#DESPAIR BUST UP

[rozex21]

ASHLEY JUMPSCARE !!!!!!

[kingludoavarius]

This is Vadrigar. He is the main villain of Billie and Seve's Adventures in Love and Friendship and appears prominently over the course of the series, beginning with the story "Awakening". Here, he is depicted in the human form of Viktor Von Savage, the first true host he ever had. After absorbing Viktor's form into his very own, this human appearance became how Vadrigar would display himself to others, of course, prior to requiring a new host in the form of Arthur in order to gain access to Billie's world. Viktor's form would return, however.

Vadrigar is the physical manifestation of Lucifer's despair, a being created nearly 100 billion years ago by the fallen angel in all his torment. Vadrigar cannot experience love. He can emulate it. He knows what it means. He can pretend to express it. But he can never truly know what it means to love. Upon conception, Lucifer locked Vadrigar away, for he was afraid of what the spirit was capable of. But Vadrigar would escape his imprisonment, and with nothing but revenge in his heart, he decided that the entire universe would be subjected to endless suffering at his hands.

Vadrigar would have it all. He would destroy it all. He enjoys the thrill of war, of chaos, of misery and suffering. It is the closest he can feel to happiness. Vadrigar's evil knows no limits. This artwork is from a long time ago, the first time I used Vadrigar in a discontinued My Little Pony fan fiction series called Vadrigar and Discord, a series in which he tried to push Discord over the edge, to embrace evil and indulge in the suffering of the others had caused him.

I believe this predates the episode with Tirek, as I came up with it around the end of season 2 with his introduction. Vadrigar had been a character I planned on giving his original story for years, but it had never come into fruition. I created the character over 20 years ago in high school. I can't believe it's been that long.

[danganronpadedication]

Listening to "A Million Gruesome Ways To Die" from Billie Bust-Up, and all I can think about is various Danganronpa executions, or alternatively, an animatic about the Remnants of Despair.

If only I could animate.

Also ''I've Had Enough Of You" from the same game, is giving Chapter 6 Tsumugi in the best way, and I need to see it come to fruition.

I have rudimentary editing skills, I will attempt the first one but idk about the other two lmao

[of-another-broken-heart]

Damn, that survey about jam on toast really has me wishing we had bread (and butter) because I could DESTROY like half a loaf all by myself right now.

Which of my menagerie of maladies is to blame for me craving salt and fat above all else?

I don't fucking know.

Even day-old bread costs like $4 a loaf now. And butter, that shit's like, double digits for a pound.

I don't remember the last time I could eat enough to actually feel full.

I say, while just wanting fucking. Bread.

Hit me with the peasant scraps. I will take your stale heels and I will be delighted.

[futurewife]

When I stop taking my meds bc side effects but then I recieve The Symptoms 🤯🤯🤯

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Secret mutual pinning, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of insecurities, EVENTUAL SMUT, confessional sex, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v sex, long distance relationship

𝐀/𝐍: I didn’t expect this to be so long. Also hey @lazyjellyfish300 remember this blurb?? We’ve got the smut🥳

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Saying goodbye to you wasn’t part of Miguel’s plan. As you prepare to leave Alchemax for a prestigious new role, Miguel struggles with the realisation that he’s about to lose more than just a colleague.

“What are you doing?”

Miguel watched intently as you packed away your belongings in a box, clearing up your workstation. It wasn’t just a casual clean up— this looked like something more final.

You meticulously removed the photos from the wall, gathered your notes, and neatly stacked your research papers. The once vibrant workstation, full of personality, now looked eerily bare.

“Clearing my work station.” you said matter-of-factory. His chest felt heavy with uneasy tension, a sense of foreboding growing with each second.

“Yeah, I got that much, genius,” he shot back, stepping closer and stopping right next to your desk. “Why are you clearing your desk?”

You turned to face him wordlessly, his question only carrying more weight between the two of you like an unwelcome guest. His mouth went dry as he locked eyes with you.

Up close, you always managed to take his breath away, a quiet beauty that never failed to stir something deep within him. But today, there was a different kind of tension in the air, a sense of finality that he couldn’t grasp.

“Well?” he prodded, though he had a sinking feeling that whatever was going to unfold would change everything.

“Well uhm…I put in my two weeks notice today.”

He almost choked at your words. This was worse than he anticipated. He thought maybe you were moving to a different workstation, not leaving the company entirely.

“What?” his voice was barely a whisper. He could feel his pulse thundering in his ears. You were leaving— he was losing you.

“I’ve been offered a lead geneticist position at another company. But it’s in Raleigh, so…I’m gonna have to move.”

You had worked as a research scientist at Alchemax for several years, and because of the nature of your work, you and Miguel collaborated on a daily basis.

Discussing experimental results, debating research protocols— it all came so naturally. Over time, what began as a professional respect grew into something more personal. And now, that bond was about to be severed.

You were leaving for a bigger, fancier job in North Carolina. The thought twisted something deep inside him and he struggled to keep himself together.

“I can’t turn it down. I’ve busted my ass on the application and the whole interview process.”

“Congrats…” The word came out strangled, forced through clenched teeth. Trying to talk without being overwhelmed with emotions was like trying to hold back a flood with a paper dam.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.” you half-joked, but there was a note of concern in your voice.

You were right, his response wasn’t the best cover-up for his true feelings. The mere idea of you leaving filled him with dread, despair and most of all, jealousy.

“Of course I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been working hard— you deserve the opportunity.” He managed to hide most of his turmoil behind a cold wall of control. But deep down, the words felt hollow.

He knew he had no right to feel this way. You had every right to leave, to seize this incredible opportunity. This wasn’t something that came around often, and he didn’t want to be the one to hold you back.

You set the box down on the desk— the box that held all your belongings. “I’ll still be here for another two weeks.”

“Two weeks…” he echoed, the words sticking in his throat like a curse.

Two weeks. How was that enough time to prepare for losing you? What was he supposed to do after that? Just accept that you were gone? His heart couldn’t take that.

“I’ll visit Nueva York whenever I get the chance,” you said, trying to sound reassuring.

“You better. You’re not allowed to just drop off the face of the earth once you’re gone…” it was getting harder to keep his tone light.

“Of course…Nueva York and Alchemax aren't going to leave my mind anytime soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of us every now and then…and I’m certain this place won’t forget you…”

“I doubt it.” you scoffed, a bit of edge to your voice. “The higher ups will probably replace me before I even step foot in North Carolina.”

Miguel’s heart sank at the thought, though he knew there was some truth to it. The idea of someone else taking your place, of your work station filled with notes and projects by another rando, was too much to bear.

He could already picture the empty space where your personal touch used to shine through, replaced by some faceless new hire who was unaware how amazing you were

“Yeah, knowing them, they’ve probably already written up your job description, listing your position open for applications.” he sighed solemnly.

The company never had the best moral compass when it came to their employees, and would replace anyone that wasn’t serving their needs in a heartbeat.

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ve left my mark here, even if I feel like I didn’t do much.”

Miguel almost let out a laugh in disbelief. You were always such a hard-worker, always a quick-thinker. You had single-handedly helped him out more times than he could count.

Another company had even recognised your talent and wanted you to work for them…yet you still doubted your capabilities.

“Are you serious? You’re irreplaceable. You’ve saved my ass more times than I could remember.” His voice was firm now, desperate to make you see things from his view.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Now, I’ll soon be the lead geneticist in another company, just like you.”

The enthusiasm in your tone was impossible to miss, and it reflected in your eyes. It should have made Miguel happy for you, and in a way, it did.

But the guilt still gnawed at him, guilt that he couldn’t match your excitement. Deep down, all he wanted was for you to stay, for purely selfish reasons.

“Yeah…just like me.” he repeated your words, the tiniest edge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

You didn’t seem to notice. “I guess all those late nights of research finally paid off. And all your teachings too.”

Miguel recalled all those nights together— just the two of you, the lab quiet save for the hum of machines and the scratch of pen on paper.

Mundane tasks became memorable simply because you were there. The memories sent a shiver up his spine, a bittersweet reminder of what he was about to lose.

It was a painful realisation that not everything lasts forever, especially the good things.

“Don’t count all this success as being attributed to just me, you did a lot of studying, too.” he chuckled lightly. “You really put in the hard work…you earned it.”

But even as he spoke, the words tasted bitter. Even if he was proud of you, it didn’t make the ache in his chest any less potent.

He glanced back at the box on your desk. No one could replace you— not in the lab, and certainly not in his life.

“But, I wouldn’t be here without you, so I have to give you some credit.” you smiled warmly. “If I ever win an award in this field and they make me stand on those podiums and talk to a huge audience, I’ll be sure to mention your name.”

Miguel felt his stomach flip at your words. He was at a loss for words. You’d mention his name if you won an award? He didn’t realise he had made such an impact on you— to be someone you viewed as admirable enough to acknowledge publicly.

The thought alone could possibly make him faint. To have his name mentioned in such a light by you…it was almost too much to handle.

He swallowed thickly. “Ah…you don’t have to go that far. I’m just some scientist,” he said coolly, though his pulse quickened. “Really, you’re gonna go places, make a name for yourself— you don’t need to credit me.”

“But I will. You've been a big part of my career here,” you insisted.

Your words hit Miguel square in the chest. You were adamant about recognising his role in your life. It was almost overwhelming, the way you considered him to be that much of an integral part of you.

He forced out a playful scoff, hoping to mask the surge of emotions rising in him.

“Yeah, I guess I helped you with some projects…but don’t go listing me as some co-author in your resume.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I know my limits.”

~

The next few days felt like treading on thin ice, where one wrong move could crack the fragile tension between the two of you.

Since the day you told him you were leaving, you’ve been unusually reserved, quieter than usual— a shift that didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.

The sudden change in your energy tightened the coil of anxiety in his chest, and it was made worse by his inability to figure out why you were acting this way.

Whenever he would look your way, you always seemed distracted, lost in thought. Your responses were always brief and you would only speak when spoken to.

Miguel couldn’t help but feel concerned over you, but he was hesitant to ask you about it, not wanting to intrude or overstep any boundaries.

One evening, you both found yourselves working late again in his lab alone. The atmosphere was quiet— filled with the soft sounds of typing and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Miguel couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you. You were staring at your work, but he could tell your focus was elsewhere, lost in your own thoughts that were weighing you down.

As the evening wore on, the solitude of the lab and the waning hours seemed to offer the right moment. His concern outweighed his hesitation, and he turned his chair to face you.

“You’ve been quiet all day. Is everything okay?” He asked gently.

You looked up at him from your papers. The lightning highlighted the tiredness in your eyes, your expression weary and distant.

“Yeah, just thinking.” you mused.

“Is it about leaving? Are you upset?”

He could see the hesitation in your face, your eyes darting away from him and focused on the desk in front of you. “It’s not about leaving…well, maybe it is, in a way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about how I’ve been in relationships…you know, what I wanted, what I didn’t get. I’m starting to wonder if maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Miguel blinked, taken back by your admission. He hadn’t expected that, but now that you brought it up, he was curious to know more.

“Too much? What could you possibly have asked for that was too much?”

“Just…little things. Being held, feeling safe, someone who actually listens after a long day,” you replied. He didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “I thought those were normal things to want, but it was like… like they were a burden to give.”

Hearing you feel so unappreciated made his chest tighten with frustration. How could someone make you think you were asking for too much? You deserved everything you asked for and more.

“That’s not too much to ask. It’s not a burden— it’s what you deserve.”

This wasn’t a passing thought; it was clear you’d been hurt before. The idea that someone had made you feel unworthy of love you craved infuriated him.

If you were with him, you wouldn’t even have to ask for that. He’d give you everything you wanted, and then some.

You let out a tired sigh, still not fully convinced by his words. “Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever find that. Or I’m chasing something unrealistic.”

No, don’t think that.

“You deserve someone who will give you all of that.”

You looked up at him. He could tell his words resonated with you when he saw something hopeful in your eyes. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said— he kept his tone low, hiding the fierce enthusiasm he felt. He could go on about everything you deserved, but he didn’t want to come off as desperate. “And if you have found it yet, it’s not because you’re asking too much.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do— but he held himself back. He wanted to pull you into his embrace, just to share your warmth.

He wasn’t going to confess to you, that wasn’t the smartest move. Instead he pushed his feelings down for your sake, and pretended his love for you was just platonic.

“Are you in a relationship?” you asked suddenly.

Miguel had to hold himself back from giving a puzzled look. You’ve worked together for years now— wasn't it obvious that he was single? Maybe he’d been too vague about his love life, that was probably why you were asking.

He thought that by never mentioning a partner, it made him seem more available to you. But it seems you’ve overlooked that.

Not that he was inexperienced. He had his fair share of relationships— some short-lived, others too casual to be called serious.

They were a balance of good and bad, each leaving him with lessons to learn.

But he could confidently say that none of them had ever made him feel the way you did. He longed to express that with you, to tell you why you had his heart wrapped around your finger. But he knew that would only complicate things more.

“No…haven’t been in one in a while.”

And you’re the reason, he wanted to add.

“What about you? Found anyone special yet?” A small part of him dreaded to hear you answer, even if either response wouldn’t serve him any good.

“No.”

If you weren’t leaving the company, that answer would’ve brought him joy. But now, knowing that you were available it made the situation more poignant— a reminder that he had missed his chance.

Ironically, it would’ve given him more clarity if you said yes.

He had gotten used to concealing his true feelings since the day you told him that you’ve given your two weeks notice. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

So he offered you a reassuring smile instead, “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone who will cherish you the way you deserve.”

I’m right over here.

From the look of your face lifting up, he knew he managed to sound convincing and encouraging.

“I do have my eyes on someone though…” you added.

Your words echoed in his head and wrapped around his throat like a vice. A storm of emotions hit him all at once, leaving him struggling to navigate through the confusion.

On one hand, he was dying to know who you were referring to. On the other, he felt shattered that someone else managed to make their way into your heart and he wasn’t even aware of it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “Oh really? What are they like?”

Each question he asked felt like digging himself deeper into a pit he might never climb out of. Even while he forced himself to act neutral, it was hard to predict when the nonchalant facade would eventually crack.

You let out a sheepish laugh before answering. ”Well…he’s pretty tall,”

Miguel’s mind raced through every tall colleague he could think of, analysing every conversation you’d had with them, and trying to think back to any clues that would give away your feelings for them.

Miguel knew he was probably being overly cautious, but his instincts flared up. It wasn’t just his jealousy— though there was no denying that he was feeling a tinge of envy— but he didn’t want to see you get hurt by anyone.

Especially after what you revealed to him earlier. But he brought those thoughts to the side for a moment and continued to listen to you.

“He’s… a little grumpy but that’s what adds to his charm,” you added. There was something reflecting in your eyes, a sparkle that he couldn’t quite grasp, but he dismissed it.

Grumpy? You found that charming? He thought back to all those times you had called him grumpy.

His stomach fluttered as he felt a new sense of hope. But he didn’t let that sway his judgment and got optimistic too quickly.

“What else do you like about him?” Miguel asked. Deep down, Miguel felt a change of heart and he was desperate to know more, hoping that there was even the slightest chance that it might be him.

“He’s always there when I need him, even though he tries to hide it, he secretly has a heart of gold.”

You were killing him, little by little, with every answer you were giving him. It was all the qualities he was proud to have, yet he still felt doubtful.

He managed a small smile, trying to hide the longing in his heart. “Sounds like a good man. I’m sure he’s lucky to have your affection.”

“Yeah. I really hope he feels the same. Otherwise, all those coffees I gave him would be a waste,” you let out a sigh, clearly lost in thought about the man you admired.

You couldn’t have been more obvious. His heart fluttered as he recalled all those coffees you would give him in the mornings, especially during your joint projects.

Thank the stars that he was a master at keeping a tight lid on his feelings. There was no way he was going to let his excitement show— not yet, not until he was sure

“Those coffees?” he asked. “Why do you give them to him?”

“I was hoping I’d stand out to him and not just be a colleague he sits with.”

“Stand out? What other things are you willing to do?”

“Maybe offer to help with his paperwork— if he doesn’t mind.”

Miguel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but his heart swelled with happiness with each word. You wanted to stand out to him. Offer to do his paperwork.

You didn’t have to do all of that to get his attention; he had eyes on you for a long time, but all these little things you did were an added bonus.

“Do you think I should buy him more coffee?” you asked, you gaze locked with him, searching for his approval. You were asking for his opinion too.

“Coffee’s a good ice breaker. Maybe you could add a little note too, I bet he’ll notice you after that,” he kept his tone casual, but Miguel couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips.

You looked so eager, willing to take whatever advice. After all, if you were talking about him, you’d take his advice even more seriously, right? It only made sense.

“Maybe you could ask him out on a casual date, nothing too big. Just to see how he reacts,” he teased, way too excited with how you’ll respond.

Will you ask him out now?

“You know…I think I’ll call him now,” you got up to leave the room.

Everything came crashing down on him in an instant. His heart shattered, taking all his hopes with it. So, you weren’t talking about him after all.

“Ah, alright…good luck with that,” he tried to maintain a neutral tone, but the strain in his voice betrayed him.

The weight of his unrequited love pressed heavily on his chest, it was almost palpable. Each step you took away felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

How could he have been so foolish? Of course, it wouldn’t be him.

From the sound of your footsteps, you walked a few doors down, away from his earshot. You probably didn’t want him to overhear.

Sadness and disappointment surrounded him like a suffocating fog as he slumped back at his desk. He hadn’t heard from you in half an hour.

You were either working up the courage to call your love interest or caught in an extended conversation. But what he didn’t expect was to see your name pop up on his phone screen when his phone rang.

Although he didn’t want to hear how your conversation went, he still wanted to be supportive. He loved you too much to ruin your happiness.

He cleared his throat, bracing himself for whatever you had to say, expecting to have his heart shattered again, before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, don’t say ‘hello’ like you haven’t saved my number,” you teased.

Miguel forced out a chuckle, trying to match your lightheartedness. “You got me there. Of course I have your number saved. So, how did it go?” he asked, his voice filled with forced anticipation, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Well, that guy I was talking about earlier…”

You left the sentence hanging, as if daring him to grasp the meaning. Miguel cleared his throat, keeping his composure and hoping his voice wouldn’t betray his pain. “Go on…what happened?”

There was a pause that went on for a few seconds, but it was enough to make his stomach twist as he waited for your response. Finally, you spoke.

“Well, did you know that it was you and were just acting clueless? Or did you not pick that up, yet?” you asked.

Miguel froze, the words processed in his mind. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his grip tightening around the phone near his ear. His mind replayed the conversation you had just shared to see if he missed anything.

Then, a small smile slowly crept on his face, a mix of disbelief and dawning realisation. Now, hearing you confirm that it was true, he couldn’t hide his relief and the warmth that spread across his chest.

“I…uh…had…my suspicions,” he stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. “But hearing you say it now…it means more than you know.”

He paused for a moment, realising he might be sounding too eager, too vulnerable. “But what did you mean when you said ‘did you not pick that up’? Was it…was it not obvious that I had feelings for you too?”

“No, actually.”

A soft sigh of relief escaped Miguel’s lips. He’d tried so hard to keep his feelings for you hidden, fearing rejection to avoid an awkward situation that might follow, especially with you leaving the city.

But knowing now that he hadn’t been as obvious he feared— that you hadn’t noticed— was a strange comfort. Still, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder how things might have been different if he’d confessed first. Would he have had the courage? Probably not, even with your imminent departure.

“Well…now that we both know how we feel, what does that mean for us? Are you…happy that I have feelings for you too?”

“Duh.”

Miguel let out a chuckle at your blasé response. The tension in his chest from earlier was starting to ease, allowing him to bask in the moment.

But the reality of your limited time here was starting to set in, dulling his joy with a stab of regret.

“So…you’re still leaving, huh?” he couldn’t hide the solemn tone in his voice.

“Yeah, I am. But that doesn’t mean this has to end before it starts.”

His heart stuttered at that. “You really think we could make it work.”

“If we both want it, I don’t see why not.” The determination in your voice was palpable, even through the phone. It made him feel more desired than ever.

“I want it. More than anything. And right now, I really want to kiss you.”

“Hold on, let me come to you,” you hung up the phone and Miguel could hear your footsteps getting closer.

Once you finally arrived, you looked back up at him. Miguel could see the eagerness and the tinge of mischief in your eyes.

“Kiss me please.”

At that moment, he knew there was no use waiting any longer. His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

He couldn’t believe this was really happening, he had always dreamed of this moment but now that he was experiencing it in person, it felt too surreal to be real.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his lips moved lovingly against yours. Breaking the kiss, he took a moment to study your face.

He wanted to kiss you again, to tell you sweet nothings that he had been holding back for so long. But he knew he had to compose himself and give you a moment to breathe.

“Lock the doors,” your voice echoed in his mind, sending his mind into a frenzy. He chuckled but still obliged, giving you both a newfound privacy.

Everything else felt like a blur and the next moment, he was unbuttoning your shirt and tossing it to the side. He didn’t waste any time doing the same to your pants.

His throat went dry when he noticed the wet patch on your undies, a sign that you were just as turned on as he was.

Just as infatuated.

It drove him crazy. As he leaned in, he felt your hands hike up under his shirt too. He took this as a sign to remove it, his toned body now in full view. His muscle’s glistened under the light.

He pressed your bare chest against his— the raw feeling of your skin against his was pure ecstasy. He lifted your body with ease and set you on a clear desk.

His body was still pressed against yours as he kissed over your neck and down your collar bone. He felt so lucky to have you in his arms like this, even better in his lab.

You were finally his…

He knelt down between your legs, his hands caressing over each thigh. His lips found your inner thigh, kissing over your skin, dangerously close to your core.

It was his ultimate goal to memorise every curve and crevice of your skin, what made you tick and all your favourite spots you liked to be touched. He wanted to savour this moment as much as he could.

His tongue slowly ran over your soaked cunt, finally getting a taste of you. Immediately, you gasped and your legs twitched in response.

You tasted incredible, or maybe that was just the heat of the moment. He continued to pleasure you with his mouth, his tongue tracing delicious, slow patterns around your sensitive bud.

He heard you gasp out his name which motivated to continue. His hand reached up to intertwine with yours, his touch grounding and tender as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth.

“Oh God…right there, Miguel—”

Your free hand reached into his scalp and gently tugged on his curls. Feeling your hips grinding against his tongue only drove him further, desperate to coax your orgasm.

That’s it…

Give yourself to me.

He knew the moment you reached your peak when he felt you tighten your grip on his hair and cry out his name. Seeing the way you threw your head back in the throes of your climax sent an overwhelming shiver through his body— a sensation he couldn’t describe.

Your body convulsed against his mouth as you squirted on his tongue— and he licked you clean eagerly. Finally, he pulled his mouth away, his tongue leaving your body with a final, tantalising flick.

He ran his fist across his mouth to rid your wetness before rising up to his feet. You were completely spent, your body limp and your breath came out ragged.

Your legs were still shaking from your fresh release. He couldn’t help but glide over your cheeks, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone.

He felt you lean into his touch as he savoured the feel of your skin beneath his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours.

You let out a shaky laugh, catching your breath. “Like this? All sweaty and musty? You must really love me then…”

Only you would throw a sarcastic comment after he ate you out. After a moment of stillness, you came down from your high. He spread your legs apart as he hovered over you on the desk.

The precum that leaked from his tip mixed with your wetness as he positioned his tip over your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself in and was immediately overwhelmed by your cushiony grip over his tip.

Your fingers gripped onto his biceps, keeping yourself steady as he pushed further. Once he bottomed out, you lifted your head to see the light bulge on your belly.

A sense of pride washed over him, seeing your eyes feast on the lewd sight of him filling you up. Every inch of him was all yours.

He dragged himself out with your wetness coating his dick before pushing back in again. His body moved against yours in a perfect harmony, every motion was driven to heighten the pleasure between the two of you.

As the ecstasy reached a new height, Miguel’s body trembled slightly. He couldn’t resist letting out a soft moan followed by your name, his voice filled with all the love he had for you.

“Just like that…” you murmured against his lips.

Hearing your praise, Miguel’s lips curled into a smile, his expression filled with a mixture of confidence and pride.

Every stroke hit a new depth, sending a shiver through both of you.

All he could think about was being connected with you in every way possible. Physically. Emotionally. He angled himself so his pelvic bone could rub and stimulate your bundle of nerves.

“Miguel-!”

You let out a cry when he changed his pace, your nails digging into his back. He wanted you to feel him for weeks, remembering this night. Each sharp, precise thrust, hitting your sweet spot over and over and driving you over the edge.

He could feel his own peak crawling up with each passing second. His thrusts grew more desperate and frenzied, aiming to chase his high with your body wrapped around his own.

“Look at me…I want to see you,” he breathed.

The sight of you under him, taking everything he was giving you, sent him over the edge. His body tensed as he reached the pinnacle of his own climax.

With one last thrust deep into your heat, his cum pulsated into you in strong waves. He stayed balled deep until each were drained and waited for a moment before he pulled his hips back.

He felt withdrawal as he released himself from your grip, his deflated dick now hung between his legs.

His body slumped weakly against yours, the intensity of the moment leaving him content and blissfully exhausted. The world around him faded into the background. In that instant, everything felt perfect.

The pulse in his ears gradually quieted to a gentle hum, and his muscles started to relax as he settled against you.

As he kept his arms around you, holding you close, he felt at peace for the first time in what felt like ages. It all felt so right— like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wanted to stay like this, savouring the closeness, but your soft gasp tugged at his concerns.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still feeling lightheaded from the afterglow. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly sat up on the desk, adjusting your clothes with a sense of urgency. “We need to put our clothes back on.”

The seriousness in your voice jolted back into reality. The sterile scent of the lab and the harsh fluorescent lights snapped into sharp focus, reminding him where you were. He carefully pulled himself away from you, his mind scrambling to catch up.

As he gathered his clothes from the floor and desk, the remnants of your passion, he couldn’t help but glance back at you— disheveled, flushed and utterly captivating.

Once he was fully dressed, he looked at you with amusement. “I think we can slip out before anyone asks what we’ve been up to,” he teased with a grin.

You buttoned your shirt, still appearing slightly frantic. “Did we make a mess?”

Miguel scanned the lab, his eyes sweeping over the desk and the floor. He didn’t spot any obvious signs of a mess, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The weight of what had just happened hung in the air.

Still, the room would be locked overnight— no one would see anything.

“Well…” he replied with a casual shrug. “I’m not too worried about any physical evidence. As long as they didn’t hear you cry out my name.”

You shot him a mildly annoyed look, pressing your lips together. “We should clock out before anyone suspects us.”

Just as you were about to move, Miguel gently pulled your arm. “Before we go…I need to know if this is something you truly want. Not just a temporary escape.” His voice was soft with vulnerability as he searched your eyes.

Your lips curled up into a reassuring smile. “Let’s go out to dinner and talk more there.”

Miguel’s eyes sparkled, the tension on his shoulders lifting. The idea of an intimate dinner, just the two of you, felt like the perfect addition to the connection you had just deepened.

He felt a sense of triumph as he allowed himself to experience this with you after the long, silent yearning.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d love to have dinner,”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

Miguel quickly switched off the lights and locked up before taking your hand in his. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, leaving the lab— and its memories— behind.

~

Miguel sat behind the wheel of his car, gripping on the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. You both agreed that he’d drive you to the airport, allowing you to spend these last moments together.

The car ride was silent, save for the occasional crackling of the chip packet in your hands. Miguel's eyes flickered towards you as you reached for another chip. You seemed calm and collected, but he knew better.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence, but nothing came out. Words that normally flowed so easily from him were caught in his throat. What could he possibly say that would make it any easier?

“Do you want some?” you offered, holding out the bag.

He shook his head, lips twitching into a forced smile. “I’m not really hungry right now.”

