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ladsloveletters · 3 months ago

Text

BACK FOR YOU

summary: Caleb returns to find out you’re having sex with your best friend Zayne.

warnings: MDNI, 18+ content

tags: Nurse!MC, ZaynexMC, CalebxMC, FWB!Zayne, Jealous!Caleb, Love triangle trope perhaps, Caleb doesn’t die in this fic, rough sex, fingering, spitting, spanking, gagging, other filthy stuff, there’s plot in here because i enjoy context lol

word count: 6.2k

notes: not edited and read over quickly once lol just want more caleb smut in my life. also like the idea of love triangle between childhood friends.

The morning shift was almost at its peak. People flooded the hallway. Nurses at the nursing station ruffling through patient files. Doctors pagers beeping as they scurry to the next consultation. Radiologists yelling at physiotherapists to move out of the way as they haul their giant mobile X-Ray machines. In the background you can hear all the patients using their call-bells, lighting up the ceiling TV screens like Christmas Eve.

You sigh, the usual midday headache creeping up your shoulders.

And yet amidst the normal chaos of Akso General Hospital, Dr. Zayne, your childhood best friend, manages to stop in the middle of it all and smirk. ‘Have you had a break yet?’

Flicking your gloves into the bin outside the patient’s door, you turn towards Zayne who happens to be walking down the hallway. ‘I have not peed since I woke up,’ you grunt, making your way across to the busy nurses station to where an amused Zayne rests his arms upon. You let yourself rest on your side, mirroring him.

If it weren't for the many years you had known the man, you would have been fooled by his cool calm demeanor he wears so well. You scanned him. Neatly gelled hair. Freshly shaved face (he missed a spot right by his left jaw). Baby pink button down peaking through his white coat. Polished black shoes matching his pressed pants. And yet you can also note the tick of his jaw. The soft crease between his brows. The faint shadows under his eyes. Zayne was equally as tired. You chuckled, only 3 more hours until the shift ends.

‘I heard the cafeteria is now serving apple pie,’ you offer.

His dark brow quirks up, ‘Since when did you show interest in apple pie?’ he shakes his head, dark hair covering his gaze, ‘Definitely not an appropriate lunch.’

You lean further into your arm, your hand keeping your head upright. ‘I’m sure a certain Colonel would disagree.’

Zayn turned rigid. Right. Caleb.

The DAA Colonel was scheduled to return tomorrow morning. Much to your excitement, the older childhood friend couldn’t help but sense something was off. It was simple. You and Caleb would play while Zayne would watch from afar. And when the sun had set at the playground, Zayne would be the responsible one to walk you home whilst Caleb stayed and played with the other neighbourhood kids. Always measured and always cautious, the childhood dynamic between the three of you remained unchanged even with the other’s disappearance. After high school graduation, the three of you promised to stay in touch no matter what. Even if that meant for Caleb to leave Linkon to join the DAA, leaving you and Zayne behind.

You had hoped for your friend’s return. But hope can be a fickle thing.

Caleb’s eyes were fixated on the small red box. Your hands were clasped around it so tightly, your breath caught in your chest. This was a mistake. A nervous laugh bubbled through your throat as you quickly drew the box behind your back, ‘It’s a stupid present!’ you stuttered shaking your head, ‘I just saw it one day shopping with grandma and-’

His lilac gaze darkened as he quickly snatched the box out of your hands.

“Hey!’

Using his height to his advantage Caleb turns his back towards you as he quickly rips open the box again and plucks out the necklace. ‘When you come back…’ he reads, holding up the dog tag out of your reach and smiling. ‘You’re really going to miss me, Pipsqueak?’

You huff as he continues to turn away from your reach, laughing at your poor attempts of swatting the silver chain out of his large grasp. ‘It’s not my fault you chose to become a stupid pilot instead of going to med school like Zayne!’

The older boy scoffs, turning away from you once more to quickly clasp the chain around his neck. He grins as he tucks the dog tag into his school shirt. Caleb couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at the mention of the older boy's name. It’s always the same with you. Safe. Responsible. No wonder grandma always wanted Zayne to walk you home after school instead of Caleb. Zayne, your neighbour and best friend. The older upper classmen who always had people gushing about him despite his closed off personality. Personally, it always seemed to annoy Caleb.

But he was good to you, Zayne. Caleb knew that. He saw it every time he walked you home. He saw it when Zayne would drop off boxed lunch for you early in the morning on his way to University. And he knew that he would be able to take care of you whilst he went to the DAA.

But Caleb couldn’t ignore the sting in his eyes at the thought of leaving you for several months. And that's only if things at DAA go smoothly. At worst, Caleb may be gone for a few years before he’s even allowed for a stationed break. But he must go, in order to keep you safe.

��Why don’t you go to medical school if you admire Zayne so much?’ he teases.

You stop attempting to take off Caleb’s necklace and blink up at him. The cotton blouse of your school uniform is dampened with sweat from the summer air. A soft cool breeze threaded through the leaves of the large tree you stood under, cooling your exposed neck under your ponytail. A mix of frustration and embarrassment reddens your cheeks, ‘Maybe I will.’

Caleb stares down at you. He had gotten taller over the Summer. A whole head taller and then some. Graduation was always bittersweet, and to be honest Caleb couldn’t care less for all the other classmates waiting to give him a parting present as well. After the graduation ceremony he found himself at the back court, trying to get some air before all the other students rushed out to celebrate. He wasn’t oblivious to his popularity. He knew from the stares he would get from other girls and glares from his basketball team. But it never mattered.

All he could focus on was you, standing under the big crabapple tree, small red box in hand waiting to give you a farewell gift. His best friend, who for some reason was always a little something more to him.

Caleb bit his pride aside and took in a deep breath. He stepped forward which made you instinctively step back. The treebark was rough against your skin. Your feet planted between the thick roots of the tree. ‘Stay out of trouble Pipsqueak,’ he murmured, reaching forward. He leant forward, bracing himself with one hand against the tree. The other hand reached under his shirt, thumb pulling out the silver chain. The small apple pendant dangled above your eyeline. The engraved words on the dog tag stared down at you.

‘I’ll come back home before you know it.’

Zayne was always gentle with you.

Despite him being your senior, Zayne had never let you feel small. In fact, he was the opposite. Any chance he got, Zayne had made sure you felt confident and empowered and supported. Even through nursing school with late night studying and long days working at the convenience store to pay for school- Zayne was there to help. Handwritten flash cards. Homemade lunch boxes. He was there.

And when Caleb stopped responding to your letters and emails, Zayne was there as well.

He can admit, the younger boy was trouble. But he also saw how much he cared for you. After all, you were so excited to give him his graduation present that you decided to ask Zayne for his opinion. ‘Do you think he’ll like it?’ you bit into your nails. Zayne would try not to roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders, ‘He would be an ungrateful idiot if not.’

After all, you were always looking out for them both. Even when Zayne had questioned your motives to become a nurse, you simply responded, ‘It’s so I can help others no matter what,’ you shrugged, ‘And so I can see you often and help Caleb if he ever gets injured.’

It came so easily to you, helping others. It was the biggest thing Zayne admired about you. However it was also your biggest weakness, wearing your heart on your sleeve. His biggest worry was how easy it would be to break your heart.

And so it was Zayne’s personal mission to ensure that no one would break your heart. Because at the end of the day, you were his best friend and he was looking out for you. He would take care of you no matter what.

Which is how you ended up in the abandoned storage room at the bottom of Asko Hospital. With Zayne, taking care of you.

‘A-Ah, Zayne hurry up,’ you whine.

His kisses were more rough today. Something you noted as soon as he had pushed you through the storage room doors. He had carelessly slammed his swipecard against the door lock, pressing his mouth against your neck as he closed the door shut behind you. Peeling off his coat and swipecard, he dropped everything onto the floor one by one.

You turn around to meet his soft lips, pressing yours against them. His tongue made no mistake in entering your mouth swiftly, softly entangling with yours. He smelled of coffee and laundry detergent as he pushed you against one of the metal shelves. His large hands made work to the back of your head, one hand firm at the back of your neck as the other took off the claw clip of your ponytail. Your hair fell around your shoulders as your hands tugged at his waist.

‘Does this count as a lunch break?’

Zayne grunted, taking his glasses off and placing them on the shelf behind you as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. He hummed as he pressed open mouth kisses along your collar bone and you sighed in bliss as your head fell back. This is how it was. It was a mutual decision. Working at a busy hospital meant a lot of stress and frustration would pent up so quickly and easily. It was only logical to find an equally quick and easy release.

Whose idea it was, you cannot remember.

‘You’re so hard already,’ you sigh as your hand feels up the front of Zayne’s pants. He chuckled as he brought a hand forward to cup your breast. Through your thin scrubs he could feel your nipple pebble and harden under your bralette. ‘Could say the same for you.’

You huff and make quick work of his belt buckle and Zayne lets you as you pull down the zipper and drop his slacks around his thick thighs. You groan at the sight of the tent in his black briefs. Lifting your arms up, Zayne swiftly pulls your scrub top over your head and throws it into the corner. He smirks at the sight of your heaving chest. ‘Eager?’ he teases.

‘Whatever,’ you grumble as you tug him forward with his necktie. His mouth was on yours once again. His kisses tasted divine. Not that you had much to compare to. Your mouth only knew Zayne’s. And Caleb.

But that was neither here nor there. And where you are now, wrapped in the strong arms of your favourite doctor, was where you wanted, needed to be.

You bury the thought of anyone else and let yourself fall drunk off his kisses. Pushing your front flush against him, he moans at the contact. Indeed, he was very hard.

‘Do you think you can take an extra fifteen for your lunch break?’ you murmur, mouth getting swollen from Zayne’s tender bites.

Not bothering to respond, Zayne tugs the bottom of your scrubs down enough to expose your pink striped panties. His hand cups the front of your pussy and lets out a short breath. ‘You’re so fucking wet.’ His fingers don’t take time to slip under the soaked cotton and glide themselves over your slick. ‘Is this how you walk around all day?’ he grunts, ‘Wet and waiting for me to take you?’

Your head falls onto Zayne’s shoulder, mouth agape. Your hips buck and grind against his palm, begging for more than just his teasing fingertips.

‘If it weren’t for you walking around like that,’ he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanning your ear and you shudder. ‘I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything all day,’ he confesses, ‘Do you know how dangerous that would be for me, love? I am the most respected cardiac surgeon in all of Linkon and the sight of you reduces me to nothing.’

His fingers gently caress your swollen clit, massaging them ever so slowly. You can feel yourself getting more wet, practically soaking yourself into his palm. Zayne presses his lips against the sensitive spot of your neck, ‘So fucking wet just for me.’

You whine as your hand blindly reaches for his cock. You can’t take this anymore. You needed more. And today, for no particular reason, seems to have you both riled and wanting more. ‘P-please Zayne, I-I can’t take it.’

He chuckled, his fingers gliding down and slipping inside of you. ‘You can take it,’ he reassured, ‘You can take all of me just like you have been all these months.’

Caleb was coming home tomorrow.

That was what you had told yourself over and over again since you had woken up. You thought about him in the shower. While you were attending a patient’s wound dressing. While you ate lunch after your quickie with Zayne. And even now, laying in bed your eyes bore into the ceiling. Caleb was coming home tomorrow. Your head turned to your bedside alarm and sighed. Sleep won’t come easy tonight. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

You thought of Zayne. He was different today and you couldn’t pinpoint why. It was nothing out of the ordinary for you two to have sex. In fact, you almost had it scheduled every week. It was a mutual companionship you both had expressed was purely physical and even productive. As you shed away all the stresses of work and the world, you were able to relax in the comfort of convenience in one of your oldest friends’ arms.

And yet there was something about him today that was foreign. In the way he kept you close to him. Visiting you on the ward in the middle of the shift. Asking if you had lunch even though you normally skipped it in return for finishing work early. And how he had kissed you after you had come around his cock, mouth hard and earnest against you.

Your eyes remain closed, pictures of Zayne’s hot body pressed against yours. His hands roaming every inch of your skin. You bit down on your lip. Mindlessly, you let your hands start to feel up your body. The soft silky nightgown (a humorous birthday gift from Zayne last year) falling off your shoulder and exposing one of your breasts. You let out a soft sigh as you palm and pinch at your nipples.

‘Am I interrupting something?’

Fuck.

You could have swore you were dreaming at the sound of his voice. Eyes wide open you sit up, linen pooling around your waist as your eyes directly meet Caleb’s.

Mouth agape, like a fish out of water, you stare at him. Caleb. He stood by the doorframe of your bedroom, body leaning against it as one leg crossed over the other. His arms were folded and a smirk spread across his pink lips. It took you a moment to register who was standing before you. ‘Caleb?’

If Caleb grew a head taller than you after graduation that summer, then he must have grown another foot. His shadow loomed over you. His broad shoulders stretched the thick fabric of his military jacket as he uncrossed his arms and brought his hand up in a mock salute. ‘Nice to see you too Pipsqueak,’ he sings. His violet gaze flickers to your chest and you scramble to pull the sheet up to your chest. But you were too transfixed at the sight of him.

‘So this is how you kept yourself busy while I was gone?’

Pushing off the doorframe he walks into the room slowly. The leather boots and the sound of your breathing filling the bedroom. ‘I thought you were coming back tomorrow.’

Caleb shrugged, ‘I lied.’

He walked around the bed with slow steps. As if with every stomp of his boot, another thought came to his mind. The air around you drew cold and tense. And an air of uncertainty filtered into your bedroom window.

It was late at night. And in this hour, the moonlight painted silver stripes into your room. It shone across your bedsheets and highlighted the violet gaze which never left yours. It was as if the centre of gravity had shifted. And nothing but Caleb’s gaze was holding you down in the bed. You couldn’t even cover yourself, your breast bare to him. You were frozen.

‘I wanted to surprise you. But it looks like you had other things going on.’

You didn’t understand. This was not Caleb. Your Caleb wouldn’t speak the way he is speaking right now. With this air of fear and uncertainty you swallowed down your dry throat. ‘Caleb what happened-’

He stopped at the foot of the bed abruptly and turned to you. ‘One year Pipsqueak.’ he snarled, reaching forward and gripping the edge of the bedframe. ‘I was gone for one year and you had the nerve to go and fuck Zayne? Out of all fucking people?’

You were stunned.

Caleb let out a laugh you could only decipher as mockery. ‘You even went ahead and became a nurse for him! Just like I thought you would,’ he laughed. He took off his hat and your chest heaved as you fully took in his face. Pieces of short dark locks fell above his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. He placed his hat on your bed. The leather gloves tighten its grip against the wooden bedframe.

‘H-How did you know?’

There was no point denying it at this point. But if the man in front of you was truly Caleb, then you had to know how he came to know the secret arrangement you had with Zayne this whole time he was at the DAA.

Caleb snickered, ‘I always knew Pipsqueak.’

He pushed himself off the bedframe and made his way around to the side of the bed. There he stood over you, his shadow eclipsing the moonlight seeping from the window. In the dark, his violet eyes were shining with a sinister glint. He grinned, ‘It was just a matter of what I would do when I came home.’

You felt powerless. Your eyes couldn’t believe that Caleb was here. After a year of mourning his presence, missing him, the Caleb that returned was unrecognisable. Caleb smirked at your face. He could tell you were afraid. It excited him. It excited him even more to see how unfazed you were having your chest so exposed to him. His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. ‘How long have you been fucking him?’

Your eyes narrowed, ‘I thought you knew everything, Colonel.’

Caleb quickly brought his hand under your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. He jerks your head closer to him as he leans in, ‘I want you to admit how much of a slut you are.’

‘You couldn’t even wait for me, Pipsqueak,’ he feigned sorrow, ‘You just had to jump onto the next guy that offered you cock.’

You scoffed and tried to pull away from his grasp. But Caleb held onto you tightly, his thumb pinching your chin tightly, ‘Caleb you’re hurting me-’

‘How long?’ he presses.

Your skin was on fire with the intensity of Caleb’s gaze searing into you.

‘Since I started working at Akso.’

He pulled you closer, you could smell him. Smoke and citrus. His lips were almost brushing against yours, his long lashes brushing your cheek as he turned to whisper into your ear. ‘You know you belong to me.’

You shuddered at his words and swallowed.

At this point your breasts were aching, begging to be touched. And the absolute terror Caleb reigned over you had all the more brought out the tingling sensation of your arousal.

He drew only a breath back, his grasp on your chin loosening only a fraction as his eyes stared into yours. Caleb smirked as he feels you practically lean further into his touch. ‘Well?’ he asked, cocking his head to the side in feigned interest, ‘Say it.’

A flash of confusion crosses your eyes before you blink away at his request. ‘What?’

Caleb brings a knee onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. He tilts your head up, ‘Say you belong to me.’

A silver shine catches your eyes and your lips part. There, tucked away under the collar of his fleetspace uniform, lay the familiar silver chain. Caleb watches your gaze flicker back to his, and notices the wet shine in your eyes.

When U Come Back.

‘I’m yours, Caleb,’ you choke out, tears threatening to slip against the burning of your cheeks,’I belong to you.’

His mouth crashes into yours almost violently as he pushes you back down into the bed. You land with a soft thud, his gloved hand catching the back of your head as he grasps a fist full of your hair.

A grunt escapes your lips and you gasp as Caleb slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes as good as he smells as he wedges a muscled thigh between your legs. You try to shake the thought that this man on top of you was the same sweet boy who had always played with you at school. The same boy that held your backpack when it was too heavy. The same one that would tie your shoelaces.

The loud crash of boots disappear in the background as Caleb kicks them off and turns your head to the side. He wastes no time in running his other hand up your side as he presses sloppy wet kisses down your throat. ‘You grew into such a pretty slut,’ he teased as he massaged into your side, ‘Do you wear these things every night hoping someone would find you?’

At this point your panting and Caleb chuckles at the sight. He’s proud to see such a reaction out of you. Flushed cheeks. Hair tousled and sticking to your forehead. Your lips parted and almost dry from all the airy breaths.

His nose brushes against your skin as he kisses his way down to your chest, ‘Or were you wearing this knowing I would be knocking on your door in the morning, Pipsqueak?’

Balling your fists, you held onto the sheets tightly. Cocky bastard. Your knees closed in one another, locking Caleb into place. Your eyes darted to him and you sneered, ‘Maybe I was expecting a certain doctor instead.’

The growl erupted from Caleb was carnal. You watched in a trance as he licked a stripe down the fold of your cleavage. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

Your laughter was cut short when Caleb took your breast into his mouth. He sucks roughly at your nipple, grazing at it with his teeth. He hums in approval when you let out a gutteral groan, ‘Fuck.’

His other hand lets go of your head and reaches towards your throat. In a firm grasp, he holds you down as he continues to lap at your tits. ‘That’s right baby,’ he released your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ before kissing his way to the other. He draws a circle with his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his teeth. ‘Your tits are so fucking perfect.’

If Zayne was gentle, then Caleb was brutal.

If Zayne was considerate, then Caleb was selfish.

If Zayne was your comfort, then Caleb was your undoing.

You were squirming and your pussy was throbbing beneath your nightgown. And, unknowing to the man hovering above you, you were completely exposed. After all you lived alone, why wear underwear around the house? Saves on laundry.

As if he can scent you, Caleb pulls himself up and cages you under him. He rips off his gloves and jacket, leaving him in his white slacks and button down. His black tie dangles in your face as he leans down. ‘I can smell how fucking wet you are Pipsqueak,’ he muses. He palms his hard cock under his pants, begging for release. But he remains measured, composed. ‘Let me fuck you and I’ll make sure you never need to touch anyone else but me again.’

His words were seeping into your bones as his deep breaths masked his self restraint. You can feel the sheets curl beneath you as he fists the linen in earnest. With heavy lids you avert your gaze, the boldness of his attitude pinning you down. ‘But Zayne is so good to me…’

It was a mistake to even think of another man whilst Caleb practically hunted you down. At the sound of another man’s name, your childhood best friend snarled as he pulled down his pants swiftly.

Holy shit.

He was huge, even in his large grasp. You watch with mouth agape as Caleb lazily fisted his cock above you. His brows furrowed and his violet glare sent shockwaves all over you. He smirked, ‘Zayne might be good to you baby…’

‘But I’m not going to hold back.’

He leant forward once more and you gasp at the hard thickness of Caleb’s cock pressing against your stomach. You groan as he teases the tip of his cock down your navel to the top of your swollen clit. The hardened bud was throbbing and aching and practically begging for any friction. Your hands hold onto the sides of his biceps, the strong corded muscles shifting under his thin shirt.

He chuckled, ‘I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to take everything I’ll give you.’

There was no question in his tone and no room for even doubt before Caleb pushed his hard cock inside you. You let out a yelp at the sheer force of him stretching inside of your pussy. Your fingernails dig into his arms deeper as you moan, ‘Holy shit.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Caleb muttered, drawing his hips back and watching the length of his cock disappear inside of you with a quick snap. The force of his weight moved your body against the bed, the sound of his pelvis meeting yours.

It wasn’t long for you to adjust to him. Your body was practically moulding beneath him, accommodating to every curve and every inch of his hard cock as Caleb begins a brutal pace. ‘Take it for me,’ he muttered, throwing his leather gloves off and finding his hands gripping onto your hips firmly.

The sound was filthy, your wet pussy slobbering all over Caleb’s length as he continuously pulls you into him. You pant and writhe beneath him, ‘Caleb it’s too much-‘

He huffed as he continued to fuck you harder, ‘No it’s not enough,’ he decided. Your eyes were watery at the overwhelming sensation of his touch. There was no time for you to even register him flipping you over to your stomach.

You whine at the sudden loss of him pulling out of you.‘See?’ he sneered, pushing you down and lifting your hips up. His large hands, calloused and rough compared to Zayne’s, kneaded into the soft flesh of your ass. Caleb hums as he palms your soft skin before delivering a loud slap onto you.

‘Ah! Caleb!’

You shudder with each delivering blow, your back arched as your moans muffle through your pillow. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets as the stinging heat of your skin continued.

You can hear the sound of buttons popping and a soft thud onto the ground as Caleb strips himself off from his clothes. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of him naked before you, dressed in nothing but a skimpy silk nightgown.

Caleb reaches for you, grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head up. Before you could protest, he stuffs his fingers into your mouth and shoves the black cloth of his tie into it. The sound of your surprise is muffled and gagged.

‘Now I wouldn’t have to hear you say any other name again.’

He wastes no time in pushing himself back into you. The thick head of his cock parting the soaking folds of your pussy before practically sucking him in. Caleb moans, his grip on your ass tightening as he stills inside of you. ‘Fuck,’ he laughs, ‘You’re pussy is so fucking tight.’

