or lost hikers. No matter how weird it feels to drive up to a stranger’s house and ask for help, you have on other choice but to do just that. The plan was simple: stay with the strange, kind man for a couple of days until the snowstorm passes. But then you meet him and you find yourself unable to stick to the plan. 

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties, Bucky is in his early forties), strangers-to-lovers ish, smut, slight degrading kink, fluff

It felt like the start of a horror movie. 

Unknown town, unknown people. You cursed yourself as you walked out of yet another motel who had no room left for you. 

What the hell were you thinking? After uni, you thought travelling the world on your own would help you with learning the right lessons, having the right experiences, and all that before you joined the family business and began working with your parents for the rest of your life. 

Instead of having fun though, here you were. Stuck on top of an icy mountain, in a small town, and nowhere to sleep for the night. With the snowstorm approaching, you had to find shelter quickly. But none of these motels or inns were free. Every hiker, skier, and tourist had already booked ahead of you apparently. 

“Uh, miss?” A voice called from behind you right as you were about to step outside into the cold evening. 

You turned to look and it was the owner of the motel. The same man who had just turned you down because he had no space left to accommodate you. He looked apologetic as he approached you. 

“Hi.” You said, then patted your pockets quickly, “Did I forget anything on the counter?” 

“No.” The man smiled and shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry you can’t stay. But snowstorms in this area can be dangerous and deadly, and you wouldn’t survive the night if you slept in your car.” He pointed at the rented jeep you had parked right outside the motel. “But there’s a man who can help. His name’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes. He often helps out stranded hikers and stuff, and I already called him and asked if he had room and he said yes.” 

The motel owner proceeded to give you details about Bucky and how to get to his house. From what you’d just learnt, Bucky Barnes was a business mogul who preferred seclusion. He was wealthy, and lived alone in his luxurious cabin that, rumour has it, he built himself. He was in his early forties and had people running his businesses for him all over the world. He moved to this small town after living in lavish cities his entire life. He owned acres upon acres of land, so he was also the local lumberjack and spent his time manually taking down trees whenever anyone needed wood. 

“Don’t worry, miss,” The motel owner reassured you, with a kind smile. “Mr. Barnes is a nice guy. Everyone around here knows him. Just follow the directions I gave you and you’ll find his house not too far from here. It’s a wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest.” 

When you got back in your car, the first thing you did was google the man really quickly. And the headlines, as you scrolled and read them, made your eyes widen a little each time. They were all basically just about what the motel owner already told you. But you needed to make sure it was all real. 

It was. Bucky Barnes was indeed a filthy rich business mogul who chose to come live all the way up here to get away from busy cities and journalists who always followed him around for quotes to put into their articles. 

And then, you began searching for pictures of this man. Your heart skipped a beat upon finding them. Pictures of him at fancy dinner parties, galas, charity events. Pictures of him shaking hands and clinking glasses with famous faces. Pictures of him on business magazine covers.

Pretty blue eyes, handsome face, and a kind smile. You noted the crinkles by his eyes whenever he smiled or laughed in pictures. Whenever he was photographed with a group of people, everyone seemed charmed by him. He seemed tall too. Oh well, safe to say the man was drop dead gorgeous. 

What if he was a serial killer and the people in this town directed victims to his house like he was some kind of twisted leader of this town?

You cringed at the exaggerated thought, shaking your head. 

Usually you weren’t one to trust strangers quickly but it was getting darker, the wind was beginning to howl and the cold was making you shiver even beneath all the layers you were wearing. The snowstorm was expected to last at least three days, so it was either trust a stranger for a few days or die. 

— 

You stopped your car in front of what the motel owner called a ‘wooden behemoth right on the edge of the forest’. And he was right. 

The luxurious log home was situated higher up on the mountain, looking over the small town. Surrounded by towering trees, mainly pine, and the area around the house was foggier than the rest of the town. It would’ve seemed eerie if it weren’t for the warm, golden lights coming from inside the house. 

The house was indeed massive, with intricate carvings on the huge front doors. The roof was covered with dark, polished slate, and what gave the home a more contemporary touch were the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. It looked like the perfect place for someone who sought seclusion and comfort. 

Or a murderer, your brain added. You hissed at the thought, shoving it away as you got out of your jeep. It was beginning to drizzle, the wind howling louder than earlier. You walked up the front porch and knocked on the large doors. 

Before you could check out the porch, you heard loud footsteps approaching. Then, the front door opened. And on the other side stood a handsome man, slightly different from how he looked in the photographs you’d found online, but just as gorgeous. Well, the photographs were all taken from years ago so it made sense that he looked different. Bucky Barnes hadn’t been photographed ever since he moved here, according to the articles, and it was a shame because he was truly a work of art. 

“Hey,” He said with a deep, confident voice. “You must be the girl I just received a call about from the motel.” He opened the door wider. And for a couple of seconds, you didn’t move. 

You were frozen in place. He was… too pretty. That same handsome face as in the photographs, except he had more facial hair now. And longer hair. So long in fact that he had to put it all up in a messy bun on top of his head. A few strands escaped the bun and fell on either side of his face, making him look beautiful in a rugged way. 

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander for just a second. He was just as tall as you imagine, but slightly more muscular than he seemed in the pictures. The white t-shirt he was wearing clung to him like a second skin, the jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should be illegal. 

You quickly looked up and cleared your throat before you got caught ogling. “Um, hi Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry for–,” 

He cut you off politely, “There’s no need to apologise,” He signalled for you to come in. And as you walked into his home he said, “And please, call me Bucky.” 

You smiled at him as you stood near the entrance, waiting for him to shut the door. When he turned to you, he asked for your name and asked what you were doing here. While you answered, he led you further into the magnificent house. 

If you thought it was beautiful from the outside, the interior was absolutely breathtaking. Spacious, with high ceilings. Most things inside were wooden, except for the rugs and the plush sofas. It was an open concept, and you could see the more farm-style kitchen from the living room area and it was just as pretty as the rest of the house. The more you looked around, the more you fell in love with the interior. Elegant curved staircase which led upstairs, massive fireplace, accents of stone and metals everywhere. It looked like a lot of thought went into building this home. 

“This looks like a dream.” You commented, standing in the middle of the living room and taking it all in. The owner looks like a dream too. You sighed at the sound of your inner thoughts. It was true. 

Bucky smiled, looking proud. “It took some years to build but…” He sighed, “It’s worth it.” 

You smiled at him, noticing the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled. Fuck, this man was beautiful. 

“Give me your keys, I’ll bring your bags in, then I can show you to your room.” He extended his hand out, waiting for you to drop your keys into his palm. 

“Oh.” Your face got all hot when you realised you’d just walked into his home empty handed. You’d forgotten your bags in the jeep. “I can go get it, it’s–,” 

“No, I’ll get it,” He cut you off again, stepped closer and took the keys from your hand. “It’s getting bad out there.” Then he walked away. 

And you shamelessly watched him leave. His back muscles moved and shifted under the tight shirt as he walked and you felt a shiver travel down your spine. Think about how those warm, hard muscles would feel under your fingertips… 

Shit. This man was being kind to you and here you were being a pervert. 

–

Bucky brought your bags in, all four of them. Carried them through the front door like they weren’t heavy at all. Well, he cuts down trees for fun so maybe he’s used to carrying heavier things. 

He showed you to one of the many guest bedrooms he had. And the room was just as beautiful and perfect as the rest of the home. King-sized bed, large chest drawer, private bathroom which was fully stocked with toiletries. Large windows, and a small balcony which overlooked the dense forest outside. 

“Well then, I’ll leave you to unpack and make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready in an hour or so. See you downstairs.” He left with yet another smile which made your heart skip a beat. 

–

You found yourself making your way downstairs after a long, warm shower. You wanted to unpack after your shower but then the smell of dinner cooking forced you out of the room. You followed the delicious scent of what seemed like pasta sauce, sniffing the air quietly until you made your way into the gorgeous kitchen. With an even more gorgeous man in it. 

“There you are,” Bucky smiled at you as you approached the large kitchen island which was also the dining table. “Everything okay with your room?” He asked, stirring some kind of sauce in a pan before resuming chopping some other thing. He looked so comfortable in his kitchen, it was endearing. 

“Yeah, everything’s good.” You answered, lingering by the kitchen counter awkwardly, “You need help with something?” 

“Sure, if you want.” Bucky nodded and pointed at the other side of the kitchen with his knife, and said, “Can you be a doll and grab us a red wine from the cellar?” 

You froze for a quick second at the sound of ‘doll’. It was sweet, but the way it sounded from his deep, smooth voice… you cleared your throat again before your thoughts got inappropriate, turning around and heading for the cellar because of course he had a wine cellar. 

After grabbing what you hoped was a nice wine, you made your way back to the kitchen and found Bucky plating pasta into two plates. He had a slight frown on his face as he focused on the plates. If there was anything you had noticed about Bucky it was that he was very detail oriented. 

Bucky’s frown disappeared the moment he looked up from the plates and saw you standing there. “Hope you like pasta and cheese.” He winked with a maddeningly handsome smile. 

“I do.” You smiled back, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as you handed him the wax sealed bottle of wine. For a brief moment, his hand brushed against yours and you could’ve sworn it felt like you’d been electrocuted. 

A strange shiver danced down your spine as you took a seat at the table and watched Bucky break the seal, uncork the bottle and pour it into two glasses before pouring the rest into a large decanter. 

All that wood chopping did him good. The man was muscular in all the right places. But his hands… oh his hands. Large, veiny. Imagine those hands all over– 

“So, tell me about yourself.” He said, taking a seat across from you. “And what are you doing on this icy mountain?” 

The conversation flowed perfectly. You told Bucky about how you were travelling to all the places you wanted to see before you moved back home, and he told you all about his life here. He said he liked the peace and quiet. Even the snowstorms, he grew to love them. 

By the time your plates and the decanter were empty, the two of you were laughing and exchanging life stories like you were old friends catching up. 

“So wait,” You chuckled, “You built this entire place out of spite?” 

Bucky nodded, laughing as well. “Well, I guess. My friend Sam came to visit when I told him I bought some land out here and he said ‘Well what are you gonna do here, Buck? You can’t just build a house in the middle of nowhere and become a lumberjack providing wood to the locals.’ and I thought, ‘Wait, that’s not a bad idea’, then I did exactly what Sam said.” 

You laughed, the wine made everything funnier. Bucky’s cheeks were now pink, his lips stained due to the wine and you couldn’t look away from him. Fuck, he really was gorgeous. He must have changed before dinner because he was no longer wearing that tight white shirt. He was wearing loose, beige coloured loungewear and looked just as mouth-watering. His hair was just as messy, but made him look effortlessly handsome. 

You eye-fucked him so more before realising that he was checking you out too, and neither of you had said a word for the past minute or two. But it wasn’t awkward. His blue eyes stared into yours and you were suddenly too aware of the thick tension in the air. 

The way he licked his lips, the way he toyed with the stem of his wine glass, the way his hand–

Bucky cleared his throat and looked away first. You tried to blink away the tension too but it remained. Then Bucky asked, “So, you have a boyfriend or something waiting for you at home?” He gave you a playful smirk. 

Oh? 

You shook your head, “Nope. What about you? You came all the way here to live in seclusion, are you running from an ex or something?” 

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.” 

That tension came back again, filling the air like smoke. You couldn’t ignore it. Neither could he, given how he fidgeted in his seat. 

This is wrong. Isn’t it? 

He was being kind enough to offer you shelter and you were being inappropriate. So before you did something you might regret, you said, “It’s late. I should head to bed. I drove all day and…” You trailed off, looking away and avoiding his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He said quickly, getting up from his seat. He went to reach for your plate but you grabbed it first. 

“Oh I’ll load up the dishwasher, don’t worry.” You moved before he could stop you, grabbing your plate and then his. Then the wine glasses and everything else. 

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you carefully arranged everything in the rack before turning it on. You washed your hands, and wiped it on a tea towel while turning to leave but Bucky’s heated stare stopped you. 

There he was, leaning against the kitchen island and looking even more yummy than the dinner he made. You were glad you had the tea towel in your hands otherwise you wouldn’t know what to do. 

Luckily Bucky spoke up first, “If I had known you were coming I would’ve made dessert.” 

Such a simple sentence yet it sounded like he’d whispered some dirty, filthy secret in your ear the way your body came alive. You refrained from clenching your thighs together. His voice was lower, deeper but just as smooth and it was driving you crazy just imagining how this man must sound in bed. 

And now you were jealous of all the people who had had the chance of hearing what he sounded like, moaning and grunting, whispering out of breath… fuck. 

“Uh…” You struggled to find your words, now that the image of him naked in bed wouldn’t leave your head, “That’s alright. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth anyway.” 

You didn’t know when you moved, but you found yourself standing closer to Bucky now. He turned to face you completely and there were mere inches between your bodies. You felt… hot. Maybe it was the wine, but you were almost certain it was because of the way Bucky looked at you. Like he’d devour you if he could. You had sensed tension between you and other people before, but it had never been this strong. 

“Shame,” He muttered under his breath, his hand coming up to gently touch your face. “I happen to like something sweet before bed.” His voice dropped to a whisper. 

All you could focus on was the way he was touching your face. Gently, like you were made of glass. His hand was warm, but rough. You let out a shaky breath as you wondered how his rough hands would feel all over you– 

“Go to bed.” He said in a voice that made you tingle all over. He didn’t let go of your face. His thumb caressing your cheek, and his eyes staring into your soul. 

You blinked, wondering if you misheard. “What?” You asked softly, leaning into his touch subtly, obviously not wanting to move. 

“Go to bed, doll.” He repeated, still not letting go of your face. 

You frowned slightly, “But–,” 

He cut you off by placing a gentle finger over your lips. His eyes couldn’t look away from where his finger touched your mouth. He leaned in a little, then said, “We shouldn’t.” 

“Why not?” You asked, lips brushing against his finger as you spoke. 

He gave you a soft smile and said, “I should be a good host, not seduce you.” 

You shrugged, “Well I’m nice and seduced, now what do we do?” 

He chuckled, leaning in until his nose brushed against the side of your neck. His simple touches were driving you crazy. 

“You know what happens when there’s a snowstorm in this town, doll? It lasts for days,” He whispered, lazily kissing your neck. “And by the time that’s over, the roads are completely blocked. And this is a small town so it takes a while before the roads are functional again.” 

Your heart fluttered, your body felt too hot and yet you shivered. You gently pulled away to look at him. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with you here for days?” You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. 

He caught the hopeful tone in your voice. Bucky nodded. “And if I touch you right now,” He whispered, cupping your face in his large, rough hands, “I’m not sure I’ll let you leave my bed at all for the next coming days.” 

It was risky because as beautiful as he was, you didn’t know Bucky. But you had never wanted someone this much before. This felt like a new kind of longing and need. You didn’t care what was right, ethical, or risky. “Then don’t.” 

That did it. 

Bucky stopped thinking why he shouldn’t and instead pressed his lips to yours, kissing you like he was tasting his favourite dessert. His tongue easing your own as he tasted you leisurely. “We’re sure about this?” He asked, breathlessly. 

“Yes,” You whispered against his mouth, gasping as his hands trailed up and down your body, sliding under your sweater and fondling your breasts. “We are.” 

Bucky smiled into the kiss, then spoke again. “Aren’t I too old for you, doll?” 

You chuckled, your own hands wandering and sliding up and down his muscular back. You wanted nothing more than to just take off that comfy hoodie he was wearing. “Oh, what’s a decade or two?” You murmured. 

Bucky’s hands dropped down to your waist, caressing your skin, fingers threatening to slip past the waistband of your sweatpants. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. The storm was picking up outside and it would surely drown out all your cries, not that there were any neighbours to hear to begin with. 

“Will you be good for me?” He whispered, kissing down your face as his fingers slowly dipped into your sweatpants. One hand held you at the waist while the other inched dangerously close to where you craved him the most. 

His touch, his words, it was all too much. “I’ll be good,” You replied, your hands sliding under his hoodie to finally touch him, exploring and curious. His body was incredible to the touch, hard muscles and warm skin. 

He finally slipped his hand into your underwear, hissing as he found you dripping wet. He chuckled against your skin as he kissed and licked your throat, “How long have you been this wet, doll?” He asked, sounding cocky. 

You gasped when you felt him sliding a finger inside you, gently. “Since you opened the front door.” You answered honestly. 

Bucky laughed, his warm breath tickling your ear. “That long, huh? I’m sorry.” He cooed, “Let me take care of it for you.” 

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt him slide another finger inside you, fucking you slowly with both now. Bucky kissed your neck, your face, your mouth. Licking and biting your skin as he pleased while he finger-fucked you until you were right on the edge. 

“Get up here.” He murmured, pulling his fingers and hand away and pointed at the kitchen island. 

You didn’t move immediately. Probably because your brain was all foggy from his kisses and his touch that it took a second for you to register and process his words. 

Bucky smirked and repeated. “Come on. Take your clothes off and get up here.” 

You did as he asked. Taking off your sweater and sweatpants, followed by your underwear and revealing your bare body. Bucky took a second, letting his fingers trail up and down your stomach and chest before he pointed at the island again. 

“Up.” 

You hopped on the edge with a giggle, hissing upon feeling the cold surface against your warm skin. Once sat on the edge, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. Bucky smiled as he placed his hands on you again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you stared into his ocean blue eyes. 

“Such a pretty doll,” He whispered, placing his hands on your thighs and spreading them further apart. He looked down at your wet folds, mindlessly dragging a finger up and down your slit, making you shiver all over again. “Now, lie down.” He said. 

You wasted no time. You unwrapped your arms from around him and carefully laid down flat on your back, hissing at the cold again. 

Bucky’s eyes trailed up and down your body, his hands caressing your skin. From your thighs, to your hips, to your breasts where he pinched your nipples, making you cry out again. 

“Can I taste you, doll?” He asked, pulling your legs up to the edge and spreading your thighs as far apart as they would go. The island was high enough where he only had to bend down for his mouth to touch your heated skin. Lips brushing against your lower abdomen, he asked again, “Can I?” 

Your brain was a mess. Yet you managed to mumble a firm, “Yes…” 

With his mouth mere inches away from your throbbing clit, he said, “Keep your legs up just like that for me, okay?”

You nodded, looking down in between your legs as he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your wetness. He looked up immediately, holding your stare as he slid his tongue against, the roughness of his beard against your softness was driving you insane. 

You held yourself up on your elbows as you watched him eat you out. The warmth of his mouth, the slow caress of his hands against your inner thighs, the intense look in his eyes as he tasted you. It made you feel like you were floating. 

It was too much, it was not enough. You wanted him, you wanted more. 

“You taste sweeter than any dessert, doll.” He whispered, kissing around your wet clit before sucking on it hard enough to make you come, your back arched off the surface, riding his face as you cried out in pleasure. “But it’s not enough.” He admitted, pulling away and kissing his way up your body. “Is it?” 

You barely caught your breath, your heart racing as you laid there in front of him. 

“Get down, and bend over for me.” He spoke in that enchanting voice of his which put you under his spell so easily. 

You moved immediately this time. He was still fully dressed and you didn’t have a single article of clothing on and somehow that made you feel hotter. 

You bent over the island in front of him, your front pressed against the edge. You placed your hands down and turned to look at him over your shoulder. You watched how he grabbed your hips and spread your legs, leaning closer to kiss up your spine. 

“So beautiful,” He whispered against the back of your neck. “Now, are you gonna let me fuck you? Hmm? Are you gonna let me put both of us out of our misery, doll?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.” 

He pulled his hands away from you for a moment, lowering his trousers enough to free his cock. You wished you could see it properly. You wished you could kneel down in front of him and take him into your mouth and– 

You gasped out loud when you felt the tip of his hard, warm cock pressing against you. Nothing mattered in that moment, not when he was gently rubbing his cock up and down your wet slit, parting your folds. 

You squirmed against the hard surface under you, pushing back into him in need. “Please…” You whispered, desperate for him. You had never been this needy for a man before. 

You braced yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming. 

Slowly, Bucky slid inside you, filling you up and stretching you out as he did. He let out a sigh of pleasure once he was seated deep inside you, gripping on your hips tightly as he gave you both a moment to get used to it. 

You felt so full, like you’ve never been before. So full, you could barely form a coherent thought. All you knew was you wanted more. 

You let out a quiet moan as he started fucking you gently. 

“You feel so fucking good,” He hissed, “So warm and tight for me.” Bucky whispered, fucking into you with a pace that made you want to scream and shout because it felt so good. 

Each time he filled you up, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot and you moaned as your walls clenched around him. 

“Poor little doll,” He cooed, “This will be your new routine for the next few days now. Just getting fucked, and caressed all the time while the storm rages on outside.” 

His thrusts got harder. Your moans got louder. His words made you clench around him even more. 

“Look at you,” He growled. “Pretty girl letting a older man she barely knows fuck her like she’s a needy little whore.” His voice was deeper, and as menacing as his words were his touch was just as soft and careful. His fingers circled your clit gently while he pounded into you from behind. “Would you bend over for any man, doll? Hmm? Whoever offered you shelter from the storm, is this how you’d repay him? By letting him fuck your needy little cunt?” 

You couldn’t help but cry out, moaning in pleasure as his words took you higher. You did have a little bit of a degrading kink, who didn’t? But never had anyone ever hit the spot like Bucky did. And given how your wetness dripped down his fingers, he could tell. 

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Does that turn you on, doll? Knowing that I can selfishly take from you now that you’re stuck here with me?” His other hand came up to grab you by the back of your neck as he whispered into your ear, fucking into you hard enough that your body slammed into the kitchen island with each thrust. “Does it turn you on knowing you’ll have to be my little slut for the next few days? That you’ll have to spread those legs for me and let me fuck you whenever I want to?” 

“Yes…” You whimpered as he pounded deeper into you. You didn’t want him to stop. Ever. 

He hissed into your ear, “Is that what you are now? My little slut?” He chuckled, rolling his hips in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him. “Well, what a perfect way of repaying me for my kindness, hmm?” 

“Please, Bucky…” You whimpered. 

Bucky hummed, kissing your warm skin, “I know, pretty girl. I know, it feels good, doesn’t it?” 

His words made you feel feverish, and wild. Lust-drunk more than ever. You moaned as he sped up again, a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in between your hips. 

You whined, “I’m gonna come.” You cried, and you were pretty sure you had tears streaming down your face. 

“Come for me, then. Come all over my cock, doll.” 

Your brain was a foggy mess after that. You came hard though, clenching around him violently as you did. 

“Fuck… look at you,” He whispered, his cock pounding harder into you until he came as well, spilling all over your lower back as he panted in exhaustion. “You okay, doll?” 

You nodded slowly, pressing your forehead down against the cool surface and catching your breath. 

“Come on,” His voice was softer now as he pulled you up and held you against him. Your back to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling your neck and leaving soft kisses all over your neck and the side of your face. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” 

You asked in a shaky voice, “And then can we fuck again?” 

Bucky chuckled, hugging you tightly before saying, “Yes we can, pretty girl.”

[wonryllis]

watermelon sugar | sim jaeyun.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.

meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader

genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, smut!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessing, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.

word count. so far 7k est around 15k MAJOR REVAMP!

warnings. sfw and nsfw to be added on full release

theme song. animals by maroon 5, into you by ariana grande

POSTED!!

“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards the half naked boy wearing only a pair of sweatpants. his black hair all dishevelled looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. walking out of his room, headset resting around his neck, before your eyes return to focus on the movie playing on the tv screen. “yeah sure,” he mumbles out softly, the rasp in his voice sounding probably like he stayed up all night again.

taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch and extending the bite of fruit towards your mouth,“here you go, candy,” his custom of feeding you, something he does so often, it's become a habit. after you’ve eaten it, he hands you the ball of sweetness and sits beside you to see what you’re watching.

not even a minute after and he’s fidgeting about. pulling up to sit cross-legged,“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he turns to look at you, raising his brows subtly,“well first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your sex deeds i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you throw a seed at him. which due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest.

keeping away the watermelon in a crackle of laughter, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off,“this is a public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”

“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.

“well that is exactly what you are but i’ll stop if you make me some sweet soy-glazed potatoes,” you grin with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.

taglist. ( open ) @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @nanabbg @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaasia111 @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @jyonvsn @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @zzaneavatsu @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer

[isaadore]

ALWAYS "YES" | CHARLES LECLERC

pairing dad!charles leclerc x mom!reader

⭑ SUMMARY no matter how many times you say “no” to ice cream before dinner or to another teddy bear she doesn’t need, charles always finds a way to give his daughter everything she wants. after all, he’d do anything to see his little girl smile. word count 1.5k

warnings none, just pure fluff!

note i'm so happy i found the motivation to write this because i've been thinking about a dad!charles au for a LONG time 🤕 this is the first fic for the au, so i hope u guys like it <3

MASTERLIST | CL16 MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST

A NEW STUFFED FRIEND

The toy store was a maze of bright colours and displays, each one more tempting than the last. Amélie’s eyes widened as she took it all in from her spot next to you, her little hand gripping yours as she craned her neck to see everything. You and Charles were trying to stick to your list—just a quick trip to pick up a birthday present for one of Amélie’s friends—but that was easier said than done.

As you turned a corner, Amélie’s gaze landed on a shelf filled with stuffed animals. One in particular, a soft, cuddly bunny with oversized ears and a pastel bow, caught her eye. Her face lit up, and before you could react, she was already reaching out, her voice full of excitement.

“Papa! Maman! Look at this bunny! I need it!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with that particular brand of urgency only a child could muster.

You gently shook your head, already anticipating the conversation. “Sweetheart, you have so many toys at home already. Remember how we talked about choosing carefully?”

Amélie’s enthusiasm wavered for a moment, but she wasn’t ready to give up. “But this one is different! I don’t have a bunny like this!”

Charles watched the exchange with a familiar look, caught between wanting to support your decision and the urge to make his daughter happy. “Amélie, Maman’s right. You have a lot of toys, and we’re here to get a gift for your friend, remember?”

Amélie’s lower lip began to tremble, her eyes pleading with Charles. “But, Papa…”

You sighed, knowing Charles’ resolve was weakening by the second. “Amélie, I know it’s hard, but we have to be fair. You don’t need every toy you see.”

Charles hesitated, his gaze shifting from Amélie to the bunny still within her reach. He crouched down to her level, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Tell you what, princesse (princess), how about we let this bunny stay here for now, but maybe… just maybe, Papa will find a way to bring it home later, as a special surprise? But it has to be our little secret.”

Amélie’s face brightened instantly, the disappointment fading as she nodded eagerly. “Okay, Papa! Our secret.”

You caught the exchange and gave Charles a knowing look, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. Charles straightened up, offering you an almost sheepish grin before walking with Amélie away from the display.

5 MORE MINUTES?

The evening had settled into a familiar routine, with Amélie snuggled in her pyjamas, ready for bed. You and your family spent the day running around the paddock, and the quiet of the night was a welcome change. As you readied her for sleep, Amélie’s favourite show played softly on the TV, its cheerful theme song echoing through the room.

As the show neared the end, Amélie's big eyes looked up at you, pleading. "Maman, can I stay up for five more minutes to watch the end? Please?"

You glanced at the clock, noting it was well past her bedtime. “Ami, it’s already late. We really need to get to bed.”

Amélie’s lower lip quivered as she made her best attempt at a sad face. “Just five more minutes? It’s almost over.”

Charles, who had been quietly watching from the doorway, stepped into the room with a gentle smile. “Well,” he said, crouching down beside Amélie. “I think we can make an exception tonight. Let’s see how the show ends, and then it’s straight to bed, alright?”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that five minutes would likely stretch a little longer. “Charles, you know it’s important to stick to the bedtime routine.”

Charles gave you a playful grin, his eyes twinkling. “I know, but I think a little leniency tonight won’t hurt. What do you think, Amélie?”

Amélie’s face lit up with a hopeful smile as she looked between you and Charles. “Thank you, Papa!”

You sighed, knowing you were fighting a losing battle, but you couldn’t resist Amélie’s excited face. 

“Alright, just a few more minutes,” you surrendered, a smile tugging at your lips.

Charles winked at you as he settled onto the edge of the bed beside Amélie. “Just don’t let it become a habit,” you added, as the three of you watched the show’s final minutes together.

As the credits rolled, Charles tucked Amélie in with a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, mon trésor (my treasure)” he whispered.

Amélie’s eyes fluttered closed, content and smiling. You turned off the TV and gave Charles a playful nudge. “You and your bedtime extensions,” you teased.

Charles chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around you. “This is the last time, I promise.”

I’VE GOT YOU

The park was bustling with laughter and activity, the warm sun casting a cheerful glow over the playground. Amélie darted from one attraction to another, her boundless energy a testament to her excitement. As you and Charles followed behind, it was clear she had her interest in a big slide—a structure that seemed to tower over the playground.

Amélie’s eyes sparkled as she approached the base of the slide, her excitement palpable. “Can I go on the big slide?” she asked, her tiny hands gripping the side as she looked up.

You took a deep breath, knowing the slide was a bit too big for her. “Amélie, that slide is really big and fast. I don’t think you’re quite ready for it yet. How about you try one of the smaller slides instead?”

Amélie’s face fell, clouded with disappointment. “But I really want to try it, Maman! I’ll be careful, I promise.”

"Maman's right," Charles agreed with you. But after seeing Amélie's face fall even more, he said, "How about this: I'll be right here to catch you. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You shot Charles a questioning look, knowing he was softening to her request. “Charles, I’m concerned about her safety. It’s not just about catching her; it’s about how fast and high that slide is.”

Charles gave you a reassuring look. “I understand, but I think Amélie deserves a chance to try it.”

Amélie’s eyes lit up with renewed hope. “Papa, you will catch me?”

Charles nodded, his gaze steady and confident. “Absolutely. We’ll go together, and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You sighed, recognizing the determination in both Charles’ and Amélie’s faces. “Alright,” you said, your voice softening. “But please be careful. And remember, just this once.”

Charles grinned as he took Amélie’s hand and guided her to the base of the slide. “Ready, mon ange (my angel)?” he asked, lifting her up to the top. “I’ve got you.”

Amélie climbed up with Charles’s encouragement and, with a little boost, she slid down with a squeal of delight, landing safely in Charles’s arms. She beamed with joy, clinging to him as they laughed together.

You couldn't help but smile as Charles helped Amélie off the slide, her face glowing with happiness.

“Thank you, Papa!” Amélie squealed, hugging Charles tightly.

Charles winked at you as he gently tousled Amélie’s hair. “Anytime.”

SWEET TREAT

Despite his fame and money, Charles preferred to do things himself, especially after Amélie was born. So, when it came to everyday tasks like grocery shopping, he always made time to head out with you and his daughter, rather than delegating the job to someone else.

“Pasta for dinner, again?” Amélie pouted, her tiny lip jutting out as you pushed her along in the shopping cart.

“You know it’s Papa’s favourite,” you replied, trying to suppress your smile. It was clear Amélie took this matter very seriously. Though she might be her father’s daughter, she definitely didn’t share his love for pasta, especially with how often Charles had it.

Charles appeared from another aisle, overhearing the conversation as he approached the cart and dropped a few more ingredients in.

“Come on, mon petit ange (my little angel), it’s been ages since I had pasta! You want Papa to be happy, don’t you?” he teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

Amélie grumbled in response but gave a small nod, crossing her little arms.

You turned away to stifle a giggle. “She’s so cute,” you whispered to Charles. “This never gets old.”

Charles smiled at you before turning back to his daughter. “Don’t be upset, Ami,” he said softly. “Maybe we could find something fun to make dinner more exciting.”

Amélie’s pout wavered, her curiosity piqued. “Like what?”

You caught the gleam in Charles’ eye and quickly intervened, “Something that isn’t candy, right? It’s almost dinner time...”

Charles chuckled, nodding, but you could tell he wasn’t being honest. “Of course, of course. But maybe just a little look at the candy aisle won’t hurt, hmm? Just to see what’s new.”

Amélie’s eyes lit up, her earlier sulk almost forgotten. “Can we, Maman? Just to look?”

You sighed, knowing where this was headed, but unable to resist the hopeful look on both of their faces. “Alright, just a peek.”

Charles grinned as he gently steered the cart toward the candy aisle. Amélie’s excitement grew with every step, and you found yourself smiling despite your best efforts to stay firm.

As you reached the aisle, Charles leaned down to whisper to Amélie, “Maybe there’s something small we can sneak in after dinner. What do you think?”

Amélie nodded eagerly, her earlier disappointment about pasta completely forgotten as she scanned the colourful shelves. You shook your head with a smile, knowing Charles would always find a way to make his little girl happy, dinner rules or not.

MASTERLIST | CL16 MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST

[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt. 1

paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan, college au word count: 6k summary: hooking up with a stranger at a party is fun when said stranger is a tall, attractive philosophy major whose name you don’t learn until weeks later. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (female and male receiving), a lil butt action but nothing too crazy

ao3 link can be found HERE.

“You’re a new face,” remarked the rich, husky voice belonging to the stranger who had just approached you. In a house party that was relatively packed, you thought you were blending in by sticking to the wall and enjoying your solo cup full of unlabeled liquor. And yet, here was the approaching figure of a man so tall you had to crane your neck to face him, knowing nothing about you and yet still managing to observe how out of place you seemed.

“That obvious, is it?”

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing about you, per se. It’s just, these things are usually pretty tight-knit; the same people come every time. So when someone’s new, you notice,” he tells you, his slow, calm way of talking making you feel relieved and deeply curious at the same time. “Do you go to school here?” 

You nod your head in confirmation, though it feels foreign to do so when parts of you still feel more like a visitor than a student. “I just transferred here.”

He smiles hospitably at this, gesturing his arms out towards the room of people who surround you. “Welcome to our vibrant community. Please enjoy your stay. Refreshments are in the back and the ice machine is down the hall.”

You giggle genuinely at him and the sort of clumsy, awkward way his words seem to land on you. He’s the kind of person you were expecting to meet when you transferred from your rural state school to this smaller liberal arts college. There’s something almost dorky and strange about him, from the way he dresses in an oversized cardigan and big round glasses to the way he holds eye contact with you for what you deem longer than normal. And yet, his self-assuredness is crystal clear to you. It’s at this moment that you acknowledge to yourself how attractive you find him.

“Did you come here with someone?” he asks you, his posture changing so that he’s leaning into you just slightly.

“Yeah. My roommate is here somewhere—” you gesture aimlessly around you, “—probably getting tongued down in someone’s bathroom.”

At this point, you had been fighting off the inclination to assume that the man in front of you was chatting you up for any reason outside of sincere curiosity. But his intentions are made crystal clear when he replies, “Yeah? Care to follow suit?”

You laugh both out of amusement and shock at his forwardness, and even he seems taken aback by his own candor as he smiles in a sheepish, apologetic sort of way. Still, the way that his piercing dark eyes never seem to cease their burning into you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he meant every implication embedded in that response.

“You know, you never told me your name,” you point out, not sure why you are prolonging what feels like the inevitable moment tonight when you’ll find yourself tangled in bed with the handsome man in front of you. Perhaps you’d just like to talk to him for a little bit longer, enjoy the gratification of his attention. Or maybe it’s just fun to tease him and watch the way his eyes crinkle in bashful embarrassment.

You’re pleased when he seems no less interested in you even as you divert from his advances. In fact, he perks up at your observation. “That I did not. Call me pretentious, but I like to think that learning my name is a privilege.”

You show your disinterest in this notion with a scoff, something the stranger seems to take in stride. “Is a man’s name not all that he has in this world, from birth to death?” he asserts with a prideful smirk.

“Philosophical. That your major?”

“How’d you know?”

You’re starting to feel a little scared with just how much you’re beginning to love the sound of your overlapping laughter. When it dies down, you bask in the brief moments of silence where neither of you knows what to say next and instead just stare at each other’s faces in an almost innocent, child-like way. It’s so different from what you’re both feeling inside, anticipation and lust and desire swirling in a mix that makes your bodies feel charged.

“So since you’re not telling me your name, should I tell you mine?”

“Only if you feel I’m worthy of it,” he replies. The game that he’s playing confounds you but you see no harm in playing into it, something tantalizing and freeing about not being bound to the expectations of each other’s names.

“That, my friend,” you reply, “is yet to be decided.” You raise your hand to push against his shoulder, surprised at how sturdy the skin under his cardigan feels. He ricochets dramatically against the force of your hand, and when his body returns to yours, it’s closer than before. He rests his hand on the wall just above your head, the way he’s angled making him appear even taller than he did before.

“You know, I was exploring this house earlier, and there’s a room in the back with a comfortable-looking king-sized bed,” he says, words that would sound fuckboyish and crude if anyone else said them, but come out dorky and amusing when he does, especially when his next statement is, “And the entire time I was in there, all I could think was, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to pillow fight with?”

You smile, the expression mirrored on the stranger’s handsome face as he watches you react to his off-putting way of flirting. You decide to help him out by being more direct. “Are you asking me to pillow fight with you, stranger?” you ask, voice tilted in your best attempt at sounding seductive.

“Only if you’d be willing, stranger.”

When your roomate convinced you to go out with her tonight, you were intrigued by the notion of getting to know this new campus community, plus the always-tempting chance to get a few drinks in your system. You weren’t thinking that you would be in this position, about to hook up with a guy who won’t even tell you his name. 

You’ve been feigning confidence up until this point, an easy enough task when the man in front of you is good-looking and talkative. But now, as you prepare to follow him with the pretty certain chance of having sex, you have to finish off the remnants of your drink first, allowing the heat of liquid courage to wash over you like a warm blanket.

“Lead the way,” you tell him, taking the hand that he offers you before being led through the crowd of partygoers.

He takes you into a bedroom that’s on the ground floor, allowing you to settle in in front of him as he takes heed to lock the door. The bass from the loud music outside vibrates against the enclosed walls of the room. You’re grateful that it’s not completely silent, otherwise this would feel more awkward. 

“See,” the stranger says, walking over to face you. “I wasn’t lying about the king-sized bed.”

With the way he’s standing over you, combined with the looming implications of what you’re about to do – or rather, what you’re about to let him do to you – you’re too anxious to laugh. Instead, you stare at him, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Do you like to kiss when you hook up?” he asks you, straight-forward and to the point. You like that. You’ve never understood people who don’t like to kiss those they’re having sex with. Is the act of kissing somehow more intimate than letting someone inside you?

“Depends,” you reply, already moving to cradle the side of his face with your hand. “Are you a good kisser?”

He doesn’t answer verbally, moving instead to lean in so that your lips meet. Everything about this man feels like a paradox. Your interactions thus far have felt innocent, awkward even, and yet they still led to you following him into a stranger’s bedroom with the intention of having sex. And now, though his looks and the way he carries himself feel so clumsy, the way he kisses you is intense, all-consuming. 