His eyes were back on the road. The thought of food was the furthest thing from his mind right now. All he could think about was the impending goodbye as the streets of Nueva York blurred past.

“Are you okay?” your voice, a soft caress.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. Of course he wasn’t okay. How could he be? But he nodded anyway, giving you a reassuring smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m fine…just a little nervous about dropping you off at the airport, that’s all.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either.

The truth was too raw, too painful, to voice. He didn’t want to admit how devastating he was and burden you with his feelings, not now.

“I’ve never done anything this big before.” you confessed. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice. “Moving to a completely different state…”

He felt a mix of sadness and pride in his chest. He was so proud of you for taking such a big step, but at the same time, he wished things were different and you could stay with him a little longer.

If only he had known sooner, maybe he would have had the courage to confess— to hold you close and never let you go. To have you to himself just a little longer.

“I know, it’s a big deal,” he tried to sound comforting. “But you’re smart, and capable, and I know you’re gonna do amazing.”

“Thanks, I needed that reassurance.” you sighed. “I’m a little nervous. What if I don’t fit in and I’m too…Nueva York-y for them.”

With one hand, Miguel reached over and gently squeezed your thigh, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

He tried to radiate some of his warmth and comfort, despite his emotions swirling like a vortex inside him.

“You’re going to fit in just fine. You’re the most adaptable person I know. And even if you are a bit ‘Nueva York-y’, as you put it, I think the people of North Carolina could use a bit of that.”

He glanced back at you, catching the flicker of unease in your eyes. It was refreshing to know that, despite your excitement, you were still feeling the same apprehension that had been eating him.

It gave a sense of connection— knowing this change was just as daunting to you as it was for him.

“You’re going to enlighten them with your 'Nuyorican’ charm, trust me,” he said lightly.

As the airport car park came into view, Miguel felt a shudder. The moment of truth was closing in with each passing second. The parking lot was busy, surrounded by the hum of engines and the distant echo of rolling suitcases.

Once he found a parking space, he switched off the engine and sighed— the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Part of him wanted to stay rooted in his seat, to delay the inevitable just a little longer.

But he knew better. There was no escaping this. No loophole.

Even if it killed him.

He stepped out of the car and opened the trunk. The reality of the situation was hitting him as he helped you with your luggage. This was really happening.

Inside the terminal, the building was bustling with activity— people rushing to catch flights, families reunited, and others parting with goodbyes. The overhead announcements echoed across the vast space, creating a backdrop of noise.

But the chaos felt distant to Miguel, like it was happening in another world. His entire focus was on the small details of you— how tightly you gripped the suitcase handle, the way your eyes darted around and scanning signs to find where you were supposed to go.

Every little movement you made seemed to carve into his memory, as if he were trying to etch these final moments into his mind.

He tried to keep himself distracted by glancing at the departure board, watching to see when your flight’s status changed to ‘boarding’. Meanwhile, you checked in your flight and dropped off any checked baggage.

Once that was done, Miguel walked with you to the security gates. His heart grew heavier with each step. The moment of separation was looking closer and closer like a looming shadow.

“Alright…this is it…” you announced, finally reaching the security gates. Only ticketed passengers could pass, so this was where he would have to let you go.

There were a few guards already waving people through, urging the crowd to keep moving. The noise of shuffling feet, distant conversations, and the occasional beep of the scanners filled the air, but it all seemed muted to Miguel. He looked back at you one last time, his heart hammering in his chest.

He wanted to say something— anything— to keep you from leaving. Words like ‘don’t go’ or ‘I love you’ hovered on the top of his tongue, but he knew they were pointless. You were leaving, the ticket was booked, and nothing he could say would change that.

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you…” the word felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But they were the only truth he could manage.

He knew it was pathetic to confess that now, like it wasn’t obvious already, like it was going to change anything.

“I want to give you something…” you reached for your bag, and Miguel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw what you pulled out— a Polaroid picture.

He took the picture from you, a nostalgic smile spread across your face when he saw the image. It was a picture from your early days at Alchemax, back when he had still been pretending to be annoyed with you.

In the photo, he was giving his signature grumpy glare, arms crossed over his broad chest, while you stood behind him and grinning widely. You were not bothered at all by his gruff demeanor.

“I wanted to wait until the last minute to give it to you,” you rubbed your neck sheepishly.

Miguel chuckled at your words. It was so typical of you, waiting to give him something special at just the right moment.

“Of course you did.” he replied fondly, his fingers tracing the picture gently. He slipped the photo in his wallet, a place where he could keep it close. “It’s perfect…thank you,”

It was more than just a picture, it was a snapshot of a moment in time, a memory he’d hold onto long after you were gone.

You look back up at him, your expression earnest and vulnerable. “Bésame?”

“Con mucho gusto, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he closed the distance between the two of you.

He cradled your face in his hands, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His lips traced over the contour of yours, savouring the moment before fully capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was everything— desperate, filled with unspoken words and unfulfilled yearnings. He wanted to hold onto this moment forever, to keep you with him like this just a little longer, but he knew he had to let you go.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, though he rested his forehead on yours, his breath becoming in ragged gasps.

“Be safe, okay?” he murmured.

“I’ll call you when I land...if I get any signal,” you replied with a shaky smile.

You start to queue up for the security gates, your luggage trailing behind you. Miguel’s heart twists as the line slowly gets shorter, the distance between you growing with each passing second.

He couldn’t do anything but watch with his hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His eyes were fixated on your figure, memorising every last detail of you.

He knew that once you went through those gates, he would never be able to kiss you, or hold you, or touch you.

Just as you disappeared out of sight, behind the security gates, the airport intercom called out your flight number and announced the final boarding call.

He watched the departure board change to ‘In Air’ which was the final push to turn away. He walked back to his car, the Polaroid photo in his wallet burned into his psyche.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @nina-from-317 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @cupcakeinat0r @club-danger-zone @kavimoo

@fullmetalgizzy @frogs-and-oscar-brainrot @embearlyhere @soymiguelsesposa @twwcs

@safixiovi @tatatida @ghostsdoll @hyjionie @tomalymme

@saintdiior

Look, I know the smut seems a little rushed here but I didn’t want to focus on the spice in this story but rather the bittersweet, emotionally rollercoaster.

Ayrus xoxo

[zablife]

Missing You

Benny Cross x gf reader

Summary: After a wreck puts you in the hospital, Benny takes off. Will he return or leave you with more than just a broken leg?

Warnings: hospital setting, injury, brief mention of motorcycle accident, fear of abandonment, angst with fluffy ending

A/N: My first fic for The Bikeriders, pls be kind! Comments are love so leave me some 💕 No spoilers here!

Divider credit @firefly-graphics

Benny Cross Masterlist

You turned in the narrow hospital bed, head throbbing from the pain and the bright overhead light in your eyes. "Benny," you mumbled, head fuzzy and mouth feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton.

"Isn't there anyone else we could call?" a tired voice asked from far away. "A relative? Parents?"

There was a shuffle and whispering that sounded like a passing cloud over your head. "No one...she doesn't speak to...don't make it worse, please. He'll be back."

You tried to sit up to see what was happening, but you felt a wave a nausea which stopped you suddenly. Screwing your eyes shut to will it away, the gentle rocking only continued, making you whimper.

"Shhh, lie back, honey," a warm voice instructed, pressing you down into the soft pillows. You felt the warmth of a hand encasing yours as reassuring words poured over you like honey. "They put you under to fix that busted leg, but you're gonna be fine now. Just need a little rest, that's all."

You blinked slowly and opened your eyes once more, fixing your gaze on Johnny's wife, Betty. She gave you a small smile and you felt yourself relax at the sight of her kind eyes. Much like Johnny had for Benny, she had become a role model for you, teaching you how to make a life with the Vandals. Now she was more of a mother to you than your flesh and blood.

"Wh-where's Benny?" you asked, a bit more coherently than you'd managed before.

Betty busied herself pouring some water into a cup for you and your heart began to race, wondering if she was stalling. The memories were coming back to you in full force now, Benny carrying you into the hospital after the crash, yelling at the nurses and doctors. Had he abandoned you then because of the trouble or later when he learned of the care you'd require? You felt hot tears welling in your lash line as you realized this might be the end.

As she turned back to you with the cup, Betty's face fell. Sighing gently, she confirmed your worst fears. "He's not coming back tonight, Y/n."

You couldn't stop the sobs that wracked your body, shoulders shaking and chest heaving with the weight of her words. She allowed you a moment of despair, a hand stroking down your back in soothing circles. When that didn't seem to comfort you, she asked, "Don't you remember the nurses asking Benny to leave?"

Stifling a cry, you sniffed, "No, what are you talking about?"

"I thought you knew."

"Benny stayed?"

"Sure he did, paced all night. Got himself so worked up, he punched a hole in the wall over there! They told him he had to show himself the door or the cops would," Betty explained, the rush of words leaving her mouth so quickly you barely comprehended it all.

You inhaled a deep breath, feeling lightheaded from the relief. "He still wants me?" you mumbled to yourself. There had always been a deep fear coursing through you that someday Benny would take off and never come back. You'd been warned many times he was a man who liked his freedom.

"He still what?" Betty asked, looking at you in confusion. "Sweetie it's none of my business, but I think you should try to sleep now."

Nodding in agreement, you sunk beneath the hospital blankets, exhaustion quickly overtaking your tired mind.

When your eyes reopened, sunlight was pouring through the blinds. A lazy smile spread across your face as you realized your head was no longer pounding with the incessant pain from yesterday. Though your leg now ached in its place and an irritating itch inside your cast was nagging you, somehow you had a good feeling about the day ahead. Stretching your arms above your head, you startled at the sound of a familiar, deep voice.

"Hi baby."

Your heart caught in your chest, too afraid to look if it was actually him.

"Ain't you gonna say hello?" Benny asked, his handsome face hovering over you like a blue eyed angel.

"Oh, Benny," you whimpered, eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, hey...don't cry," he urged, sweeping your hair away for a cautious kiss. You strained to meet the soft press of his full lips against yours, leaning into the gentle touch of his fingertips lacing through your hair. He kept his weight from you, careful not to worsen the bruising he knew you'd sustained to your ribs.

As his beard brushed your cheek, the gravel in his voice rumbled into your chest along with the words you'd longed to hear, "I missed my girl."

"I missed you. What the hell happened?"

Benny chuckled, his teeth shining in that mischievous grin he wore when he knew he'd been caught. His gaze turned toward the crumbling plaster he'd left in the wake of his anger, straightening his denim jacket as he confessed, "Mighta made some trouble."

"I heard," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Betty told me, but she didn't say why," you prodded with a raised eyebrow.

Benny pulled up a chair, taking your hand between his large calloused palms. "Listen, I want you to know somethin."

You furrowed your brow uncertain where he was headed.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand as he spoke, his speech slow and tender as you'd never heard him before. A man of few words you weren't prepared for what came next. "I know you don't have kin...kin that claim you anyway." You stared down at his rings, watching them glimmer in the light as he chewed his lip in concentration, choosing his next words carefully. "We been riding together a couple of years now and you gotta know by now that I'll never leave you behind."

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you realized how wrong you'd been, misjudging your boyfriend in a moment of fear. The reputation Benny had as a loner who only looked out for himself simply wasn't true. The love you felt for each other was real, he was telling you so right now. The thought stirred butterflies in your stomach the likes of which you hadn't felt since you met.

Reaching for his face, you cupped his blonde scruff as you proclaimed, "I want to be with you too."

His eyes fell to the floor, thick lashes downcast as he was overcome by a sudden rush of shyness. Perhaps he'd already said too much, revealed a part of himself he kept hidden for fear of exposing weakness. However, you were reveling in it, especially when he raised his head to add another word of praise just for you.

"I was proud of you when we went down. Took it like a champ, you know?"

It was your turn to look away, blush creeping up your neck as you shook your head in vehement denial.

"No, I mean it. The first thing you asked when they got you in here was when you was gonna ride again!" he chuckled at the memory.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"Yeah, the nurses all thought you were crazy. Said so too," he recalled, bitterness rolling off his tongue. He sighed heavily as he admitted, "That's why I punched the wall."

Staring up at the ceiling, you finally connected all the pieces and let out a little huff. It was soon followed by a snort, then a rolling wave of laughter as you were unable to contain your amusement at your boyfriend's classic impulsiveness. All the hurt and pain melted away as you realized it had all been a wayward attempt to defend you.

"M glad you think it's funny I almost got arrested," he protested.

"And I got a broken leg, Benny!" you countered sternly.

"You win," he conceded with a grin.

Looking down at the cast you turned sullen. "Can't ride with you now."

"Says who?" he asked, drawing close to you. His bright eyes danced with spirited challenge, daring you to defy him.

"I just thought..." you stumbled, feeling all willpower leave your body. When Benny asked something of you, the only answer was yes.

"You go where I go. We make trouble together, remember?" he said, sliding an arm over your waist and pulling you into him for another slow, sensual kiss.

"Sure do, don't we?" you agreed, moving in unison with him. Clutching onto his jacket you asked, "We going home now? I'm done missing you."

[tropes-and-tales]

It's That Simple

Day 16:  Praise Kink (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Light angst, kinda (Bob gets deflated); talk of panic attacks and self-doubt; smut (handjob); 18+ only.

Word Count:  5656

AN:  This was requested by an anon!

AN2: If you've been around a bit, you know the drill: this isn't edited or re-read or beta'ed.

It’s another terrible first date.

Bob struggles to even snag a first date.  He’s unassuming; he lacks the swagger and extroversion to stroll up to a woman and talk her up.  Most of his dates are obtained from other members of the Daggers—double dates, set-ups, stuff like that.

The latest one was set up by Fanboy, a friend of his sister.  Within moments of meeting his date, Bob knows it’ll be a mess:  she makes a face when she greets him at the door, and it goes downhill from there.

It ends when she gets a text.  An emergency, she tells him, and Bob is too smart and perceptive to buy the lie.  But he’s a gentleman, so he nods seriously and offers to drive her home or wherever she’s needed, which she declines.  He pays the bill of their abortive dinner, and he pretends not to notice how his date practically skips out of the restaurant and into the waiting car of a friend.

He should go home to lick his wounds.  Another failed date, another night alone.  He sees the stretch of his life in front of him and despairs that he’ll ever meet someone, and he should go home to sulk, but he goes to the Hard Deck instead.

He might as well break the news to Fanboy, at least, and maybe Nat can cheer him up with her usual sarcastic humor.

-----

The Hard Deck is as packed as always, and Bob—in his date clothes of dress pants and a button down shirt—stands out among the uniformed pilots and fellow wizzos.  He finds the Dagger Squad, confesses his failure to Fanboy, then settles into a stool near Nat and Rooster.

Nat puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze.  “I’m sorry, Bob,” she says.

“Her loss,” Rooster offers.

Bob shrugs.  It’s not anyone’s loss but his, but he offers them a weak smile that fools neither of them.

It’s Hangman who sidles up to Bob, and in an uncharacteristic moment of thoughtfulness, the cocky pilot offers to be his wingman—which makes Bob laugh, and it comes out laced with some bitterness.

“No offense, Bagman, but you’d be a terrible wingman,” Bob says.

“What?  Why?”

Bob lifts his hands in a helpless shrug.  “Because you’re….you.  And I’m not like you at all.”

“So?”

He scoffs in frustration at Bagman being so obtuse.  As if any woman would look at Bob if he walked up to them with Jake at his side.  It’d be like an Aston Martin rolling up alongside an old Honda Civic, and that’s the analogy he uses to make Jake understand.  But Jake shakes his head, clasps him on his shoulders and gives him a friendly shake.

“Nah, Baby on Board.  You got it all wrong.  You just need some confidence.”  Another teeth-rattling shake.  “Trust me, there’s a girl out there for you.  C’mon.”

Bob finds himself powerless to resist as Jake pushes him off of his stool, then shoves him gently in the direction of the crowded bar.

-----

The first pair that Jake sidles up to is a bust, but it’s not Bob’s fault:  Jake had hooked up with the one woman before, forgotten about it completely.  He’s moments from getting a drink tossed in his face when Bob tugs him away from the danger and they pull back, reevaluate.

The second pair is a bust too.  The first woman doesn’t even let Jake get the full sentence out before she’s wagging her ring finger in his face.

“Married,” she says, her words clipped.  “Move along, sailor.”

The third pair?  The third pair works out.  Jake hones in on one immediately, a blonde with big doe eyes, but the second one—you—rolls her eyes at him.

But when you turn to study Bob, you don’t roll your eyes.  You hold out a hand, introduce yourself, ask for his rank, then pat the empty chair beside you.

“Settle in, Lieutenant,” and your smile is easy.  “Let’s chat while we watch your friend strike out, huh?”

-----

It turns out you’re drunk, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

For one, you’ve fallen in with Bob Floyd, the most gentlemanly man a drunk, single girl could come across.  He’d never take advantage, and in fact, he’ll end up driving you home at the end of the night, getting you into your apartment.  He will take your shoes off of you, tuck you into your bed, and press a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen on you before he sees himself out.

For another thing, Bob Floyd has fallen in with you, the most fiercely sweet drunk that a down-on-himself man could come across.  You’re one of those loud cheerleader types when you drink; the kind of woman who chats up other women in the bathroom, who tells them they’re beautiful, that you love them.  With your friend and Jake otherwise engaged, Bob finds himself caught in the tractor beam of your charm.

“You look sad,” you tell him around the rim of your glass.  “Are you sad?”

You’re drunk and Bob is sad, and you’re staring at him with wide eyes that glitter in the low light of the bar, so he tells you.  He tells you about his terrible date, the latest in a string of terrible dates, that he’s been single for so long and he’s not entirely convinced he’ll ever meet someone, that he’s too scrawny, that his glasses are terrible (one date called them serial killer glasses), that he’s too reserved to ever catch the eye of a woman, too unremarkable looking, let alone—

“No!”  You cut him off by exclaiming it, a near-shout, and your hand finds his forearm and grips him there.  “You’re gorgeous, Bill!  Don’t even say you aren’t!”

He grins despite himself.  “It’s Bob.  But thanks.  I mean, it’s nice of you to say—”

“Bob.  Yes.  Sorry.  Bob, not Bill.  I say it because it’s true.”  You release your hold on his arm and sit back in your chair, your eyes narrowed now as you study him closer.  You’re quiet for a long beat, and Bob squirms under your attention, but then you tell him more and he swears he breaks out in a full-body blush.

“You’re gorgeous, really,” you tell him.  “It’s just that you have a sneakier handsomeness, you know?  Like, that one there—” You gesture broadly at Jake.  “—He’s, like, Ken-doll handsome.  Like, he catches your eye because it’s all symmetrical and stuff, and he’s fine, but symmetry can be boring and someone like you, it’s sneaky.  You have a nice face, and these nice blue eyes, and nice hair, and I bet people think about you after the fact like, ‘oh, that Bob guy, he’s not bad at all,’ and then even later it’s like, ‘oh, Bob, he’s pretty handsome.’  Because you’re that sneaky sort of handsome and that’s the worst damned kind.”

Bob isn’t entirely tracking what you mean, but he shakes his head at the unearned praise, and he can’t stop the smile that’s plastered on his face.  He probably looks like a dope.

“Why’s that the worst kind?” he asks.

“Because it’s deadly!”  You lean forward again, put your hand on his arm again.  “Sneaky-handsome guys are like a virus because by the time you realize they’ve infected you, it’s too late.”

Bob chuckles.  “I’m a virus?  Suddenly my night has gotten worse, somehow.”

“No, not at all.  It’s just…”  You trail off, polish off your drink.  You wave down Penny for another.  “It’s just that you sneaky-handsome types never understand the power you have.  Ken-doll over there knows he’s hot, and by the mere fact of him knowing he’s hot, he loses a considerable amount of hotness.  But you have no idea you’re handsome, and that makes you even hotter.”

“I think there’s a string of women in the San Diego area that would disagree with your assessment,” Bob replies.  “But I appreciate the compliment, nonetheless.”

“Oh, them.”  You flap a hand, a dismissive wave.  “There’s a lot of idiots in the world, Bob.  You can’t let a string of women in the San Diego area make you feel bad.”

“I guess I just need to find someone who isn’t an idiot.”

“Ah, well!”  You set your drink down and wave your hands in front of yourself in a ta-da sort of flourish.  “Cal Tech graduate, Bobby.  I work for NASA.”

He feels a warm flush at you calling him Bobby.  “You’re a rocket scientist?  Definitely not an idiot, then.”

“Astrobiologist, actually.  And only an idiot sometimes, but never when it comes to the sneaky-handsome men here at the Hard Deck.”

Bob shakes his head, a little embarrassed at how much he likes you, a drunk stranger, talking him up.  He tries to dial it back, afraid he’s going to fall in love before last call.

“You’re way too smart for me, then,” he tells you.

That makes you arch an eyebrow at him.  “You afraid of smart women, Bobby?”

“Not at all.  It’s just that smart, beautiful, and sweet?  Do you understand the power you have?”  He keeps his tone light, teasing, but he’s in over his head with this:  he’s definitely going to fall in love before last call.

Of course he is.  His question makes you laugh, a warm sound that knocks free the lump in his chest from his earlier failed date.  Your laughter makes him feel drunk even though he hasn’t touched a drop; he feels warm and light and big-headed at how kind you’ve been to him, how sweet, but your laughter is the sound that makes him fall in love with you.

-----

The two of you stay until last call.  Bagman and your friend disappear hours before then, and you shrug at Bob, say you called it all wrong, that you didn’t think Jake was your friend’s type.

Bob drives you home.  You’re unsteady on your feet, so he hovers near you, but you manage reasonably well until it’s time to unlock your door.  He watches you try it, then he reaches out and takes the keys from your hand.

It’s the first time he touches you.

He gets you inside.  He gets you to your bedroom, and you flop gracelessly across the mattress, and Bob immediately goes into caretaker mode.  He slides your shoes off of you, sets them in a neat row by your closet.  He makes his way to your kitchen, gets you a glass of water, then stops in the bathroom.  He rummages through your medicine cabinet—you use the same brand of toothpaste as he does, the same type of toothbrush, and Bob marvels at the strange intimacy of learning these things, the everyday things that not everyone is privy to about you.  He finds some ibuprofen and shakes two out, then takes them and the water back to you.

You’re already drifting off to sleep, and Bob has to cajole you into sitting up.  He gets you perched on the side of the bed and gives you the pills and water, which you take without complaints.  He takes the empty glass back from you, and then there’s a moment—

—you sit on the edge of your bed and Bob stands over you, and you look up at him with your bleary eyes and he sees fear.  You’re understanding what you’ve done, maybe:  you’ve invited a strange man back to your place and you’re drunk, and he could do anything, and Bob sees the flicker of uncertainty, the beginning of fear in your eyes.  It makes him feel sick because he’d never take advantage.  It makes him sick that the world, being what the world is, makes this fear lance through the whiskey fumes in your head.

He reaches down to the foot of your bed where there’s a blanket neatly folded.  He shakes it out, urges you to lie down, and when you do, he covers you up.

“Be sure to drink more water when you wake up,” he tells you softly. 

The nascent fear fades out of your expression, and it’s replaced by a loose, goofy grin.  You free a hand from under the blanket and give him a sloppy salute.  “Aye, aye, captain.”

Bob sees himself out but not before he’s struck with a bit of brave optimism.  He sees the little whiteboard by your refrigerator, and he writes out his name and his number.  He drives home and sends up a silent prayer that his sneaky-handsome virus has already infected you, charmed as he is by your earnestly drunken (albeit clunky) analogy from earlier in the evening.

He wakes up the next morning and feels less hopeful.  He queues up a playlist and sets out on his morning run, but his morning pessimism is misplaced:  you call him a mile into his run, and Bob stutters in his steps to hear your voice—a little rough, but sunny nonetheless.

“I’m looking for a guy named Bobby,” you tell him over the phone, and he can hear the smile in your voice.  “Lieutenant Blue Eyes.”

-----

The two of you make plans to meet up at the Hard Deck, but you don’t call it a date so Bob doesn’t either.  He’s in unfamiliar territory:  things have always been a date or not a date in the past, but he’s noticed that many of his Dagger teammates speak in looser terms—meeting up, hanging out—with potential partners.  He’s unsure how to handle it; if he seems too casual, you might miss his interest.  If he comes on too strong, he might scare you off.

He decides to just turn up in his uniform, as he usually does, and when he arrives at the Hard Deck, you are already there.  You’re perched in a bar stool and chatting to Penny, but when he strolls in, you see him.

You smile at him as he walks over to you, but then you shake your head in a mock-rueful way.

“Oh, no,” you say as you hop off of your stool.  You open your arms and Bob steps into them, and you hug him warmly like you’re old friends.  “I thought maybe it was just whiskey-goggles that night, but you really are cute.”

Bob chuckles.  He releases you, then takes the stool beside yours.  “Well, I’ve been downgraded.  You called me handsome that night,” he points out.

“Sneaky-handsome, actually.”

“There seems to be a whole spectrum here that I was never privy to.”

You wave down Penny who comes and takes your orders.  Once your drinks are in front of you—a hard cider for you, a shandy for Bob—you click your glass against his.

“Here’s to the sneaky-handsome men of the world,” you say.

Bob ducks his head and grins  “And to the rocket scientists,” he adds.

A date or not a date…the evening passes in a blink, and you leave Bob that night entirely sober after long conversations and a lot of easy laughter.  You pull him in for another hug before you part, and this hug lingers longer than the hug you gave him as a greeting.  When you pull away, though, you gaze at him with a somber expression.

“I wanted to thank you for the other night,” you tell him.  “For being a gentleman when you took me home.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean it.”  Your hands on his upper arms squeeze him a little firmer.  “You could have taken advantage, and you didn’t.  You’re a good one, Bob.”

He shakes his head, tries to wave you off, but you squeeze him again.  You don’t let him shrug off your thanks.  You don’t let him downplay his goodness.

“You are a good man, Bob,” you repeat, and you stare at him, like you’re daring him to disagree. 

Bob, who finds that you’re something of a force to be reckoned with, wouldn’t dare to disagree.

-----

He’s still not entirely clear if this is dating or not.  Neither of you actually says the word.  You text each other steadily, and you meet up sometimes at the Hard Deck, but your schedule isn’t great and Bob’s is even worse.  He worries that he’s missed his chance.  When he talks about it to the other Daggers, Hangman rolls his eyes and tells Bob he should have taken his shot earlier, that Bob is pretty much friend-zoned now, but Nat rolls her eyes at that and says he’s overthinking it.

Of course Bob overthinks it.  Bob overthinks everything.

He doesn’t know yet that you overthink everything too.  That you are going through your own pangs of regret, that you think you’ve missed your chance too, that your friends circle around you too and give you tough-love pep talks to build up your courage to take the lead on this burgeoning thing with Bob.

And ultimately, Bob’s hunch that you’re a force to be reckoned with is correct.  In the end, you take charge.

-----

You end up inviting him over for dinner on a night when your schedules align, and Bob overthinks that too. 

What if it’s a date-date, and he turns up too casual, with nothing in his hands—no wine, no flowers?  Or the opposite—what if he dresses up a little, brings you a mixed bouquet, and it’s just a casual friends-type thing?

Bob has no idea how he can manage the systems on a sophisticated plane because his brain grinds to a painful halt the moment he starts to contemplate this dinner at your place.  It’s Nat—it’s always Nat, with her no-nonsense lens into the mystique of her fellow women—who smacks some sense into him.

“Wear a nice shirt, shower beforehand, and take a bottle of wine,” she tells him.

“But what if—”

“It’s always polite to take a gift, Bob.”  She rolls her eyes, heaves a sigh.  “And it’s always polite to, you know.  Shower.  Show up fresh-smelling and neat.  Jesus Christ.  Just go.”