He snaps into you, ass in the air as his hips meet yours. You fall back into the mattress, hands bracing before you as your muffled moans fill the room.

‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’ Caleb asks as he pounds into you, pace relentless, ‘Your pussy was practically calling my name the minute I stepped into your apartment.’

His cock throbbed inside of you, penetrating your walls in an unforgiving manner. He was so thick and long and fuck you wanted to come so badly.

Caleb leans forward, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you up. Your back is flush against him and the hard muscles of his stomach heave behind you. He fucks up into you, the new angle giving him an even deeper access. His other hand reaches around to your bundle of nerves. ‘This clit is mine,’ he whispers in your ear. The sight of his tie balled up into your mouth turned him on so much. In fact, the sight of you completely reduced to nothing but a cock drunk slut gave him such euphoria.

‘Do you even know how much I missed you?’ he seethed, his fingertips circling your clit as he continued to pound into you. His hips jerking forward with so much intensity you were practically bouncing in the air.

You cry as Caleb’s cock presses itself into your G-spot. The massage of his thick bulbous tip grinding against you was enough to have you standing just by the edge.

Caleb slowed his pace just a fraction as if he could sense how close you were. His hands disappeared from your clit much to your protest. Pushing you off from him, Caleb flipped you back onto your back.

Pulling the gag out of your mouth, Caleb’s eyes were clouded full of lust and desire as you wet your lips. ‘I missed you,’ you return, panting and gasping for air.

Delight flickered in his eyes as Caleb pushing your thighs back towards your chest. He held your thighs there as he lined himself up to your entrance. ‘Fucking liar,’ he chuckled before spitting onto your clit. You moan and swear as the dollop of spit glides down your folds.

‘If you really missed me you would have saved yourself for me.’

He grabs his cock in a tight fist, his other hand holding you open before him. He teases the tip of his cock, covering it in the mixture of your slick and his saliva.

‘Please Caleb,’ you beg.

The sound was glorious. This was all he ever wanted. He didn’t care about anything else. All he wanted was you. And seeing you beneath him, practically a body full of lust and heat and want. It was driving him crazy. He would almost forgive you for what you have done. The betrayal you have committed.

‘Please, please-‘

Caleb fucks you like never before. He enters so smoothly before holding onto your thighs and pounding into you mercilessly. You moan his name over and over again. Caleb grunts in approval, the sight of your tits bouncing sending him over the edge.

‘Your pussy is mine,’ he declares.

You nod in a dazed state, ‘It’s yours.’

His thrusts drove deeper, bottoming out so his balls were flush against you. You let out a long whine, hands clutching onto your tits. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t think of anything else but Caleb fucking you so good. Your fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, palming and kneading your soft breasts.

‘That’s right baby,’ Caleb sighs at the sight, drinking you in. ‘Play with your tits as I fuck into you.’

His words turned you on so much. The filthy sounds of you fucking and his degrading tone left you feeling an incredible high. You knew you were close.

‘I’m going to come inside of you and you’re going to take it for me. You’re going to be a good girl for once and fucking take it.’

You nod. At this point you were agreeable to anything as long as Caleb continued to fuck you. You chew onto your bottom lip, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his cock continuously hitting that delicious spot.

‘That’s it baby,’ he moans, ‘Fuck you look so good taking my cock like that.’

Your mouth was dry as you stare into him. His foggy gaze was determined and shadowed with an almost animalistic lust. Your hands cup your breasts as you continue to bounce off him.

Fuck, he was going to come. The sight of you was too much. And at the edge of his unraveling, you leaned forward and pressed your mouth onto his. Your tongue lapped at his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into his flesh. Sucking at his lip, you moaned as his silver necklace pressed against your breast.

His kiss was hot and reckless. Losing all sense of control, you feel your own unraveling come before you. Letting out a long whine your pussy clenches around Caleb’s cock as you feel yourself coming over him. It was too much. All too much. The intense pull of your pussy and the taste of your tongue and the smell of you hair was driving Caleb closer and closer to the point of no return.

‘That’s right, come around my cock,’ he shuddered, ‘Show me how good my cock makes your pussy feel.’

His handprints were branding marks on your skin as Caleb delivers his final crushing thrusts into your pussy, claiming all that you could give to him. A wave of pleasure crashed into him as Caleb’s pace faltered. ‘Fuck!’

Hot white ropes of Caleb’s come seeps into you as he continues to fuck into your pussy. You moan his name several times, wrapping your arms around his neck. Caleb brings his arms around you, holding you above him as you grind onto his cock milking his come out of him.

‘Don’t stop fucking moving,’ he commanded, panting into your ear as you grind against him.

You moan loudly as you lazily roll your hips against him, chasing your high as your legs wrapped around his waist with Caleb sat on his knees under you. Your clit, swollen and tortured, rubs against his groin as you feel his come fill you up entirely.

Your hands run through his hair, sweaty and ruffled as you stare into his half-lidded gaze. His eyes flickered to your tongue as it sweeps over your swollen bottom lip. Caleb leans in to kiss you. This time it was more gentle, more soft. Almost tender.

You both take a moment to catch your breaths. Limbs still tangled and entwined, you remain still together in the bed. His cock was still warm inside of you. You didn’t care to move.

You sniffle at the sight of him. ‘How long are you here for?’ you whisper.

In the darkest of hour in the night, despite your loud rendezvous moments ago, your question was quiet and filled with fear and anxiety. Caleb is back. And you don’t think you could ever see him leave again.

Caleb offers you a small smile, arms wrapping around your waist again as you push back his hair from his sweaty forehead. ‘I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be, Pipsqueak,’ he teased. You grunt and slap his chest to which he burst into laughter. The tension in your shoulders lifting at the sound.

Caleb grins and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes as he brings his hand to cup the back of your neck. Pulling you down, his forehead presses against yours.

‘I came back for you, Pipsqueak.’

Your breath hitches as you can feel Caleb’s cock growing hard again inside of you. His other hand resting on the side of your thigh, his thumb massaging soft circles into your hot skin. The fire in your chest reignites at the carnal desire growing back in his violet eyes.

‘I won’t be leaving anytime soon.’

#lads #lads smut #love and deepspace #love and deep space #lads caleb #lads zayne #lads fic #caleb x reader #zayne x reader #caleb x mc #zayne x mc #caleb smut #zayne smut #caleb fanfic

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dollfacefantasy · 4 months ago

Text

TELL ME WHEN YOU HEAR MY HEART STOP ♡

pairing: naoya zen'in x fem!reader

summary: today's a very special day for you and naoya, and he plans to celebrate it with a very special gift.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, stockholm syndrome, p in v, fingering, breeding kink, puppy play, misogyny, mentions of spanking, corporal punishment, and psychological torture stuff

a/n: birthday gift for my sweet wonderful friend who i love so very much @nexysworld <3 also!! imagine naoya as a few years older than his canon age for the timeline in this story to work.

“Naoya taking a wife… I never thought I’d see the day.”

The sound of Jinichi’s voice speaking his name drew Naoya’s attention to the two men walking several feet ahead of him on the stone path. His golden eyes flitted from the blue sky above to the pair of them, narrowing as he focused on hearing the next part of the conversation.

“It’s not that shocking,” Ogi replied, “He’s the future head of the clan. There’s no way Naobito would let him fail to produce an heir. Even if the old man had to find some bitch to pay off, the kid was always going to get married.”

“That’s true, but don’t you find it the least bit odd? Seeing him at events with some girl on his arm now? Before, he could never shut up about how the women shouldn’t even be allowed at those things. To be honest with you, I always thought he swung the other way,” Jinichi added.

“Well, yeah. But look at her. If he was ever gonna wed a woman, it was gonna be one like her. Quiet as a mouse. Moves through rooms like a scrap of silk in the wind. Doesn’t go anywhere without him,” Ogi reasoned.

“I don’t think that’s her choice,” the other man quipped.

Ogi shrugged. “Maybe not, but she goes along with it. I only wonder if she’s always been so naturally obedient or if the kid beat it into her.”

Gritting his teeth, Naoya had enough of listening to this. He sped up to catch his relatives. Once within arm’s length, he laid a hand upon Jinichi’s shoulder and pulled him around. His lips curled into a sneer upon making eye contact.

The sudden tug shocked the older Zen’in, his brows raising and lips pausing around the word they had been forming. Ogi followed his direction and came to face the future head of the clan as well. The three of them stood there for a moment. Naoya let them have a few seconds to register that he’d heard their conversation.

“I’ve never thought of either of you as intelligent, but I thought you smarter than thinking it was acceptable to disparage your future clan leader out in the open like this,” he said.

“Our words weren’t intended to be negative, Naoya. We didn’t mean to upset you,” Jinichi started.

“Because you didn’t think I would hear,” he shot back.

From the looks on the two faces in front of him, it was clear the men weren’t afraid of Naoya. That irritated him of course. He wanted all of them to fear him, to feel that if they so much as put him in a bad mood, they would suffer. But the emotion he did see on their features satisfied him enough to prevent that from being a pressing issue.

The gleam in both Jinichi and Ogi’s eyes told him they respected his rank. They may hate him and believe him to be nothing more than Naobito’s spoiled-rotten son, but they accepted the fact that there was nothing they could do about it. And he almost liked that more.

“But really? The implication that I have to lay hands on my betrothed to receive her submission wasn’t meant to be an insult?” he mocked, “The idea that my father would have to pay some woman to be my wife wasn’t said to demean me? I don’t believe that for a second.”

“They were just jokes,” Ogi defended, “How you deal with your woman is your business.”

“Oh, I know it is. How I discipline her is of no concern to you, but do you really think I would have chosen someone so unruly to spend my life with?” he questioned.

“It’s just that you have such high standards-” Jinichi stated.

“I do have high standards. And she meets every single one,” Naoya cut him off, “You two don’t have to explain any further. I’ve already decided to forgive you because I know the root of all of this is jealousy. Ogi, I can tell you wish there was some way you could trade in your wife for mine. Someone young and fresh. Eager and passionate. Not dried up and drained of any personality from more than a decade of dealing with you.

“And Jinichi. Have you ever even been with a girl? I’m sure if my wife took the time to so much as smile at you, she’d have you trailing her like a drooling dog. So please, spare me your judgements about her being ‘quiet’ or shy or whatever you think. There simply isn’t much to say when the company is made up of people like you two,” he finished.

The both of them blinked at Naoya in return, unsure of what to say in response to the scathing words. Arguing would probably cause a blow up that would draw the attention of Naobito, but cowering would inflate the young man’s already super-sized ego. Luckily for them, Naoya continued speaking before they had to make a decision.

“Either way, it’s all water under the bridge. I know you two won’t make this mistake again,” he smiled, “But in case you need the reminder, don’t ever utter the word ‘bitch’ in a discussion about my wife. And if I hear you calling me kid again, you’ll find yourself feeling sorely out of place when I take mine as head of this clan.”

This time Naoya didn’t bother waiting for a potential reply before pushing through them and continuing his walk. The pathway fell into serene silence now that it wasn’t polluted by their annoying chatter. Birds chirped in the trees above while a gentle Spring breeze rustled the hedges on either side of him.

He let out a soft sigh as he turned a corner as his shared suite came into view in the distance. Never did Naoya think he’d see the day where he defended a woman so valiantly. Though that was the crux of why he did it he supposed. You weren’t just some woman. You were his. His bride-to-be, his beloved, his special girl. The only person of the female persuasion he’d let walk one pace behind him instead of three.

God, it was ridiculous. Even thinking of you now made his heart race. He envisioned your sweet, sparkling eyes. Your cute lips that tasted like the richest wine in the world. That luscious body below that gave him wet dreams like he was a horny teenager.

He sighed, longing for you even though he’d be in your presence in a matter of seconds. No matter how often he saw you, it seemed it was never enough. If he could, he’d blow off all his duties around here and stay with you for the entire day.

Opening the miniature gates to his suite, he walked across the paved path to a small wooden staircase. He headed up the three steps and finally reached the doorway that would lead to you.

Upon entering his home, he slipped off his shoes and took a glance in the nearby mirror to make sure his hair was in place. On the thin end table against the wall was a pile of wedding invitations. The sight of them brought a smirk to his lips. Save the date! Mr. and Mrs. Zen’in would like to invite you… scrawled in elegant calligraphy and bordered in gold trim.

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” he called through the house.

He waited a few seconds for the sound of you rushing towards him. That phrase served the same purpose as a whistle to a trained hound. He’d taught you well over the last year. Everyday when he said those words, he could count on you to come to him, to ask about his day, and check on what he needed.

Only today, he didn’t hear the pitter-patter of your footsteps.

His eyebrow raised. In an instant, his body tensed, his lips set into a scowl. He tried telling himself you could be temporarily occupied. Maybe you were taking a bath or had fallen asleep for an afternoon nap. You could just be watching tv or listening to some music that muffled the sound of his voice.

He knew it was probably one of those, but his mind couldn’t help going to the worst place. That you had escaped.

His fist clenched by his sides. He bit the inside of his cheek. Walking further into your shared home, his eyes glanced around to look for any immediate signs of your departure. So far there was nothing. All the furniture was in place, no windows had been left ajar, one of your jackets draped across the back of an armchair.

She knows better now, he thought to himself. Last time you’d tried leaving two months ago, he had hoped it would be the last time. He’d caught you tumbling from the bedroom window while coming home to fetch a paper he’d forgotten. If he found out you’d pulled the vanishing act again today, he’d make the fury he’d felt in that moment seem like minor irritation.

When you tried leaving out the window, the two of you had locked eyes as you clambered off the ground. It would have been kind of cute if he wasn’t so pissed, the way he could see the realization in your eyes that you had majorly fucked up. You tried running, but Naoya was fast. He had you by the back of the neck in seconds, his nails digging into your tender skin.

“My little puppy felt like exploring outside her crate, hm?” he’d asked with barely constrained rage, “You know you’re supposed to ask for permission to do that. You’re not allowed to wander on your own yet.”

Naoya always ended his rules in yet even though he wasn’t sure if he actually planned on ever giving you the freedoms he currently forbade. A small part of him believed that the false hope would inspire your obedience better than direct punishments would. Not that it stopped him from giving you regular punishment though. That day he dragged you back into the house and spanked you till your ass was raw. You wouldn’t have been able to run for a light jog after that. It left you crying for nearly a whole day, so he had hoped it would have been a lasting lesson.

He continued to prowl through the house like a fox hunting its prey. Gliding into the kitchen, he again saw nothing out of the ordinary. You even had the oven on. He wanted that to be enough to put him at ease, but he couldn’t let himself relax. You might have left it on intending to burn the house down.

From there he slipped into the hall. You weren’t in any of the rooms off that walkway, so he headed for the stairs. He moved up them in silence. If you were still here, he didn’t want you to know his exact location. Paranoia had fully taken root. It wasn’t just escape that worried him now. Maybe you had figured out that never worked. You could have graduated to planning an attack. That wouldn’t work either, but he wouldn’t put it past you. For all the times you’d wailed about wanting to kill him, he didn’t believe logic factored into these little rebellions.

God, what if you had found the propofol in his nightstand. He kept it unlabeled, but you’d probably recognize that milky liquid by now. You could have found the syringes in his sock drawer too while doing the laundry.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You could be waiting, tucked behind a corner, ready to jab him in the throat like he’d done to you a year ago. In his defense though, you actually needed it. You were so upset that night, it bordered on hysterical. He’d come over to keep you company because even though he’d only been with you for a year, he’d known you much longer.

You were Toji’s girlfriend.

He’d met you while trying to track him down years before. The day he spotted you, his eyes had been trying to find his older cousin on a crowded city street. Instead they landed on you. Back then, you had a real baby face. Your eyes shined under the rays like they'd never known a cloudy day. The delicate daylight made your skin glow and your features appear softer. He felt drawn to you. It was like fate that you happened to be hanging off Toji’s arm.

Naoya had become friends with both of you. Hanging out with Toji was great because he was Toji. Naoya would have had fun with him if they just sat there and stared at each other. But shocking to everyone including himself, he actually liked you. He acted polite towards you, friendly even. He naturally smiled when you laughed. His eyes watched you during conversation. He took interest in the things you said.

In his mind, he maintained that he still didn’t like the company of women for the most part. But if Toji took an interest in you, there must have been something that made you worthwhile.

He fell in love with you silently. It was a feeling he never planned to act on. He would never betray his cousin like that. Instead, he’d just observe you in awe from a distance. He’d resign himself to only being your friend. Cousin-in-law if it came to that.

But then Toji died.

It left you devastated. Naoya felt hollowed out too, of course. He never thought he’d see Toji die. Part of him didn’t even believe that was possible. But even in comparison to his shock and grief and despair, you took it really hard.

You pulled away from him. Gaps between his visits transformed from days to weeks to months. You never outright told him you didn’t want him around. Your offers to play video games just dried up. You didn’t start conversations anymore, only offering minimal reactions to what he said. Most days you were busy taking extra shifts at work and on weekends you were hanging out with your own friends who Naoya “didn’t know.”

He followed you to a couple of these outings after feeling like he was going crazy experiencing withdrawal from you. Only he didn’t find “friends.” He found you, alone at the bar, getting yourself wasted until some guy would take you home with him and leave you feeling more empty than before.

After that, Naoya decided it was his duty to intervene. He would never have betrayed Toji for you, but now that Toji was gone, he would be what you needed. His cousin would want that, someone to protect you and make you feel loved. Someone to prevent you from destroying yourself in your sadness.

So on the anniversary of Toji’s death, he came to visit you. The two of you talked in short, tension-filled sentences. He could feel the guilt dripping from your every word. It was awkward, and he didn’t try making it any easier. Soon enough, as he expected, you pulled out something to drink to soothe your nerves and make the evening tolerable. And with the liquor came your tears.

It was easy really, corralling you to his chest and rubbing your back, whispering I’ve got you over and over. Then one little prick and you were out cold against him in less than a minute.

You weren’t too happy when you woke up the next afternoon in a place you didn’t recognize. His bedroom was much nicer than your apartment. Luxury furnishings adorned the space while expensive blankets covered your sluggish form. The upgrade in surroundings did little to convince you though.

When he came in to explain to you your new circumstances, you listened quietly at first. He thought for a second that it might all go smoothly, that you would see the value in him taking care of you. But then he got to the part about becoming his wife and bearing the next generation of Zen’ins… and you didn’t seem so on board with all of that.

Now, his heart pounded in his ears as he reached the top of the stairs.

The first few months of your training had been rough, but he honestly thought he’d made great progress with you. All the fighting and yelling and crying broke you down quite a bit. The period of sleep deprivation helped as well. And of course, you’d done great for that couple weeks he’d kept you on a leash. You’d still have your bratty moments every now and then, but overall, you were doing much better now. You’d come so far and learned your place. Just sometimes, you forgot that he knew what was best for you.

And he wasn’t evil. He could be understanding. Going from your life of reckless independence to being taken care of by someone so responsible would be a big change, especially for such an emotional little thing like you. That’s why he only punished for actual disrespect.

He hoped that wasn’t what this was right now. Today was a special day. He planned to come home with open arms for you, not a raised belt. But like always, he would do what he had to.

Cautiously, he ventured through the second floor of your house back towards the bedroom. Once he was within a few feet of the door, he could hear some rustling. Finally some indication that you were still in the house. He let out a breath, but his muscles stayed taut. You could be trying to slip out the window again, prying off the nails he’d tacked through the sill.

His shaking hand landed on the door, his fingertips giving it a light push to knock it open. He braced himself, ready for the worst possible scenario. His plan wouldn’t change. Your compliance was the only variable in this situation.

He came into the bedroom and scanned around for trouble. You weren’t at the window or rummaging through his nightstand like he’d feared. You weren’t crouched at the foot of the bed, poised for an attack. Rather, he saw the closet doors open. That was where the noise was coming from.

Crossing the room, he peered between the double doors. Now his body could finally relax. He let out a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. Inside, you were there, safe and sound and not trying to escape. You were on your hands and knees, ducking beneath a shelf as if trying to find something. It seemed like you were having some trouble. Soft grunts fell from your lips and your hips wiggled as you tried to reach further. He couldn’t help noticing the way your back arched in this position along with your hips squirming. His pants felt a little tighter while watching you struggle, but he could deal with that in a few minutes. He cleared his throat to get your attention.

“There you are,” he said.

At the sound of his voice, your head shot up, knocking into the shelf above you.

“Ow,” you squeaked before pulling yourself free and sitting up. Your eyes looked up at him, wide and nervous. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He laughed at your little mishap before walking over to you and patting your head. “It’s alright,” he said, running his fingers along your scalp.

His sweet puppy. Obedient just as he’d hoped. You deserved more credit than he gave you it seemed. He couldn’t let you totally off the hook for not meeting him at the door though. That was how bad habits formed.

“Though maybe you shouldn’t start cleaning out the closet around the time I’m usually home.”

You nodded without protest before rising to your feet and tucking yourself to his side, your cheek squishing against the crisp fabric of his shirt.

“How was your day?” you asked. Your voice sounded meeker than usual, but he supposed you still feared the possibility of getting in trouble.

He wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. “It was fine. Nothing special,” he said with a shrug. He began walking you out of the closet and back into the main part of the bedroom. “What were you looking for in there?”

“Today those people came over to fit me for the wedding dress, and while I had it on, I remembered these shoes I have that would go with it. I was just trying to find them, so I could ask if you liked them,” you answered.

A perfect answer in his book. You were looking for something in regards to the wedding, and not only that, but you planned on asking him for his opinion on it. It made his heart soar.

His fingers coasted up and swept below your chin, making you look up at him. As your jaw tilted upwards, his eyes fell to your neck. More specifically, the tight piece of material wrapped around your neck.

Your collar.

Just looking at it had Naoya’s cock stirring in his pants. He valued that little strap of fabric more than the diamond ring around your finger that cost thousands. His fingertips flicked the dangling silver tag that hung at the front.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, “Are you getting excited for the wedding?”

You shrugged and gave him a small smile. While he would have preferred a resounding Yes, he would take this. It was a vast improvement from the times you’d burst into tears if he so much as uttered the words wedding or bride in your presence.

He planted a kiss on your forehead before sitting on the foot of the bed and pulling you into his lap. You sat up straight on his thigh with your shoulders back. Good. He stressed the importance of not slouching to you. It was unbecoming of someone with your beauty.

Two of his knuckles dragged down the curve of your face while his eyes studied your face for a moment.

“You know… today is a very special day,” he said, connecting his gaze with yours.

They swirled with nervousness, uncertain what kind of special today was. “It is?” you asked.