He wastes no time trying to build up to something intense. Without pretense, his tongue is invading the wetness of your mouth, forcing your lips open as an audible whimper of surprise spills out. One of his hands comes up to lace itself into your hair, and in another act that surprises you, he pulls on it so that your faces come even closer. You’ve never found the taste of liquor on someone’s lips more addicting than you do now. 

You pull away to find a smirk on his lips, cockiness written all over his expression as he asks, “What do you think?”

It’s hard to conjure up any words when his hand is still in your hair, tipping your head back so that his eyes can comfortably rake over your face and particularly linger on your reddened lips. “I think I really, really want you to fuck me,” is what you manage, and even if you were the type to feel shameful at such remarks, it would be hard to when your words visibly light up his handsome expression until he’s kissing you again.

Your lips melt into his in a kiss so passionate it has you both walking backward in an eager effort to get each other onto the bed. You waste no time in pawing the clothes off of his slender body, satisfied as you hear his jeans then his cardigan hit the carpeted floor with a soft plop.

He does the same when it comes to your dress, a flowy, strapless piece that required you to go braless for it to work. Once it’s off and you’re both down to just underwear, you’re met with the feeling of his bare skin against your bare skin, your bare chest against his bare chest, and more relieving than anything else, the feeling of the bed frame meeting the back of your thighs as you finally reach the bed.

Pushing you up onto the edge of the bed, he lets his hands wander the expanse of your body, enjoying the feeling of your tits squeezed in the palms of his hands. You lean into his touch, moaning a little in his mouth as he never stops kissing you, even as he reaches down to breach the waistband of your underwear. 

You don’t realize how wet you are until his slender fingers push out to separate your folds, a task made difficult as your sticky arousal glues your lips together. But he manages it dextrously, wasting no time in finding your clit and drawing slow, teasing circles with the pads of his fingers.

His other hand, which had up until this point been palming your breast idly, now comes up to hold your face as he regretfully pulls his lips from yours. He studies your expressions with furrowed eyebrows, a teasing lilt in his voice as he asks, “Do you like it when I touch you here?” 

Just as soon as you part your lips to respond, his fingers dip lower until he’s sliding two of them into your fluttering hole. Your wetness provides no resistance, and now he’s coiling them deep inside of you. “Or here?”

You can’t think or respond when he’s pumping his long, slender fingers in and out of you, an act made more intense as he forces you to look at him with his hand on your jaw keeping your head in place. 

If you had to describe sex you’ve had in the past, vulnerable isn’t a word you’d use. 

And yet, it’s exactly how you feel as his eyes never leave your face, overseeing every expression you make from overwhelmed to whimpering to having your lips parted in a moan. 

A faint part of you wonders if you should feel more uncomfortable with how intimate this sex feels. 

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more pent up just with someone's fingers inside of you than right now, especially when he opens his mouth to praise you in his deep voice.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says, his breezy tone of voice reminiscent of a lullaby. “I’m so glad I met you tonight. Can’t wait to fuck you.”

He fucks his fingers deeper inside of you as he says this, causing you to mewl as you throw your head back in his hands. “Don’t make me wait, then,” you challenge, gripping his arm to steady yourself as another moan threatens its way to your lips.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” he wolfishly remarks. “Well, if you insist.”

With am amused smile on his face, he pulls his fingers out of you, raising them between your two faces so that you both can look on at the wetness which coats them. You’re not at all surprised when he brings them to his lips, only turned on as he sucks both fingers clean with a wet smack.

“Wanna know what you taste like?” he proposes, his expression and tone of voice far too innocent for what he’s just done. You don’t respond, only pull him into you for a kiss so lewd it makes your insides jump. You reach your hand between your bodies as you kiss him, attaching your fingers to the bulge protruding from his boxers. You enjoy the feel of his clothed cock, large and substantial in your hands, before he’s pulling away to sigh against your lips. 

Your hand leaves his body as he moves away from you. “Don’t go anywhere. Need to grab a condom.”

You watch him in amusement as he goes to hunch over his discarded jeans. In his absence, you relax on your stomach, facing him on the edge of the bed. “Where would I go, stranger?”

“I don’t know,” he intones, returning to you with a silver packet in between his fingers. “But If I could freeze you like this forever, so pretty and waiting for me to fuck you, I would.”

The stranger’s way with words has your body responding once more, a ripple of electricity traveling up your legs and even more so when he takes off his boxers in front of you. You’re not ashamed at whatever expression of suprise is surely showing up on your face at the sight. 

You’d likely use the word pretty to describe his dick, veins bulging out of it like little vines and a tip that matches the rosy color of his lips. You decide then that he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, though you suppose you should save that judgment for when he’s actually managed to fit inside of you.

Your thoughts are broken by his touch as he lifts your chin up with his hands, a smirk ever so prominent on his puffy lips. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

You both giggle at his cheekiness, a moment of humour that is promptly ended when the opening of the condom packet grabs your attention. You reach out to cease his movements with a hand on his wrist. He meets your gaze with a cute, confused look on his face. “Wanna taste you first, stranger” you assert with a blink.

“You’re so cute,” he remarks enjoyably, “But I won’t last if you do.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them extra hard as you say, “Just a peck?”

As you already suspected from the lack of conviction in his earlier refusal, he’s not at all stern as he moves to rub his thumb across your cheek. “Since you asked so nicely,” he replies permissively.

You barely have to lean forward off the bed for your mouth to reach his cock, tall and straight and hard in front of your face. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you press a kiss just underneath his tip, making eye contact as you pull away to watch as a heavy sigh leaves his lips. You don’t stop at just one peck, peppering them all along his shaft and enjoying the smoothness of his skin against your lips.

“I thought you said just a peck?” he reminds you when he notices what you’re doing, placing a hand on your hair but making no effort to push you away.

“Am I not pecking?” you ask, relishing in the groan he lets out when you wrap your puckered lips over his reddened tip. You’re just about to open your mouth fully before he finally shows some restraint, pulling you off of him with a tug of your hair.

“That’s enough,” he asserts, the mattress dipping from his weight as he hops onto the bed behind you. “If I’m not inside of you within the next 5 seconds, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Conscious of his presence behind you, you raise your body into an arch and feel pleased when he immediately grabs at your hips to pull you in closer. He ignores the impatient little wiggles of your ass that you do in attempt to get him to fuck you, prefering instead to spread your pussy open with his fingers and groan as he watches arousal spill out of you. “You’re so fucking wet,” he remarks dreamily, sliding a languid finger inside of you in a way that makes your arch deepen. “And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?”

His vocal tone has taken a shift so that he sounds less adoring and more sadistic, the observance of your arousal being just for him stated almost matter-a-factly. You don’t know why it turns you on even more than before, but it does, especially as he plays idly with pussy as if he forgets it belongs to a living, breathing you.

You’re fighting off whimpers as his fingers continue their exploration of your entrance. You hear him let out a long, drawn out “Fuck,” under his breath before he’s withdrawing from you entirely and asking, “Can I eat you out?”

Images of his plump, rosy lips flash through your mind like a movie sequence before you’re humming out affirmatively, excitement of what’s to come making your body tense as you feel him laying down on the bed, feel his breath against your mound as he becomes level with your pussy, feel his lips against your clit as he goes in to take all of you in his mouth.

The sounds that fill the room now are nothing but a lewd combination of your moans, his slurping, and the continued blaring of music coming from outside the walls. The way that he eats pussy is almost just as clumsy and unsure as he is, but he somehow manages to make you cry out as his tongue expertly flicks against your clit, or he licks into your entrance to taste the arousal there. 

You feel yourself becoming lightheaded and breathless as he licks you closer into orgasm. Already worked up from all the time he spent fingering you, what feels like the last straw is when he experimentally licks upward and brushes his tongue against the tight skin of your asshole. Noticing how it makes you moan and reach back to pull at his long hair, he keeps going, wetting your ass with his tongue. 

Alternating between this and your cunt, it’s only a matter of time when you find yourself mewling and tensing as your orgasm takes over your body. Your thighs are shaking and your hands are pulling so hard at his hair that you’re afraid you’ll rip it, but nonetheless he holds you up with two large hands against your ass and groans as you come all over his face. 

When he finally pulls away from you, your body collapses against the bed, all the marks of a good orgasm hitting you at once – ringing ears, tensed limbs, rising chest. You’re brought back to Earth by the feeling of faint, fleeting kisses being left on the expanse of your spine, the stranger’s body pressed against yours before he’s level with you and moving to pull your head to face his.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, sweet and innocent in yet another moment of tenderness that feels inappropriate for the setting you’re in. Nonetheless, you nod and relish in the feeling of his mouth against yours once more, acknowledging faintly to yourself that he just might be the best kisser you’ve ever been with.

He brings your body back to life by snaking his arms underneath you, grabbing at your boobs and almost making you feel ticklish as he gently caresses your stomach. Pulling away from your lips, he mutters the command of, “Turn around,” against your lips that you follow with zeal.

Flat on your back, you’re brought face to face with the man who has exceeded your expectations in almost every way compared to anyone else you’ve slept with so casually. Long locks of dark hair drape against the sides of face as he holds himself above you, making him look intense, but only briefly before he’s asking through an impish smile, “Are you intimidated by eye contact?”

He says it to you like it’s a challenge, like he hopes you’ll be shy so that he can guide you through it anyway. You shake your head stubbornly. “No,” you answer, “But I’m intimated by you.” It’s true. You’ve definitely never met a person like him, never had sex feel so intimate with a complete stranger. It scares you.

“Don’t be. I’m really a softie,” he assures, a childlike expression of excitement lighting up his handsome features. He presses a hand against your cheek in a gesture of affection, lips curling into a grin. “Only, my dick is as hard as a rock right now. Kinda wanna bury it inside of you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You’re surprised when, in reply, he adjusts his body so that he’s lined up perfectly with your entrance, his latex covered tip pressing just slightly into you. “That’s a great question,” he quips, and without any further pretense, he slots himself inside of you.

You let out identical sounding sighs as his cock is engulfed by the sensitive, wet inside of your pussy. He presses his hips against you, making sure he’s as deep as he possibly can be before looking down at you for your approval. “Feels good?”

“Yes. Oh god, yes,” you’re whimpering in reply, head already thrown back as you get used to the feeling of his girth filling you. 

Hearing you express how good you feel is all the stranger needs to hear before he’s pulling out of you, methodically ensuring that just the tip is left inside before pushing back in. His vigor catches you by surprise, leaving you no time to adjust as he continues at a feverish pace. Unintelligible, broken-sounding cries spill out from your lips with each moment his hips meet yours.

“You have such pretty eyes,” he remarks as he watches you, a compliment you don’t think you’ve ever heard before while being fucked into the next dimesion. “And a pretty mouth, too,” he adds, his thumb breaching the wet insides of your lips before he’s leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is messy as you struggle to meet each other’s mouths, devolving into a mixture of tongue and spit and broken breath.

“Talk to me. Tell me how good I’m fucking you,” he groans against your mouth, sitting up on his knees to fuck you in an angle that’s deeper that before. With the pounding that he’s giving you, you’re just barely able to catch your breath, let alone form the words to respond to him.

“Can’t…scream your name if I don’t know it,” you manage to say in a teasing sort-of-way, your smirk widening into an open-mouthed cry as you’re sure he grazes your g-spot with a particualrly deep drive of his hips. 

He chuckles at your way of trying to get him to share his name, and whether he’s truly serious in wanting to withhold it from you or because he just wants to tease you, he says, “Come on my cock, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Fuck me harder, and I will,” you reply tauntingly, not because he’s not already, but because even through the haze of your approaching orgasm, you want to see how he’ll respond to your challenge.

He smiles at this request, though while maintaining his same pace. “But I don’t wanna break you, sweet girl,” he remarks, and if he weren’t, too, about to crash into his approaching climax, he’d surely make it a point to tease you for how you clench at the pet name. Instead, he opts to slot a hand between your legs and make work of your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. “Does this help?”

Just as you were sure this sex couldn’t get any better, the added stimulation to your clit has your entire body reeling with pleasure. “Oh god, yes. Don’t stop.”

With each approaching second, you can feel yourself about to fall apart, a condition only worsened when the stranger pulls you down by your hips, bringing him even deeper inside of you. You love the sound of his deep voice from above you, sounding almost far-away and dreamlike as he mumbles remarks like, “Keep making those pretty noises for me, baby,” that shoot straight to your core, only adding to your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re killing me baby,” is what he says as his own pleasure begins to reach it’s peak. You love the expressions he makes, the almost painful look on his face as he says, “Wish I could come inside this tight little pussy.”

Even with the knowledge that he put a condom on, you can’t help but react positively to the notion of being filled with his hot, sticky release. And without intending it, your walls close tightly around his cock in tandem with the loud moan that on its own revealed just how much you enjoyed that little tidbit of dirty talk. And without fail, the stranger is quick to pick up on it and tease you for it, though through his own gritted teeth and groans as he inches closer to release.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? If I filled you up with my cum? You wanna have my baby and you don’t even know my name?’

It’s the half-degrading, half-awe-inspired tone of voice he uses that throws you over the edge, your thighs shaking in anticipation of what you’re sure will be an earth-shattering orgasm. “I’m close,” you confess through baited breath.

“I know you are,” he acknowledges in reply, and without warning, your body convulses with the strength of your climax. “That’s it. Come on my dick.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt anything quite like the overwhelming pleasure that washes over you in a series of pulsating, neverending waves. The stranger fucks you through it without any alteration in speed, and it’s just as you’re about to squirm away in overstimulation that he finishes with one last, deep thrust inside of you. The sound of his groans are just as melodic and husky as his voice is, sending little afterschocks of arousal up your belly until finally, he pulls out of you with a grunt.

Looking up at the ceiling, you feel the mattress dip beside you as he collapses onto the bed. Usually, this would be the point where the post-nut clarity hits you and you’d begin to regret another series of bad decisions that led you to a stranger's bed. Instead, as you lock eyes with who might possibly be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, you only wonder what you did to deserve such good fortune to have met him tonight.

“That was fucking amazing, stranger,” he remarks, putting voice to your own exact thoughts as he rolls over so that he can stroke your cheek idly. You try to hold off the pestering inclination to blink so that you can take in the rosy-cheeked, delicately striking state his orgasm has left him in. 

You thought that after giving you what was surely the best pounding of your life that you’d be less inclined to view him as a total weirdo. Instead, there is something so innocent now about the way he looks at you, as he can’t even believe this happened. Wanting to tease him, you reply, “Good enough for me to learn your name?”

He considers your question with an impish chuckle, and though you’re not at all desperate to know his name, you’re still surprised when he replies, “Will you forgive me if I say something tells me I want to keep you hanging for just a little while longer?”

There is an air of mysteriousness to his words that you pick up on but have trouble interpreting. And while you itch to know what’s going on in that big brain of his, you decide not to question him any further, instead just appreciating the ease and contentment of this moment. 

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him candidly, leaning in so that the tip of your noses touch. “But I’m glad I met you tonight.”

You’re not embarrassed at all when you lean in to kiss him, because even though the sex is over, you just want to feel his lips against yours one last time before you go back to being two strangers who will likely never see each other after this. He reciprocates, seemingly ignorant to the idea of kissing someone chastely as he pulls you in and slips his tongue into your mouth.

Nevertheless, when you pull away, you know the moment is over when he says, “Walk of shame out the door together?”

You’re not sad, only content as you turn to him and answer. “Let’s.”

It’s a cozy Thursday morning on your campus as you step outside to meet with your friend, Jaehyun. When you had allowed him to borrow your computations textbook, you had no idea it would lead you to his apartment complex, where he swore he had left the book on accident.

“I promise you, I thought I brought it with me to class, but I must’ve left it in my room,” he explained sheepishly, patting his pockets as he searched for his apartment key. With his straight-cut bangs and habit of forgetfulness, Jaehyun was about the closest thing to a friend that you had since transferring. You went to the same high school together, congregating in the same social circles but ultimately going two separate ways after graduation. 

It wasn’t until your first day at this new school that you sat down for your morning class and discovered that Myeong Jaehyun went here, too. Since that moment of recognition on both of your ends, he’s been your only piece of relative familiarly in a place that still feels new to you.

“Here we are,” mumbled a disgruntled Jaehyun as he finally managed to unlock the door to his apartment. It was your first time seeing the place, and as far as student housing went, you were impressed. The space was populated with nice-enough-looking furniture and boyish decorations that you could tell belonged to Jaehyun and whoever his roommate was.

“I’m gonna go get your textbook from my room. You can wait out here,” said Jaehyun, turning to head into the hallway where the rooms were. You were just about to get comfortable, maybe sit on his couch and chill as he invariably spent ages looking for your textbook, until the noise of a door opening startled you into attention.

“Oh hey,” said Jaehyun casually to a familiar silhouette that appeared into the hallway. “Y/N, this is my roommate, Leehan.”

You fought the urge to laugh out loud as you were met with the image of the stranger who, just a few weeks ago, was drilling his cock into you in some of the most mind-blowing sex of your life. When he first came out and hadn’t noticed you yet, he simply looked curious, as if he was coming out of his room to see what was causing the noise. But now, he barely fights off a smirk as he, too, processes your presence. All of this goes unnoticed by an unsuspecting Jaehyun, who proceeds into his room to rummage for your textbook.

Left alone with the boy who you can now identify as Leehan, you look him up and down, taking in his casual appearance and hair that has only grown longer in the time since you last met. He leans against his doorframe, looking you over with a gaze just as intrusive before saying, “So. Y/N, huh?”

Both of you laugh out loud at the same time, the humor and awkwardness of the situation hitting you all at once. The smile on Leehan’s face forces his eyes into crescent shapes that you faintly acknowledge as endearing. 

“Leehan,” you state with a grin, returning the preceding instance of acknowledging each other’s names. “It suits you. Although, I’m not sure it’s special enough to justify you withholding it.”

He shrugs indifferently at that, looking not even a little embarrassed as he replies jokingly, “What can I say? I prefer an air of anonymity when conducting my one-night stands.”

“Is that what that was?” you quip back with a tilt of your head. You know exactly that that’s what it was, but playing coy about it is how you save yourself from the embarrassment of having to address the weird sexual-tension-mixed-with-awkwardness that lingers between the two of you.

He runs a hand through his hair, maintaining the smile on his face as he shrugs noncommittally and replies, “I don’t know, I was too drunk to remember. In fact, who are you again?”

You both giggle, the atmosphere and banter between the two of you surprisingly easy, even outside the context of being drunk at a house party. You can faintly hear the sounds of Jaehyun’s rummaging becoming louder a few doors away, letting you know he’s no closer to finding your textbook. To your own internal surprise, a tiny part of you is relieved to have the time to see where this interaction with Leehan will go.

“So, you’re friends with Myeong Jaehyun?” he asks, gesturing his head in the direction of his roommate’s door just a few feet away. You notice how he slips his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and straightens his posture, a move somehow making him look 10x taller.

“It’s a love/hate sort of thing. But yes, I’ve known him since high school.”

The corner of Leehan’s lips switch into a half-smile, something foreboding in his tone as he then says, “Then I guess I should expect to see you much more often, Y/N.”

You raise a questioning eyebrow, and through a confused grin, ask, “Why do you say that so ominously?”

Leehan doesn’t answer at first and instead just maintains his piercing gaze on your face. He’s so strange, but what’s even stranger is that you find yourself attracted to him. Attracted to him and his weirdly crooked smile and habit of staring at people for longer than normal. His shaggy brown hair and pouty lips that you can’t forget were once meshed with yours.

“No reason,” he finally answers, and before you can question such obviously purposeful ambiguity, it’s just then that Jaehyun comes out with your textbook.

“Found your book,” he says, cradling the thick textbook underneath his arm. Looking over at Leehan, whose open-mouthed expression obviously reveals he was in the middle of saying something, he pauses. “You good, Leehan?”

Leehan maintains a passive expression, though the hints of a smirk just barely bleed onto his lips as he gestures his head in your direction. “Yeah, just talking to Y/N.”

Jaehuun exchanges an inquisitive look between the two of you. “You guys know each other?”

Not sure how to answer that question, you look to Leehan for any non-verbal guidance. And funnily enough, he looks to you with the same sort of expecting look, and now you’re staring at each other for longer than normal, fighting back laughter as a confused Jaehyun looks on.

“You could say that,” Leehan replies, nodding his head affirmatively.

part 2 can be found HERE

taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s

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[from-m-izzy]

diving in | tbz eric sohn

“you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

pairing » the boyz eric sohn x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship, non-idol au!

genre »​ smut 18+ (PLEASE MDNI!!) 🔞 (kinda) surfer eric, some fluff

word count; estimated reading time » 1970; ~8 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » dom!eric, sub!reader, public sex (on a surfboard in the ocean, quite far away from the rest of the crowd), praising (reader receiving), dirty talk (not explicit), begging (reader to eric), pet name (baby girl, pretty girl), nickname (buff puppy; reader to eric), fingering (reader receiving), marking and kisses on skin (reader receiving), reader has medium-long hair, reader wears a bikini, eric is shirtless, eric and reader are the same height, eric implied to have a bigger build, orgasm denial (once), cum tasting (eric to reader)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday bubba @mosviqu 🥰 just a little something for you 🫂 thank you for proofreading and helping with warnings last minute @sanaxo-o 🥰

In between your chaotic university schedule and unhelpful teammates in your group work, came Eric's idea to take a day at the beach. You're more than enlightened at the idea, already sorting the day's wardrobe in your head.

Now, the toasted sand tickles between the crevices and around your bare feet, but you don't flinch, feeling your muscles relax instead. Your exposed stomach and back bask in the sun, delightful at the kiss from the sun. Eric walks beside you, his right hand protectively landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him; reminding the others around you to stop looking at your lower cheeks and upper chest which makes him scowl.

"You're looking hot but I hate how others can see you like this." Tucking his hand on the aide waistband on your bottoms and letting the material slap your skin.

You raise an eyebrow at him, your head dipping and rising at his exposed chest, "Speak for yourself, you buff puppy."

There and then comes Eric's light and golden smile that had you since day one, that only seemed all the more attractive with the limited skin contact that you share due to your light blue bikini and his pink swimmers. For Eric, it's the fact that the sight of you like this makes him want to take you right then and there, but he needed to stay civil in the public place.

You made your temporary post in the crowded space, spreading your beach towel and your belongings under the beach umbrella that you recently bought. Eric sticks his surfboard onto the sand next to where you would be sitting, creating more walls from the setting yet still scorching sun. You both settle in, popping off the cap of your sunscreen.

"Need help?" Knowing well enough that you will accept it.

A generous amount is applied to his palm and Eric guides you to sit between his spread legs as he begins applying the lotion starting from your shoulders and along your spine. You should've known that he was plotting something for even though you couldn't see the spreading grin on his face, his hands did all the talking. From the curve of your shoulder, coming to curve to your chest.

Slightly turning your head around, you shoot him a raised eyebrow but he feigns a straight face. His fingers go beneath the shoulder strap, following the line to your breasts. At least, you thought he would be groping you over the clothing but were proved wrong when your hardened buds were between his fingers that swiped and tugged making your back straighten.

"E-Eric---" Looking around at the oblivious children and parents. You couldn't help but squirm into him, the tip of his finger now circling your sensitive buds.

A hand flies to cover your mouth and Eric only shoots you a smile at the way your lips tremble in pleasure. "Good girl." Oh, he's crazy to call you that in public. "Looking all pretty for me."

"Oh..." His fingers tap teasingly towards your clothed mound, making your legs close instinctively. Eric clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval, to which you shakily open your shaking legs once more to him. You know where this is going and you should probably keep some public dignity but how could you when the length of his fingers covers your slit, brushing you in an upwards motion, proud of the dampening fabric that he's created?

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, gasping for the air above. The whimpers that you let out are now clearer and closer to your boyfriend’s ears and once again, it takes Eric everything to not turn you around, tug both your underwear down and guide your surely pooling arousal around his hardening part.

But he’s got better ideas than what you both usually do behind closed doors. The fact that you’re gripping onto his forearm, gasping for air and his touch despite only having a minimal amount of coverage to the world around you makes the idea in his head all the more interesting to try. Without another word, Eric retracts his arm, scooting backwards before standing up.

Your furrowed eyebrows contrasted with the cute jut of your lower lip as your head turned, eyes following to see him retrieve his surfboard from the sand, tucking it below his arm. Eric winks at you and before you can protest your disappointment about the building orgasm, he crouches eye level with you, stealing a peck from your lips. 

“Come on,” he tilts his head towards the body of water, “you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

You couldn't see through that mischievous smirk and that annoyingly charming wink sent once again. Even though you rolled your eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, he knew that you would accept the hand that he has put out for you. Just like before, his fingers curve around the side of your waist, the surfboard from before under his arm as you both make your way to the crowded ocean.

At first, everything is civil. You both cupped your hands together to splash the salty liquid on each other’s faces, innocent and beaming in the summer. Eric would use the board as a barrier from your attacks and in turn, you would shout at how unfair he was being in the fight. The cooling water around you and the way the sand below you would most probably get between your feet when you walk back. The particles of sand would also be around your body, stuck between the gap between your bikini and your skin. But it’s fun and spending this time to just forget about your priorities is great, especially when you can do it with the love of your life. 

It’s true when people say time passes by fast when you have fun for with each passing splash to each other’s faces, the sun sets and the temperature drops even more, and Eric’s love and warmth for you becomes all the more evident. As you have fun together, you’ve reached a part of the area where it’s more secluded. The laughter of the families, squealing children and somewhat worried parents were quite a distance---it’s enough for you both to be moderately loud together; whatever those noises may be from. Eric pulls his body onto the floating board, legs straddling on each side, eyes forward towards the horizon and sunset. You gazed up at him with adoration, resting your arm onto the unoccupied part of the board as you gaze at the scene too. 

He admires the scenery in front of him, alternating between that and you next to him still in the water. You're left still in the water until he acknowledges you once more with a kiss, slotting his lips between yours. His thumb and index trap your chin, controlling the flow of the kiss. Eric smiles at the swipes of his tongue that would make your eyes slightly roll back. Your hands grip his thigh, slightly pushing him down in an attempt to dive into the kiss further. To the shaky movement, Eric tightens his hold on your chin, separating your wet lips with an innocent shake of his head.

“Don’t make me fall, baby girl,” He warns you softly. “Come here.” He pats on the board in front of him, instructing you to get on the board with minimal movement. 

Because of your lack of experience with the surfboard and everything about surfing, it was a little bit of a struggle to get on the rocky surface. The natural waves didn’t help you either. But Eric’s skilful balancing skills, tilting his upper body to the opposite side of the board of where you are to maintain his drying hair eventually made you both succeed in sitting together to watch the sunset in his arms. With his hands on your waist, he pulls you and himself closer, loving the feeling of your exposed back on his defined chest.

You exhale at the feeling, leaning and putting your weight onto him. To be honest, you could fall asleep to the sound of the waves, Eric’s humming and the way his thumb caress your skin. But Eric did not want you to fall asleep---he wanted the opposite of your snores and relaxed brain. His hands start to trail down, following the downward curve of your thigh, again towards your core that you couldn’t tell if it was your arousal or the sea. You gasp at how he didn’t bother to tease you from above your underwear, tugging cloth to one side, inserting one finger straight into your pooling hole.

“You can be louder,” he encourages the whiny moans that you started to voice, “They’re all away from us.” Referring to earlier when you were in a ‘more’ crowded place. 

Eric made use of his mouth, opened lips landing on the area between your neck and your shoulder. He makes his mark along the slide, sucking open-mouthed kisses while his fingers start to increase the pace, driving you to your wave. Your thighs start shaking, just like your ragged breaths and the slight thrashing of your head resting laid on his shoulder. Just like he wants, your voice becomes louder, not only because you’re right next to him but because you’re starting to not care about the setting you’re in.

“Keep still,” he reminds you of the uneven surface, “if you keep moving so harshly, you won’t be able to cum.” With this, his hand that has tugged your underwear away lets go and the elastic slaps to his retracting hand increase its pace and stretch your hole as he inserts another finger.

Your hands grip his wrists, hazy eyes gazing down to see the trembling of your thighs that have started to grip the blue board as you feel the increase of your release building up. Eric syncs your moans to the plunging of his fingers inside you. The tip of his fingers reaches your sweet spot, hitting that spot each time to leave you all the more breathless. Another finger is inserted and you can’t help but lean almost all your weight onto Eric now, losing your mind at how Eric constantly hits the spot that he knows all too well.

“Faster,” you beg to compensate for the orgasm he took away from you earlier. “Please don’t stop.” 

Eric complied with your request, turning his head towards the crook of your neck and littering soft small kisses to the back of your ear. Each time he pulls away from another peck comes another encouraging praise from all the “You’re taking me so well” to the “My pretty girl” to the dirtier words that encourage to finally coat his fingers with a layer of you. He didn’t stop at your orgasm, letting the surge of relief travel all over your body, only beginning to slow down when your breathing normalises. 

Eric’s gaze on your side profile is adoring, his hand coming back to cover your spent core. His face comes up to nudge and trace along your jawline and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You alright?”

You chuckle back, turning your head to nudge your nose against his, “Yeah. You?” He nods and kisses you still with a wide smile. “Amazing balance you have here, Mr Sohn.”

“I know,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “I am amazing.”

You couldn’t argue with that statement. Eric Sohn is the love of your life after all.

“You know what else is amazing?” You raise an eyebrow at the question. Eric gives that mischievous smirk again, lifting the three fingers that made you gasp for air a few minutes ago, “Open up.” 

Diving in once more.

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[pparadiselost]

milk and honey.

bull hybrid! ushijima x farmer! human! reader in the midst of the summer heat, ushijima decides he wants to cross the line. warning(s): nsfw, hybrid au, hybrid x human, heat cycles, slight public sex, breeding, creampie, allusion to cock bulges, mentions of cervix kissing, reader described to be smaller in size than ushijima minors do not interact. author's note: hello! this is my entry as part of the house of solis occasum's summer-themed fic exchange! i was assigned to write for @stopisa, so i hope you enjoy reading this, isa!

it’s hot.

the air buzzes with the tremor of life awakening, and the heat hangs amidst the air like a thick quilt enveloping the earth. this is one of the few times throughout the year that you’re actually grateful to wake up early, otherwise you’d be out in the fields at the mercy of the summer sun. still, you can feel your skin start to stick to your clothes as you leave the comfort of your house and make your way towards the picturesque meadows where you’ll spend most of your morning.

it’s not much, being a farmer and raising a hybrid on your farm, but it’s honest work. you do your best to take pride in it, and being on a small farm means that you can form a special connection with every single little part of the land and its inhabitants. 

maybe you’re going insane after staying in the countryside this long, but sometimes you swear your crops love you back as much as you love them. the tomatoes with their lanky vine-like hands wave hello as you spread fertilizer around them, and the summer-time flowers enjoy wiggling their petals at you like they’re little ladies dusting off their petticoat dresses. as much as you would love to tiptoe through the greenery and see what kind of gossip the chatty breeze brings you, you have a more pressing task at hand.

a picnic basket with a red plaid blanket wrapped around it bounces off of your hip as you make your way towards the small cottage-like structure on top of the hill. you chose to take the few minute walk to admire the sun-kissed strands of grass greeting you hello as the tiramisu cake dust-colored dirt crunched against the bottom of your boots. yes, this was all work, but finding the silver lining in the beautiful was what made the work worth it.

you give a small huff, feeling the summer heat pressing against your body as you knock against the entrance to the cottage. you can hear heavy footsteps from the inside, and you don’t have to wait too long before the door carefully swings open. the smell of clean hay and cloves of cinnamon emerge from the interior, an odd comfort amidst the stark darkness that linger within. your eyes trickle upwards towards the top of the doorframe, where a figure easily looms above you. his silhouette engulfs you wholly without another word, cloaked in the shadows and the safety of the little hutch atop the hill.  

you beam innocently. “good morning! how are you today? did you sleep well? i hope i haven’t woken you up or anything…! i know summers are rough for you, since you have a tendency to go into h-”

he coughs loudly to cut you off as quickly as he can. 

he steps forward slightly, and he ducks his head so he doesn’t bump against the wooden doorframe. you knew from the get-go that taking a hybrid into your care was no easy task, but you really had your work cut out from you when you first took ushijima wakatoshi into part of your life. you never regretted a single second of the time you’ve spent getting to know him, but you definitely had your work cut out for you in earning his trust. you like to think that you’ve done a good job by putting a roof over his head, food in his belly, a wide world at his fingertips to explore, and a companion in the form of you. the poor boy had always been formal, polite, and it wasn’t until too long ago that he quit keeping you at an arm’s distance and let you come in closer to his guarded heart.

you wonder what he thinks, sometimes. even now, when looking up at him, the two of you couldn’t have more disparate appearances. whereas you’re your run-of-the-mill human farmer, ushijima is huge. he’s a proud but self-contained bull hybrid, and he towers over you like it’s nothing. he’s built like a true bull too, with nothing but layers of muscle on him that honest to god makes you swoon a little if you think about it too much. perched atop his head of olive-greenish brown hair are some tiny cow ears with a little tag stating his connection to you, and placed firmly around his neck is most prized possession: a cowbell that you gifted specially to him.  

he’s beautiful. hybrid or not.

he nods gruffly, and he hopes you don’t notice the light shade of pink dusting his usually stoic cheeks. “i slept well, thank you. how about you? do you have a lot of work?”

you would never do anything without his explicit permission, so everything he has to his name right now is all things that the two of you agreed on. he wasn’t fond of the idea of becoming your hybrid “pet” and opted to ask for a separate place to live, claiming that he preferred the hard boundary to remind himself of the rift between human and hybrid. and so you complied. in time, ushijima felt less like a bull hybrid and more like a neighbor that happened to be a hybrid, but there were moments where he’d remind you of the metaphorical line he had drawn in the sand.

“not today! i want to spend some time with you. if you aren’t busy…,” you gleefully hold up the basket into his field of vision, “do you want to have a picnic with me?”

his gentle, brown eyes widen. you want to hunt down whoever said bull hybrids were uncontrollable and dangerous and smack them upside the head. ushijima is nothing but considerate to you, and looking at the way his eyes twinkle at the idea of spending some time with you and sharing a meal only proves your faith in him.

“...if it’s alright with you, i would love to.” he nods again. he shyly folds his hands, and your grin widens. you grab for his big palms, tugging him out of his cottage and out into the beautiful summery world unfurling in front of you. despite his massive size, he stumbles out of the cottage and barely gets to shut his front door before you’re tugging on him like he’s a ragdoll. 

and he lets you. he lets you usher him past his front gate and back towards the green, green meadows filled with flowers and sweet grass and all sorts of butterflies just waiting to become the backdrop to your lunch escapade. you’re so small and so sweet in comparison to him, and even though he could crush you like you were nothing if he so chooses to, you always come to him with open arms and a sunny smile that disarms him instantaneously.

he’s sure that’s why it didn’t take long for him to fall for you. as you practically dance in front of him, leading him past the thick wooden gates and into a secluded field onto your farm, he wonders if you have any clue as to how he feels.

…

…

…

it’s hot.

you’re glad to be sitting in the shade when the unrelenting summer heat amps up, and the sun lingers high in the sky as it takes its midday rule with an iron fist. ushijima’s grateful for the cool breeze under the trees as well, and he’s especially grateful for the fact that you had the foresight for the heat when he notices the ice packs placed inside of the picnic basket. the red blanket contrasts the vibrant green of the meadow, and he sits calmly in the center as you unpack the goodies you prepared for the two of you.

“juice? do you prefer watermelon or strawberry?” you hold up two chilled bottles up. 

ushijima blinks at you. “you can pick the one you like better. i like both equally.”

“you’re being too nice!” you laugh as you hand him one of the bottles. he watches with keen eyes as you twist the cap open and take a hearty swig. his jaw tightens ever-so-slightly when he sees the way your throat bobs with each swallow, and a small dot of red juice beads at the corner of your mouth. you let out a clearly refreshed gasp when you lower the bottle, and the tiniest string of saliva connects your lips to the mouth of the bottle for a split second.

he forces a deep breath through his nose, and he lets his eyes flutter shut for a moment. no, this was no situation to act in such a profane way, and he had to know his place. he instead drops his gaze to his own drink, focusing on the way the cool material of the bottle felt against his hot hands, and he follows your example in opening his own share and taking a sip. the decadent taste of sweet fruit fills his mouth, and it goes down the hatch in one thirsty gulp.

“i made sandwiches! and don’t worry, they’re vegetarian just for you.” your singsongy voice breaks him out of his short lived reprieve, and you gesture at him to come closer to you. ushijima feels something deep inside of his stomach stir like a beast awakening from a long slumber when he sees your unsuspecting smile, but this one doesn’t go down as easily when he swallows again. 

you pick one out of the basket and hand it over to him. “look, look! i found a guide online about cutting them into animals. and they even had a cow tutorial, see? i made them all cows, because they reminded me of you! what do you think?”

the sandwiches are tiny in his big palms, but he can see the care you’ve put into making each one. they’re a little crude around the edges, most likely because it’s your first time trying to cut them out in such a specific shape, but ushijima thinks they’re adorable. frankly speaking, you could have put slop on a plate and given it to him, and he’d still eat it all up so long as you were the one who made and delivered the food. 

he stares at the sandwiches for a bit longer, trying to push the thought of your small fingers assembling the foot together or the way your face might have been scrunched up in concentration. he bites down on the inside of his cheek, and something akin to shame and embarrassment flickers like a flame in his gut. it’s wrong of him to feel this way towards you, to lust after everything you do. part of him wants to blame his animalistic nature, the undeniable instinct nestled deep inside of his brain, and the fact that it’s only a matter of time before his hormones overtake him and he’s plunged into the depths of his yearly mating cycle. there’s nothing more he would love to do than to overwhelm you with that primal yearning, to satisfy his own bodily cravings and make you his mate.

but it would be wrong. he knows it’s wrong. the rational part of him scolds himself thoroughly, that this was the entire reason he’s so adamant about keeping some distance between the two of you. it hurts him, but it would hurt you more both physically and emotionally, if he were to go rampant and tear into you like some kind of uncontrollable animal.

he lets out a deep exhale and decides to choke down his food. even entertaining these kinds of thoughts are dangerous, and he doesn’t want whatever thinly veiled restraint he has left in him to snap. you’re rambling on about wanting to take a nap in the afternoon sun next to him, but your words go in one ear and out the other. all he can focus on is the dulcet tones of your voice and how his cheeks are heating up. he wants to blame the summer heat, but he knows he can’t. the heat comes from somewhere far deeper, somewhere far more sinister, somewhere more base. 

his belly feels unnaturally tight, and he hastily stuffs another bite of sandwich into his mouth to distract himself. 

this is going to be a difficult picnic for him. 