So Bob turns up at your apartment, a mid-tier bottle of wine in his sweaty hand.  Freshly showered, a daub of cologne behind his ears, and a nice blue button-down that brings out his eyes. 

And it’s a good thing he took Nat’s advice too, because you open the door in the sweetest sundress, and there’s music softly playing and the most heavenly smells wafting from your kitchen.  Bob realizes all at once that it’s a date-date after all, and his heart does an alarming little stutter in his chest, enough to stun him until you take his hand and gently pull him inside.

-----

Part of Bob’s issue with women is his inability to pick up on subtle, sometimes invisible cues.  He has always fallen in with the sort of women who play mind games, who play coy and say one thing while meaning another.  He always feels back on his heels; it feels like women speak a language he’s only slightly fluent in, so he’s always playing catch-up to translate what they mean.

But it’s refreshing with you, in this moment, because as you both sit down to the feast you’ve prepared, you just talk with him.  The two of you chat about your lives, you catch each other up since the last time you’ve talked, and Bob almost forgets to be nervous.

Almost.  A pair of tapered candles flicker between you and cast your lovely face in a golden glow, and low, bluesy music sets the soundtrack as you eat.  You sip at the wine he brought, and he eats your home-cooking, and Bob imagines an entire life like this…and he almost misses the way you keep swiping your palms along your thighs, like you’re nervous.

Almost.  He leans into his WSO work, studies you closely like you’re a dashboard of lights and alarms and switches.  He watches you a little closer, and he sees the way your throat bobs when you swallow a mouthful of wine, like you’re swallowing past a lump or going all dry-mouthed on him.  He sees the deep breaths you take, the way you press the back of your hand to your neck, like you’re flushed and trying to calm yourself.

“You’re nervous,” he blurts out when he realizes it for sure, and you pause in where you’re lifting the wine glass to your mouth and stare at him.

“I am.”  It’s that simple.  No mind games, no coy pretending. 

“It’s just me,” Bob says.

You smile at him, and it trembles a little at the corners.  He can feel the nerves in you now, and he reaches out a hand across the table, palm up.  He makes a grabby motion with it until your smile firms up and you lay your hand in his, and he grasps you lightly.

“It’s just me,” he repeats.

“And I like just-you,” you tell him.  “Like-like, I mean.  I wanted to tell you so tonight.”

His heart does that wicked little stutter in his chest, but he squeezes your hand.  “Sounds like you just told me then.”

“Guess so.”  You watch him, and your smile seems tremulous again, so Bob replies, “I like you too.”

It’s that simple.  After you each put yourself through your own overthinking hell, each suffering through your own sleepless nights and needless worrying about dumb things like friend zones, it comes down to a moment so simple that it’s stupid:  just the two of you holding hands as you confess your mutual feelings matter-of-factly.

-----

It feels too easy.  After months (years) of struggling to even land the occasional first date, suddenly Bob’s dream girl turns up just like that.  It feels too easy, and so Bob slips into his overthinking almost immediately.

It goes fine after dinner, when the two of you trade nervous kisses on your couch until the nerves burn off enough that your mouth slotted over his feels natural, that you move in concert with each other—your head tilting one way, his tilting the other, no longer bumping noses or knocking his glasses askew. 

It goes fine as you climb into his lap, the solid weight of you a welcome sensation because Bob’s head feels like it’s filled with helium, drunk and fizzy from the feel of your lips against his, your tongue against his own.

It goes fine when you climb off of him, shaky-legged like a newborn foal.  When you hold out your hand and take his to lead him back to your bedroom.

The moment he finds himself stripped down to his boxers and lying on your bed is the moment it falls apart.

It’s like every mean comment, every brush-off and ghosting, every roll of the eyes and beleaguered sigh and overheard commentary about him crowds into the room and leaves no space for this moment with you.  Bob thinks of all the feedback he’s ever gotten on dates—the serial killer eye glasses, the lack of muscles, the lack of game.  He tries to take a deep breath and finds he can barely pull in a lungful, and his throat feels like it’s closing on him—

And he can’t get hard.  His near-erection from making out on the couch deflates, and even though you are perched over him—you’ve shed your sundress, and you’re in the sexiest, sweetest lingerie set, powder pink, like the underside of a cloud at sunrise—he cannot coax himself back to attention.

The panic that floods him—he recognizes the feeling.  He’s felt it a million times.  He feels the hot, splotchy redness as it breaks out across his chest and neck, and his face flushes furiously bright, and you notice it all in real time.  The sultry, heavy-lidded look on your face disappears and is replaced by pure concern.

“Bob?  Bobby?  Are you…okay?”  You reach a hand out and cup his face, and your palm had felt warm earlier but now it feels cool….which proves how hot he’s flushed, how feverish his panic makes him feel.

“I’m sorry.  Shit, honey.  I’m…I gotta go.”  He tries to sit up but your mattress is soft and he flails a moment, and if Bob were just a bit younger he’d burst into tears at how sideways this has all gone so suddenly.  You served him up the perfect evening, you’re kneeling right beside him in the hottest fucking lingerie, and he’s been reduced to a stuttering, red-face idiot who can’t even get hard—

“Hey.”  You lay your hand on his bare chest, steady him.  “Hey, hey, hey.  Take a second.  Just breathe, Bobby.”

“I gotta—”

“Just relax.”  You press against his chest, tap your forefinger against his skin.  “Breathe for me, okay?  Everything’s fine.”

“It’s not.  Fuck, it’s not!”  He raises his voice, winces at how shrill he sounds, and the dam in him breaks.  Something in him dislodges, and it all spills out:  every mean, rotten thing he’s ever thought about himself.  Every bit of unfair criticism, every insult and slight and how his own insecurity has twisted it all into a crippling imposter syndrome.  How he only ever feels competent at his job but how he struggles with everything else, and now how he’s fucked it all up with you because he’s overthinking, always trapped in the own tangled maze of his mind, always waiting for the other shoe to drop because he’s not good enough, he can’t even get hard even with you looking like a dream—

“Hey.  Whoa.”  You remove your hand from his chest, but you scoot over to sit beside him, turned to face him, your expression very similar to the night he met you—the same easy smile, the same studious eyes.

“Nothing’s ruined.  You haven’t fucked anything up.  Take a breath.  Is this because of that bad first date you had the night we met?”

He nods.  “A little bit.”

“There’s been other bad first dates, I guess?”

Another nod.

“And now you’re worried this is just another bad first date?”

“Yeah.”  It comes out a croak, a roughness in his throat. 

“Hmm.”  You lean forward, press a soft kiss to his forehead.  “You wanna hear about my worst first date ever?”

“No, honey, it’s okay—”

“His name was Justin.”  Another soft kiss, this one to his temple.  “Good job, good looking.”  Another kiss, to the other temple, right at his hairline.  “Picked me up and gave me flowers, took me out to San Diego’s most exclusive restaurant that has a reservation list a mile long.”

Bob chuckles weakly.  “Sounds awful,” he says, wry.

You hum again, kiss his flushed cheek.  “He was charming at dinner.”  A kiss on his other cheek.  “Said all the right things.  Asked about my life and listened to my answers.”  The lightest of kisses on the tip of his nose, and it makes him smile despite himself. 

“Halfway through dessert, a woman comes up to our table.”  Bob feels the gentle press of your lips at the corner of his mouth, and he turns his head to kiss you back, but you pull away. 

“It was Justin’s wife.”  A flurry of kisses now, to his chin, along his jawline, near his ear. 

“He was cheating,” Bob says.

“Nope.”  A kiss, this one lingering, under his jaw, on his neck.  “Turns out, this was a little game he and his wife play.  Some weird cheating, cuckolding fantasy.”  Your lips skate over his pulse point.  “He takes a girl out, his wife pretends to catch them, and then they go to a nearby hotel to fuck each other senseless.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit is right.”  You lift your head to gaze at him.  “Asshole left me with the bill for dinner too.  So Bobby….you’re not my worst first date.  You’re not even close.”

“Honey—”

“You have no idea how hard you’re gonna have to work to really, honestly fuck this up.”  You grin at him, and then you straddle his lap again, and he lays his hands on your hips and stares up at you.

“Because you’re, like, exactly the sort of man I’ve always been looking for.  You’re that sneaky-handsome sort, and you’re smart and sweet, and you took care of me that first night when I was too drunk to make good choices.”  You cup his face in your hands, and you stare at him hard, that sweet forcefulness on full display, like you dare him to disagree with you.

“It’s already a sure thing, Bobby.”  You lean forward, kiss him gently.  “There’s no pressure to do anything tonight.  Don’t even think about needing to do anything.  How about you just let me love on you, and you just relax, and if you can keep your secret wife from busting in and turning this into a cuckolding fantasy, we’ll end the night just fine, okay?”

That makes him laugh, and it breaks the spell of his terrible ruminating.  Bob laughs, and he slides his hands from your hips up to your waist to feel your soft skin.

“I didn’t even think of getting a secret wife before I came here,” he confesses.

“See?  It’s a sure thing, then.”  You lean forward again, whisper in his ear, your warm breath making him break out in goosebumps as you tell him to just relax and let you love on him.

-----

The antidote to Bob’s awful overthinking, as it turns out, is your care and praise.

As far as first dates go, this is the one where Bob learns something new about his own sexuality.  He learns, thanks to you, that he has a praise kink, because your hands and mouth and body on his feels amazing, but it’s your words that make him hard.

Loving on him means you touch him everywhere.  You kiss him everywhere.  You stroke him, press your soft lips to him, lick against parts of him until he feels like he’s on fire in a way that is completely different than his panic attack.  You kiss every inch of his face and neck.  You trail your mouth over his shoulders and collarbones, across every bit of his chest and belly, and you praise him whenever your mouth isn’t otherwise occupied.

Look at you, Bobby.  Hiding this body away under that uniform.

You praise his arms, the muscles of his chest and abs.  You praise his shoulders and back, the smattering of chest hair, the trail of hair that leads down and disappears under the waistband of his boxers, and you glance up at him, the question in your eyes as you toy with the elastic.

“Can I?” you ask, and Bob nods, swallows hard, and you go lower, you push his boxers down and his cock is there, hard from your honied words.

“Holy shit,” you blurt out.  “Bob, are you for real with this?”

It probably seems like a cliché, like the pretty girl in a movie who somehow never realized she was pretty, but Bob has never really considered his size.  He’s been around plenty of other penises through the course of his career, but he’s never exactly eyed up other men and measured himself against them.  The handful of women he’s slept with never said anything so he assumed he was average, but you praise him here too—you tell him he has a beautiful cock, and Bob blushes at the compliment.  He’d never call it beautiful, but when you wrap your palm around his shaft and grip him gently, he’d agree to any adjective you might offer, so long as you never let him go.

This feels too easy too, but the panic never claws at Bob’s throat again.  You’ve chosen him, you’ve made it a sure thing for him, and you’ve cut through his awkward moment of near-flight to get him to this:  your body stretched alongside his, your breasts pressed against his arm, your hand working against his cock while you whisper praise in his ear. 

And every time doubt starts to creep in—he should be touching you too, he should be making you feel good too—you hush him, you still his mouth by kissing him, and you tell him that he has all the time in the world for touching you, but he should let you take care of him now.

His orgasm creeps up in fits and starts, and it seems to ratchet closer with each bit of praise you lavish on him, more so than each movement of your hand working against his cock.

“I want you to come for me, Bobby,” you whisper against his neck.  You kiss his pulse point, a plush, open-mouth kiss that makes him shiver as you grip him tighter, work a faster rhythm with your hand.  “Come for me like a good boy.”

He wants to be good for you; he wants to do as you say.  Some not-so-small part of him craves your approval, and maybe the two of you will play around with that sort of dynamic in the future, but for now, he just wants to obey you.  He wants to do his part to salvage the night he thinks he almost ruined, so he breathes in time to your strokes, focuses on every sensation—the softness of your breasts pressed against him, your wet, hot mouth kissing him, the light scent of your perfume.  The tension in his belly is a coil, and it tightens and tightens until it snaps, and his hips stutter against your grasping hand.  He gasps out your name, warns you, and then a beat later, he comes.  He spills over your hand, thick ropes of cum coating your fingers and wrist, spilling over onto his belly.

“Just like that, baby.”  You kiss his panting mouth, and he feels the curve of your lips as you give a pleased smile.  “It’s that simple.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Is setting him free a one shot?? cuz I need more bestie😭

Meant To Be || LN4

Follow up to: Setting Him Free || Meant To Be || Yours, Always Summary: If you love someone, set them free; if they come back to you, it was meant to be.

Lando tracked your life through the lens of your camera and what you uploaded to Instagram. He remembered seeing the toll the journey took, sporadic pictures taken between stopovers where you smiled but it never quite reached your eyes. It took you nearly 40 hours to reach your destination and he waited with bated breath for you to finally post that you had safely arrived. 

Lando remembered the first time he saw you tagged in a photo with a stranger, his arm curled around your waist while you laughed happily with no regard to his heart that you still owned completely. It had only been six weeks since you left, yet you were happy in another man’s arms while he still hugged your pillow.

Lando had fallen into a rabbit hole of despair that night until Max came home and turned into a detective and searched for the stranger, finding every social media profile he had.

With a triumphant shout, Max ran into Lando’s room with his laptop and pulled the blankets off his friend’s head. “He’s gay!”

Hope fluttered in his chest as he sat up and snatched the laptop. His eyes scanned the photos and the captions of a man most definitely in love with another man and not you. “He’s gay? Fucking yes, mate! Thank you,” he gushed as he clutched his chest where his heart had started beating erratically at the news.

“Now you can get out of bed and stop moping,” Max stated as he tore the rest of the blankets away and opened the curtains. Lando curled onto his side away from the blinding light with a groan but Max was there, grabbing his ankle and dragging him off the bed. “Come on, you lump of sod, we’re going karting. But, honestly, you need a shower, bro, you stink.”

For a few months Lando found a new contentment with life. He trained, he raced, he hung out with his friends. But every time there was a lull of activity he found himself gravitating back to you. 

“Max, give me her number,” Lando ordered as he busted into the guest room his friend had moved into when you moved out. He had wanted to keep an eye on Lando and Lando, though initially annoyed at being babied, had come to enjoy having the company. 

Max groaned as he saw the time on the clock and wondered why Lando was awake at 3am. “It’s for emergencies. You’re meant to be keeping a distance, mate.”

The weather alerts set up on Lando’s phone had woken him before he darted down the hall to Max’s room.

“This is an emergency,” he rushed, clambering over the bed, kneeing Max in the process, and grabbed his phone off the charger. “There’s a fucking tropical cyclone.”

Max stopped fighting for his phone with a defeated sigh and fell back onto his pillow. “Say hi from me.”

Lando gave an affirmative grunt as he left, the call already starting the dial tone before he reached his room and shut the door.

Your phone had been going off with your family sending worried messages as soon as they heard about the cyclone headed your way. You thought you had finally got them to relax when a call came through, but it was Lando’s contact that appeared.

“Hey, Lan,” you greeted softly after committing to answer the call. “Are you okay?”

“That’s what I was going to ask,” he replied with a gravelly voice, reminding you it was early in the morning where he was. And he was not a morning person at the best of times. “I saw the news.”

“You’re a mother hen, you know.”

He chuckled as it wasn’t the first time you called him that when he worried about you. “I know, only because I have someone to remind me.”

“You really don’t need to worry,” you assured him, though the afternoon skies were much darker than normal as the storm quickly approached. “The locals are used to this and if they’re not concerned then I think it’ll be fine. You know how the news is, they dramatise everything.”

“You’re sure? Do you have supplies just in case power goes out? I can order whatever you need-”

“Lando, stop,” you chided him gently. “You don’t have to buy anything.”

You could imagine him pacing in his room, dodging the mess of clothes on the floor and a half unpacked suitcase from his last trip. You were always the organised one, the one who kept the house tidy while he was busy with work.

“I want to. I want to know you have everything you need, that you are being taken care of. You did that for me for so long, I want to return the favour.”

You rubbed your temples as you tried not to fall back into the place you had been six months ago. But it was hard not to miss him with every fibre of your being when he was the sweetest man you had ever known. “Even if I wanted you to, it’s impossible. They don’t exactly have online shopping on the island.” You giggled at the sound of disbelief that came through the phone. “Our supplies come by boat from the mainland.”

“And that’s your idea of fun?”

“I like the work we do here,” you said with a smile. “Need I remind you that some people like to go vroom vroom around in circles.”

“Har-har.” You could practically hear his eyes rolling around in his head before you heard the shuffle of his sheets as he climbed into bed. “We’re halfway there.”

“You’re not meant to be counting the days,” you reminded him, as though you didn’t have the days marked off on the calendar in your office.

“I tried not to.”

The wind started to pick up, brushing the hibiscus plant against your window with an incessant scraping noise. Then came the pitter-patter of the first drops of rain on the tin roof.

“Me too.” On the other side of the island lightning forked from the gathering clouds and a few seconds later the boom rattled the house. “I should probably go, you should be asleep.”

“Wait,” Lando shouted in your ear. “Just wait, please.”

You knew the delay was only going to make goodbye harder and your throat was already clogging with emotion. “I need to save my battery, Lan.”

“I know, I know.” He sighed and the sound lassoed your heart, slowly choking it as the seconds dragged on. “I just, I want you to know that I love you and I know that in another six months that’s still not going to change. Or a year, or however long it takes for you to do what you need to do.”

“Lan…”

“You don’t have to say it, I know it’s hard.”

“Lan-”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Would you shut up for one second,” you laughed as he rambled on. “I love you too.”

“Please stay safe.”

“I will, but you know it’s cyclone season here. They will be coming every couple of weeks.”

“Then I’ll call you for every single one,” he promised. “Gotta make sure my girl is okay.”

You laughed at his tenacity but quietly revelled in his words. “Good night, Lando, I’m glad you called.”

“I wish I called sooner.”

Click here for the final part.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SPOILED !!! FERNANDO A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she could easily get away with things and when she couldn’t, he always made sure to put her back in her place

content warning: smut (minors dni!), pwp(ish?), what is context, explicit language, themes of jealousy and sugar daddy/baby relationship, degradation, dumbification, spitting, dacryphilia, impact play, brief mention of oral sex (m receiving), brat taming (dom!fernando), brief lance stroll x reader interaction, shitty smut, what’s beta reading we just rawdog our writing in here

note: i will be making a separate masterlist for this i think… lmk what you think and enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!

she can get away from a lot of things. she knew that. fernando knew that. 

in fact, fernando would even reward her for it. after all, she never demanded too much and all he wanted was to give her the world.

she wanted a new pair of shoes? he’d buy her the sneakers AND a pair of red bottoms. she wanted something from macy’s? fuck that; he’d have his assistant book the whole floor of harrods just so she can pick out new clothes for her closet. 

he would give her everything. even if she tends to be very playful and hilarious, he’d give her everything just to see it.

her cheekiness was a welcome distraction from his busy life as a professional racer. she’d often tease him in different ways but not once did she ever cross the lines and tested his patience and limits. she wasn’t really a brat, to say the least— she’d often give up by the time fernando would wrap his arms around her and press kisses all over her face.

and if she didn’t give up her act, he’d put her back to her place. it rarely happened, and when it did— they were rough. she would continue to act up just so he could punish her. she welcomed the pain with no hesitation and allowed him to control her like she was nothing but a body to be tossed around. 

she could get away from a lot. whenever she couldn’t, her excitement would soak through her knickers while thinking about his next move.

but right now, she wasn’t really at fault for being so bratty. her petulant attitude toward him wasn’t something that she expected from herself, but when her partner continued to ignore her throughout the party after arriving separately— the least she could do was throw his attitude right back at him. more petulantly, if you were to compare her actions to his.

she sat by the bar counter and quietly sipped on her drink, her ears ringing at the sound of his laughter from the distance alongside other men while they spoke about the happenings during the race earlier today.

she looked so pathetic like this; dressed up in the prettiest slip dress that turned to be a fabric of despair. she was the prettiest woman to have ever existed, and even the rest of the grid thought so, yet she looked so alone. she blamed fernando for this. 

all she wanted was him. she only wanted him right now. nothing more, nothing less. 

yet, in a world where he’d give her everything, he wouldn’t hand himself over to her. instead, he was laughing with lewis and carlos as they chatted about whatever the fuck it was. 

“you’d make a good renaissance painting,” her head shot up at the sound as she found lance stroll sitting next to her. the canadian beamed at her teasingly before sipping on his whiskey on the rocks. 

she scoffed, “if you want to see me naked, just say that.” 

lance laughed over the club music that continued to bust everyone’s eardrums. he then continued, “i would say that but do i really want to get my engines busted by a certain teammate before the next race?” 

her thoughts drifted back to fernando, who, from afar, had gone quiet (not that she knew that), before she rolled her eyes. “don’t be stupid,” she said, “i don’t think he’d care enough to ruin your car.” 

“you’re underestimating the man,” lance chuckled, “way too much, if anything. he could kill with just a look if anyone’s made a passing comment about you.” 

“i really should stop showing up at these stupid races,” she muttered quietly, “it’ll get worse as soon as people find out i hang out in the garages or paddock.”

“why?” lance asked, his frown an evident of concern as he said, “are you two not a…” 

“no, we’re not,” she interrupted with a huff, downing the rest of her drink as she continued, “it’s still the same arrangement. i could just stay at home and still get an allowance— i dunno why i said i’d come with him. look where i am now. he’s doing the same shit he does whenever he’s arriving at the paddock— i have to go after him so nobody knows who i am.” 

it was so obvious that she and fernando should be more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. he showed her something more than financial support and casual intimacy— yet he kept it on the down low as if she’s just a pastime. 

“damn,” lance muttered, offering her a sympathetic smile as he said, “is the money that good?”

“i don’t even care about the money anymore,” she laughed quietly, her eyes pausing from their track as she saw the obvious glare from her partner. he certainly wasn’t happy with what he was seeing.

yet she ignored his heavy scowl as she beamed, “i’m sure you’d be able to provide more if it was about it.” 

lance smirked lazily, now realizing what she was implying as he replied, “i’m sure i would’ve given it to you already if you weren’t as attached to fernando as you are now.” 

looking away from fernando, she covered her excitement and petulance with a giggle before she shoved lance lightly. “shut up.” 

sure, she could get away from a lot of things. but the way fernando stared at her coldly while she was acting all playful towards lance told her enough about the kind of treatment a spoiled brat like her would get from him. 

all she could do was squirm at the thought. 

her mouth let out a shrill cry as fernando pulled her mouth away from his cock, saliva dribbling down her chin to her chest as she felt a sharp pain on the roots of her head. he continued to grab a handful of her hair as he looked down at her. 

his eyes showed nothing of affection. his face offered nothing but mockery and anger. not towards her— but her bratty attitude that she showed tonight. 

he never felt so jealous until he saw lance talking to her up close. and he’s never been angrier than what he felt when she let his teammate get close like that. like she could just move on after talking to the man with a flirtatious smile and get away from her crimes that easily. 

her petulance and constant refusal on the way back to the hotel led to where she was now. her thighs rubbed against each other while tears trickled down her reddening cheeks.

she was desperate for his cock and his touch. both of which she didn’t even deserve despite being his spoiled girlfriend.

she tried to be prideful and strong as she refused to listen to his orders. 

it was too bad for her because while she thought that her pride was big, fernando alonso’s pride was bigger. his ego and his desire to control were what she enjoyed most about this— and these were his tools to tame her. 

“did you think that you can get away from that, hermosa?” he spewed out, watching her as she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “not listening to me and letting those men get near you— you’re not very smart, are you?”

“m- fer—“ she babbled, only to be interrupted by the clicking of his tongue as his other hand gripped her chin tightly. finally letting go of her hair, he tilted her chin up to his direction without a word. 

he growled quietly, “you’re such a disobedient girl. a very ungrateful and disobedient girl. you don’t deserve my cock after all of this, hermosa.”

“n- no! please-“ she exclaimed, squirming against the hold on her chin as she pleaded with him, “‘ll be good! i’ll be a good girl, i pr- promise. jus’ wan’ your cock- please nando!” 

his breath fanned on her face as he chuckled quietly, “you don’t listen to me unless you want it, hm?”

his hand let go of the grip for a moment, only for his palm to strike her cheek as he gripped her face once more. “open.” 

her brain, feeling hazy from the impact of his slapping and being deprived of his touch and his cock, short circuited. fernando tsked, tapping her reddening cheek once more as he crooned, “look at you, amor. you’re so dumb for my cock, eh? such a stupid bratty girl— wanting my cock when she doesn’t deserve it— open your mouth, hermosa.” 

she obliged, not wanting to disobey him anymore as he grinned. his grin eventually turned into a frown before spitting in her mouth as he demanded, “you know what to do.”

closing her mouth, she swallowed without a hesitation while her glistening eyes looked up at him.

“so you listen then,” he laughed mockingly, “i thought i’ve already fucked your mouth until you turned stupid.” 

she rubbed her thighs against each other, hoping for some sort of relief as a whine escaped her throat. “what’s wrong, hermosa?” tears escaped her eyes as she continued to plead with him wordlessly. “that’s not going to get you anywhere right now— not after you pulled that shit earlier just so you can piss me off.”

she couldn’t find a way to speak, humiliation and pleasure mixed with her adrenaline as she babbled, “i- i wan’- ‘m…” 

“speak up,” he laughed once more. “you’re way too mouthy earlier— what is stopping you now?” 

she whimpered, feeling too frustrated and already feeling too fucked out. she really wasn’t going to get away with all of those things that she did just to catch his attention earlier.

she just wanted him, but she couldn’t seem to get it all out because of the immense pleasure that she received from being disciplined. 

he chuckled quietly, “you want my cock?” 

she nodded frantically, a series of murmurs escaped her mouth as she meekly cried out, “want you to fuck me, please, please, please nando~ ‘m a good girl.”

“no, you’re really not, hermosa,” he grinned wickedly, “if you were you would’ve known not to flirt with those people. but i guess it was my fault that i’ve left you hanging and horny before we went, no? otherwise you wouldn’t have been that stupid to tease them like you would with me.”

she squirmed again, whimpering at his words as fernando continued, “but i’ve given you so much that you always find a way to get some more. i think that my little slut should be thankful for what she’s getting instead of acting like a spoiled brat.”

she couldn’t even find herself to protest. she was so drunk in lust and his dominance that she couldn’t find herself to fight back against his words. 

her love for him would have to wait. she was in too deep right now and if it meant that she’ll get an orgasm and maybe more then she’d do whatever it takes to please him. 

after all, she was spoiled already. working hard didn’t sound too bad. 

[rozex21]

Bill when Adam (or a holder of despair):

[hmusunoo]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 - 𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

desc. │ “ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪ'ᴍ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ, ᴛʜᴀɴ ʟᴏᴠɪɴ' ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ” — ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ “ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀɴ”.

warnings. │ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ʙᴏʏ!ɴɪ-ᴋɪ x ᴜɴᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ!ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ɴɪ-ᴋɪ ɪꜱ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ʜᴏʀʀɪʙʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɢᴀꜱʟɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ.

Your phone was ringing. The name that appeared on screen was one of whom you knew very well. Someone who had at one point made you feel like the most important person in the world.

but now all you felt was an ache deep in your chest. you had felt despair and disgust and just hurt. Riki hurt you, time and time again. You let him slither his way back into your life like a deadly serpent and every single time he would strike you.

he was venomous to you, he took advantage of your kind heart and clear desperation to be loved.

He was sweet at first, that’s usually how every boy was. The relationship felt a lot like puppy love. He’d pick you up for dates with flowers in hand, ready to open the door to his car and restaurant doors for you. He would text you sweet message throughout the day reminding you of how beautiful you looked with your hair down or how sweet you smelled with your strawberry scented perfume.