“Yeah. It is,” he confirmed. His fingers rested below your jaw while his thumb swiped back and forth across your chin. “Today’s our anniversary.”

You blinked at him for a few seconds. “But we’re not married yet…” you said and cocked your head a little.

“I know that, silly girl,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I’m not talking about our wedding anniversary. I’m talking about the anniversary of us. Of me bringing you here. The real start of your life.”

Realization dawned all across your face. “Oh,” was all you said.

“Don’t give me that,” he said with a little pinch to your jaw, “It’s a lot more important than ‘oh.’ That was the day you really became mine. My little puppy.”

He snuck his arms around you and pulled you flush against his chest, rocking back and forth with you for a few moments. The way his body swayed felt like how a child would do it with their favorite doll. His fingers traced up and down your spine.

You shut your eyes and relaxed in the embrace for a few moments. His tender attitude at the moment helped keep your thoughts quiet, which was good since the information he just gave you feelings the exact opposite of his.

While nostalgia warmed Naoya’s chest, a sense of dread permeated your body. You had been here for a whole year. An entire year of your life, wasted away while you played house between the walls of the Zen’in estate. You had honestly given up on escape after the last time when he threatened to upgrade your collar to an electric one, but the idea that you would actually be here forever didn’t feel real until right now.

Something about the one year marker ticking by made the time more than an abstract concept. The same was true of Toji’s death. Some days it felt like he was gone only a week, others you felt like the last time you laid with him was in another life.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you think of him now. It was stupid, but sometimes you worried he’d be disappointed in you for giving in. He fought his way out of this place. Now one of them had you, and you were just taking it lying down.

But you couldn’t fight back anymore. You just couldn’t. This wasn’t so bad. You told yourself that everyday as you lounged around the house or made him dinner. It could be so much worse. It’s not like Naoya kept you in a box under the bed or in some dank basement. He treated you like a wife. Sure he could be… old-fashioned to put it nicely, but you were pretty sure that, in his own twisted way, he really believed he loved you.

And the worst part about this whole thing was you were kind of sure that, in some fucked up way, you felt some sort of attachment to him too.

You’d liked Naoya as a friend before any of this happened. When he was just Toji’s little cousin. You thought he was cute. A little mouthy, but funny and sharp. He was still that way now, and when you behaved he let you see that. That was when nostalgia hits you. When he got you laughing, some part of your brain felt like you were back in the apartment, waiting for Toji to come home from the store.

And when he wasn’t in a bad mood, he could be pretty sweet. Sure the puppy stuff made you want to vomit at first but now it was kinda cute… It was just his special thing for you. That’s what you told yourself. He took care of you, and he could be loving and gentle. He could be a lot worse to you. Some of the other men around here were to their wives.

Those thoughts only brought you turmoil though. You hated yourself for getting used to him. For finding reasons to defend him to yourself. To justify his eternal presence in your life.

As much as you tried to keep it down, a sniffle broke its way out of you. You hoped he didn’t notice. He was being nice right now, and you wanted so badly to keep that going. You didn’t want this to turn into a lesson.

But unfortunately, he heard the soft sound. He narrowed his eyes and grabbed your jaw, forcing your head off his chest. His eyes looked down upon your face now, not in admiration but with inquisition.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, the words coming out with the smallest hint of accusation.

Before you could even think of a cover, you shook your head. There was no way you were gonna risk having to explain your feelings to him. Naoya wasn’t the best with that.

“No…” you replied, “I’m just… I’m so… I’m so happy.”

He continued to stare at you, though his gaze dissolved from displeased to plain confusion. You brought your hand up to hold his wrist.

“I never thought I would be so lucky to have someone like you who takes care of me and looks out for me. I just can’t believe it’s been a whole year. It just makes me think about everything,” you whispered. The low volume helped them seem more authentic. If you had to be emphatic about this, it would probably seem forced.

A gradual smile began forming on his face. “Well no wonder you’re crying. You know you and thinking don’t go well together,” he teased and pulled you back to his body.

He let out a lovesick sigh and rested his cheek against the top of your head. You released a breath too. Without his scrutiny, you could relax. His hand resumed petting up and down your back while he held you.

“My poor puppydoll… you get overwhelmed by all those big feelings in your head so easily,” he cooed, “That’s why you need me. You know I can handle it all for you.”

You nodded on instinct.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, “But I didn’t bring today up for no reason. I wanted to tell you something.”

“What is it?” you asked and wiped at your misty eyes before looking up at him again.

“Well, because today is our anniversary, I thought you deserved a gift. But you’ve been such a good girl lately, so polite and well behaved, doing everything I ask of you. It couldn’t be just anything. It had to be special,” he explained.

You tried to map out where this might be going, but you came up short. He rolled over with you, slotting you beneath him on the mattress. His elbow held him above you while his free hand came up and clicked off your collar. Your eyes widened as he pushed it aside. Today must have really been special to him.

“I was thinking and thinking and thinking, but I couldn’t come up with anything that my puppy would need. You already have so many pretty outfits. So many good pairs of shoes. All the toys you could want. I keep you so well-spoiled… so what would be a good enough present for my sweet little bride?” he asked as he ducked down to your neck, “Can you guess?”

His mouth began laying hot kisses on your throat. You shuddered under his touch. He licked at your pulse point before nipping at the skin. You know he wanted to leave a mark. That was the main reason he bothered kissing your neck at all.

When he didn’t say anything after a few seconds, you realized his question wasn’t rhetorical. He expected you to guess.

“Um… I don’t know. Are we gonna go out somewhere together?” you asked hopefully. It had been a long time since you’d seen the city. Or anywhere that wasn’t this house or the grounds of this estate.

He laughed a little against your skin, peppering the area with another series of pecks. “Good try, but no. I thought of something even better,” he breathed.

You tried to think of another guess, but you honestly had no clue what he intended to use to mark this occasion.

“I don’t know,” you acquiesced.

“That’s ok, baby. I didn’t think you’d get it. It was just cute watching you try,” he teased.

He nosed at your neck once more before pulling back and looking down at you. His hand rested on your hips, his fingers clasped around the soft flesh there.

“I was thinking that because you’ve been such a good girl for me lately, that you’re ready for me to give you the greatest gift you’ll ever receive,” he whispered, “My heir.”

Every cell in your body froze upon hearing those words. You stared at him, jaw tight and eyes unmoving. How did you not think of that? It was obvious now that he’d said it. You’d known about his desire to eventually get you pregnant since your first day here, but he’d always referred to it as some distant thing. Some event that would occur after the two of you married.

There was only a month until the wedding though, so you supposed he was on track.

“Like a baby?” you whispered back, still wishing somehow that you’d misinterpreted what he meant.

“Well obviously,” he said, “Now’s not the time for joking, puppy. I know you’re ready.”

“I…” you started, but you cut yourself short. You didn’t know how to divert him from that idea without causing a blow up. “I’m scared…” you tried.

“There’s no reason to be. You know I’ll take care of you. The whole time you’re pregnant, you’ll be spoiled even more than you are now,” he said and kissed you, this time on the mouth. His lips moved against your own at a sensual pace before he pulled back. “It’ll feel so good. It’s what this body was made for. To carry Zen’in babies.”

You didn’t know what else you could possibly say, but luckily that wasn’t a worry for long. He went back in for more kisses. His tongue worked your mouth open before slipping in and caressing your own. You moaned softly and brought your hand up to thread through his bleached tresses.

He smirked against your lips. You could feel the smug curve of it rise as he steadied himself above you. His hand kneaded your hips before his fingers hooked over the top of your bottoms and began pulling them down.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “Nao, I don’t know…” you whimpered, but he silenced you by pressing his mouth harder against you.

“There’s nothing for you to know, baby. Nothing you need to worry about. You let me make the decisions remember? Just be a good girl for me,” he mumbled.

He rolled his hips against your center, forcing your legs to spread wider in the process. You could feel his bulge against the thin cloth of your panties. He did it a couple more times, rocking the hard mound against your clothed cunt. The dull friction felt good, you couldn’t deny that. Your breath hitched and you arched against him slightly.

Despite you starting to reciprocate somewhat, he could still feel the tension in you, and he didn’t like that. Normally it wouldn’t bother him so much, but tonight was different. He wanted you desperate to carry his babies, begging for him to fuck you full of his seed. It was an honor after all. Even if you still had reservations, you would come to see that in time.

His right set of fingers delved between your thighs, lifting the elastic of your panties and cupping your pussy. He slid his middle digit between your folds. In a few seconds, the pad swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. It flicked across your little clit, drawing a whine out of you.

“You don’t understand how badly I need to breed you, precious,” he breathed.

Your legs squirmed, and you bit your lip. You tried to keep your thoughts in line. A few small strokes to your pussy wouldn’t melt you so easily.

But it wasn’t just a few small strokes.

Naoya went back to kissing your neck, working all over from your jaw to your shoulder. His finger played with you until you began leaking arousal. He ground his erection against your thigh and whimpered next to your ear.

You could try to ignore it all you wanted, but you could hear the need in his voice. He sounded like an animal in pain. His other hand gripped you with the force of one as well.

“It’s all I want in this world. To rule this clan with you at my side, full with my child,” he panted, “You’ll look beautiful. Swollen in all the right places. Your body glowing as it does what it was meant to.”

Another moan fell from your mouth as his dreams began to infiltrate your mind as well. And while you were all worked up, you could kind of see the appeal.

“It’ll feel so good for you, fulfilling your purpose. Your body will be so sensitive too. You’ll ache for me, puppy. Your body will crave me like oxygen because it’ll know I own you.”

“Naoya,” you gasped. His finger slid down to your entrance and prodded inside for a moment. He pumped it in and out. It wasn’t enough to make you cum or give you serious pleasure. But it was the perfect amount to steal the thoughts from your head and melt you beneath him.

“Good girl,” he purred, “This is what you need, baby. That silly little brain is trying to hold you back because you’ve been taught that everyone expects more of you. But I don’t. I don’t expect you to work or make decisions or do any of that hard stuff because I know that’s too complicated for my little puppy. It wouldn’t be fair to ask that of you. All I want you to do is relax and let me have control. Just be my good little girl and listen to what I tell you. And what I’m telling you is that you’re meant to be bred. That’s all you need to do, my sweet wife.”

A moment passed where nothing changed. He kept kissing you while you stayed still. But then your hands rose to his chest and started grabbing at his shirt, trying to tug it off. And he knew he had you.

“Silly girl, just a few sweet words and you fall apart so easily for me,” he muttered.

In your mind, your resolve hadn’t completely collapsed. But what he’d said didn’t sound horrible. It was definitely the best case scenario for being here. So why not enjoy your anniversary. You could worry about the consequences tomorrow.

He made quick work of his clothing and your remaining coverings. In no time, he stood nude above him while you laid exposed on the mattress.

Stroking his cock a few times, he climbed on top of you. His golden eyes drooped with lust as they focused on you. You wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to guide him where you needed him most.

“So eager to be full now, are you?” he mocked.

You nodded and looped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down on you. Most of the time, he wasn’t a fan of such clinginess while he was on top of you, but you were behaving better than he expected. He could let it slide just this once. It was your anniversary after all.

He lined up with your hole and nudged the tip against you teasingly.

“Naoya,” you whined, tightening your legs around him.

“This is what I get for spoiling you, huh? A whiny pup,” he murmured and pecked your cheek as he sheathed himself inside you.

Your walls locked around him, squeezing and fluttering at the pleasure that came with the first thrust. His breath came out a little shaky as he adjusted to the feeling of you around him. He shut his eyes for a moment, just feeling the warmth of your tight embrace.

“Your pussy’s begging for it,” he said as he dragged his hips back. He then pushed into you again.

Another long stroke followed the first, and then another after that. He set himself into a steady rhythm, rocking his hips back and forth. You mewled and clutched at his shoulders.

“It just feels so good,” you whimpered.

His grip became stronger on you too. He held you close to his body, ensured you couldn’t run or squirm away from him in the slightest. His pelvis continued to piston against you. The faint sound of skin clapping on skin filled the bedroom along with your combined sounds of ecstasy.

Every time he bottomed out, his silky tip bumped against some sweet spot. You cried out with almost everyone. Your eyes rolled back, blissed out from the continuous stimulation.

“That’s it. Just take it,” he huffed, nestling his face against your neck. You could feel his hot breath steaming against your skin.

Arousal continued to gush from you around his cock. Your slick smeared against your skin and coated the patch of dark hair at the base of his dick.

“Nao… deeper, please,” you whined.

He sighed and obliged your request, slamming into you as hard as he could. Your head board knocked against the wall.

“There you go,” he grunted, “Nice and deep. Gotta get it all the way in so it will take.”

You felt so good that hearing that didn’t even bother you. If anything, it dragged you closer to the edge.

“Gonna- ah! Gonna…” you tried to tell him.

“Just think about it. If I knock you up tonight, you’ll be pregnant during our wedding,” he said. He rolled his hips against you at a slower pace that still reached just as deep. “You’re supposed to wait till the wedding night to try, but no one would know. It’d be our little secret. My gorgeous bride, bred and beautiful just for me.”

Your hips bucked eagerly, out of your control. A pitchy whine left you, audible proof of your desperation.

“That’s it, puppy. Cum for me,” he crooned, “Cum for me so I can pump you full and put a baby in your belly.”

You cried out and locked your limbs around his body. Your muscles all quivered as release crashed into you. It hit you like a bomb going off. Your eyes screwed shut while your jaw clenched. Strangled moans still made their way out though.

He groaned right beside your ear. The pulsing of your cunt only grew more rapid around his length. It massaged him just how he needed to reach the finish line. He kept working himself in and out right until he felt that peak. Then he slid in all the way and let his body go lax on you, trembling with the pleasure of his orgasm.

You held him while his cum spilled inside of you, and afterwards the both of you remained attached. Your hearts pounded against each other where your chests met, rising and falling with labored breaths. His fingers lazily pet your head, trailing down to your shoulder to trace little patterns there.

Eventually, he pulled out and rolled off of you. His hand came to rest on your lower stomach without a word. He held it there for a few moments before rising onto his elbow and giving you a kiss.

“My perfect bride-to-be,” he whispered, the tip of his nose nearly touching yours, “I think whatever you had in the oven has long burnt by now.”

The tone in which he said the words had you thinking for a few seconds they were just some sweet nothings you didn’t understand. But upon taking a deeper breath and smelling the air, you realized he was right. The food you’d put in the oven before he’d come home was probably burnt to a crisp at this point.

“Sorry,” you said, instantly sitting up to go and correct your mistake.

But with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he ushered you back down against the mattress.

“I’ll have the servants bring us something better and clean it up,” he said and nuzzled your cheek, “What do I always say? I’ll take care of you. Even your little mistakes.”

You nodded and relaxed again. Your eyes drifted down to your stomach, the location of your possible future greatest mistake. Despite everything that had just transpired, you hoped it wouldn’t take.

“Oh I almost forgot,” he said, breaking you from your thoughts. His hand came up to your throat, your collar between his fingers. He grinned as he fastened it back into place. “There we go. It would be wrong of me to leave my pup without her collar.”

He flicked the dangling tag once more before laying beside you again.

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin smut #naoya zenin x you #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #ch: naoya zenin 💌#naoya x reader #naoya x you

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sweetsuburbanlegends · 3 months ago

Text

The Band Played On

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 8.5k

Summary: You'd never met someone who loved the way Joel Miller did.

Warnings: talk of death of a spouse and child, age gap (less than ten years), brief suicidal thoughts, mentions of depression, yEaRnInG, author is very sensitive pls be nice, i was listening to the song of the same name by Guy Lombardo,

A/N: She's back baby! This one has been in the works for over a year (eep), and is basically just a love letter to @mirrormauve and I'm so glad she's back now and I've finally finished it. Becs, I love you with all my heart <3.

I don't own photos, dividers, or characters.

You’d never met someone who loved the way Joel Miller did.

His severe, violent dedication to it, bits of soul laid down on the ground as offerings to the gods. Cracking open his chest, tearing off each rib and handing it over, not to say here is my heart but to say, here is the thing that protects my heart, it reminds me of you.

You thought this love was only talked about, only dreamt up.

But then you’d been on a walk, in the early spring with the Earth vibrating with promise and you’d seen Joel, the worn, well-loved brown of his leather jacket, greying, long strands of his hair brushing against its collar, and you’d seen Joel, beside a tree, wrapping rope around its broken limp, saying soft things under his breath. You’ll be alright, yeah. That’s okay, I’ll be back soon, his voice heavy and measured with his drawl, warm. His fingers drifting over new buds, still tightly curled like a clenched fist, and cooing out his pride like a lullaby.

Joel loved fiercely, savage and primal. There was nothing beautiful about the way he did it, but it was simple, it was honest and true and gentle. It was his work-roughened hands catching against fabric, his prickly stubble against his niece’s soft skin, the smell of whiskey on his breath and leather on his skin.

His love wasn’t that of the ocean to the shore, the sun to the moon, the moon to the ocean. A tiring push and pull, illusive and fickle.

He loved the way the soil loved the roots, giving over chunks of himself for nourishment and food.

He loved the way the roots loved the soil, wooden fingers clutching tight against dirt and turning it dewy and tender with love. Constant, reliable, never changing. A tried and true dance that would continue to the end of time.

He drew you to him unknowingly. Unravelled your affection for him like a ball of yarn, stringing it around everywhere he went, lighting up street corners and houses the way lamplighters used to do each evening in a world before you, Joel, and the slow thing he was knitting inside of you, row after patient row.

Your eyes followed him like a magnet to the North, unknowingly, intrinsically, like breathing, drinking water. You found grooves and corners in Joel Miller that you revelled in, that you painted up inside your mind and took home with you to hang on your empty walls.

The way he holds his spoon, wipes his mouth. The gnarled knots of his fingers’ joints. The rose-like curling of the skin around his eyes and mouth when he laughs, the way he touches and does so deliberately with intent and purpose.

You walk by his house in the evenings, catching the glint of his eyes from the yellow porch light as he strums his guitar, the one he pieced together the way he did that tree. Ellie running home at all hours of the day, the trust held between them branching out towards Jackson like coconut, the aroma subtle, blink and you’ll miss it. But it hangs in the air like humidity, like frost on window panes or the fog of your breath against glass during the harsh Wyoming winters.

You crave more, you’re starving for it. You want Joel’s love, and you want it because you’re selfish, because you don’t like the empty half of your bed, and you think he’d look nice in it, his golden skin and grey hair against floral sheets. You long more than anything to be part of the souls he holds up to the light and plops into his pocket like a marble collection.

Whenever you are where Joel is, you look at him, fleeting glances in his direction like a heartbeat, over and over, rhythmic and regular. You’re eager to see more of him, to see him when he doesn’t know you’re watching so you can trace the curve of his neck with your eyes and pretend it’s your hands instead, to feel the soft hairs that grow there like peach fuzz.

Joel loves in spades, in heaping bucketfuls of it. It strains throughout Jackson like a liquid heavier than water, curling around each corner in a warm embrace. You can’t go anywhere without being faced by it, the door hinge he’d fixed, the chairs he’d stacked, the floors he’d swept. The love he’s spread around soaking into your shoes and through your socks, drifting up towards your ankles and making your bones ache.

It’s hard to deal with it. Its constant, uncompromising presence. The true reality of the man that he was, is.

It’s even harder to deal with your craving for it, the way your skin sings for it, the way your lungs chase each trace of it they find in the air.

Maria finds you one day in the gardens, asks, gently hesitant, for you to come over for dinner. You wonder if it was out of concern or pity for the life you lead alone, the simple, yet tried and true routine you occupy your days with.

Worse than that, you begin to fear that she’s picked up on the fascination you’ve grown for her brother-in-law and the way his worn belt sits on his hips.

And so to not aggravate it anymore, you agree to spend an evening close to Joel.

Not alone with him, Tommy and Maria are at the table as well, Ellie coming and going, breaking conversation into brittle pieces of Sohan, but still you’re close and he gives you a brief taste of what sharing love with him could look like.

His voice is rumbly and deep, river-like as it streams and trips over smooth rocks. The whiskey has loosened him up a bit, the straight, hard edges of his body softening over with comfort, the weight of survival lifted off of him.

He’s pretty. You want him to reach inside of you and grab your heart, start pumping it for you and press his mouth against yours so you can share air together.

It’s hard to focus around him, your eyes not wanting to work in tandem whenever they look in his direction, as if protecting you from what might happen if you manage to see him clearly, his peppering of a beard and moustache, the engravings of smile lines on his face.

To abate the beating inside your chest, you get up for some water, go to refill Maria’s glass while you’re at it. Out of fear of the emotions he’s drawing out of you and your chest.

You want to calm down, be normal about him and this growing obsession inside of you for an older man. Yet your body and mind refuse to do so vehemently, almost to seek vengeance on you for wanting to quell it, pour water over the burning fire.

As you stand at the counter, waiting for the water to boil and tracing the top button of your jeans round and round with the pad of your finger, you hear Joel and his lopsided walk follow you, his left foot dragging more than his right.

“Hey.”

The word falls at the end of itself, stretches against the ground. You follow the trails it leaves in the air, like citrus oil that sparks out of a freshly-peeled orange, bursting out like dust motes in a vibrant sunbeam.

“Hi,” you turn around, smile at him as best as you can through the tangling of your lungs and stomach.

Joel looks over his shoulder, back at Tommy and Maria, at Ellie, nudged into her uncle’s side, then he turns to you, “Nice evening.”

You agree with him, though to yourself you think it’s only because of him, because of the cloud that hangs humid about him, makes the edges of his body go soft and blurry, grainy like all photos are, incapable of catching the true essence of what made them photo-worthy.

He comes and leans against the counter beside you, hands folded on top of each other. A lock of his hair falls into his forehead and you think if he’d let it, you’d brush it away and go straight to the graveyard so you could die happy, dragging your stone along with you like a blanket.

It takes everything inside of you to not inch closer to him.

Despite the community and support that surrounds you everyday, you’re still lonely, still aching for something else. Something to come home to. To be something for someone to come home to.

You have faint visions of Joel in the doorway of your house, revel in the way he’d drape his jacket over the couch. You want to see him basked in the glow of an early morning, to see his sleep-rumpled shirt and press your face into it and take in greedy lungfuls of his smell.

Ellie’s laugh rings out around the room. You think of the future she was going to have and the one she will have now, and you’re glad that she’s in Jackson away from the dark holes that are the QZs.

You gaze up at Joel, at the cords rising in his neck like bread dough. Some depraved sprout shoots up inside you and longs to trace your nose against them and their engravings on his skin. You force yourself to look away, down at the glass of water in your hand.