…

…

…

it’s hot. 

ushijima’s hands are big, and his palms are rough as he grips at your waist. you can feel beads of sticky sweat trickling down your back and your forehead, and your legs tremble as he grinds down on you. he’s not pressing his full weight on you yet, but his body feels heavy. it makes your pussy clench around nothing, feeling the sheer size difference between your bodies.

“you’re… you’re torturing me.” he grunts. he has you pinned down underneath him, your back pressed up against the scrunched fabric of the picnic blanket. ushijima clings to your body. you can feel him humping your bulge against your soft ass, your clothed cunt, your plush thighs… his fingers claw at the waistline of your pants, like he’s itching to tear your clothes off and dig right into you. but ever the gentleman, his thinly veiled restraint is kicking in.

this is your fault. you know it is. you had casually brought up how attractive he had looked and what a shame it was that he was so distant at times, that had he maybe been a regular neighbor of yours rather than a hybrid, you might have given him a shot.

he huffs through his nose. “you have no idea what you do to me. you’re killing me. i don’t- i don’t know if i can hold myself back anymore.”

your stomach flutters, and you can feel your inner walls tightening up. fuck, you think the heat might be getting to you. it’s like being physically overwhelmed by the bull has flipped a switch in your brain, and you can feel your body acting before your mind can. you always knew ushijima was attractive, and you knew toeing the line by flirting with him was never going to land you anywhere good but you couldn’t help yourself. he’s everything you could ever want in a man.

a low groan lodges itself in his throat as waves of pleasure shoot up his body. he shouldn’t be acting this way, but something in the back of his brain keeps egging him out, the onslaught of the early stages of his heat gripping his sanity. you look so small and so caught off guard, and ushijima thinks you look ravishing. you’d look adorable folded in half underneath him, getting your brains fucked out by his thick bull cock in the middle of a field, getting that tight hole of yours fucked full of his cum.

your scent fills his nose as he bows his head, burying his head into the crook of your neck. you’re sweaty and sticky, but every part of you feels so good. ushijima feels like his body has been set on fire, and his cock strains in his pants. it hurts. his dick throbs and twitches, desperate for your attention. whatever little friction he’s getting from more or less mounting you and dry humping you out in the open isn’t enough for him. he needs more, needs to feel more of your tiny body, needs to indulge in you until he’s had his fill.

“ushijima-,” you gasp out. he bucks his hips into you, and you cry out unexpectedly when he nudges up against your clit. a shockwave of pleasure jerks through you, and you arch your back into his chest. “ah- shit-”

“say you want me,” he rasps into your skin, his eyes fluttering shut as he tries to ground himself. his head is spinning, and all he can register is how good it feels to have your body pressed up against his. “tell me you want this too. otherwise- get away from me. run away from me. i’ll hurt you.”

your voice is like a hard lump in the back of your mouth, and you wrap your arms around him. his skin is scaldingly hot, almost feverish as his heat starts to run its course through his body. he trembles when you touch him, and he leans into you, hungry for your attention. your own body feels hot too, and you want him to have his way with you, breaching past the tension building up between the two of you. your own selfish intentions aside, if it provides any kind of physical relief to him, that’s more than enough of a reason to let him have you.

“it’s- it’s okay,” you breathe. your fingers trickle up his spine, and he gasps into your skin when your fingertips brush over the cowbell. you can feel his bulge twitching in between your legs, and you don’t want to linger too much on how you can feel yourself getting wet too. it doesn’t take a genius to feel how big the tent in his pants is, and you’re simultaneously anticipating and fearful of just how monstrous his bull cock might be. “you can have me. i want you- i want to make you feel good too.”

those are dangerous words. you can feel his grip on you tighten, and you shudder as he pulls you closer, basically thrusting up into your clothed crotch. you know you’re both going to be leaking messes when you finally take each others’ clothes off, but you can’t help it when it feels so good to feel his whole body weight crushing you like this as he tries to imitate the motions of fucking you.

“are you sure?” his voice is deep and heady and heavy, and it makes your cunt clench. your thoughts are slowly clouding over. your stream of consciousness is slowing down, getting replaced with a gnawing sensation deep in your gut, and you let out breath cries as you grind against him, working your hips in tandem with his needy thrusts. “i’ll hurt you- you’re a human, and i- i don’t know if you can take me.”

you don’t care about any of that. all you can feel is how hot the air is around the two of you and the heat prickling all over your body. “i don’t care about that. i want you. i want you, wakatoshi- i want you to touch me.”

he grits his teeth when you choke out his first name, and his cock pulses noticeably. you have a precarious grip on his mind, dominating every single one of his waking thoughts, consuming him wholly with just how much he wants you. but if you’re not denying him, he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep everything at bay.

you gasp as he tears your clothes off of you, and the shrill sound of his cowbell clanging desperately against his throat invades your ear. your shirt is quickly abandoned to the side, and your bra follows, tossed somewhere off into the grass. his hands are big as he gropes at your chest, calloused fingers playing with your pebbling nipples. you arch your back so that the softness of your tits fill out his hands better, and he moans as he grinds up against whatever he can reach. sparks of pleasure explode deep in his belly, and you shudder as he draws his hands down your chest and stomach.

“i’m going to ruin you,” he breathes. you’re not sure if it’s something he says as a promise or out of worry, but you don’t care. you want him, you want him to ruin you. you guide his hands down to your pants, and you fumble with getting the zipper down as he yanks the garment off of your legs. 

ushijima thinks his heart is going to stop when he sees your nearly bare body, the expanses of your skin that existed only in his imagination now coming to life in front of him. his cock is so hard it almost hurts, and he wants nothing more than to tear your panties off and shove his entire length into you and thrust and thrust until the heat inside of his chest is gone. but he can’t and he won’t, not when he’s so viscerally aware of his shortcomings as a lover.

you watch him with wide eyes and your heart pounding inside of your chest as he wraps his fingers around the waistline of your panties. there’s a prominent wet spot in the seat from when he had grinded against you, a true animal in heat, and the thought of you being turned on as much as he is makes his mouth feel dry. your breath stalls when he drags them down slowly, past your thighs and down your knees, past your ankles until you’re left bare against the fabric of the picnic blanket, wetness dripping from your core. 

he can’t tear his eyes off of you.

his hands wrap around your knees, and you lay there placidly as he separates your legs to slot his head in between your thighs. a wave of shyness overcomes you when he just sits in between your legs and stares, his hot breath fanning against your glistening folds as he takes a moment to simply process everything happening to him. his favorite human, his dearly beloved farmer, naked and laid out bare for him in a way that he might have only seen in the midst of his most intense wet dreams… it’s almost too good for him to believe.

“ushijima, i-,” your voice gives out mid-phrase when his tongue darts out from in between his lips and swirls around your cunt. he’s careful and cautious at first, mostly pressing sticky kisses to your throbbing clit and licking up and down your slit slowly. he lets out a heavy exhale, similar to a moan, when your fingers thread through his thick hair, gripping at him to ground yourself.

“i’m… i’m going to make you feel good first,” he mumbles against your entrance. “prep you for me… make you feel good so that my cum takes better inside of you.”

you gasp, tugging at his hair. his tongue swirls around your clit, and he suckles at you, swallowing down your arousal as if it’s the sweetest thing he’s tasted. you might as well be—his cock is straining like crazy against his pants, but he’s more caught up in how good it feels to have you fluttering and coiling around on the tip of his tongue like this. you’re so good and so sweet, so patient with him as his tongue explores your most sensitive parts. 

everything about this was lewd, having a man going down on you in the middle of an open field where anyone could walk in and see you naked and moaning, but all you could focus on was the dull pangs of heat pulsing through your insides. he’s teasing your folds and circling your fluttering hole with his tongue so carefully, his ears perked for any sound you make. 

he laps at your slit with his whole tongue, playing with your clit with each greedy lick. your thighs shake around his head, your legs pressed open by his strong hands. he’s being sweet to you, but at the same time, you’re completely at his mercy on what he decides to do. 

“inside-,” you choke out, your voice so strained that you barely recognize yourself. “don’t just tease me outside, ushijima! put your tongue inside me too- feels so empty…”

you can feel his ears perk up when you whine for him, and you throw your head back with a whiny moan as he breaches your hole with the tip of his tongue. you might as well be a sugar cube dissolving inside of his mouth from how much you’re melting from the simplest of touches. what was it about him that made you act this way? you don’t get too long to think about it before he’s pumping his tongue in and out of you, searching desperately for that one sweet spot deep inside of you that’s sure to make you fall apart entirely.

you moan for him continually. pleasure dances all across your insides, and your walls keep coiling around him. ushijima savors the feeling, your soft gummy insides clinging to his tongue in search of any kind of stimulation. it’s a primal kind of feeling, having your bodies intertwined with one another out in the open, and ushijima likes the simplicity of it. he drools at how inviting your insides are, and his cock aches at the thought of finally plunging himself into you. he already knows that he’s going to basically fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until he’s slamming right up against your womb, making sure your body has no choice but to take his length and all of his cum as he mates you thoroughly.

“so good… you feel so good inside of me- ooh, you’re so deep-,” you grind your hips against his mouth, and he breathes hotly against you, matching your rhythm. he’s dreamt of your face all scrunched up in pleasure like this more times than he can count, and despite how awful he’s felt each and every time for thinking about his precious human farmer this way, he decides that he likes it. he likes the reality he has now, with you spread apart on his tongue, not caring for anything else in the world except for him.

“gonna make you cum-,” he breathes, darkly and firmly, determined not to let you go until he’s had his fill. “can you feel it? does it make you feel good? do you like it when my tongue is inside you?”

the warm weight that’s restless inside of you needs an out. your blood feels like it’s boiling, like you’re genuinely going to start running a fever with how much heat suffocates you both inwardly and outwardly. you nod feverishly, your nails scraping against the rough surface of his horns. you grip at them and his hair interchangeably, and it’s all you can do cling to him as he ups his intensity. his fingers pry into your flesh, hungry to taste more of you.

“oh fuck- ushijima- you can’t do both at the same time-!” your entire body tenses up when two of his fingers slide into you without any resistance, and his mouth latches onto your clit to suckle on the sensitive nub like he can’t get enough. he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, almost as if to really fully feel the sensation of your walls seizing up against his knuckles. 

“let me,” the bull breathes. your walls won’t quit fluttering and stretching out around his fingers, and whenever he spreads his fingers apart ever so slightly, you’re tensing up all around him and whining out so prettily. there’s so much blood rushing downwards to his crotch, and he knows he won’t be able to think straight for much longer. but he’s entranced by all the sweet reactions you’re giving him and he wants to keep egging you on this state, to memorize every detail until he’s sure you’ll continue to haunt him in his dreams. “you can take it. i know you can.”

you grit your teeth, helpless cries escaping from you as your pussy drinks in all of the new stimulation. he’s not giving you a break as he thrusts his fingers into you. he fingers you deep and slow, making sure you feel every part of him entering and exiting you. having your clit sucked like that isn’t helping you out either, and your stomach coils and unfurls, thrashing wildly inside of you as the arousal starts to make your brain go hazy.

“gonna cum, ushi- if you keep doing that, i’ll cum…!” you’re digging your fingers deep into his hair at this point, tugging wildly. he moans when he feels the stinging pain shoot down his spine. there’s nothing he wants to do more than to fuck his cock into you, but you can’t take him as you are right now. he has to work you open, get you used to taking his big fingers first, make sure he’s taking his time with you before he lets his selfishness get in the way.

“go ahead,” he pants against your inner thigh. “cum- cum for me.”

you think you’re going insane. your toes curl into the fabric of the picnic blanket, the once pristine material now warping and moving with how much the two of you are thrashing around. the heat building up inside of you is almost too much to take, and your vision is blurring over with tears. your walls won’t quit milking his fingers, clinging to his knuckles as if they don’t want him to leave you, like they should stay buried deep inside you so he can continue pressing his rough fingertips against that one spot that makes you swear you see stars. you’re pulsing around him so nicely, and your voice keeps rising in pitch, a telltale sign that you’re at your limit.

“there! right there-,” you swallow past all of your drool, “don’t stop- don’t stop, ushijima, i’m so close! i’m gonna cum, gonna cum all over your mouth- your fingers too- oh fuck, i can’t think! can’t think, can’t think, just need you inside me! i’m cumming- cumming…! gonna cum so hard…!”

he keeps the pace the way you like it best, the possessive twinge in his eyes savoring and enjoying the sight of your hips thrashing wildly. slick keeps leaking out of you, and he can’t wait to imagine how much more pleasure he’s going to be able to give you with his cock once this round is done. but for now, he keeps fucking you out on his thick fingers, listening to your pretty voice keening and crying out, pride swelling up inside of his broad chest at knowing that it’s him who’s finally getting you to fall apart.

“cumming-!!”

your vision gives out on you as pleasure crashes down on you. the world turns to white as you thrash uncontrollably in ushijima’s grasp, heat gushing from between your thighs as you cum with a loud cry. it’s hot, and every part of you feels sticky and warm. but even as you wail and writhe like a wounded animal, ushijima keeps going at it, determined to lap up every last drop of your orgasm. you think you’re going to suffocate to death with everything overwhelming your senses, your body pushed to its very limit with how greedy ushijima is. 

you don’t even get a moment's worth of reprieve to collect yourself. your folds are still sensitive and slick, your chest heaving as you struggle to put enough air into your lungs. your vision is blurry, and your entire body feels numb and heavy, your brain blown out and fuzzy from the electric tingles buzzing in your core. fuck, you didn’t think you could cum this hard from getting eaten out, but you have no strength as you simply lay on the blanket. ushijima watches you with a kind of morbid curiosity as he slides himself out from between your legs, seemingly satisfied with the first orgasm out of many he’s going to rip from you.

“ushi-,” you choke out as he grabs your thighs, and a lump lodges in the back of your throat as he carefully presses your knees to your chest. a weak whimper dies out in your mouth as your dripping cunt is exposed to him, and he swallows noticeably as he hastily yanks his pants down with one hand.

“...oh my god,” you breathe, your eyes widening to the size of saucers when you see ushijima’s cock for the first time. you had no doubt that he would be big and thick, like any bull would be, but seeing it bare with your own two eyes and thinking about how that monster of a dick is going to go inside you makes your body go limp with both shock and a sick sense of anticipation. “you’re going to kill me.”

“i’m not going to kill you,” he breathes. he guides you to hold your legs with your hands, the sight of you folded in half so obediently a blessing to the heat-stricken bull. you let out a high pitched whine as he smacks his length tentatively against your slick-soaked entrance, and your stomach lurches at the sheer weight of his cock. he’s big in every sense of the word, swollen and engorged like it’s been born to break your pussy in two, and you flinch every time his tip collides with your clit.

his tip is big and red, pre-cum leaking from it in a way you didn’t know was physically possible. you knew ushijima had been holding himself back for a while, but his self-restraint is practically a miracle now that you’ve seen just how aroused he is. you grit your teeth as he rocks his hips against yours, grinding his cock in between your pussy lips. he’s coating his length with your combined juices, and your body lurches when you can feel the pangs of heat bubbling up inside of your gut again. you shouldn’t get turned on this quickly again, but with the hybrid looming over you and caging you in between his broad chest and the ground, you can’t help but feel helpless and horny at the thought of him breeding you and fucking you to his heart’s content.

“this-,” he sounds strained, “-this is why i ate you out. made you cum. otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to take it.”

his gaze falls on your face, and you swear your heart stops when his eyes lock on yours. his gaze is always firm, head held high, a little steely, but now, there’s a hint of warmth that makes your heart squeeze. his cock prods at your hole, his cockhead nestled right at your fluttering entrance almost as if he’s asking for permission.

“look at me,” he tells you. the strain in his voice is sweet, and you want to taste the sweetness against your own mouth. “i want you to look at me while i put it in. can you do that for me?”

you nod wordlessly, and you suck a deep breath in through your nose. you do your best to relax your tense body the best you can, but a sharp inhale breaks through your thoughts when you can feel him breach your cunt. a high pitched sound curls in the back of your throat as he pushes himself in, and you can immediately feel the stretch. your smaller body is already struggling to take him in, and your walls are clamping down on his girth, the ache in your muscles spreading across your crotch to the lower part of your stomach. 

he’s trying to be so good for you, trying to be slow and gentle, but his mind nearly goes blank the instant he feels your velvety insides fluttering around him. he clenches his teeth. “fuck- ah- fuck-... i-i knew you’d be tight, but still- this is too much-”

“s-so big-,” you murmur, starstruck, struggling to keep your eye contact with him. he’s looking down at you as if he’s about to go mad, and you know he is. whatever minimal scrap of sanity left inside of his brain is hanging on by a thread, his animalistic instincts clawing and howling and screaming for the control he won’t give. 

inch by inch, bit by bit, you do your best to focus on your breathing until he bottoms out inside of you. you’re suddenly grateful that you got at least a round in as prep; otherwise you’d be suffocating on the sheer size of his bullcock by now. it feels like he’s deep in your belly, and you don’t need to look down to feel the bulge from him nestled inside of you.

“oh fuck-,” he groans. the veins on the side of his neck look like they’re about to pop. “it went in… the whole thing’s in. oh god- you’re so tight… and wet- i’ll go crazy…”

he laid on top of you, your breaths mingling with one another as you both soaked in the sensation. you can feel him buried so deep inside you, reaching places that nothing else would have been able to. masturbating or using toys had never gotten the same effect as him putting his cock in, and you swear you feel him inside your stomach, pressing against your diaphragm. your chest feels tight, and you’re growing light-headed as you cling to ushijima’s body.

“can i- can i move?” ushijima moans. “please- you’re squeezing around me so much already- i can barely take it-”

“go ahead… i’ll be okay,” you reply. you moan when you feel him shift his hips, drawing them back. his cock rubs against your sensitive walls as he pulls out before slowly sinking his cock back into your hole, and the slow friction makes the sparks welling up inside of your gut go crazy. he’s moving so carefully, like he’s savoring every second of having your pussy wrapped around his cock. 

it feels good. the stretch is getting to your head, and your body feels so much more sensitive than earlier. you blame your previous orgasm. his muscled thighs make contact with the underside of yours as he rocks his hips, fucking his cock in and out of you. you can feel him growing more and more bolder with each slow pump of his dick, your cunt enthusiastically suck him in and try to guide him towards the entrance of your womb. 

you like whatever this fuzzy feeling consuming you is. you’re sure this is how ushijima wanted you from the very beginning as you start to lose your grip on reality. all you want to think about is the cock stretching you out, his heavy balls slapping noisily against the curve of your ass. there’s a slight ache in your hips and legs from being folded in half, but the angle at which he’s rutting against you makes you swear you see stars. he’s not letting a single stroke go to waste, grunting under his breath. 

all that’s on his mind is keeping you like this. submissive and sweet, built to take all of his stifling affections, ushijima thinks that this might be the perfect reward for how long he’s waited and waited. edging himself to the thought of taking his human farmer wasn’t enough for him, and even though he knew that you were no hybrid, the right thing just wasn’t going to satisfy him. and now that he’s had a taste of your sweet cunt, he doesn’t think he can go back.

“faster-,” you mewl, your legs shaking. “you’re so deep inside of me, so big- so good- ooh, i can feel so much of you-”

the sound of your slurred voice, all fucked out and weak, makes him grit his teeth. he snaps his hips a bit harder into you, and you recoil back into the picnic blanket. pleasure slams and rattles against the inside of your skull, and you can hear the wet sounds of your cunt squelching around him. the two of you are being so ridiculously greedy, absolutely lost in the physical bliss of devouring each others’ bodies. ushijima’s fucking into you faster now, his cockhead bullying your deepest parts with each sharp plow.

you’re crying out incoherently, sobbing out broken moans each time he fucks into you. you can tell he’s doing his best for you, focusing more on your pleasure despite how much more he’s craved this. you feel heavenly wrapped this snugly around him, your juices leaking all around his swollen length. he doesn’t ever want to go back to jerking off using his hand now that he’s gotten you, and just feeling your smaller body tremble and having your sweet scent invade his senses makes him almost wonder if he’s dreaming. 

“ushi- ushijima-,” you cry out to him. “oh, fuck, it feels so good! feels so good to have you inside me. waka- wakatoshi, please…!”

his hips stutter when you blurt out his first name. it’s like he doesn’t know how to process it, and he stops dead in his tracks. “you… you said my name.”

you whine loudly when he stops moving, the incessant hunger in your womb coming back with a fury. you want him to go back to fucking you, to bullying you with that stupidly huge cock of his. you grind your hips up towards him, desperately trying to stuff more of him inside you. “wakatoshi, please-! need more- need more of you, waka-”

he grits his teeth, and without another warning, he snaps his hips and fucks his whole cock straight into you. your words immediately die out on your tongue, and your mind goes completely blank as your body struggles just to process the feeling of his entire length getting stuffed up your tiny cunt. you can’t even breathe as he starts fucking into you roughly, slamming his hips down against yours, forcing you into a brutal mating press as he moves in and out, tip to base, leaving you with no choice but to take him. 

whatever frayed restraint inside of him has snapped.

“you-,” he hisses. you’ve let go of your legs, and yet him being on top of you keeps you folded perfectly in half. you flail and struggle to grab onto whatever you can to anchor yourself, but he keeps plowing into you, like he’s determined to break your poor pussy. “you can’t just do that- you’re dangerous to me. i’m dangerous- you can’t just do things like that-!”

“sooo- so rough-!” is all you manage to cry out. pleasure and heat boils inside of your body, and your brain can’t seem to process all of the stimulation being shoved onto you. all you can manage to do right now is to get fucked out on his cock, the tightness building up inside of your womb now so big and restless that you think you can feel it in the back of your throat. 

you’re really not going to last like this. not when he’s being so brutal, so possessive, so merciless with the way he’s fucking you. like a switch has been flipped in his brain, he’s gone from emulating the gestures of a touch starved lover to a true animal in heat. 

“wanted to do this to you so fucking badly-,” the bull mutters under his breath. there’s a brutal thrust after each one of his pointed words. he looks down at you as if he’s going to eat you whole, and your pussy flutters at the sudden shift in his demeanor. “but you had no clue. no clue about the monster you made. everything i am right now- it’s all you. it’s all your fault.”

he’s rambling. you know that he’s not thinking straight right now, but god, you’d be damned if you said that it didn’t do something to you too. he was mating you so thoroughly and so roughly, like he was going to die if he spent even a second away from your body. he’s ravenous, slamming his hips down into you, trying to force as much of his cock into your tiny hole. you think you’re going to die right there, drowning in the inhuman amounts of pleasure threatening to shred your body to pieces, right there underneath ushjima and his huge form, succumbing entirely to whatever madness he’s transferring onto you.

“waka, you’re so deep-,” you moan lewdly. you can feel your wet slick dripping everywhere, your lower lips and your inner thighs drenched. he’s sliding in and out of you so quickly, and your pussy can’t even offer much resistance just from how wet you are. “you’re gonna break me- gonna break my pussy- you’re too big!”

“you can take it,” he mutters under his breath. his breathing is irregular, soaking in as much of your scent as he can. he feels dirty, like a true animal that can’t seem to resist the most base of his instincts, like he’s tainting you by touching you this relentlessly, but he thinks he’s going to die unless he gets to have you like this. his cock hurts too much, his balls threatening to spill into you with each sharp thrust into your warm and welcoming hole. he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to keep up this long with him, especially when he’s being so unreasonably greedy, but he needs to keep going like this. “you’re already taking it.”

he’s pounding into you like he’s determined to shatter you. it’s good, good in a way that you know you’re never going to recover from. you know you’re done for, that you’re going to get hooked on whatever pleasure is taking your body captive as is, that you’re going to end up no better than he is in the climax of his heat. you can already envision it in your head, the vision of you crawling to him in the dead of the night to beg him to fuck you, no human lover enough to satisfy you now that both of you have crossed the point of no return.

but morals are secondary. he’s smitten with you. with every part of you. even outside of your body, ushijima has pined after you for longer than he can fathom. the cowbell ringing incessantly around his neck is proof to him of that.

“gonna fuck so deep into you. gonna make you take everything i give you.” the bull grips at your body. “gonna cum right into your pussy, into your womb. that way everyone’s gonna know what we did today. that i’m not letting anyone else take you away from me. that i’m yours. you- you don’t mind any of that, do you?”

you shake your head side to side. you don’t care anymore at this point. all that matters is how good it feels to have his dick buried inside of you, stretching your gummy walls out until your vision blurs. your skin prickles with sweat and skin, drunk on the feeling of him on top of you and pinning you down into the grass. it’s equal parts intimate as it is ferocious, and you want it. you want him to cum deep inside of you, to fill your womb and pussy up, to leave you cock-drunk and helpless to soak in all of his monstrosity.

he grits his teeth. your kind voice makes his brain go fuzzy too quickly, and his balls keep tightening up against the curve of your soft ass. he’s not going to last much longer, not when you keep squeezing him. you’ve already been so much more than he could imagine, even better than whatever lewd fantasies he would play out in his head all alone, and he’s coming undone. his abs tighten with each thrust, his rigid pace starting to grow sloppy as he shoves himself into you. 

he wants to cum so badly, so so badly inside of you. it’s all he wants right now, and you’d be so good for him. you’d let him empty his load, let him drench your insides white and stuff your womb, whine about how full you feel as the excess leaks out of you, coating the outside of your sweet hole the same shade of white as your insides. he’d get entranced at the sight, fully intoxicated at the thought of claiming you so wholly from the inside out.

he grunts, unable to form full words. you feel so tight and so good around him, milking his cock incessantly. it’s enough to make him think you want it just as much, that your pussy also wants to cum, that you were made to take his cock like this and carry his cum inside of you. what a good human you were, to endure all of this so gracefully, and it’s just too much for his heat-stricken mind to fully comprehend.

“cum inside me-,” your voice breaks through his muddled mind, “-i want it! cum inside me, wakatoshi! want it- i want your cum!”

you can see his jaw visibly tighten, and his cock twitches and throbs inside of you. your cunt unconsciously clamps up around him, and you let out a pathetic sob when he angles his hips and fucks hard into you. your gut won’t stop writhing painfully, your oncoming orgasm like a chokehold on your consciousness. it’s all you can think about, cumming with ushijima, and you think you might actually pass out if you don’t get it soon. 

the effect you have on him is deadly. he pulses inside of you, slamming straight into what feels like your cervix. you can feel the desperation coming off of him in waves, and you wonder how he’s managed to survive this long holding everything back. maybe this act of frenzied heat was for the better, maybe this could teach both of you how to be more honest. but all of that is secondary to the physical reality, the pangs of arousal and need consuming you from the inside out, your brain a captive to the pleasure making all of your limbs go limp.

“you said- you said you want it, yeah?” his voice is uncannily soft. the afternoon sun casts a dreamy glow on him, making him almost golden as he looms over you. “take it- take it all… i won’t let anyone else have you. someone like you- you’re only for me.”

your eyes meet his for a fleeting second, and using whatever little strength left inside of you, you smile up at the bull. “i’m only for you.”

his chest heaves, and his hips stutter. you cry out when he slams harshly into you, burying his whole length into you. your insides clamp down on him, the sudden intrusion making you coil around him deliciously. the friction has your mind up in outer space, numb to the world except for the heat burning all around. ushijima lets out a deep cry, wanting to stay buried deep inside of you, and you can barely register the shift in his weight before you feel him cumming inside of you.

it’s hot and heavy, and it burns. the warmth sears you from the inside out, flooding every part of your already overwhelmed pussy. you already knew that sex with a hybrid would be far from normal, but you didn’t account for the sheer amount of cum pumping into you. his dick keeps pulsing inside of you, releasing what feels like unending spurts of virile semen straight into your womb. you feel it seeping into you, filling you up until you think you’re about to burst. it’s sticky and runny like thick milk, and you can feel it starting to ooze out of your plugged hole and down your thighs. 

ushijima grits his teeth. you can feel the pressure mounting in your belly, and when he shifts, something inside of you breaks open like a dam too. you blame the cum stuffed into your cunt, but you can’t linger on the thought too long before you find yourself cumming from being creampied. 

“wakatoshi-!” you throw your head back, and something wet gushes everywhere. you can’t tell if it’s his cum, your cum, or a mix of both. it’s probably the latter, but that’s not what matters to you. your vision spins on an axis, and everything seems to dissolve into pure nothingness. you feel so full, your stream of consciousness blown out and tossed to the wind, savoring the sheer ecstasy of having a big cock to stretch your insatiable cunt out and enough cum to breed you into a submissive mate. it’s perfection, and you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the literal bliss coursing through your veins.

the two of you are drunk on each others’ bodies. ushjima doesn’t show any sign of wanting to get off of you, staying where he is, keeping you folded underneath him. it hurts to keep his cock shoved into you as it starts to soften, but he’s willing to endure it. he needs to see as much of his sticky cum stuffed into your pussy, make sure it takes inside of you so that all of his physical efforts don’t go to waste. you’re starting to feel the strain in your muscles, the ache that’s settled in all of them long ago, but much like him, you don’t want to do anything about it. 

your mind’s buzzing like it’s been lit on fire, like the flame refuses to die. the summer heat that encapsulates both of you is unbearable as it is almost comforting, smothering in the way that he must have wanted for longer than you could imagine. you want to melt away in it, and you let him hold you here, tangled in one another’s limbs out in the middle of what would otherwise be a pristine meadow.

“you- you did well, but-,” he manages to get out, “stay with me here for a little longer…”

“mmm. yeah-,” you reply softly. you maneuver yourself, and ushijima shifts so that you can finally put your legs back down properly. the relief that shoots through you is like a gulp of fresh air, but you’re more focused on clinging to the man laying on top of you. chest to chest, his strong heartbeat began to match up to yours. his breathing was rhythmic and welcoming, and you let your eyes flutter shut, simply basking in his presence.

you felt sticky and spent, undoubtedly tuckered out from everything he had put you through, but you would gladly do it again. would this be what they called affection? a kind of special connection? the exact label wouldn’t matter as long as the two of you were happy and satisfied with one another, and you preferred focusing on things like that anyway. 

…

…

…

it’s hot.

you wake up to a cozy dim room, and the first that hits you immediately is the ache that’s spread all over your body. you wince, the blanket that you didn’t even realize was draped over you falling into your lap, as you slowly try to maneuver yourself into a semblance of a seated position. grogginess clings to your senses like thick honey, but you fight through it to make heads or tails of where you ended up.

the smell of clean hay and cinnamon is your first clue, and the next follows shortly after. 

“are you awake? you were out for a while. do you need to go to the hospital?”

you peek up to see a familiar but worried face peering down at you. ushijima extends you a water bottle, and only then do you also realize that you’re absolutely parched. you give him a grateful nod as you take the drink from in, downing half of the bottle in thirsty gulps before you pull away to haphazardly wipe at your mouth.

“just a little sore and a little tired. nothing i haven’t dealt with before. it doesn’t hurt or anything, so a few days of good rest should do the trick.” some of your questions seem to answer themselves. you recognize the inside of ushijima’s abode and the little ways in which he’s made the place a home. you must have fallen asleep from exhaustion not too long after, and ushijima must have carried you back and let you rest in what looked like his bed. 

“you should have something to eat before i give you some painkillers.” he extends a hand towards you. his voice is demure and gentle, like he’s scared that you’ll run off if he approaches you too quickly. “do you think you can walk? or should i carry you? it’s pretty late out, but i prepped a few quick bites for you to have whenever you woke up. it’s dark, so you can stay over for the night.”

he pauses before sheepishly looking away. even through the dimness of his room, you can make out the shy glimmer in his eyes and his nervous body language, and it’s endearing to know that even after plowing into you like his life depended on it, his feelings for you ran much deeper than a quick fix for his heat. there’s a boyish pink tint to his cheeks that’s unlike any of his usual stoic demeanor that you’re used to from him, but you don’t dislike it. if anything, it makes you like him even more, wanting to see more of this romantic side of him.

your hand slides silently into his, and the cowbell around his throat clinks melodically as he helps you up. he slides a gentle hand around your waist as he guides you towards another room of his house, where, true to his word, a board with fruits, bread, jam, and what looks like a bowl of soup awaits you. your stomach rumbles at the sight and the scent of food, and you’re itching to dig in by the time you’re situated at the table.

you’re not sure what to make of the whole thing as you eat, empty chatter filling the air in between your bites. but it’s the kind of spontaneous tension that you like, one where ushijima can’t quite look you in the eye, where his blush only deepens every time you call him in that siren-like voice of yours, where sharing a meal feels like healing for the soul as much as it is nourishment for the body. you’re still processing everything that went down this afternoon, and you’re sure you’re going to be chatting with ushijima deep into the night to decide where to take things from here. but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t feel a surge of excitement gnawing with bated breath inside of your stomach, like you’re a younger version of yourself giggling over a school crush and unable to go to sleep.

summer has always been a fleeting time for you. filled with life awakening and the earth extending herself into her finest majesty, you were more than aware of everyone else how temporary this summer heat was, and yet, there was something comforting in its cyclicality, in knowing that the summer would always return year after year with its stifling heat and dazzling sun. 

you hope you can see many more summers with ushijima. you’ve shared many before with him, but this is the first time that the heat has brought you closer, in more ways than one. you hope that the summers will turn into autumns with him and that those autumns will turn into winters and that the winters too will turn into springs to repeat the seasons over and over again. the sweetness that lingers in the air between you and him, the human and the hybrid, farmer and bull, feels inexplicable. and you’re sure it is—you doubt that there are enough words in the universe to properly decipher the complexities he’s plunged you into, but if it’s for him, you’d happily delve into the unforgiving waves. 

isn’t that the whole point of love?

as summer continues to close in, the heat wafting throughout the expanse of the night, you bring yourself closer to ushijima. he guides you carefully back into his bed, and you motion for him to join you. he hesitates for a second, but the way you grab onto his wrist makes him acquiesce. before you know it, you’re pressed happily against his broad chest. his strong arms are wrapped firmly around you, pulling you close to him and keeping you safe from whatever night terrors might rest underneath. but you have nothing to fear, not when you’re this close to him, savoring his embrace, his existence, his warmth.

it’s hot, and you like it.

author's note: happy hybrid tuesday to the house! i had a lot of fun writing this, and truth be told, this fic ended up a lot longer than i had anticipated. double than what i had planned on writing, if i'm being completely transparent. but i think the result was worth every second of it, and it reminded me of how much i love working with hybrid aus! now that this exchange is done, i'm going to start finishing up the last of the requests in my inbox and get ready for kinktober.

i'm also going to start working full-time soon, so the rate at which i'm going to be writing might slow down drastically. thank you so much for all of your patience and support with the blog so far, and thank you even more for reading this far!

if you enjoyed my writing and would like to show appreciation, you can do so by donating to help shahed muhammed and her family evacuate gaza. time is running out for her family, so if you ever had any thoughts about tipping or commissioning me, please extend that generosity to those in need.

[grismavessel]

Vessel AU: Pecharunt's Rot

The vessel au is about powerful legendary/mythical pokemon taking up human hosts/confidants e.i like Resirham and Zekrom would want hosts that embody their ideals for comfort and human connection or e.i like Arceus needing a helping hand in the form of turning someone into a puppet and guiding them along. Could be malicious, could be co-habitable and comfortable.

Kieran draws the short end of the stick.

Kieran finds Pecharunt before returning to the blueberry academy in Unova and strikes a deal. A devil's bargain.

Kieran is given strength and more willpower to become the best and strongest trainer, in turn, Pecharunt in brought to new lands and hitches a ride with Kieran.

Pecharunt isn't strong enough to just dip in and out of physical reality, it's no legendary, but it takes the form of Kieran's hair band and a 'scarf' instead to stay close.

While Kieran trains to become the champion, Pecharunt spread's the toxic chain to the pokemon in the terrarium. It corrupts the pokemon and infects the pokemon with malice and poison. The pokemon get stronger, but they also get weaker.

So does Kieran. He sleeps less, eats less, he's so unlike himself that Carmine can't even recognize her little brother anymore.

Unbeknownst to both Kieran and Pecharunt, their bond and traits are so similar, they blend into one another. Fusing into an amalgamation of toxic mentality of winning and never accepting losing, of take take take until they're nothing left.

Kieran starts to look stranger, act stranger.

(Also I threw in Volo because the main story of the vessel au has him getting no attention whatsoever from any cool possessive dieties so I had to give him more L's)

(feel free to use the design with credit!)

[captain-joongz]

On the wind of morning; Dragonheart ch.1

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

Genre: dragon rider AU, high fantasy, soulmate adjacent, slight enemies to lovers (if you squint), angst, fluff and humour, eventual smut

Chapter summary: The capital is as unwelcoming as ever, father as disappointed as one can be and the new unit dynamics are challenging, but you finally meet your dragon.

Word count: 22.1k

Warnings: some bad family dynamics, toxic father shenanigans, some displays of slavery, talks of slavery, there's a pov switch near the end so watch out for that, otherwise not much

Series masterlist | Next part | Lore | Dictionary

A/N: here comes the first chapter!! i hope it meets the expectations and you enjoy yourself while reading! don't be shy, tell me what you think and how you like it! <3 PS: the words that are underlined are linked to chapter notes with explanations and a dictionary ;) they're a little messy atm but i'm trying to find a way to make it easier

I disliked the royal castle. It was a dark hulking mass of stone that blocked out all the sunlight and drained all warmth from everything and everyone inside. It casted a massive shadow over its surroundings, and you were never free of the feelings of oppressiveness as soon as you were in its vicinity.

The moment you stepped in, you shivered and with every passing second you’d be colder and bitterer, sitting in a dark hallway feeling your fingers slowly freeze while the silence crushed you from all sides. The atmosphere was always sombre and tinged with the sour note of fear, you could see it in the way no one dared to speak, no one felt like smiling and all the servants were walking briskly with their heads down.

I disliked the castle, and I hated staying in it.

While of course, it was sitting on a big black rock by one of the rockiest and coldest shores in the empire, and the weather often reflected that with harsh winds and heavy rains; but the worst were the occupants, who managed to be colder and more inhospitable than the heavens themselves. They were the ones who made the structure so unwelcoming, who made you feel uncomfortable and who enjoyed belittling others until no one laughed unless it was at someone else’s expense. It was a hard world of ruthlessness and survival, but it was us who made all the beasts and the prey.

I disliked the castle, but I hated the people within even more.

You could almost taste all the blood and suffering soaked into these thick stone walls, the centuries of atrocities that took place inside looming over you and constricting your lungs, making you fight for every breath of stale joyless air.

But with my father being needed here so often, I couldn’t escape it no matter how much I wanted that. And now finally earning my acceptance between the elite ranks, I would be spending even more time here, would have to come to terms with moving onto the castle grounds, into the secluded barracks away in the farther corner of the royal training grounds.