It was perfect, but as we all know perfect never lasts. Riki was popular and you? not so much. He would party every weekend with his friends, throwing parties in the basement of their older buddies houses. They would drink cheap liquor and any beer they could get their hands on with fake id’s. it was a crowd you weren’t used to. yet you let Riki drag you along.

The first time you went to a party with Riki it had went okay for the most part. He drank a little more than you were used to but he was affectionate still, sweet even.

You drove him home, spent the night in his room and snuck out before dawn and before his parents would notice. it was kind of perfect. cuddle up with him in his childhood bed in his childhood home giggling about the various posters and teenage boy messiness to his room, you could have sworn you’ve never been more in love then you were in that very moment.

but he had to go and ruin it, just like he always did.

The first time Riki broke your heart was eight months into your relationship. He was having a hard week. Midterms were coming up, his baseball coach was busting his ass about coming to practice late almost every single day and above it all his parents decided to ground him after they found his stash of fake id’s in his dresser.

He wanted a stress reliever. Riki just wanted to forget about the week and have fun with his friends and his girlfriend. He snuck out of his house picking you up and taking you to the party where your perception of love would forever change.

The night was in full swing by 11pm but you just weren’t feeling it. Truthfully you never really are at these things, parties just weren’t your thing. You’d rather be at home cuddle up with riki watching reruns of friends all night. You only endured a few hours of drunken teenagers for Riki. He seemed to enjoy it and you loved seeing him happy.

You sat on a tiny sofa next to Riki, his friends surrounded the two of you passing around a bottle of cheap vodka. You didn’t drink Riki was already drunk so you knew you would end up driving anyway. For some reason Riki felt persistent tonight handing you the bottle everytime he got the chance.

You tried to blame it on his drunkenness. He just didn’t remember that you weren’t a drinker accidentally handing you the bottle because you were right next to him and not because he wanted you to drink it.

“Riki i’m not going to drink it” You had said laughing awkwardly as he handed you the bottle yet again. You passed the bottle over to Sunghoon who took it happily taking a big swing and passing it over again.

“Come on babe” Riki whined nudging your shoulder gently “Lighten up” His words were slurred along with his eyes glassy from all the drinks.

“Maybe that’s enough for you too” You said softly, trying to make your voice low enough for only him to hear.

Riki let out a loud scoff at your suggestion “What are you my fucking mom?” He snapped rolling his eyes, gaining the attention of the group around the two of you. You looked around, a small blush coating your cheeks at the embarrassment.

“Well no but you’re already drunk maybe you should st-“ Your sentence was cut off but a condescending laugh. “I’m not a child y/n don’t fucking act like i am”

“You don’t have to curse at me” Meekly you looked around at the group of drunk teens as they averted their eyes anywhere but the awkward situation happening in front of them.

“You’re such a goody-goody y/n no wonder no one here likes you” Riki was laughing at you. His words piercing you like a knife. “My friends tolerate you because you’re my girlfriend but honestly they don’t like you very much” He tilted his head at you mockingly driving the knife further into your already bleeding heart.

You looked around meeting the eyes of his friends who just shrugged at you not in the least bit worried that their friend had just outed them to you.

You got up in a rush. The air in the small basement feeling congested. As you left you heard laughs coming from the room you had just occupied. You were humiliated. Riki had said such horrible things and hadn’t even bat a single eye as you ran out of the room.

Tears ran down your face as you got into your car mentally praising yourself for driving your vehicle instead of Riki’s. As you pulled out of the driveway you felt even more dread at the fact that Riki hadn’t even tried to chase after you. He didn’t even care that he had humiliated you in front of all his friends. His mind was set on his next drink, the thought tore you in two.

The next day you had woken up to multiple texts and calls from Riki pleading for you to pick up and hear him out. That it was all a mistake, that he had just had a horrible week and drank too much. His friend didn’t actually dislike you, they loved you.

Deep down you knew he was lying but still you answered his calls and let him slither is way in convincing you that really was just having a hard week and got too drunk. You had convinced yourself that this would be the one and only time he would hurt you like that.

you were wrong. That was proven only two months later. Ten months into your relationship was the second time Riki had broken your heart. The last two months haven’t gone as smoothly as the beginning of your relationship. The honeymoon passing by in a broken blur of emotion.

The arguing between the two of you was more often than not. You had felt like you were giving 100% percent into your relationship as Riki just wasn’t. He was late for dates, answered less texts messages, ditched movie night to get drunk with his friends.

It was a cycle you couldn’t seem to shake. every time you would argue sending you driving home with blurry eyes and puffy cheeks and every time Riki would call soon after apologizing. Whispering sweet nothings into the phone reeling you back in like fish hooked on bait.

It was exhausting, and when you finally felt like things could maybe get better Riki had to go and prove you wrong.

He had planned a dinner, him. Not you. He told you to get dressed up, do you hair and makeup. He wanted to take you out. The first red flag should have been when he told he’d meet you there instead of picking up you like he usually did.

The second red flag was when he sent you a text ten minutes after the meeting time claiming he’d be there in five minutes. You sat in a small booth in the corner of a dark restaurant pushing around a sad side salad waiting for someone who was obviously not going to show.

You had sat there for forty-five minutes waiting, typing out unanswered text messages before you decided to finally leave. You paid your small bill and left a hallow version of yourself.

Getting home that night you scrolled through your instagram and was greeted with a picture that landed a straight punch to your gut.

It was picture of Riki he was sat next to Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jay all three with lopsided grins on their faces and drinks in their hands. The caption read “Pre- gaming for the party tonight!! see you there (;”

You heart was in your stomach at the realization that Riki had ditched you for a party. You dialed his number in a hurry sneaking a look at the time as it read 12:56am the party probably in full swing as this point. You were expecting Riki to answer but after a few rings he did.

He wasn’t drunk yet, you could tell by his voice. He was definitely tipsy though and before you could even get a word out he rushed out a “Please don���t bitch at me tonight y/n”

The hurt you had felt only seconds prior had vanished in an instant, a hot simmering anger in its place. “Are you kidding me Riki? You ditched me to go to a party?!” You voice was tight and sharp.

“Something important came up, Jay just broken up with were helping him get over her” He spoke nonchalantly causing your anger to triple.

“You’re playing with me” You said blankly “this is a joke”

“It’s not a joke y/n i needed to be there for my friend” He was agitated with you, you could tell by the way his voice rose just slightly.

“and what about your girlfriend Riki? she needed you too”

“Don’t be dramatic y/n you’re fine” The boy rolled his eyes growing tired of the conversation.

“You ditched me” You said once again at a loss for words at the audacity.

“You said that already” Riki said matter of factly. Each word that he spat out at you was another stab at your already punctured heart.

“honestly y/n i don’t have time for this. you’re being needy and i don’t want deal with it”

“if you hang up we’re done.” You said firmly, trying hard to stand your ground and pray he can’t detect the crumbling of your demeanor. You couldn’t be weak.

“Whatever. i don’t need this” The line went dead. The weight of what just happened crashing into you like a hurricane and you were in its path of destruction. He had hung up ultimately accepting your break up without a single thought.

It stung more than ever before. More than all the petty useless arguments. He didn’t care at all.

The snake hadn’t come for forgiveness as quick as it did last time. No, Riki took a few days before he came crawling back. He came back in the form of a knock on your door and a bouquet of beautiful red roses.

He had begged you, again, to forgive him. Asking for you to come on a ride in his car so he could talk to you. and like the dumb naive girl you were you did. You went with him and he convinced you to take him back with just a few kisses and promises you knew we’re going to be left empty.

The last time Riki broke you heart was one year and three months into your relationship.

Your birthday was a year you’ve always deemed memorable. Having had the privilege of a good home life and loving parents had its perks. You were excited this year more than any to celebrate it with your boyfriend. Riki had teased all week at the possibility of an amazing present.

Your hopes were high eager to spend the day with the boy you loved so deeply. At the start of the day it was great, amazing even. Riki had taken you to lunch at a cute little cafe were he spoiled you with various baked treats. He had taken you to the bookstore to walk around and browse. He did the boyfriend thing carrying all the books you wanted them paid for them.

You spent the day perfectly content with him, all the hardships of the past few months had dissipated. When night had fallen he told you that he was throwing a small get together for you at Sunghoon’s house. You thought it innocent enough. Little did you know this was the ultimate downfall of your relationship.

The party was going fine, you had been greeted by most of riki’s friends happy birthday wishes past around you in heaps. You were having a good time talking to people and even having one cup of beer, albeit you only slowly sipped at it not really liking the taste.

You were perched on the couch in the living room chatting with a girl that you hadn’t remembered the name of when you realized Riki had been gone for quite some time. Curious to where he was you ventured towards the kitchen in search of him.

Your name stopped you in your tracks before you could fully enter the kitchen.

“Cool party dude.” Heeseung’s voice rung over the array of people occupying the kitchen filling their empty cups with more beer. “I’m surprised miss goody-goody is actually enjoying it she’s always too good for these things it’s seems” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion and disgust. bracing yourself to hear how Riki would defend you against the nasty comment his friend had made. but instead he laughed, a short chuckle that had reverberated through your bones and straight your heart.

“I know. I finally got her to loosen up a bit. it’s a shame i’m going to dump her soon maybe she’s finally beginning to be fun” Your body froze in its place, hugging the wall to keep you balance. Riki…was going to break up with you? And he admitted him to his friends right here at your birthday party. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Hey maybe i can get a turn with her” Jake joked with what sounded like a pat on the back to Riki.

“Nah man, you don’t want my sloppy seconds” The boys laughed. unaware that the butt of their amusement was just feet away from them listening.

Before you could stop yourself you had stepped into the crowded kitchen catching the eye of the occupants. A panicked looked crossed over Sunghoon’s face looking over at Riki with wide eyes. “Riki” He said motioning to me.

Riki looked up his eyes catching my glassy ones, his face turning as white as sheet.

“Don’t bother waiting any longer to dump me” You said. Mentally cursing yourself when it came out shakey. “We’re done. for good”

You turned, rushing quickly out of the kitchen and threw the sea of drunk people. Riki was hot on your tail calling your name like a mantra, but you ignored it continuing to barrel through the people and finally out of the door into the cold air of the outside.

“Y/n! wait please!” A hand wrapped around your wrist. You yanked it free turning around in a midst of anger. “Don’t touch me!” Riki’s eyes were wide, a sheen glassed over them.

“Please let me ex-“

You started walking away before he could get the words out but he again followed suit. “I didn’t mean it. i was just trying to impress my friends”

You scoffed “I never want to see you again” You cried tears running down your face. You turned to look at him. “I hope you’re happy” You whispered. “You ruined my birthday but obliterating my heart. congratulations.”

Riki shook his head reaching his hand out to you in attempt at touching you. You stepped back not allowing him too close. “I love you.” He said “I didn’t mean it”

“Just stop” You said before turning around once more and leaving. This time Riki didn’t follow, and for once you were relieved that he didn’t.

and today, your phone was ringing. The name on screen was that of someone you thought you knew. but really you didn’t. Not at all.

You declined the call.

——

@en-log (:

[mellowwillowy]

"Oh..." Your boyfriend secretly checked your scorecard before you did and was greeted with a line of miserable A until his eyes landed on a B. This would surely take a taxing toll on your mind.

"Hmm..."

He started to hum, what should he do? Hack through the website and change the inputted number for you? What if the scoring system was filed through physical form too?

I really hope you would just shrug it off and say your classic 'It had happened, what more could I do?' instead of stressing yourself with it.

Blue pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squinted shut as he tried to find a solution for this. Your scholarship is at stake, edged to the despairing ending. But there might be chances that your scholarship was only a one-semester thing and this could ease the burden on your mind.

Hacking through the website system is not a problem but ensuring that your score is true to the one inputted online is the real problem here. Bribery would work but should he risk it all? Should he really taint something so pristine, something so you?

Jaw clenched tightly, the urge to throw the mouse across the room is increasing. Why must the professor go through such trouble to give you a ridiculous grade? The unreasonable one here is her and not you.

"God... dammit-!" With a flick of his wrist, the mouse shattered into pieces as it hit the ground. "This fucking pebble-like old hag, why must you trouble me with this bullshit." He cursed under his breath as though he was the one unbenefited from this instance, face darkened while his blue eyes glinted in fury.

Upon a moment of silence, Blue decided to save you from this headache. He started to work on his PC again, this time to hack through the website and change your supposed score into an A.

"Whatever, not a thing that I can't manage. I suppose a visit with a wrapped gun would work or whatever, maybe a wrapped nail-packed lunch... or just poisonous flower..." His mumblings were mostly drowned with the clackings of the keyboard, "or maybe just a branded bag... or something better."

Something of his forte.

"Maybe some fresh blackmail material... or perhaps, debt."

---

"Woahhh~! Look, Blue! Look! I aced it all! A whole A!"

Blue laughed at your excitement as he easily lifted you up and twirled you around, "Guess this call for a celebration? What about a trip to your favorite diner and bust all their menu?"

You urged him to drop you down before you hop excitedly, "Yes! Let's get them now!"

Chuckling to himself, he thought to himself, Today is our good day so I shouldn't bother myself with that old hag just yet. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. Any day but today.

"Let's fill this tummy with its expected reward, come." He held you by your hand toward the front door.

[quintinh43]

Simple Truths Pt. 1 | Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinns got some feelings, and so does y/n.

Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, depictions of anxiety, food, sickeningly fluffy domesticity. Use of the name Olivia.

Wc: 7.2k

Notes at the end!!

---

Quinn was the only other person who had a key to your apartment—given to him to use in case of emergency only. So when the front door burst open at 10 pm on a Tuesday, and Quinn barged in, suit askew and hair a mess, looking very frazzled, you dropped your bowl of ice cream and paused your movie as you approached him hurriedly.

"Y/n," he breaths, doubling over and panting with his hands resting on his knees while he tried to catch his breath. Your hands hovered around his face, unsure of what was wrong. Decidedly, you sit him down on the couch and hand him a bottle of water. Kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees.

He chugs the water like a man left out in the desert sun. "Quinn, what's wrong? Are you alright?" You question carefully as he caps the water bottle. "Did you run here?"

He nods, leaning forward, head in his hands, sighing. He looks down at you, cheeks flushed. Your apartment buildings aren't far from each other, but for him to run for three straight kilometres and practically break down your apartment door, something must be terribly wrong.

A knot of despair coils in your stomach. "Is it your family? The team? Gotta tell me what's wrong so I can help you Quinny."

"I just wanted to come over," he mumbles.

It takes a moment for his words to process, and then you are throwing his half-full water bottle at his head. He ducks, professional athlete reflexes apparent. You stand up, pushing his chest so he flops backward on your couch.

"Are you joking right now?" You say incredulously, arms crossed over your chest like a displeased coach, "You did not bust down my apartment door at 10 pm on a school night, acting like someone died cause you just wanted to come over."

"Ok I wasn't that dramatic," Quinn says, loosening his tie and dropping it on your floor.

You glare at him, as you reclaim your spot on the couch, pulling the blanket over your bare legs. "You ran here."

"Well, i-" Quinn's mouth opens and closes as he tries to formulate a response.

"Close your mouth, Quinn, you'll catch flies" you snap, grabbing your bowl of ice cream from the coffee table.

"Ok, maybe I was being dramatic," he says with a sheepish smile.

"What happened to cell phones? Are we in the Stone Age? No text? No call? Just break down my apartment door?" You ask raising an eyebrow at him.

Quinn's cheeks flush, as he suddenly realizes how absurd the situation he painted was. "I was just bored" he shrugs sheepishly.

You look at him like he has grown two extra heads. "Quinn, I cannot believe you interrupted my night, acting like it was an emergency, because you were bored"

He gives you another sheepish smile. "Get comfy or get out" you instruct poking him in the ribs with your foot.

"My clothes still in the same place?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your ankle. You nod, un-pausing the movie as he drops your foot and, grabs his tie off the floor on his way to your bedroom.

You hear him shuffling around your bedroom, presumably hanging up his suit and grabbing a change of clothes before he turns on the shower. Within ten minutes, he's joined you on the couch, freshly showered and in a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt with his own little bowl of ice cream.

He sits across from you, and you toss the blanket over his lap and tuck your feet under his thighs. You pause the movie again and stare him down with a look that demands an explanation. Because no way, he broke into your apartment and practically gave you a heart attack cause he was bored.

Quinn sighs, promptly forgetting that his hair is wet as he runs a hand through it. He makes a face at the uncomfortable feeling and wipes it dry against his shirt. You can't help but laugh at him.

"I don't know" he sighs "I just started to feel super overwhelmed, and everything felt like it was closing in on me, and I just needed to get out."

"How are you feeling now?" you ask stealing his ice cream since he's not eating it.

"Like I overreacted, because now I feel perfectly fine. I'm sorry if I disturbed you." His voice goes quiet at the end, and your heart pangs for him.

"No sweat Quinny, I'm glad you're feeling better." you hum, licking ice cream off the spoon. Quinn watches you intently, not for the reason you think as you hold out a spoon of ice cream for him. He leans in, closing his lips around the spoon, keeping eye contact with you the entire time.

Your stomach somersaults and you quickly look away, pulling the spoon back. After nearly six years of friendship, two of which were spent yearning for Quinn to love you as more than a friend and the other four spent accepting that he would never see you as anything more, he still sometimes stole your breath and made your heart flip when he looked at you a certain way.

You had met the first time he came to Vancouver, scoping for apartments. You were nineteen, working part-time at a coffee shop not far from Rogers arena when a frazzled-looking Quinn and his parents walked in. They had ordered coffee and pastries, and while you were serving them, you couldn't help but hear Quinn's anxieties about how he would "never find a place to stay in time for the beginning of the season" and how he would end up sleeping out of a hotel.

Ellen had sighed, trying to reassure him for the millionth time that everything would be ok, while Jim had been in contact with the real estate agent.

As nineteen-year-old you placed a spinach quiche in front of Quinn, and you spoke up. Making a decision that would change your life for the better. Your roommate had recently moved out of the apartment, and you hadn't yet found a replacement.

Ellen's eyes lit up, and you wrote down your number for her. A month later, Quinn Hughes was your new roommate. The two of you quickly became good friends, and even though you only shared an apartment for a few months, your friendship only grew stronger with time.

The rest is history.

"I think... I'm missing Jack and Luke a lot these days." Quinn says with a sigh as he takes the bowl of ice cream from you. You cross your arms with a fake pout, and Quinn rolls his eyes, feeding you a spoon.

You don't say anything yet. He's not done talking, and you don't wanna scare him away by interrupting too soon, or saying the wrong thing before he's done talking.

"And I think, with this being the worst we've done all season, everything just feels like a jumbled foggy mess."

Quinn sighs for the millionth time. He places the empty bowl on the coffee table and wishes he could sink deeper into the couch. You yelp as he yanks your legs apart and crawls between them, laying his head on your chest. It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to cuddle, but the manner in which he just did so has you turning red, you're glad he can't see your face right now.

One of your arms comes around his back, your fingers making patterns, while the other delves into his hair. "You can't make fun of me" he whispers.

"Never Quinny," you say resting your chin atop his head.

"I feel like I'm failing" he sighs, "I feel like I'm failing the team, and my brothers and my parents and you. And I just- it's hard. Its all so hard"

Your heart hurts for Quinn at his confession.

"Quinn you could never fail me. Or your parents or your brothers, or your team," you say softly, fingers scratching his scalp lightly. He hums, eyes fluttering closed. You can feel his eyelashes tickle your collarbones.

"I love you, your parents' love, and your brothers love you, and no matter what, we are here for you. Just because you are having a bad stint doesn't mean you are failing as a captain. You are a team. You win together, and you lose together, and it's not all on you."

Quinn sighs again, pulling away from you. He sits on his knees facing you, tongue darting against his lips in nervous habit. "But what if-"

"Hush, Quinny" you pull him back on top of you, wrapping him in the safe cocoon of your arms "There's no But what ifs. You are an amazing captain and brother and son and leader. Everyone in your life is so lucky to have you. You are doing so so brilliantly."

You lay in comfortable silence, stroking his hair softly. Holding him close and listened to his breathing. What you would give to keep him in the safety of your arms forever. To grind all his insecurities into dust, and show him what a brilliant human he is.

"Move in with me" he speaks so quietly, that you don't know if you heard him right. "It'll be just like old times."

"I'll think about it" you say softly. He breathes out a relieved sigh and plays the movie. The dull ache in your chest turns sharp. After four fucking years of getting over him, he comes to you with vulnerability stark in his baby blues, and that's all it takes to undo the last four years of work. Damn him. Damn it all.

The two of you fall asleep tangled on the couch, with the movie playing in the background. You wake with a crick in your neck and Quinn half underneath you, an arm around your waist holding you close to him. It isn't unusual, but after last night it fills you with such a feeling of uncertainty that it's borderline uncomfortable.

Your phone reads 5:00 am, and you huff, prying his arm off of you. He groans, arm tightening around your waist, so you can't escape his hold.

"Let me up Quinn," you say, tapping his cheek.

"Don' wanna," he grumbles, "so warm."

"I'll bite you," you warn.

"No, you won't," Quinn says against your hair, sounding slightly more awake. You smirk, turning your head and biting his Bicep.

"Ow! Y/n/n, what the hell!" He groans, shooting up into sitting position. His arm is still around you, and you bump your head against his with a laugh, "I warned you."

You get up from on top of him, grabbing the ice cream bowls from the coffee table and discarding them in the sink. "Get your ass up Quintin. We're going on a run."

"I don't have clothes" he tries as an excuse, flopping back down on the couch. You snort at the lamest excuse he has ever made. He has nearly everything at your apartment. It was basically as if he lived with you already.

Hell, there was even an extra pair of his skates in your coat closet. Honestly moving in wouldn't even be that hard. He'd probably just have to bring his hockey bag over. Except, he had the nicer apartment. So logically it would make more sense for you to move into his place.

"Nice try Quinn, get up and get changed or I'm coming back with a bucket of ice water," you say, going to your bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for your run. It takes you less than fifteen minutes to be fully dressed, and by the time you're done, Quinn is up and ready, tossing you a protein bar.

"I forgot my phone at home," he says sheepishly, taking a bite out of his own protein bar.

"You'll live," you say patting his chest as you pass him to put on your runners.

"I can't believe you want me to run without music, you heathen" he gasps offendedly, grabbing his pair of runners that he keeps at your house.

"We can share," you say, tossing him an air pod, a gift he had given you a while back. He catches it and tucks it into his ear without complaint. That is until you turn on the music.

"I'll never understand the music you run to" he grumbles, and you take the elevator down to the main floor.

"It's about the beat of the music" you sigh, probably for the millionth time. For all his complaining, he doesn't actually mind it. The elevator stops and the main floor, and you and Quinn both wave to the doorman as you head out.

As soon as you exit the building, you take off. Quinn is unprepared. "Hey! What- wait up!" He calls, taking off after you. You cackle as you run farther away from him. Albeit you only sprint away from him for less than a block, and then you are stopped by a red light. He is by your side before the light turns green and you grin at him, keeping your feet moving.

"Ready Freddy?" You grin, as the seconds count down before the light turn green.

"Yes, I am Sam," he responds with a dopey smile so blinding you feel your heart go faint.

The light turns green, and the two of you take off together this time. Although you technically have to run just a little faster, because Quinn's legs are longer. After two more stop lights, you cut into the park, and this is where the real view began. You run along the coastline, the fogginess of the morning clinging to the surface of the ocean. The mountains loom in the background, and you sigh. Vancouver's scenery couldn't be beat.

After 45 minutes and roughly seven-ish kilometres, you've both worked up a good sweat as you enter your apartment building. "What do you have today?" You ask Quinn, in between deep breaths as you being your heart rate back down.

"Practice at 8:00 and that's it for the day," he says, handing you back your air pod.

"I'll drive you back to yours, on my way to work?"

"Yeah that's good" he hums as you unlock your door.

"I'm gonna shower, and get dressed, do what you will," you say, toeing off your shoes and kicking them haphazardly into the closet. Quinn rolls his eyes as he straightens them out and puts his beside them.

You strip your sweaty clothes off and make sure your hair is out if the way, before hopping into the steamy shower. You're in there long enough to make sure you are clean, and then you're getting dressed. Brushing your hair into a neat bun, you pick out an easy outfit, that you know won't make you hate your life as the day drags on, and with that, you're back in the kitchen.

Quinn hums to himself as he flips eggs for breakfast. There's a glass waiting for you on the counter, with a pink straw sticking out of it. Quinn's own glass is sitting on the counter beside him half finished. He spots you coming out of your room and smiles, sliding the glass towards you. "Smoothie," he says.

"Oh, also, I didn't know what you wanted for lunch. You have some salmon and potatoes in the fridge, and some Thai chicken or I can make you something quick if you want?" He offers, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.

There's a smiley face in your toast. The domesticity of it all makes your chest ache. He's in your kitchen, making you breakfast, and packing you lunch. "Oh!" His eyes light up as he slides onto the barstool beside you, "And I made your coffee" he points to your trusty travel mug that you never go to work without, that's filled to the brim with coffee.

"Thanks, Quinn" you mumble around your mouthful of eggs. The overwhelming feeling of if only this was real takes root in your chest, and you take a deep breath fighting off the urge to cry. It could be real, but not in the way you want it.

You eat your breakfast silently, completely forgetting that Quinn had asked you a question until he nudges your knee. "You're thinking loud," he says softly, "wanna get it off your mind?"

"Oh, it’s nothing" you smile, albeit unconvincingly, but Quinn doesn't push.

"So...Lunch?" He asks, taking both your empty plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Oh, actually I was thinking why don't you spin by for lunch? The kids haven't seen you in a while, and if practice is at 8 then you'll get off at the perfect time to come have lunch with me and spend the rest of your day pestering me at work?" You say, all trace of your anxious stupor gone.

Quinn lights up at the idea. "Yeah, of course, that sounds like fun."

Visiting you at work is one of his favourite things, especially when he gets to have lunch with you and hang around afterwards. And as an elementary school teacher, whenever Superstar Canuck Captain Quinn Hughes is in your classroom, it becomes the most popular room in the building. With students and staff.

"That still doesn't answer what you want for lunch," he says poking you with his foot.

"Surprise me" you shrug. You finish off your smoothie with a slurp and put it in the dishwasher before gathering your things.

Quinn is still doddling around your kitchen, "Alright, let's go, I don't wanna make you late for practice" you say slipping on your shoes.

"I'm coming, I'm coming" he slips on his shoes, and tucks a bag of snacks into your school bag, grinning at you knowingly. You roll your eyes at him, locking your apartment door behind you. The drive to his place is less than five minutes, and Quinn spends the whole drive criticizing your music.

By the time you stop in front of his building, you're ready to smite him. "Get out of my car Hughes or I'll throw you out." He sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes, unlocking it for him to get out. Sometimes you think the only reason your friendship has lasted so long is because you are good at dealing with children, and sometimes Quinn acts just like a child.

"See you later Y/n/n" he grins.

"Text me when you get in!" You say, before he shuts the door.

He salutes you with two fingers and jogs into his building. You wait until you receive a text from him before pulling out of the parking spot and heading to school.

The hours leading to lunch are excruciatingly long. The temptation to spill the surprise that Quinn is coming to visit today is nearly worth the excitement the kids will have. But you know the looks on their faces will be so much more worth it when he shows up unannounced.

As you mark assignments, and the kids silently read, your phone buzzes with a text from him. It's as if he can sense when you're thinking about him.

Q: I'm out front when you're ready.

You glance at the clock: two minutes until the bell rings, and then you're free.

You: Be out in 5

You stand up, addressing your class "Everyone can put their books away, and go get your jackets and outdoor shoes on, and as soon as the bell rings, you may go."