You ache to move your feet forward and away from him, for the betterment of the both of you and the cage you keep around your chest, the key of which you want to press into Joel’s hands.

“You should come by more often.”

He talks to you the same way he talked to the sapling. You wonder if he would rope you up the same way if you broke your arm too, in the same way. It sows dreams inside of you and you rub them away a couple seconds later, thinking of Maria’s sudden invitation asking you over tonight.

“Thanks,” you murmur it. You’re not going to give him a rebuttal about being a bother so you won’t fall into the push and pull dance with him.

To your surprise, he straightens up, ducks his head until you look up at him. “M’serious, honey. Really,” you see his hand reach forward before it falls back to place. It flinches and fidgets before it returns to normal. Here all the hair on his skin is grey. “We’ll do this more.” The condition has dropped from his voice.

Despite your suspicions and reluctance, a bruised, battered thing weeps out inside of you, stops you from turning down his offer again, after he’s pressed it with you. It sits smooth and heavy in the palm of your hand, you run your thumb over it, pretend to mull it over.

“Well, how about it? Me ‘n Ellie do board games a night each week, you should come,” There’s a swing to his voice, a soft gravel in it. If you could bask in it you’d never leave.

He chuckles at your lack of response, “Now don’t you be tellin’ me you don’t like to play at cards.”

Finally, you collect yourself enough to shake your head, laugh a little though it’s hard when your lungs are turning themselves inside out at the thought that Joel Miller has invited you to spend more time with him, that he’s deemed you worthy of it.

Tonight, you play Dutch Blitz. They’re not real Dutch Blitz cards, but with the mixing of yours and his decks, the picture cards tossed aside, there’s enough to play with.

Joel brings you hot water with some whiskey slipped in, his hand resting deliberately on top of yours when he gives it to you. He sits opposite you, Ellie at the head, his owl mug beside him, close enough that you long to trace with your fingers, follow the curves and valleys of it, and wonder if you can get it to talk to you the same way Joel talks to trees, close enough that you can see the splattering of spots ceramics often have.

When he takes a drink, you have to look away from him and the wave-like motion of his throat for fear of doing something stupid and falling in love.

He’s terrible at the game.

After the first couple of rounds, he’d said it was because he didn’t have his glasses and went into the living room to rummage around for them. You could hear his voice sometimes, filtering in back to his kitchen. Not there, some rustling, a drawer being closed, no, I’m sure I ain’t left’em here. His voice is grumbly with aggravation and it makes you and Ellie giggle.

It had been a long time since you’d laughed like that. Light and childish. The boulder of your personhood lifted off.

When he does find them, he places them on the edge of his nose, but they don’t help him at all. With the sudden addition of a third player, the flick and slam of cards on the table, quickly adding up to a cap, it’s hard for him to focus. Ellie says that though he never does win, he doesn’t lose so abysmally either when she plays him one-on-one.

He murmurs to himself when he’s playing, like the gentle hum of a honeybee and it distracts you as well, giving Ellie yet another set of wins under her belt.

“Face it, Joel,” she’s grinning now, shuffling up her hand of cards. “You’re fucking horrible at this.”

He huffs, “You’re not giving me a fair fightin’ chance, that’s what.” The slope of his neck is just the right angle. He gathers his cards up, does an expert riffle shuffle. “And what’s more I ain’t playin’ no more. Go grab somethin’ else.”

You’re surprised at how easily Ellie gives into him now, teasing only slightly before she goes away, back to the closet where Joel stores the board games he’s managed to piece together over the years. Monopoly, The Game of Life, Scrabble. There are Jenga blocks as well, ones he’s made himself, and that he’s sanded away at patiently, night after night on his porch.

It’s your favourite game to play with him, Jenga. It’s tense, but quiet and calm. It gives you time to study his face intently, shade in the scar on his nose and the subtle way he favours the right edge of his mouth to his left when he’s talking. You like it even more because it means you can touch things his hands have touched, the ones he’s worked at patiently, each one a labour of love.

Even kids come over to his house now, particularly during the summer, and play in his backyard with his Jenga blocks, Joel’s place an extension of the worlds they play in, the juniper trees at the edge perfect for games of hide-and-seek and tag.

“She’s right,” he sighs, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I am horrible at this.”

With his glasses in his hand he gestures to the cards. The action pulls at your liver, you may as well have drunk a whole bottle of whiskey.

“Nonsense,” there’s a strange tendril of confidence wrapping around your throat, drawing out words before you knew what they were. “It’s a hard game. Fast-paced.”

He laughs to himself, softly. It sounds like molasses, deep and rich and velvety. “That’s just a fancy way of calling me old, darlin’.”

“I don’t mind,” the words surprise you, the emotion and conviction behind them and you drop them as soon as you can.

“You don’t mind what?”

Looking down at your hands, “That you’re old.” You don’t like how you’re bringing attention to it and meekly, you string behind it, “If it matters any.”

Silence hangs around you, presses hard against your chest and breaks a rib.

“Thanks, sweetheart. It matters much…more’n you could know.”

A being lies behind his words, unknown and ominous. You don’t want to touch it, break the beehive and let the honey pour onto the grass, the bees angry and furious ready to sting.

You offer instead to wash the dishes to be able to touch his special mug, finally trace the curve of the owl’s body, embroidered into baked clay. You wonder where Joel found this mug. If it came with the house, how it morphed into his favourite one, if it was a certain thing, from first sight, or if it was a slow and steady climb.

Ellie comes back a few moments later, the Jenga blocks in her hands. You feel his eyes against your back and you hold your hands under the hot water until they’re irritated and sensitive.

Joel shows up at your door unannounced. In his hands is a bowl of strawberries, his fingers stained red from picking up, that soft gentle smile on his face.

“Howdy,” He invites himself in, says the words for you and hands over the bowl. “For you.”

You think about jam and honey, imagine the feel of granulated sugar clicking under your teeth.

It’s the late afternoon, a lazy sun stretching into your open window, highlighting dust motes in the air in a stream of light. You place the strawberries on the table, Joel takes one and pops it in his mouth, the hinge of his jaw moving up and down as he chews.

Laughing, he tells you quietly, “They’re supposed to be for you, I had a stomachful pickin’em.”

Something twists and knots inside of you at the thought of Joel in the gardens, bending down beside the strawberry plants, choosing fruit for you and bringing it to your door. You wonder if he talked to them the way he seems to do anything, whether or not it can respond to him.

“They’re good,” he pushes them towards you. “Have some.”

The berries are a ruby red, vibrant with survival. They press against you as you roll their tiny bodies between your fingers, your nail catching on the seeds pressed into the skins. Biting down into one, you find it intimate to know that you and Joel are tasting the same flavour, tart and sweet, that he has a belly filled with this, that he’d filled his belly behind the soft of his waistline because he was picking you a gift.

It’s hard to tear your eyes from him, from where he’s looking at you. The sun kisses his shoulder, curls up and around his ear. The strange need you have for him grows and reaches its peak, overwhelming you. You wonder what the soft behind his ear will feel like if you took his with your teeth and soothed the bite over with your tongue, what his hair will smell like.

You want to ask him, demand him, to kiss you. To press you against the strawberries and not let you go until you’re covered in red juice.

“Thank you for these,” you say instead, get up to put on some hot water.

“‘Course, honey.”

You think that Joel may consider you a friend. His friend.

You like the possession that lies inside the words. The heady things they imply, how they hold your heart in a clenched fist and promise to never let go.

The other night, he’d invited you over for dinner. Just you. Had been clear about it as well. Ellie’s at Dina’s, Tommy and Maria have date night together. Like he could read your mind and knew the riptides you were apt to fall into if you weren’t careful.

He’d talked to you, low and soft like he always does. Whiskey had been poured into your coffee and the sunset had lit up the sky in much the same manner as his voice, muted and tender, the air tinted golden like saffron.

You think that that was the night you realised you couldn’t run from it anymore, had fallen, arms extended but helpless in catching you, towards him and how the sole of his left shoe is smoother than his right.

The strawberries spark conversation in him about the upcoming harvest, and he analyses the weather with severity, concerned about the apples and squashes if it were to stay the way it was. You pour two cups of hot water, wishing you could give him something he likes more than that, whiskey or wine, and think of what you could trade to get a bottle for your kitchen.

“...don’t know how we’ll make it through the winter at this rate.”

Steam curls up from your cup, the heat of the summer day already fading with the sunlight.

“We’ll make it, one way or the other,” you say. His worries are endearing, parts and pieces of him that you think he’ll never learn to let go of, not even if there was fresh fruit on the table, hot water in the pipes.

Joel from before.

He fascinates you, in every form you think of him.

With your words, you see something in his eyes, something young and untamed. You think he’s going to press it with you, show you why the amount of rain and sun the settlement’s been getting will be its exact downfall. But it dies down, calms back into the soft burnt toffee you know them to be, and the ever-present smiling not-smile returns to his face.

Finally, he nods his head towards the strawberries and winks at you. You start eating them again, trying to paint up images of him in the gardens, of the strawberries looking even smaller beside his hands. His voice, mellowed and soft, Yeah, yeah, you’re good, that’s alright now, okay?

Joel’s hand brushes against yours as you reach in for another one, lighting a match against your skin, flames bursting up and down your body. He doesn’t seem to give it much mind, his unshakable calm draped against him like always.

With a chuckle, he looks down at the one in his hand, “My mama used to make these inta jams.” He eats it, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. Your body pulls at itself and you take one for yourself as well, flavour oozing out into your mouth, tasting like love because you’re sharing it with him.

“Loved’em with a fresh biscuit,” pausing, he breaks out of his memories to look at you. “You ever had jam ‘n biscuits?”

“Sure, sometimes.”

He tilts his head, “Homemade ones?” You shake your head and he waves you off in response, “Oh, then you hadn’t had jam ‘n biscuits. Lemme tell ya, my mama made’em mean. Nothin’ like a hot jar of strawberry jam.”

Eyes going a little misty he keeps on, “Now, Tommy?” he laughs soft and low, mainly to himself, shakes his head some more. “Tommy he’d scarf’em down the moment they were outta the oven, boy’s got no patience. Couldn’t even wait to take out the jam and then he’d-” the words had been pouring out of his mouth like honey, soothing to your ears but he cuts them off abruptly, “-Ah, would you look at that. I’m borin’ yer head off.”

It sounds like he is getting ready to leave, his eyes flicking around, on the table, back to you, to the strawberries. You rush forward without thinking about it to get him to stay, “No, no. I-I like talking with you…s’nice.” You finish with a helpless little shrug.

You don’t know where this sudden confidence has come from and you’re scared you’ve gripped too tight on the bar of soap and Joel will slip out of your grasp and into the sink, that you have to scramble to take it back. To your surprise, you haven’t.

The discomfort starts to fade away from Joel’s face and you fear what’s going to be put in its place and how similar it might be to what you hold in the farthest corner of your heart, closely guarded away from him. He melts down back into his seat, eats a strawberry.

If you look closely, the greyer hairs in his moustache are stained red.

“Well, there ya have it,” he chuckles, deep and warm. “The story of my mama’s biscuits.”

“Lovely.”

It stands in front of you, a bunny rabbit of a story, her nose twitching, ears flicking back and forth and incredibly small. You remember the first baby rabbit you ever saw, when you were sixteen over thirty years ago. You hadn’t thought something could be so tiny and also be able to move. It had scampered away the moment it caught sight of you, the bushes bristling into silence in its wake, but behind it one of your lungs and one of your kidneys followed dutifully, leaving you alive but just barely.

Right now, you cup Joel’s story in your palm, tuck it away in some safe pocket and delight each time you brush against it, a knotted ball of heat and innocence.

Gaze still fixed on the button-like eyes in front of you, you get surprised when he moves to sit in the chair at your side. His shoulders are broad and mighty still, and you have to look just slightly up to be able to see him fully.

You see him struggle with his words. Maybe he always does, and you’ve never been this close enough to see it, thoughts breaking on the shore of his mouth, the twitch around his nose, the ever changing colour of his eyes not even quivering still for a moment.

“You’re-” he clears his throat, it rumbles gently like an earthquake from your feet to your head, shaking your heart in the middle, reminding you of the ache inside it. “You’ve been lonely here…in Jackson.”

There’s not much to say, and you shrug, “I’m alive.”

“Not what I said.”

It stings through you, sharp with truth and a keen observation. You’d thought you’d manage to hide it well, that people had bigger problems than to worry about you, and the emotions running in you that you’ve forgotten what they are and how they’re supposed to feel like. You don’t know what to say, looking down at your hands, starting digging into your cuticles for something to do with them.

He hums softly, and on instinct you turn your gaze to him, watching his front profile bent forward. “These years…they’ve been hard,” he almost hears your thoughts. “On us all.”

You think of your husband. The one who’d married you young, though you’d felt like you were anything but at the time, and cradled your heart gently and coaxed you out of moods as if it was the only thing he was made for and wanted to do. He doesn’t come to your mind often anymore, having lost him several years before the world blew up. Together, you’d lived a quiet life. Defined by soothing, soft sunlight and lazy afternoons.

Truly, you’ve felt lonely your whole life. It didn’t really start twenty years ago, or two years ago when you arrived in Jackson. Had been a quiet and almost ignored child. There’s not much you remember from your childhood, but the knoll of a memory rings true every time. Standing in line for a whole afternoon, a worksheet grasped in your sweaty palms, feeling that soon, soon, you’d be rewarded for listening, for being quiet.

How interminable that afternoon had seemed to you, long and drawn out, testing your patience at each turn, and how you’d risen up to each defiantly, child-like sense of justice still strong and unfailable.

You learnt your lesson too late, when your soul and essence had already hardened into unchangeable patterns. So, you got used to getting hurt, tears springing at your eyes and burning through your lungs.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t always like this.” The corners of Joel’s eyes crinkle, fold up into themselves like fabric. He chuckles softly and you feel your face press into a smile. “I was real angry…and mean. People wouldn’t come within a square mile of me if they could help it.”

His eyes glisten when he hears you laugh, and he holds up his hands, “I ain’t lyin’, I swear. Ask anyone you want, I was the town grump, yellin’ at kids to get off my lawn.” The words make you laugh even more, hiding it behind your hand and maybe the energy sparks in the air, because Joel starts to laugh too. A deep, gentle, belly laugh that seems to have come from another world. Of soft grey hair and tender eyes. It’s hard to imagine Joel as mean, a grump.

The perpetuity of time weighs down on you heavily. How separated you feel from yourself at sixteen, twenty, thirty. The decades rolling past you like boulders. It scares you that you and Joel remember a world, a life, that doesn’t exist anymore and soon the two of you will be gone, the memories falling off into the air like they’ve done for generation upon generation.

You wonder how so little time, in the grand scheme of things, can feel so long and tiresome. How you’re not even fifty yet and still, the thought of having to fall asleep and wake up the next day to do it all again exhausts you to the point of tears. The thought of having to do this for one more day even seems impossible, leave alone for years.

When you were younger, and you’d first started feeling like this, you’d thought it would pass when you got married, when you got older. When the world fell apart you’d thought you would snap out of it, yet it never happened. The only time you’d felt happy waking up was from nightmares, panting and struggling to orient yourself.

It had been better since you arrived at Jackson, found some semblance of routine and stability that you’d craved since you were a child.

Joel sighs, drawing you out of your thoughts, and focusing you in again to see him rub at his beard, the movement tugging at the insides of you. “Don’t know why I’m telling you this really,” he lets out a quiet breath, and it washes over you, ocean-like. “I-I…” He swallows thickly, and you’re alarmed to see him gather himself as if to move to go. “Been botherin’ you really-”

You cut him off by saying his name. It tolls inside you, flashes of hospitals and the dark green carpet of the funeral home coming to the forefront of your mind.

You think about your husband's eyes, the soft slope of them, so similar and yet so different to Joel’s. You wonder if Joel would have liked him, if in another world the two of them would drink beer together and play poker, while you complained about them to friends you’ve never truly, properly had.

The image is domestic, tugs at you and you know soon you’re going to cry if you’re not careful. You start talking, how the two of you had met, the sudden and then slow fall.

The ache in you grows and grows, till it’s fit to burst. Talking about him to Joel feels like emptying out an abscess, makes you feel both guilty and relieved.

He talks in turn. Of a daughter. The pulsing, too-hot blood covering his forearms and screaming until he’d lost his voice and spat red for a week later. Hot, bright flashes of anger that never truly went away.

You wonder if that’s what had drawn you to Joel in the first place, that gaping, weeping hole inside of him that reflected so tenderly back into your stomach. He laughs a couple of times, telling you about Ellie. Then he cries and despite everything, you envy him for how he does it so rightfully, well-timed.

You can’t remember a time you’d talked so much. The sun sets over his back, beside his ear.

There’s a fatigue in your bone marrow, a deep, strong ache that ripples through your back and muscles. Joel looks a different person to you know, the ghost of a girl standing behind him, her hand placed on his forearm, gentle features in her face ringing true to her father’s and that of a woman you don’t know. You’re seized with the urge to turn back time, to see if you would have found Joel in the old world just like you have this one. If you would have liked his daughter, found companionship in her the way you do with all women.

Joel smiles at you, eyes glistening, murmuring something about the time. The day comes back to you at once, and you feel you’ve taken a breath after hours of holding it in. You wonder at the way Joel’s drawn all this out of you, patient and with no rush at all. How he’d deemed you worthy of time and attention.

You walk with him to your front door, feeling as if it was years since he’d shown up at it, bowl in hand.

“Hey, honey?” The back of Joel’s shirt is wrinkled from the way he was sitting at your table. He turns back to you, the sun fully set now.

You have a strange need to offer to walk him home. Then you hope he’d offer to walk you home and you’d do the same and then you could spend the rest of your life walking with him home.

“Yeah?”

The pull he has terrifies you. There’s a subconscious ache in your muscles to be closer to him, to right what seems to have been wronged.

He does it for you, takes a step away from the door and barely a few breaths of space between you. From here, you can see the sunspots in his beard, flecked onto tanned and weathered skin and you think about a time when Joel was so young he didn’t have a beard.

“There’s a-uh…ah, ” he goes gravelly and clears his throat, running a hand up and down his beard comfortingly. Something inside him renews and the insecurity falls away, it’s fascinating and addicting to watch. You’re sure there isn’t a more interesting person on the Earth. “You wanna come with me? To the dance next week?”

You swallow and it does nothing to help the feeling inside you that you’re being torn into two. “Oh, Joel I…” you fumble for an excuse out of all the well-used and well-rehearsed ones you have. “I-uh…I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Hell,” he laughs, and his eyes go to the size of slivered almonds. “Neither am I. But they play some fancy records. I go for the music.”

“What kind?”

You’re not going to go, you’re certain of this, already feeling like you’ve imposed far too much on him, but this is another part of Joel, the music he listens to each week at the community dance. There’s no harm in taking it for yourself.

“Real old stuff,” his eyes twinkle. “You think me old? Wait ‘til ya hear it, it’s stuff my grandparents listened to growin’ up.” A beat, something drops in his tone, “M’serious.” He sounds nervous even, “I want you to go with me.”

You don’t know how to tell Joel this is the first time someone’s asked you out in a long, long, while. If ever. Your husband was the only man who ever loved you and he’d always been there. Had proposed to you in the low light of his kitchen, matter-of-fact sort of, I suppose we should get married.

You don’t know how much of your story Joel’s gratuitously, much to the contradiction of your character, filled in. You want to have led the life he’s envisioned for you, so kindly and tenderly, eating strawberries at your kitchen table, rather than the cold, lonely one you’ve led instead.

Through the sudden twisting and turning inside you, a cold pang stops it at your foolishness to assume that this is what you’d thought it was. That you’d taken the opaque words and read through them, leading yourself astray and susceptible to getting hurt.

“Darlin’? Makes me real nervous when you take so long to answer questions like this,” he coos softly, you think again of the way he talks to everything, as if he can see through it to the marrow and essence, trace it with his finger. You see his hand twitch and this time he does touch you, holding onto your forearm, a soft fire burning on your skin. “What’s wrong, hm?”

“I don’t know how to dance, Joel,” you say finally. You feel and see yourself leaning close to his touch, the warmth of his body spilling into your own, but you’re helpless to stop it. You want to feel his chest on your bare back, the prickle of his beard against your skin, roughened palms against your stomach. So much roughness pressing on you with love.

He lets out a tender breath, as if to say, that’s all? “Well, I’ll teach ya if ya want. And if not, we’ll have a drink and listen to some Guy Lombardo, alright?”

You know you should protest again, keep pushing it with him until he drops the act, keeps this where it ought to remain. But your yearning for him is overwhelming and tiring to fight against, “Alright.”

“Alright?” His thumb brushes back and forth against your skin. You look up at him and you fear that now there’s no hiding from him anymore, behind quiet and excuses. You feel his eyes hit the back of your lungs. “Alright, honey,” he smiles at you, his skin folding up like intricate origami, stealing your breath away at seeing it up so close.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” he murmurs. Then he’s leaning down towards you to kiss your cheek. A rough brush of slightly chapped lips before he’s straightened up and the door clicking shut behind him, a trail of blood following him from where your chest is, gaping empty, your heart trudging along unknowingly behind him and his broad shoulders like slug.

For two years you fought against it, pushing it aside as it continued to grow like an untamed weed, growing a strong, unbreakable net of roots only for you to lose all of it in close to five minutes, to show you how fragile and fallible you were when it came to Joel Miller.

The community centre in Jackson is one of the only buildings left nearly intact. The floors were still original wood, and creaked and groaned with each step. With the fall of summer, the harvest close to over, the nights were coming earlier, quicker, and colder. As you walk towards the building, the lights glow from the windows flickering some strange sense of nostalgia in you, twinging at a corner you’d thought was long gone inside your heart.

Joel is standing at the entryway, hair brushed back in a way that, in the fickle light, almost makes him unrecognizable. You’ve never seen him like this, not just his hair, but his appearance. Your heart stutters when it sees itself reflected, nervous and trembling in Joel’s face. The thought of him making himself all pretty-like for you in the glow of his bathroom makes you feel faint, makes you feel young in a way you don’t ever remember feeling. That maybe, the thought of you has him nervous and stumbling and anxious, how you so often feel around him.

“Hey, honey.”

You stammer a little smile, say you hope you hadn’t kept him too long. A record scratch comes from inside and the soft drone of trumpets and crooning filters out to the two of you like fairy dust.

Putting his hand on the small of your back, Joel leads you inside.

True to his word, he doesn’t do any dancing. You’re not sure if you can handle such close proximity to him, feeling the gentle wash of his breath, to breathe him in so deeply the push outwards strains your lungs without the promise of being able to do it again whenever you want to.