I had grown up far away from the capital city. When I was born, it was still at the old house in the north, where there were just as many plains and meadows as there were mountains, and the summers were pleasant and warm and winters freezing and cruel.

Those were our lands and our estate, gifted to my great great-grandfather for his achievements in battles against the northern invasion, as he was considered a well respected general close to the emperor – and that’s where our family legacy began. We have always been a military family, but since then the Kang generals have always stayed as close to the royal family as possible, climbing the ranks and sticking their claws in deep.

And as fief lords, our patriarchs have never been particularly benevolent either, which might be a reason for why they got along with the nobles so well. The cruelty and coldness ran in their veins, just like all the powerful men that shared between each other the same arrogance and feelings of superiority, supporting each other in their worldviews and their own dominance.

It all was very embarrassing to witness – the pride of old men strutting around like peacocks and preening under each other’s compliments of their evildoing.

And my father was one of them.

He was one of the three generals closest to the throne, one of the right-hand men and a monster, much like the man with the crown himself.  I scoffed at the image of him in my head – the pompous ass that thought he was infallible and carried himself like he was god, ruled his fief and his family with a cruel unforgiving hand and expected infallible loyalty and subservience of his children.

All of the men that were currently sitting in the room next to me, holding a meeting and discussing war, they were all cut from the same cloth. Power hungry, back-stabbing. And they wouldn’t hesitate to devour each other alive if the opportunity rose no matter how much they pretended to be allies.

Footsteps down the hall drew my attention and I looked up from my miserable little corner by the massive dark double door to see a small group of knights walk in. They crossed the hall in several quick strides and soon were knocking on the door by my left, giving me the opportunity to observe them for a moment.

They were the kingsguard, the white tiger insignia embroidered on their black and white uniforms giving their position away. It wasn’t that unusual seeing big clumps of the soldiers running around the castle, as the emperor was extremely paranoid about his safety, but these men seemed to be escorting someone else.

In the middle of the group there stood a beautiful tall man, elegant and lean with long silvery white hair. He didn’t even have to turn towards me for me to know he was a dragon, but when he did and I saw those cold steely eyes with vertical slit pupils, centuries of wisdom and pain reflecting through them, I knew for sure he was one of the sovereign’s own.

I nodded at him solemnly in sympathy, offering him at least a little decency, but the dragon just regarded me expressionlessly before turning forward again and waiting for the order to step in. I turned back to lean into my chair to give him peace, and only listened to the creak and shuffle of the opening door and the thunder of iron clad feet. Then the door slammed shut again and I was once more left alone in the hall.

This time it didn’t take long though, only a few minutes later the door opened once more, and this time stayed opened. With a long deep breath, I stood up and made my way in. I saw other young hopefuls slowly trickle in, filling in the counsel room and finding their way to their benefactor’s sides.

While the counsel is in a meeting, no one else is allowed inside, but after they are dismissed, usually there is some socialising and many of these men take the opportunity to flaunt their children or disciples. It’s all very boring and humiliating for the younglings involved, being paraded like a piece of meat or a trained monkey, but it was all to give these men face – the only thing they really cared about. Especially when it came to their children.

“Y/N, stop with the dilly-dallying!” a thunderous voice sounded from my right. It was the kind that demanded respect and attention, and the man knew very well how to use his aura to intimidate and break people into obedience. After all, confidence was half of the trick, I thought bitterly.

Taking a second to right my uniform, I steeled myself and turned, coming face to face with my father. His face was in that grimace that I’ve already come to know meant he was very close to getting angry because he thought my behaviour to be humiliating to him. I fought the scoff off of my face and walked over with confident strides.

My brother was already standing by our father’s side, face an unreadable mask and back as straight as a rod, only his eyes shooting subtle warnings my way. Great, that meant that the general was already in a bad mood from the meeting, and I was bound to lose no matter what I did.

As soon as I made it over to them, a hand clasped onto my shoulder in an iron grip and wrangled me to father’s side, as his face melted into an aggressively polite grimace, his smile turning almost shark-like.

“Gentlemen, I believe you haven’t been introduced to my daughter officially yet,” he started towards three men of similar age as my father, “she has just entered the Academy.” I sighed internally at the way their smiles turned sharp, sensing the weak spot in my father’s impeccable armour.

You see, I was somewhat of a disappointment to him. Well, I’ve been for a really long time, but back then it was a private affair. Now he had to face the ridicule in public, as I was a little bit of a late bloomer.

“Oh?” one of the men perked up, mean smile playing on his lips as he looked me over with condescension, “Congratulations, General Kang. What unit is she with?” Sensing the game the man was playing, I felt my father’s grip tighten until it was painful, constricting the movement of my wrist.

I winced, hoping I was able to keep the hurt expression off of my face, but nobody was really watching me anyway. Everyone was focused on the general, waiting with bated breath for his answer. The sounds of chatter from the room around us flowed freely around the tense atmosphere of our little corner, making the silence sound even louder.

Then he turned to me, stormy dark eyes signalling me that this was my battle to win. I forced my face into a similar polite smile, feeling kind of rusty at pandering to men I didn’t care about and hoping people couldn’t see how much I despised being here.

“I am with the Qinglong unit,” the answer finally fell out of my lips, my voice slightly weak and scratchy after sitting in silence for such a long time and I cleared my throat, embarrassed. The several sets of eyes jumped to me for a second, before redirecting to my father again.

“Ah, the dragon riders,” a different man stated, and I couldn’t tell from his voice whether he was impressed or not, which very obviously ruffled my father’s feathers. This was one of the few things he could boast about when it came to me, he’ll be damned if others didn’t recognise that.

“Yes, she will be attending a banquet very soon,” he supplied quickly, grip still strong on my arm and keeping me in place when I started nervously fidgeting. I looked to my brother, but he stood there without a single care for the conversation, eyes trained somewhere else in the room. Before I could follow his gaze, I was pulled back.

“Well, that is incredible,” the first man spoke again, the smirk still plastered on his face, “You must be so proud, you’ll surely award your daughter well with her 22nd birthday coming this year.” There were some snickers around and I knew we were in for something. This here was the killing point.

As many young people in this empire, I entered the military with my 16th birthday, which was the earliest one could start training at a base. While for me it was inevitable with the nature of our family, many other people chose to join just for the basic reason of needing food and shelter and soldiering was one of the easiest and surest ways to earn a stable keep for yourself and your family, so the input of fresh blood into the system was never-ending. The empire fought many wars and never had enough of willing knights, so entering the military was also very enthusiastically encouraged, leaving behind generations of mourning parents and social problems.

And yes, there were many opportunities for a knight to rise in ranks without ever stepping foot off of their mother base, they could climb quite high between the regional officials. But only a few dozens ever made it to the true top – and the only way there was through the Academy, situated in the capital and each year accepting only a handful of lucky knights.

There were several elite units, amongst which were the kingsguard and dragon riders, or the shadows as they were known – spies. Those who made it into this room were only the ones that went through there.

And the earliest age you could enlist into the Academy was 22. My brother was 27, therefore he’s been training there for 5 years now, which gained him quite the recognition in these circles (enough to allow him to listen in to these council meetings to learn). He of course made in on the first try, which was enough to not absolutely embarrass our father. Something, I wasn’t able to achieve.

The Qinglong unit, or as it was colloquially known as the horns, was one of the more elite and exclusive ones, harder to enter and harder to stay, just like shadows were, but that wasn’t something our father was interested in hearing.

And I failed in enlisting. Twice. I was now slightly over 24 years old, still young and still fully capable of making a name for myself, but not good enough to make my father proud to be associated with me.

As the highest standing general and one of the closest men to the emperor himself, he couldn’t afford to have children that didn’t succeed in everything on their first try. And of course, once the other elites caught the wind of this, it became a constant point of mockery for him. The only flaw in this man’s otherwise perfect life.

Which is why he was currently shooting daggers in my directions, the hateful stare burning into the side of my face as the question of my age was brought up. Once again, he made it clear that this was my mess to clean up, so I took a deep breath and turned back to the three men.

“Well… I uh- I have actually been training at the mother base for two additional years,” I stuttered out, trying to ignore my father’s embarrassed angry face. It was the nicest way to say that I wasn’t accepted two years in a row, but it still stung his pride, especially when the others started smirking.

One of them soon after launched into a story of how his daughter was actually accepted while she was still 20 years old, because they just had to make an exception for her, which then prompted all the others to share their own stories of success and talent coming from their protégées. It was absolutely disgusting, and I felt my father fuming next to me the whole time, in my mind begging the men to stop as I will have to face the consequences of his anger once home.

The jealousy and envy ran so thick that even the slightest sight of imperfection was shamelessly mocked and inspected over and over again, as everyone latched on the one thing they could feel better at than a general that climbed far higher than they could ever hope for. That’s why my father’s embarrassed anger burned even more – I knew he blamed me for this behaviour, since if I hadn’t failed, he wouldn’t have to face these things – he’d stay at the top, untouchable.

I silently swallowed, no longer daring to speak, knowing it would make the aftermath of my official introduction into high society less heavy.

The rest of the afternoon was painful and dragged on as I was forced to stay by my father’s side and listen to the mindless chatter and the occasional bragging about my brother. The general ignored me after the initial conversation and tried his best to pretend I wasn’t there, immediately derailing any enquiries that were raised about me and changing the topic before anyone could find the opportunity to make him admit my shortcomings again.

It didn’t particularly hurt, and it wasn’t especially punishing; I was used to such reception from the man, but it was painfully awkward and I wasn’t allowed to leave.

Instead I focused on catching glimpses of the silver haired dragon and the man whose side he similarly wasn’t allowed to leave. In contrast to his companion, he was clad all in gold, his robes heavily embroidered with leaves and other floral motifs, hands clasped elegantly in front of his stomach as he conversed with the crowd that was formed around him. His hair burned with a golden glow, but that might have been partly due to the crown sitting high on his head, adorned with blood red rubies. He was young, just two or three years older than my brother, freshly appointed but just as cruel (if not more) as his recently deceased father. You could see it in the lines of his face, in the cold glint in his eyes, the arrogance written into his every gesture and the permanent slip of a smirk.

Just from seeing him I knew he wasn’t a person worth knowing. How lovely that he was the one that sat on our throne.

The dragon by his side looked on with a practiced vacant glaze over his eyes, corners of his mouth weighted down by shadows only he knew of and carried in his heart and soul. My eyes slipped to his neck where a tattoo sat. It was in a spot that would always be visible, no matter how hard you tried, it was too high up to cover by clothing comfortably, forever showcasing who you were. A branding, a mark of slavery – a black chain wrapped around the neck. Every dragon bore it, some were even born with it. It was what bound them to the royal family and enforced their loyalty, what made them nothing more than unwilling puppets.

The man shifted and I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting him to see me looking at his mark. It was incredibly sensitive for dragons, and it brought them great shame when people ogled it, knowing this was what took away their freedom and bound them unconditionally to an uncaring master.

My heart bled for him, and it brought feelings of uneasiness about my own banquet that was about to take place in a few days. There I would choose my own dragon to bond with and start my formal training, but the queasiness about putting similar shackles on another being never quite ceased to bother me, no matter how much I knew my heart. I could treat the dragon as nice as possible; it wouldn’t erase the fact that formally we were a master and a slave.

Snippets of memories of my childhood resurfaced to my mind – a brown-haired man with warm eyes and a blinding smile, little slips of magic that endlessly fascinated me and all the lessons I’d learnt with him. The first dragon I ever knew. The kindest teacher I ever knew. The moments of warmth, love and laughter in the meadows and the forests up in the north.

A hand clasping my shoulder jolted me from my daydreaming and I flinched, a gasp leaving my mouth as I turned to the source of my sudden panic – coming face to face with my brother.

“Come, sister,” he said with voice neutral and a stone mask, the perfect picture of a promising young captain, “We’ve begun moving to the dining hall for dinner. You’re not paying attention again.”

I couldn’t even find it in me to be irritated by his slight jab, so I simply tightly pursed my lips shut and gave him a curt nod. He wrestled me into position so that he was leading me on his arm, trying to prevent any more delays and potentially adding to the long list of reasons why our father’s day was going as badly as it was. Bonus points for flashing our strong camaraderie to the lords.

“Don’t push him anymore, today’s been hard for him,” the young knight whispered lightly as we joined others slowly moving through the castle corridors. That had me ruffled a little, but I swallowed any remarks and nodded. Some days you truly did need to choose your battles and today was such day. And deep down I knew my brother was trying to look out for me in his own way, but that didn’t make it sting any less whenever he chided me in favour of our father.

“Yes, brother,” came my faux demure reply before I sealed my lips shut once more. That earned me a side-eye from the dark-haired man, who knew I was the furthest one could be from a quiet obedient lady, but chose not to call me out on the obvious piss-taking. He only sighed, shoulders sagging lightly, no doubt grateful I at least agreed with him so readily.

There’s been some dramatic scenes in my past as I reached my “rebellious phase” as father put it, but quickly that fire died within me when I realised it made everything only worse. As I grew, I chose silence as the survival method – causing scenes, screaming matches and throwing tantrums only served to humiliate us both; and perhaps I did have a little piece of my father in me – I also cared about my face.

Once I entered the base, it reflected on me badly amongst peers and instructors, giving me the reputation of a spoiled little brat. No matter the emotional turmoil I had been going through at that time, I knew it was time for a change of tactic – I needed respect to survive in the military and I would get it. Not for my father, but for myself.

Upon entering the room, I looked up and immediately found the eyes of the man himself trained on me, some new vague warning reflecting in them trying to keep me quiet and not causing any problems.

I sighed and resigned myself for the worst evening in recent history.

The reflection in my mirror stared back at me as I tried to push my clothes around to look as presentable as they could, the uniform still a little foreign to me. It was black silk cheollik with silver embroidery and it was tied at the side into an elegant bow. As tradition dictated, my father had given me a gift for the successful entry into Academy and it now adorned my waist – a deep red intricately woven string with a prosperity knot and grey jade pearls at the end – they jingled lightly at every nervous shift of my body.

This was the ceremonial uniform, as I still haven’t gotten my unit’s specific one – not until I bonded with a dragon – and it was brand new, it still smelt unworn and fit strangely over me, still adapting to my physique.

I would keep this one, but wear it rarely – usually there weren’t many instances when people wouldn’t take the chance to flaunt their unit, especially if they were at the top of the food chain, but I liked it. It was simple and elegant, and while the Qinglong also wore a similar one, it wasn’t embroidered and had azure details, and I found it a little too eye-catching.

Giving myself another look, I ended up sighing deeply, hands smoothing over the cold silk for the thousandth time in a last attempt to make it look a little more natural, thoughts finding their way towards the image of my mother. My sweet mother, who if she was here would tell me everything would be alright, that it looked perfect and I would do well. I imagined the feel of her gentle hands in my hair and on my shoulders, letting the memories of her soft voice soothe me.

The train of thought pierced my heart with pain that always manifested itself when I fell down this rabbit hole, my eyes naturally sliding towards the table which held all of her kind-hearted words in the form of letters she’s send over the years I haven’t seen her. But as always, everything I ever felt left a little aftertaste of rage towards my father, so I quickly abandoned this line of thought as well. Syphoning all the emotions out of me, I turned back into my numbed self that always surfaced around the family home.

Picking up the ceremonial dagger I finally set out, swiftly moving through the house in hopes of not bumping into the man himself. What rotten luck I had, as always.

The moment I stepped foot into the inner yard, there he was, sitting on the terrace by his study, sipping tea and watching me with his critical eyes. I could feel them sliding over me, making sure everything was in place. I said nothing, steadily returning his gaze while I wordlessly worked on the dagger strap, fashioning it under the red string.

“Remember what I told you last week, Y/N,” the general spoke, his face impassive even though there was fire underneath it all, and I could feel it all too well, “You are to make good impressions. I expect you to excel in this unit. Your brother is already being considered for corporal, do not stain this for him. Your unit has higher ranks too. One of them better be of my blood.”

I kept my mouth shut, just bowing to him in lieu of answer, but I was sure he could see the cocktail of anger and resentment brewing in my eyes. Choosing not to address that, he waved me off as if I was waiting for his permission to leave. Without a second glance I bowed again and promptly walked out the main gate.

If tonight went well, this was potentially one of the last times I walked out this specific house – our residence while we stayed in the capital city of Wuyun, close to the castle and royal grounds with the Academy in tow. If tonight went well, soon I’d find myself in the barracks, and I dreaded that day.

Unfortunately, family legacy tended to follow us all, no matter where we went and what we did. Children often went in their parents’ footsteps, making the Academy the breeding ground of resentment and generation long slights and fights. And there was a lot accumulated against the Kangs.

Back when my brother first joined, before he turned into the man he is today – while he still talked to me, he told me how disliked he was for the simple association. No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape his father’s shadow. I was next.

I would be able to walk over the distance from our house towards the main entrance of the castle blind-folded, and it passed quicker than I was ready for, suddenly finding myself standing at the foot of the entrance hall. Just at the end was the entryway towards the throne room, where the emperor accepted hearings, and I made sure to avoid it at the off chance that the man was present there currently.

It took me little time to arrive at the Eastern Grand Hall, but I found that most have already gathered there. It was a flurry of black and blue robes with the occasional splash of colour from other present lords, the hum of chatter and clinking of cutlery on metal plates that were typically used for military events, as if we were a bunch of animals that couldn’t be trusted with porcelain. I couldn’t spot anyone else wearing the plain Academy robes and I had no idea how many were accepted this year, so I slowly inserted myself into the frenzy hoping to blend in.

Turns out, it’s hard to do that when everyone either knows you’re the newbie or even realises which family you belong to, and I was getting a lot of looks as I leisurely walked along the table laid out with foods and drinks pretending not to notice. Some were mocking, some were apprehensive, and some were calculative, either way I had no interest in socialising.

It felt like ages have passed while I quietly ate by the end of the main table, gaze trained on a painting on the opposite wall, high above everybody’s head, but it wasn’t even time to officially begin the banquet yet. I was already feeling tired by all this, hoping this would be over with quickly so I could leave.

“I see that you’re getting some attention as well,” a cheery voice from my left shook me out of my reverie as I traced the golden lines of the knight portraiture for the thousandth time, and I turned somewhat dramatically, eyes open wide.

A woman stood there, it was hard to gauge her age, but she wore the same black and silver uniform, signalling she was also a first-year. Her pretty face was split by a friendly smile, eyes crinkling at the corners and her chestnut brown hair was shoved into a messy bun, clearly without a care for propriety. Her joy was quite disarming and before I even realised what I was doing, I was shaking her outstretched hand, still in shock. Her grip was strong, hands sure and decisive.

“Im Hwa-young, nice to meet you,” she said confidently, and I gaped at her slightly. Im was a disgraced surname, and no one who still had the curse of bearing it said it out loud anymore for fear of being recognised as a part of the Im clan after its fall and near annihilation. Whispers about treason and God’s punishment still followed those who survived, and many of the family disappeared from the public, hoping to escape the burden.

“I know, in the flesh,” Hwa-young continued with good spirits, obviously used to people’s reactions, “he was my uncle, before you ask.” I saw a flash of annoyance in her, something maybe like disappointment crossing her face as she began to withdraw her hand. In a split-second decision I grabbed it again, just as hard as she did before.

“Kang Y/N,” I gave her my name, making sure to look into her eyes, “and I wasn’t about to ask.” Hwa-young beamed at me, relief seeping into her as she sidled over to me almost as if we’ve known each other for years.

“Good to know I won’t be suffering here alone,” she remarked with a conspiratorial lilt, “I was afraid I’d be the only outcast in this unit.” I scoffed at her words, bringing a biscuit to my lips to mask my amusement from the others who were watching us with rapt interest.

“I never disappoint when it comes to disappointment,” there was something bitter creeping into my voice, tainting the joke with a smudge of reality, but Hwa-young was a good sport. She laughed lightly, head tilting back, looking so care-free it was helping me wind down.

Just as my shoulders begun to untense, a gong sounded through the Hall, tearing me away from the budding conversation. We both jolted and looked towards the head of the table where a greying man stood, his stance proud and strong. Light stubble decorated his wearied face, but it didn’t hide the handsomeness of an experienced warrior. I could feel the authority and respect radiating off of him, as everyone in the room turned to give him their undivided attention without needing a single word.

“Welcome novices,” he said simply, his voice was a little rough, but it held stead-fast and strong, booming through the silent hall, “to your first mating banquet. May your hunt be successful.” Clearly a man of few words, he quickly raised his glass and drank it in one go, a thunderous clap tearing through the space before the hungry faces turned to those who were the main interest of the evening.

I quickly scanned through the room, almost breaking my neck with how much I strained to see everywhere, hoping to catch a glimpse of other first-years. There was a young man standing alone by one of the entrances, and another group of two guardedly conversing closer to the head of the table, where the silver-haired man sat now completely uninterested in anything except for his food. To his right sat a dragoness, watching him with amusement and playing with her bright red hair, lips moving in what seemed to be teasing manner.

I watched their interaction for a moment longer, before Hwa-young turned my attention back to her, hand lightly grabbing onto my forearm as the woman leaned in closer to whisper: “The dragons have arrived.”

Snapping my head back towards the crowd, truly I could see newcomers – men and women with strong stances and shackles around their necks, faces either very carefully neutral or openly scowling at being paraded so openly. They mingled through the crowd, not really entertaining any looks or conversations.

“How many of us do you think there is?” I asked her, no longer being able to see the three students I discovered before. Hwa-young hummed, but ultimately shrugged her shoulders – I could feel the motion of them against my side more than I saw her.

“We should probably split up,” she whispered in the end, leaning away once more and slowly taking a step back, sending a cheeky smile my way, “See you around, fellow outcast.” With that she disappeared into the crowd so quickly I was actually concerned for several seconds before snapping out of it.

Left alone again, I had no other choice but to face the most challenging part of this event – socialising with my peers. All around me, people were conversing freely, some dragons even joining in their circles (most probably with their own bondeds) and the mood started rising again; though I could see some still watching me like vultures, curious who I’d choose to talk to.

For the moment, the most suitable strategy seemed to step back and observe, so I quickly manoeuvred myself through the throngs of people until I was leaning against a back wall. Right across me, across the whole hall, was the high-table where people tended to congregate more.

A flash of black and silver uniform alerted me to a novice that was conversing with a group of older students, but I couldn’t recognise whether it was one of the few I saw before or not. Slumping against the cold stone, I started searching through the crowds for someone that would be easy to approach.

I had no idea how much time I spent standing there, but at some point I started feeling the soreness and pain in my legs and feet crying for me to sit down. Shuffling slowly by the wall to the side towards chairs, my plan was suddenly thwarted by two men who made short of the distance with quick long strides, situating themselves into the corner.

Lucky bastards, the lot of them.

I stayed where I was, sighing tiredly and still undecided, when their conversation started up again.

“I hate that they call it a mating banquet,” the bigger of the two grumbled with a pout, “that’s clearly not what this is.” His head was shrouded in a very messy black bob haircut and small dark horns were protruding from his forehead, standing proudly with some strands tangled up around them and sticking out in weird angles. I held back a chuckle, bringing a glass with some sweet drink I’d managed to grab from the table to my lips quickly.

The other man sat more angled towards me and when he looked up, I had the best view in the entire room at his otherworldly beautiful face. I couldn’t hold back the gasp when I laid my eyes on him, the elegance and beauty he was exuding was truly almost too much for a mere mortal to handle. At first it seemed like his face actually glimmered, a slight shimmering catching my eyes constantly, before I realised his cheekbones and temples were covered in silvery blue scales. They blended into his skin perfectly and I found myself fighting a blush without him even having to look my way, that kind of effect he had on his surroundings.

Time to get it together, I told myself, slowly shuffling away and reprimanding myself internally for being a weirdo. And then he spoke.

“Bonding banquet doesn’t have such a ring to it, I suppose,” a melodic voice piped up, fading into a slight giggle at the end, “Though, something tells me if you were to show them what mating looks like, they wouldn’t be very entertained.” The horned dragon grumbled some more, clearly over this whole thing already.

“I wish Yoongi hyung came,” his voice sounded really pouty and whiney, making me silently snicker to myself again, “I bet he would have found a way to leave already. Or he’d terrify people enough to leave us alone.” At least we clearly were in the same boat, cheers to that.

Before I realised what was happening, because I was not so discreetly watching the two interact with a slight smile on my face like a dummy, there were quick heavy footsteps heading my way. I quickly snapped out of it as soon as I clocked that the person was aiming at me, and cursed under my breath when I saw Lord Kim with his fake predatory grin.

“The Kang youngling, what a surprise to see you here finally,” the man spoke loudly enough to have everyone in our vicinity snapping their heads to him and pushing all the attention to me. I pressed myself harder into the wall, the polite smile somewhat malfunctioning when he barrelled all the way into my personal space.

“Baron Kim, to what do I owe the pleasure?” came out through gritted teeth, the man clearly not understanding the meaning of boundaries. With every step away I took, he came closer, leaving us in an awkward shuffling match.

“Well, of course I have to welcome General Kang’s daughter to our unit, he wouldn’t want it any other way," the elderly man said sleazily, a disgusting grin plastered on his ugly mug. I had to fight not to laugh at his words – our unit? He’s never been a part of Qinglong, but he always wished for it – so instead he bought his way in. As a benefactor he was always invited and properly talked up with sweet, honeyed words, he even managed to wheedle a dragon out of them (though from what I understand, he didn’t ride as he was afraid of hights). I could only imagine what that poor man went through with this lowlife as his master.

“I’m sure my father would be happy to know I’m in such good hands,” I punched out of myself, the lie almost causing me physical pain. With most people who tried to gain the Kangs’ favour, it was hard to tell whether they really admired my father so much they turned insane or whether they secretly hated him and hated that they had to simper up to him; and that much could be said about Lord Kim as well.

Who knows where that old man’s loyalty lied and what his goals were, but the truth was that my father despised him and thought him to be an idiot.

While he started poetically voicing his well wishes and praises of the unit, I had a goal. Just a few metres away from me was an arch with glass doors open wide. As the second part of this event would take place outside, the garden there was already prepared and all I had to do was slip out and disappear quietly.

But between me and the open door sat the two dragons I had been listening to earlier, both of which had shut up now and watched my plight with varying degrees of interest and amusement, much like many others around us. When I glanced at the door again and happened to see the dark-haired dragon badly covering a cheeky smirk, clearly laughing at my expense, my eyes narrowed at him in faux anger.

The man had whole three seconds to realise I had seen him and take in my expression, before I side-stepped with the brightest smile I could muster and gestured towards the duo. Both of them froze like I just caught them stealing my grandma’s jewellery, wide eyes regarding me.

“Well, I was just about to come speak with these gentlemen, would you mind introducing me?” the overly sugary tone of my voice made the dragon’s eyes narrow at me in turn and when Lord Kim wasn’t watching I turned to him with a shit-eating grin. Truly, the baron was a curse that had to be shared, who was I to deny them the pleasure of his company?

The old man was clearly surprised with me jumping into his monologuing, eyes hopping between the three of us with his mouth hanging open slightly before he recovered and put on another polite smile.

“But of course!” he took it in stride, immediately sliding to the horned dragon’s side and clapping him on the shoulder lightly, which made the young man straighten. The obvious strength of his muscles and the wideness of his shoulders stood out even more like that, and it looked almost comical next to the stuttering Lord. He looked mildly afraid, but soldiered on, like a cursed auctioneer.

“Only the best for the general’s daughter, I see,” the flattery slipped out of his mouth with practiced ease before he once again gestured to the two young men, “these are two of the members of the Bangtan thunder.” Now it was my turn to freeze as those words poured over me.

Everything screeched to a halt and my eyes involuntarily jumped to the dragons who looked significantly more smug, sending cheeky teasing grins my way at having the rug pulled from under me like that. I could only imagine what kind of shock displayed on my face, but they seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it.

After the emperor’s personal thunder of dragons, which wasn’t a true thunder due to the fact that he was the one who collected them instead of them bonding naturally, Bangtan was the second most known. They’ve been mated for as long as anyone currently alive (and many generations before that) could remember and hosted seven of some of the most powerful dragons known to be currently existing. And while they’ve had riders before, everyone was aware that the sovereign himself didn’t like to see when people bonded them due to their strength and unbreakable pack loyalty.

Thus some of the dragons from the thunder were known as their own entities, based on their powers and achievements, turning into a sort of living legends that walked among humans but could rarely be seen or touched. Really, I should have known the second one of them mentioned Yoongi, but I didn’t even realise that was the name uttered.

Everybody who was interested in dragons knew of these seven, even if the chances of seeing them were low.

“This one here is Jungkook,” Lord Kim continued completely unperturbed, clapping the bigger dragon on his back again, although much more hesitantly, and then he pointed at the ethereally beautiful man, “and that one is Jimin.”

The blush was back under the intense scrutiny of the silver-scaled man, and all I could think of while I put the face to the name was that it made perfect sense. Of course he was someone this unreal, with all the stories about his charms and seductions that were being told by people who encountered the thunder.

He seemed to be satisfied with flustering me, a small smile setting onto his lips in victory.

Now that I thought about it, it was true that people naturally avoided these two, and there was a circle of empty space around the armchairs as even now people hesitated to move closer and join in the conversation. Everyone seemed to be aware of their identity.

I mentally face-palmed myself. I was supposed to be a knight, perception was supposed to be one of my strong suits.

“Come on boys,” Lord Kim drawled out again, “Greet the young Kang.” Silence followed, stretching between us awkwardly while the elderly man became more wooden with each second passing, red setting into his face in embarrassment and indignation at being ignored so blatantly. Then, both of them nodded slightly.

I bowed to them fully, bending at the waist in a (hopefully) perfect 90 degrees angle, hands clasped in front of my chest in a gesture of respect.

“It is an honour to meet you, sir Jimin and sir Jungkook,” it’s obvious my politeness shocked them, as the moment I come back up their eyes are wide and staring at me. Lord Kim started grumbling something about ungrateful dragons, feeling ashamed at such a lukewarm welcome from the boys, and the moment he wasn’t looking, I flashed them a teasing smirk.

Thankfully Lord Kim got interrupted once again in the middle of his tearful tirade and with many apologies he rushed off, the relief visible as his shoulders sagged the moment he wasn’t anywhere near the Bangtan dragons.

The three of us watched him for a moment before our eyes redirected back to each other, a strange but not unpleasant atmosphere hanging over us. Before I could start feeling the silence turn awkward, Jimin’s eyes narrowed at me, but there was still a slight upwards curl to his lips.

“Now, that wasn’t very nice,” he drawled out in his melodic hypnotic voice, eyes dark and stormy. I flushed from head to toe, thoughts stuttering, still not used to being perceived by someone like him, and it still served to amuse him greatly as he leaned back into the armchair.

Jungkook over at his chair watched me with a mischievous expression, his big dark eyes making him seem so innocent if it wasn’t for the cheeky curl to his lips. I realised there were several piercings all over his face and ears, strangely fitting his persona quite well, and as he squirmed in his seat, I could see tattoos peeking out of his robe’s sleeves. His tongue peeked out a little as he smirked at me, preparing to speak as well.

“You were laughing at me,” I beat him to it, batting my eyelashes in faux sweetness, “Of course I had to repay you for that.” The two dragons scoffed, making themselves more comfortable and I could see the exact moment the apprehension bled out of them, and I wasn’t deemed a threat anymore.

“Well, welcome to the unit newling,” Jungkook said, and it hit me that even though he looked very young for a dragon, he was still most likely hundreds of years old, and I choked a little on the smart retort. The man must have realised that’s what happened, because he was smirking up a storm like a little shit.

To my surprise, I also found myself relaxing in their presence, the ease with which we interacted never really came to me this readily. I was mostly stiff and nervous and dancing around topics and words in fear of offending or giving people excuses to spread rumours and mock my father. Not that I particularly cared about his image, but because I knew I would be the one to reap the consequences if something uncouth started making its way through the high society. I didn’t feel such pressure with these two, who watched me with curious but frank eyes.

“That is most definitely a nicer welcome than Lord Kim,” I muttered absent-mindedly, half-way lost in thought, wracking my brain for the last time I talked with someone with this much elation. Jimin giggled at that, drawing my attention back to him with a little bit of a leftover fluster from before.

“Don’t worry, everyone in this room shares that opinion,” he said leisurely, laid back in his chair elegantly, “He tends to annoy everyone he speaks to. Especially our kin.” Jungkook nodded at that, something dark and solemn creeping into his eyes.

“He doesn’t know the meaning of manners,” the horned dragon supplied darkly, face hard and unfriendly as he caught sight of the older human man again. I nodded in sympathy, knowing very well how the man could get.

“Lord Kim is one of those people who never leave you alone once they realise they can benefit from you,” I added to the conversation, moving a little closer to the armchairs so that I could lower my voice and make sure none of the nosey onlookers caught onto our conversation. The man might be generally disliked, but I still wouldn’t be taking any chances while gossiping like this.

“He’s been trying to get into my father’s favour for years, but he absolutely despises him,” I shared with them, the open secret not really something that had to be kept hush even though no one normally said it out loud, “Father thinks he’s a right dunce.”

The boys grinned. “Well, he’s right about that. I’ve known the man for decades and he hasn’t changed a single bit,” Jimin added his two cents, once again reminding me that I was speaking to nigh immortal beings that have been around for far longer than I was able to comprehend, “He’s a snake. A rat.” I hummed and nodded again, the conversation dying down after that.

I looked through the room from my new vantage point, finally far enough to observe as no one really wanted to approach the corner with the two Bangtan dragons.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just about them being powerful and dangerous, but the emperor’s habit to control who rode them in fear of losing his power over them generally scared people away from interacting. Therefore, the only ones that were bonded to them were either recruited by the ruler himself or found themselves under his intense scrutiny. Because of that, riders tended to stray away from the Bangtan thunder, too afraid to bring unto themselves the sovereign’s ire.

My eyes were caught on a flash of black and silver, messy bun now somehow even more messed up as Hwa-young cheerfully conversed with another woman. The power was radiating off of her powerful stance and proud straight shoulders, dark charcoal hair falling freely over them and sometimes giving off dark green flashes when the light reflected off of them just right. Their stance was relaxed, and it seemed that their chat was going well and amicably.

“Your friend is conversing with Yong,” Jimin intercepted my shameless staring, and I realised both of the dragons were watching me raptly, “She is a righteous dragoness. A good one, strong and brave, even though a little hard-headed.” Jungkook snickered at that, hiding his smile behind his hand as the dragoness threw the subtlest little amused look their way, and I realised she must have heard them all across the room with her enhanced senses.

“The old ones always are,” the tattooed man added with a teasing lilt to his voice and both dragons watched giggling as the one called Yong discreetly flipped them off while pretending to dust off her shoulder. Hwa-young at this point seemed to catch on, I saw her confused face as she turned around and immediately brightened up the moment she noticed me, waving her hand enthusiastically. I returned it, just as amused as my companions.

“Are you not interested in ‘the hunt’?” Jimin asked me suddenly, something bitter creeping into his expression as he signalled air quotes around the word. I gazed at him for a few quiet moments, taking in the abrupt tenseness in his posture.

“I was trying to observe and find someone easy to approach,” I answered truthfully, “but then Lord Kim found me. I never got around to walking up to someone.” All three of us focused back onto the place swarming with people, the boys now amusing themselves by pointing out dragons that weren’t talking to anyone and had “good potential”.

“Are you trying to get rid of me right now?” I asked laughing, jumping into Jungkook’s long monologue about a young fire dragon standing alone in a corner few metres away from us. He halted in the middle of a word, giving me a cheeky glance and I already started recognising the mischievous glint in his smile.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from finding your dragon,” he drawled out in a playful manner, looking like he was two seconds away from batting his eyelashes at me, “and since you didn’t officially declare your intent to try a bond with us, I assume you must be wanting to be on your way to meet another one.” That took all the wind from my sails, the witty retort dying on my tongue as the dragons both looked at me with mischievous eyes.

“I honestly didn’t know that was an option,” came out a little scratchy and quiet, immediately making my cheeks burst into flames as the two dragons regarded me with teasing eyes.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Jungkook proclaimed cheerily and stood up abruptly. Suddenly he was towering good two heads over me, his wide sturdy shoulders almost casting a shadow over my form. I gulped, seeing him now in his full glory, it suddenly made sense as to why people thought him to be intimidating. Even though he seemed to be a little goof.

Jungkook then did something that shocked not only me and Jimin, but also everyone standing around keeping an eye on the interaction – he offered me his hand, free of gloves that dragons always wore. Stunned speechless I eyed the outstretched appendage for a few tense moments, out of the corner of my eye noting Jimin’s mouth hanging open, face wearing an expression of such open surprise it was almost comical. There were some gasps and whisperings from behind us, Jungkook’s gaze ever so often jumping over my shoulder and levelling someone with a glare.

The reason for such reaction was a quite simple one – this plain action was the whole purpose of this banquet. Well, at least partly.

I for once wasn’t expecting to get a handshake this easily, usually dragons guarded themselves and needed a lot more persuading before they even considered taking such a step with the potential riders, but here we were – Jungkook’s hand awkwardly hanging in the air between us as he grew exponentially more nervous with every second I didn’t take it.

The easiest way to describe the link between a dragon and its rider would be to call it a magical bond, one very similar to that of mated pairs and thunders. Bonds like these linked the two beings together closer than most humans could imagine. It was very important to cultivate the bond and grow it strong, to intertwine the two hearts and support the care and trust that needed to exist between the two, otherwise even strong bonds could easily deteriorate or the connection wouldn’t reach its full potential.

It also allowed the human part of the bond to benefit from the dragon’s magic (while vast majority of humans weren’t magic, we were pretty compatible with it if borrowed) – it enhanced the rider’s senses and strength, established a mind link and enabled telepathic communication, which was sorely needed while on dragonback (believe it or not, it was hard to talk to someone while flying at high velocity sitting on their back).

And a bond like this, like any other, required a certain compatibility. Dragons, as the higher level magical beings of the two, were mostly the ones who felt the potential someone carried to successfully establish a bond, but the easiest way to find out was physical contact. Once you touched, the potential would most definitely be felt (according to what I heard, it felt a little like an electric hum passing through the place of contact) – or not, based on the situation.

That’s why they usually wore their hands covered, to avoid accidental connections and half-way there bonds.

A dragon could have several potential bondeds, it wasn’t exclusive until one was chosen to take the next step, but once this compatibility was discovered, it was crucial to try and learn the person to aid in the process of decision making. It was slightly similar to the process of courting.

Due to these reasons, it was quite rare for a dragon to offer someone the opportunity to touch them – and find out whether they were potentially compatible.