The scramble to the cubbies is immediate, as kids kick off their shoes and yank on their jackets. They line up at the door, bouncing on their toes. You pull on your own light jacket and wait at the front of your class with them, chatting to the talkative ones. The bell rings and they run from the classroom like it's on fire.

Rolling your eyes at their enthusiasm, you grab the sign that says "Ms. Y/l/n has left the building" so that your kids know to ask Mr. Farmer if they need anything from the classroom and lock the doors. You let the office know that you'll be gone for the duration of lunch and with that, you escape the building.

Quinn is waiting out front in his car. The one he drives when he wants to look less suspicious. You snort to yourself, as you open the door and slide into the passenger seat.

"What's funny?" Quinn asks immediately, raising an eyebrow at you as you do your seat belt.

"I was just thinking that it's funny you have two cars, one that you bought to drive specifically when you don't wanna be easily recognizable"

"Oh I'm sorry," Quinn teases, pulling out of his parking spot carefully "Have I offended the lady by not picking you up in my Porsche?"

Something about watching him drive makes your stomach flutter. The slope of his neck as he looks over his shoulder, the prominence of the veins in his hands as he grips the steering wheel. Your throat goes dry, and you look away quickly as the thoughts spiral darker, into thoughts you should not be having, about your best friend and his car. Especially not while sitting beside him, in said car.

"Earth to Y/n?" Quinn says, poking you in the cheek, you turn your head, instinctively biting his finger. He hisses and yanks it away. "You've been spacey since this morning, what's up?"

"Nothing," you sigh, "just thinking."

"Well don't think too hard, I wouldn't wanna strain your limited brain cells" he teases, flicking you on the forehead. You glare at him, crossing your arms like a child. His demeanour from last night has done a complete 180°. You know he feels bad for telling you all his feelings, but you also know that he'll bring it up again when he's ready.

There's silence between you two, accompanied by the base of a pop song that plays low through his speakers. It's uncomfortable. And that's scary because silence with Quinn isn't supposed to be uncomfortable. He's supposed to be the one constant in your life. Solid, sturdy and unchanging in the face of the unknown. And somehow, in the course of one night and weighty conversation, he has become the unknown. Why did he have to come into your life and unearth all these feelings?

His hand is reaching for yours, and he laces your fingers together, stopping the nervous twitch of your fingers, and your heart stutters even more.

"If it's about moving in with me, don't overthink it," he says with all the simplicity in the world "I'll understand if you don't wanna do it. I mean, we aren't nineteen anymore, you are your own person."

And before you really know you are saying,"I'll do it!" Comes spilling from your lips. Quinn looks at you, eyes hopefully like you've never seen before, and he squeezes your hand.

"You will?"

You nod, and he squeezes your hand again, the grin on his face so bright it could light up the darkest of nights. And at that moment, the only thing you know is that Quinn was derived from whatever Divine power there was because no smile should be able to chase away all premonitions of darkness like his does.

Lunch is burgers and fries, at some high-end restaurant that Quinn likes. You talk about everything, and nothing all at once, and once more comfort settles in your bones like an old friend.

"Did you tell the kids I'm coming?" Quinn asks, stealing a fry off your plate. You smack his hand with a glare and he simply steals another one.

"No, I was thinking you could pop out from behind my desk or something."

Quinn rolls his eyes with a smile. "Sure, that'll be fun" he'd be lying if he said the way you talked about the kids didn't stir something funny in his chest. "Is Olivia there today?" He asks casually.

Something not akin to jealousy sparks under your skin. Olivia Daunt. A teacher down the hall who enjoyed making underhanded comments about you to anyone who would listen. And Somehow she was always needing to borrow stuff from your room, whenever Quinn was around.

"Unfortunately" you grumble, pushing away your clean plate. Quinn finishes a second after you, and he's signalling the Waiter for the cheque. You slap your card on the table, and Quinn shoots you a look so disbelieving someone would think you just plucked a live fish out of the tank and ate it like candy.

He snatches your card off the table and shoves it in his pocket.

"Quinn," it sounds like you're scolding a child.

"Y/n," he parrots.

"Seriously, let me get it this time."

He snorts like you've made a particularly funny joke. "Not a chance, sweetheart"

"Quinn, please."

"Y/n, I was the one who took you out legally that means I have to pay."

"Legally?" You scoff as he puts his card on the table.

"Mhm," you steal his move, snatching his card off the table and sticking it in your pocket.

"Y/n" he warns, hand inching towards you across the table.

"I was the one who asked you to get lunch with me, so I think that means, legally, I have to pay. Now put my card on the table Quinn"

"Don't play with me, Y/n" he says, voice low, eyes demanding. A shiver runs down your spine, and the yearning that floods you is overwhelming. Oh, how you wish he was looking at you like that in a different scenario. Without a table separating you. Maybe with less clothing, too.

Your cheeks turn red as you realize that for the second time today, your thoughts towards Quinn have taken an unholy route. Unintelligible grumbles fall from your lips as you put his card on the table, hoping he stops looking at you like that right now.

The smile that lights his face is worth losing the battle. He doesn't give you back your card until he's paid, and the two of you are walking out of the restaurant side by side. You make it back to the school just before lunch is over, with just enough time to hide Quinn under your desk to surprise the kids.

As the kids settle in before the last bell rings, your eyes flick to Quinn, crouched under your desk. He looks up at you from where he's sitting between your legs under your desk. Hands braced on your knees.

The sight of him kneeling under your desk, has you thinking downright sinful things. You look away quickly. He squeezes your knee, and you stand up, unable to deal with the burn of his palm through your pants any longer without combusting.

"Alright, kids," you clap, "before we bring out our science books, I have a surprise for y'all." the room immediately explodes in excitement.

"Is it donuts?" One kid screams, sending the other kids into a frenzy.

You laugh as they scream their theories at you, and let them get it out of their system.

"Alright!" You yell over their voices with a smile, "drumroll, please," you say, walking to the light switch animatedly as the kids tap their hands on their desks rapidly. The plan was you would flip off the light dramatically, pretend your surprise hadn't worked when you turned the lights back on, get everyone to take out their science books and then Quinn would jump out before you started teaching.

You flick off the lights, and the drumming gets louder. Then the lights turn on, and the noise ceases abruptly while the kids look around.

"Oh man!" You sigh dramatically, "it didn't work," you pout, walking to the front of the class.

There's a mixture of sighs and groans as everyone gets out their science books. Your back is to the class, as you write the beginning of today's science lesson on the board. You crook your fingers at your side, signalling for Quinn to show himself.

He jumps out from under your desk with a "boo!" And chaos unfolds. You grin as the kids scream, some of them launching out of their chairs to attack Quinn with hugs. "MR. HUGHES!!" They yell as they crowd around him, jumping up and down.

The first time he'd come to the classroom, they were mostly starstruck and too nervous to talk to him very much. Now, whenever you brought him in, they had the biggest smiles and were armed with non-stop stories to bombard him with.

Quinn looks at you, mouthing, "Can I do it?"

You nod, and he grins as brightly as the Kids. He claps his hands three times. "One two three, eyes on me!"

The kids respond in kind, with two claps, saying, "One, two, eyes on you."

"Alright, everyone, listen to Ms. Y/l/n," he grins, hands on his hips.

The kids all turn to you for instruction. "Ok, everyone, please take your seat. Mr. Hughes will be here for the rest of the day, so you all will have plenty of time to bug him."

The kids take their seats happily, unwilling to lose their Mr. Hughes privileges. At that moment, Olivia chooses to appear at your classroom door, a scowl on her lips. "Some of us are trying to teach, so if you keep it down, that would be-"

She stops mid-sentence as she notices Quinn. Her voice turned sickly sweet. "Oh! Quinn! I didn't know you were dropping by today. How have you been?"

Quinn gives her a polite smile. "I'm alright," he says curtly. You can't help but smirk as Olivia's jaw clenches.

"Did you leave your class alone?" You ask, brows raised. She huffs as if remembering she has a job to do and all but storms out of your room without finishing what she came to say in the first place.

The remainder of the day goes by smoothly; your class is on extra good behaviour, because Quinn is there. As predicted, Olivia has all of a sudden forgotten all of her teaching supplies and, over the course of the next hour, comes into your room to borrow a white board marker, a stapler, post-it notes, a pen and a couple of other things you know she has.

Olivia also definitely opened her big mouth because a few other teachers dropped by under the guise of needing to borrow something or other lame excuses. They say hi to Quinn, like they didn't know he was there, and linger a little too long.

When the bell rings for third recess, you cherish your time alone with Quinn before all the teachers who don't have hall patrol have somehow found themselves in your classroom.

"Do you ever wear my jerseys to school?" Quinn asks, offering you slices of the tangerine he just peeled as he sits on your desk while you lesson plan.

"Usually if I'm coming to a game after, or if your games are on Fridays," you say, absent-mindedly opening your mouth for him to feed you. He pops the orange slice in, not even questioning it.

"Why Fridays?" He asks, placing another orange slice in your mouth.

"Cause Friday is the last day of the week, so it deserves some celebration."

Quinn's smile is shy. He doesn't understand why you would associate him with celebration, but warmth floods his chest, and he basks in it.

As if Olivia can sense that you are enjoying your peaceful moment with Quinn, she walks in, hips swishing and voice dripping with false sweetness. "Y/nnn," she whines, drawing out the last syllable of your name, "Hi Quinny," she giggles.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Quinn looks uncomfortable. "Ok, firstly, his name is not Quinny, so don't call him that." You say, crossing your arms over your chest, but before you can get to your second point, she cuts you off.

"Fiesty!" She mocks, and your cheeks burn. At that moment, three more teachers enter, and you sigh, knowing they are all here to ogle and flirt with Quinn. Unfortunately for them, you do not have the patience to deal with this right now.

"Alright, everyone out. I'm busy."

Olivia is the first to protest, "But I need-"

"Get out." You grind, glaring at her. She rolled her eyes and hurried out with the other teachers close behind. Quinn sighs a breath of relief as the door shuts behind them. Sometimes, you forget that he isn't a people person, and the way he is around you is reserved for you and you only.

"Sorry," you mumble out, tucking your lesson plan into your binder.

"S' not your fault," he smiles

"Wanna help me set up for the last activity for today?" you ask, holding out a stack of papers in a sort of peace offering.

"Sure," Quinn smiles, taking the stack of papers. He places one on each desk, inspecting it as he goes, "What's this for?"

"It's part one of our compassion project," you say, pulling the example paper out of your binder. It was a piece of paper titled 'Who I admire' The assignment was for each student to pick someone they admired, and write down a little bit about what they mean to you and why they inspire you. Part two of the project would be to make a little photo collage of their inspirational person.

"Can I see your example?" Quinn asks curiously, joining you back at your desk; you hand it over to him, the tips of your ears going red with embarrassment. Your paper reads:

'Who I admire'

One of the people I admire most is Quinn Hughes. He is my best friend and the person I love to spend time with the most. I admire Quinn because he is a hard worker and a natural leader who cares about everyone before himself. Quinn inspires me because he is a kind and caring person who always tries his hardest and can get back up no matter how hard he falls.

"You...admire me?"

"Of course, I do," You answer softly, "I don't think there's anyone I admire more."

Quinn's breath is caught in his throat. The sentences are worded for elementary schoolers, yet the weight they hold is unmatched to him. Sometimes, simplicity meant the most. Just as Quinn is about to say more, the bell rings, signaling the end of recess.

While you wait at the door to greet your class as they file in, you don't notice that Quinn is scribbling furiously on one of the many extra sheets you printed for the inevitable mistakes and overthinkers. After the class is settled and you explain the assignment, they get to work.

A low buzz of chatter fills the room as the kids work, asking each other who they will write about. Quinn took your chair while you were explaining the assignment, so you sat on your desk in front of him.

"Here's another example sheet," He says, handing you the sheet he was working on. You glance over it quickly, your smile growing softer as you read what he wrote.

One of the people I admire most is Y/n Y/l/n. She is my best friend and one of my favourite people. I admire her because she is kind and funny and always believes in me. She inspires me because knows what she wants, and she isn't afraid to put in work to get what she wants.

The irony of the last sentence is not lost on you. Years of wanting Quinn, and you never put in the work to get him. You buried your feelings in hopes that they would go away. The fear of losing Quinn all too prominent to risk the friendship over some silly little feelings.

"I love it," you smile, pinning it on the board next to yours so the kids have another example to look at. You and Quinn sit together at your desk, chatting about mundane things here and there while kids come up to ask questions. On more than one occasion, you got asked if they could use Quinn as their person, to which your answer was no because he was your example. Quinn laughed about it every time.

"What do you want for dinner?" Quinn asks, absent-mindedly scrolling through recipes on his phone.

"I've got leftovers in my fridge. I'll eat those."

Quinn looks at you, face scrunched in displeasure. "Don't be silly, we are having dinner together. What do you want? And don't say surprise me."

Well damn. He took the words right out of your mouth. You tap your fingers in thought. "Steak," you grin.

"Steak?"

"Steak." You nod. If there's one thing Quinn can cook absolutely magnificently, it's steak.

"OK, what should we do on the side?" He hums, presumably checking his grocery list.

"Let's do that spinach fruit salad and roasted potatoes and asparagus?"

"Sounds peachy. I'll stop and get groceries when we leave. My place or yours?"

Soon, you will be able to say Our place you sigh. Being with him, but not with him is eating you from the inside out. Six years of friendship be damned. Living like this was killing you.

"Mine," you glance at the clock, ready to get this day over with and get home. You stand up, putting in your teacher's voice, "Alright, class, we have fifteen minutes till home time. Five to clean, five to get ready, and the last five to talk to Mr. Hughes!"

The kids cheer, and you dismiss them to clean. Within ten minutes, everyone is sitting in a circle on the carpet around you and Quinn, asking him questions.

"Mr. Hughes?" A little girl named Meredith raises her hand.

"yeah?"

"When are you gonna Marry Ms. Y/l/n?"

Your face turns red faster than you thought possible. Quinn looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes, a dusting of pink on the tips of his ears. Before Quinn can answer, you cut in, "Oh honey, we're just best friends." You say softly. It's physically painful for the words to come out of your mouth, but unfortunately, it's the truth.

Quinn looks at you, eyes swimming with emotions you can't discern. The bell finally rings, signalling the day is over. Usually, you would hang around for another hour, preparing for the next day, but with the promise of Quinn making dinner, you want to get home as soon as possible.

After making sure there are no more stragglers, you practically drag Quinn out of the building before anyone can stop him from flirting. "I'll meet you back at your place in a little." He says, walking you to your car.

"Yeah, I'll see you in a bit." You watch as he walks to his car and gets in before pulling out of the parking lot and heading home.

Less than an hour later, Quinn is opening your apartment door with a few grocery bags in hand. He places them on the counter, hands you the latte he brought you, and changes into a more comfortable set of clothes before starting dinner.

"Take a break and come give me a hand?" Quinn suggests, from where you've been marking and planning since you got home.

"I'm almost done," you grumble, wanting to finish so you don't have to think about work for the rest of the night. Quinn glances at the clock, "You're getting huffy," he says fondly.

"I'll be done in ten," you sigh.

"Alright," Quinn hums, "I'm physically removing your work from in front of you in ten minutes."

You glare at him, knowing he will make good on his threat and get back to work, doing only the stuff that needs to be done for tomorrow. As promised, you put everything away in ten minutes, and wash your hands to help Quinn in the kitchen.

"Where do you want me, Chef?" You ask, drying your hands on the kitchen towel.

"Salad," he grins, nodding his head towards the salad stuff on the counter. Grabbing a knife and a cutting board, you stand beside him and prep the stuff. Your hips bump and your arms brush as you work in the comfort of each other's space, chatting about whatever comes to mind.

And when dinner is ready, and Quinn pours the wine, your heart aches. The steak tastes like ash on your tongue, and you feel the tears welling behind your eyes.

"Y/n? What's wrong? Are you ok?"

You sigh out a deep breath, and six years of friendship be damned because you just can't do this anymore. Your fork clangs against your plate, and you look at Quinn with a gut-wrenching sadness in your eyes.

"I can't do this anymore," you say softly, eyes downcast. You can't look at him. You can't. Your heart would break, and you know it.

"Do what? What's wrong? I don't understand." his voice is desperate, pleading, worried. Then he's abandoning his plate and kneeling by your chair, a comforting hand on your knee. "Please," he whispers, squeezing your knee, "let me help you. Tell me what's wrong."

The outline of his palm burns against your leg. You stand quickly, the chair sliding backwards. Your head swims, and you don't know what to do next. You want to tell him he can't help because it's his damn fault. You want to say you can't do this. You want to scream.

"What can't you do Y/n? Let me in. Let me help." He says, standing, stepping into your space. For all the times it felt comforting to have him in your space now it feels like misery.

"Quinn," you sigh, "I can't do this," you motion between you at the dinner. "I can't do it anymore. I just can't. It's killing me from the inside out."

Quinn is in utter disbelief. He looks so so hurt. You can't believe you caused him to look like that. A bitter laugh bubbles in your throat because fuck. His voice sounds foreign and far away. "I- what? Did I do something wrong?"

You sigh, running a hand down your face. "You know," you start knowing you'll regret it, that this will be the end of your friendship. Six wonderful, glorious, beautiful years. The memories would be there, but the bitterness of an ended friendship would taint them.

"I have loved you for six years." It comes out quiet. So utterly quiet, like raising your voice any louder, will shatter both of you into a million irreparable pieces. Quinn stares. The silence is worse than anything he could've said. It's all-consuming, crawling under your skin with whispers of it over. It's done. You've lost him.

Something snaps, and you can't take it anymore. You run to the front door, slip on a pair of shoes and run down the hall, down the stairs and out of the building. Away from Quinn and his suffocating silence.

---

Hello hello my loves. I hope yall are doing good on this Saturday night. So, as you can tell, this is a very long one. A whopping 7.2 k words! I definitely didn't mean for it to get this long. And you know what's funny?? I cut soooo much out. Originally, this fic was supposed to be completely different lmao. Not sure what happened but here we are! I'm probably gonna make this an Au, cause the amount of stuff I thought up while I was writing Quinn x Elementary school teacher, is unhinged. Anyways I hope yall enjoy!! Love Soph.

Find Pt.2 Here

[iamnotoriginalphil]

She Said What (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Seeing Gary get down on one knee shattered you. Tasting Melissa on your lips put you back together again.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: none

It was like taking a knife to the gut, twisting in your intestines, leaving you gasping for breath. You weren’t meant to be there. Eyes darting around the room, you were desperate for escape. You couldn’t breathe. One step back, then another, you fled down the hall before you could hear the answer.

Gary had asked Melissa to marry him. And you, like an idiot, had fallen completely in love with her.

When it had been nothing but a relationship, kept on the outskirts, it was easier. Avoiding the break room on Tuesdays, not asking about weekend plans or prying to much into her relationship, you could keep your friendship with her devoid of any details. It was easier that way. You couldn’t be plagued of thoughts of the two of them together. If you didn’t think about it, your jealousy couldn’t run rampant, ruining your friendship with her.

Now though…

You’d be seeing the ring on her finger. You might be invited to the wedding. She might change her last name. It would be everywhere, in your face, reminding you how the woman you love was not yours to love. That your chance with her had slipped away.

Career day was a bust and you needed escape and yet you were trapped in your classroom with the kids, praying the clock would speed up and you would have your freedom. Right now, Melissa was somewhere in the building, a new sparkly ring on her finger, joy in her heart, desperate to go home and celebrate with her new fiancé.

You felt sick at the thought.

The bell rung and you thanked the mechanic who had come to speak to your class, shaking his oil stained hand. Sinking down onto your chair, you buried your head in your hands, letting out a long breath. You would have groaned if not for being in a place anyone walking past could hear. All you wanted was to pack up your stuff and go home, curling up in your bed and letting yourself give in to the pressure building behind your eyes.

“You look like you’ve had a day about as good as mine.”

You startled, looking up from the hands your head was resting in. Melissa was walking into your classroom, hands thrust into the pockets of her leather jacket. You blinked, trying to rearrange your face into something celebratory, not the despair you’d been feeling all afternoon. Stretching your lips into a smile, you felt it stiffen as you looked at her.

“Hey,” you said, “congratulations. I saw the feed. It was a beautiful proposal.”

“It was,” she agreed, resting against the edge of one of the student’s desks, much as she had at the front of her classroom when Gary got down on one knee.

“You must be so happy,” you said.

“Not really,” she replied with a small shrug.

“Well, not when you’re here with me but I bet Gary is waiting at home for you to celebrate,” you said, offering her a sheepish smile.

“He better not be. I don’t need another restraining order,” she said.

“Ha, yeah,” you said, “wait, what?”

She quirked an eyebrow up at you. You had no ides what was going on, on the back foot of the conversation so quickly. When her lips quirked up, you lost any words to try and fix whatever situation you’d found yourself in.

“Hon, did you see my answer?” she asked.

“Of course I did,” you replied, laughing uncomfortably.

She sighed, shoulders relaxing, “I said no.”

“What?” That was not what you were expecting.

“I said no. You know I have no interest in being married again. He didn’t listen no matter how many times I told him. We want different things,” she said.

‘So you…?” You didn’t want to assume after your last assumption had gone so badly.

“We broke up,” she said.

“Oh, Mel, I’m so sorry.”

You made your way around your desk, perching beside her. You found her leaning against your shoulder, soft hair brushing against you as you curled an arm around her waist. Her head rested against you, shifting closer.

“It’s better we realised. No resentment, no cheating, no attempted murder. A clean break before anyone could get really hurt,” she said.

“Still, it sucks,” you said.

“Yeah, it does,” she sighed.

“I really am sorry,” you said.

“Really? I always got the impression you didn’t really like him,” she said.

You stiffened. She drew away from you, turning those beautiful green eyes onto you. You tried to stutter out an answer, to refute her claim, to lie right to her face. But there was nothing. No words came out and you were left staring at her, anxiety swooping in your stomach.

“You were never comfortable when I talked about him so I stopped but I always wondered what was wrong with him,” she said.

“Is that why you said no?” Guilt curled in your stomach.

“Of course not. I really don’t want to get married again. Once was enough. I guess I’m just curious what you saw in him,” she said.

“I didn’t really know him,” you said, offering her a non-committal shrug.

“But you didn’t like him,” she said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

“It was nothing about him. I’m sure he was fine. Nice even. And you loved him. He wasn’t a bad guy as far as I could tell,” you said.

“He’s not. But I thought we were good enough friends that you’d be honest with me,” she said.

Guilt again, washing over you, wave after wave. She was still looking at you, a small lopsided smile both sad and hopeful. You sighed, leaning into her again, not wanting those eyes assessing you anymore.

“It wasn’t about him. I mean sure, I thought you could do better but it was more to do with me. I didn’t want that to get between us and ruin our friendship,” you said.

“Can’t you just tell me what the issue was?” she asked.

“I don’t think that will make you feel better,” you said.

She hopped off the desk, moving to stand in front of you. You swallowed past a lump in your throat, averting your eyes down to your hands clasped between your thighs. With a forefinger, she tilted your chin up until you were looking back in her eyes.

“I can handle it, hon,” she said.

“Mel,” you sighed, not sure how to finish the sentence.

“It can’t be that bad,” she said, “unless he was the man who mugged your nanna.”

“I don’t think he was,” you said, giving her a weak smile.

“So what is it?”

The finger on your chin was practically burning your skin. You took a deep breath, anxiety making your fingertips tingle and your stomach roil. She was still watching you and you couldn’t tell what emotion it was swimming in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to hear about your relationship because… because…” You squeezed your eyes shut, “because I was jealous.”

“Aw, hon, you’ll find your guy one day,” she said, gently nudging you in the shoulder.

That was not the answer you were expecting. You peeked over to her, her smile softened as she looked at you. You shook your head.

“Not of your relationship,” you said, shoulders slumping, not wanting to keep the secret after coming so close to telling her, “of him.”

“What?” she asked, her smile slipping for a moment.

“Mel,” you sighed, “I’ve been half in love with you for a while now. And I’m sorry that it didn’t work out with Gary because I don’t like you hurting. I don’t want you think this is me trying to swoop in the second you’re single. I’m not that unfeeling.”

The smile had completely left her face, eyes widening and the shock evident. You could only stare at her, waiting for some kind of reaction. Mostly you were waiting to be told to get the hell away from her and never speak to her again. Her hands landed on your knees, fingers digging in as she gripped you hard.

“Hon,” she said, voice catching and you squeezed your eyes closed again, waiting for the slap, “can you look at me?”

You opened your eyes again. She was peering into your face, eyes swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name. Her lips were quirked at the corners, just enough for your heart to begin beating double time. Hands slid further up your legs as she lent towards you. You didn’t know what was going on and you were scared to move. Frozen under her touch, all you could do was stare back at her.

“I wish I’d known. I wish you’d told me,” she said.

“Would it have made a difference?” you asked.

“Of course, hon. If I’d known…” She shook her head.

“It’s fine. I won’t make it weird. We can still be friends. It’ll be like you never knew,” you said, panic beginning to set in. You were desperate not to lose her in all of this. This was like your worst nightmare coming to life before your very eyes.

“I didn’t just break up with Gary because he wanted to get married,” she said, interrupting you before you could continue rambling your reassurances, “there was a part of me that knew I had feelings for you. He couldn’t be my miracle when there was someone else.”

“What?” You couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.

“I wish you’d said something earlier, hon. If I’d known then Gary and I would have never gotten to this point,” she said. Her hands were still moving further up your legs until they were holding your hips.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Hon, I’m saying I have feelings for you too,” she said, a smile breaking over her face, bright and heartbreaking and everything you’d wanted to see for so long, “I know this probably isn’t the right time to say it but you’re hot and I like you.”

“You just broke up with Gary,” you said.

“I did. Doesn’t change how I feel about you,” she said, shrugging.

“This is an emotional rollercoaster.” Your lips stretched into a smile, small and soft and the way she seemed to melt at the sight of it only had you reeling again, “isn’t this too soon?”

“Yeah, probably, so we’ll take it slow,” she said.

“Slow?”

“Look, I dunno how this is gonna go but I do know that I like you enough that I want to give this a go. I’ve been single for a few hours and I’m probably going to have to deal with stuff from ending my relationship with Gary so we’ll take it slow and figure it out together. Sound good?”

You thought about it, turning it over in your mind. You’d thought, in your wildest dreams, that if you were offered the chance to be with Melissa you’d grab it with both hands but coming right off the back of her break up it felt… tenuous. But giving it a chance might be the best thing you could do, if only to not have to think about the what if on your death bed.

“Slow sounds good,” you said.

She relaxed, as if she’d been bracing herself for rejection. The smile on her face grew more sure of itself, more playful as she lent in. You shivered when her breath hit your skin, and you looked up into sparkling green eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up under her gaze and blinked, trying to take in her beauty. Trapping your bottom lip between your teeth, you worried at it, breath frozen, watching her with wide eyes and racing heart.

“Must say, hon, you’re pretty cute when you’re nervous,” she said.

“Nervous?” you managed to squeak out, “I’m not nervous.”

“No?” she asked, drawing closer again, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she whispered, “are you sure?”

“Mel,” came out as a strangled noise, “this doesn’t feel slow.”

“Feels like I’m moving pretty slowly to me,” she replied, lips slow to press to your cheek.

A small noise came from your parted lips. She chuckled, drawing back far enough for you to see the way her eyes were smouldering as they focused in on your lips. You found yourself leaning toward her, drawn into her orbit, the gravity of her dragging you closer.

“I suppose one kiss isn’t so fast,” you murmured.

“I’m glad you agree,” she said.

Her lips pressed to yours, muffling a gasp. Arms wound around her neck, fingers burying themselves in red curls. Her fingers dug into your hips, hauling you closer until you were on the edge of the desk, her body caught between your thighs. Her tongue ran along your lower lip, teeth nipping when you moaned into her mouth.