He gets you two a drink and sways with you, arm around your shoulders, talking in soothing tones that rival the one he uses with his niece. When he pretends to not notice you looking, you gaze at him, his profile glowing in the lights of the hall, the wrinkles in his face like those of a tree trunk.

You’d been nervous to be seen out like this with Joel, worried to hear rumours fly and nervous that your reaction to them would give away inner corners of your heart that you don’t even dare graze in the safety of the early morning darkness, alone, in your own bed and house. Even more, you didn’t want him hearing them, the malicious tongues of Jackson picking you apart any more than they already had had.

Yet to your surprise, people only smile at you, ask you to join them at the Tipsy Bison, Joel agreeing readily for you as you struggle to find the words.

You and Joel, it seems, are no great news.

You wonder how much time has been wasted just because of your broken mind, thoughts from your childhood running through it constantly chiming truth-like when they were only supposed to light laughing matters now.

The weight of Joel’s hand grows suddenly, and it drops onto your chest. The subtle, comforting smell of wood turns stifling, dust floating up and stinging your eyes. With a quiet word, you slip out from under Joel’s arm as he’s talking to Tommy, head back outside and start taking greedy gulps of air.

The normalcy of it, the quiet indifference and accepting looks around you had taken you aghast. At how quickly you’d lost the rules you’d set in place for when you were around Joel. At how quickly you’d managed to fool yourself into thinking that you could do this, be normal and sound, at how you’d tricked Joel into thinking the same and now it felt that everything was suspended in the balance.

The whole unworthiness of it. How you’d managed to outsmart the world time and time again into staying alive for whole decades after you’d thought you would, and how you couldn’t do the same for your husband, a man so worthy of life compared to you. How he’d worked at you patiently, tenderly. Made you believe, for brief, fleeting moments that maybe you were wrong, that you can think wrong thoughts and yet there was nothing wrong with that, and that nobody had been tricked and everyone was deserving.

And how quickly that had all been torn away from you in a torturous six months.

Some days, you feel you’ve gotten better, the tug of black tar lighter, only to drown even worse the next.

He’d been the only person ever to convince you otherwise. And he’d been wrong.

Until now.

The back porch creaks softly under Joel’s shoes, and by now you’ve given up wondering why you can recognize the way the world around him reacts to his presence. You turn to face him, to see the angel-like glow around his silhouette for the half-instant it’s there.

You look down quickly at your feet, hoping it hides the sudden heat rising to your face and calms it down.

In so many ways, you feel older than you are, ready to lay down in the ground and surrender to the dirt and grass, and in others you still feel like a child, helpless and naive. Joel shouldn’t be finding you out here, staring into the night for answers you know won’t be there.

“There ya are,” you’ve never heard his voice this way before, the many nuances and inflections that you’ve studied like a religion.

Your shame is so great you can’t even bring yourself to apologize, an annoying habit your mother always lashed out at you for, your apparent insolence and indifference.

There’s the same shuffling step of his, the left favoured over the right. There’s a loud round of laughter from inside and you flinch at it as Joel comes to stand beside you.

“Needed some air?”

If you could, you would crawl into his chest, burrow down there so he’d lull you to sleep with the rumble of his voice. Though he’s only inches from you, he feels much farther away.

You nod quietly and you wonder how you can tell Joel that the outbreak hadn’t made you like this, that Jackson had brought it out of you again after years of a toughened, fraud outside you’d held to yourself protectively like a blanket. That there wasn’t anything more to peel away, and you couldn’t be fixed with rope or soft words like the plants he loves and the wood he whittles away into gifts.

“Joel…” you lick your lips, bite down on the inside of your cheek until you bleed. His name feels right, shaped out of your voice, and you marvel at how well-trained your mind is, after almost fifty years of feeding you lies and your fighting right back against it, to find the cracks in your armour and press and press until it gives out. “I’m sorry.”

Words so familiar to you they should be written on your gravestone.

He tsks, waving at the air dismissively, “Now, stop with all that.” It’s the harshest he’s ever spoken to you yet it’s still quiet and kind. He comes to face you, the light inside falling on his face and into the deep groves of it.

Despite yourself, you gaze into his eyes, to peer at the earnestness in them, dreadfully familiar.

“I’m sorry.” A frozen clock, stuck on the same time, the seconds hand beating and beating and going nowhere, as the world around it covers itself in dust and death.

Pulvis es et in pulverem reverteris.

He smiles, eyes still feather-soft and honey-sweet. A strand of hair comes loose, falling into his face and you see the Joel you’ve come to love, despite any and all precautions.

You say his name quietly, “He was the only one who…” It’s hard to describe what your husband had done for you, even if you hadn’t felt so stunted with words since you started learning them. His earnest and pure love that had flowed through him for you and the whole world while he was alive, how you’d thwarted it away, the black, rotten core inside of you screaming out, and how, wave after wave, he’d returned to you.

“And you think there’s only one person for you in this world?” There’s nothing patronizing in his voice, which makes it all the worse for you. You wish it had been that simple, that you had seen yourself worthy of only your husband’s love, had seen something in his relentless pursuit of giving it over to you with no hope of return. How it had been only stronger on the days it had been hard to eat, and sleep, and wake up.

Your voice breaks, “I wasn’t even supposed to get the one.”

“Oh, honey,” he coos. The heel of his palm is rough as it brushes against your jaw. Coaxing, he tilts your head up to face his. The second time only you’ve been so close to him and it seems your body still hasn’t gotten used to it.

The darkness of the night is enshrouding, humidity pressing against your lungs. Joel’s jacket is on top of your shoulders, his presence drowning out the darkness, leaving sunlight and trees instead. You feel his roots claw down into your chest, latch onto your liver and heart.

“You know…” he swallows and you’re too close to the motion because you’re dangerously close to your knees giving out underneath you. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

It’s not judgmental, Joel could never be that. But you shrink inside nonetheless, embarrassed and feeling smaller than ever.

Ghosts swarm around the two of you, stirring the air and making a soft breeze and goosebumps rise against your skin.

You go to look away but he wills it not and what is the turning of the Earth if not for the wants of Joel Miller?

“Real flattered, if I could say so. Didn’t think-” he clears his throat and this time he looks away, shy and young, a bird hiding its beak in its wing. “Didn’t think you’d fancy an old man like me.”

The truth behind his words amazes you, how it’s something he seems to have considered time and time again relentlessly, from all angles, and still decided it to be his reality.

“How-how…could I not?”

There’s the deep, soothing rumble of his laugh again. It rings clear with tradition and home, and baked clay and spotted ceramic owls. “You’re a bit hard to read sometimes, honey.”

Inside of you, your veins seize up, heart quivering at his words. He smiles down at you in that gentle, Joel way of his, quieting your thoughts. The soft drone of music drifts out from the open window, the slow murmur of a content crowd of happy people.

His arm wraps around your waist, testing, eyes flitting back and forth on you. With each pass of his gaze, you feel the soft patter-like feet of butterflies resting against your cheeks, wings flapping slowly, measured as if to show your heart how to beat again, properly.

Daringly, you inch closer to him. His nose comes down to meet yours.

“Hey, darlin’...honey?”

He’s whispering and he’s never whispered with you before.

His breath is warm against your face, if you could, you would tuck your head under his shirt and never come up again.

“Can I kiss ya? Would ya let me?”

It’s hard to think that this is where you’ve ended up with Joel, from the first time you saw him those handful of years ago, where he’d been standing off to the side talking with someone, standing over a pile of wood, until now. His weight leaned on one leg, hip popped out making you lose your breath at the sight of it.

Like a blossoming tea he’s unfurled for you. Had stretched and arched in hot water, catching your eye for it never to be let go of again.

He traces your hairline with his finger, murmurs your name. “Can I?” His eyes are only on your mouth now, sometimes coming up to blink and meet yours.

Joel seems close to as nervous as you, seems as if he sees you to be precious the same way you do him. It’s equally surprising and comforting, gives you the final push forward, your foot slipping against a grainy edge and plummeting you towards the bottom, wind beating against your ears.

“Yeah.” You sound strong, certain. The sturdy trunk of an oak tree. Even more daring, you press your palm against his tummy, a few fingers under the edge of his ribs, enjoying the give of his flesh as you lean up into him even more.

His voice rumbles against your lips, the whispering lost to the wind now, “Ain’t you the sweetest thing.”

Thanks so much for reading, hopefully I haven't lost my edge after a year off. If you liked this please consider leaving me some feedback, I obsess over it constantly!

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v6quewrlds · 6 months ago

Text

❝ borderline, j. burrow & t. higgins. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: working in and around the nfl for years, there aren't many people in the league who can knock you off your game. by some twist of fate, two of them show up together, hoping to lure you into their orbit.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: as requested by an anon <3 pls don't read if you're uncomfortable with this concept. didn't really know how to end this one so it's ambiguous lmao did this lowkey give me an idea for a pt 2? maybe. joe calls reader "sweetheart", tee calls reader "baby".

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers (?) the plural is intentional, threesome, fingering, eiffel tower but not really, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facial, somewhat dom!joe, switch!tee, pre-meditated threesome if you squint, praise kink.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader x tee higgins.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.

You walked through the grand hotel lobby, your stilettos clicking against the marble floor. Your emerald green dress clung to your body like a glove, drawing the occasional admiring glance. You had looked forward to this wedding the entire season, eager to see your favorite players and closest friends all congregated in one place. As a sports journalist, you had become accustomed to the glitz and glamour of high-profile events, but this one felt different. It was personal.

The reception area was a flurry of activity as guests mingled and waitstaff glided around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and sparkling drinks. The scent of expensive perfumes and cologne hung in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of roasting meat from the nearby dining hall.

You spotted your close friend Bree chatting with a few other guests, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of you. Bree waved you over, gesturing to the table you had been assigned. To your surprise, Joe Burrow and Tee Higgins, two of the Cincinnati Bengals' star players, were already seated at the table, sipping on their drinks and looking dapper in their tuxedos.

"Hey, y'all," you greeted them with a bright smile, placing your clutch on the table. "I didn't know you two were close to Amber and Dan."

Joe's smile was warm, but his sarcasm was as sharp as ever, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his whiskey. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I was invited. Maybe they felt sorry for me because I don't get out much." The admission drew chuckles from the rest of the table, but you knew him well enough to detect the hint of self-deprecating playfulness in his voice.

Tee spoke up next, his signature soft-spoken confidence unwavering even amidst the buzz of the crowded room. "I've known Amber since college, actually. Her sister dated my roommate." He leaned back in his seat, a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes lingering on your face as he took a sip. "You close with Daniel?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of pride as you thought of your career achievements. "Yeah, I've had some pretty memorable interviews with him. The sit-down I did with him after his knee injury helped me land my gig on First Take." You took a sip of your own drink, the cool liquid doing little to quell the heat rising in your cheeks as you weathered the intense gazes of the two athletes.

"How sweet," Joe said with a smirk, raising his glass of whiskey in a mock toast. "Is that why you swore he was league MVP last season?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay, I might have been a bit biased. But I owed him for that interview," you took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid sliding down your throat, your eyes dancing with mischief. "Were you jealous?"

Joe's smirk grew wider, his blue eyes flickered over to Tee's brown ones before moving back to find yours. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his hand landing casually on your thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. You felt the heat rising from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

As if sensing it was his turn to flirt with you, Tee leaned closer, his hand ghosting against your shoulder as it fell over the back of your chair. "How's First Take going for you? Still holding your own against Stephen A?" His voice was a smooth rumble, and you couldn't help but smile, the tension easing a bit.

"I defended you guys last week, you know," you said with a smirk, swirling the ice in your drink. "Told him you're both underappreciated."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You did?" His hand fell heavier around your thigh as Tee's fingers traced lazy circles into your exposed skin, the warmth of their body heat seeping into your very soul. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

The words left his mouth casually, but you felt a flutter in your stomach. Tee's accompanying laugh did little to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened the air around the three of you.

The conversation grew more intimate, their touches lingering longer, the air around you crackling with unspoken desires. You felt the weight of their gazes on you, the way they studied your every move, every breath. It was like being the star of their own private show, and you found yourself playing up to their attention, your laughs a little louder, your movements a little more exaggerated.

Bree had long disappeared into the crowded dance floor, leaving you alone with Joe and Tee. Your conversation grew quieter, and more intimate, as you shared stories of your lives outside of football. You felt a strange connection with the two men, a bond that extended beyond the superficial. You tried your best to ignore the heat building between your legs as Joe's fingers traced patterns into your bare skin. Tee's thumb pressing into the pressure point at the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The music grew louder, the rhythm pulsing through the floor and into your bodies. The lights grew dimmer, casting a seductive glow over the three of you. You found yourself leaning into Tee's touch, your eyes locked onto Joe's as he spoke about his most recent charity event for his foundation. His words cast a sharp contrast with the deep, soothing, seduction of his voice.

The conversation grew more flirty, Joe's hand sliding further up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. You gasped, trying to keep your cool, but the heat of his touch was like a brand on your skin. Tee noticed your reaction and leaned in, whispering something to Joe that made his eyes darken with desire.

"You good?" Tee asked, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. You nodded, your voice a little shaky. "Yeah, I'm okay." But you weren't okay; your nerves were on fire, the anticipation building like a storm in your chest.

The tension at the table grew so thick it was almost tangible, your eyes speaking volumes in the dimly lit room. When Joe leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress against your neck, you couldn't resist anymore. You turned to him, your eyes asking him a silent question, unwilling to potentially tip off a noisy guest to your newfound chemistry. Tee watched, his own desire evident in the way he licked his lips, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your other thigh.

Recognizing the confirmation in Joe's eyes, your head turned to look at Tee, the same question in your eyes. He answered it with a smoldering gaze that left no room for doubt. "Come with us," he murmured, his voice a seductive invitation that sent a thrill through your body.

The three of you stood as one, the two men flanking your sides like bodyguards, guiding you through the sea of wedding guests. The music grew louder, the rhythm beckoning you to the dance floor, but you had other plans. Your heart raced as Joe's hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass, while the back of Tee's hand brushed against yours. The electricity between you was undeniable, a current that could light up the entire hotel.

The three of you moved through the crowd, the warmth of your bodies pressing together, the heat of your desire almost too much to handle. When you reached the elevator, the tension was unbearable. Joe's hands pulled your back flush against his chest, making you gasp as his strong hands wandered across the material of your dress. Tee stood in front of you, his hand tipping your head back as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was anything but casual. The doors closed, and the world outside was forgotten.

The elevator ride was a blur of hands and lips, the three of you exploring each other's bodies like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your dress was hiked up, Joe's hand slipping under your panties to feel the wetness that had pooled there. Tee's hand found your breasts, kneading them gently as Joe whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The ding of the elevator arriving at Tee's floor brought you back to reality with a jolt. You stumbled out into the hallway, breathless and desperate.

Tee fumbled with the keycard, the anticipation almost too much to bear. You giggled as Joe muttered low and bitter under his breath, "Take your time, buddy."

The door finally clicked open, and the three of you tumbled into the room, a whirlwind of lust and passion. The lights were dimmed, casting a seductive glow across the plush king-sized bed. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the two men, both so powerful on the field, look at you with a hunger you hadn't seen before.

Joe took the lead, his eyes dark with desire as he approached you, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you against his firm chest. His kiss was demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could taste your thoughts, your fears, your desires. Tee's hands were on your shoulders, pushing the dress down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. You gasped as Joe's mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as his hands found your nipples, ghosting his fingertips over the peaks.

"Hold on," you said, placing a hand on Joe's wrist to still his movements. You took a deep breath, your eyes searching theirs for any sign of doubt. "Are you two sure that if I do this, there won't be some blonde chick harassing me on Instagram afterward?"

"You know we don't do drama. That's the last thing we need before the season," Joe assured you, his hands sliding up your arms to cup your shoulders. "We're just here to have a good time." His voice was a low purr, his gaze intense.

Tee stepped closer to you, a tattooed hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "We promise, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. "This is just about us, right here, right now."

You searched their eyes, the room spinning with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You nodded slowly before speaking up again, "Okay, no pics, no videos, and this stays between the three of us. Agreed?"

"Scout's honor," Joe murmured, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you closer.

Tee leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. The room felt electrified as your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to rest on his broad chest. You could feel Joe's erection pressing against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he watched the exchange. The heat of their bodies, the scent of your desire, and the promise of what was to come washed over you like a wave.

"You guys are playing with fire," you murmured against Tee's mouth, but the smirk that played on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He broke the kiss, a knowing look passing between the two men. You gasped, pushing back against Joe as his hands found your tits, his palms squeezing them roughly, thumbs brushing against your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

"We know," Joe whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "But sometimes, you've gotta risk getting burned." His hand slipped down to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the room hit your bare back, making your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Tee stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, his muscles rippling with every movement. You felt a rush of arousal as he revealed his sculpted chest, the ink on his skin telling a story of strength and resilience. He slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you couldn't help but bite your lips in anticipation.

"You're so fuckin' sexy," Joe murmured, his hand slipping into your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Tee's hands on your hips as he turned you to face him. The two men moved around you like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch setting your skin on fire.

The two men took turns kissing you, each one's touch different yet equally electrifying. Joe's kisses were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that made your legs tremble. Tee's were soft and gentle, his lips brushing yours in a way that made you feel cherished. Your hands roamed over their broad chests, feeling the firmness of their muscles beneath the warm skin.

Tee stepped away, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. "Damn, baby," he breathed, reaching out to trace the curves of your breasts. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, making them peak. Joe's hands slid down your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall away. The cool air made you gasp, your breasts bouncing slightly as you were exposed to them in nothing but the flimsy excuse for panties you had chosen for the night.

The tension in the room was thick, the anticipation almost a tangible force. You felt their eyes on you, the weight of their desire a heavy presence that made your knees weak. You stepped out of your heels, the impact of your bare feet on the carpeted floor leaving the football players towering over you.

"Get on the bed," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you crawled onto the plush mattress. As you sat, perched and pretty, on the comforter, Joe began to undress, allowing Tee to make the first move.

Tee's eyes never left yours as he approached, his tuxedo jacket tossed aside and his bow tie undone. His large, strong hands reached for you, gripping your ankles and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You felt the heat from his body as he leaned in, his warm breath fanning your face as he whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful."

His words sent a shiver through you as he pushed your thighs apart, revealing your damp panties. Joe stepped closer, his own pants undone, his erection straining against his boxer briefs. He reached out, sliding one finger along the lacy fabric before hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pulling them to the side, exposing you to their hungry gazes.

"Goddamn," Tee whispered, his eyes locked on your nakedness. Joe's dick grew harder in his briefs as he watched his friend's reaction, his own desire mirrored in the tightness of Tee's jaw. Your heart was racing, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. You felt a thrill run through you as you watched their reactions, your own anticipation reaching a fever pitch.

"Prettiest pussy you've ever seen, huh?" Joe said with a smirk, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your bare skin. Tee nodded, unable to form coherent words as he stared.

You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you both took a moment to appreciate your body. You had always felt confident in your own skin, but the raw, carnivorous hunger in their expressions was something you had never experienced before. It was like they were really seeing you for the first time, and the thought of being desired by two such powerful, successful men was a heady aphrodisiac.

The room grew quiet, and the only sound was the rustle of clothes being removed. Your breathing grew shallow as Joe knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly peeled off your panties. Tee sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh with a look that made you quiver with anticipation. You could see his cock, thick and hard, straining against his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your thigh. He placed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. Tee leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hand moving to cup your breast. You felt like you were in a dream, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in as Joe's tongue found your clit.

Their touches grew more urgent, more demanding, as they worked in tandem to bring you to the edge. Your hips began to rock, your body responding instinctively to the sensations they were creating. You felt Joe's hand slip between your legs, his fingers teasing your folds before sliding inside you, the feel of his thick digits stretching you and setting your body alight. Tee's mouth found yours, a heavy hand reaching to squeeze at the sides of your neck, your moans muffled by his kisses.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the expertise of a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. Tee's tongue danced with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice, your body tightening around Joe's hand.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations: the scent of their cologne, the sound of fabric shifting, the feel of Joe's calloused hands on your skin. It was almost too much, and you were lost in a haze of pleasure when Tee broke away, leaving you gasping for air.

"Gonna come, baby?" Tee's question was a breathy murmur in your ear, his hand moving from your neck to cup your cheek as he watched your face contort with pleasure. You could only nod, unable to form words as Joe's fingers worked their magic.

Your eyes locked onto Tee's above you as you felt Joe's thumb press down hard on your clit, your body arching off the bed as your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you in an explosion of color and sensation. You moaned weakly, your pussy clenching around Joe's hand as you rode the peak, your nails digging into the mattress.

When you finally came down, Joe withdrew his hand, a smug smile on his face. As if sharing a sense of telepathy, the two men stood up simultaneously to remove their boxers, revealing their generous lengths. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, your heart racing with excitement and nerves.

"Make some room for me," Tee said with a mischievous smile, sliding onto the bed behind you as you sat up. His hand traveled down your body, his thumb brushing the swollen bud of your clit before sliding two fingers inside you. You gasped as he began to pump them in and out, his touch gentle yet firm.

Joe, who had stepped up to the edge of the bed, watched with darkened eyes as Tee worked his magic. He nodded towards Tee's lap as your eyes fluttered open. "You gonna get on top, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.

With a smile, you shuffled over to Tee, your eyes meeting his hooded browns. You straddled Tee's thighs, feeling his hardness beneath you. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, his breathing heavy, before he leaned up and kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours. You could feel Joe's eyes on the two of you, his gaze burning into your skin as you reached down to stroke Tee's dick before sinking down on it with a moan.

The feel of him filling you sent you both spiraling and you had to bite back a scream as you adjusted to his size. Tee's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to ride him. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps for air. You leaned back into Joe as he slotted behind you, his hands pressing blistering heat into your skin as he kissed your neck and whispered encouragement into your ear.

Tee pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes hooded with desire as he watched you take him in. He reached up, his hands finding your tits, and began to tease your nipples as you rode him. The sight of you bouncing on his dick, your pussy squeezing him with every move, had him on the edge of his seat, quite literally. You threw your head back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moaned out Tee's name, feeling the heat of Joe's chest against your back.

Joe's hands began to wander, caressing your body as you moved in rhythm with Tee. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles that had your pussy spasming around Tee's cock. Your moans grew louder, your body moving faster as Joe's touch grew more insistent. You felt Tee's cock thicken inside you, and you knew he was close.

"Fuck, Joe, you seein' this shit?" Tee's voice was strained, his eyes glazed with pleasure as he watched your body take his length. Joe's only response was a low, feral growl as he continued to tease your clit.