This banquet, even though it was called the mating banquet (as the boys pointed out it should be more of a bonding banquet as mating happened exclusively between couples and thunders), this banquet was more of a getting to meet your options kind of deal. Rarely someone offered you their hand after only a few exchanged sentences.

Thus, the stunned silence stretched between the three of us and an expectant kind of hunger reflected in eyes of those around us. Had I been more in the headspace to take notice of my surroundings, I’d have realised the hum of conversation somewhat lulled as people noted the situation and kept one eye on us while they pretended to keep the chatter up.

Jimin sat frozen in his chair, his face mortified, as if Jungkook committed some cardinal faux-pas (which he probably did to be honest, dragon etiquette was a little bit different than the human one), and I would almost take offence to it if I wasn’t completely stupefied myself.

The cheeky dragon in question though seemed completely unperturbed, even as nervousness started tugging at his handsome smile, but he valiantly tried to withstand it, keeping the hand hanging and his face a picture of mischief.

And I found that I quite liked the total disregard of rules he presented.

Finally gathering my bearings, I felt my own face stretch into a sassy grin and without a moment more of hesitation I grabbed his hand and squeezed it firmly in a sure handshake. And the rumours were in fact true, though the extent was sorely understated – our energies merging in a single burst of raw potential felt like a shock of electricity running from the tips of my fingers all the way up to my shoulder, the aftershocks buzzing through me like I got hit by lightning.

I gasped, a little too loud, and instinctively went to rip my hand away from the grip, but Jungkook didn’t let me. His eyes were trained on me, subtly glowing with a dark purple haze, grin turning a little sharper. But it didn’t put me on edge, quite the opposite – it felt like I won something.

Then our hands let go and the spell was broken, the remnants of a shimmering haze setting into my mind and bones. I could still feel the phantom tingles in my fingers, and they flexed almost subconsciously, trying to chase away the foreign sensation.

“Wow,” came a quiet breathless exclamation from Jimin, the smaller man still sitting in his place but now looking at our hands with wonder and disbelief, “that was strong.” The flush immediately flooded my cheeks once more (truly, it was starting to be embarrassing, I’d never been like this around anyone, though it could have something to do with the fact that I generally liked dragons a little more than I did humans) and I took a tiny step back, fighting my lungs to expand and take in more breath, my whole body feeling like I had to manually haul it back into working order.

Though one look at my now potential bonded showed me that he was similarly blushing, cheeks a healthy pink colour, lips pursed in a shy smile and eyes watching me full of emotion that was entirely too fragile and tender.

Before I could blurt out something that could potentially either embarrass or straight hurt the man, Jimin immediately jumped in, probably sensing his mate’s emotional state.

“Sorry about that,” he told me, gently looking over his lover, “Bonds of this strength can sometimes put us into a strange mindset. He’ll be back to himself in a few moments.” The silvery dragon’s mouth opened and closed a few times, the man deliberating whether he should speak more or not, but ultimately he only gave me a tight smile and started manhandling Jungkook back into the chair.

I felt that there was something crucial that wasn’t shared to me, but if Jimin thought it too personal to say, I didn’t want to push him. I myself still felt the little bursts of our energies merging, the aura around my hand suddenly feeling cold and empty, as if it was missing a significant piece.

Leave it to me to be the one person that even has a clingy aura. I glared at the offending appendage as if scolding it, quickly folding both my arms behind my back and trying to make is as natural as possible. Even my hair felt singed with the potential bond manifesting, and I swore I could smell something burnt, only hoping it either wasn’t something visible or my mind was just playing tricks on me.

“I’ve never felt anything like that before,” a hushed whisper made it to me and I was torn away from my own musings, attention now back to the two men who seemed to be locked in a very private exchange, both leaned towards each other and whispering so that nothing but a hum could be heard.

Realising the words weren’t meant for me, I cleared my throat and took another step back, the singed hand quickly thrown in the direction of the buffet table in a last hail mary attempt to find an appropriate escape. “I am going to…” I started, voice still a little breathless, “I want something to drink, would you also like something?”

I could see on Jimin’s face before he even opened his mouth to speak that he was going to decline, but Jungkook quickly jumped in, his volume rising a little more than he was anticipating.

“I’ll have water!” the horned dragon seemed a little embarrassed by the outburst too, but when Jimin stared at him incredulously he seemed quite unapologetic. I nodded slowly, taking another step, then nodded again like the words just registered in my mind.

“Sure.” With that I woodenly walked over to the main table that dominated the Grand Hall.

I felt the looks, some curious, some envious and some outright raging, but I ignored them all. This, for now, still meant nothing. Even though the power of it shocked us both (all three if counted Jimin), it meant nothing. I was still one of many that could vie for the young dragon’s attention.

The thought left a bad aftertaste in my mouth, a strange uncomfortable feeling setting in my stomach at the prospect of someone else trying to be Jungkook’s bonded, and I quickly pushed those feelings away, grumbling to myself.

I thought I knew what to expect, but no one told me a bond felt like this. No one warned me it would mess with my head and with my mind, send my heart racing when I faced the image of losing the chance to bring this to a successful end. I only knew the man for barely an hour, for fuck’s sake! He didn’t even express an intention to pursue this!

I slowly begun to understand why it was generally more accepted to wait to know the person a little bit more, if this was how the link manifested.

Giving myself a metaphorical slap I swiftly wrangled the reigns safely back into my logical side’s hands and fully focused on finding a cup and water.

I more felt than saw a presence at my right, someone sidling up to me closer than necessary with how much space this table took up. Still a little emotionally charged, when I turned to confront this person, I was already irritated.

What greeted me was a sleazy smile on a middle-aged face, a greying stubble and a mop of dark slowly silvering hair. The man was human, that much was obvious, and there was a woman with a judgemental look on her face hanging off of his arm, most probably his wife. I gave them both a once-over, trying to take in as many details as possible to clue me in to the man’s identity, but he would no doubt introduce himself.

My eyes promptly caught on an insignia with a burning rising sun, meaning he was one of the councilmen – he must have been very well acquainted with my family, though his name continued to escape me. I sighed, shoulders slumping and then I forced on a polite smile.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” despite the words, my voice didn’t speak of pleasure nor joy, instead the annoyance bled in quite heavily, almost to a point of being rude. The duo didn’t seem phased, the man’s smile maybe even brightening at my words and the woman’s face still in the same grimace as before.

“I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced yet,” he started immediately, ignoring my words and tone completely, “Please, call me Lord Lee.” He offered me his hand and I had a very brief but a very intense flashback to Jungkook’s, before I shook it off and very reluctantly took it.

“Are you perhaps the Duke of Western territories?” I enquired, forcing my attention back to the table to show him I wasn’t interested in him and his words, trying to sound as bored as possible.

A chuckle came from him, the woman still completely silent, before he shuffled even closer.

“The one and only,” there was a showman lilt to his intonation, and I felt a wave of distaste towards this man so strong I almost visibly shuddered. He thought he was so charismatic, the poor sod. I only hummed, hands now moving onto one of the few untouched platters of small desserts and quickly plating some.

A moment of silence, then more shuffling – this time thankfully not closer to me as that would entail him brushing my side, though I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t do that even in the middle of a room full of armed knights.

“I just felt that congratulations were in order,” he said finally, a lot more bite to his words now that I’ve managed to offend him, “We all saw you with that dragon.” My hands paused minutely before resuming their actions. The disrespectful address to Jungkook didn’t escape me neither.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lord Lee,” I answered sweetly, “It was just an introduction. It can still go in a very different direction. Nothing is set in stone. Yet.”

It seemed that the man didn’t come over to suck my father’s dick as my sass was very much not appreciated by him and I could see his face turn into an unfriendly scowl.

“Well, of course that the Kang family cannot disappoint by not aiming straight at Bangtan,” the hostility in his stance suddenly doubled as he spit this out, forcing me to take a step back from the unfiltered fury, “Only the best for the general’s daughter.” He was mocking me, but the anger made it hard to decipher it as anything else than pure envy.

I tried to keep my face neutral, even as my own anger and resentment resurfaced. Father made many enemies, and thanks to his attitude we as his children often caught the brunt of resentful disgruntled councilmen and their offspring trying to cope with their bruised egos by punishing us instead of the untouchable man.

And we were expected to just go with it, lest our behaviour reflects badly on him.

I stared at the duke for a moment longer, trying to look as unimpressed as humanly possible, until the fire died down within him a little and he started shuffling on his spot. “Lord Lee,” I started, channelling the disappointed teacher energy that my father often had whenever we displeased him, “as I said, and you should know this, anyone can come up to them and strike up a connection. I might not be the only person this year compatible to them.”

The man pursed his lips and didn’t speak any further, though the unspoken rebuttal hung in the air between us. And I knew that the words stuck in his throat were true, but he couldn’t say them for they were too daring.

Anyone couldn’t, I did because the emperor approved of my father. I would be allowed near Bangtan thanks to my father’s position.

I raised my eyebrow at the suddenly silent man, challenging him to speak his mind, but he knew if he said those words, it would be speaking out against the crown just as much as against my father. And that could cost him his life.

“Let’s hope the most suitable person wins this race, then,” he settled on finally, and without even looking for my reaction he turned on his heel and walked away, dragging the still quiet woman with him. I scoffed loudly, not bothering to hide it as everyone saw our interaction anyway, and finally was able to leave the table.

People moved out of my way cautiously as I walked through the room, trying to pretend that they weren’t paying attention to me and still making sure to clear the spot as soon as I neared them like I had some terrible contagious disease. It was quite ridiculous, and it left a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

My feet carried me across the room without any clear goal in my mind, not quite ready to return to the two dragons, especially since everyone saw the scene now. Them two no doubt also heard it with their strong hearing, and it would be too awkward to speak to them now.

The moment I spotted a slender figure talking to a green-haired dragon, I immediately swerved to go talk to them for a moment, hoping to escape the situation for a moment longer.

Somewhat clumsily crashing into their conversation, balancing two glasses and a plate of sweets, that most definitely got their attention, Hwa-young turning to grin at me while the dragoness kept her face a carefully sculpted mask of aloof interest.

“Cake?” I blurted out abruptly, raising the plate between us like an offering, instantly feeling the heat in my cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, please,” my schoolmate groaned in joy, hand already reaching for one of the small chocolate treats. The dragoness, Yong as I learnt, was watching us, face impassive, but I could see a glint of something soft in her eyes when her gaze fell onto the cheerful petite woman currently stuffing her face next to us.

Even though I met Hwa-young maybe an hour ago, I was glad Yong seemed to be interested in the young woman’s well-being.

But then her eyes suddenly jumped back to me, boring deep into my soul.

“Bangtan are honourable dragons,” she said finally, her voice a little lower than I anticipated, but smooth as velvet, “They strive for good, maybe more than most.” Her words brought a little smile to my face, reminiscent of the earlier conversation that went basically along the same lines.

My eyes flitted over to the corner where the two men sat hoping to catch their reaction to her words, only to find it empty and the dragons nowhere to be found. I frowned instinctively, hands tightening over the glass of water that Jungkook asked for with heart squeezing, but quickly tampered those thoughts down.

The connection must have been really messing with my head.

I ended up trailing after Hwa-young and her dragoness after that, like a lost puppy, until the greying man stood up once more and announced it was time to move outside. With a deep heaving sigh I abandoned the glass and plates and steeled myself for the true pinnacle of the afternoon.

Hwa-young, once she noticed my uneasiness, gave me an empathetic smile, hand patting me a few times on my shoulder, before she confidently walked up to the glass door and out to the patio, followed by Yong with her curious eyes trained on the knightess.

While the first part of the banquet was mostly for introductions and fraternising, the second part moved outside – that’s why the perfect weather was needed for the day of the event and the court seers and astronomers worked hard to pick an auspicious date to ensure that.

Now the attention from the dragons, a novelty to some and a delicious masquerade to others, the spotlight would shift purely on the novices as we were to partake in several “friendly” competitions to show off our skills.

It was all also a part of the bond creating process, as the show was mostly for the dragons to see their prospective riders and help them choose who’d they like to approach – basically a talent show under the guise of some silly little sportsmanship.

It was also the part I was, surprisingly, even more nervous about than the talking.

When I got outside, most people were already sitting around on the prepared benches, leisurely chatting with the poise only the bored and the filthy rich could have. Five people were already standing in the designated area, fiddling with bows and quivers full of arrows. Quickly, I made my way towards Hwa-young, grabbing my own weapons on the way.

So there was six of us this year. I tried to steal glances at the others to see if maybe I recognised someone, but all of their faces were escaping me. I might have seen them somewhere, but I couldn’t put any names to them, nor their factions or alliances or families.

One man stood all the way in the other corner by himself, air of pompousness and arrogance so thick around him I could sense it all across the field. It bled into every single one of his movements, into the expression on his pale elegant face, even into the way he flicked his long straight black hair out of his face.

Two others stood a little away from him, closer to each other but not interacting in any way. Their faces were carefully sculpted cold expressionless masks as they held the bows in their hands ready for the contest, not talking, not looking out into crowd, nothing.

The last man stood the closest to us, all by himself but with his shoulders relaxed and a positive aura surrounding him. His hands were casually drumming a rhythm into the wood of the bow, foot tapping happily into the dense dirt compacted by thousands upon thousands of armoured shoes walking over it every day. When he noticed me looking his way, he suddenly brightened and gave me a happy smile.

That was enough to shock me into turning back to my own bow and I ignored the cheery man, not that he seemed very offended by that. Instead he immediately changed targets to Hwa-young standing next to me and the two fell into a hushed conversation after a few smiles exchanged.

The bow in my hand was worn, it wouldn’t be impossible to use it, but it was obvious they were some old weapons taken from some forgotten unloved storage. The royal palace insisted that we would use the military’s tools to ensure fairness, but I truly wasn’t expecting them to pull out bows that were probably older than half the men standing around the edges of the training area. And there were dragons present.

Speaking of which, on my next cursory look over the gathered crowd I was able to spot the two Bangtan boys (men?) standing on one side a little bit away from everyone else, eyes already trained on me.

In a split second I noticed and realised three things – Jimin’s hair was actually a really deep dark blue, he was looking at me with a much unfriendlier look than before and Jungkook sent me a shit-eating grin before waving cheekily. I scoffed, kind of amused by his attitude, but also significantly weirded out by the change in vibe in his companion.

While yes, it was very unusual to be dishing out handshakes left right front and centre, but I just kind of assumed Jungkook was one of those who didn’t really care about propriety all too much. He had a vibe of a man that loved to see the world burn, and I had to deeply respect that. His whole aura screamed of youth and mischief, so I chalked up his unusual behaviour up to that. But it seemed that Jimin wasn’t exactly impressed with him, as he eyed me with mistrust like I brainwashed his mate into bonding with me.

Loud clinking brought my attention away from those two and my eyes slowly drifted back to the greying man and who I presumed was his dragoness. That was another mystery to me – it was obvious he was in some sort of position of power, but I’ve never met him nor seen him before – I knew he wasn’t in charge of the unit, and he wasn’t even between the teachers that we met during the trials – and I went through them a few times, as we previously established.

He stood up, the same detached expression on his face, and cleared his throat. “Let the games begin,” he proclaimed simply, “We will start with a shooting competition.” Then he shuffled a little under all that attention before sitting back down. I hid my smile behind my palm while watching his bonded laugh at him. You had to love the way he didn’t want to be here as much as everyone else.

The mirth quickly drained out of me though when I realised with our positioning I would end up going first. I cursed under my breath, my hands growing clammy and shaking, desperately gripping the bow and attempting to look as collected as possible. If we at least started with sword fighting, but we had to jump straight into shooting.

This was exactly what I was afraid of, the mounting shame of what was about to come already drowning me and pulling me under the sea of emotions, leaving me helplessly gasping for air. My lungs painfully constricted, but I got into position nonetheless.

There was a reason for why I struggled to enter this unit in particular, even when I was hell-bent on joining the horns. Growing up with a general for a father, I had been trained from small age – I knew how to properly hold a sword before I learned to use the toilet on my own, but my father was a master of heavy weaponry. He was known for his massive bagua-dao swords, occasionally reaching for scimitars or sabres – not too much for his marksmanship. He was still an incredibly efficient archer, but he preferred not to be stuck with a bow and arrows where there could be blood spilt.

Therefore I somewhat gravitated towards those weapons as well – and well, I wasn’t as sufficient with long-range attacks. I’d always achieve a ‘just close enough’, but I rarely hit the mark precisely. But on dragonback, you had no choice but to aid your troops with ranged attacks.

As one of the trainers back during my first trial put it – ‘A dragon rider that can’t shoot a bow and arrow is like a whore without a pussy’. Truly, what a charming man.

I’d improved a lot, enough to manage to weasel my way into the elite unit, but still my shooting wasn’t perfect. And when you wore a name like Kang, that was a social suicide.

My ears all out of nowhere picked up how the crowd quieted, through the roaring blood and the anxious thoughts, and I realised they all hungrily anticipated my performance. Taking a few stabilising breaths, I tried to reinforce my hands and stop their shaking.

Through the bundle of nerves lodged into my throat and the stones slowly setting into my stomach, I fought to empty myself – my heart, my head – to bring about that one-track focus to the centre of the target that stood off to the distance.

Time slowed down, my heart pumped wildly and my head spun and I let go. The arrow elegantly swished through the air, faster than many were able to see, and embedded itself deep into the straw target, just shy of the red circle dominating it.

Even anticipating those results, my heart still sank knowing that everyone saw. Murmurs rose and the pit of humiliation threatened to swallow me. I hated how I was already berating myself for not doing better, how I was already fearing what would my father say once I got home, how I was too scared to turn around and face their mocking eyes and sneers.

I hated the castle, and I knew that I was on the precipice of getting devoured whole by it.

With shaky sweaty hands I stood there and watched all the other novices hit perfect mark, the waves of polite ovations reaching my ears through the cotton of my inner turmoil.

The second round came, all the eyes turned to me again, and I knew the moment I released the bowstring that the nerves won over me, barrelled through my psyche and I was lost to the chant of insecurities going through my head.

The arrow hit a little to the left of the first one, a tiny bit further from the centre than before.

The weight on my shoulders was pulling them down and I was tenser, more uncomfortable, but I kept my composure. It was crucial that I showed no weakness now, that would be inviting even more trouble. I felt bile rising through my pharynx but swallowed it down and instead forced myself to stand tall with head held high.

I didn’t gather the courage to turn around until the last arrow was released.

I let myself be ushered towards a different area prepared for us while the target practice was moved around and prepared for the final spectacle of the afternoon. In the meanwhile, we were to fight with swords. That was more of a stable ground for me.

Perfectly there was just the right amount of us to compete in twos and I was already hoping that I wouldn’t end up with the snotty kid from the end of the line lest I might try to kill him for sure. Trying to avoid any polite chatter between us and also pointedly not look towards the crowd, I started perusing the weapons offered, thinking of what the best strategy would be to take.

A shortsword was a classic, but nothing too impressive. A longsword a similar case. Though if I had to choose, I’d preferred the two-handed longsword, I had a tendency to get a little too swingy with one-handed weapons. There was a scimitar, which was a solid option even though more suited for horseback – but once again, I’d prefer two-handed weapons.

All the way at the end of the prepared rack (it didn’t escape my attention there was only one for all of us) sat a dadao and bagua-dao right next to each other, glinting in the sun like cruel smiles. As far as I was aware, no one here would actually reach for those – they weren’t standard weapons people were taught to operate.

They were there for me. For family legacy.

That was enough for me to make my choice.

While the others just made it over to the rack and started paying it more attention, I grabbed the plain longsword and moved towards the area fenced off for a duel. I sensed the confused, surprised and mocking gazes rolling off of my back, but I didn’t let their disappointment muddle my already arguably shitty day any more.

I wasn’t here to give them a show. I was here to bond with a dragon.

When everyone had chosen their weapons (I was right, no one went for the dao swords), we all stood there for a moment, too nervous to actually say anything. The arrogant prick was acting like we were all beneath him, but the rest of us eyed the others apprehensively, trying to gauge with who we’d like to end up in a duel.

The puppy boy was now hanging about Hwa-young, the two of them seemed to make fast friends, and honestly, I understood that. I was also drawn into her aura quite quickly, though my current stress prevented me from relaxing around anyone at the moment.

Taking notice of the weapons others chose, I started realising that something didn’t add up. There was only one of each, and it would be impossible to have a proper duel if one person has a longsword and the other a scimitar. It wasn’t that unusual for the battlefield, but in duelling it wasn’t done.

Looking around, there was another rack of weapons on the other side of the fenced area – where we wouldn’t be able to go at the moment due to the fences. It all started clicking in my mind just as Lord Kim of all people stepped up on a little platform and gestured to get the attention of the slowly quieting crowd.

“As was tradition for the second discipline,” he started pompously, chest puffed up and face painted with a sleazy smile, “the novices would duel each other. This year we chose to make a little change for the entertainment of those watching.” I could see a few of us looking confused or slightly uncomfortable, and my own heart tightened for a moment.

Lord Kim gestured somewhere behind him and six people walked up to the rack of weapons on the other side. Three men and three women, all looking coldly towards the baron, standing side by side and anxiously awaiting the order to grab their weapons. It wasn’t that hard to deduce they were all dragons.

Silence fell over us while the crowd clapped happily, the vile joy reflected in their gazes, while we exchanged worried glances. Hwa-young’s face was drawn into a tight serious expression, a stark difference to how she was just a few minutes ago, while the guy by her side shuffled from foot to foot wordlessly.

The only one that didn’t seem to be bothered by the revelation was the smug bastard who stood a little away from us, serenely holding a sabre in his hand and looking straight at a man with flaming red spiky hair, who steadily ignored his attention.

How curious.

I watched as Kim gave the order with a flick of his wrist and the selected six moved with a purpose straight to their chosen weapons. The redhead without hesitation reached for the sabre, eyes glued to the ground and trying to blend in as much as possible, not stand out at all.

I felt a simmer of rage bubble up inside my chest and turned to stare daggers at the newbie only to see that he was already looking at me with a stupid smirk on his face.

So he already knew. He must have been close to someone high up in the unit then – that would make things difficult.

Swearing to myself to find out who was his patron, I made my distaste known on my face all for him to see and then turned back to our chosen opponents, searching for the one with a longsword. Eyes jumping from one to other, I finally found the weapon in the hands of a tall dragoness, her curly ginger hair falling down her back all the way to her tailbone. She as well was already watching me, but her eyes were unreadable, her lips a thin straight line.

The baron’s chuckle had our tense eyes drawing back to him. He stood there, with an awful sharp grin on his face, arms thrown out in a grand gesture, gaze jumping around our faces.

“Well, let the second discipline begin,” Lord Kim announced, “Happy fighting!” He laughed loudly, gestures dramatic and over the top, and then leisurely made his way back to sit next to… Duke Lee. What was it… birds of a feather?

I scoffed at the two men sitting there and acting like old chaps, all chummy and cozy next to each other. Baron Kim was really getting better at dick sucking, look at him, making his way all the way to the duke. Talent had to be recognised.

“Young mistress Kang!” the exclamation of my name startled me into stumbling to turn around, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at me. The dragoness was standing in the middle of the fighting arena, sword hanging from her hands limply. There was a touch of annoyance displayed on her face, but it was obvious she was trying to tamper it down as to not get into trouble.

I flushed lightly but diligently moved into the arena without any more stalling. Of course I’d go first again, we were probably going to keep the order from the first discipline. My nerves were skyrocketing, and I held the sword in my clammy hands.

Fighting in a duel against a same-aged human wasn’t something that brought too much stress to me, it was actually the one discipline of the three I was very confident in and looked forward to. General Kang never went easy on anyone, including his small children even during the first years of our training and I knew I could probably take on half the people from the military and be fine.

Duelling against a centuries old dragon with so much more strength and sharper senses though, that was a completely different story. Defeating a dragon, even in a sword fight, was virtually impossible. It took a lot of training, mostly with specific dragons, and most people resorted to underhanded tactics to gain an upper hand.

So the desired effect of this duel was most likely to present well with tactics, endurance and skill, not to actually aim to win. It was hard entering a ring knowing you will lose the fight, hard to muster up the courage to the absolute most to win when you know it’s a done deal from before you even stepped in, but this, like many other things, was mostly about appearances.

With a sigh I took my position and gestured to my opponent that I was ready. She did the same immediately and in a second a whistle sounded through the air, letting us know the match had started.

Nobody made a move at first, both of us holding our stance and slowly circling the arena, gauging the other and calculating the best approach.

I admittedly wasn’t the type to jump in headfirst into offensive, it usually took me a while to attack. Sometimes it was to psych the other out, sometimes I just wanted to see what they would do first and adapt to their strategy accordingly. But she seemed to be doing the same thing, so for a few long moments silence enveloped the crowd as they watched us with bated breaths.

I held the sword in a front guard, tip pointing right at her neck, and I just had a split second to register the tightening of her hands on the grip before she was suddenly lunging forward with a straight strike, aiming for my abdomen.

The habit kicked in and I cockstepped to the side, sword immediately flying in a circle guard to parry her attack before I retreated again. There was determination in her face, and she didn’t seem to be terribly appalled by my stance, so I counted that as a win.

This went on for a long while, one of us suddenly lunging forward in an attack to surprise the other, then parry, counter-attack and then retreat, circling around the edges of the arena. I couldn’t hear anything from outside those fences, I had no idea if people were entertained or not, if they watched or not, if they even said anything at all. All my attention was poured into the form of my opponent, watching her every single move.

Longsword was about agility, being quick on your feet and keeping your contender appropriately far to be able to land a hit but not close enough for them to land it back, and I used my small stature and quickness to my advantage a lot when fighting, but even though I was able to stand my ground, I felt the disparity in our strengths.

She was taking it easy on me, I was aware of that. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to parry that easily against a blow with full dragon power behind it, and while she was able to keep her composure, I already felt my body faltering. There was sweat streaming down my face, I felt it soaking through the uniform and making my grip sloppy. My legs were starting to get tired, and I stumbled a few times while side-stepping away from her attacks.

Her movements stayed effortless and fluid, her sword steady and sharp. I started to slip up.

As our patience ran out, the number of attacks increased and finally we were giving the audience what it wanted – an offensive after an offensive, barely giving the other time to counter. She must have tested my strength, because suddenly her blows became much more heavy-handed – she aimed to end this match soon.

She almost overpowered me with a diagonal cut, and my ankle twisted as I turned. Pain burst through me, face turning into a grimace. Her face reflected sure victory, sword already aiming for abdominal horizontal cut.

Last minute I turned my sword into downward guard, turned around it and swung for her right side. There was a split second of surprise on her features, the edge just a hair away from her clothes when she managed to jump away, and I gambled.

Turning my legs into a stable stance I lunged forward, ignoring the throbbing in my ankle. The dull tip aimed straight at the side of her lower abdomen, sword flying through the air. The element of surprise did a lot for me, but she managed to evade.

I cursed, sweat slipping into my eyes and making it hard to see. I didn’t even have the moment to wipe it away. The dragoness disappeared from my field of vision, and I fought my own body to turn quickly, but it wasn’t enough.

When I turned, sword already in position to take upwards diagonal cut at her, there was a tip aimed at my neck. I felt it prick the skin when I stumbled with the momentum, eyes trained on her hands on the handle.

Everything froze for a few seconds, few long seconds during which I only heard my own heaving breath and the roaring hum of blood in my veins. The heat started catching up with me and I shivered under the sudden wave of hotness over my whole body.

Then a thunder of clapping broke through the trance, and I looked up to see her eyes. They weren’t as cold anymore, but I wouldn’t dare to guess what she was feeling. She gave me a curt nod and stepped away, swiftly lowering her sword. Almost involuntarily I let go of my own and my glove went with it, hands too wet to stick to them.

I was still trying to catch my breath, the heavy intakes jerking my whole body and all I wished to do was to tear this stupid uniform off and jump into a cold creek, but I was suddenly grabbed by Lord Kim who materialised on stage and dragged me closer to the expectant crowd.

On instinct I started bowing, dragoness in tow even though there wasn’t even an ounce of the usual winner’s joy in her being, and then we were both sent away.

I stumbled over to our side again, wondering if I could maybe be suffering from heatstroke, when two small but very strong hands pulled me into a hug. Hwa-young squealed right into my ear, but I was too sluggish to actually recoil from the sound.

Before I even fully clocked in the situation, she was already pulling away with a huge grin, hand now patting me on the shoulder.

“That was amazing!” she exclaimed, visibly vibrating in excitement, “It felt like nobody was breathing for the entire time you two fought, the tension was insane!” A single syllable laugh fell out of my tired mouth, a somewhat slanted smile pulling at my lips, before I gestured back inside.

“I need water,” was all that came out of me, very eloquently might I add, and then I steered my shaky knees in the right direction and walked off. With every step I retained a little bit of my previous strength, my body finally acclimatising and slowly pumping the brakes on the excitement and pain.

As I was stepping in, the strangely happy guy from before was just stepping into the ring with his shortsword firmly clutched in his hands and a face full of determination.

Thankfully, no one bothered me while I was inside replenishing my strength, and I re-emerged a few minutes later in a much better shape. The fact that there was one more discipline left already drained me in advance. If I could at least take one layer off, that would make it much better, but it would be improper.

I must have been inside for longer than I thought, because it seemed that two matches have happened in the meantime, with the third now already in motion. The only ones still waiting for theirs was Hwa-young and the peacock with a sabre, both standing next to each other but ostentatiously ignoring the other.

Sitting down in the shade, I watched on. During Hwa-young’s turn I appreciated her form a lot. She was a great fighter, and it was obvious she put her absolute best into the match. Her opponent seemed to be a measured laid-back fighter, and he balanced her energetic offensive very well. When she lost, it was after a good fight and she went down honourably. The dragon even accepted her offered handshake (gloves on, of course, to prevent any skin-to-skin contact and accidentally establish a potential bond) and then they both moved to their respective sides.

The last man stepped in, flaming red hair reflecting the sun and making him almost shine in the middle of the summer garden. Peacock walked up to him and immediately took his stance. Once the whistle was blowed, he flew into an attack within split second, and the match from then on was a wild mess of heavy offensive.

While the dragon seemed to be surprised, like the others he didn’t have much trouble standing his ground and matched the energy given well. As much as I disliked people who valued offensive over anything and expected to win fights just by endlessly swinging their swords around without rhyme or reason, the display of power between the two fighters was quite fascinating to watch.

Their forms were beautiful, and their sabres met with loud clinks, almost hard enough to see sparks flying about. It was a wild flurry of movement, of red and silver flashes and fast footwork that would be hard on even experienced knights.

And that was exactly what got him in the end. The peacock was extremely confident in the first few minutes of the match, but as it dragged on, the dragon refusing to concede and dealing back just as much power, the toll it was taking on the human to keep up started to be visible.

I watched his legs increasingly more stumble and react slower to the attacks and for a brief moment I wondered whether I looked the same when I started losing the fight.

But then he suddenly threw himself at the redhead, sword pushing his to the side and body slamming into him full force. There were a few gasps around in the audience as confusion set in. Aside the fact that this was a sword duel, he definitely couldn’t win against him in a fistfight. And once they got this close, the dragon could really knock him out with a single blow. It was pure insanity.

And I could see the redheaded man preparing to do just that, hand dropping his sabre and body twisting in preparation to take a full swing, when the bastard shot his hand out and grasped around the dragon’s neck.

I was on my feet faster than I could comprehend doing that, dread making my heart stop beating and my stomach to drop all the way down to the ground. His hand was bare, he must have shucked the glove off somewhere during the lunge.

The poor dragon froze under the touch, body going into panic. He tried to twist out of his grasp, and I saw the hand visibly squeeze the flesh tattooed with shackles.

“Kneel!” the human’s booming voice carried over the shocked crowd without a problem, loud enough to even scare off some birds off of the nearby trees.

The redhead locked into place, eyes glazing over and shame seeping out of the very pores of his skin. Then he slowly kneeled, mechanically like he was fighting against his body every step of the way. Once he was on the ground his head hung low, whether it be in humiliation or obedience, and it was a terrible heart-wrenching sight.

The boy let go and then victoriously turned to the audience, smug grin wide on his face, leaving the dragon sitting in the dirt. Then there was an abrupt wave of cheering and clapping, a thunderous sound that swept through the whole garden and Lord Kim was running towards the arena, screaming praises for the only one of us who managed to defeat their dragon.

Shock, disgust and dread kept me frozen in my place, heart squeezing painfully in my chest and lungs constricted. I felt like I was going to be sick, like all that was going to come out of me would be black poisonous sludge from the display we bore witness to.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the lone being shamefully kneeled there, unable to stand up until another command came. A wave of emotions swept through me – rage, compassion, pain – and tears almost sprung into my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away.

When my eyes swept through the crowd, there wasn’t enough horror in people for this to have taken place. Most were sitting around, pleased and happy and talking about the champion. The dragons looked uncomfortable, eyes avoidant and their postures tense. Hard and frozen.

I saw Hwa-young, her face serious and troubled, lips a thin line as she stared at the man who was happily conversing with a bunch of good-for-nothing lords.

It was hard to compute he did something like that. And even harder to compute that it was allowed, in a friendly duel, against a dragon that wasn’t even his bonded.

Even though people liked to pretend that dragons were here all on the accord of their own free will, pretend like they weren’t forced and enslaved, pretend like they wouldn’t get punished if they didn’t go along with their whims, the shackles still remained a stark reminder of their status.

And while the only person who could directly command them was the emperor, or the dragon’s bonded, anyone could really force the dragon into obedience by grabbing their neck. The shackle was a ‘mark of magic’ (among others) – it showcased the place where the dragon was touched with a curse.

And this curse forced them into obedience to humankind. They couldn’t fight against a human and wish him serious harm, they couldn’t go against the emperor or anyone in the position of power, and they couldn’t not obey direct commands coming to them. The magic in their blood enforced their behaviour and there was nothing they could do about it.

So if you wanted to command a dragon and have him be coerced into listening to you, all you had to do was grab their neck where their shackle was, thus activating the curse.

That redhead wouldn’t be able to stand up until he was similarly commanded to do so, because he couldn’t break the order to kneel. It was absolutely disgusting and barbaric.

The conversation really seemed to have moved on, no one paying attention to him. Peacock left with Lord Kim, along with some other novices. Hwa-young and puppy boy stood frozen by the fence for a moment before they guiltily avoided their eyes and moved towards the fray of festivities too. Not that I could blame them.

I didn’t know anything about his background, but Hwa-young certainly couldn’t make a scene about a dragon given the precarious situation she was in.

At least one thing my stupid fucking surname was good for. Sometimes I could get away with being untouchable (sans the consequences my father would give when I got home, but that was a private affair – what they don’t know… can’t hurt me).

Not being able to take it anymore, I steeled myself and made my way towards the arena displaying much more confidence than I actually felt. Presentation was key, I endlessly told myself, in a voice that suspiciously sounded like my father. Subtly checking my surroundings, it seemed that no one was really paying attention to me yet. Which was good, but it would change quickly.

When I got to him, his shoulders were slumped, head still down and refusing to look up. The dragon probably assumed I’d come to mock him, and it broke my heart a little. Once more looking around to make sure nobody cared what I was doing, I kneeled in front him too.

I heard his little gasp of surprise, but he didn’t move in the slightest.

People considered it to be humiliating to kneel in front of a slave, which is why he probably didn’t see often people drop down to his level instead of commanding him to look up. I cleared my throat somewhat awkwardly.

“Pardon the intrusion,” I mumbled softly, making sure he was the only one who heard me, “Don’t panic, I’m going to touch your neck in a moment, okay?” For a few silent moments I waited for him to nod, and he finally realised that as well when no touch came after my words.

After his confirmation I brough my hand to his shackle gently, trying to be as unintrusive as possible, but no matter how much I tried this would always be a violation of them. I felt the magic come alive under my fingertips, thrumming violently through my blood. It was an ugly kind of magic and it made me sick when it filled my being with its aura.

Swallowing the noise of protest at the sensation, I didn’t want to stress him more, I quickly said: “You can stand, and you’re free of commands.” I saw his shoulders relaxing, and he shivered lightly. I quickly tore my hand away from his skin and stood up again, knees protesting at the swift movement.

I offered him my hand, but he ignored it as he himself stood up. His knees must have been in even worse shape after sitting on the rough ground like that, but he carried himself gracefully, shame persistently seeping in at the edges. When our eyes met, he curtly nodded my way and then swiftly walked off, leaving the gathering behind him.

I couldn’t blame him.

A good half an hour went by before I heard Lord Kim’s voice exclaim: “Oh no! Where did our dragon disappear to?” By then I had already moved closer to the shooting range and watched servants bring out and prepare the six horses that would be involved in the next discipline.

There were some general gasps, people looking around with disappointment painting their faces, but no one spoke out against me. No one looked at me, or even cared that I still sat by the side, leading me to assume that my actions haven’t been noticed, thankfully.

As the commotion slowly quietened, I willed my heart to calm down, body sagging lightly against the stone bench.

While I was looking forward to the last discipline, horseback shooting at moving targets, the atmosphere hung heavy over us after the last match, and it was hard to have any enjoyment from anything taking place. Peacock of course was in great spirits and the two expressionless guys that haven’t said a single word as far as I was concerned didn’t seem to care at all, but we the remaining three all showed different signs of uneasiness, the good mood sapped out of us in the blink of an eye.

We stood in a hushed group, still processing everything, while the others were already claiming horses and preparing their bows.

“I was kind of expecting it and it still caught me off guard that he’d just… go there,” finally Hwa-young broke the silence, looking at me solemnly. I gave her a confused look, tilting my head slightly.

“What do you mean ‘expecting it’?” the question fell out my lips and it drew the attention of the boy.

“The blond one tried to reach for the neck, but got quickly overpowered,” he jumped in to explain, “I thought it was more like a tactic to scare her or psych her out, at the moment it didn’t look like he’d really go for it.” His gaze was pointing to one of those silent two, a tall blond with cold blue eyes.

“Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, hand flying to me in an offered handshake, “I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Choi Siwoo, of the southeast clan.” I only hesitated for a split second before I took it, attempting a small smile even with my heart still heavy.

I was kind of already beginning to like Hwa, her story and attitude made me trust in her good side a little more, and this guy seemed to be just a ball of sunshine. She evidently got along with him and for the moment I’ve decided to tentatively trust her judgement.

God knows I’d need as many allies on my side as possible and I trusted that Hwa-young of all people wouldn’t have a problem with me based on my clan. Plus both of them most probably had the same opinion as me about the violating display peacock put on.

It was quite sad, but once you found people who actually believed dragons to be real beings with real rights, you’d better hand onto them and not let them go. I myself was painfully aware of how meagre the numbers of those were.