If this was slow, you could get on board with it.

She drew back, making you whimper, fingers tightening on her hair. She placed one last chaste kiss to your lips before disentangling your fingers. The step she took back made you feel bereft before you reminded yourself that today wasn’t about you. You couldn’t imagine the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on that day. Your’s had been bad enough.

“Can we renegotiate this going slow thing?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed, no matter how much you wished you could, “we should go slow. I mean, what are your plans tonight?”

“Drinking wine until I don’t feel embarrassed that I turned down a proposal in front of Jalen Hurts,” she replied.

“Exactly,” you said, giving her an indulgent smile even as your heart raced.

She chuckled, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, taking another step back from you. Your teeth sunk into your lip, swollen from her kisses, as you considered her.

“You might be onto something,” she said.

“But maybe, when the embarrassment has dimmed a bit, we can go out,” you said.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said.

“Great, well…” A smile was taking over your face, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I suppose you will,” she said.

Watching her back out of the room, all you wanted to do was reach out and pull her back to you. She paused in the doorway before she strode back to you, both hands cupping your cheeks and kissing you so thoroughly you lost any train of thought you might have been having. Nodding to herself, she turned her back on you, striding out. You watched her, dumbstruck, wondering how you’d somehow managed to get so lucky.

From the absolute travesty of seeing Gary propose to her to ending with the promise of a date and the taste of her still on your lips. You had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky.

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Tags - Dragon! Kyojuro, Fem Reader, PIV, Porn with Plot, Blood, marking, slut shaming? details of body transformation, lewd comments, cursing

WC - 19,380

Divider by /Cafekitsune

An illness, that’s what they had said, killed a large part of the dragons. But the eyes in the room knew differently, the fire in the gazes of the dragons told a different story. Anger, Despair, Unnerve. Every emotion was directed at you, and it felt suffocating, but you were prepared for that. As one of the surviving members of the royal bloodline it was your marriage and sacrifice that would ensure the dragons wouldn’t go back on the treaty that had been signed. They would help the kingdom of Ravenhill with expanding into the mountains, help with flattening the land and defending the people who moved out of the inner city for the next 100 years. In exchange the kingdom of Ravenhill guaranteed the safety and protection of the beaches and cliffs that the dragons resided in, digging deep burrows and overtaking caves, Even forming homes under the water. Though the treaty was signed by the former king and queen, your aunt and uncle, it was up to you and your siblings to make sure it would be followed through.

“Do you Princess Y/N of kingdom Ravenhill take King Kyojuro to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” Breaking from your thoughts you looked up at the man whose hands held your own, the unblinking multicolored eyes that watched you every move. Atop his head sat two long black horns, the tips looked like they had been dipped in blood, like his blond hair that faded into red. gold chains wove between the horns decorated with jewels and stamped gold to look like leaves. This was what you assumed their crowns looked like. He was different, not particularly unlike yourself, but the wings he had tried to tuck into his back and the sharp point of his teeth that stick out even when he isn’t smiling was a reminder that this wasn’t love. This was you doing your duty, ensuring the happiness and success of the dragons.

“I do” You smiled, practiced, and poised, the picture of elegance in your wedding attire. Though the corset was too tight, your ribs begging for relief and your breasts threatening to bust the top it was a beautiful garment, off the shoulder chiffon sleeves that fell almost to your knees, the tulle skirt that trailed to the first seats of guests and the red sash that was tied in a neat bow along your hips.

“And do you King Kyojuro of the Ashra kingdom take Princess Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“I do” The small smile given to you by your soon-to-be husband made you nervous, but you swallowed that down, there was no chance of you running or people would be killed. Going back on a treaty as big as this that had already cost the dragon kingdom so much would no doubt be the end of Ravenhill. You continued to assess the man in front of you, He was ginormous, much like the rest of the dragons, all tall and bulky, Even the women had curves and muscle that was unfamiliar in your kingdom. You had no doubt it was part of the dragon in them, the muscles not familiar to the human body condensed into their much smaller forms. Though you had guessed he stood at 6 foot he was one of the shorter of the 9 that ran the dragon kingdom. Their land was extensive, and the different abilities made them that much stronger. King Kyojuro was the Flame Dragon. Though rumor had it that he was so much more than that, Lava was rumored to be a secret of his, but you hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone who could confirm that.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss your bride” the warmth of Kyojuro’s hands left your own, coming to cup your cheeks, though it felt like if he squeezed his hands would crush your skull. The kiss was quick, just a gentle press of his lips upon your own but the care he put into his was understood. He was careful about his teeth, trying not to smile into the kiss or show any teeth. His hands were shaking as he stepped back, taking hold of one of your hands as he bowed to all the guests, the applause of everyone followed the two of you as you left the castles chapel, being led straight to the honeymoon suite by your sister and his own sister. Her pink and green hair had been braided and wrapped into a makeshift crown atop her head, Between the white horns that sat in her hair were flowers, adding to the whimsy of her overall look. She was one of the nine kings and queens of their kingdom, although she stood not much taller than yourself the muscles in her back were enough to keep you hesitant. Your sister didn’t seem to get that message, chatting away as they led you to the honeymoon suite.

“You will love Tengen he is a wonderful man, and though he is loud it is only his nature. Plus, he has such a good eye for treasure, if you are lucky, he will take you on a ride to the northern isles where the audial dragons go to practice, and he had such a large collection of- “

“-Mitsuri, that is enough. Please. I understand that you are excited, but you need to remember that there is a duty first.” The female dragon deflated, her head dropping to look at her feet as she continued walking.

“I understand we are all here for marriages of convenience, to continue the Ashra kingdom’s lines and help the dragons repopulate after the” Your sister paused, trying to find the right wording “Unfortunate demise of many of your people. But surely there can be happiness in these marriages. We are the heads of our kingdoms and our lines now. We can have babies but that shouldn’t stop us from being happy.” The walk was silent besides the clack of heels and rustling of clothes. Your marriage was the beginning of the alliance with the dragons. You would marry Kyojuro, your sister would marry the Audial dragon Tengen, and Your eldest brother would marry the Poison dragon Shinobu. This was to help strengthen the bonds between the kingdoms but also begin to replace the dragons lost due to the rockslides in the mountains. It was a freak accident one no one could have predicted, but people had paid for it. Not only did it kill the former king and queen of Raven hill, but it killed 86 dragons, Including a few of the cherished dragon elders.

“I am sorry Mitsuri, I do not mean to snap” Mitsuri turned back to you and your new husband shining a bright smile at Kyojuro.

“I understand, there is a lot of pressure. Neither of us have large kingdoms and now is the time we need to join together, but we have time. I don’t think we can rush this, especially when stress destroys the mating ritual, and your stress will get you nowhere. Cool the hot head before I bring Mui to your honeymoon home.” Kyojuro released what you assumed was a chuckle, but it was just a deep rumbling in his chest. There was a lot to learn about your new husband. Thankfully the honeymoon is scheduled to last two weeks, enough time to get to know each other.

The honeymoon home was a small bungalow in the back gardens of the castle, overlooking a pond. Though it was supposed to be the home of a married royal for the first year of their marriage to provide them privacy, it would be your home for only two weeks before you would move into the Ashra kingdom with your husband.

“I know it’s been a long day already, but would you like to join me in the study? I would like to get to know you some more. I feel our previous meetings have been very quick and I’m afraid I don’t know much about the dragons and um, the thing your sister had mentioned earlier.” Kyojuro was shedding the outer part of his robes, the black fabric sliding off his shoulders, revealing lighter clothing, a thin gray silk shirt that left nothing to imagination. The fabric was very see through, revealing each scale and muscle around his torso.

“Apologies, I run hot, and all of this becomes too much.” He placed a light cape over his shoulders, covering his shoulders and landing above the grooves of his wings, still tucked into him. Although the bungalow was bigger, he seemed to take up most of the bedroom, you worried he wouldn’t fit in the bed. “I would enjoy some talking, I am done with all of this business today, seems never-ending.” He huffed, a small puff of smoke escaping his nose as he turned to the bed, folding the robes he had shed.

The two of you sat in different seats, you on the Chaise and your husband in a recliner. There was a thick silence as you tried to think of where to start. You knew virtually nothing about your husband besides his first and last name and which dragon he was.

“Your weddings are quite different than what I am used to, in our kingdom it is an exchanging of our scales. The scales on our chests are the hardest and rarest. Back when dragons were hunted, they would take the scales from our chest and add them to armor or even crush it and mix it into the walls of your buildings. I don’t know if it did anything for the buildings, but the armor is very sought after. The exchange though is a trust, it takes many years to regrow one of those scales so to give it to someone is a vow and a vulnerability to that person. Your weddings are just words that are very breakable.”

“I do not have scales to give you, I feel the closest thing would be my skin and I need that, maybe blood? The life force?” Kyojuro laughed at your notion.

“That is precious, no I will not ask for your blood, or your skin. I simply ask for a good life, and of course some children“ The main reason you were here felt like a slap in the face. You had forgotten about the weight of babies hanging over your head.

“Of course. Babies are first, which is why I really wanted to talk. Your sister mentioned a mating ritual. Um, what is that? Is it like the birds where you must create a nest of pebbles and shiny objects to impress me? I don’t have to like” You stopped, trying to figure out how to put this eloquently. “Do I have to lay eggs?” Kyojuro sat silently, the shock on his face evident as he stared with widened orange faded eyes.

“Goodness no! Eggs?! Do I look like I hatched from an egg?”

“Not necessarily, but you must understand where I come from. You turn into a dragon at will. I do not think my body can handle birthing a dragon, I may die.” The serious look on your face had Kyojuro holding back chuckles.

“I do not plan on killing you with my children. Our children will come out human, maybe a bit on the bigger side but human. The first change usually happens around 8 years of age. With the biggest growth spurt but it can happen at any age after a year. The powers don’t develop until puberty thank goodness, we have time to fireproof things.”

“And lava?”

“Lava? Is that still going around?” Kyojuro sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knee. “I do not produce lava like you have been told. It was an act of playing between the stone dragon and me. We wanted to see what would happen if we were to mix the two. A very similar thing happened with the audial dragon and the void dragon. Also, please understand we are not siblings, all nine of us. We are the strongest in our respective powers, we work well together, and we can lead together. Siblings by nature, not blood.” That cleared quite a lot up. Your home wouldn’t be melted by baby dragons and maybe you won’t burn alive before birth. “To answer your other question since you seem curious, the mating ritual happens in dragon form” Your eyes bulged at the thought, dragon form, the big one, the size of his head was more than likely bigger than your entire body. You would die, your husband would kill you. “It is not like that. I can see your thoughts spinning from here. It is a bonding even deeper than our marriages. We simply mark our partner, choose them and show others that they are yours. At the same time the mating ritual once it is sealed is when we are at our most fertile. I’m sure it can be done in this form it’s just a use of our powers mainly, some just have better control in dragon form, like the stone dragon.” He sat back “Any other questions? Or may I ask some?”

“No please, I’m so sorry. Ask away, I didn’t mean to interrogate you for all your secrets.” He let out a jovial laugh, throwing his head back in the chair.

“You are quite a joy to speak to, not very royal as the former King and queen of Ravenhill.” Your aunt and uncle, the only parents you truly knew. Grief was a funny thing, with everything going on you didn’t have time to process the fact that they were truly lost, never to return. You wouldn’t see your uncle fling peas with his spoon at your brother, you wouldn’t listen to the story of their first meeting, an arraigned marriage between a viscounts daughter and the crown prince. You wouldn’t hear ‘I love you’ come from the painted lips of your aunt and a brief grunt that said the same from your uncle. Sitting here, finally getting to think. It hurt.

“I’m sorry, for the loss. I know some of our people have put the blame on the Raven’s, but it was an accident no one could have seen coming and you have lost cherished ones as well.” His eyes were sincere as he looked down at you in the chaise, surely your face gave away your thoughts, or could he read you so easily already?

“I’m sorry for your people’s loss as well, if we didn’t want to expand, we could have saved everyone. Maybe the kingdom is selfish” Kyojuro shook his head, reaching across the divide to grab your hand.

“Our kingdoms both want better for our people, it’s why we made the treaty. Between the nine of us and the three of you, I think we can do it.” You nodded.

Evening came as you talked, joked a bit and tried to untangle the chains among Kyojuro’s horns. You tried until your lady in waiting arrived with a cart of your dinner, expressing after you eat that she had to take your wedding dress back to the castle for your sister. Dinner was a quieter affair, The two of you simply enjoying the spread of delicious fruits, meats, soups, and even desserts. It was a lavish spread, one that was too much even for your dragon husband. As he sat and digested you excused yourself to the hot springs not far from the bungalow, wanting a nice soak to get all of the perfumes and powders off of you. A cove tucked away from prying eyes and a sense of solitude.

The water was a haven, an escape from all the recent stress and an opportunity to think about where you were at. Married at such a young age, now officially a Queen, and within a few years you would be a mother. Things were changing at such a rapid pace you didn’t know how to really feel about it all. Ruling was never in your cards, your aunt and uncle were still young, closer to your age than your deceased parents. You and your siblings were never to rule, only to run projects and deal with the lords and ladies of the court. As the adopted children of the king and queen your brother alexander as the oldest was to take over, but the transfer of power was split to make up for the deaths and instability in the Ashra kingdom, you could all deal with things differently. You were the youngest, only a year younger than your sister Diane. Your wedding was already set in stone before the accident, an official partnership between the two kingdoms. Rengoku Kyojuro, the Flame dragon, your new husband. He wasn’t what you had expected. He was kind, he cared deeply for the people around him, even strangers such as yourself. Now you felt like new friends, knowing each other a little more and even having the experience of trying to figure out the chains that wove around his horns. The failed endeavor brought much laughter and gave you a sense of normalcy. This wasn’t a marriage built on love, but it didn’t have to be miserable.

“Do you mind if I join?” Your thoughts dissipated as a voice joined you. Looking up from the water you were greeted with Kyojuro, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t look away. The scales and skin that covered his body were a depiction of art. It was all protection, but it was something unseen to yourself. His body was carved, each muscle accented with scales, like decoration for his hard work. The reflection of the red scales shone on the water as he stepped into the springs. You finally looked away, clearing your throat to distract yourself from wandering too far. “I was told I would find you here. I’m sorry to interrupt” He was already steps away from you, gazing down at the bits of skin he could see in the water. “Sort of” the relaxed tone gave you chills as you tried to avoid his eyes, looking at the basket of shampoos, soaps, and various other bath remedies.

“I believe I saw some Oils that relax the body. Excuse me” any excuse to get away from your husband who was carved by the gods and given to you on a silver platter was a good excuse. You were terrified, He was very attractive but what if he crushed you? A glorious death no doubt, but still embarrassing. A hand on your elbow stopped you from getting far. He was crowded behind you, bare chest against your back as you stared ahead, shocked at his speed. He was warm against your back, soft hands caressing the skin of your stomach, not wandering far but keeping you against him. Keeping you aware of him.

“When they announced a marriage would need to be made between our kingdoms, I was hesitant but out of the nine of us I was voted as the best candidate. Something deep down told me it would be good, The marriage, the bride. They didn’t, however, tell me how stunning my bride would be, how easygoing and funny she would be” He was next to your ear as he spoke lowly, lips teasing the shell of your ear. “They failed to inform me of how soft she would be” His words ended with a kiss under your ear. “How” another kiss “Appetizing, she would be” His hand on your stomach was hard to ignore paired with his words, the vibrato of his voice sent shivers down your spine, delight igniting along your entire body.

“Kyojuro I- “

“Husband. I’m your husband now.” You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder. Hungry, that’s how he stared at you, like he was a man starved for weeks and you were a buffet. HIs eyes held a darkness that lit a fire in you, ready to drop everything for him.

“My husband” You stopped, watching his eyes flutter shut and a purr like noise rumble in his chest. “I enjoyed getting to know you tonight, I would like to get to know you more, but I’d prefer it somewhere, softer perhaps?” You spun in his arms, fully facing him. Your chest against his chest as your fingers raised to rest on his chest. His muscles flexed under your touch. You were a conductor leading a symphony on his body.

“I know a place, meet me outside the springs, please.” The grin on his face excited you, but it made your stomach flutter, nerves igniting as he quickly made his way out of the water, forgoing a towel or any type of cover to hide his nudity.

The robe you had brought was a perfect cover against the cool night air as you made your way out of the cove. Greeting you outside the entrance was something you never would have expected to come upon. The large head of a red dragon staring you down like its next meal. You yelped in surprise causing it to flinch before looking back at you. The orange ombre of its eyes told you all you needed to know. Your new husband in his full glory. He dropped his head, letting it rest on the ground in invitation. You hesitated, seeing the fang stick out from his lips and feeling the hot breath with each exhale he takes. He rumbled, displeased with your hesitancy. You raised a careful hand, placing it among the rad scales that decorated his maw. He was warm to the touch, like a space heater, almost too hot.

“What are you doing?” He grumbled again, a long leg moving towards you, the claw landing near your foot as he glanced down then back at you, an invitation. “Are we going somewhere?” another noise of annoyance with all your questions. You nodded, he wanted you to climb up, you were going somewhere softer, warmer, just like he said. Climbing onto a huge dragon was a struggle, but Kyojuro was patient, moving his shoulders to hoist you further until you were sat between his shoulder blades, gripping onto one of the black trimmed spikes protruding from his back. You held on for dear life as he moved, slowly at first as he picked himself up from the ground and walked further into a clearing. There was a pause in his movement before he crouched then leapt, taking to the skies in seconds. The wind left you breathless, your eyes burning with the speed and force of it. Kyojuro was quick to level off, gliding through the skies as you tried to keep your eyes shut, face down on his back.

“Kyojuro!” You screamed in terror as he started to dive after a few minutes of easy gliding, nothing exciting until now. The wind was unforgiving, and you could feel your fingers slipping against the force of it. Your thighs squeezed against the dragon, trying to use your whole body to hold on and not plummet to your death. After what seemed like forever he eased up. You could feel the jolt of his body as he hit the ground, scales shuddering against your body, and he flopped. Once he stopped moving you looked up, making sure you were on the ground and not weightless, falling to your death. You felt like kissing the ground while you slid off his back, careful with your steps so you didn’t hurt him. Your legs felt like jelly against the ground causing you to stumble before ultimately falling onto your knees. You huffed accepting your fate as you sat back onto your knees, eyes shutting as you took in the smell of nature.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyojuro broke your concentration with his voice. “Found this field on a flight with the others, been visiting as preparations have been made. Somehow, I knew you would look beautiful in this field, among these flowers.” You took the time to look at your surroundings, take in the setting sun and the miles of flora. It was a storybook field, The blossoms in full bloom leading to a rainbow of color. It was a breathtaking sight. “Under the moonlight the flowers seem to glow, would you like to see that?” He sounded so close, but you dared not turn around, you knew what was going to happen. It terrified you as much as it excited you.

“Kyojuro. I would really like to see that” Your voice was soft. There was a hum, close enough to you that your hair stood on end. Hands gripped at your waist before you felt him press himself against you, like a raging inferno against your back, even through the robe he felt hot.

“Then I’ll have to keep you here for a while, won’t I?” Moving from your waist to your chin his hand turned you to face him. His face was flushed, hair windswept like he was the one flying and not the dragon version of him. You weren’t sure what his transformation looked like but that thought passed as quickly as it came. His breath still smelled like the chocolate mousse you dined on for dessert, rich, dark, and seductive as he leaned in. Your eyes fluttered shut as he grew closer, anticipation causing you to lean up, wanting to feel him. His lips were cautious against your, soft and slow as he got used to the feeling of your lips against his. He dared not press into you until you asked or made the move yourself. You turned fully into your husband, arms wrapping around his neck as you rose to your knees, pulling him against your body. That movement broke any restraint he had on himself. He pulled you impossibly closer, hands holding onto you by the string of your robe, teasing with the opening of the robe. He kissed like a man Who had never felt the touch of love before, like he had never wanted something more in his life. It was rough, wet, and the occasional graze of his teeth against your lip was a reminder of just who you were dealing with. His kisses moved from your lips, to your chin and along your jaw. His hands were moving you just so he could get to you, exactly how he wanted you. One hand holding your jaw and the other untying your robe.

“Kyojuro” You were breathless as he moved down your neck, He groaned into your neck before pulling away. He was breathing heavily, pupils blown as he looked down at you. His palm held your cheek carefully. You were slow as you sat back, removing the tie of your robe, and pushing it off your shoulders. Kyojuro’s eyes did not leave you as each inch of skin was revealed to his eyes.

“My queen” His wings shifted behind him, rustling like a shiver ran through them. Once you were fully bare you looked up, meeting the eyes of your husband.

“My king” His eyes shut, a groan rippling from his throat like the words themselves gave him pleasure. You took the chance to admire the work of art in front of you, his bronzed skin decorated with flaming red scales, some that looked like they were dipped in ink, the tips darker than the void dragons flames. He was strong, his body shaped like a warrior, scars were scarce, but they still existed like the one on his chest. It looked like a bomb had hit him, like a piece of his chest had been taken out and healed over. Your hands didn’t stop as they wandered the plane of his pecs, grazing over the scales that lined his sides and decorated his abdomen. You leaned forward, lips parting as you kissed the healed skin over his chest, looking up to meet the eyes of your husband as he cupped your cheek again. There were no words, but all feelings were understood as you rose to meet his kiss again, lips parting for him. He moved forward, body crowding yours as you moved back to lean on your elbows, laid out under him on the silk of your robe. His lips did not leave yours, his hands wandering your body. He left goosebumps in his wake, body igniting with heat. You were sure you were soaking the robe underneath you as his hands wandered your body. His own excitement was more noticeable as he pressed against you, hardened cock pulling a gasp from you as he ground against your soaked folds. He pulled away, huffing for breath as he looked down at you. Cautious hands moved the hair out of your face as you huffed a breath, he was so sexy and intimidating but hadn’t failed to be kind and gentlemanly. Just in a day you had seen many sides to this man, and you were already excited for many more. His head dove to your neck, littering kisses along your collar bone before he trailed lower, slowly he kissed down your body. His lips stopped between your breasts, lavishing each mound in kisses, making sure every inch was touched by his lips. As your breath grew heavier his lips moved faster. He looked up at your flushed face as he gave a tentative lick to your left nipple, his longer tongue making an exaggerated flick against the hardened bud.

“Ah, Kyo” You gasped, he grinned at the noise mimicking the motion before he wrapped his lips around you, sucking and licking at the bud. Moans and gasped spilled out of you as she showed your other breast the same attention, humming in pleasure as you enjoyed it. With a resound pop he pulled away from your chest, spit covering his chin. You smiled back as he shuffled down your body, teeth nipping at the skin of your hips as he got closer, wide shoulders Pushing your thighs further apart so he could fit between them. His lips did not stop moving, trailing down your thighs and moving in closer to where you wanted him most. He paused, letting you whine in anticipation before he dove in. His tongue laved at your pussy like he was drinking from the fountain of youth, slurping, and groaning like it was the finest thing he had tasted. His tongue flicked at your clit, teasing and toying before he flattened his tongue and licked from bottom to top. The stimulation had you singing praises, thighs trembling as he strummed your pleasure like an instrument. Your hands gripped at your own skin, dancing between the meat of your thighs and your hips, unsure where to go but needing some grounding. Kyojuro did not stop his ministrations as he removed one of his hands from your thighs, raising it to your stomach as invitation for you to hold onto. You did not hesitate, gripping onto his hand like a lifeline as he continued to feast on you, stringing you higher until you were nearly breathless. He pulled away, heaving for breath. He looked up, moving your hand that held his to the black horns that stuck out of his hair.

“Hold on to me” He breathed, giving you moments to grab onto him before he went back to work. With both of his hands free he pulled apart your folds, admiring the mixture of his saliva and your pleasure. His other hand teased your hole, circling it, coating his fingertips in slick before he inserted one finger, watching your face as you gasped. He lavished you in praise, whispering comfort into you as he pumped his finger into you, it was not long before he added another, watching your back arch off the robe. He didn’t stop, continuing his pace as he added his tongue, licking and sucking your clit. You couldn’t control your moans if you wanted to gripping onto Kyojuro’s horns like you would float away without it. Your orgasm was rolling to a peak faster than you could comprehend, so much stimulation in such a short amount of time. You squeaked, trying to announce your orgasm to him but that didn’t stop him. His tongue did not stop nor did his fingers, if anything they moved faster, desperate to have you cum on him. You came with a sharp cry, almost a scream as you clenched around the man’s fingers. He slowed his ministrations before pulling out his fingers, not stopping his tongue until he had convince himself you were cleaned up. You shook with the overstimulation, Thighs vibrating against his shoulders. Kyojuro sat back on his heels, Chin soaked in your essence and the biggest grin on his face, all sharp teeth and pride. His hands rubbed soothing circles in your hip, trying to provide comfort while you came back to earth, the after-orgasm fog lifting from your brain.

“You are the most magnificent woman I have ever met in my life.” You gave him an exhausted smile, accepting his hand as he helped you sit up. You couldn’t ignore his hardened cock as you sat so close, it bobbed with each breath he took, red tip almost angry with how turned on he was. It glistened with pre-cum, shiny and tantalizing. You moved without a word, fingers wrapping around the base of his cock. He hissed a breath, Wings fanning out behind him. You paused, admiring the sight before you, the setting sun shining on him like a gift of the heavens, coating him in gold lighting. His wings were the same color as his scales, Glistening in the light. He was like a god, offering himself to you and you didn’t hesitate to take him. Your hand wrapped snuggly around his girth. He wasn’t as long as you had imagined but his girth made up for it, thick and heavy against your palm. You dragged your hand up his cock, Thumbing the tip. You spread the pre along his head, dipping your head to lick up the extra. Kyojuro shuddered above you as you gave kitten licks to the head. Your hand continued to stroke him as you teased the head of his cock.

“Please” He whined grabbing the hand that stroked his cock. “I will not last like this. Please, let me” you removed your hand, sitting back up as he tried to compose himself, taking deep breaths and folding his wings against his back. You reclined on the Robe, spread like a dessert buffet ready for a man with a sweet tooth.

“My queen”

“My king” you smiled as he climbed over you, hovering above you with a wicked grin plastered on his face, still shining from earlier mess.

“Is this okay?” You nodded, looping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer, giving him a quick kiss.

“Yes, Please Kyojuro” He gave you a quick kiss, looking down so he could adjust. You widened your thighs, giving him room as he aligned his cock with you. He looked at you once again, waiting for you to nod before he pushed in. Slowly he entered, giving shallow thrusts aas you gasped. You knew he was thick, but his cock felt huge inside of you, every vein, every bump could be felt as he went deeper with each thrust. The noise from both your bodies sounded filthy. You were thankful to be alone because the clap of your skin as he thrust himself to the hilt was sinful. You moaned as he pulled out, quickly gaining a steady rhythm as he worked. He was sweating above you, soft grunt leaving his lips and he occasionally bent down to kiss you.

“So good” he praised, grabbing the flesh of your hips so he could rock into you a bit harder. Your moans increased with his added pressure, his praise and his touch. Once again it felt like somehow, he had known you better than you knew yourself, he played your body like a fiddle and there was nothing you could do but take it. Your orgasm rose with the pass of his thumb over your clit, lips attaching themselves to your collar as he mumbled more praise into your skin.

“So pretty, so tight. Not gonna last” he was mindless as he spoke, lost in the heat of you and the feel of what was too soon to be love but felt quite similar.