"Perfect fuckin' fit," Joe murmured, his own arousal clear as he lazily stroked himself in time with your rhythm.

Your breathing grew shallow, your eyes locked onto Tee's. You felt Joe's breath against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his fingers worked their magic. "I'm gonna cum," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

"Again?" Tee teased, brown eyes glittering with excitement as he watched your body tense with the approaching wave of pleasure. "I ain't complaining, but you're gonna wear me out." Your face grew hot as you felt the dual pressure of Tee inside you and Joe's thumb on your clit, pushing you to the edge.

"I can't help it," you panted, "you two are just too much."

Joe's chuckle was a dark promise against your ear. "We're just getting to the good part," he half promised, half teased, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

The room was a whirlwind of sensation: the slick slide of skin, the scent of arousal, the heat of two men surrounding you. Finally, you threw your head back again, your dark hair fanning out against Joe's pale shoulder as you came, your pussy clamping down on Tee's cock.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the orgasm ripped through you, drawn out by the feel of both Joe and Tee's hands on you. You barely registered Tee's cock slipping away from your heat, chuckling darkly as Joe watched your body spasm with pleasure. The quarterback muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck me," and you felt a shyness creep over your cheeks, even in the throes of passion.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart," Joe finally murmured, his voice thick with desire. You complied, your legs shaky as Joe helped you to your feet. Tee leaned back on his elbows, his cock still throbbing against his stomach, glistening with your combined arousal.

Joe's hands slid around your waist, positioning you to face Tee. He whispered in her ear, "Suck his cock, baby. Make him feel good."

Your eyes widened, but the desire in Joe's voice and the way Tee's eyes lit up at the suggestion made your body respond immediately. You leaned over the edge of the bed as Tee scooted backward to allow room for your chest to rest on the sheets between his spread legs. Carefully, Tee swept your hair up into a crude ponytail, giving him an unobstructed view of your beautiful brown skin and the way your back arched with anticipation.

Your mouth hovered over Tee's cock, your breath warm against the sensitive flesh. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding you down as you took him in. Your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked him in deep, your eyes closing delicately as you moaned around the taste of your arousal coating his length.

Joe's hand trailed over your skin to squeeze at your ass, sliding his cock to nestle in your warm pearl. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned around Tee's cock, the vibrations making him twitch with pleasure. Tee's grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as he guided your head up and down his length, his eyes tracing over your blissed-out expression.

Your bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire that had been building since you first set eyes on each other that evening. The room was a whirlwind of sensations - Joe's calloused fingers digging into your skin, Tee's cock sliding in and out of your mouth, and the smell of your combined arousal. You felt like you were floating, weightless and free, as you gave in to the moment.

With a surge of energy, you lifted from Tee's dick, swirling your tongue around his mushroom tip with a self-indulgent smile. Joe's eyes lit up as he watched you, his own arousal evident as he continued thrusting into you. Tee's chest heaved as he took in the sight of you, his abs clenching with the effort to hold back.

"What the fuck?" Tee's eyes went wide with shock and arousal as he watched your teeth graze lightly over the most sensitive part of him, your eyes all innocent and pure as you gazed up at him. He didn't know what was happening, but his body was definitely on board. Your tongue flicked out, licking up the precum that beaded at the tip of his cock, making him grit his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming too soon.

Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "Take him all the way in, baby," his hands on your hips pushing you down slightly. You obeyed, taking Tee deep into your mouth, the sound of your wetness as Joe fucked you from behind echoing through the room.

The sensation was overwhelming, the taste of Tee combined with the feeling of Joe's cock deep inside you making you moan around the head of Tee's dick. The vibrations sent his bottom lip between his teeth, his head dipping back with a strangled groan, nostrils flaring with concentration. You felt Joe's grip tighten, his thrusts growing more erratic as he approached his own climax. Tee's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your pussy clench around Joe's cock.

"Fuck," Tee hissed as your head bobbed up and down, your cheeks hollowing with each suck. The sight of your full lips stretched around his length and Joe's hand guiding you was more than he could handle. His own hand tightened in your hair, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"So good," you moaned around Tee's cock, your body trembling with the force of Joe's thrusts. Your third orgasm was building, a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury at any moment. Tee's hand stroked your cheek, the sweetness of his touch a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic need driving Joe.

"Good girl," Joe groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he watched you take Tee's cock deeper into your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, your body begging for release. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen," the quarterback whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Tee's eyes rolled back, lost in the pleasure of your mouth. His hand on the back of your head grew more insistent, his hips bucking slightly as he approached climax. Your eyes watered, but you didn't pull away, your own pleasure building with every gag and moan you muffled around Tee's dick.

"Oh, shit," he moaned, his voice a deep, guttural sound that sent another shiver down your spine. You felt Joe's cock thicken even more inside you, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold back.

"Bet she dreamed about this, Tee," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. You felt Tee's cock twitch in your mouth at the words, his eyes dark with desire.

"I know she did. Drooling all over my dick like this. Lookin' all pretty," Tee chuckled, his voice strained with arousal.

With that, Joe took over once again. He pulled you off Tee's cock, laughing out loud as his wide receiver shot him a sour look. "Joe," he groaned holding his hands up in protest, but Joe was having none of it.

You felt the warmth of Joe's breath on your neck as he leaned in to whisper, "Gonna look so much prettier with his cum all over your pretty face, gorgeous."

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you moaned out loud, closing your eyes as you tried to will yourself to hold off on your burgeoning orgasm. Tee's eyes widened as he caught onto Joe's words, a devious smirk playing on his lips.

The tension in the room grew palpable as Tee's hand on the back of your head grew firmer, guiding your movements. You felt his cock swell, the veins pulsing against your tongue. Your eyes watered as you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his shaft. The feeling of being used so thoroughly, by two men who had you pinned and writhing with pleasure, was intoxicating.

"Open that pretty mouth for me, baby," Tee urged softly, his voice thick with lust. You complied, presenting your tongue as Tee's cock slid out of your mouth, leaving a trail of precum. You watched as he stroked himself, his hand moving fast and sure.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto the scene before him. You could feel his breath on your neck, his own arousal leaking into you. The anticipation was unbearable, the room seemingly closing in on you as Tee's strokes grew faster. You felt Joe's hand come down to rest on your lower back, hips stilling as Tee approached his climax.

"Gonna paint that pretty face, baby," Tee warned you, his voice tight with restraint. You nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the first warm spurt of cum hit your cheek, sliding down to your chin. Tee groaned, his hand moving in fast jerks as he coated you in his release. When he was done, you opened your eyes to find Joe watching you, his own desire clear.

Joe's hand moved from your back to your face, his thumb brushing over your cum-covered cheek. "Taste it," he instructed, his voice a seductive growl. You obeyed, your kiss-swollen lips wrapping around the pad of his thumb, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, feeling the stickiness of Tee's release on your skin.

"You fuckin' liked that, didn't you?" Tee's voice was filled with a mix of pride and satisfaction as he watched you lick his cum off Joe's thumb. Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you nodded, a giggle bubbling out of you. The room was thick with the scent of your combined arousal, your hearts pounding in sync with the pulsing beat of the bass from the party below.

Joe's smile grew wicked. His grip on your hips tightened, his dick still buried deep inside you as he began to move again, slowly at first. You fully moaned out, any shyness completely forgotten as you felt Joe twitch inside you. The power play between them had you more turned on than you'd ever been.

Tee laughed as he finally began to recover from his orgasm. "Go 'head, baby, make Joey cum. I think he worked hard for it." He winked at you, who rolled your eyes playfully. The room was thick with lust, your heavy breathing echoing off the walls.

Joe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Think he's right, sweetheart?" he questioned, his voice low and rough. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him begin to move again, his strokes deep and deliberate. You moaned around the taste of Tee's cum, the sound muffled by your head falling into the sheets.

"Fuck, yes," you managed to murmur, your hips rocking back to meet him. Joe's chuckle was deep and dark as he picked up his pace, his hands moving to squeeze your sides as he drove into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the feeling of being filled with Joe's cock and watching Tee's exhausted, satisfied face was overwhelming.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Joe demanded, his voice strained as he pulled you up against him. Your back arched as you opened your eyes to find his piercing blues staring down at you. "I wanna see your face when I come inside you."

Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze setting your body ablaze. You could feel the muscles in your core tightening, your orgasm building with every stroke. Joe's grip on your hips grew fiercer, his movements punctuated by the slap of your bodies meeting. The head of his cock nudged your g-spot with precision, sending sparks through your body.

"Look at me," Joe repeated, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. You did as you were told, your eyes connecting in a silent agreement that this was more than just a casual fling. There was something deeper, something raw and primal that bound you two together in this moment.

The room seemed to spin around you as Joe's thrusts grew more erratic. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the promise of his climax imminent. You leaned back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust as you threw your head back, your mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "I'm gonna cum again." The words were barely out of your mouth before you felt the warmth of Joe's release fill you up. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, his orgasm intense and powerful. Tee watched, his hand still around his cock, stroking slowly as he took in the sight of two of his close friends, lost in their shared passion.

Your body shuddered as the waves of pleasure washed over you, your hands slotting over Joe's as he trailed a hand up to squeeze at the sides of your neck, constricting your airways deliciously. Joe's cock continued to pulse inside you, painting your insides with his seed as your walls fluttered around him. The heady scent of sex filled the air, intoxicating and overwhelming. You felt Joe's grip on your hips ease, his breathing slowing as he pulled out.

Tee's eyes never left yours, his hand still moving languidly on his shaft. He looked up at Joe, a silent question in his gaze. Joe nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, and Tee moved in closer, his hand reaching for your chin. He turned your face to him, and you felt his kiss, soft and gentle, almost tender in contrast to the fiery passion you had just shared with Joe. It sent a refreshing wave of serenity over you, and you melted into it, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of your climax.

"You good?" Tee asked softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. You nodded, your eyes flicking from Tee to Joe and back again, the gravity of what you had just done settling in. The room was quiet except for your synchronized breathing, and you could feel their eyes on you, watching your every move, every reaction, every twitch of your relaxing muscles.

You felt Joe's weight shift away from you, retreating to the bathroom to grab some washcloths. When he returned, he tossed one to Tee and used the other one to wipe you down gently, his touch surprisingly tender. You looked down at the mess you'd made off the bed, a mix of cum and sweat, and felt a strange sense of pride. These were two of the most eligible bachelors in the NFL, and here they were, sharing you like a treasure.

Your trio lay in a tangled heap of limbs, your breaths syncing as you all came down from the high of your shared experience. The tension of earlier was gone, replaced by a warm, contented silence. You felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known in a long time as Joe's hand trailed lazily across your back and Tee's arm draped over your waist. You were a unit now, bound by a secret that only the three of you knew.

As the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and a hint of nervousness. You looked between them, two men you had known for years, two men you had never thought of in this way until tonight.

"What the hell just happened?" you murmured, a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

Joe leaned in, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "I think we just had the best sex of our lives," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. Tee's eyes twinkled with playfulness as he nodded in agreement. "All because of you, baby," he added, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips as the teammates reached over your body to dap each other up in shared accomplishment. A "My man," slipped through the quiet from Tee's lips, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. The sight of the two men celebrating their supposed victory, their friendship so clear even in the most intimate of moments, filled you with a strange sense of comfort.

"So, you two wanna explain why you're so good at this?" you teased, poking Joe in the ribs, the blonde squirming at your touch. "It's like you've practiced."

Joe's smirk grew wider. "I think this is pretty close to what we do on the field, you know? That QB-WR connection? We've got it down." His eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer to you. "We just knew what we wanted." His hand traveled down your side, sending a fresh wave of tingles across your skin.

"Once we figured out we both had feelings for you, we figured we could share," Tee whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're too much for just one of us to handle anyway." He chuckled, his hand sliding down your thigh. "It doesn't hurt that we make a pretty good team."

"And what would you two have done if I said no?" you asked, your voice revealing a hint of a challenge. You couldn't help the smirk that tugged at your lips as you watched the two men exchange glances, the unspoken communication between them almost comical in its synchronicity.

"I'd fuckin' kill him, he talked me into it," Tee said with a chuckle, reaching over you playfully jostle Joe. "But for real, we knew you'd be down."

Joe's expression grew serious. "We respect you too much to push you into anything." He brushed a lock of hair from your face. "We just wanted to be honest. Let you know how we feel."

You searched their faces, the gravity of their words sinking in. "I appreciate that," you said softly. "But what now? This isn't exactly something you tell people at work when they ask about your weekend."

Joe nodded. "We know. That's why it's just between us. What happens in this room, stays in this room." His thumb traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers up your spine. "But if you're into it, we could keep this going."

Tee leaned in, his voice a gentle rumble against your skin. "Just something casual. No strings, no drama. Just something between us three. We got each other's backs, always."

Your heart raced at the thought. It was risky, especially with your career in and around the league. But the connection you felt with Joe and Tee was undeniable, a potent cocktail of attraction and friendship that you hadn't experienced before. The thrill of secrecy only added to the allure.

"Okay," you said, your voice a hesitant whisper. "But only if we're all clear on the rules. No one outside this room can ever know. Ever."

Joe and Tee nodded solemnly, their eyes locked on yours. "You got it," Joe said, his thumb brushing over your plump lower lip. "Our lips are sealed."

This was fucking insane.

655 notes · View notes

safination · 7 months ago

Text

The Tell

|Masterlist|

Pairings: Alastor x Wife! Fox!Reader TLDR: It's been seven years since you've last seen Alastor, and here he is pretending he doesn't have a tail that tells you how happy he is to see you

This is for @voxtekinc's week 3 prompt: Stop Stalking Me. Many, many thanks to the greatest Rodent ever, @crackrodent, for coming up with the title because I could not. (Fox tail because of Kit.)

Every step that Alastor takes, you take as well. Every corner that he rounds, you round as well. The more steps he takes, the more steps you take. It’s like a funny little dance.

You follow him across the long and unfamiliar hallways of the Hazbin Hotels, passing by different rows of rooms. (Do any of these rooms belong to Alastor?) It’s easy to follow him when Alastor does nothing but walk and walk and walk through these winding halls. Still, you follow and follow and follow him through the halls.

It’s like game you’re playing with your husband. The base of your fox tail curls from side-to-side, forming half hearts with every swish.

Alastor stops in his tracks, and turns behind with dialed eyes. The air glitches around you, and your tail flicks from the look of his eyes. “I can sense you from all the way there, dearest,” he says. “You’re not doing a very good job of hiding from me.”

You step closer to him, a bright smile on your lips as you play with your fingers. “I’m not trying to hide from you, my deer.”

“What are you even doing?” Alastor strikes the floor with his microphone, creting this distance between the both of you. “I told you – I’m busy.”

“I’m not busy,” you say. “So, I’m spending my time with you while you’re off doing whatever it is you’re going to do in this hotel.”

“Go follow someone else.”

“I have no other husbands to follow.” You lean a bit closer with a smile, crossing the line he drew with his microphone. “You disappeared on me for several years! I’m very happy to see you, and I’m taking every chance I can get with you.”

Alastor removes his microphone, and cups your face. His thumb goes up and down the skin of your cheek. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the warmth of his touch. So, if you lean into him more than usual . . . then, that’s your business.

“I’m not going back to our home without you after some tour,” you say, closing your eyes to revel in his warmth. “I would like some time with you as well.”

Alastor smiles that wide smile at you, his shadow towering over your body. “Stop stalking me.”

“I would follow you to the edges of Hell. You should have known that the moment you presented me with a ring.” You stare into his eyes, wide and unblinking. “Had I been any less of a stalker, I would be in Heaven, married to some other fella.”

“We both know that isn’t true,” Alastor boops your nose, leaning down to show off the yellow in his tooth. “You’ve never been able to stop yourself from following after me. Imagine my shock when I found you outside my door with a body.”

You mirror his grin. “What intrigued you the most—the body or the fact that I found your address?”

“How charming of you, my dear.” Alastor rolls his eyes. “Stop following me.”

“Ha!” You smack his bicep in good fun. “It’s really difficult to leave you alone when you’ve been flirting with me all day.”

“I have not been flirting.”

You lean up, using the tips of your toes, and press one, single kiss on his lips.

Swish.

Alastor tries to deepen the kiss, but you pull back with the most innocent smile on your face.

The lump behind Alastor’s coat starts to thump between the fabric. The noise is faint, but the hallways is quiet enough. Alastor’s ears flick for a second when he realizes that the swishing sound came from him. Alastor groans into your hair, leaning his weight on you.

You pull away from him, grinning at the way his smile wobbles into embarrassment, and lift the back of his coat. The base of his tail wags in slow movement of left to right. The sight of his deer tail happily swishing cause your own tail to wag like a happy dog.

Alastor presses a hand to his face, grumbling, but still, he allows you to stare into his happy tail. “I should just cut if off.”

“Nonsense!” you say, and the base of your fingers run along the fur of his tail, and you pinch the sensitive base. “I quite like your tail.”

Alastor jumps out, grabbing your wrist with a glare. “Stop it.”

The way he stares into you causes a shiver that straightens out your tail. It settles a type of warmth into your cheeks. Still, your tail happily wags like a dog, curling in the shape of half hearts, as a smile stretches across your face.

“My deer,” you say, and a small giggle escapes you. “This is the most you’ve looked at me today.”

Alastor presses a kiss on the inside of your wrist, and releases it with a smile. He pulls you into a hug, and the moment you return his hug, the base of his tail starts to swish even harder . . . it accompanies your own wagging tail. “You’re quite happy to see me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy to see my husband?” You boop his nose. “I would never hide how happy it makes me to see you, my deer.”

Alastor curls into your arms, pressing his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m . . . I’m quite happy to see you as well.”

You tighten your grip on his shirt, as if letting go would make Alastor disappear again.

Still, two happy tails wag together in unison.

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stvolanis · 8 months ago

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the taste of metal traced his tongue that danced between your thighs. The graze of his sharpened teeth pricking at the flesh of your skin. The fanning of his breath sending a chill down your spine as he drew closer to your core, where you needed him most. A desperate craving to feel any part of him, in fear you might never again. His fangs that sank into your thighs, marking you for anyone else who dared get close enough to see.

“No one will ever have you like I do.” He whispered, his voice eerily calm considering the vile things he was doing to you. Your panties pushed to the side, a wet tongue pressed to your clit, making you jolt from the sudden pressure. Your hand found his hair, gripping it rather harshly. Any mortal would have wept, but Armand was no mortal. No silly boy playing around with a lack of experience. No, he was a man who had been alive 514 exhausting years, the least he could do is learn how to properly please a woman.

It was a game he played. He always won. You liked to tell yourself it’s because you let him, but you knew better. Like prey being hunted, every time you grasped your freedom, Armand would find you. Claw you back in, and leave you little room to escape. A game of cat and mouse, that usually ended with you in the same coffin as him. You couldn’t think straight, not with his voice filling your head even as he ate you out like blood was nothing compared to your juices.

“Foolish girl. Ungrateful for the dark gift given to you. Eating mice and goats, rather than humans. Have you any idea how hard of a task it was to not drain you dry when I turned you?” His voice echoed in your head like an unwanted siren. “Get out. Out of my head, maitre.” You shook your head back and forth at the overwhelming pleasure as his fingers prodded your entrance. “I made you. Don’t forget that. So silence, so I can do as I please with you, fledgling.”

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @luxuriouslokistan-3 @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @floredaqueen @peterpan-neverfails-blog @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy @vogueprincess @theoraeken

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

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coolgrl111 · 23 days ago

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JEALOUS!ART X READER.

PART 4.

a/n: hiiiii i’m sorry i’m literally evil.. it’s been a year daddy!!!! i’ve been wanting to write more in my fics, so we have another mix of smaus and writing!!! pls enjoy 💋💋

part 1

part 2

part 3

—

she opened the app with fingers trembling like moth wings. drew’s page. a carousel of screenshots. texts ripped out of context. photos from months ago with captions twisted into knives.

“cheating whore.”

“hope art was worth it.”

“funny how you act innocent when you’re on your knees for your best friend.”

her face burned. the room tilted. the silence screamed.

her first instinct wasn’t even heartbreak—it was shame. not because of what she’d done (nothing, nothing, nothing) but because of what people would now believe.

art stirred. turned. blinked at her with sleep-slowed eyes, the worry rising as he took in her expression.

“what is it?”

she couldn’t speak, just handed him the phone.

he read it once. then again. jaw tight, mouth a straight line that trembled only slightly.

“he doesn’t get to do this to you,” he said, voice low. “he doesn’t get to twist things.”

her throat burned. “but people will believe him.”

art sat up, ran a hand through his hair. looked at her like she was something fragile, yes—but not broken.

“then let them believe what they want,” he said. “i know the truth. you do too.”

her fingers went slack.

the phone slid from her hands and hit the carpet with a soft, traitorous thud.

she folded forward, slow then all at once, like paper creasing under rain—arms around her stomach, head pressed to her knees, trying to hold herself in. but the sob tore through her chest without warning, and then another, and then another.

it was ugly.

guttural.

art was beside her in less than a breath.

“hey—hey,” he said, panicked, the word breaking. “no, please—what—what can i do?”

his voice cracked on please.

she couldn’t look at him. couldn’t speak. the pain swelled inside her like a tide, rising fast, drowning her in shame and hurt and the fear that this—this version of herself, shattered and humiliated—would push him away forever. but art stayed.

he knelt on the bed beside her, his hair messy, his eyes puffy from sleep—a hand hovering before it landed on her back, trembling.

his palm moved in slow circles, but he was shaking too hard to make it steady.

“you don’t deserve this,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “you know you didn’t do anything wrong. you’re no cheat. we didn’t...” his words quietened. it was true. they hadn’t done anything intimate. was it bad if she wished they did?

she shook her head, hands covering her face, tears pouring through the cracks in her fingers.

“they’re gonna think it’s true,” she choked. “they’ll think i lied, that i—that we—”

“fuck them,” he said, too loud, too raw. then softer, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

his other hand brushed her hair back. his eyes were red now, too.

“i hate seeing you like this,” he said, close to crying himself. “it’s like—god, it’s like someone’s reaching into my chest and ripping everything out. i just want to fix it. i’d do anything to fix it. i never fucking liked drew, you know that? never thought he was good enough.”

and then she remembered.

his text.

“i’m in love with you, y/n.”

last night, amidst her panic about the stanford gossip page posting about her and drew—he’d sent it. she hadn’t replied. couldn’t.

it was only six words.

just thinking about it again knocked the air out of her, just like drew’s horrible messages did—only this was a different panic. because maybe she reciprocated it.

she looked up at him, finally. saw the way his eyes searched hers, desperate. his bottom lip was trembling.