Siwoo’s face brightened with a toothy grin, hand briefly squeezing mine before he pulled back. There was a little bit of relief on his face and I wondered whether he was worried I’d reject his friendship offer. He and Hwa exchanged a short happy look, she nodded a little, and then turned to beam at me. A little snicker escaped my lips at their shenanigans, but I didn’t stick around to see their faces split with wide smiles.

Instead I finally started making my way towards one of the still available horses, choosing a white one with black and brown spots, absentmindedly picking up the bow and quiver with arrows. Once we were all on horseback and ready, Lord Kim once again climbed up to a little platform and with a few pompous words blew the whistle.

I was miles away in my mind, just going with the flow of the horse’s movement. I’ve always loved horses since little, and anytime I found myself on one I usually relaxed very quickly, which combined with my troubled heart and mind had me escaping away from this awful little banquet, my mind carrying me to the green pastures and meadows of our fief.

Thus I ended up missing my first shot, just breezing past the target without even pulling out my bow. A quick shout of my name later I was confusedly looking around only to see Hwa-young’s worried face. She gestured to her bow and I immediately realised I must have not even seen where I was supposed to be shooting.

The discipline went on, and after a few circle arounds I even managed to hit a bullseye, more or less on accident. The crowd gave me some polite applause, but I found myself as shocked as half the people sitting there on that garden.

By the time they finally called us back, I was already prepared to disappear home the next second I could. I was over all this, mentally and physically drained and I hated the audience watching our every move, my skin crawling with every curious or hateful glance.

Of course, we were meant to be socialising more, but I planned to slink off the moment people stopped paying attention to me. Having led the horse back to the stables, I was back in the crowd, slowly making my way inside to grab some more refreshments. I ignored the hum of murmurs around me, mocking my score or whispering about my father.

When someone threw a glare at me, I returned it with a polite smile, the tiredness pulling the attitude back onto the surface. Today had quite enough of diplomatic and courteous encounters, now I was done.

Making it over to the almost empty buffet table, a scowl was already pulling down at my lips, making me look even more unfriendly than usual. When somebody’s presence suddenly made itself known behind me, I was ready to snark at them until they left. They couldn’t even let me eat in peace.

For a few moments I continued to ignore the person, even though I knew they were messing around with something on the table, hoping they weren’t here for me after all, but all those hopes got shattered the moment they walked up straight to me and tapped my shoulder.

I started turning around, a smart retort already about to slip off of my tongue when I came face to face with a broad chest and shoulders, tattoos peeking from his tunic and pierced lips, and it promptly withered and died in my throat. He had tattoos there as well? How did I miss that?

Lightly flustered I quickly snapped my head up, searching for the dragon’s eyes. Jungkook was grinning at me from up above, gaze sparkling just like before. I stumbled a step or two back, putting some more space between us to make the height gap less blaringly obvious. He snickered at me, but stayed put, leisurely leaning with his hip on the table.

“Looked like you were booking it, so I wanted to catch you before you disappear,” the dragon explained with a knowing smile, “just to set some things straight.” A soft questioning noise left my mouth, a mixture of anxiety and confusion hitting me. Sudden fear that he’d come here to let me down gently gripped me and I desperately tried to temper it down, not even recognising myself and the strange behaviour I’d been exhibiting since I accepted his handshake.

Jungkook seemed blissfully oblivious though and kept cooly leaning on the table, completely relaxed in his stance and expression. My calculative gaze slid from his head to his toes, trying to gauge what he’d feel the need to tell me this urgently. Preparing myself for the worst, I invited him to speak with a gesture of my arm.

“I want to reserve your noon three days from now,” the dragon told me, body language still quite laid-back, lulling me into believing that maybe this wasn’t bad news after all, “A personal training, after that we’ll talk.”

Even though I tried to keep my expression in check, I couldn’t eliminate the chance that he heard my heart happily jump in my chest and skip a few beats. The expression on his face was earnest when I lost to myself and checked it just to be sure, but I also noticed a light dusting of a blush over his cheekbones while his fingers tried to detangle his bangs from the little horns coming out of his forehead. With a start I realised that his hair actually wasn’t black, but there was a deep purple metallic sheen to it that gave off little coloured flashes when it was hit by the light right.

He cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly, and started shuffling. Immediately I realised I haven’t actually answered to him and instead just stood there staring at him. I couldn’t help the rush of colour to my cheeks and briefly I wondered whether his blush meant he was feeling similar effects of the established connection.

I’d have to research bonds a little, I’d never known it could influence you like this. Wistfully I thought back to the memory of my teacher, the desperate desire to know where he was or that he’d be still here with me manifesting again. He’d tell me everything, answer all of my questions without hesitation.

But before I could get too off track in my thoughts and leave Jungkook even more hanging, I cleared my throat as well. “Does- Does that mean you are interested in pursuing the connection?” I squeaked out, throat a little dry and my flustered state making it hard to speak seriously.

The dragon grinned at me, boyish and free with a hint of mischief, and it did make me thaw a little in face of such a display. It made him look young and on top of the world, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from briefly jumping to his shackled neck with a painful pang to my heart.

“Of course!” he exclaimed loudly, “You seem pretty cool.” I raised my eyebrow at him, but ultimately chose to not answer to that. Taking another step back I let food be food and returned an impish grin of my own.

“Sure then, see you in three days.” Jungkook seemed very satisfied by that answer and without further ado turned around to leave.

I watched him go with my heart quivering in both hope and nerves as I found myself so close to the edge of something great. Of something meaningful. I couldn’t mess it up now.

Of course my father would be beyond overjoyed that I’d managed to catch the attention of Bangtan, as it would catapult me straight to the top. It would cement me as something special from the very beginning, and that was all he ever wanted of us. The emperor would surely allow me to ride him, because I was a Kang and that was all that mattered. I’d finally make myself useful and aide my father in his power-hungry ways.

But that wasn’t what I wanted.

No. I wanted to change the world. Change would always have to start at the top.

And I would bring this empire down, once and for all.

With a true genuine smile I also turned on my heel, in a completely different direction, and swiftly left the banquet behind me. It was time to learn how to impress a dragon.

Jungkook was slowly getting fed up with Jimin’s disconcerted looks thrown his way, the older dragon making it well known for the several past hours just how upset he was with the youngest.

“Okay, god, I get it, can you stop staring at me like that?” he grumbled out, flinching at his mate’s disbelieving expression. The smaller man had basically smoke rising from his head with how angry he seemed to be, and that was a feat considering he was a water dragon.

“Excuse me?!” he exclaimed wildly, “So dare you explain to me what the hell was that?!” Something strange and tense settled between them the moment Jungkook offered the Kang girl his hand, and he knew this was long time coming, the blue-haired man very obviously just looking for an opportunity to have a private chat with him.

Jungkook shrugged, and in hindsight, that wasn’t the best reaction judging by the frustrated noise he got from Jimin in answer, but he himself didn’t really know. Honestly, he was just as confused as everyone else, but something just… compelled him?

“I- I don’t know,” he quickly remedied, not wanting to provoke the other dragon even more, “it just felt like the thing to do.” That earned him a frown. Jimin stopped in his tracks, turning to look at his youngest mate with something slightly alarming making itself home in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly, gaze imploring and looking for answers, “Jungkook, this wasn’t just ‘something to do’, you could have made a huge fool out of yourself. Not to mention that you don’t just go around offering handshakes to riders! You skipped several steps of a whole process that’s there for a reason!”

Jungkook shrunk under the barrage of Jimin’s upset words, the inkling need to start defending himself and get upset back wiggling into his bones, but on a rational level he knew his mate was more worried than anything.

“Bonds are fickle things, you don’t simply jump headfirst into it with a complete stranger!” the water dragon continued, determined to let it all out now that they were gone from public and had space to hash it out, “It could have made you sick, it could have felt awful, it could have connected you to a terrible person. It’s not as simple as introducing yourself, bonds are strong and deep and they can influence you. You don’t go around doing that with everyone, you wait until you meet a person that feels right to offer it to!” That was Jungkook’s opening.

“But didn’t you feel it too, hyung?” he whispered, knowing he succeeded in worming some doubt into his hyung’s mind, “It was there even before we touched. That’s what I meant when I said it just felt… right to do. I can’t explain it, I just knew it was meant to happen somehow. And you know how gullible I am to instincts!” He threw in a good pout as well, grabbing onto Jimin’s sleeve and selling the cuteness to the max.

Jimin gave him a chastising look, but it was obvious his resolve was breaking and he was fighting his own smile at the cute display.

“I saw how you reacted, hyung,” Jungkook whispered again, hand sliding down to lock their fingers together, “I know you felt something.”

Both dragons were very well aware that something about this bond was strange, but neither knew how to explain to the other the sensations and feelings that ran through them in that moment they touched. Jimin pursed his lips, not finding the right words and feeling in way over his head.

“Let’s get home, I want to talk to hyungs about it,” he simply murmured and started dragging the other with him through the silent dark streets of the capital city. This part was always dead quiet in the middle of the night, the proximity of the royal palace scaring all nightly activities away into more shady parts. The shadow of the empire just always hung over this district, turning its atmosphere into something rotten and heavy.

It wasn’t far to their town house, the building that they reluctantly used whenever they needed to stay over in the capital as opposed to flying two hours back to their den, and both quickly found themselves enveloped in a much warmer aura of their combined scents. Even this deep into the night there was a hum of activity heard, signalling that the whole thunder was still awake and most likely waiting for their return.

Tae was sitting with Hoseok outside in the tiny yard, but they immediately moved inside the moment they heard the two sets of footsteps. The rest of the mates were all already sitting by the dining table, small refreshments waiting for them while Yoongi peacefully read something, and Namjoon was intensely staring at a couple of glowing rocks.

Seokjin’s head suddenly popped into the room from the adjacent study, warm smile already in place.

“How was Jungkook’s first choosing?” he asked eagerly, quickly padding over to the table and sitting down along with a very interested Tae and a smiling Hoseok. And as shaken as Jungkook and Jimin were from the whole afternoon, they noticed a small strain in their thunder’s expressions as well, deepening the concerned feelings already swirling through their own chests.

“We have to talk,” jumped Jimin straight in without a preamble, choosing the least comforting words anyone could ever say. The other dragons in the room didn’t seem to be very surprised though, only indication of the statement being heard was Jin’s soft sigh and the soft thud of Yoongi closing his book and putting it away.

Five sets of eyes trained on them, waiting for the explanation, and Jungkook helplessly looked towards his hyung to start.

“Jungkook found a potential rider,” Jimin started, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face, his own troubled when he finally turned to the others.

“Isn’t that sort of a happy occasion?” Namjoon tested out, but as they all noticed before, the hyungs already seemed to be aware of something happening during the afternoon.

“Well, he just stuck his hand out to her within ten minutes of meeting her,” Jimin suddenly snitched petulantly, leaving Jungkook standing there with his mouth hanging wide open at the betrayal.

“Hyung!” he whined out at the same time as Jin’s horrified “Jungkook!” floated through the room.

“It felt right!” he shouted frustrated, feeling like he’s been endlessly repeating himself forever now and everyone just ignored that and focused on the more blaring fact of him completely disregarding age-old rules and making his potential bond into a public spectacle.

But despite his expectations, Jimin didn’t protest, or even got into a needless fight with him about it. Instead, he looked towards the older dragons, unsure and nervous. All of them were suddenly shifting in their seats, drawn closer by Jimin’s obvious distress and ready to jump in and comfort him at the drop of the hat.

“That’s the thing,” the water dragon whispered, “it did. I felt it too.” Silence set over the room. The rug’s been suddenly pulled from under his feet as he thought back to the moment, to the lighting of pure energy zapping through his entire being, feeling as if his fingers were about to burst into flames. To the moment he finally tore his eyes from Y/N and saw his hyung’s horror and shock, immediately pulling him close to whisper if he was okay as Jungkook just stared and tried to comprehend what happened.

It explained a lot.

“What?” was what came out of his mouth though, “You felt the bond through me?” The man in question silently nodded, opening his mouth and considering whether he should speak more. In the end he sighed and resigned himself to this conversation fully.

“Yeah, I felt it through our bond,” Jimin explained closely, “It was strong enough that even I felt the power of it. It’s never happened to me before. I’d never felt any of your bondings, let alone the first contact.” The troubled expression on the faces of the other dragons doubled and the two finally noticed it.

“Do you know what that means?” the question was aimed towards Yoongi and Namjoon who had arguably the most knowledge on most things, and if they didn’t know it currently, they definitely had a book detailing it, but everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably. Jungkook started having the sense of what must have happened.

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” he whispered, the disbelief creeping into his tired voice. There was a beat of silence, a slight hesitation and then Yoongi nodded.

“Yes, but it wasn’t anywhere near as strong as what you said,” the black-haired man explained, voice soothing to attempt and calm the rising emotions, “it was more like an echo of what you two were experiencing.”

For a moment they all just let that information sink in, exchanging nervous glances. Hoseok released a long deep breath, drawing the attention to himself.

“So Jungkookie felt a pull towards someone, immediately went ahead and established a connection and everyone felt an amount of an echo of it through the bond,” he summarised, gesturing towards the two solemn bookworms sitting at the head of the table, “and I’m assuming you’ve also never heard of anything like that happening.”

Both of them shook their head at the same time, and their synchronisation would have been adorable if it wasn’t for the heavy atmosphere in the room.

“What do we do then?” Tae broke the silence tentatively, looking around everyone with his deep soothing eyes.

“Well,” Seokjin sighed again, slapping one hand on the table and startling poor Yoongi that was up to that point lost in thought sitting next to him, “We keep an eye on the bond. Jungkook, you just go about it as normally as possible. Jimin, you tag along with him and observe. Yoongi, Namjoon, please tell me you know where to dig up information about this?” Namjoon hummed thoughtfully, golden eyes glazing over in the same way they always did when he started mentally going through the never-ending catalogue of books they’ve managed amass in their hoard over the centuries.

“I’m certain we have a whole section of the library about bonds, it is a very researched subject, but I don’t remember ever encountering a mention of this,” he said finally, determination setting into his shoulders along with excitement to tackle something that was potentially unknown to them. Even though he’d prefer if this completely new phenomenon happened to someone else and not to his own packmate so he could study it in peace and not worry about them all the time.

Yoongi suddenly stood up, back cracking from being slouched over the table for god knows how long, and he started slowly making his way for his usual travel backpack.

“We have to go back to the den to go through all that though, are you all going to be okay here?” he said, face turning a little softer when he threw a look at his thunder. He was always worrying about them, and they all threw him fond looks back, bringing a slight reddish tint to the top of his ears.

“Of course, the universe won’t fall apart if you’re not here all the time, Yoongi,” Jin sassed him back, but making sure to throw him a little wink in teasing. The black-haired dragon smirked. “You don’t know that,” he rumbled back and then he was swiftly walking out onto the street, leaving Namjoon to scramble out behind him, shouting some apologetic goodbyes as he ran after his hyung.

As the situation settled a little bit and the remaining five sat around the table and played with the prepared food, there was still tension hanging over them. Jungkook especially was lost in thought, wondering about what this meant for him and his fate, and the fate of his mates.

He’d never had a bonded before, he was so far out of his zone here, and it made him nervous that his all-powerful, all-knowing hyungs seemed to be just as surprised by the situation.

His thoughts inevitably carried him to the image of his potential bond, to the expressive eyes screaming out even through the carefully crafted mask of indifference, to the memory of her fighting in the ring. To her kneeling for a dragon and whispering to him softly to make him more comfortable.

He knew Jimin didn’t catch that, too busy being lost in thought and upset about Jungkook’s blunder, and it felt wrong bringing something like that up, but it helped him feel that this person was right to bond with. Jungkook has always been close to his instincts, and currently they were telling him this was where they were supposed to be.

His thunder would disagree, they would scold him and call him too naïve, but against the better judgement of his hyungs, he already felt the beginnings of trust establishing between him and who he hoped would be his rider by the end of the week.

He knew he would go along with this, he only had to persuade the others to believe in him and his instincts too.

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[dragons-and-handcuffs]

Cregan Stark x Reader

The storm and the road block made it seem like it was the worst day in your life, but maybe it was all part of fate's plan that led you to meet Cregan Stark, the kind and caring owner of the inn/pub

Modern AU

The rain pours down in sheets, so heavy it feels like the world outside your windshield has vanished into a blur of water and darkness. Your headlights barely cut through the downpour, and every few seconds, you tighten your grip on the wheel as your tires skim over puddles that splash up against the sides of the car. You glance down at your GPS, trying to get your bearings, but it’s hopeless—everything around you is just an endless stretch of rain-soaked trees and winding roads.

Just when you think you might be lost, you catch sight of the warm glow of lights coming from a building up ahead. It's an inn, a cozy-looking place with soft amber light spilling out from the windows and a sign creaking in the wind. You hesitate for a moment, considering stopping, but you’re so close to your destination—or so you think. With a sigh, you press on.

It isn’t long before you regret that decision. Barely a mile down the road, your path is completely blocked by a massive fallen tree. There’s no way to go around it, and there’s definitely no way you’re moving that thing by yourself. With a sigh of frustration, you check your phone for any signal. Of course, there’s nothing. The storm has cut you off completely.

With little choice, you turn your car around and head back toward the inn. When you finally pull into the gravel lot, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the mad dash to the entrance. You grab the small overnight bag from the passenger seat and step out into the storm.

The moment you’re outside, the rain hits you hard, soaking through your clothes in seconds. By the time you make it to the door, you’re drenched from head to toe. Water drips from your hair, your coat sticks uncomfortably to your skin, and your boots squish with every step as you push open the door and slip inside the inn.

The inside of the pub is warm, filled with the hum of conversation and the rich scent of beer, stew, and wood smoke. The wooden beams overhead, worn from years of weather and patrons, give the place a rustic, inviting charm. You glance around, trying not to look too out of place despite the fact that you’re dripping onto the floor.

The pub is semi-packed with people, a mix of locals and a few travelers like yourself, all gathered around tables and the bar. You scan the room, looking for someone who might be in charge, when your eyes land on him.

Cregan Stark.

He’s standing behind the bar, a tall, broad figure in a flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There’s a towel draped casually over his shoulder, and he’s in the middle of handing a pint of beer to someone when he glances up and sees you. His eyes—a stormy grey, like the skies outside—lock onto yours for a moment, and you feel a jolt of awareness pass between you. When he notices you, his dark eyes linger for a second longer than expected, and his brows lift in mild surprise.

Self-conscious, you brush a damp strand of hair out of your face and look around awkwardly, noticing that you're the only one who’s soaking wet. You approach a man nearby, your voice polite but a bit flustered as you ask where you can find the owner or the person in charge. They point toward Cregan.

You look over again, and this time, he’s watching you more intently. You muster a smile—one that feels almost apologetic for your bedraggled state—and he smiles back, something subtle but warm. You cross the room toward him.

“Hi,” you start, your voice a little breathless from the cold and the nerves. “I was hoping you might have a room available? The storm’s getting worse, and a tree fell down across the road… I’ve been driving all day, and I just really need a place to stay.”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes softening as he takes in your drenched form and the clear exhaustion on your face. Then, he nods with a small, reassuring smile. “I’ve got a room for you,” he says, his voice a deep rumble. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

You follow him up a set of creaky wooden stairs, the smell of old wood and burning logs filling the air. He leads you to a small, cozy room tucked away at the end of the hall. When he opens the door, you immediately notice how homey it feels. There’s a small fireplace in the corner, a tidy bed with a thick quilt, and the soft light of a lantern casting a warm glow. You notice a few personal touches—an old jacket hanging on the back of the door, and a book left on the nightstand. It feels lived-in, like someone’s been staying here, but you don’t question it. It’s perfect.

“I’m sorry for the mess,” Cregan says as he steps inside, lighting the fire for you. “It’s the only room we have left, but it should be warm enough once this gets going.”

You watch as he tends to the fire, the flicker of flames catching the rough edges of his features. There’s something almost comforting in the way he moves, steady and confident, like he’s used to taking care of things, taking care of people.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I really appreciate this. I’m—oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Y/N,” You give your name with an embarrassed smile.

“Cregan,” he replies with a nod. “Nice to meet you.”

The fire crackles to life, filling the room with warmth. Cregan straightens up, dusting his hands off before turning to face you again. “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs. Just come find me,” he says, his voice still low and calm. “Get some rest. You look like you’ve had a long day.”

You offer him a tired but grateful smile. “I have. Thank you, again.”

Cregan nods once more before leaving you to the warmth of the room. As the door clicks shut behind him, you quickly change out of your wet clothes and sink into the bed, feeling the comfort of the quilt wrapping around you. The storm outside grows fiercer, the sound of rain and wind battering against the window, but inside, by the fire, you’re safe and warm.

The night passes peacefully for the most part, but the occasional crack of thunder jolts you awake, leaving you staring at the shadows on the ceiling. It’s unnerving, this wild weather, so different from what you’re used to in the city. But eventually, exhaustion pulls you back under, and you sleep soundly until morning.

When you wake, the fire has burned down to embers, and while the rain continues to fall in a steady drizzle, the storm has passed. You get dressed in something warm and make your way downstairs, hoping to find some breakfast.

You pause on the last step when you spot Cregan, fast asleep in a small nook by the window. His head rests against the wall, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, and there’s a certain peace in the way he sleeps, like he’s used to this, too—staying up late, keeping an eye on things. It’s only when your footsteps creak on the wooden floor that his eyes flicker open.

“Morning,” he says, his voice thick with sleep but still holding that same calm. He stretches slightly as he sits up, and you can’t help but notice how the soft morning light catches in his dark hair, casting him in a gentle glow.

“Good morning,” you reply, your tone warm and polite. You glance toward the nook, feeling a sudden wave of guilt. “Why were you sleeping down here?”

Cregan shrugs, a slight smile playing on his lips. “I gave you my room. Didn’t want you stuck in the storm all night.”

Your heart skips a beat, both at the gesture and the way he says it so casually, as though it were no big deal. “I’m so sorry,” you say quickly, apologizing. “I didn’t realize—”

He holds up a hand to stop you, his smile deepening just a little. “No need to apologize. It was the only room left, and you needed it more than I did.”

You bite your lip, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt. “Thank you, Cregan. Really," you smile anyway. "I should probably get going soon, but—”

Cregan shakes his head. “Road’s still blocked. It’ll take some time before it’s cleared. You’re stuck here for a bit.”

The thought of staying doesn’t seem so bad, not with the cozy warmth of the inn and Cregan’s quiet, reassuring presence. “I guess I’m not going anywhere then,” you say with a small laugh.

Cregan pushes himself up from the nook, rubbing the back of his neck as he moves toward the kitchen. “How about some breakfast? I’ll get something going.”

You follow him into the kitchen, where the space is just as rustic and charming as the rest of the inn. As Cregan begins to pull ingredients from the shelves, you offer to help.

“At least let me do something,” you insist with a smile. “It’s the least I can do after taking up your room.”

Cregan glances at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Alright,” he concedes. “If you insist.."

Before you know it, you’ve taken over most of the cooking, quickly falling into a rhythm, chopping vegetables and preparing food with a practiced ease. Cregan watches you with quiet amusement as you take over the stove, his eyes lingering on your movements.

“You’re pretty good at this,” he comments, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed.

You glance up at him, your cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment. “I’ve always loved cooking,” you admit, focusing on the pan in front of you. “It’s just… relaxing.”

Cregan nods, watching as you move with precision and skill. He doesn’t say much, but there’s a quiet appreciation in his eyes as he steps aside, letting you take control of the kitchen.

It isn’t until you hand him a plate of food that you realize what you’ve done. You pause, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, “I didn’t mean to—”

Cregan smiles, cutting off your apology with a soft chuckle. “Don’t apologize,” he says, taking the plate from you. “No one’s cooked for me in years. This is a nice change.”

The breakfast passes in quiet companionship, the clinking of forks against plates the only sound between you. Cregan sits across from you at the small, wooden table, his dark eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours. There’s something calming about him—his steady presence, his unhurried movements. He doesn’t fill the silence with idle chatter, but when he speaks, his voice is warm and genuine, his words always just enough.

“So,” Cregan starts after a few bites, his tone casual but curious, “what brings you to this part of the country in the middle of a storm?”

You take a moment, chewing thoughtfully before answering. “My great-aunt had a house not far from here. She passed away recently, and it was left to me. I was planning to fix it up and sell it, but…” You gesture to the window, the rain still tapping softly against the glass. “The weather had other plans.”

Cregan’s expression shifts slightly, like he’s searching through memories. “I think I know the place,” he says after a moment. “Old stone house, right? Near the edge of the woods?”

You nod, surprised. “That’s the one. You know it?”

He nods back, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Did some construction work there a few years back. Just small stuff—repairs on the roof, fixed up some windows. It’s a nice place, though. Needs some care, but it’s solid.”

His knowledge of the house comforts you in a way you didn’t expect. “That’s good to know,” you say, smiling a little. “I was worried I’d show up and find it falling apart.”

Cregan chuckles softly. “It’s seen better days, but nothing too bad and that place has a lot of history.”

His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. “Really?”

He smiles faintly. “Yeah, old places like that need a lot of upkeep, but it’s got character. I imagine it must be pretty overwhelming, though—handling all that on your own.”

You shrug, but there’s a truth to his words. “It is,” you admit. “I’ve never taken on a project like this before, but… it feels right to try. It’s strange,” you continue after a beat, “being in a place I’ve never known but somehow connected to through family.”

Cregan watches you with a thoughtful expression. “I get that,” he says quietly. “Sometimes, places have a way of pulling you in, whether you mean for them to or not.”

His words resonate with you more than you expected. You’re struck by how easy it feels to talk to him, how naturally the conversation flows between you. There’s a quiet understanding between you both, even though you’ve only just met.

“Do you have family around here?” you ask, curious about the man who’s been so kind to you.

Cregan shakes his head. “No,” he replies, a small, wistful smile playing on his lips. “Grew up around here, but it’s just me now. The inn’s been in my family for generations, though. Figured I’d stick around and keep it running.”

There’s a beat of quiet before he asks, “So, are you planning to stick around for a while?”

You shrug, stirring your tea absentmindedly. “That depends on how long it takes to get the house in order. I hadn’t planned on staying long, but…” You glance out the window again, the rain still falling in a steady, rhythmic pattern. “It seems like I don’t have much of a choice right now.”

Cregan nods thoughtfully. “The roads will be blocked for a bit. We’re used to it around here, though—it’ll clear up soon enough.”

You offer him a small smile. “I guess I’ll have to get used to it too.”

There’s something easy about being with him. The conversation flows naturally, without effort. His quiet presence is calming, and despite the storm raging outside, you feel a sense of peace you hadn’t expected. He’s not just some stranger running an inn; there’s a depth to him, something steady and kind beneath the rugged exterior.

When the plates are empty, you help him clear the table, insisting that it’s the least you can do after taking over his kitchen.

As you stand by the sink, washing the dishes together, you feel his gaze on you again, and when you glance over, you catch him watching you with a small, amused smile.

“What?” you ask, a laugh escaping your lips.

He shrugs, leaning against the counter. “Just not used to having someone help out around here,” he says. “It’s… nice.”

You dry your hands and turn to face him fully, your smile lingering. “Well, I’m not used to storms like this, or being stranded in small inns, so I guess we’re both out of our element.”

He chuckles, the sound low and pleasant. “Seems like it.”

The rain outside begins to let up, and the inn feels warmer, and cozier now that you’ve shared a meal and conversation with Cregan. There’s a comfort in the quiet moments, a sense of calm that settles over you.

Just as you’re about to say something, the door to the inn opens, and a gust of wind sweeps in along with a couple of drenched locals seeking shelter from the rain. Cregan straightens, pushing off the counter with a nod toward you.

“Duty calls,” he says with a smile, his tone teasing but gentle. “I’ll check in with you later, alright?”

You nod, returning his smile. “Thanks, Cregan.”

As he heads back toward the bar, you linger in the kitchen for a moment longer, your thoughts still on the quiet connection that had sparked between you. It’s subtle, but it’s there—something warm and easy, something that feels like the beginning of something good.

For the first time since the storm began, you feel like maybe getting stranded here wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

What the Gods Gave Us

fancast!benji blackwood x targ!fem!reader

apocalypse asoiaf/f&b au 

Summary: The Gods chose their own side during the dance of the dragons and decided to cast the realm into winter and death. Only three dragons remain alive to see the fruition of Aegon the Conquers dream. 

Warnings: 18+ mentions of death, death, swearing, blood, fingering, p in v, heavy au, plot heavy

Authors Note: a request from @chainsawsangel that I absolutely got carried away with :) in reality I should’ve made this multiple parts but fuck that we gots to see it thru

Word Count: 9k just be chill about it 

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When the dance began the Gods looked down upon us and frowned. They cast the world into winter and allowed death to come from above the wall. No one was spared from what broke down the barrier in the north and came flooding through. It didn’t happen slowly. In under a week the entire realm was cast in snow and bitter winds. Sicknesses wiped out entire houses. Noble and low born families alike were torn apart and scattered across the wastelands that used to once be the great seven kingdoms of Westeros. 

Winter took our entire family and most of our dragons. The only remaining Targaryens in this world are me and my two brothers. When the snow started sticking our mother sent us and our dragons to hide within the crumbling walls of Harrenhal. The only place that seems to be untouched from decay here is the weirwood. Its eyes follow us as we walk across the grounds as it pours buckets of blood from its eyes. There’s an old kind of magic about this fallen castle that deters the white walkers from entering. 

The only other living creature here is Alys Rivers who only speaks in riddles and hides herself away in her chambers with her potions and ramblings. We try to avoid her but we’ve made her an honorary member of our family. She cooks and cares for us and we offer her protection and go out and get supplies. Today’s supply run has us traveling to Ironmans bay. She’s seeking a specific plant that only grows on the coast of the Iron Islands. 

“Why must I stay here with her?” Luke whines pleading with me and Jace to come with.

“You are young and so is your dragon. We’re not risking it. Taking two dragons out is as big of a calling card that we can deal with.” Jaces voice does not falter as he orders Luke to stay. 

“Mother said we’re supposed to stick together.” Luke looks between the both of us with sad eyes. 

“We always come back.” I cup his cheek hoping to offer him comfort.

“Please come back.” Luke’s eyes water as he pulls us into a hug. 

It’s never my want to leave him behind but I would much rather have him here than out there with us. Jace and I cover ourselves with white fur and leave the main hall. Our dragons chuff to us as we mount and take to the skies. We always fly in the clouds if we’re able. We don’t want to announce our moves during these trying times. We fly over countless pyres. I’m thankful our word got out that the one way to kill these things is fire and we have the biggest weapon against them. 

The flight to the coast is quick and freezing. We land on the shores and pull out a rough drawing of the plant that Alys gave us. Jace curses under his breath and kicks the snow away. It took a lot of convincing on my end for him not to kill or kick Alys out of Harrenhal when we first arrived. He’s been so angry at the world and I get it. I’m living in this frozen hell with him and I’m slowly losing hope as the moons pass. 

“I don’t care about her stupid fucking plants. We could be using our time differently.” he crosses his arms standing next to Vermax. 

“Using our time to do what Jace? What else could we possibly be doing? If you want to go sulk around that crumbling castle then go.” my voice rises with my anger. 

His breath clouds in front of him as he sighs and begins to look for the plants we’re here for. I hear a groan of string and wood and fall to the ground as I hear the arrow coast through the breeze. I turn and see Jace rising from the ground unsheathing his sword. I turn and see a handful of men running towards us and another bursts out from the tree line and starts cutting them down one by one. Jace and I look to each other before we turn back to the man who was so ready to lay his life down for us. 

“That’s close enough.” Jace raises his blade to the man walking towards us who stops and falls to one knee. 

“I swore fealty to your mother and that extends to her children as well. My sword is yours.” he bows his head and I turn to Jace. 

“What do we need your fealty for? What do you think we’re ruling over? Death and decay?” the man’s head pulls up as he looks beyond as at our dragons. 

“If anyone could bring the realm back together it would be the dragons. It was word from your mouths that fire will kill them no?” he rises to his full height. 

“What is it that you want?” Jaces voice calls over to him. 

“Shelter and safety. These Bracken cunts slaughtered the last of my men. I’ve been hunting them down for days now.” he turns to them and lets sparks rain upon them as their bodies go up in flame.

“And what is your name?” I raise my chin looking him over. 

“Benjicot Blackwood.” he bows his head once more. 

“What is it that you can offer us if we take you with us?” I ask assessing him. 

“I have no dragon or dragon flame but I have a sword and flint and they offer the same results.” he holds his sword out with both hands offering it to us. 

“I say we burn him and leave.” Jace says from my side and my eyes bulge. 

“Why would we do that? He’s just one person. Surely we can use his hands and sword.” I try to reason with him. 

“I’m sure you would like to use his sword.” he sneers at me and it takes all my strength not to punch him in the face. 

“I will cut your tongue out if you speak to me like that again.” I hiss back to him. 

“If you want him then search him and see if your dragon will allow him to ride back with you. I’m not dealing with this.” he waves me off and walks back to his dragon. 

“Alright, let’s go.” I nod my head for Benjicot to come to me. “I will search your pack and person and then we will see if my dragon will allow you to ride him and then we’ll go back to where we stay.” I hold out my hand expectantly. 

“Where is it that you stay?” he hands me his pack and my hands stop searching as I see the plants Alys is looking for. 

“What are you doing with these plants?” I look to him with scrunched brows. 

“They help staunch the never ending hunger.” he tilts his head. 

“Very well, do you have anything on your person that I need to be concerned about?” I close the bag and toss it back to him. 

“You can come let your hands roam all over me and find out for yourself.” he smirks unabashed. “The only thing you might find concerning is how much you enjoy it.” I gasp at his words as a laugh falls from my lips. 

“You are very bold.” I offer him a smile of my own as I feel my body heat. “Let’s see if you get to come home with me or become a meal for my dragon.” I hum and he chuckles lowly walking to my side. 

My dragon looks over him licking his teeth. I don’t know if it’s boldness or lack of care for his life but he walks up to my dragon and holds his hands out. My dragon seems as taken aback as I am and looks to me and huffs. I shrug my shoulders and walk past Benjicot to his wing. 

“Well are you coming, Benjicot?” I turn raising my eyebrow to him. 

“You can call me Benji.” he smiles walking to my side with confidence in his step. 

Vermax and Jace shoot to the skies and we’re close behind them. Benji holds onto my sides tightly and I welcome in the extra warmth. The chill goes to the bone once the sun begins to set and I’m thankful for our quick flight back to our crumbling fortress. Benji slides down after me and Jace scoffs before strutting into the main doors. 

“You’ve found the plants.” she looks to Benji and I look to her confused but not surprised that she knew of Benji from all her self proclaimed premonitions that I’m starting to believe more of everyday.

“This is-“ 

“Benjicot.” Alys nods her head taking his pack and disappearing with it leaving us confused. 

“She’s an interesting woman.” Benji says chuckling. 

“Who is this?” Luke bounds down the stairs and looks to Benji.

“Benji Blackwood. We found him wandering.” I offer. 

“Jace isn’t happy.” Luke says looking to me. 

“I’m well aware.” I roll my eyes and turn to Benji. “Come let’s find you a room.” he trails after me as we walk deeper into the castle. 

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It has been just over a moon since we brought Benji back and Jace hasn’t gotten anymore welcoming. Luke on the other hand has taken a liking to him and it warms my heart to see Luke smile and laugh again. I want this for Jace but I don’t think he wants it for himself and that’s why he closes in on himself. I keep wanting to talk to Jace about Benjis words to us when we first met him. How us and our dragons could bring the realm back together. I talk about this a lot with Benji and he’s told me that there are survivors out there who believe this as well. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop and even have entertained the idea with Alys. 

“What do you propose?” Alys hums as I sit at the stone table while she’s crushing plants. 

“I don’t know. Something. We can’t possibly live like this forever. There has to be something we can do.” I try to search her eyes for any clue of to what she’s thinking. 

“The Gods are angry.” she offers me an unsettling smile. 

“They’ve taken it out on the realm what else is there left for them to take?” I ask exasperated. 

“They can take anything they please.” she hums moving around the table. 

“There has to be something we can do to change the tides. Are we not of the line that is supposed to end this war? Is the song of ice and fire truly just a tale?” I nibble on my bottom lip and she turns quickly to me. 

“So you know?” she raises an eyebrow. 

“Of the dream, yes, but what are we to do? There’s only three of us.” I sigh rubbing my forehead. 

“Return to Dragonstone and retrieve the glass.” her words ominous. 

“What glass?” I ask tilting my head. 

“Beneath the castle. You’ll know it when you find it.” she waves me off. “Bring both of your brothers and Benjicot.” she adds as I exit. 

As I walk up the stairs to find them my mind races with the confirmation Alys just gave me. I know Jace is going to scold me but I truly believe this with my being. I find Jace and Luke lounging in front of the great hearth. Benji is sat on the other side of the room near the window gazing out. I call Benji over near the fire and begin to tell them of my conversation with Alys and what we must do.

“You’re just as mad as her if you think I’m coming with you.” Jace scoffs at me.

“This is our chance to try and set things right. We’re the last dragons. Mother told us of the song of ice and fire and you want to ignore that? Winter is here. She chose you as her heir for a reason. Start acting like it.” I rise along with my temper. 

“You think a story will save us now?” he tosses his head back and laughs. 

“There’s no harm in trying, we either sit here and starve to death or try to do something. We can find the other survivors, unite the realm once more. We can kill these things, brother. We can set the realm back to how it was supposed to be, together, as a family.” I plead with him trying to show him reason. 

“Do you include your stray in our family now?” he shoots Benji a dirty look. 

“My stray has a name and he has been nothing but kind to you. Why do you despise him so much?” I shake my head at his ridiculousness. 

“Because he feeds your obsession about saving the realm when it’s already a frozen wasteland beyond repair.” Jace turns to Luke for support who avoids his eyes. “Oh you believe this too?” he chuckles to himself at a loss.

“What harm will it cause to go home for one day. Remember what used to be, what could be again.” Luke speaks softly. 

“One day.” Jace says looking to me. 

“Just one.” I nod my head. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The stone walls have never felt more cold than they do now in this abandoned castle. The wind seems to whisper as we pass through the empty halls sharing the story of our downfall. This once great castle brimming with life and happiness now offers us a cold embrace. Our dragons rumble beneath the floors from the pits and I allow myself to remember how lively these halls once were. Our home taken by fate.

“I’m going to my chambers. Let me know when you’ve found what you’re looking for so we can get off this freezing rock.” Jace bounds up the stairs out of sight. 

“Go after him.” I nod to Luke not wanting Jace to feel so alone and unheard. I sigh pulling my furs around me. Benji walks over to me and rubs his hands on my arms trying to warm me up some.