“Kyojuro” you begged, gripping onto his back, nails grazing the skin of his wings. The appendages fanned out as you scratched at his back, begging for more but crying out too much. It wasn’t long before Kyojuro let out a deep rumbled, hips thrusting shallowly as he panted above you. Your orgasm washed over with his slow thrusts, thumb drawing circles in your clit to ignite that fire in you. You came with a low moan, taking Kyojuro’s mouth against your own so you could taste him while you experience such ecstasy. As you came down from your high Kyojuro slowly pulled out, grimacing at the mess he made before flopping next to you. He gave you a sleepy smile as you turned to face him, trying to ignore the cum you could feel dripping out of you.

“I Fear we may have already gotten you pregnant” he tried to joke, pushing the sweaty hair out of his forehead as he tried to catch his breath.

“I don’t know. We may have to try a few more times.” His eyes widened, already winded at the thought of going again.

“You sweet minx, you shall be the death of me” He laughed, pulling you into his arms, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead.

You woke up with a start, sitting up in alarm as you looked around you. Miles upon miles of flowers spread around you, reminding you that yesterday and last night was not a dream. The soreness you felt in your hips and the bruises around your body were another reminder. Your husband was fast asleep next to you, scaled arm still wrapped around your middle as he snored, deep rumbles of sleep trapped in his chest. It Had to be early morning, the sun was barely over the horizon, still rubbing the sleep from its eyes but waking the world up anyways. You embraced it, the natural warmth, the beautiful surroundings, it was a perfect morning. You took the scenery and the quiet of your morning to admire who you woke up next to, the man you got to call your husband from now until the end of time. You felt lucky, Kyojuro was nothing short of the perfect man. He was kind, funny, adventurous, he knew his duties and wasn’t afraid to speak for what he wanted, he didn’t seem to shy away from the hard stuff and he had treated you like a piece of fine jewelry, with all the care in the world. Even after one full day together you decided this could be a happy marriage, you might even be able to fall in love. Not to mention he was the picture of beauty, a child of the sun. His golden hair that landed near his lower back, the tips dipped in red, similar to the curved horns on his head, the black dipped in red. It wasn’t as shiny as the scales that covered most of him, but it was beautiful all the same. The focal point was his wings though, large and menacing you’re sure he could scare someone even in human form, but last night he looked like an angel, sent for you. Your fingers were soft and careful as they traced the scales on his chest, protecting his heart and vital organs. He was incredible, does he need to wear armor? Were the women like this? You were curious but not enough to ask, surely there were books on it. The castle may have some history books on the Ashra kingdom and its people, maybe you could learn some on your own instead of asking Kyojuro all the questions. He seemed more than happy to answer your curiosity but that would get annoying at some point, wouldn’t it? Plus, maybe there was an alternative for his mating ritual, you couldn’t possibly be the first human to bed a dragon, not when they shone like this. All of them were beautiful so that it seemed impossible for you to be the first.

“What’re you doing?” you jumped at the grumble from your husband. Kyojuro looked like a kitten who was woken up from a very deep slumber, his eyes barely open as he scratched his scalp, trying to smooth some of his hair down.

“Enjoying the morning, It’s even prettier in the morning light.” His eyes were wider, more aware as he looked at you up and down, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes, it is prettier. I think I like the view in the morning a little bit more.” Kyojuro’s eyes held mischief as you matched his smile. He was leaning on his elbows, one leg propped up, the robe laid like a blanket over both of your laps. He truly was a piece of art.

“Lay with me” It was a small ask that you couldn’t deny. At some point in the night he had moved one of his wings under you, acting as a protector, or a pillow if your head wasn’t already resting on his chest.

“Does this hurt? Me laying on your wings?” The skin of his wings wasn’t what you expected, a peach fuzz protected most of it, the same red as his scales. His body was a huge mystery, and you were excited to learn all you could.

“Not at all. It’s like you laying on my arm, it essentially is an arm. I can move and flex it like any other limb.” He accented his answer by flexing his wing. You could feel every muscle move under you.

“Your body is so interesting to me.” He made a noise of response.

“You act as if the human body isn’t interesting. You are very resilient. I don’t know how you survive without the ability of flight. Horses are nice and all that but rather inconvenient, they do not keep stamina like a dragon” You huffed, your body aching was a reminder of that stamina.

“I’ve been thinking since we are going t-“A screech unlike any you had heard before interrupted you, making you jump up. Kyojuro seemed unperturbed by the noise as he looked up. His wing acted as a shield, hiding you from sight as you heard the harsh flapping of wings cutting through the air. The ground shook as multiple pairs of feet landed on the ground. You were staring at Kyojuro who looked over his wing, eyes narrowed.

“I should have known they would send you two” His voice was deep, almost threatening as he spoke.

“Don’t play dumb Kyojuro, is that the Raven princess?” You peeked over the edge of Kyojuro’s wings at the new arrivals. You wish you could remember their names but there was little time to converse with the dragon king and queens. You could recognized royalty though, the straight postures, the sharp eyes. 2 of the kings had arrived, each different rulers of territory within the kingdom but they worked well. The taller one was pretty, his white hair was longer than Kyojuro’s, decorated in jewels and multiple braids through it. His deep violet eyes were watching you.

“You idiots. How could you disappear on your wedding night? The Raven siblings are going crazy with worry. You are the first royal multi-racial couple, and you pull something like this?” The shorter male was quick with his words, the disappointment and anger in his voice evident. “You are lucky I was here, or the treaty would have fallen through thanks to this stunt. No one can track like me, and you know that, although something tells me your dick doesn’t by the smell. Fucking disgusting, you were given a home away from the castle for that not a fucking field like peasants.” The onslaught of colorful words did not stop until he was finished. His bi-colored eyes looked between you and Kyojuro, a sign you were both in the shit.

“Are you decent?” The taller male spoke. Kyojuro looked at you, bare body marked with bruises and red with embarrassment. He was in a similar state.

“no. my queen has a robe but I did not prepare clothing” You could hear the beginning of another colorful tirade before it was interrupted the slip of the tongue as he switched to the ancient Draconish tongue, cursing Kyojuro out without you understanding, Tengen stepped in, nudging the shorter male before a silent conversation happened between the two men standing before you. The shorter male walked off, further into the field where you finally witnessed the transformation. It looked painful, the extension of his limbs, elongating his body and growing over 10X his size. Before you was the one most feared, the Void dragon. The ombre of scales that started black at the top and were white at the tips of his feet and stomach was beauty itself. There was fear in your admiration as he turned and eyes the two of you. The ventilating scales on the sides of his neck flaring with a deep purple color. He released a huff before taking off, obviously annoyed as you watched void flames eat a hole in the clouds before he disappeared.

“Apologies. His lack of sight in such an unfamiliar territory makes him uneasy, let alone the hunt we’ve been on this morning. If you could put your robe on, Kyojuro you may take one of my layers.” He was shedding the outermost coat of his off before he was finished speaking. The long black trench coat that shone purple at the right angle was dangling off the tips of his fingers. “You will fly ahead of me to the castle. There are outfits awaiting you on the bed of your honeymoon home. Change quickly while I am outside, I will barge in if you take too long. There is a meeting to be had.” He wasted no time, turning around and holding the coat out. You took that as your chance to dress yourself, removing the robe from yours and Kyojuro’s laps. He kept a wing covering you as you stood, putting the robe on and tying it tight. Kyojuro’s smile was tight, the corners of his lips not fully lifting as he strode to the other king, taking the robe and covering himself. Tension was thick as Kyojuro walked out into the field, not even done walking before he was shifting, the scales on his body stretching into the beautiful beast who has done nothing but kept you safe.

“After you”

Landing the second time was much smoother now that you knew what to expect. The effect on your body was still the same. You sat in the grass staring at the honeymoon home while your body shook with adrenaline.

“Tengen said we have about 10 minutes, would you like me to carry you?” Words didn’t come to you, moving silently to get up, taking the hand Kyojuro offered and following him to your temporary home. The clothes laid out were nothing too extraordinary, it was summer, so the clothes were lighter, more breathable. Kyojuro came out in white slacks, a red button down and a formal vest embroidered with his kingdoms emblem. Your dress was red to match, the half sleeves and bodice were thin, almost see through but the black corset covered anything that shouldn’t be seen by others.

“Beautiful. I’m sorry for the way Obanai was. He hates it here, too Many smells. Gyomei has some weird connection with the earth so he can see outlines of things but like all other void dragons, Obanai hasn’t had eyesight since he was a kid. Thankfully they sent Tengen with him, somehow, he always calms Obanai down.” You nodded, Tengen, the audial dragon king. Your future brother-in-law. Supposedly he is a menace on the battlefield, the sound barriers he has broken and skulls he has shattered are almost equal. That’s who stood outside your door. It made sense, based on Mitsuri’s chatter about the Audial dragon he seemed to be the biggest hoarder out of all of them. It was a well-known fact that the dragon people enjoyed collecting fine things, it’s how their kingdom flourished, they had a keen sense for treasures

“I understand, there is a reason the Void dragons aren’t often seen outside of your kingdom. Is there anything we can do to make it more comfortable for him here? Everyone will be here for a few months while the transfer of power and the weddings happen, plus we have to be crowned before going back to your kingdom.” Kyojuro nodded.

“That is very kind of you, if this meeting has a moment where we aren’t being chewed out perhaps, we shall ask how to remedy and make things comfortable here. You’ve done great with Muichiro and Giyu. I truly don’t think I’ve seen them besides in the seats at the wedding.”

“I think I saw a tail in the lake when I was going to the springs.” You recalled the slim object, flicking water around. “Can I ask though. That’s the first time I’ve heard Draconish. How would I learn something that complex?” The sound of Obanai’s curses made it sound like he was hissing, a slur of words and noises.

“Your human vocal cords aren’t made for it actually. Theres a level of vibration needed to speak it. Thankfully there Is an enchanter in our kingdom who does specifically that. I am not sure the specifics of what he does but he alters the brain to give you the knowledge and understanding to speak it or something. His name is Murata, he’s good. Really good as a medicine man or doctor” Kyojuro smiled. Holding his arm out for you to take.

Tengen was quiet as he walked with you guys to the castle, heading in the direction of the ‘war room’ although it hadn’t been used for war in decades it was used for meetings between royalty and visitors. The room was full as you walked in. Your siblings sat together, arms crossed and eyes pinched. You could see the disappointment on their faces. The dragons were all quiet, Mitsuri shuffling uncomfortably in her seat. all eyes were on the three of you as you took your seats.

The tension in the air was thick, no one quite sure where to start, Obanai kept his head down but his clenched fists atop the table told you what you needed to know.

“Where were you?” Your brother was the first to speak, his posture lax but you could see his anger clear as day, one leg crossed over the other, leaning on his side as he glared between you and your new husband.

“Kyojuro and I found a field to enjoy the sunset. We ended up falling asleep, it was purely accidental.” You spoke up, knowing to just admit your fault than argue with your brother.

“And I am to believe that? Your wedding night and you two disappear without telling anyone, not even Sasha.” You flinched at the name of your lady in waiting, you hoped she hadn’t been punished for your lack of care. You remembered the way she limped in pain last time she was punished. It was a dinner between the dragon elders and your family, she had slipped on a puddle un knowingly left by a water dragon, resulting in a pot of hot tea spilling on your aunts leg. The burns weren’t severe thanks to her many layers. Sasha’s burns were blistered though. You had helped dress the wounds, ignoring her pleas to ignore it, it was her fault. It was a cruel punishment, she still bore the scars but she never spoke ill of your aunt or anyone else. “This wedding was a step towards better days, to help heal from the losses from both of our kingdoms and you pull something as reckless as this? To have sex in the grass? Are you an idiot?”

“Now, Alexander. Understand it was an accident, we didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Alex scoffed, cheeks red with anger as your sister watched on in silence.

“This was childish and reckless, I expect more from you now that we are to be crowned, things like this cannot and will not happen again. No more whorish behavior, you will remain covered unless in your private chambers. I do not care how old you are or that you are the first to wed, there will not be a repeat of this behavior.” The silence that followed your brother's words stung more than the words themselves. You were used to the lack of censorship when it came to him. He was to take over after your aunt and uncle, he was the only one who truly knew how to rule. But the fact your sister sat in silence and did nothing to ease the sting of his insults hurt you a little more. You bowed your head, looking down at the ring that sat on your finger. Even after a marriage and soon a crown, you were still treated like a child.

“I do not recall whorish behavior. I do recall consensual love-making between a married couple. You will not address my wife in such a manner ever again. You may be king soon, but you are not yet. The second she married me she became the queen of Ashra. Remember your place Alexander because you will not be warned again. What we did was reckless and I accept fault. We should have told someone where we were going, let alone come back afterwards, but I will not accept you degrading my wife in front of me and the rest of the royalty in this room, am I clear?” Alexander sat straight, his eyes flicking between you and the hand Kyojuro had placed on your knee while he was speaking.

“Kyojuro, Y/N. Please do not do something like this again. Our families have suffered great loss already, we cannot lose anymore. If you wish to be adventurous, please let someone know. Or just keep it within the castle grounds.” The Poison dragon Shinobu addressed the both of you, the purple hue of her lips menacing as she smiled at you both. You bowed in apology at the gentle reprimand from Shinobu. You would much rather be yelled at by her than Alexander.

“That is not all we have come together for today though. The marriages between Diane and Tengen, followed by Alexander and Shinobu will not have ceremonies, for time’s sake and the good of both kingdoms they will be signing the binding vows and then all shall be moved forward. After your honeymoon is over, Kyojuro and Y/N you will be moved to Ashra where you will stay, Obanai, Muichiro, Sanemi, and Mitsuri will accompany you. Shinobu, Tengen, Diane, and Alexander will stay in Ravenhill along with Giyuu and I while the expansion continues. Y/N, as your marriage contract originally stated you will live permanently in Ashra, you will be given a list prefilled with what is going with you, if you require certain staff of anything please make changes and give it to your lady in waiting. Diane, your wedding dress is being altered into the ceremonial gown needed for the transfer of power and crowning. Since Kyojuro noted earlier Y/N is a queen in our kingdom's eyes she is not needed at the transfer of power, and such will happen before your vows are signed. Is there anything else that needs discussion?” Your mind was spinning with all the sudden changes in plans and your sudden status change that no one bothered to mention. You had officially been queen this whole time which means Kyojuro wasn’t just using that name in the heat of the moment. Your head felt light with all the thoughts spinning around, like a twister in your mind scrambling everything. Gyomei, the eldest of the dragon royals, waited in silence to see if there were any more questions. With a nod the royals stood, your brother and sister still seated and staring you down. Kyojuro led you out of the room with a careful hand on your back.

“Does he usually speak to you like that?” It was the first thing Kyojuro had said since arriving back at the honeymoon home, his eyes didn’t leave you as you looked over the list left for you to review.

“Alexander?” you questioned, even though you knew that’s who he meant. He nodded. “I am the youngest of the Ravens and yet I am still to become queen. I’m sure he is just upset that all his education and studies had been for naught as he must share the kingdom now. It’s okay” Kyojuro didn’t look pleased, his lips pursed in thought as he paced in front of the bed you sat on.

“Do not make excuses for him. He has no right to speak to you like that. You are your own person, a woman of great strength and resilience” You scoffed, embarrassed at him flaming your ego but also that he suddenly knew all of this and seemed convinced it was true

“We have been wed only 24 hours and you know all this about me? You may think me strong but he’s not wrong. I should have been more careful; I should have thought it through before let-“

“Do not listen to him. Do you regret it?” You shook your head, feeling so small under the hurt look Kyojuro gave you. It made you want to hide under the blankets, to wrap them so tight no one could perceive you. “Y/N, I enjoyed making love to you last night. I have enjoyed getting to know you. Have we only known each other for a day? Yes, but we’ve been betrothed for years, since my father was king. I don’t know about you but there aren’t many dragon-human relationships and if I was a human engaged to a dragon, forced to marry him I would have run away at the thought, let alone a dragon king. Our people lead through strength, meaning the nine of us have won our title by a show of strength. But you are moving forward with this marriage with your head held high, by making an effort to get to know me and talk to me like a normal person. Hell’s, you let me bed you on the first night, not even afraid of my wings, teeth, horns, none of that. That is strength, which is resilience and loyalty. You are more than you realize.” Kyojuro had moved to sit on the end of the bed, a hand resting on your knee as he addressed you. He left you speechless. How had he felt about all of this in such a short amount of time, was he feeling the same connection you had felt? There was an ease with him, like he had been in your life forever. Deep down he had been, you had been betrothed for 10 years at this point, a decade you had been promised to each other, you were raised to be his, and for him it was you.

“Kyojuro. Thank you.” His smile wasn’t as bright, not all teeth shining down on you. He patted your thigh, getting up from the bed.

The remainder of your day was spent organizing your list of things to be moved with you. Sasha sat with you as you decided what to bring and what not to bring. Kyojuro sat with you for a while, but he quickly got bored, deciding to go for a flight around the kingdom.

“So, you and the king will be flying ahead. It’s a much quicker flight than it is carriage. We need to pack a week’s worth of clothing for you to go into the kingdom.” Sasha was trying to figure outfits, what to arrive in but also is comfortable to fly in, she was scratching her head as she looked over your vast wardrobe.

“Do you know what the weather is like there?” Sasha looked at you like you had grown another head.

“Your highness, have you not read the books I’ve left out for you?” She pointed back into your bedroom, a frustrated look on her face. “I shall forgive this since I know the past couple of weeks have been a blur for you. Between the accident, funerals, a wedding, AND ESCAPING OVERNIGHT TO HAVE SE-“ you jumped at your maid, covering her mouth as she began giggling. Since the death of the former king and queen Sasha has been more open with her opinions of things, she had become like a confidant, someone you could rely on and a shoulder to cry on.

“I did not escape. We left on our own two feet, well, his back.”

“And you rode back on his front?” You gasped in horror at her brash words.

“Sasha, I am a queen now. It is inappropriate to speak like this” she nodded, turning back to the clothes in front of you. There were a variety of options, separated between color and cut. The warm colors were on the left and it went to cooler colors. Kyojuro had talked extensively of heat earlier in the day, he was the flame dragon Afterall. But maybe that was how he felt? Maybe he lives in cooler temperatures to fight the fact he is always hot.

“We have a little less than two weeks, I shall do some reading on attire and weather patterns for you. We’ll work on clothes later. Go back to your honeymoon, out” She was waving you out, tossing the edge of your dress ahead of you so you would follow. She was giggling as you kicked back at her, playful like you had been sisters arguing over dresses. The thought made your chest ache. You once had been a family like that. After your parents gave you up to your aunt choosing instead to live their lives as they had, off the money of your grandfather, the former viscount. You were still young, only 5 but old enough to remember the shock of being moved from a small cabin on the edge of the kingdom to the largest building you’ve ever seen, a castle. All you had with you was your brother and sister. Diane was 3 years older than you and Alexander was 5 years older. The age gap never mattered because it was the three of you against the world. You had survived off of mere pennies, how hard could royalty be?

“Y/N! there you are! Come, there is something we must show you!” Mitsuri was the first to greet you in the courtyard, immediately pulling you towards the back gardens where the honeymoon home was. “So. Obviously you and Rengoku aren’t the first inter-racial couple. However, you are the first royal inter-racial couple, which means you set a standard. That’s okay though because there is a long history of couples like you and different means it all depends on the couple. Like our mating ritual, did Kyojuro tell you about that?” She was talking a mile a minute, but you were catching up

“He… Mentioned it briefly. He doesn’t know how I would be able to do it” She made a noise

“Exactly, you’re so small and I’m afraid his cock would kill you” Your eyes bugged out at the crass wording. She spoke like she was reading out the daily newsletter. “So, we know how to do that, all the reading is back at the Rengoku home for you two to get down and dirty with. That’s not what were here for though.” She paused her steps right before you stepped into the back gardens. Looking at you she held both of your hands in her own. “This is a wedding present from all eight of us. I know you haven’t had time to spend with all of us yet but hopefully once everything settles and marriages are final, we can spend it together as a family. This should help though.” She was smiling as she let go of your hands, walking into the back.

Sitting by the lakeside, surrounded by small flowers and clovers sat your lone dragon, his head perched above the water as he stared at his own reflection. Was this another ritual that you didn’t know about? Was the old tradition of making sure your marriage was consummated via audience a regular thing in the Ashra kingdom? Obviously, it was consummated in a field before but when he’s in that form? Where did his cock even come from? You couldn’t see anything from across the lake. Mitsuri whistled loud enough that Kyojuro’s head popped up, yellow eyes locking with you. His jaw pulled back in what looked like a smile? A dragon smile that was all sharp teeth and spit.

“Hey! Come on!” Mitsuri yelled, waving over at Kyojuro. He took seconds between leaping in the air to landing in front of you two. His head bowed, entering your personal space with a nudge of his nose.

“Hello! Feeling refreshed after your flight?” There was a huff of hot air in response, blowing your dresses backwards. His jaw slackened, tongue lolling out as he panted. Your husband happened to be a scaley dog, with a lot of saliva.

“So. Kyojuro, turn around please, you can look later.” She was silent as Kyojuro turned around revealing what looked like a harness? The straps were all brown, almost dark enough to blend in with his scales. Mitsuri reached out, gripping one of the large straps. “This is a saddle. Like your horses, but for your husband. Please only use it for flights and nothing else, it was very difficult for us to find. Only 2 leather shops make them in the entire kingdom! Hopefully that changes but it will take time. Here, let me help you up” She guided your feet into the divest in the leather, like a ladder up to a personalized seat. There were straps that kept your thighs and body onto the saddle and a waist strap that will help with stability. “How does it feel? Uncomfortable? Do you think you need some blankets?” You were adjusting the straps around your thighs as Mitsuri talked, trying to fit it to you. “When you’re done come on down and I’ll show you how to take it off and on.”

The remainder of your honeymoon week and a half was spent getting to know your husband in every form. He spent his mornings in bed, sprawled over every inch of it and only making room for you to cuddle up under his arm, surrounded by his wings. Because he was a walking heater you only needed a thin quilt. After a hearty breakfast he went on a flight to stretch his body and work up some energy, sometimes he would take you with him if you were feeling up to it. Flying got easier with time, and it was nicer with the security of the saddle, even if the name made you grimace. The afternoons were spent in the study, you would read, and he would usually have one of the other dragons over to discuss things back home.

“Are you nervous?” Your turned in bed, adjusting the nightdress that had ridden up. Kyojuro’s hands found home on your hips, looking down from where he was perched against his pillow.

“Very. You aren’t often in this form, or your people aren’t, and I don’t want to make people feel forced to do that to interact with me.” He nodded “you are different, you are my husband and unlike a dragon I cannot physically handle you in your other form. Like the wise words of Mitsuri you would ‘kill me with your cock’ or something along those lines.”

“Oo, very wise indeed. Quite a noble death though, what is more valiant than dying on a kings cock?” he let out a small grunt as you slapped his chest, feeling your cheeks warm at his vulgarness. You had learned so much in such a short amount of time. The people of Ashra were more open with their bodies, women often didn’t wear tops when in human form and there was no need for clothes in dragon form besides decoration like jewels and paints. Although from what you’ve heard that is very special occasions, like births and marriages. It interested you to witness the overall comfort of their people, the trust in each other.

“I’m excited to meet your family though. Also to get to know your people, you’ve seen my home and the little seclusion of it. But yours sounds so” you couldn’t quite find the words to place on it.

“Welcoming?”

“Yes! Just from the sounds of it, you are in there with your people not locked behind tall walls and looking down upon them. Their struggles are yours and I feel that’s why you have done so well as a kingdom.” He was caressing the bare skin of your hip, watching as you talked animatedly about your excitement.

“You will shine in Ashra. Not only will the people find you as beautiful and ethereal as I do, but they will be able to see and know you as a person, not a figure. I think our kingdoms will be good for each other. Your knowledge of nature’s destruction and decay of the natural land will help us grow and our strength will help you grow. Then we shall be one. Like a very large family” you were nodding against the scales of his chest, enjoying the heat he radiated and dreaming of a better future.

“Family sounds nice. I want our babies to grow up in a place like that, surrounded by love and safety.” Kyojuro chuckled, vibrations shaking your head where it lay. He noticed you nodding off, giving your forehead a quick kiss.

“Goodnight my queen”

The Flight to Ashra seemed to take less than an hour but half of it was spent blinking the sleep out of your eyes and letting the cool air of the skies wake you up. Thankfully your arrival wasn’t supposed to be a grand event, there would be a feast in a few days to welcome everyone back and give you a chance to meet the elder dragons and the retired kings and queens. The clouds were low, sitting you on edge as you didn’t know what to expect flying into the Ashra kingdom. Kyojuro lived in one of the northern quadrants, most flame dragons lived there to keep their scales cool and ice harvesting was best done by those who could melt the edges and prevent too much damage. You expected hot weather, but the cold was a welcome change. Layers were easier to pile on than remove. As Kyojuro lowered himself you were welcomed with the sight of green. Lush green pastures greeted you, some dragons were lying about among them, you saw some running around, some even greeted Kyojuro, flying alongside the two of you. There was a rumble below you before Kyojuro let out a call that felt as if it could shake the earth. Baritone and scratchy it was met with everyone around responding in a similar manner. You could feel the excitement in Kyojuro underneath you. The extra effort he put into flying faster, the playful growls as another dragon joined your flight home. There was a longing to know how to communicate with them, to be one of them. In the two weeks of marriage, you had felt more like you had a family than you had your entire life. It was terrifying to start fresh, to be rushed into marriage and a brand new home, a new culture. You were grateful to be granted the official honeymoon phase, to get to know the man you would be assisting in running a territory with. If your betrothal hadn’t already been planned, you’re afraid you would end up like Alexander and Diane. Signing a paper and going immediately into ruling alongside each other. How were they expected to run a kingdom together if they didn’t know each other? Your brief conversations with Tengen and Shinobu had been pleasant, Tengen seemed easygoing, outgoing. He was the opposite of your sister and maybe that would work out for the best, open her up, bring out her adventurous side, it had to be hiding in there somewhere. But those problems weren’t yours anymore. Yours were around you in every shape and size, in every color and kind. As Kyojuro descended further you got an even better look ahead. The ground was still green but further ahead was mountains, white Mountains. Glaciers. Kyojuro explained the history of the keep, built inside of a glacier. It was a gift from the Frost dragons when the first marriage happened in history of their royalty. It was a tale that went so far back Kyojuro said not all of it was known. Due to some structural pieces the keep had maintained its place and has expanded as time passed. It was a fascinating sight, the entryway was intricately carved into the side of the glacier, it looked like a painting. The carvings were even prettier up close as Kyojuro landed in front. Surrounding the glacier were burrows, where most of the dragons resided if they chose not to stay in the keep. There were plenty of them laying around in the sun, looking up to greet the two of you with calls of their own. He laid on the ground while you dismounted, getting your first taste of the chill that came from inside. You had read about packing warm but maybe you would still need to stick with Kyojuro for extra warmth, Goosebumps formed on your arms as you looked around. Lanterns lit the entryway, dragons and humans mingling about the open doors. There was a latch on the front of the harness that helped Kyojuro take it off if something ever happened, but he found it easier than watching you fumble around with the large belts around his arms. Shaking off the saddle he looked down at you, a grumble of some Draconish slipping through his lips before he turned to head inside.

You stared at the saddle, unsure what to do with it, you didn’t want to meet his family while lugging that thing behind you, but to leave it there would feel like you didn’t appreciate the time and effort taken towards acquiring this gift.

“Someone will be taking care of it. Do not worry.” You missed the transformation of Kyojuro back to his human form, jumping at the sudden volume of his voice. He was more casual today. Long flowing black pants and a simple red vest, if you didn’t know better you would say he was going to the beach. Compared to your layers of dress and fur coat you probably made an odd looking couple. “Come on, I’m sure the family is dancing on their toes waiting for us” He chuckled, waving you over from the entrance.