“why did you tell me you loved me last night?” she whispered.

he blinked, startled. “because i couldn’t hold it in anymore. because you were so sad. and you’re so beautiful… and i couldn’t stand the thought of you going home to someone who didn’t see you the way i do.”

her breath caught in her throat.

“and now this happens,” he went on, voice breaking again. “and it’s like—i confessed something real and instead of kissing you forever, making you mine— i’m watching you fall apart because of someone who didn’t deserve one second of your love.”

her eyes filled again. not from shame this time. not from fear.

“i hate drew, y/n. i absolutely despise that fucking prick.”

his words were firm, but from the way he looked at her, so soft, it was like she was all he’d ever waited for.

“i’m sorry i didn’t say anything,” she whispered. “i was scared.”

“i’m scared too,” he said. “but i’m not going anywhere.”

his thumbs were still on her cheeks, catching the tears as they fell, brushing her skin like he was memorising the shape of sorrow. and she was crying again—not from fear this time, but from the unbearable kindness in his voice, the way he held her like she was something sacred.

her hands moved slowly, unsure, reaching to hold his wrists. she looked at him—really looked—and saw him trembling just like she was. his eyes glossy, mouth parted like he was afraid of what might happen next.

and then, almost without thinking, she whispered, “then don’t go.”

and leaned in.

their foreheads touched first, like a prayer. a pause. a promise.

and then, finally their lips found each other.

it wasn’t perfect. it was messy and wet and trembling. he kissed her like he had waited forever but wasn’t sure he was allowed. she kissed him like she might break from it, and maybe she was.

they were both still crying. she could taste salt on his mouth, couldn’t tell whose it was. didn’t care.

his hands slid to cradle her jaw, holding her steady. her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt like she needed to anchor herself to something that wouldn’t hurt her. the kiss deepened slowly, like a secret unfolding between them, years in the making. it wasn’t lust. it wasn’t a firestorm. it was gentler, more devastating—it was real.

when they finally pulled apart, neither of them moved far. foreheads resting together. breathing the same air. they both sniffled from the tears.

art let out a soft, broken laugh. “i’ve wanted to do that since we were sixteen.”

she smiled shyly. “me too.”

taglist: @blastzachilles @mrszweig @grimsonandclover @areyoutheregoditsmecelia @hrrysglitter

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captain-joongz · 2 months ago

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Prove your heart; Dragonheart ch.3

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

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

Chapter summary: The ceremony happens, and since then it just seems like one crisis after another. How much can one human possibly bear?

Word count: cca 26.7k words

Warnings: angsttttt, i'd say near death experience adjacent, drowning, violence, huge emotional turmoil, some hostility and mistrust, the emperor being a weirdo, forced proximity kinda??, i hope that's all

Series masterlist | Previous Part | Next part

Lore | Dictionary | Character studies

A/N: welcome!! it's been a while, i know, but i bring a whole new beast of a chapter! this just kept getting longer and longer haha, hope you enjoy <3 pace is about to pick up from here on out!

If Jungkook wasn’t nervously fidgeting right beside me, I’d feel a lot more embarrassed for the way my fingers endlessly toyed with the silk fabric of my uniform, stretching and smoothing it out, shifting the belt around or righting the jade beads as they swung about my hip. I felt the wild thrum of my heartbeat in my ribcage, the palms of my hands growing clammy as the distant buzz of a banquet roared in the background.

I looked to the young dragon again, and for all his nerves and shifting from foot to foot, the moment he sensed my eyes on him he smiled wide, warmness around him that calmed me a little.

The room behind the wall quietened before a loud chorus of “greetings to our empire” sounded through so fiercely I almost felt the ground shake with the echo. My heart slowed before jumping up into even a faster beat, and I locked my knees to keep me standing upright.

The emperor has arrived. The ritual would soon begin.

The murmurs of other first-years and their chosen bonds caught up to me and I was suddenly aware of Hwa-young’s cheery voice and the quiet rumble of her dragoness Yong, an answering giggle from Siwoo who came in with a tall muscled dragon that didn’t speak much, but had a gentle aura around him. The other three stood a little away from us, stone-faced and firm, their own chosen dragons standing next to them stiffly.

For all of them, life would change tonight, with the ceremony taking place.

The few days before went by almost a little too quickly, almost like it was merely hours since I left the dragons’ house after sitting through an awkward and chillingly quiet meal, the unfriendly gazes drilling into me every time I chose to speak or to stay silent, as if I could never make the right choice. Jungkook either felt oblivious to the tension or naively thought it would pass, because he never floundered by my side, channelling warm energy almost as if pretending everything was okay between the eight of us. As if I wasn’t sitting right next to him, wishing I was anywhere else. Or anyone else.

Maybe it wouldn’t make it a smooth ride, but it would definitely be easier.

The thunder has been quiet, keeping out of our way when I arrived to the banquet hall, but knowing they were present put even more stress onto my shoulders, and I tried to not dig too deeply into how they must be feeling and what they possibly thought of this. Actually, I might even take a page from their book and avoid looking to them all-together, lest I buckle under the strength of the dislike displayed there.

The rush of noise from the hall signalled that the emperor has most likely just finished whatever dreary nonsense he was going on about. From what I remembered from the ceremonies I witnessed before, now they would feast and wait for us to get ready for the ritual.

The bonding ceremony had to take place under the naked sky, on a full moon when there was a spike in the natural magickal energy in the air. Dragons, as beings of nature, drew their life-force and their magick from their connection to such phenomena – whether lunar or solar, whether sea or winds, those forces could be harnessed and turned to their own.

Bonding occurrences, whether platonic or romantic, often took place during such important spikes in the natural flow of energy and this one was no exception – even though now it happened under the imperial supervision and not as organically as it used to, with only the elders and Authorities around to bless the union.

There was a sanctuary for these occurrences, it was built as soon as the need for empire sanctioned bondings arose – it was a little roofless gazebo, all white stone and spindly spires covered in carved vines and blooms, as white and cold as the stone, with a little altar right at the centre. It stood right at the edge of the black cliff in one corner of the royal gardens, hanging over the wild sea beneath the castle and overlooking the dark horizon, almost as an omen more than a sacred place.

I wasn’t very well versed in the old dragon lore, and humans weren’t privy to information about such intimate rituals, therefore I didn’t have much of an idea about how the old ceremony used to look like, though I was pretty sure it wasn’t as pompous or procedural as it was today.

Mating bonds were a whole another thing, and those involved much more… intimate affairs, though by the logic we knew of old dragon rituals, even those took place out in the nature, where the moon or the sun could grace the union with its light.

A thunderous clap broke me out of my zoning out just as someone was tugging on my uniform, pulling me away from the little corner where I was having my little spiral.

Hwa-young’s smile appeared light, though I could see the slight strain on her face. Her own nerves must have been eating her from the inside, the weight of carrying a forbidden surname and yet participating in such a public display was no ordinary feat. Yet, she carried herself no less cheerful, and I had to admire the strength of her spirit for that. In my own little awkward gesture of support I patted her shoulder lightly. Her smile melted slightly, showing a tad more relief, and then she was off towards her dragoness friend.

Wordlessly I followed after her, feeling Jungkook trailing behind me just from the sheer aura he exuded. We had a very different path to follow – whereas the emperor and the attendees dined and drank wine before slowly making their way over to the ceremonial place, we had to cleanse ourselves before the bonding.

When I walked out the little side-room, a woman was standing there. I recognised her immediately upon seeing her face, and how could I not – when she was one of the most recognisable faces of this unit, and one of the most vocal supporters of the empire (though you really couldn’t be anything else, if you wanted to be of high standing). Or at least she appeared so – I highly doubted my father truly cared for the empire or the man running it either, but the violence served his own goals too well not to keep his cushy place at the top.

At the castle one never knew whether they spoke to someone opportunistic or just truly brain-washed – that’s why I hated it here so much. It all felt like one never-ending charade.

General Yan was truly no different. It was hard to see what she thought and what opinions she truly held, but everyone knew of the appetite for blood this woman held. And her dragoness was just as brutal.

Their cruelty was a tale that spread far and wide, and drew distaste even from other supporters of the emperor who found them needlessly barbaric. I myself was a witness to how other lords and madams reacted to their savagery and boundless support of any war.

As long as they could slaughter indiscriminately, they were in favour. The emperor loved her, in a way a cruel master does a particularly rabid dog.

Now standing face to face with her, with her attention drawn to us as her new disciples, I got the chance to take a proper look at her.

She was an older woman, maybe in her late fifties – I imagined she must have been around the same age as my father, maybe they could have even attended the Academy in the same year (it would certainly explain their strong dislike of each other). Her hair was very dark grey, as if the black pigment simply refused to give in to time. She was also quite small and a little stout, though her muscle and strength were visible.

Tonight she stood in front of us without her dragoness, but she was no doubt at the banquet drinking with others and waiting for the ceremony to happen.

The general didn’t speak for quite a while, only looked down on us, even with us all taller than her, her appraising gaze sharp and judging. I saw a spark of true joy as she took in Peacock, and I knew those two would simply love each other. They had the disposition for each other.

“Follow me,” were her first words, her voice brittle and cold, and then she was walking away without a single glance back.

I let the other five pairs go first, wanting to put distance between me and the woman, and not wanting to get myself into the way of some other more ambitious students eager to win her approval as soon out of the gates as possible. Though minutely I did wonder how exactly my father planned on pushing me through when the very woman who led this unit seemed to be affiliated with his opposition.

That would be amusing to watch yet.

Jungkook kept quiet by my side, which was somewhat unusual for him, but I couldn’t blame him, not with the oppressive aura that hung over us. He too must have been out of his element here, with his age, getting his first rider, and with his hyungs all away from him in another room, this was as unknown to him as it was to us. Though I imagined he probably got the rundown of the ritual from his other more experienced mates, unlike me.

All I knew was that my body and soul would come out different, connected to my dragon in a way that would make me a little more than simply human. Altered senses, heightened perception and the ability to speak telepathically with your dragon were some I was sure of, but the full extent, the full scope – that continued to escape me.

We walked in silence for a little while, climbing down staircases lower and lower until smooth bricks turned into hard black stone only roughly chiselled into shapes of walls. I’ve never been this deep into the castle, but seeing all that dark and damp, it wasn’t much to desire.

The room where we were led ended up being a high-ceilinged cave-like space with a single stone basin filled to the brim with water. The floor was smoothed over, carved into the resemblance of stone tiles, and the basin stood perfectly in the middle, a few steps above the room.

To my surprise, the general’s dragoness stood there next to it, expressionless but every bit regal and proud, as always.

Ha-rin was one of the dragons that found joy and purpose in serving the empire – after all, every race had their fair share of bloodthirsty and cruel beasts, and dragons were no exception. She was a born warrior, and her poisonous smoke and acidic vomit made her a formidable and nigh unbeatable force. She was one of those dragons that posed considerable risk even to her own kin, which made her just as power-hungry and conceited as humans could get, which in turn served to raise her higher and higher until she climbed to the very top of the dragon food chain.

I imagined that had she been free, she’d have most probably gone against her own brothers and sisters anyway. She’d have probably gone against anyone, to be perfectly honest. She just had that feel about her.

I wondered how such a prideful woman wasn’t torn up about being a slave to a lesser being like humans were (in some dragons’ eyes anyway). Those two must have been incredibly in sync for this to not have been a problem.

General Yan swiftly walked up those few marble stairs and stood next to her partner, both of them standing by the stone basin filled to the brim. We naturally lined up underneath it, all silent and holding our breaths, waiting for the woman to start addressing us, to give us instructions.

Her eyes once again slid across all of us, cold stare taking us in and calculating, wondering. Then she sighed, which didn’t seem very good.

“You are here to cleanse yourselves,” she spoke suddenly, gesturing towards the water, “these waters are blessed by the High Priest, and with his blessing comes the blessing of the Moon herself.”

The water sparkled as if littered with countless tiny stars, one moment deep blue, one moment black, one moment almost silver, ever changing and never the same – and my treacherous mind escaped to Jimin, to his slick hair and his face littered with silvery shimmering scales, the way his movements were as fluid and smooth as the surface of the blessed water when disturbed by the general’s hands. As the sight transfixed me, I could almost see the elegant swing of his arms and hands, the shimmer of his smooth golden skin- I wondered if I’d ever be able to see the graceful arch of his all-powerful wings.

“Once cleansed, you will don ceremonial robes and the time will come to go take the vows,” her sharp voice broke me out of the sudden forbidden turn I took, and with a bit of a start I banished the thoughts of the dragon that had no business floating around my head from my mind.

Emperor’s ominous words from when he summoned me that morning to ask whether I was looking forward to the ceremony also still floated around my mind, the “things will change now for you” spoken in an almost mischievously teasing voice, until I could taste the appetite for suffering in him and shuddered.

First pair begun climbing the stairs towards the General. I felt Jungkook’s hand nervously sneaking in to clutch onto my sleeve.

I watched breathless as the dark-haired young man whose name I haven’t learnt yet reached the stone tub, and for the first time I saw his face turn with the evident traces of uncertainty and unease. The older woman gestured for him to kneel down with a swift movement of her two fingers, and as soon as he was chest level with the water, her hand slowly made its way into his dark suede hair. I only had a split second to register the way she gripped before his head was yanked down, pushed into the little basin chest deep.

There were several gasps of shock between us, but none dared to move, so we all just stood there and watched as he started to struggle, body jerking and arms wildly pushing at the stone, attempting to force his head back up.

The woman standing over him remained expressionless, but I saw the little pleased curl to her lips as she chided him to stay still.

“The less you struggle, the sooner it will be over,” her cold words rang another distinct pang of pure horror through our hearts, the statement just ambiguous and ominous enough to have any kind of meaning.

To the struggling boy it made no difference, she could have just as been speaking in tongues. His body struggled, jerked around with mighty force, but the older woman held stead-fast, not even breaking sweat over his frenzied movements.

As it kept going, slowly his resistance begun losing its strength, and with creeping dread I watched as his hands helplessly slipped around on the polished stone, wet with all the water splashing around. His fingers flexed on the rim, then unflexed again, and then slowly started going slack.

I chanced a look around and saw Hwa-young’s and Siwoo’s face painted with something very similar to what I felt. Jungkook seemed just as disturbed as well, clammy fingers slipping on the silk of my black sleeve. The other dragons watched on with a solemn kind of resolution, and I realised they had likely gone through this before, most probably even several times.

Peacock and the blonde man stood to the side, and this was the most relaxed I’d seen them since we walked into that little back-room and waited for the banquet to start, even though they kept their faces carefully in check.

Finally the hold the general had on the black-haired boy’s head slackened and his chest swung upwards, head fighting to break the surface and take in a long shuddering breath. His weakened form leaned on the stone, open mouth gaping to get in as much air as possible.

He didn’t get much time to catch his bearings though, as the general already gestured for his chosen dragoness to kneel, and with cold eyes pierced the man until he got the hint and moved away, making space for the other person.

I caught a glimpse of the basin as they changed positions, and to my surprise the water was once more filled to the brim, as if a person hasn’t almost drowned there just moments ago, the surface once more calm and almost inviting. If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost call the waters expecting.

Once the dragoness was in position, this time Ha-rin took it upon herself to ‘cleanse’ her, roughly gripping her hair and pushing her down with almost reckless abandon. I dreaded the moment she’d get a go at Jungkook, and by the nervous inhale by my side, the dragon was most likely thinking much the same.

Unlike her knight, the dragoness stayed perfectly still, only her hands tensing up into fists and unfurling again, knuckles white as her shoulders twitched with suppressing the survival instinct begging her to fight for some air.

Ha-rin pushed her around a little, her face pinched tight into a displeased frown – clearly disappointed there wasn’t more struggle, but it seemed that this dragoness has gone through this before. Her rider stood by and watched on with barely concealed terror written onto his red and still wet face, the darkness in his eyes reflecting just how shaken he was after his sudden brush with death.

Once the dragoness stayed stubbornly still and Ha-rin released her not long after, a sour expression on her face, it became quite clear that the earlier line about not struggling too much wasn’t for any ceremonial reasons – quite simply, if you didn’t struggle, it wasn’t fun for them.

I felt disgust coil around the tightly woven fear in my stomach, the unpleasant concoction of emotions making my hands tremble and shaking me through with uneven breaths.

The first duo was quickly sent off their way, the once cocky man now staring off onto the floor, eyes wild and unseeing. I saw the shakiness of his own hands, and I couldn’t blame him, even through the visceral dislike I held towards him.

The next two pairs were over in a flash it seemed – the blonde held steadily, though even he couldn’t stop himself from gripping the rim of the tub, as if to remind himself to give over easily and go with the motion of the waters as they splashed around him.

When it came to be Peacock’s turn, to all of our surprise, his head got barely held down, and he emerged cool and smirking, like this whole thing was barely an inconvenience to him. I held back my expression of pure repulsion, but thankfully Hwa-young didn’t feel the need to grant him such politeness, and the glare he got from her was enough to turn his face back to steel, though a note of self-assuredness stayed.

I filed the information away for later – one never knew when it could become useful, after all.

As soon as Peacock and his dragon were out of the way, Siwoo dutifully stepped up. Though he looked back towards us with fearful eyes, he held better than anyone yet, not even twitching under the pressure of the general’s hand, fingers balled into a fist and no doubt biting into the skin of his palms. I saw as she momentarily pushed harder, swaying the boy and dunking him further in, but he never broke.

When he emerged, it was with a glint of pride, and I had to respect him for the twitch of General’s face when she gazed upon him to send him away.

But then Hwa-young was next and the queasy feeling returned – because if she’d feel entitled to torture someone, it would be her. And I really didn’t want to witness that.

She climbed the stairs confident enough, and didn’t dignify the older woman with much anything – walked by quickly and knelt before the general had the chance to gesture for her – and I could see already Yan didn’t like that one bit.

Seeing Hwa get ‘cleansed’ was an actual ordeal of will and self-control. She tried her best to not panic, but it was obvious the moment she got submerged that the force of the hand surprised her and sent her into frenzy. I watched on as she desperately tried to keep her cool, but the longer she stayed, the more it took of her until her hands were desperately pushing against cold stone. Her back was tense and her knees locked on the hard ground, but she held on.

Just when I thought I couldn’t handle watching anymore, she was let go and emerged quickly, taking in quick loud breaths in between wracking coughs that sent her entire body jerking. And then Yong was there, holding a warm supporting hand to her shoulder and letting her lean onto her hip.

I felt myself untense as well, as soon as I saw how Hwa leant into the touch, how her muscles immediately gave up the fight for life and recognised safety again, leaving the girl hanging on limply and balancing on shaky beat-up knees.

She didn’t stand again for Yong’s turn, instead kneeling by the basin as well and watching how her dragoness took the humiliation with grace, holding so perfectly still you’d think she wasn’t even constricted under the water. It was obvious Ha-rin lost interest in her rather quickly and released her, and Yong broke the surface of the water like she was simply taking a shower, not even breaking the metaphorical sweat, and I marvelled at her briefly. And wondered – what exactly were Yong’s powers? Was this by chance related to them?

But then time for pondering was over, because Hwa was giving me an encouraging smile tinged with a taste of fear as she left the platform, and I felt the resolute tug of Jungkook setting on his way up the marble stairs.

Woodenly I followed after him, barely paying attention to anything else in the room except for the thrumming beat of my own heart. The walk up was terrifyingly short – the three steps were over in a flash, and before I knew I was faced with General Yan and her cruel smirk. She hasn’t looked this pleased until now, and a bad feeling sat into the pit of my stomach.

I knelt almost on instinct, after seeing the others do it so many times it just felt like the natural progression once I got to the top of the platform. I felt the tug on my sleeve as Jungkook’s fingers slipped free with my movement and he shifted to the side, but I knew his gaze was still firmly planted onto me.

I wanted to look towards him as well, but the calm waters welcomed me, the translucence drawing me in and overwhelming me with that strange eagerness, as if they couldn’t wait to have me choking on them and drowning in them. It sent a shiver through me and I instinctively tried to pull away, yet found myself frozen to the spot.

When rough fingers tangled into my hair, I almost startled at the suddenness, losing sight of the woman and not keeping up with her movements. I took a deep breath in just as the pain of someone yanking my hair spread through me and the world tilted, and then there was nothing but wet all-consuming darkness and a distinct lack of air.

It was hard to keep track of time down here, but I thought quite well of myself in those first few moments. I felt the need to fight and run rush through my body, felt my limbs jerk as the moment of panic took over, but then I willed myself calm and focused on counting the seconds.

But even as I desperately tried to keep count, the time slipped away and melted all into one long string, and when air started running out, suddenly everything felt both too slow and too fast, taking too long and going by too quickly, and I wanted to scream – scream out how it’s already been just as long as the others, that I deserved to get pulled out – but nothing but more darkness greeted me and for the first time I opened my eyes.

There was nothing to see in that dark cold basin – no light penetrated there, as if I was at the bottom of the ocean – and the water did kind of feel endless. It certainly was quite all-encompassing, in a way that left my throat tight with panic as its needy little fingers tried to pry my lips apart to steal the last of the air I had in my lungs.

The realisation that I ran out of breath kicked me like a horse, and I jerked – fully jerked, with my whole body, even as I tried to rationalise that I’d be pulled out soon.

Just as the thought managed to calm my beating heart slightly, I felt the yank on my hair dragging my head up. Filling my heart with hope. Right before I got plunged even deeper, until I felt the edge of the stone tub cutting into my ribs painfully. That was when panic truly took over.

I pushed against the hand, but felt it flex as its grip hardened, and fighting against it was almost like trying to break a wall with your bare hands. Blindly and in panic I felt along the smooth stone, trying to find anything to hold on to so that I could get a bit of leverage.

My body revolted, moving in a one big wave and trying to jerk away from the emotionless appendage, but my heels slipped on the damp marble and I just ended up bashing against the side of the tub, hurting myself even more and gasping out the last of the dying breath I held.

Water rushed in immediately and everything in me was overridden with pure fear of death so strong I could physically feel the adrenaline pump through my veins, but every twitch, every hopeless attempt brought me closer to the edge of my consciousness.

I tried to cry out, but everything was drowned out in the darkness and I barely saw anything. Something in me shouted that I was about to lose my life, my lungs screaming in pain about to burst, the punishing migraine destroying any sane thought I had until nothing but fear was left and the pure unadulterated hopelessness of the endeavour, until it was burned into my aching bones and I knew there was no coming out of this tub and – and then, a caress.