“Do you think I sound crazy, Benji?” I look to him with furrowed brows.

“We walk alongside death, Princess. I don’t think there’s anything crazy about wanting for something better.” he offers me a reassuring smile. 

“Then we must go to the pits.” I turn walking to the stairs. 

I hear him a step behind me and smile. Benji stops to light a torch for us and we enter the dark cave. I get us quickly to the bottom and we start through the small tunnels. I plunge us deeper as the air gets cooler. The torch catches on an opening showing us something dark and glossy. A smile spreads across my face as I take in the shimmering rock. 

“Dragon glass.” I turn to Benji. 

“How much does she want?” he asks looking at the massive trove in front of us.

“I’m assuming as much as us our dragons can carry.” I crane my neck to see the extent of the obsidian walls. 

“Do you think Jace will carry some?” he asks my thoughts out loud.

“I will make him. I believe in this and him. He is King even if he doesn’t speak it.” my voice hushed. “Do you think if he calls the survivors will answer?” I look to him as he looks at me with admiration. 

“Who would be bold enough not to answer the dragons call?” he chuckles. “I believe in what you say. You are a good sister, a good person, to keep faith in him when he doesn’t even have it for himself.” his words have me thanking Alys  for sending me to find those plants. 

“Thank you, Benji.” my voice barely a whisper as I look to him. 

“You are strong and resilient and any smart man knows there’s always a woman holding the realm together.” his words cause a welcome warmth to my cheeks. 

“I fear the realm has fallen apart.” I look away.

“You didn’t set that in motion. You are helping reclaim and rebuild. You will never have to carry that weight alone as long as I breathe.” my eyes see the sincerity across his features. 

“Thank you, Benji.” I cup his cheek before leading us out of the caves once more to find my brothers. 

They both groan at diving into the pits with me and Benji but follow nonetheless. Their eyes alight with wonder as they look around the obsidian cave. Jace places a hand on one of the rocks jutting from the ground and a warm breeze comes from deep within the ground. Just as quick as the warmth spreads it is replaced with ice. 

“What is it you want me to do?” Jace turns to me. 

“We need to mine as much of this as we can and bring it back with us.” I search Jaces face to see his mood. 

“This seems as if it will take more than the day I was promised.” Jace sighs. 

“We can figure it out. We can get you and Vermax loaded up first and you can go back to Harrenhal tonight if you want.” my eyes pleading. 

“I can stay and help.” a smile starts to spread across my face. “Don’t get too excited.” he glares at me and I have to bite my lip from smiling even wider. 

“Let’s go find some tools and start moving this out of the caves.” I nod my head leading us to the armory. 

As I push the doors to the armory open the castle seems to let out a breath it was holding since before this never ending winter. We all walk in and look around to find tools and carts. On the center table I spot two swords and a dagger with a parchment containing our mother’s handwriting. I call Jace and Luke over as we read her last words to us. 

My sweet children- 

Should you find this letter and our family blades it means you know what must be done now. My father always believed the song of ice and fire to be true and now I see that it is. The realms fate is left to you three. Jacaerys, I leave you Catspaw, the blade passed down to heirs over the years. Luke, my sweet boy, I leave you Blackfyre, do not allow anyone to underestimate you. Y/n, I leave you Dark Sister, that has been wielded by the strongest of us. Get the dragon glass and call the realm together. I’m sorry I’ve left this burden on you three. I love you, you were always the best of me.

-Mother

We look to each other with tear filled eyes and hold on to one another tightly. We sniffle and settle our breathing before nodding to one another. As we all grab for the blades we feel another warm breeze kiss across our faces. We turn and see Benji staring at us in awe. He shakes his head at a loss and falls to his knee. 

“The remaining dragons shall save us and cast the winter out of the realm.” he bows his head to us. 

“Rise, Benji. We have work to do.” Jace nods his head and I try to hide my smile that he called Benji by his name for the first time. 

We begin to pick up axes and shovels and toss them into carts. We make our way back down to the caves with a new sense of purpose. The next couple of hours are filled with grunts and curses at the hard rock. We take turns carting it to our dragons who look at us curiously as they curl up together. The energy we’re exuding actually has us hot for once and we take a break to walk the grounds. We end up standing in front of the weirwood as it stares back at us. The blood tears seem to still be ever flowing but less than what we’ve seen at Harrenhal. 

We decide to rest for the night and go about sourcing wood for a fire. After splitting up the frozen soup Alys sent us with we heat it over a fire in the main hall. We eat silently and quickly ready to sleep and start tomorrow anew. We each grab some wood and part ways and head for our chambers. As I’m making my way to my chambers I notice Benji is still trailing after me. 

“Where are you going?” I turn and raise an eyebrow to him. 

“To your chambers?” he tilts his head as if it was obvious. 

“I don’t remember inviting you.” I chuckle shaking my head. 

“It’s cold. We should share a bed. It’s the smart thing to do.” the smile that spreads across his face is serpentine. 

“Where is this concern when we’re at Harrenhal?” I smile before continuing down the hall to my chambers. 

“Are you asking me to move into your chambers with you?” he purrs quickening his pace to walk at my side. 

“We’ll see how tonight goes.” I hum as I push my chamber doors open and sigh at the familiar sight. 

“If there’s anything you need or want of me don’t hesitate to ask.” he says lowly before going to the stone hearth and starting a fire.

“Let’s move the mattress next to the hearth.” I toss the wood on the floor along with my bags. 

“Mm, how romantic.” he rises from the hearth and looks down to me. 

“It’s so we can be warmer.” I glare up at him. 

“I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry.” he strokes the side of my cheek before stepping around me and walking to the bed. I turn to him with red cheeks and cross my arms. “Stop pouting and come help me.” he chuckles. 

I flare my nostrils and walk over to my bed. I push my blankets and furs to the center and grab the edge of the bed to lift it. Benji lifts his side and we drop it on the ground a couple feet back from the hearth. I turn and look around my chambers taking them in. I never thought I would see these walls again. I pull Dark Sister from its sheath and place it on the table and look upon it. 

“A powerful weapon for a powerful woman.” Benji comes from behind me and looks over my shoulder. 

“I hope I’m not sending us all to our doom.” I whisper turning to him. 

“If you are, I will gladly stand by your side.” his voice doesn’t carry its usual playful demeanor. 

“Do you think we can do it?” I search his eyes. 

“I do.” he nods his head. “It will be hard but we’ve endured this far.” we slowly begin to lean into each other’s body heat. 

“Thank you for believing in me and not thinking I’m crazy.” I look up to him as our chests are almost touching. 

“I never said I didn’t think you were crazy, I said your idea wasn’t crazy.” a smile splits across his face and I push him back. 

“You’re such an asshole, you can-“ 

He pulls me into a rough kiss and I completely forget why I was angry. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and my arms wrap around his back holding him to me. One of his hands tangles into my hair holding my lips against his. His other hand holds my lower back molding me to him. We stay tangled in each other until we both pull back panting. 

“What were you saying?” he says lowly with his smirk back on his face. 

“Now I’m saying you’re an arrogant asshole and you can find somewhere else to sleep.” I glare up to him before looking at his lips and he chuckles catching the movement. 

“Want to try again and sound like you mean it?” his words taunting me. 

“Benji,” I warn huffing. 

“Hm?” he licks his lips and I roll my eyes at him brushing past him to the mattress. 

His hand reaches out and grabs my arm. He turns me towards him. I look up to him expectantly waiting for him to say or do something. I relent and start to reach up to capture his lips once more, over his games and he tips his head up making me chase his lips out of my reach. 

“I didn’t take you as such a tease. Or maybe you can’t get it hard?” I try to pull my arm out of his grasp but he just tightens his fingers. 

When he captures my lips this time it’s bruising and takes my breath away. His hands begin to pull off my clothes. When his rough hands meet my flesh I gasp into his mouth. I start to push off his clothes and he helps quicken the process. When our skin presses together I sigh at the warmth. We don’t separate as we fall to the mattress in a clash of tongues and teeth. He kisses down my jaw and I arch up into him gasping as I feel his hardened length slide against my wetness. 

“Benji,” I mewl as he rubs against my bud. 

“Hush,” he says before pushing into me. 

My breath catches at the stretch of him. He chuckles looking at my scrunched brows as I squirm beneath him. He slowly starts to rock into me until my moans become broken. His hips snap into mine and I feel my pleasure begin to coil. As he wraps my legs around his waist he starts a brutal pace. I throw my head back into the pillow as my hips meet his. I come undone around him and he grunts but keeps his pace. 

“Is my cock hard enough for you, Princess?” he dips down to whisper in my ear as he continues to rut into me. 

“Yes, Benji please,” I cry out feeling my high quickly approaching again. 

Our breaths come out in pants as we chase our highs. He rolls his hips into me and I whimper as he brushes against my sensitive bud. His trusts begin to falter as I start to pulse around him. He stills as I feel his warmth fill me. He brings his lips to mine as we still try to catch our breath. He rolls off of me placing one more kiss on my forehead. He pulls the furs over us and pulls me to his chest. 

“Do you still think I’m an asshole?” I roll my eyes and turn over putting my back to him. 

“I must’ve not fucked you hard enough if you’re still pouting.” he pulls me back to his chest. 

“I’m limited on options.” as the words leave my mouth his hand lands on my backside hard making me jolt into him. 

“Go to bed before I decide you don’t need any sleep.” his voice low as we hold each other tightly to ward off the cold.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Over the past three days we’ve been able to collect as much dragon glass as our dragons can carry. I’m thankful to finally get back to Harrenhal because we’re low on food and supplies. As we make our way to our dragons my brother and I look back at our home. None of us are brave enough to say goodbye or even to express hope to return again someday. We know the path ahead now is victory or peril. 

The flight back to Harrenhal feels as if it takes forever. Once we land Alys sweeps out through the main gates and looks us all over. She assesses the dragon glass and nods in approval at the amount we got. She ushers us inside and pours us tea and hot soup. 

“I’ve begun sending word around the realm that their King calls for them.” she says this as if it’s just another daily task. 

“Alys,” Jace sighs. “What was the message? We should’ve planned this together.” he shakes his head. 

“This has been planned long before you were born, boy. I’ve been waiting for you to stop throwing your tantrums to start moving the plans into place.” Alys turns to him with a motherly tone. 

“And where are you calling these survivors to rally?” Jace sets his spoon down completely abandoning his soup. 

“Winterfell, of course.” Alys tosses over her shoulder before returning to her poultices.

“Are there any survivors that far north?” Luke asks shaking his head.

“The one who carries Ice still lives.” she doesn’t even deign to turn around.

“How is it that you know all this? The ravens don’t carry messages anymore.” I ask my eyes boring into her back.

“There’s another raven that still carries messages if you know how to listen. The trees whisper too, I’m surprised you haven’t heard them.” she hums absentmindedly. 

“I need proof that there is reason for us to pack up and go north. The winds are surely deadly that far up.” Jace takes a sip of tea.

“Then follow me.” Alys’ skirts swish out of the hall and we all get up and trail after her. She takes us out to the Godswood and we stand in front of the crying weirwood. “Do any other of you have a lack of faith in the song of ice and fire?” she turns and assesses us. 

I turn to look at Luke and Benji and they both seem contented that the song is absolute certainty. We all turn to Jace who has a pout back on his face still not convinced. Alys smiles and gestures for him to come closer. She reaches for his hand and he reluctantly gives it to her. When she places his hand on the tree it feels as if the sun is shining on us for the first time in moons. When I look up I still see the same overcast sky and sigh.

Jace has gone completely still as the blood flows over his hands. His eyes are watering as his features go blank. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain but I’m still concerned for him nonetheless. I go to rest my hand on him and Alys stops me. 

“Do not interrupt this. He’ll be fine.” she whispers and I step back to Benji and Luke. 

Luke clings to me as we wait for Jace to come back to the present. The minutes drag on for what feels like hours. Benji comes to my other side and rests his head on my shoulder and I drink in his warmth. We huddle together and our spines straighten as Jace inhales deeply.

“It’s true.” he turns to us with tears streaming down his face as he pulls us into a hug. 

“What happened?” I pull back so I can assess him.

“I saw.” his voice still far off. “I saw everything.” he pulls Catspaw from his belt and holds it between us. 

“To Winterfell?” I search his eyes.

“To Winterfell.” Jace nods and walks past us back into the crumbling castle with a new found sense of purpose.

“What of you, Alys?” I turn to her and she smiles. 

“I will be there should you need me.” she hums walking past us into the castle after Jace.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

We stop every night on the way to Winterfell. Our dragons can only handle the chill for so long. We have them scorch the lands around us encircling us in a wall of flame. We are hoping to see some of the survivors Alys has talked about but the road has been silent. We curl up on the frozen ground clinging to one another for warmth. Sleep only offers us a reprieve for a couple of hours before we’re back in the wind. 

“How much longer?” Luke whines as he hugs onto Arrax. 

“If we push through we could make it a couple hours after moonrise.” Jace hums trying to see how we feel. 

“We can load up on furs. If Arrax can support him I’ll send Benji with you to help keep the chill off.” I nod trying to get us to Winterfell as soon as possible. I don’t know if we can survive another night outside in these temperatures, no matter how much fire our dragons supply. 

“You don’t have to baby me, Y/n.” Luke groans rolling his eyes at me. 

“You are a baby, Luke.” Jace laughs and I look to him with a smile of my own. I haven’t heard his genuine laugh in so long.

We decide on giving Luke as many of our furs that he could wear and still see. Arrax didn’t take too kindly to Benji and we didn’t want to stress anyone out. I give him more furs than Jace because I’ll have Benji behind me to help retain my heat. We mount the dragons and push forward to Winterfell. 

As the sun sets behind the clouds the temperature drops almost instantly. My muscles tense as I lean back into Benji. He opens his jacket and pulls me against his chest. He buries his head into my neck and I feel my body heat as his hair tickles me. He offers soft kisses to my neck that help distract me as the wind bites. 

As the hours drag by my body begins to shake trying to make its own heat. I look worriedly to my brothers who are probably in the same state and they don’t have someone to offer them extra warmth. I bury my head in my hands trying to regain feeling on my cheeks and nose. 

“We’re about an hour out. Once we’re in our chambers I’ll make sure you’re so hot you’ll be begging to go roll in the snow.” his words brush my ears and my entire body heats. I lean back appreciatively and excited about the warmth he’s offering. 

I fill my mind with thoughts of the man behind me and soon the blush on my face is heating my extremities. His arms wrap tighter around me as if he’s doing the same thing. Our bodies mend together pulling heat from one another. The walls of Winterfell finally come into view and I let out a choked sob. I see there are torches lit and it looks as if the integrity of this castle has still remained intact. Our dragons land inside the gates and burn the ground before us and I sigh in relief at the warmth as it licks at us.

“Welcome back, Your Grace.” a northern man with a large sword down his back approaches us.

“Lord Stark.” Jace nods his head before they laugh and hug each other.

“I’mglad that you guys are reunited but I would like to be reunited with warmth.” I say with a bite in my voice as Benji laughs next to me.

“Of course,” Cregan nods his head and we enter the warm halls quickly. 

“How is this the warmest place we’ve been in moons?” I sigh bringing my hands to the fire. 

“It was built to withstand the winter. After all, it’s always winter up here, Princess.” Cregan smiles to me. “We also have hot springs that should help you defrost and if that doesn’t help I’m sure we could find another way.” he chuckles as my red cheeks and Benji comes up to my side promptly. 

“We would love to try the hot springs.” Benji smiles to Cregan before wrapping his arm around me. Cregan brushes this off and walks back over to Jace and Luke. He leads us to the guest chambers. Benji tells him that he’s sharing with me and I roll my eyes at his dramatics. 

“Then I guess I won’t offer you a place in my chambers.” Cregan leans down and whispers into my ear. As he pulls back my cheeks are tinted and Benji is fuming next to me. “Someone will be up here shortly to bring you to the hot springs.” he smirks at me before shutting the door.

“Are you serious?” Benji turns me towards him.

“What?” I tilt my head still flushed from Cregans words.

“You’re lucky I didn’t take you in front of him.” he growls pulling me to him. 

“Benji,” I gasp as he starts pulling my furs off. “It was harmless.” he starts to pull off my shirt and I bite my lip as his hands find my skin.

“Harmless? He all but asked you to fuck in front of me.” he says through his teeth as he lifts my shirt off. 

“He did not.” I say hushed as his hands slide up my bare skin.

“What did he say that had you blushing?” he fingers brush against my nipples and a whimper falls from my mouth.

“He said,” I gasp as he pinches one of my nipples. “He said he was going to offer me a place in his chambers.” my hands rest on his arms as he continues to fondle across my chest.

“Is that what you want?” I shake my head at his words. “Tell me whose bed you want to be in.” his voice low as his hand dips beneath my waistband. 

“Benji,” I cling to him as his fingers spread my wetness. 

“Go find a robe.” I whine as he removes his hand. “Someone should be here to bring us to the hot springs soon.” he leaves me squeezing my thighs together. 

I huff and walk over to the wardrobe hoping there was something left. I sigh thankful that there are some robes left over. I slide my trousers down my legs and quickly wrap myself in the robe. I turn and toss Benji a robe and try not to let my eyes linger on his exposed torso. He starts to unlace his trousers and I look to him with low lids as he chuckles at me. He slides them off and I squeeze my thighs once more taking in the length of him. There’s a knock on the door and Benji is quickly slipping the robe on and walking to the door. 

“It seems as if I’m the only one left awake to take you both.” Cregan takes up our doorway and I internally groan. 

“Mm, of course.” Benji exhales grabbing my hand and pulling me to his side. 

The walk through the castle is silent and I can feel Benjis frustration pouring off of him. I squeeze his hand to try and get him to focus on anything else but he keeps his eyes focused on Cregans back. We start down a stone staircase and as we enter the cavern I sigh as the warm air kisses my face. I see that there’s more than enough space for the three of us to be here comfortably. I walk past them both and begin to dip into the water. Once my bottom half is in the water I slip off my robe and sink beneath and let out a breathy moan. 

I close my eyes as I let the hot water soothe my muscles. I sink lower into the water and I feel it ripple next to me. I peek an eye open and see that Benji has claimed a seat next to me. The water shifts again and I see that Cregan has also gotten in. I sit back up and feel the tension in the water and roll my eyes. Benjis hand falls to my thigh and my head snaps to him. 

“So are you guys together?” Cregans voice carries across the stone walls and I groan knowing this will set Benji off.

“Yes.” he says as his fingers grip on my thigh spreading them open. 

“Mm, how long?” Cregan looks to me as Benjis fingers slide to my core.

“Couple moons now.” I try to keep my voice steady as he swirls around my bud. 

“Where did you find her?” Cregan shifts to Benji and I’ve never been more thankful as he dips a finger into me. 

“Near the Iron Islands. I saved her and Jace from some Bracken beasts.” Benji narrows his eyes at Cregan as he pushes a second finger into me and a moan slips out. I try to cover it by clearing my throat but I can tell Cregan caught it. 

“Do you both need some privacy?” Cregan chuckles at my red cheeks and Benji keeps pushing his fingers into me. 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Benji uses a patronizing tone. “She’s been begging for my cock since we started the journey here.” he chuckles and I snap my head to him ready to scold him until his thumb rubs against my bud and I’m hoping that Cregan will leave soon because I can’t contain the whimpers leaving my lips. 

“Treat her well. Or I will.” Cregan chuckles again before standing out of the water unabashed. Benji starts moving his fingers faster and I try to close my legs around his hand. 

“Benji.” I mewl as he continues with his motions.

“She’s content here.” Benji chuckles waving Cregan off. 

“Are you done now?” I pant at Benji.

“Not even close.” he growls as he flips me so my chest is against the cool stone. “Gunna fuck you here because I know he’s listening on the stairs.” he breathes into my neck as he lifts my hips.

“You sound paranoid.” I turn to look at his dark eyes as I spread my legs open for him. 

“I don’t care.” he pushes into me in one movement and I rest my cheek against the stone. 

Moans begin pouring from my lips as the water laps against us. His pace is quick and I have no hope of covering the curses and whines that fall from my mouth. The second his fingers brush against my bud my body goes taught. He continues to push into me as my high spreads through me. My hips push back into his as I continue to chase more pleasure.

“You like when I fuck you like a common whore?” he pulls me up against him and wraps his fingers around my neck.

“Fuck, Benji, please,” I whine as my chest heaves. 

The hand that he has supporting my waist goes to my bud and I contract around him as my pleasure washes through me. I feel his thrusts get sloppy as he begins to fill me. He slips out of me quickly pulling a moan from my lips. I brace my hands on the stone as I catch my breath. 

“When you’re ready we’re going back up to our chambers and I’m gunna fuck you until he knows you’re mine.” he sits back and I nod to him with flushed cheeks.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It’s been almost a moon since we’ve landed in Winterfell and the amount of survivors showing up is astonishing. We have a large camp circled around the walls that grow larger by the day. As more people arrive we give them dragon glass to shape into weapons of their choice. We’ve had confirmation dragon glass works on the white walkers and everyone seems relieved to have finally confirmed this theory. 

“When do we march north? Or are we staying here? What is the plan?” I look to Jace as I sprawl across his couch. Benji and Luke are sat at the table and look to Jace ready for his commands. 

“We fight here. He will come to us in the end.” Jace nods and goes to look out the window at the growing host around us. 

“Who will come?” Luke asks nibbling his lip.

“The night King. We kill him and this ends. We go home.” his voice seems far away and we look to each other with confused brows.

“You’re starting to sound like Alys, brother.” I chuckle and he turns to me with a smile. 

“Surprisingly, I don’t take offense.” he smiles sitting on a chair across from me. “I saw him beginning to march here. He has a large host of white walkers with him that he has no care if they live or die. We’re fighting for something. We have a reason and purpose. Fate is on our side. He will be here during the hour of the wolf.” he turns to look at Luke and Benji. 

“Tonight?” Benji asks taken aback.

“Yes, so get some rest. We either come out victorious or die.” Jace rises nodding to us. 

Benji, Luke, and I leave Jaces chambers to go and find a couple hours of sleep. We drop Luke off at his chambers and I hug him tightly and kiss his head. We make our way back to our chambers and collapse to the bed. We simply hold each other and curl up under the covers basking in each other’s warmth.

I sit up in bed as a loud horn is blown. Benji is looking out the window and I rise and go to his side. The castle seems to be surrounded by flame as I see a white mass headed for us. I turn back to the chambers trying to wake myself up quicker. I start to pull on my armor and sheath Dark Sister at my side. I turn back to Benji who is holding his hand out to me. 

“Are you ready?” I ask him slipping my hand into his. 

“I am. With the three dragons burning from above we will be able to be victorious on the ground.” he nods to me. We make our way to the main hall and see the remaining leaders gathered. On approach I see Alys coming out of a dark hall.

“What are you doing here?” I look to her confused.

“Making sure you both were awake for this war. They need you.” she nods us over to the conversation being held. 

“My siblings and I will be in the skies burning as many as we can without burning our own men. This is our last stand. We have all of the tools we need to succeed. It’s now or never. May the Gods choose our side.” Jaces voices carries throughout the hall and I tear up hearing him speak so confidently.

“A word sister?” Jace nods his head to the corner where Luke is waiting for us. “I wanted to tell you what I saw when I touched that tree. I saw us all here. Making the prophecy come true. Everything we have done has led us right here. We can reclaim this realm and break it free from the icy grasp of the Gods. It will be a new age for us. These men and women believe in us and will follow us even to their death.” his words cause my heart to tighten knowing no matter how much dragon flame and glass we use we will still suffer losses. 

“I will follow you even if it means my death, my King.” I lower my head and I see Luke do the same at my side.

“You both will live. I can’t do this without you. Together we will revive the Golden Age.” his words capture my breath. 

We all embrace and begin to walk out of the hall. Benji returns to my side and walks with us to our dragons. I make sure he’s armed with as many dragon glass weapons as his person can carry. I look up to him unable to help the worry written across my face. He smoothes my brow before placing his lips softly on mine. 

“If you die tonight, I won’t let them burn you. I’ll keep you as my white walker pet or something.” I pull back and look to him with furrowed brows and he barks out a laugh.

“I’ll try my best to stay alive.” he smiles down at me. “But it seems as if I’ll see you after regardless.” he kisses me once more and disappears into the sea of men and women. 

I sigh and turn to my dragon and see my brothers also talking to their dragons. I hug around my dragons neck and he lets out soft chuffs. Jace looks to Luke and nods and offers me the same motion. I begin to mount and once I’m settled and clipped into my saddle I turn back to my brothers once more. Jace and Vermax shoot into the sky and his dragon alights the sky with dragon flame. Luke and I fly up in unison our dragons spitting flame and washing the world in red for a couple moments. 

Our dragons cry out and we dip down aiming for the approaching white hoard. We all separate and bathe the undead in a fiery bath. A horn is heard from behind us and we hear the war cries from our host as they clash with the dead. A cool wind sweeps down from the north and I gasp as the world is cast in a blizzard. Our dragons cry out at being blinded and spit fire around the skies hoping to find a break. 

My heart beats wildly as my dragon and I try to find our way to the ground. He dives down spraying flame to clear our path and once we land we’re engulfed in flame as Luke lands next to me. White walkers approach us an instant later and our dragons call out as we’re surrounded. Luke and I dismount and pull our blades. There’s no time for hesitation as we begin swinging. Where our blade lands death follows and our dragons finish them with flame. I risk a glance into the skies for Jace and shake my head as I see nothing.

This has to work. It couldn’t have all been for nothing. All of the death and loss had to have meant something. My emotions pour into Dark Sister as I begin to court death. I hear Lukes grunts from a couple feet away as he’s engaged in a dance with two white walkers. I gape as he cuts them both down and doesn’t falter before he moves to the next. Pride surges in my chest as I focus on the walkers in front of me. As I swing my blade the blizzard begins to let up and I can finally see the host around us and see we’re not too far from the walls. 

The sun begins to rise washing the word in the normal gray as we continue to fight. I take small glances at the force around us and allow myself to smile as I see that a majority of us are still standing. I push off the walkers and run to Luke. 

“Mount Arrax and find Jace and then come and get me.” I take over the walkers he was dealing with as he shoots to the sky. I watch him fly north and turn my focus back in front of me. My dragon picks off the walkers that try to get to me when I’m further engaged. Arrax gives out a cry above me and I’m quickly mounting and flying after him. I follow him to the weirwood inside the walls and land running to the tree. There I spot Jace standing in front of a man made of ice. This clearly has to be the night King. 

“Jace,” I breathe out as I see the two Kings standing off. 

Jace lunges and their bodies are too close together to see what’s happening. Luke and I stand there frozen not knowing what to do. I hear a blade cut against flesh and I gasp. Jace staggers back hand still wrapped around Catspaw that is sticking out of the Kings chest. He twists and pulls it out swiftly and the King falls to the ground. Jace turns to us, blade in hand, and the sun begins to break through the clouds. It casts across Jaces face and the weirwood behind him. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It’s been six moons since the sun shone upon our faces again. The losses the realm endured were too many to count. Rebuilding has taken time and will take longer than our own lives allow. Jacaerys was coronated in Winterfell before we flew to Kings Landing to see what remained. We all have been slowly healing and moving forward. Today in the peak of summer as the sun is its highest Jacaerys will be coronated again before the masses in Kings Landing. 

The remaining Lords and Ladies of the realm stand on the dais beside us as a crown is placed on his brow by the new High Septon. This crown has been forged with dragon glass and valyrian steel and named after him as the Reclaimer. Jace smiles and nods to us before he turns to the crowd and they erupt in cheers. 

“Jacaerys Targaryen, First of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, the Reclaimer.” the High Septons voice reverberates off of the walls of the dragon pit as the crowd continues to cheer.

“I told you that the dragons would be able to reclaim the realm. I always believed in this outcome.” Benji whispers in my ear and I turn to him with a wide smile. 

“Stay here with us.” I look up to him with pleading eyes. “With me.” my voice soft.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.” he dips down and places o kiss on my forehead.

“I should hope not or I would have to marry Cregan.” I smile up to him.

“Do not start.” his voice low as he pulls me against him before he pulls us off of the dais and he’s leading us into a carriage back to the Keep.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌

this literally took over my mind for the past couple of days fr

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @p45510n4f4shi0n @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

[mitsuyeaah]

STRAWBERRIES & CREAM

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“if i’m dreaming don’t wake, don’t wake me up from you in that sundress, here in that sunset.”

cw: modern au, sundress season with sanzu, fluff, nsfw (mdni), smut, pwp, oral (f receiving), food play, unprotected sex, creampie, clit slapping (brief), multiple orgasms (f), pet names (baby), swearing, sanzu being down bad for reader for wearing a sundress.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: my entry for The #SummertimeMadnessCollab event by @saccharine-darlin !! thank you for this awesome event! happy happy birthday to my one and only, haru <3

The hot summer wind danced around your figure, the smooth fabric of your pink sundress flowing with the breeze. You were surrounded with hues of green and red, the blazing sun in all its glory amongst the vast azure sky—not a single spec of cloud in sight; the buzzing of insects and trees waving at one another filled your ears as you wandered down the never-ending strawberry fields. Rows and rows of green and red stretched across acres of land which brought joy to your heart, like a child discovering a sweet treat for the first time.

“Maybe I should’ve stayed at home.” Your boyfriend hissed, swiping a slender hand across his neck, attempting to wipe away the thin layer of sweat that has formed there. Rosy strands of his shoulder-length mullet uncomfortably stuck to the sides of his neck, his fringe slightly sticking together just above his aquamarine eyes and thick lashes, a slight scowl forming upon his pretty face. You whipped your head over to where he stood, turning your torso as you looked over your shoulder, “Oh, lighten up, would you?” You chuckled from underneath the brim of your straw hat.

Before Haruchiyo could say anything, another tropical breeze danced around the two of you, this time, lifting the hem of your dress a little too high for his liking. He leaned over and jutted an arm out, catching the fabric in his hand and smoothed it down your legs before any prying eyes could wander above your knees— parts of you that only he could see and touch.

You gave him a sheepish smile as you held the fabric against your thighs, he could only shake his head and give a small chuckle, turquoise eyes becoming a shade lighter underneath the sun as he looked up at you. His cheeks were almost the same colour as his hair, a droplet sweat rolling down the side of his face. Feeling sorry for your boyfriend, you grabbed the white strawberry-filled bucket that hung from his forearm and placed your straw hat on the crown of his head.

“We’ll fill this up a little more, then we can go.” You wiped the sweat that rolled down the side of his face with your thumb and ventured further down the field, following the narrow path underneath your shoes.

His heart skipped a beat at your little gesture, the familiar warmth spreading across his sweaty chest as he surveyed the back of your figure. God, you always managed to make him fluster at the smallest things, the two of you have been in a relationship for quite a while now and not once did you not make his heart flutter with something as innocent as that, not that he was complaining though.

You were cute.

He looked at the way your pink sundress swayed around your knees, the fabric peppered with little red strawberries to match today’s activity—strawberry picking. How did you manage to look so heavenly under this scorching heat? Meanwhile, Haruchiyo looked like he just ran a marathon from the way his white polo shirt clung to every part of his torso, pants becoming uncomfortably tight around his legs the more time he spent under the sun.

Haruchiyo hated sweating but for you, he’d endure it.

He knew how fond of strawberries you were and so was he but he’d rather be in the comfort of his own home, eating them without having to break a sweat and practically bathing under the tropical weather. Plus, he loved your strawberries and cream cheesecake—luckily enough, his birthday was tomorrow and you had suggested to bake his favourite cheesecake flavour. Although, he didn’t expect the part where the two of you had to pick fresh strawberries for his cake.

You opted for strawberry picking instead of store-bought ones since it brought joy to you; the feeling of wandering around the endless fields of green and the faint scent of strawberries filling your nose. Even though Haruchiyo urged you to just buy from the store, the experience was still different and plus, it was time to get some much needed vitamin D, per your words—to which he responded by saying you could get vitamin D from another source, earning a slight smack from you.

Nonetheless, it was perfect. The cold dessert was just what he needed after being out in this scorching heat. He couldn’t wait to dig into the sweet treat and feel the coolness of the cake against his tongue, the bursting flavours and strawberries and cream melting in his mouth.

Feeling much better, the two of you sat on a wooden bench under a parasol with the strawberry-filled bucket resting on the table. After picking strawberries, Haruchiyo suggested grabbing strawberry ice cream that the farm had; he’s a sucker for these since they used fresh strawberries from their farm.

You softly chuckled at the man sitting across you eagerly licking at the sweet treat, the slight scowl that he held underneath the blazing sun no longer evident on his face, instead it showed pure content. The breeze was also cooler under the shade, rosy strands no longer uncomfortably sticking to his neck and his shirt didn’t cling to every part of his torso anymore. You met his aquamarine gaze as he looked up at you from under the thick layers of lashes, “Why are you laughing?” Genuine confusion was now plastered on his face, brows knitting together underneath his blush-coloured bangs.

“You’re cute.” Embarrassment filled his whole body, hands ever so slightly tightening around the waffle cone. Haruchiyo was never the one to know how to act when receiving compliments. Yes, he complimented you a lot, endless praises spilled from his lips very easily but when he’s on the receiving end, he doesn't know what to do. In your opinion, that’s what made you fall for him harder—the way his cheeks turn crimson red and his shy turquoise eyes avoid your gaze.

Before he could even process your compliment, you made a small noise out of surprise as you felt the melted pink liquid make contact with your index finger. Haruchiyo watched as you placed the ice cream on your other hand, lips encasing around the digit that was stained with the melted substance. His keen eyes followed the way your tongue darted out to lick a long stripe from the cone and up to the ice cream itself, following the trail of the melted ice cream.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his cerulean eyes following your tongue’s every movement. An action so innocent yet it flipped a switch inside him, rather quickly, even. Hell, who was he even lying to, he has been on edge ever since he saw you in that goddamned dress. The way the thin fabric effortlessly cascaded down to your knees, and the low neckline of it, deliciously exposing your collarbones. Haruchiyo wasn’t worried about other people looking at you because he knew you were his and he was yours. Goddamnit he was the only one hitting that, and no one else.

God, the way the dress hugged your body in all the right ways made him lose his mind. He has never wanted to rip the clothing off of you as quickly as you put it on but alas, you guys had plans for the day. In all honesty, he was ready to go home and take you right then and there, maybe even keep the dress on while he pounds into you; the neckline yanked down to expose your breasts. But, his deepest desire can wait. He’ll have to behave, for now.

“What’s on your mind, Haru?” His heart skipped a beat at the nickname; you always called him ‘Haru’ but his mind suddenly went elsewhere. How cute would you look as you call him by his nickname while his cock is sheathed inside you, and to top it off, your strawberry dress hiked above your hips as he gives it all to you. It may be his birthday today but you deserve all the pleasure he’s about to give you once the two of you get home.

Haruchiyo shook his head and mumbled a ‘nothing’; before he knew it, the two of you were back home, a bag of strawberries in hand. He gently placed the bag atop the kitchen island before pulling you in for a deep kiss. His lips tasted like strawberries, just like you expected. A hand cupped your cheek which allowed him to deepen the kiss, his lips were full of want as it  moved desperately against your own. Haruchiyo didn’t shy away from shoving his tongue past your lips as you parted them to let out a muffled whimper.

You stood there, trapped between his body and the kitchen island, and all you could do was grip the collar of his shirt. “Mhm.. Haru, I still have to make the cheesecake.” You let out a sigh of content as Haruchiyo moved from your lips, trailing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, and down the side of your neck. A light sheen of sweat coated your skin but he didn’t care, he could handle a little sweat. He nipped at the sensitive skin there, earning a small moan from you. “Baby, you can do that later.. I want you all to myself.” Haruchiyo furrowed his brows as you breathlessly laughed at his reply.

“It’ll be quick. Plus, what’s a birthday without a cake?” “Hmm, the cake I need is right here, though.” He wrapped his arms around you to grope at your ass, causing you to yelp. Your eyes widened, meeting his aquamarine ones which were full of mischief. “Haruchiyo.” You lifted a brow at him, the smugness in his face slowly disappearing before defeatedly raising both arms in the air and walking towards the living room.

“I love you!” You called out to him from the kitchen. “Whatever.��� Haruchiyo playfully grumbled from the living room. You shook your head and chuckled but before you could do anything else, he piped up again. “I love you.” A smile crept up to your lips, unable to bite it back. He was adorable to say the least, and you couldn’t have asked for more when he gave you his heart.

Throughout the entire time you prepared the cheesecake, Haruchiyo stood by the island counter. Pools of aquamarine never leaving your figure as you paced back and forth around the space. You’ve made this dessert countless times for him but he never fails to watch every single time, and despite watching it all, he has never jotted down a single process in mind. If he was being honest, he was running impatient. His cock grew harder with every passing minute, straining his pants; Haruchiyo couldn’t help his mind wandering to various things he’d do to you once you were done.

It also didn’t help how you decided to keep that goddamned sundress on while making the cheesecake. You were teasing him. He knew how much that dress drove him crazy, how it made him absolutely lose his mind. Haruchiyo watched the way you wiped your finger on the side of the bowl to gather the cream you’ve made and bring it up to your lips, sucking on your index finger. Fuck, the way your lips moulded around your digit, and the way you let go of it with a ‘pop’ pushed him to the edge.

Haruchiyo pushed himself off the kitchen island to make his way to you. You were finishing the last few touches for the dessert, decorating the top with freshly cut strawberries just like how you and Haru liked. Almost dropping a strawberry at the presence behind you, you let out a small yelp as he caged you in between the counter and his body. Haruchiyo placed his hands on your hips, pulling them back a bit just enough for you to feel his clothed hard on.

“‘M getting impatient, baby. Can’t let the birthday boy wait for too long, right?” He dipped his head to kiss the junction of your neck, earning a small sigh from you. Resting your head against his shoulder, his lips wandered further as you gave him more access—leaving trails of maroon and dark purple. “W-wait, Haru. Let me just put this in the fridge–ah!” A yelp slipped past your lips as he ground his clothed cock harder against your ass.

Everything became a blur after the dessert was stowed away in the fridge. Haruchiyo had you bent at the hips, your torso against the kitchen counter as he hiked your sundress up to reveal your ass. “Hmm.. so perfect for me.” He gave it a little slap before massaging the spot, earning a moan from you before nudging your legs wide open. As he kneeled, he yanked your soaked panties down so that your wet cunt was in perfect view right in front of his face. 

A loud whine slipped past your lips as Haruchiyo sucked on your wet entrance—the sounds that came from him were rather lewd given as to how hard he was sucking. The loud erotic sounds bounced off the kitchen walls, and went straight to your ears; it wasn’t like it was your first time being eaten out by Haru, it was just that the sounds never failed to make you flustered, especially with the way he hummed against your cunt like it was the most satisfying meal he’d had all day.