The halls were wide, dragons meandered about, breaking off along the never-ending halls and various rooms, there was an occasional human or Dragons in their human form but for the most part it was all dragons. Your nerves were humming with each step. There was an inferiority in humans when compared to the dragon race. Speed, strength, size. There had to have been many beautiful women vying for Kyojuro as their partner and yet he was promised to you since you were a kid. He was the strongest Flame dragon, he came from a long line of rulers in the Ashra kingdom and he had ruled the Flame territory for three years already. Aside from his achievements, he was physically beautiful. He had sculpted himself into a unit of destruction, but the same hands that could tear out a heart, the same teeth that could tear apart muscle had shown you such grace and delicacy. Were you enough to measure up to that? You were adopted by royals, given away and not expected to do anything but serve. What could you accomplish like he could? Each step felt like a death sentence, you were walking to your final judgement and thins were looking grim. You were nothing compared to them, why would they accept you, your family didn’t even accept you. Kyojuro didn’t mention it but since you’re scolding about sneaking away you didn’t let Kyojuro get too close. He had managed kisses and cuddling but much further and you shut it down, maybe you were acting whorish, but he was also your husband, and you were expected to bare his children, right? The further you walked the less people you ran into, small waves and grumbles greeted Kyojuro as he waved back, sending love to those around but you remained meekly by his side, observing.

“Okay, so this door on the right will be our home and the left, is my family’s home. Are you ready?” Kyojuro stopped in the middle of the hall, pointing between a large red door and a much smaller black door on the other side. The obvious size difference made it obvious which was the home you would live in, though the thought of a dragon sized bed did sound appealing. Hopefully there is a bed large enough to fit Kyojuro and his wings. You nodded, letting Kyojuro drag you into what would be your new home. What you expected was not what you were looking at. The walls were made of stone and the floors were a dark wood. You made out a living room, with a lit fireplace and the comfiest looking sofa, decorated in blankets and furs. You could make out a kitchen and a hallway.

“3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a kitchen, this room and then there is a balcony that goes out the side of the glacier in the bedroom. Wanted it to be a surprise. The cold to us is so comfortable but I don’t want you to freeze so the family looked into as many blankets and quilts as possible. They are in the spare rooms closet.” You were in shock. The warmth of the room already had you getting a bit stuffy in your layers, but also the care taken and the artistry of making a home your size and accommodating you as much as possible. Your eyes burned at the thought behind your home, the love put into each detail. There were paintings along the wall, depicting the dragons of the Rengoku family in their human forms. There was no mistaking they were related, the red tips of their hair, the red sheen on their scales, the proud looks. The Rengoku’s were a sight to behold. The woman in the Photo was just as beautiful, if not prettier. Although she seemed a bit more docile the fire in her red eyes was something you had seen often in Kyojuro. Her long black hair was braided and matched the black of her wings and scales, she was breathtaking.

“Kyojuro” You spoke softly, unsure if you could speak without bursting into tears.

“Is something wrong? I can call the builders, we can find something else. Any changes that need to be made and it will be done” He was holding onto your arms, looking you over in case there was something wrong. You just looked at him, trying to prevent tears from coming.

“No! please don’t. It’s perfect, it’s beautiful.” You took a deep breath, looking around the room again. The Rengoku family crest hung on the door. “I’m grateful. You have done a lot for me, accommodated me so much and I am.” You paused, looking back at your husbands worried face, a soft smile coming to your lips as you moved to hold his face. “I’m overwhelmed at the beauty of it. The care and the love are embedded in these walls, and it is a lot, but it is perfect. Thank you” Kyojuro’s smile could have broken his cheeks, his teeth nipped playfully at your hand as he stepped back, holding a hand out for you.

“I want to show you the rest.”

The house was beautiful. Every room had been carefully picked out and crafted. The artistry had heart and it showed in each corner. The master suite was large, enough for Kyojuro to stretch his wings fully without hitting anything. The bed had been specially made to fit him as well, comfortably even though deep down you both knew he would be crowding in your space, wrapping you in his warmth. By the end of the impromptu tour, you had both found solace in the comfort of the couch. You had shed some layers, leaving you in just a floor-length burgundy, velvet, long sleeve dress. Kyojuro was spread across the couch, wings spread and arms resting under his head. You sat at the other end of the couch, just admiring the scenery. You were automatically comfortable in your new home, it felt nostalgic, like something you had been missing. A knock interrupted your thoughts before the front door opened. Kyojuro and you rose to your feet as in walked the rest of Kyojuro’s family.

“Mother, Father, Senjuro” Kyojuro greeted them with open arms. His mother was holding onto his fathers arm, she looked just as she had in the painting, all of them did. The Rengoku’s were stunning in person.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rengoku. It is an honor to finally meet you, I am Y/N Raven, crowned Queen of Ravenhill.”

“Oh, please sweetheart, no need for formality. You have long since been part of this family. You can call me Ruka or mom if you want, this is Shinjuro and I’m sure Kyojuro has told you of Senjuro.” Ruka stepped forward, pulling you into a hug as she spoke. Shinjuro stood by the door, observing and Senjuro made himself at home after greeting his brother. “Do you like the home? Kyojuro has been writing frantically since he’s been in Ravenhill, making sure everything was perfect.” Your cheeks burned at her admission of Kyojuro’s nerves, as you looked over you could see the darkening of his own cheeks, the embarrassment he tried to hide behind a cough.

“Its incredible. The thought and care that was put into making a home to accommodate not only me but Kyojuro’s size as well. The balcony is even big enough for him to jump off and go into the field for his morning flights. Its perfect. I’m very happy. Thank you” Ruka was beaming as she looked back at Shinjuro. His stoic expression melted a bit as he gave a more relaxed nod in acknowledgment.

“If you need anything do not hesitate to ask. Murata will be here later tonight, he is helping Kagaya out currently. We hope to have the speech done by the feast in two days. Rest. Enjoy your home. We will come back tomorrow” Shinjuro gave another nod as he held a hand out for Ruka, Holding the door open and letting her lead him out. Senjuro sat still on the couch.

“Can I stay for a bit?” He was looking at Kyojuro who quickly nodded, before waving goodbye to his parents. “What was your guys wedding like? I was so sad we had to miss it and run the territory. Mom and dad won’t let me fly that far by myself. Was it like the books said? Where you just say words and sign a paper?” Kyojuro sat and you followed suit, taking one of the arm chairs facing the siblings.

“It was like that. Y/N wore a beautiful dress, and we exchanged blessings and signed a contract. It was very nice, a lot less blood” Senjuro and Kyojuro laughed at your disgusted face.

“Do you like my brother Y/N? Is he being a stink-butt to you? He likes to hide my favorite shell sometimes. Does he hide your stuff?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of Kyojuro hiding shells, playing innocent and telling his poor upset brother he has no clue where it went.

“He hasn’t but that doesn’t mean he won’t. I should hide all my stuff when it gets here shouldn’t I?”

“Yes! Before he starts hoarding it like Tengen does! Mated dragons love reminders of their mate, so he probably has some of your stuff already. Tengen is marrying your sister, right? Hopefully she doesn’t have too many shiny things.” You shrugged. She was no longer your problem, you were over a week's carriage ride away.

“What do you know about mating?!” Kyojuro’s eyes were bugging.

“I’ve read things! I’m not a baby Kyojuro! I will be an adult, I will have a mate at some point!” Senjuro was huffing, the smoke coming out of his nose reminded you of the annoyed puffs that Kyojuro distributed. It was cute seeing the similarities in the family, you could only hope it would continue with your children. Kyojuro continued to pester Senjuro about his knowledge and other readings until the younger Rengoku was called for dinner.

Murata didn’t arrive until the sun had long passed the horizon; He was accompanied by Shinjuro. Murata was human, no teeth, no wings, no horns, he was only a few inches taller than you but paid no mind as he sat right down, making himself at home as he unpacked various items from his bag.

“Your highness. Y/N Raven, the human queen to the dragons. It’s an honor, and about time I’ve seen it happen.” He smiled, brushing his black hair out of his eyes before turning back to his bag. “Shinjuro, I appreciate your hesitance on me working on your son, but I fear this is a bit personal, do you mind stepping into the other room?” Shinjuro’s glare barely eased as he stepped into the kitchen, out of earshot but still keeping the three of you in his eyesight. Kyojuro sat on the couch, grabbing your hand as you sat next to him to watch the enchanter work. He pulled out vials, a wooden bowl and various herbs.

“The reason I asked Shinjuro to step out is because you two are unmated” Kyojuro’s gaze sharpened, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at the enchanter. “It is very possible to mate with humans, Kyojuro. For dragons the mating ritual is almost like a mark. Using your powers you mark your mate, for dragons it is just a mark, on humans you are almost injecting them with a piece of you. Mating with Y/N will change her physically, all I do is give that extra push to help her along with speech.” You let go of Kyojuro’s hand, there was never any talk of you turning into something else.

“The mating process will need to happen in order for her to fully develop that speech. You will take a scale, preferably a chest scale, using your flames, heat it until it clows and insert a piece into an open wound on her body. It will hurt, but only while it is happening, the pain should soothe almost as soon as you remove the scale. Y/N in order to do this you must give him blood. So, bite her, anywhere, even just a drop on your tongue is good enough and using that bite for the scale is all it takes. While you sleep your body will adapt. You will be able to withstand heat easier, your body will be able to create life using dragon sperm and your vocal cords will stretch, allowing that vibrato needed to speak Draconish. That is, it, nothing else. What I am having you drink is essentially liquid education. You are getting the Draconish language in a pinch. You can understand and speak once your body adapts. It seems simple but it is a very difficult thing to achieve. This ingredient, the dragon's bane is only found in the frost queen's territory, it's difficult to get through for me because it's found on the inside of the isalic volcano. I’ve lost three couriers in five years to acquire it.” Murata had been mixing everything he gathered as he spoke, rarely looking up from the bowl.

“Is this okay? Are you okay?” Kyojuro took the momentarily silence to lean into you, not taking his eyes off of the man in front of you. You couldn’t look away from the chunky mixture Murata was holding. You would have to drink that and then make Kyojuro drink your blood and burn you? Your head felt light, it was all so much too quick. You were expected to be able to speak the dragon language by the time of the banquet in two days. You would have to become something new. New home, new occupation, new Husband, New language, new body, new, new, new. It was too much.

“I can’t, no” You stood, quickly leaving the room and heading to the bedroom.

“Y/N!” You ignored the calls of your name, just taking time to breathe. The balcony door was cracked, letting the fresh air in and you went straight for it, wanting not to be near anyone and just think for a second. The evening breeze was cold, but it helped with the panic you felt settling into your body, leaving you wanting to run. You enjoyed being with Kyojuro, you enjoyed learning about him and his culture, but was it worth changing everything for?

“I sent Murata out. He left the drink for you to take whenever you want.” Kyojuro had made his presence known with a knock. You didn’t look towards him, just nodding as you continued to look out to the houses around the glacier. “Overwhelmed?” You nodded again, not trusting your voice. “I will sleep in one of the spare rooms tonight, give you that space. Goodnight” He left without another word, shutting the balcony door softly behind him. You immediately felt guilty for not answering, he was always willing to help you, always checking on you and you just pushed him away. Maybe you needed to clear your head with a quick soak in the bath.

Soaking left you with a clearer head, more willing to talk. Once you dressed and braided your hair for the night you went to find your husband. The room next to yours was empty so you went to the next one, opening the door slowly and peering inside to see if he was still awake. Turning to face the door Kyojuro squinted.

“Y/N?” you made a noise before entering the room, squinting to try and see through the dark. As you made your way through the dark a candle was lit, the small flames coming from Kyojuro’s mouth making the room glow bright before the lit candle was the only flame. Placing the Candle back next to the bed Kyojuro turned to you as you crawled in bed next to him.

“Can we talk?” he nodded, pulling the covers over your lap while you both sat with your backs to the headboard. “I’m scared, Kyojuro. This is so much change in so little time and I don’t want to lose myself. My body will change and what if I become unrecognizable?” Kyojuro was silent, pondering what you said.

“For the humans that have done this there isn’t any outside physical changes to your body. But if it worries you that much then we won’t mate, and you won’t have to drink the concoction Murata made. I can translate for you” There was no hesitation in his answer, he spoke so easily like he had no qualms about it.

“But mating is a whole ritual and thing for you” He shrugged

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not a monster” You looked over at the man next to you, finding him already staring at you.

“Thank you Kyojuro” He gave you a smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, looking up to kiss his jaw. He leaned down, capturing your lips with his own in a sloppy kiss.

“I want you to be happy, no matter what” You pulled him back into you, letting him crown you until your back hit the bed. Teeth clashed as your lips grew more feverish, moving with purpose as if you were trying to eat each other whole. You moaned into Kyojuro’s mouth as you felt his hardened cock grind against you. You tried pulling him closer, chest meeting your own as your thighs raised, dress falling towards your hips which Kyojuro took advantage of, sliding his heated palms under your dress, caressing the bare skin of your stomach and teasing the edge of your panties. Every touch he gave had purpose, it was gentle yet held meaning as he grabbed at you. He pulled back, lifting off of you with kiss swollen lips, teeth shining with spit as he looked down at you.

“You are so beautiful, so deserving of everything good in the world. I’ll do anything for you.” His words made you feel on top of the world, like any hardship would be okay as long as you had him. You didn’t respond, just pulled him back into you, meeting his lips in another heated kiss. He sat up, pulling you with him as his hands fumbled with the ties of your night dress. Your hands wandered the expanse of his bare chest, nails dragging along the scales of his pecs. As the fabric of your dress fell away you broke the kiss. Kyojuro didn’t stop, trailing his kisses down your jawline and against your neck.

“Kyo, do it” you moaned, trying to pull him against your body. He sat back, confusion written clearly on his face. “Be my mate” You could swear his eyes darkened as the words fell from your lust soaked lips, he wanted to get on his knees and worship you in any way you wanted.

“Are you sure?” you nodded, giggling as you kissed him again.

“I want to be yours, even if I change, only for you” He smiled against your lips, sitting on his heels.

“Okay, so I bite you, and burn the bite with a scale? You have to drink the thing too! Okay wait” He stood from the bed, wings stretching behind him as he left the room quickly. You took the time to shuffle out of the rest of your night dress. Although you had felt reservations towards mating and the changes, Kyojuro would be there with every step, and you could do anything with him. By the time you had settled back onto the bed Kyojuro stood at the door, the wooden bowl Murata had earlier in one hand and a cloth in the other.

“Let’s move to our room, there’s medical salves and stuff in there just in case” You grabbed the candle, leaving everything else behind as you followed Kyojuro to the main bedroom. You sat against the pillows as Kyojuro put everything on the table next to you. Your nerves were beginning to buzz as he sat next to you.

“c’mere” pulling you into a kiss you quickly fell back under his influence, arousal pooling in your gut as he palmed your breasts. Within seconds you were on your back, pushing the fabric of Kyojuro’s pants off of his hips, watching his cock spring free of its confines. He was practically throbbing against your hand as you wrapped your fingers around him. He was pushing the ‘fabric of your panties to the side while you guided him towards your soaked core. E released a heavy groan as his cock pushed into you. With shallow thrusts he sunk further into you, rocking gently as you moaned against his lips. There was no need for foreplay, no rush, no demands. This felt different, intimate. Kyojuro’s thrust were slow, there was no rush to cum but even so your pleasure built. Each grind of his pelvis against yours pushed you further towards the edge. Kyojuro’s head ducked against your neck, groaning against the skin of your collar bone as he continued his slow pace.

“Please, this-fuck. Please” he was mumbling nonsense against you as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting him to fully take you. He got the message, lips peppering kisses along your collarbone. You could feel his teeth drag against you, leaving goosebumps along your body as he teased you.

“Kyo” you warned, hinting that you were on the edge. He grunted in response, placing a kiss on your right shoulder before you felt the sharp sting of his teeth. It was momentary before he was soothing it over with his tongue, lapping at your skin like a thirsty dog. His thrusts quickened, pushing you over the edge with everything happening. You cried out, nails digging into the scales on his shoulder. He grunted, feeling your pussy suck him like a vice, begging for him to cum inside. With a few more thrusts Kyojuro fell over, Hot ropes spilling inside of you with a groan. Everything was still, just heavy breathing as you tried to come back to earth after that orgasm. Kyojuro was quick to recover, sitting up. He shucked the rest of his pants off, giggling at the fact you were both too eager to let him take them fully off. He didn’t regret it though. You laid in a daze, blood clotting on your shoulder and cum dripping from your pussy but that didn’t bother you as you watched Kyojuro grab the cloth and bowl. He sat next to you, leaning over you to dab at the blood on you before wiping up his cum, apologizing as you winced under his touch. He was as gentle as he could be, letting you recover from such a physically overwhelming experience.

“Do you want to drink this or finish the mating ritual first?” You blinked at him, sitting up.

“Pain then gross liquid, exciting” Your sarcasm made Kyojuro laugh, kissing your forehead as he swapped the cloth for the bowl. “How do you get a scale?” You looked around his body, taking the time to admire him again. He was a sight you would never get sick of. He lifted a hand, in a blink claws had extended from his nail bed.

“Just cut it off, which one do you want?” You weren’t sure why it shocked you, they were a part of him, but he seemed to be so unbothered by it that it made you nervous.

“Do I keep it?” He nodded

“We can make it decoration to represent our bond, a burnt scale and a sum cloth with some blood” You grimaced, and he laughed.

“Gross, let me look” you pushed against his chest, watching him fall against the bed before you straddled him, looking at the scales that covered his abdomen. You didn’t want anything that would be too obvious or would put him in danger but also the bigger it was the more it would hurt, right? There wasn’t a way to truly tell the size of them, they overlapped and created almost a pattern, so you chose a scale that was almost in the exact spot he had bitten into you. You slid off his lap as he sat up, handing you the bowl as he grabbed the cloth again with his free hand. He was careful as he adjusted, you held the scale up, lifting it from the skin underneath. He could feel where you were pulling so even without looking, he was sawing the scale off. The sight made you flinch, but he didn’t seem to be in pain. Blood bubbled under his nail as he worked on removing the scale, carefully pulling it as he sawed it away. The scale was in your hand rather quickly, the sticky rag pressed against his shoulder to slow the bleeding. You looked at the bloody scale in your hand, admiring the way it shone in the light. It felt sturdy as you closed your fingers around it, you might cut your fingers off if you held it too tightly.

“We’ll no doubt have to bathe after this, that rag needs to be burned as well” you chuckled, watching as Kyojuro chucked it before turning to you, gesturing to the bowl in your hand. With a quick cheers you downed the mysterious liquid. The bitter combination of ingredients had you grimacing, but you powered through knowing it was almost over. You practically threw the empty bowl at Kyojuro, taking an exaggerated breath you made it known it was disgusting.

“Let’s finish this and bathe.” You gave Kyojuro the scale before climbing back on his lap, chest to chest. He just watched you for a second, let you fiddle with his hair to distract yourself. His free hand squeezed your hip in encouragement. Turning his head away he let out a breath, fire licking the edges of the scale pinched between his fingers. The heat that was so close made you lean away, too hot. It made you anxious for what was going to happen next. Your eyes flicked to the dried blood on your shoulder, teeth forever to be embedded into your skin. You watched as the color of the scale glowed, enhanced by the heat. As the red turned to a bright orange Kyojuro stopped, turning towards you.

“Are you ready?” You pinched your eyes shut, frantically nodding while you anticipated him getting it over with. “Hold onto my arm, squeeze as tight as you want.” You gripped his free arm with both hands, anxiety spiking as the seconds passed. It felt like an eternity as you waited. Hot, HOt, HOT, your grip tightened on his arm. Tears immediately fell as you opened your eyes. Kyojuro had already disposed of the scale, blowing gently on your shoulder. You let out a pained cry as Kyojuro moved to hold your face, kissing the tears as they fell down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry” He went from kissing your tears to kissing the burn, the smooth skin of his lips easing the burn significantly. It was quiet, the anxious energy of the room dissipating as the pain eased. It was over, you were officially mated to the dragon king.

“It’s been almost 20 hours sorcerer, why isn’t she awake?” Kyojuro was pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. Shinjuro has shown up with Murata in tow shortly after Kyojuro had made an appearance at the Rengoku home, frantically explaining what had transpired since Shinjuro and the enchanter were asked to leave the night before. Murata was a stranger to the Rengoku’s. He resided in Shinobu’s territory and worked with her. There wasn’t enough trust between the flame king and the enchanter for him to not bite his head off right there.

“Your majesty, the queen is tired. The changing of one’s body is not easy, adding that to the fact she is in a new home and an unfamiliar place, her body needs plenty of time to recover and relax.”

“That sounds ridiculous. You never mentioned this. If the queen is hurt-“

“if the queen does not awake by noon tomorrow, you may punish me as you see fit, but I have never not seen this happen. You may ask any of your people who mated a human. They need rest. Her body is much more fragile than yours.” Kyojuro seemed unimpressed as he looked down at the enchanter. The man was tiny compared to the king. He could simply squeeze his throat and break his neck. It would take seconds.

“Kyojuro, she will be okay. If He is important to the Poison Queen, then we shall hear him out. Shinobu would never put her territory at risk by blindly trusting someone like this. Especially with something this important. Give her time to rest.” Kyojuro’s stiff posture hadn’t changed. His shoulders were still tense and raised, wings stiff and slightly puffed out, like he was trying to intimidate the enchanter hovering next to his front door. Though their time was limited, he had grown quite fond of his human wife. Her questions were amusing to him. She desired knowledge and didn’t hesitate to ask if needed. She was firm in her decisions and headstrong. Though she seemed to be troubled by her family and the words Alexander easily three in her face, she stood proudly next to the dragon. He didn’t expect to go through the process of mating. This was a political marriage, not one built from love. You only mated if you saw yourself with that person forever. Mating was a bond that changed both parties. It was an unbreakable connection that had been formed over and over for generations. Though marriage derived from mating, the dragons held strongly to that tradition. But this was different. The marriage was not built with love, but there was love in it now. Neither of them said it, neither of them ever spoke of it. But the trust and comfort they had in each other was all the confirmation needed. The visceral need he felt for his wife was like nothing he felt before. He had, of course, experienced feelings for another. He had felt lust and the envy that sat in one’s body following a crush; He had experienced heartbreak and loss. This feeling, however, was a new one. His every thought had been consumed with her, the orange and wisteria mixture of perfumes and soaps she had smelled like. The color of her eyes that seemed to be everywhere he looked, even the little lemon pastries that seemed to be more sugar and lemon than necessary he had grown fond of. He felt like a dog, wanting to be around her all the time, follow her as she looked off into nothing and ruminated on things. He wanted to sit alongside her as she wrote letters and studied books. He couldn’t put a finger on the moment he fell in love with her, but it was terrifying to think of how fast it was. He expected her to be repulsed by him, to feign happiness that barely masked her disgust of being married to the dragon. Though they never said ti outright, there was a reason humans had settled in a new kingdom, forgetting the dragons they had once lived alongside. The older siblings may react that way, but Kyojuro got lucky. Y/N Rengoku had been the perfect person all along, a betrothal that may have been written into the stars, fate spinning their thread of destiny and intertwining the chord of their lives sos they lived a happy one. That’s why the waiting killed Kyojuro, because if anything happened to her, here would he end up? Heartbroken and unfit to rule. He would give every jewel and every silk he ever collected to make sure you woke up okay.

“Alright, you may leave, I shall wait for the queen” With a dismissive wave of his hand Murata was quick to leave. Kyojuro sunk into the couch, leaning his head back on the pillows with a deep sigh.

“try to get some rest son, I shall have Senjuro sit here in case something happens.” Shinjuro didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the house immediately. Though rest ould not come with his anxiety this high, he knew rest would be a good idea. So he tried to take it easy. He took the soiled blankets, clothes, and clothes to be washed. He hand scrubbed everything to make sure everything was pristine for when you woke. The cloth had blood stained into it, but it would stay as a fond reminder of your mating. Maybe it could be used as abstract art alongside the bloodied scale that sat on your side of the bed. You would find that gross but funny, so Kyojuro kept it on him as he stepped back into the bedroom. You were still fast asleep, the steady rise and fall of your chest indicating that you were still in this world and that eased Kyojuro’s worries momentarily. You didn’t move, not even a flinch as Kyojuro crawled in besides you, laying on his side to look at your sleeping face. You were facing him, your mouth parted slightly as you dreamed. Your hands were under your head, like they were your pillow instead of the silk one Kyojuro had imported for you. It was cute, your little habits. Although he didn’t feel tired, he didn’t want to leave you. What if you woke up and needed something? He felt restless, anxiety filled his veins urging him to run, to fly, to get away. He wanted to scream, to cry. His nerves were shot looking at you, at your peaceful face, when he felt a pit forming in his stomach, growing bigger with each minute you slept. He needed to leave.

Senjuro sat on the couch, a book in his hands while his wings spread out behind him, covering the whole couch.

“Father really did send you?”

“You didn’t hear me come in?” Kyojuro shook his head, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. “What were you doing?”

“Washing some clothes, the soaps in Ravenhill are too strong for my nose, irritate me,” Senjuro nodded, approving of his brother’s answer and returning to his book.

“I’ve been reading about human and dragon relations. There are many relationships in the southern territories. The void dragons and poison dragons in particular. I wonder why that is. Does Obanai have a wife?” Kyojuro rolled his eyes at the question. Obanai would rather slit his throat than court anyone, let alone a human. He dislikes everyone, let alone someone who can’t withstand the lack of light in his home.

“Not at all. He would lose his mind before marrying anyone, dragon or human.” Senjuro laughed at the blunt answer. Nodding along.

“You’re right. Anytime I’ve met him, he’s been very prickly. Shinobu is marrying a human though, maybe it’s destiny.” Kyojuro shook his head again, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. There was no destiny for them. Alexander was a bastard, angry and spiteful. He was awful and Kyojuro felt bad for the poison dragon.

“Kyo?” Both dragons turned towards the hall where the queen stood. She wore one of Kyojuro’s robes, the deep gray robe swallowed her whole and Kyo9juro smiled at the look of her. She was still half asleep, eyes squinted and a yawn barely concealed behind her hand.

“I’ll should get home. Hello Y/N” Senjuro was quick to leave, shutting the door behind him. Y/n shuffled over to the couch. Soft steps muffled as she stumbled over the robe. Kyojuro reached over for her hand as soon as she sat down.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” There was no hesitation between his answers, his wife’s eyes trailing over his worried features.

“I’m good. Tired and a little sore, but I’m okay. It’s late, how long did I sleep”

“21 hours,” she chuckled in disbelief, shaking her head.

“That’s a lot. I don’t feel any different. Check me” she dropped his hand, standing up from the couch. She untied the robe quickly, letting it fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. Kyojuro sat in shock, looking at his wife’s figure on display. She was bruised, the bite on her a deep purple, but she didn’t seem bothered by it. There was nothing else visibly wrong, and Kyojuro smiled at that fact.

“Your beautiful.” The color that darkened her skin with embarrassment had her suddenly feeling shy, scooping the robe back up and putting it back on. She was speechless, mouth opening and closing while she tried to find a response. There wasn’t one, so she turned around, heading into the kitchen. Kyojuro’s heavier steps followed behind her, stopping in the archway of the kitchen while she fumbled around for a cup.

“Y/N” she turned with her empty cup. “I love you” The baritone in the way he spoke Draconish was intimidating, but the emotion in his voice matched with the sincerity in his eyes made her want to melt.

“Kyojuro.” She paused, surprised by the serpent like sounds coming from her mouth. She placed the cup on the counter next to her, stepping to her husband. “I love you too. You make me feel heard. I feel like you truly see me and anything I can do anything as ling as I have you. I love you so much, i have for a while.” The ease that settled into Kyojuro’s heart at hearing her words spoken in his native tongue made him feel on top of the world.