“H-Haru! Aah, slow down!” Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, legs threatening to give up as Haruchiyo pushed his face further between your legs. “How can I hold myself back when you taste this good, baby?” He mumbled into your bare skin before shoving his tongue past your folds, earning a loud whimper from you. Your cheeks warmed at the way Haruchiyo’s tongue felt inside you, and the way his lips sucked at your entrance—it hit all the right places within you, and you swore you could almost see stars. “Haru! Fuck..!” Your knees buckled at the never ending stimulation at the apex of your legs.

Despite being not much of a talker, Haruchiyo was definitely skilled with his tongue in other ways—ways that would bring tears of pleasure to your eyes without a doubt. Your forehead met the cool marble top of the counter as his fingers rubbed fast, tight circles at your clit; your mouth parted but no sound came out. You could feel your head spinning from the amount of bliss you felt at this very moment; oxytocin coursed throughout your body as Haruchiyo didn’t falter with his movements.

Knees buckling, he tightened his grip around your legs to keep your lower half from meeting the tiled floor. Your stomach tingled, all the way to the tips of your digits as your sweet release was right around the corner—soft pants turned into hard, high-pitched breathing mixed with attempts of crying out Haruchiyo’s name as you neared your orgasm. “Haruuuu~ F-fuck, I’m cumming–ngh! Aah!” Your nails painfully dug into the hard material of the countertop as your orgasm hit you hard; the intense pleasure shot up your spine as your whole body trembled, the blissful sensation engulfing you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you finally let go, cumming around his tongue as the building knot in your stomach snapped. Haruchiyo hummed against your pussy, sending more vibrations up your spine. He rode out your orgasm with his fingers still mercilessly stimulating your clit, and his free hand snaking around your front to play with your hardened bud, pulling a loud yelp from you. He sloppily licked up all your cum, hums of satisfaction leaving his lips as he cleaned you up. Your back arched at the feeling of the heightened pleasure, whining as Haruchiyo pushed you to overstimulation. Reaching a shaky hand behind you, you tugged at his rosy strands, trying to push him off your cunt before cumming around his tongue again.

Haruchiyo laughed at your cute attempts to get him off but he obliged but not before placing a chaste kiss on your throbbing entrance and standing up. He pulled your trembling torso against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your waist before whispering close to your ear, “Hmm.. you know what’s making me act this way, huh?” Shivering at the way his breath fanned at your skin, you shook your head no. You didn’t trust your words at the moment since your mind was long gone and fogged with thick clouds of lust. Nothing else.

Your boyfriend let out a saccharine laugh, his hands snaking around you to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of the sundress. “This. Fucking. Dress.” Haruchiyo harshly yanked down the top part of your dress with every word that came out of his mouth to expose your torso. He pressed his nose against the side of your neck, inhaling you intoxicating sent, “Fuck. I have been losing my mind since this morning. Ever since I saw you in this goddamned dress, I just wanted to bury myself in you right away.. You’re such a tease, huh..?” Haruchiyo skillfully removed your bra and tossed it somewhere in the kitchen, making a soft thud as it hit the tiled floor.

He wasn’t lying. As innocent as you looked in that sundress, he couldn’t help but think of every nasty thought that came into mind—it wasn’t his fault that you looked absolutely stunning with that dress on. You knew Haruchiyo had a thing for clothes that matched his rosy strands, especially if it accentuated your body in all the right ways, bringing out the most beautiful parts of you—though, he thinks that every single part of you is beautiful. He has been trying to keep his cool for the entire time in the strawberry fields. It also didn’t help how the flimsy material of your dress danced around the wind, hiking up your legs to reveal your delicious thighs.

Fuck, if Haruchiyo had the opportunity to take you right then and there back when the two of you were in the fields, he would have. He wouldn’t hesitate, not one bit. You were just so goddamned beautiful that he had to show you how much he loved every single bit of you. Breathtaking, to say the least. Sometimes he’d mentally curse himself for thinking of such lewd thoughts when you’re just standing there looking so innocent, so perfect but he knew you better than anyone. You loved to rile him up, and today was one of those days.

“Mhm—ah! R-really..? I knew you’d love it, Haru.” A smirk crept its way up to your lips, your voice shaky from your previous orgasm. Haruchiyo clicked his tongue, he wasn’t surprised that you specifically wore that dress to tease him. He absolutely loved it when you made efforts to rile him up, it was cute because he knew damn well it worked on him every single time. “Tsk. Wearing this just to tease me? How naughty, my baby.” You let out a moan as he massaged your breasts—Haruchiyo loved the way his large hands easily fit to cup at your mounds, like they were specifically made for your chest. 

Arching your back, you replied to him with a whimper, “Ngh! Well, I have to treat the birthday boy somehow, right—ah!” The chuckle that slipped past your lips abruptly turned into a full-blown moan as he pinched at your nipples, gently rolling them in between his digits, causing goosebumps to form under his lewd touches. “Always so good f’me my baby, aren’t you?” Haruchiyo trailed a hand up to your chin to angle your head towards him to kiss you. You moaned against his lips as he bucked his groin against you, rubbing it hard enough to feel the entirety of his length between the valley of your ass.

He chuckled at your attempts to form coherent sentences after pulling away from his lips, something along the lines of wanting his cock inside you. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth before letting it go to place a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. Haruchiyo skilfully turned you around so that the two of you faced each other; his eyes wandered across your bare chest, mouth watering at the way your breasts spilled from the neckline of the dress that’s been messily pulled down.

Haruchiyo marvelled at the way they looked, so tender, and plump from how he had been massaging them earlier. Fuck, he’s always had a thing for your chest. You furrowed your brows as he reached for something behind you, the glass bowl loudly scraping against the marbled countertop as he brought it closer to the two of you. “Since you don’t need this anymore.. Let’s not have the leftovers go to waste, hm?”

You blinked up at his aquamarine gaze, so full of mischief and slyness as he held the large glass bowl in his hand and the silicone spatula on the other. You watched as he scraped the spatula around the bowl, getting every bit of the cream you made earlier for the cheesecake and dropping it directly on your bare chest. A gasp left your lips as you were met with the cold cream against your warm skin.

It was a new sensation indeed but not weird enough to have you recoil. As a matter of fact, you kind of liked it despite knowing how much of a sticky mess it’d leave you—not like you haven’t felt that before, though. You and Haruchiyo were new to this whole thing, bringing food into sex; you never really thought of it as food and intercourse doesn’t sound as pleasing as it seems but now that you were experiencing it first hand, you didn’t mind at all. As long as it stayed away from your cunt.

Haruchiyo’s eyes were practically gleaming as he finished layering your breasts with cream—he was like an artist admiring his greatest masterpiece. “You’re so beautiful..” He let out a dreamy sigh and gave your lips a small peck before eagerly dipping his head below your chin to lick the sweetness off your chest. Your palms dug into the edge of the countertop, gripping them for your dear life as Haruchiyo licked a long stripe between the valley of your breasts, the sweet substance gathering at the tip of his tongue, all while holding your gaze—aquamarine eyes fixated on yours, like it was made just to look into your eyes and nothing else.

You let out a shaky breath as he stood up right, immediately resting a hand on your nape to pull you into a slow, sensual kiss. You hummed in delight as Haruchiyo didn’t hesitate to shove his cream-coated tongue past your lips, the sweetness of it dancing on your tastebuds. The kiss was messy, the sweet substance coating his and your lips which left wet, sticky trails around your mouths. He groaned into your mouth before swiping his tongue at your bottom lip, and kissing the corner of your mouth to clean up the mess he has made.

At this point, your head was spinning. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. The way Haruchiyo took his time to appreciate every single part of you left you breathless—your chest heaved up and down as you stared into his eyes with desperation. He was always like this, worshipping your body to the point where it drove you absolutely crazy; it may seem filthy and lewd to others with how he worshipped you but you loved it. Oh, you loved it a lot. It made your heart sing for his name, and every cell in your body yearned for no one but your lover standing right in front of you.

He placed his hands on your waist—the sundress still clinging to the lower part of your torso as he dipped his head into your chest once again, this time going for a breast. Biting back a moan, you threw your head back at his wet tongue languidly circling your sensitive nipple, rounding your back at the overwhelming sensation of his mouth, torso ever so slightly jerking. You tugged at his rosy roots as Haruchiyo gently bit at the supple flesh of your breast, it didn’t hurt, it was just the right amount of pleasure to send your mind in a frenzy.

Haruchiyo eagerly lapped up every single cream-covered spot on your chest, earning him whines and whimpers from you as you tugged at the rosy tufts of hair. He had his gaze on you the entire time, admiring all your  reactions under his tongue that your body had to offer him. You were cute—the way you let out short, shallow pants as he keenly sucked on your sensitive skin, the way you bit your lip as he swiped his tongue under your breast, and the way you looked at him with such adoration and lust; your brows knitted together in pleasure, lips slightly parted to whisper his name like a prayer.

Your front was left in a sticky, wet mess from Haruchiyo’s tongue; it was so naughty but you loved every bit of it. The way his tongue left messy, wet trails all over your body had shivers running down your spine, and the way his lips circled against the supple skin of your chest to suck it dark red, and purple left you breathless. He kissed every love bite that peppered your front, one so gentle and chaste that earned sighs of contentment from you, a contrast to what he was previously doing before, which pulled shameless moans past your swollen lips.

He turned you around once again, hips pressing against the edge of the marbled counter as he left open-mouthed kisses down your bare back, goosebumps forming under each wet kiss. “Haah~ Haru..” Haruchiyo hiked the dress up to your lower back, exposing your bare ass; he gave it a slap before grabbing the back of your right knee to prop it atop the cool surface of the counter. You braced yourself against the countertop, palms planted on the cool surface and back pressed against his chest. The sound of his belt unbuckling could be heard, the loud clang of the metal part startling you a bit as it met the tiled floor.

Haruchiyo didn’t bother stepping out of his pants as it pooled around his feet, and hastily pulled his underwear down, sighing as his cock was finally freed from its suffocating confines. He hissed as he circled his hand around his throbbing cock, languidly stroking it and using the bead of pre cum from his pink tip to lubricate his cock—it sat heavy in his hand, the way it pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own, so eager and so ready to be buried inside you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, running the blunt tip of his cock along your wet entrance, pulling a desperate moan from you.

A small chuckle left his lips. Haruchiyo figured he’d been teasing you enough, plus, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. The both of you let out a moan in unison as he pushed his cock past your wet folds, his length easily slid inside you due to your previous orgasm—the sound was wet and lewd, the way it squelched as he pushed his hard cock into you, your cum from earlier running down the inside of your legs as Haruchiyo filled you up with his dick. Your hands–which were previously flat against the countertop–balled into fists, nails uncomfortably scraping the cool surface. With your leg propped on top of the counter, it drove his cock deeper inside you.

A string of profanities eagerly left his lips. He let out hard pants like he’s just run a marathon—his face right beside yours as his chin rested on your shoulder. “Mhm..! So perfect f’me.. All mine.” He stilled his hips as the entirety of his length was sheathed in you, Haruchiyo knew you didn’t need time to adjust to him, no—you took him like a fucking champ every single time but he was the one who needed time to adjust. The way your walls hugged him tightly made his head spin, it also didn’t help how you had a habit of clenching around him once he was fully inside you.

He gritted his teeth as your walls clamped down on him for a few seconds, eyes glued shut in pleasure. “F-fuuuck..! Baby—haah! I might just cum if you keep doing that—ngh!” The grip he had on your leg tightened as he let out another moan; Haruchiyo let out a breath he’d been holding as he felt you relax around him, whispering sweet praises against the side of your neck before finally moving his hips. His free hand supported his weight by gripping the edge of the counter, effectively trapping you in between.

The pace he had set was relentless and merciless—just how you liked it. Short, high pitched moans left your parted lips as you closed your eyes shut, focusing on the way the tip of his cock deliciously kissed your cervix again and again. Haruchiyo knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew the certain angle that would absolutely drive you crazy, he knew which buttons to press to help you reach your orgasm quicker.

The sound of skin slapping and squelching bounced around the walls of the kitchen as Haruchiyo’s hips made constant contact with your ass—he watched the way your ass moved with every hard thrust he gave you, jolting your body forward and placing a dull pressure on your hips. He could feel your cum from the orgasm earlier drip down to his heavy balls, making a complete mess as his skin slapped against your own.

Your whole body shook from the way he pounded into you, moan after moan leaving your lips after trying to form at least one coherent sentence. “Shit.. Look at that..!” Haruchiyo let out an erotic gasp as a white ring formed at the base of his cock from how wet you were, this riled him up even more; the hand that gripped the counter made its way to your front, and down to your clit to draw figures of eight with his ring finger. You moaned at the heightened pleasure, arms giving up on you and before you knew it, your front was met with the cool surface of the countertop.

Haruchiyo used your bent figure as leverage to drive his cock deeper into you, standing at the ball of his feet and angling his hips higher. You could feel the back of your eyes heat up as tears threatened to spill, “Ah! Ah! Ngh—aah! Haru..!” Your back arched, deliciously pressing against the counter as he slapped your clit. This caused your knee to buckle, your lower half to almost meet the floor if it wasn’t for your other leg on top of the counter, and Haruchiyo’s arm snaked around you.

He grunted right by your ear with every thrust of his hips, his body molded against yours, his own hips bent as he pressed his chest to your clothed back; he knew how much the sounds he made turned you on—the way his erotic sounds flew right to your cunt to make you even wetter. “A-aah! Shit..! That’s it baby—ngh!” He groaned as he felt you squeeze around him.

It was truly a sight to see. The way your sundress barely covered you; the neckline yanked below your breasts and the skirt of it hiked up to your lower back as Haruchiyo mercilessly dicked you down. It didn’t even serve as an article of clothing anymore, no; now, it just looked like a reminder of what caused your boyfriend to be this crazy about you. It was like some kind of medal that you wore as he fucked you senseless, a piece of fabric covering your middle while the rest left you fully exposed.

The contrast between the pink blush of the sundress, and the strawberries that peppered the fabric and the way Haruchiyo was pounding into you was almost laughable. A piece of clothing, so simple, so innocent yet driving him insane like this—as the saying goes, less is more. Your leg that was atop the counter started to become numb, your foot tingling, and thighs burning as it kept that position but you didn’t care. Not when he was fucking you this good.

“M—aah! C-cumming, Haru..! S-shit!” You moaned, your fingers painfully digging into your palm from the immense pleasure that was starting to course throughout your body. Your boyfriend buried his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo before letting out a heated gasp as you clenched around him. He gave your nape a few kisses here and there, whispering such dirty things against your sweaty skin to help you reach your orgasm. The way his balls messily slapped against your clit, and the way his cock bullied your insides was enough to get you over the edge.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you let out a shameless moan, face contorted in nothing but pure bliss. You trembled as your second orgasm rocked through your body; tears streaming down your heated cheeks, knuckles white from balling your fists, and back arched from the immense pleasure. Haruchiyo did his best to keep thrusting despite your walls tightening around him to the point where it was almost pushing him out. “Ngh—ah! T-that’s a good girl..!” He sucked at the skin on your upper back, helping you ride out your orgasm to the fullest.

High-pitched whimpers escaped you as he pounded away at your cunt, trying to chase his own sweet bliss. Haruchiyo let out one last grunt before stilling his hips and stuffing his cock deep inside you to blow his load. “Aaah~ Ye–eaah..! Fuckin’ take it all—haah!” You gasped as you felt his hot cum paint your insides white, stuffing you to the brim, some of it dripping out and down your left leg, as well as down his balls. Haruchiyo stayed like that for a while, trapping you between his body and the countertop as he came.

Before your body could relax against the marbled surface, your muscles tightened as your boyfriend started to fuck his cum deeper into you. Since the entirety of his length was already sheathed inside you, he gave you quick, shallow thrusts, allowing his cum to reach you deeper while some of it messily spilled out and dropped onto the tiled floor. “Aaah! Shit..” Your body jerked with oversensitivity as his hips didn’t once falter. “Mhm~ That’s r-right.. Take all of me and make sure it doesn’t spill out, huh?” He panted against your ear, kissing it before slowly pulling out of you, earning a whine from the both of you.

“Mmm. Maybe I should keep wearing sundresses like this..” You breathlessly chuckled, stumbling into his chest as you took your leg off the counter to face him. Haruchiyo wrapped his arms around you—his cheeks were tinted pink, hair stuck to his forehead and neck, and eyes blown with lust, god, he looked handsome while fucked out. “‘M not complaining, baby. It is my birthday after all.. Maybe another one tomorrow. I’ll have my dessert then we’ll eat the cheesecake that you made.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head, squeezing you in a tight hug.

It took you a while to process his sentence. His dessert, meaning you.

© mitsuyeaah

[strawberrystepmom]

sanemi x f!reader. isekai au. lots of pining, emotional exploration, struggles of being isekai'ed. | divider thanks to @cafekitsune, wc 2.2k

Stranger in a strange land adopts a new meaning when you’re quite literally dropped into a world beyond your comprehension. Tonight, though, you are grateful for the infinite blanket of stars above your head. No light pollution, no city noise to interrupt the serenity of a moonlit night.

A breeze tickles your nose and you scrunch it in response, reminded of the reason you stepped outside in the first place. 

A futile attempt to outrun your thoughts of Sanemi. 

The wind always makes you think of him, something that would surprise no one if you were to be sincere with them about it. You sigh, kicking your legs out in front of you while they dangle off of the edge of your porch. You’re currently sharing a living space with the other single women who tend to the Ubuyashiki household, mostly maids who have taught you the best ways to stay cool in the oppressive summer heat and how to dab blood stains from the sleeves of your robes. Thankfully, they’re all tucked in their beds. There will be no witnesses to your self inflicted angst tonight.

Your friends have all moved along with their lives since being transported to this era, finding happiness and futures. More often than not, you feel like the odd man out, the only one still remaining poorly adjusted to a world that has welcomed you with open arms. The Hashira and Ubuyashiki family have been wonderful and gracious hosts. You’d even dare say that you’ve become friends with most of the people you have met since arriving no matter the cultural and linguistic differences of being a modern woman transported unexpectedly to 19th century Japan.

The outlier for you is a man. No matter where you are in history, what rabbit hole you’ve stumbled down, this will always be your issue. Your emotions feel heavier when you’re forced to lay down with them in the quiet dark of your room so you’ve decided to work them out within yourself outside and blissfully alone.

You wonder what he’s doing tonight, silently judging yourself for not sticking to your own commitment to being alone in body and mind.

One of the maids, Ritsu, teased you about him being off on a mission while you shot her a lok out of the corner of your eye before heading off to bed earlier. It’s unlikely that he will return here even if the mission has already been completed. It’s miles away from his estate, out of the way and impractical. 

It would probably be a stretch to call any Shinazugawa particularly practical. You know his brother very well, his relationship with one of your friends has been something you’ve taken great pride in being able to watch and support. They adore one another. They’re safe and peaceful and happy and Genya smiles so often you wonder if his cheeks ever ache.

His brother on the other hand. Harder to read. Even harder to shake. He doesn’t glower in your direction anymore, not now. Unfortunately this means you are now always searching for deeper meaning in every glance he tosses your way. Was that a glimmer of something softer? One of those God forsaken rabbit holes you’d like to travel down to meet him beneath the surface and understand him better?

It’s hard to imagine a world where you’ll ever know. You gently push the heels of your palms against your eyes, exhaling loudly through your mouth. If this were your time you’d simply go out. Shake your ass. Scroll your phone. Do anything to distract you from the fear of falling in love with someone you doubt can ever possibly care as much about you in return.

“What are you doing out here?”

Assuming you’ve imagined his voice in your misguided lovesickness, you keep your hands pressed to your eyes and giggle, giving yourself a piteous little head shake. So delusional. You don’t hear footsteps or movement at all, just the same little breeze that tinkles the ornate wind chime above your head. 

“Well?”

The wooden slats of the porch creak and whine slightly, finally encouraging you to drop your hands and look around you, only to be met with Sanemi sinking down to sit beside you, legs dangling in the same way yours are. A surprised smile crosses your face. He fights a twitch of his own lips, resting his elbows on his thighs and leaning forward to create an illusion of some kind of distance between the two of you. 

“The better question is what are you doing here? Weren’t you off on a mission?”

He chuckles. It fills you with warmth even though you wrap your arms around yourself, gently rubbing your hands along your forearms. 

“Keepin’ track of me?” 

You scoff playfully, looking toward your lap to hide a smile but deciding last minute to just let him see it. To show him how happy he makes you by just being himself. Crass and rough and, in his own words, hard. You like him just the way he is, especially when the wind ruffles his messy hair and the moonlight illuminates his silhouette.

“Me?” You raise your eyebrows and point to yourself, still smiling at him, cheeks warm. “You wish. Word just travels fast when you hang out with the local gossips.”

You tilt your head backward, nodding toward the home you share with a dozen other women. They are not merely information peddlers although, admittedly, the thirteen of you have had more than one session of giggling and tittering over the happenings in the Hashira and Demon Slayer Corps as a whole. Dreamily wishing to find someone who loves each of you as much as Tanjiro loves the partner he has found in the second of your friends who was transported here alongside you. Theorizing about weddings and babies and spring breezes and the winter snows yet to come. 

There is some gentle ribbing about the shine you’ve taken to the Wind Hashira and the way you literally light up when he approaches you but you are good at playing it off as nothing, tossing away the talk with an easy smile while insisting that this is just how you are. The teasing happens often enough that you wonder if they know about his late night visits; if they’ve overheard despite the pains you’ve taken to keep your enjoyment of his company quiet and your encouragement of him to do the same. 

Did Ritsu mention him tonight knowing he’d eventually show up, leaving in a flash before you can even come down from the high of experiencing the things his body does for you?

“I wrapped things up early and figured I’d stop by before heading home.” Sanemi’s posture straightens out when he sits up to look at you fully, face turned. Wisteria colored eyes pour over your face, the fullness of your lips and your undone hair. “Wanted to see ya.” You wear a yukata that you purchased during a trip into the city with him a few months ago, loosely tied with one shoulder hanging lower than the other. His eyes land on your exposed collarbone and travel up the side of your neck, lingering on your lips while he scoots an inch closer.

“I might have missed you.” He mutters so quietly you know that it’s meant just for you and the heat in your cheeks makes its way down your neck, your chest and throat warming in response to the innuendo and weight of his gaze. 

Scrunching your nose again, you look away from him and shift where you sit, the sleeve of your yukata working further down your upper arm while keeping you barely covered. “You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean them considering how often you complain about others doing it.” 

It’s easier for you to pretend he’s playing a game then it is to indulge that there may be truth to his words. He chuckles again from beside you, the tone as warm as the first time this evening despite your slippery attempts to pare down his words into tricky half lies.

“What makes you think I’m just saying it? When have I ever said shit to you senselessly?”

Answering a question with another question. The two of you probably know each other too well by this point if this keeps happening. You don’t have to answer one if you create another. Then another. You don’t ever have to take off the mask, another one perpetually beneath it even when your brows are knit together in pleasure and you softly mumble his name against his neck while he’s inside of you.

You have a feeling it’s sort of the same way for him even if he insists he hates pretense. For a quiet moment, you ponder exactly how to respond to him. You can’t outright say he isn’t being honest with no proof but you can play it off.

“You’ve said a lot of shit to me, Sanemi.” you joke. He tosses you a glance from the corner of his eye, not quite annoyed but enough that you understand that the poking isn’t going to work tonight. 

He slides his hand across the porch to gently grab yours, scarred thumb running along the length of each of your fingers as though he’s counting them, ensuring they’re still in place and precious. There’s no doubt he’s rough around the edges, amongst other things, but he values you enough to stop by after a mission to check on you. To talk to you. To not just fall into your bed like he did the first time, adrenaline pumping and still smeared with streaks of blood across his forearms and neck.

You received a few glances for the state of your futon after that one yet you managed to explain it away like you do everything else. It was an accident! You cut yourself while sharpening the small dagger you keep in your room! You started your period! Always explaining away instead of embracing conveniently placed truths in your lap. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s home with you isn’t solely made in your bed. It’s why the fear he will never feel the same terrifies you enough it keeps you up at night counting stars like petals on daisies and asking them if he loves you or loves you not.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I like being around you?”

An honest question draws you out of your own mind. You feel one of your masks drop and don’t rush to replace it with another, simply shrugging. His hand slides up your arm to adjust your robe enough to keep you decent, a crooked finger pulling airy cotton over your upper arm and upper breast. Sanemi’s eyes remain locked on your face, his hands familiar enough with your body that he can adjust you without looking.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid that if I let you stay you may not like what you find and will eventually leave.” He raises his brows, fighting off a smile. Perhaps you aren’t the only one letting a mask or two fall tonight. “I’ve been in you and sure fucking liked it,” he jokes and you giggle, gently patting the outside of his thigh. 

Things could be like this always, you consider. The two of you joking beneath the moon who laughs along with you, his hands on your body. Waking up next to him instead of ushering him out of the door as soon as your legs stop shaking for fear of being tied to him in people’s minds.

What if you just let it happen naturally instead of standing in your own way? 

Without taking the time to consider your movement, you lean toward him and gently kiss the exposed skin of his chest, above the scars that crisscross his torso. He wraps one arm around your hips and pulls you closer to him, bodies touching as close as they can without it being obscene.

“Do you wanna come in?” You ask him, lips halfway pressed against his chest.  He glances down at you and nods once, that same glimmer of fondness you have previously thought you imagined reflecting back at you when you meet his eyes. 

“Will you stay tonight?”

Sanemi’s face further softens and he nods again, not bothering to hide his smile this time. 

He lifts the sleeve of your robe over your shoulder, covering you entirely, and holds your hand as you stand up. Rising above him and planting your feet to help him up, the pair of you walk quietly into your adjoining room, careful not to alert anyone who may be looking on. You slide the door shut behind you, the wood gently snapping against the frame that cradles it, and pretend you don’t hear a giggle from the other side of the wall that indicates to you that one of your friends in the house knows what’s going on in your room.

But you’ll worry about that tomorrow. You reach to untie the knot at the waist of your robe while Sanemi closes in on you, cupping your chin and neck between scarred palms and kissing you with enough force you’re helpless to do a thing but kiss back.

Not that you’d want to do anything else.

[artyandink]

magnetism

FBI!AU

Summary: You and Dean Winchester, the best Major Crimes has to offer. You’ve been assigned on the same case, but even though you two maintain a certain level of moral integrity, you can’t help but let that go in the hotel room you’re both staying in. Just one moment can’t hurt, right?

A/N - This is for the Jensen-A-Thon and could also be the prequel for another series I have in mind, might be titled something similar hehe. Stay tuned and let me know if you’re interested!

SERIES MASTERLIST

This was supposed to be professional.

“You goddamn tease.” Dean growled in your ear before nipping the earlobe, his calloused hands smoothing up from your body to reach your chest, grab hold of your blouse and rip it apart, buttons clattering to the floor and eliciting a gasp from you, low chuckle from him. “Workin’ me up all day in that tight skirt and goddamn heels- d’you know what you do to me, darlin’?” You were marked with an array of small and large purpling bruises down your neck and behind your ears as well as his cologne all over you, the musk of coffee and floral washing detergent only adding to the dizzying mix.

Your head was tipped back, as a result of him pulling roughly on your hair to give him the access he wanted. “Dean…”

“Yeah, just like that, baby. Love hearin’ my name from those pretty lips.” He threw your legs apart as wide as they’d go, standing between them and grinding into you so you’d feel him through his slacks, his teeth gritted as he felt the warmth through your dampened panties. Or maybe soaked, he couldn’t tell.

He’d find out soon enough.

He ran his nose along the length of that pretty neck that he now owned, littered with his marks and clouding his better judgement with the perfume you had on, the morning espresso and sweet pheromones that tore his inhibitions piece by piece.

Dean had snapped five minutes earlier, straight lifting you onto the kitchen island, the only brace being the edge of it. From there, you’d felt his lips on yours, hand moving up to rest on your throat, movements hard, demanding, as he grabbed your shin and pulled you closer.

Now he was kissing down the valley of your chest, kneading one in his palm over the fabric of your bra as the other snaked around to undo the clasp. He looked up at you as the bra and torn open blouse fell away, lipstick smeared, hair all messed up and no longer neat, with your skirt bunched up around your waist and showing your clothed pussy, the material covering it soaked.

There was a switch in his brain.

He began kissing every freckle he could reach on your body, his index hooking into the band of your panties, pulling and snapping them against your skin, making you jolt and whine his name. “So damn sensitive.” He chuckled, the words sending vibrations against your skin. “Don’t get touched much on the job, huh?” He slapped your thigh when your only response was a whimper. “Words.”

“No, Dean.” You replied shakily, and Dean bit his lip and groaned, though you didn’t catch the first part as his mouth was hovering above your collarbone. But then he raised his head up to face you, and you saw the extent of what you’d done to him. Hair sticking up in different directions, lips swollen and reddened, neck covered in your lipstick prints, tie no longer there and shirt partway undone. He looked like a wet dream.

He grinned slightly, nudging your nose with his before nipping your bottom lip. “S’what I like to hear.” Then he bent by your ear, removing your panties with a flourish. “Be loud for me, sweetheart. Wanna hear you scream-”

“Hey, you listening? Homicides and organised crime across the States not interestin’ enough for you, princess?” You stopped staring at the wall, the apparently very interesting wall with its boring, cream, floral wallpaper, and your eyes landed on Agent Winchester sitting on the bed, scratching his scruff in irritation, the laptop set on those powerful thighs in the slacks which looked like they were practically painted on. Green eyes set on you, eyebrow quirked, long, thick fingers resting on the keyboard of his laptop. Shirt straining on that broad chest in a way that should be illegal. Ironic because you’re the FBI of all people. Had you not worked together, you’d have straddled him on that bed, unbuttoned your blouse and- “Cause I’m not repeating this once more after this.”

Of course it was your imagination.

“Y-Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, doing a quick check of yourself. Blouse intact, skirt was firmly ending at your lower thigh as usual, and by your discreet mission to rub your thighs together, you gathered intel that your panties were still on. Albeit soaked through.

You were gonna have to change those before it became a distraction.

Oh, boy, sweet Jesus, holy guacamole, you were in trouble.

But at least you could revisit that daydream at night. And maybe have him finish off the job the next time around.

This was so unprofessional.

I’d appreciate feedback in the forms of comments and reblogs, lovelies! Thanks for reading!

TAGLIST: @k-slla @deans-daydream @lyarr24 @hobby27 @agentmstark @kaya-mohr-blog @mohrkaya-blog

[eggluverz]

THE SWEETEST KISS

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. fluff, roommate au

WARNINGS. reader is shorter than dan heng

WORD COUNT. 1k

SUMMARY. in which dan heng is a bit of a grinch, but you need help setting up the mistletoe for your christmas party and dan heng simply cannot turn you down. 

A/N. happy holidays everyone !! :> is it too much to ask to spend the holiday szn with dan heng? :/ wishing and dreaming~ hope you enjoy this lil fluffy drabble!! xx sof

Dan Heng was uncertain on how he felt about the cold. 

On the one hand, the cold winter nights provided a great excuse for him to stay at home or in the library all day. On the other hand, he couldn’t say he was too fond of all the holiday festivities around the coldest times of year.

To him, they felt more like a celebration of capitalism and disposable income rather than a holiday with a purpose. Of course, him expressing his admittedly pessimistic sentiments ended up with you hanging a Grinch poster on his door. 

Dan Heng both laughed and sighed when he saw it. You always knew how to get under his skin with the right amount of playfulness that never made him grow annoyed. As his roommate, perhaps it was a special skill you had developed over the months. 

“Don’t worry. That’s just so people know not to go into your room or disturb you tomorrow,” you explained with a cheeky grin.

“Sure.”

“It is!”

You were currently setting up the decorations for your upcoming holiday party after begging Dan Heng for his permission to use the common areas of the apartment as a place to host for one night. And while you may have inadvertently called him a Grinch, he certainly had no interest in actually ruining your fun. So he gracefully agreed.

You were his roommate who paid half the rent after all. Of course he would agree to what you want, even if it was a cliche and over-the-top holiday party. And it certainly wasn’t just because he liked seeing you happy and cheerful.

That was simply one part of it.

As the day turned dark, Dan Heng sat on the couch while researching how food waste contributed to climate change to destress for the night. He looked up from his laptop after hearing a few thumps on the floor only to find you struggling to hang up a mistletoe on the tall entryway of the living room. 

He hid a smile of amusement as you jumped and missed.

“We have a step-ladder out in the patio,” he supplied.

You puffed your cheeks up and continued on your mission. “Yes, but that’s extra work and it’s easier like this.”

Once again, you jumped, this time almost reaching the doorframe, but alas, falling a few inches flat. As you fell, so did a fake berry on the mistletoe. The two of you watched as it rolled off the stem.

“Is that so?” challenged Dan Heng.

There was a pause as another berry fell off at your movements. “Maybe.”

After a few more moments of watching you struggle, Dan Heng finally got up from his seat and extended his hand out. You looked at him curiously.

“Let me help,” he coffered, gingerly taking the mistletoe from between his fingers. It was made of plastic and covered in red and green glitter. The single plastic berry left looked like it was about to fall off at any minute if you had attempted to launch it onto the entryway even one more time. 

Beside him, he heard a stifled laugh. “Touching it won’t poison you, you know?”

“Yes, but it certainly will cause glitter to stick to me for at least a week.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

He smiled.

You handed him a few pieces of tape as he stood on his tiptoes to place the mistletoe on the entryway.

“Do you think it’ll hold like this?” he asked.

“With enough tape, anything can be held together.”

Dan Heng wasn’t sure about your claim, but he nodded along nonetheless.

“Is this spot okay?” 

“Perfect!” you clapped your hands and beamed up at him, a look of pure joy on your face as you stared fondly at the added decoration. As he took his hand away from the heavily taped plant, the remaining berry fell from the mistletoe and landed right in-between the two of you.

Your smile didn’t waver as you pretended not to see it. 

“Super perfect!” you said as if you were trying to convince yourself. 

He chuckled. Christmas might be a cash grab holiday with low-quality decorations being sold wherever you look, but he didn’t mind it so much when he got to see you like cheerful this. 

“Thanks for your help, Dan Heng,” you said appreciatively, dusting the copious amounts of glitter off your fingers.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes darted around, zooming from the mistletoe on the ceiling then back to his face.

“Now, would you look at that,” you laughed sheepishly. “It seems we’re under a mistletoe. Does that mean we should…?”

“The mistletoe no longer has berries.” 

You blinked. “Sorry?”

Dan Heng breathed a noise of amusement. “The origins of the ‘kissing-under-the-mistletoe’ story includes taking the berries off the bush. For each kiss, a berry gets picked. When they run out, so does the kiss magic.” He gestured up at your fully green mistletoe. “No berries left here, therefore, there will be no bad luck if we don’t kiss.”

He saw the look of dejection on your face far before you covered it up with a laugh.

“Oh. Right!” You huffed and whispered under your breath, “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten the one on sale.” 

Dan Heng grinned as he realized the implication of your hidden words. “Holiday stories rise, we don’t need permission from a mistletoe to kiss.” 

Your eyes widened and the sad look on your face turned into one of hope and amusement. “I guess you’re right, but it does take away some of the holiday magic. Still, I suppose if I were to kiss you for the first time, I’d rather it not be due to the threat of bad luck from a mistletoe.”

His cheeks warmed as he nodded in response. “I agree.”

You giggled as you leaned in to kiss him, planting a gentle but firm kiss on his lips. Dan Heng smiled, returning one to you as well. He cherished the sound of the soft, happy sigh escaping your mouth, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he was allowed to witness it.

Mistletoe may be bitter and poisonous, but Dan Heng could safely say this was the sweetest kiss he has ever had. 

[lushrue]

hockeyteam!141 headcanons

wanted to write more for this au but i don't have enough creative juices for a part 2 yet, so have some hcs about the 141 + some reader backstory! 💖

price (#35)

has been playing since he was a kid, found something he was good at and stuck to it

skate guards, stick tape, mouthguard, everything is blue because that’s his favorite color

gets really concerned when any one of his guys goes down on the ice, he’s usually right there beside the team medic until they shoo him away

is the first one back in the locker room after a game to greet the others with a fist bump or a high five for a job well done

(ghost thinks it’s corny, but he always asks for a fist bump after a particularly tough match)

ghost (#42)

picked up the sport as an escape from family life, it was an outlet to let out his rage and he took it

carries around a communal bottle of peroxide for washing jerseys

sometimes, the other guys on the team will give him their bloody gear cause no one can get the stains out as good as he can

technically, gaz gave him his nickname first (“you’re like a bloody spectre out there, mate”) but soap was the one that made sure it stuck

is definitely the guy on the team that yells at everyone else when they aren’t paying attention to price

has gotten called the captain’s pet more than once for it, too

really likes the flavor of red gatorade, but he doesn’t like how it stains his teeth

soap (#07)

started playing when he got kicked off of his youth football/soccer team for being too aggressive, parents picked a more physical sport for him

definitely chews on his mouthguard when the game is getting close, will chew on it regardless if he’s been on the bench for too long

gets really annoyed with how sweaty the mohawk gets under his helmet and has fully considered buzzing his whole head multiple times

chirps both on and off the ice, started an all-out brawl by calling another player a “sack of yankee-dankee-doodle gobshite” once (yes, he got it from gordon ramsay)

once he puts those pads on, he will do anything and everything price tells him to do

refill his water bottle? done. grab the whiteboard so he can sketch something out? it’s already in his hand.

speaking of sketching, johnny really likes to draw and has drawn everyone on the team at one point or another

gaz (#74)

definitely was one of those kids that played every sport they could

this man was in hockey, rugby, football, anything that would let him sign up and give him a position to play

price handpicked him for the minor league team after seeing him play in a local match (still had to run it by the head coach, laswell, though)

dances in his seat on the bench in between plays and has definitely bribed the announcer to play some of his favorite songs during the intermissions

is relatively quiet on and off the ice until he sees something he doesn’t like

once, someone landed a pretty nasty hit on price and kyle got himself ejected from the game fighting with the ref over the lack of penalty

bonus reader hcs!

i want to leave most of the physical characteristics vague (gender, hair color, etc.) but i have some backstory for the reader in this au!

decided they want to be a figure skater after watching the olympics with their parents as a kid

they started classes as young as an instructor would take them, and before that, they made their mom take them to the ice rink every day after school

always refuse to compete with a partner because they got burned by an almost-dating situation when they were in high school

as much as their coach keeps trying to get them to do upbeat routines to rock/pop music, they’ve always preferred the more flowy routines to instrumentals

despite that, they always warm up to divorced dad rock

gonna write a pt 2 for the story soon, so stay tuned!