Like flipping a switch, the hungry devouring beast the water was suddenly changed into soft hands and fingers, pushing around and against my skin and cooling the heat of panic down. The fight drained from me, and I suddenly understood – the very first rider that went through this, I understood the moment his fingers slackened, the moment he lost the grip on the tub and gave in – I understood.

‘Water isn’t your enemy, child. You have been blessed by a creature of the sea. Trust it. Trust it.’

The soft feminine murmurs floated around my head, simultaneously coming in from the outside and sounding out from the inside, meshing together, and for the second time that evening Jimin’s face surfaced in the mirror of my mind and calm washed over me.

I was just about to open my mouth to speak back when suddenly I was dragged back up and instead of water air suddenly choked me and sent me into a fit of wheezing coughs. The freezing cold liquid streamed out of my mouth, pushed out of my lungs when I took a first breath in what felt like forever. Everything was hazy and my head spun, staticky fuzz crackling at the edges of my vision while I tried to make sense of where I was.

Slowly everything came back to me, and I realised I was being held by a panicking Jungkook who was desperately trying to get my attention – I registered his and Hwa-young’s voices all the way in the back of my mind while everything was still consumed by hum of blood rushing through my ears. With my hands still weak and uncoordinated, all I managed to do was pat at his shoulder to signal that I was okay, and reluctantly he let me sink down to the floor as I still attempted to fully catch my breath.

I was soaked from head to toe, most probably from the way I thrashed around, and the platform was all wet too. I laid there in the puddle and watched Jungkook gaze at me with fear, all the while the general’s dragoness kept repeating something with an angry expression on her face. I couldn’t hear, I barely even saw, but I figured she probably wanted Jungkook to take the spot to go through the cleansing too.

With the last threads of strength I found in myself I heaved myself up to my knees and shuffled to the side, leaving a nice spot for Jungkook to situate himself in. He was already on his knees from when he dived down to catch me, so he only hesitantly moved a few steps, eyes flicking between my half-dead form and the cruel being about to drown him in sacred waters.

When his head got submerged, I saw the way he jerked, just like I did from the shock of the rough movement, and without thinking I reached for his hand. I squeezed, hard enough to hurt, until I felt him squeeze back and his form relaxed slightly. I leant down on the tub, half lying on it with my hair grazing the water, and waited for him to come up.

And just like the general attempted to do to me, I saw Ha-rin slightly pull him up before plunging him even harder and deeper, just when he’d be about to run out of breath – but Jungkook was different. His hand left mine and quickly grabbed onto the edge of the tub, and when he braced and pushed up – I saw how Ha-rin’s arm clearly buckled, the self-assured expression slipping to a moment of shock and alarm, before she let go and Jungkook emerged with a fiery glint in his eyes.

I almost didn’t recognise him like that – with his wet hair slicked back his face looked much sharper, and the glistening sheen gave him an ethereal glow. Instead of the easy-going smile or a mischievous grin I was used to, his face was tight in a stormy expression, thick eyebrows drawn close and mouth twitching into a scowl. His eyes were dark, and I couldn’t fight back a shiver at seeing the growing anger in them.

That wasn’t the almost adorable and a little clumsy Jungkook, a young man that joked around with me – that was a dragon, centuries old, proud and strong and ready to fight anyone that posed a threat to him.

Ha-rin watched him with an expression I haven’t seen on her face yet that entire evening – and even though she tried to hide it, the trickle of unease and fear was visible in the cracks of her confident mask, and neither she could conceal the way her instincts pushed her to take a step back from the kneeling man.

General Yan watched their exchange in worry before she finally gestured for us to leave and barked a few orders for everyone to change into the prepared robes, all before both her and her bonded stalked off to a corner of the room.

Jungkook helped me stand, and when I looked at him, his face was back to normal. The anger melted away and left behind a kind smile as he wrapped me into a gentle embrace – one arm coiled around my waist held tightly while he helped me down the three steps.

At first I wanted to protest, tell him that I could walk on my own well, but the moment I rose to my shaky legs I realised that my knees wouldn’t be able to support me on the way down, as they were already buckling under the strain of my weight.

Everyone watched us, even when they pretended they weren’t, and I felt their eyes on our forms, the knowledge of them witnessing such a tender moment and seeing my weakness sending unease crawling up my skin. Jungkook didn’t seem to care though, not with how he immediately sat me down the moment we reached the floor and started tugging at my robes to take them off.

I only had a few seconds to register what he was doing to get flustered beyond belief before Hwa-young ran over and knelt next to me.

“Gods, are you okay?” she whispered and frantically looked me over, as if I could be hiding any injuries from her, “For a moment you truly looked dead. You just slumped over and didn’t move at all. Even Yan freaked out before she pulled you up.” I barely listened to her, instead my attention was snatched by trying to fight Jungkook’s hands still stubbornly undoing my robes, but he wouldn’t budge and wouldn’t let me do it myself, so our hands just endlessly bumped into each other while I tried to push them off with burning cheeks.

“I didn’t even lose consciousness,” I told her absent-mindedly, “I think it just looked bad because I panicked right before she spoke to me.” Jungkook’s hands paused momentarily before he resumed, but even before I registered it Hwa-young already spoke again.

“Spoke to you?” she asked, completely confused. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, a high whistle shot through the room, startling us into twirling around.

“Change! We don’t have the whole night!” Yan’s strong voice berated us, and everyone scurried off to get themselves into the ceremonial robes. I noticed the young knightess’ curious worried glances, but at that moment chose to channel my attention into pushing Jungkook’s hands away – until I finally succeeded and motioned for him to worry about his own clothes.

Everyone worked is silence, the room filled with sounds of rustling fabrics and clinking armour, only soft murmurs carrying through from where Siwoo was whispering about something with his dragon.

Jungkook was watching me like a hawk, like if he let me out of his sight for just a moment I might die, which greatly staggered his own changing speed – an action he seemed to do almost absent-mindedly as his gaze burned into me, and brought both embarrassment and confusion to the fore-front of my mind.

I attempted to ignore him and stripped down to my undergarments, now suddenly noticing others in similar state of undress messing with the robes all flustered and unsure – not one of them had donned them yet, and I woodenly turned to look towards the general.

She was watching us with disdain in her eyes, like we were all a bunch of bumbling idiots, before she gestured for us to strip – completely. A hush fell over the room as we eyed each other, some flustered and embarrassed, some mistrustful and disgusted. I fell somewhere in-between those two categories, depending on who my eye was on at the moment.

Peacock was also watching me quite closely after the cleansing incident, and my skin was crawling with the idea of him watching my naked body, no matter how his gaze reflected nothing but scorn and arrogance. I definitely wasn’t about to strip right in front of him, and especially not with how Jungkook suddenly seemed much more ruffled and started shuffling to situate himself between me and the rest of the room.

Pointedly I didn’t look at him, willing my wildly beating heart to calm down at the dark look in his eyes – telling myself this is nothing more than instincts – instincts that were triggered by him panicking about my safety that now pushed him into a much more protective stance over his chosen rider. Dragons were like that, and that was all that was happening, nothing more.

“Go on, strip,” the general’s grating voice once again rose in the silence, a sound which I already hated with burning passion, “you’re one unit, soldiers need to learn to share everything – nudity shouldn’t be an issue for you. You’ll have bigger problems to tackle.” Her statement was vaguely ominous, but it was right – when it came to life or death, nudity truly was the least of our problems. Changing, shitting, fucking – once on the battlefield, all illusion of privacy was gone and you’d quickly learn to ignore and accept it.

With that in mind, I decided that getting it over with was the only option here and ripped off the band-aid – almost literally, with how forcefully I tore the undergarments off my body, shocking a little noise out of Jungkook’s throat.

With burning cheeks I quickly put the white robe on, and only turned around once it was safely fastened into place. The dragon was watching me with wide eyes, cheeks similarly red. His hair glistened with the wetness, and it really brought out the purple metallic sheen to it, throwing off little pinkish reflections that danced across the grey marble floor. He was shirtless, hands frozen on the knot fastening his trousers, naked feet standing on the freezing floor without a single sign of feeling the biting cold.

As if woken up from trance, Jungkook suddenly turned back into motion, resuming the action of undressing. He didn’t turn away from me, in fact his eyes didn’t even leave mine, as I saw the split second the garment gave way and started slipping before I shot my gaze up, settling on watching the rough stone ceiling right above his shoulder. I couldn’t see into the room around him, but by the sound it was safe to assume everyone was getting on with the task as well.

After that it didn’t take long before we were all standing around in our white robes, some more cocky and some more unsure, but all stepping around like a bunch of lost children.

Yan let us be for a little bit, let the tension and the unease build in the atmosphere. The only ones who were calm were the older dragons – out of the six of them, I could see another one that must have been young enough to not know what was coming, while the other four stood comfortably by their bonded’s sides.

Jungkook was slipping back into his more jittery self, a little smile playing on his face out of nervousness, though I was sure he knew more about what was to come than me – after all, his thunder would surely tell him what to expect. I wished I had the courage to turn to him and ask, wished I had the chance to speak to him before this all happened so he could share his knowledge.

Wished I could have asked his thunder and have them prepare me too. I wanted to know how it felt – I was scared, foolishly so.

Yan finally had enough, or maybe the time just became right for us to move, but she suddenly launched into a march, motioning us into following her with a single gesture thrown over her shoulder. Somehow we’d ended up at the front, with Hwa and Yong right behind us, as we trudged back up those stairs and down winding hallways in this behemoth of a castle.

As we passed by the banquet hall, it was empty – only scattered chairs and tables full of food and drinks left there, as if everyone disappeared within a blink of an eye and this was all that was left of their presence – and for a split second I found myself wishing that was true.

The truth was that they were already waiting outside, gathered around the sanctuary in silence as we walked barefoot on the cold ground, dirt staining our soles and stones digging into them painfully.

I felt myself shiver, the cold wind whipping around us as we walked around the top of the rocks, and the deafening hum of waves crashing against the cliffs under us almost drowned out everything else. Mixed together with the low murmurs of the townsfolk gathered, it was hard to hear anything else.

The way towards the ceremonial sanctuary was lined with flowers, and had I more time and was in the correct headspace, I’d probably name them all. Currently I was too nervous to even pay too much attention to them.

I never thought I’d say that, but I was so grateful for getting the opportunity to meet the emperor before this, because I couldn’t imagine this being my introduction to him. He stood proudly in the little gazebo, dressed in golden ceremonial robes, face tight and regal and eyes almost burning. If I didn’t know any better, with the backdrop of the stormy darkened skies and the wind whipping around his face, I’d almost say he was magick.

Against my better judgement, a shudder ran through me at the image, a semblance of fear gripping me lightly before I shook it off.

He spoke, but his words didn’t quite reach me – lost to the endless whirlwind of noise around us, though I could hear his voice carrying above the elements. His arm rose, beckoning, fiery gaze locking straight onto me before an ugly grin split his face.

There was a push to my back, and suddenly I realised we still stood at the very front of the procession and therefore were the first in line.

Jungkook was already moving, proudly holding his chin high as he set out towards our fate, and I scrambled to follow after him and to keep up. As the distance shortened, my nerves mounted – not in any particularly bad way, but the anticipation of what this meant coursed through me and made my heart beat out of my chest.

I struggled to read the dragon’s face – I wouldn’t say he was expressionless, but the kind smile he wore every time he looked to me was still plastered to his face as he turned to check I was with him. Jungkook looked no different than he always did. Unbothered, unburdened. I let that anchor me as I jogged to catch up to him.

The emperor’s figure was steadily approaching us, the intricate details of his golden embroidered robe became more visible, much as the expression on his face. It was hard to say what it looked like to others, how much attention they were even paying to him, but something deeply unsettled me about the fire burning in his eyes.

Hungry and expectant. Excited, even.

He watched us with the craze of a proud artist looking at his greatest piece. Like an arsonist gazes at a fire.

I didn’t like it.

My gaze shifted and instead I caught the eye of my father who stood near the front, turned so he could watch me walk. His glare was full of warning, disapprovingly jumping between me and the tenderly smiling Jungkook, and I knew exactly what he’d tell me. It was better to not imagine it.

Thus I pulled my focus back and poured it all into Jungkook. There was an innate pull inside of me to reach for his hand again, yearning for that brief but intense contact, but I hesitated to do so in front of so many people.

It wasn’t unusual to fuck your dragons, but affection? That was deemed beneath us.

As I was going through my internal crisis, I didn’t even notice when we crossed the entire distance until I felt the cold ground under my feet transform into the freezing stone. A shudder ran through me, shocking a little gasp out of my mouth, and immediately Jungkook reeled in on the sound. I could see that his instincts were going into overdrive again, eyes darkening like I could be deathly threatened by stone. The wind was whipping his curly hair around and as usual it was all tangled up into his little horns.

Not wanting a repeat of the cave, I ignored him and instead reluctantly looked to the emperor hoping he’d give us instructions on how to proceed.

The gazebo inside felt a lot smaller than it looked from the outside. There really wasn’t much space to move around, especially not with Jungkook’s mass at my side and the emperor’s wide shoulders at the other, but I guess there wasn’t really much reason to have a lot of space. Exactly in the centre of the circular space stood another basin with water, this one tall and thin with a single leg and a small bowl at the top. The altar.

At least no one could drown me in this one, small victories.

I could tell Jungkook was having the same thoughts, his hard stare boring into the side of it like it was a weapon of mass destruction.

But then my attention was once again snatched by the ruler, who slowly walked around us, to stand in the middle and look out into the yard. Me and Jungkook ended up on either side of the little bowl, looking to each other and hoping for any kind of solace offered with soft smiles on unsure lips.

Suddenly Jungkook was holding his hands above the water, fingers twitching and beckoning me to take them. I hesitated a little, the same thought from before shortly surfacing in my mind, but then I realised this was a part of the ritual. The several bonding ceremonies I witnessed before shuffled through my memory, but I could barely remember anything with how my nerves ate me from inside.

I grasped the dragon’s hands quickly, not wanting to be seen stalling to touch him, especially not when I couldn’t explain myself properly, and he gripped me tightly. There was a lot of reassurance in it, but there wasn’t any time to dwell on it.

The emperor draped a thin long strip of embroidered fabric over our joined hands, reminding me of old marriage ceremonies – and though that was a type of bonding too, it still brought a blush to my face. I kept my gaze pointed down, taking in the practiced graceful movements on the man’s golden hands, getting so lost in the showman gestures I jerked when suddenly his voice boomed right by our side.

“Under the vigilant eyes of the Moon Goddess,” the man spoke with a performative lilt to his voice, letting his head fall back as his arms rose up to the sky dramatically, “we humbly ask for a blessing of this sacred bond.”

A shiver wracked through me, strong enough to have me almost stumbling where I stood, and I felt Jungkook do the same. A string of silver moonlight fell through the roof to right where our hands touched, hidden beneath the ceremonial cloth, and it seemed to heat up – almost like we gave off energy just by being touched by it. The fire spread through my veins, and it was just as pleasant as concerning, always on the edge of pain and pouring through my body so quick it didn’t give me time to catch up.

I gasped for a breath, saw Jungkook’s wild eyes jump to me at the sound, and the moment our eyes met everything went fuzzy. Light was dancing over his skin, running in mesmerising patterns and bringing out the honey tone. His hand twitched, almost crushing my own fingers – and then a wave suddenly rose in me – and I realised the light was manifestation of magick.

“Mind to mind, soul to soul,” the emperor’s voice rose with every word, and I wanted to flinch away from him – because it felt like everything was suddenly amplified, grating at my nerves every time his voice boomed in my already sensitive ringing ears.

“Dagger to fang, sword to claw!” the man was screaming now, the winds beating around us and the crashes of the waves below us creating a cacophony that made me want scream too, and I found myself unable to even open my mouth under the strain of the strange energy flowing through me to Jungkook and back.

I felt him under my skin, felt him flowing through my veins. The scent of a smoky wood, maybe sandalwood or cedar, with a metallic iron-like undertone flooded my senses – I could almost taste gunpowder on my tongue with its fiery heaviness. I didn’t know it yet, but it was the scent I would come to know as Jungkook from then on – as my perception heightened.

“Unite them! Unite them under your divine light!” shouted the man, and light burst in front of my eyes.

For a few moments after that I couldn’t feel anything else than the thrum of Jungkook’s blood while his hands crushed mine in a steel grip as the frantic magickal frenzy circulating through our bodies reached its crescendo. Static hummed in my ears, a high whistling sound cutting through and biting painfully into my already hurting head. Then as soon as it started it was over, like an aftermath of a tornado tearing through your house – when the winds started to settle and all that was left was the wreckage. My sight slowly started coming back – and my breath got caught in my throat.

Jungkook was looking at me with wide eager eyes, the magick still crackling around him with little fizzles of light that made his skin glow golden and his hair look like a black lit halo. I felt myself zero in on the young dragon, a pull so strong I felt it jerk me closer to him and I made a little confused sound. That made him jerk closer in return, and we both barrelled into the stone basin.

Later, when my mind was clear, I’d be embarrassed of that little display we put on, but at the moment I couldn’t comprehend or care about anything beyond the way emotions spilled into me – emotions that weren’t mine, but that screamed excitement and hope and pure bottomless love for everything so strong I stumbled under the force of that.

Then Jungkook was side-stepping the altar and gathering me into his arms, effortlessly pulling me off my feet and marching confidently into the castle leaving a shocked silence behind us.

My mind hurt under the extension of the second soul, and every Jungkook’s thought that jumped into my mind just muddled my brain further. I felt the beat of his heart underlining mine, the pattern of his breaths in my own lungs, everywhere we touched was lit on fire and I burned.

I was dizzy. And the dragon was an excited ball of endless chatter – I’ll help you, I’ll care for you, my bonded, I feel you, I see you, my human, mine, mine, mine – all spilling over into me, and I groaned.

An undetermined amount of time later I was set down on a comfortable sofa, and I immediately lied down. Seconds and minutes spilt into each other, and I wasn’t capable of saying how much time passed, or even how fast it was currently passing. The nausea pulled me to the ground and all my limbs jerked and twitched under the current of energy and magick. I’ve never been subjected to raw power like that before, and I had no idea about the kind of effect bonding souls could have on you. Shouldn’t it have been a happy occasion? Why did I feel like a drunk after a particularly wild all-night bender?

Someone was speaking, but all I could hear was Jungkook’s stuttered breathing, his heartbeat quickening in worry and the sick feeling of his fear poured over onto me. I jerked once, then heaved, then jerked again.

Warm glove-clad hands clasped firmly at my shoulders and I was pulled on my back. Someone ran their hand over my forehead, gathering the wet hair (whether from the cleansing or sweat, I had no idea, and I didn’t particularly care) and giving my cheek a soft caress. The tender gesture was unfamiliar to me, but I found myself sinking into that gentle hand, too instinct driven to worry about propriety.

“Jungkook, calm down,” a deep stable voice said, my attention immediately pulled at the mention of my bonded’s name, “You need to keep your emotions stable, you’re making her sick.” A pained whine was an answer, and I jerked in that tender embrace with the instinct to go and help him put the hurt away. Whoever was holding me though didn’t let me move an inch and firmly pushed me back into the furnishing.

My stomach started rolling again and I was suddenly very aware that a steady current of tears was leaking out of my closed eyes. A soft hush, a hum, and then those tears were being wiped away with a warm cloth, and I untensed.

I could still feel Jungkook’s tumultuous emotions warring in him, I could almost see his tense figure standing over me and watching me with those dark intense eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually look with how everything spun the last time I tried.

Shuffling was heard, more soft whispers that I couldn’t discern and then a burningly hot hand clasped around my naked ankle, sending a wave of electricity through my nervous system. The moment I felt Jungkook’s touch it was like everything bad in me quietened.

“…the strength of the connection… the bond is… they will be very heightened… very, very strong it seems…” words floated in and out of my mind, Namjoon’s deep calming drawl working like magick on me and putting me more at ease, though I could barely comprehend what he was saying. Jungkook was responding with little eager chirps and hums, and that was all I cared about in that moment.

Just as I was about to completely wind down, the doors flew open so hard they hit the wall. Chillingly familiar footsteps marched in, and I didn’t even have to open my eyes to see who it was – I’d recognise that fury anywhere. My father’s booming voice sounded through the room, but I couldn’t discern the words through the new over-powering wave of fear and nausea that hit me, this time fully my own.

Not even those firm hands could hold me down as I jerked to the side and threw up all over the floor. Instead they kept me steady and patted my back, and for the first time in long painful years I felt cared for.

Funny what a little benign touch can do to you, really.

The general’s footsteps walked closer again and then a loud hostile growl sounded through the room, making everyone freeze. Jungkook.

“Keep the mutt in his place, dragon,” the human man said, with such disdain in his voice I felt embarrassed on his behalf.

With considerable effort I pulled my eyes open, and though I was still a little dizzy and looked through a haze of pained tears, at least the world stood still over me. Those firm warm hands turned out to be Hoseok’s, and really I should have known with the ease that came to them when handling a sick person, though the dragon himself was watching me with a deeply troubled expression – a huge contrast to the gentle touch.

Seokjin’s face floated above mine, worry etched into it quite openly to my great surprise, as his gloved hands held a little handkerchief clutched in them. Taehyung was also in my field of vision, the second youngest dragon bending over the backrest of the sofa to look closer at me with deep soulful eyes. I shuddered at the look of boundless empathy in them, and turned quickly to locate my bonded.

Jungkook sat crumpled on the floor by my feet, one hand still firmly clasped over my ankle and looking very unapologetic even as Namjoon’s huge hand gripped the back of his neck and kept him immobile. The thunder leader was kneeling right by him, and he must have previously been trying to comfort him so he wouldn’t make me sicker, but now his attention was fully on my father, and he was not happy.

For some reason my instincts called me to locate the last two dragons of the thunder, and I strained my eyes to search for them before I addressed the elephant in the room. It didn’t take me long, thankfully, since both of them stood just a little away from the scene, closer to the corner of the room (which, I didn’t even recognise where we were in the castle, and I really hoped Jungkook didn’t just blindly run into the first lounge he saw). Jimin stood there with fear written in his eyes, and worry too, but they were trained on Jungkook – as if he was completely oblivious to anything else that was happening in the room. His hands were trembling where he held them, and he was a picture of pure despair. Yoongi looked deceptively calm, but I could see the storm brewing under his skin like little shadows dancing – and for once I wasn’t the one his ire was directed at.

My father stood there in the middle of it all, angry and full of hate, gaze burning into me. I knew he had a lot to say, and I knew he wouldn’t wait to let me hear it. And I knew the dragons wouldn’t leave now, not when Jungkook seemed to be in some sort of instinct driven haze, so I just resigned myself to this happening right now in front of everyone.

“What was that about!?” the general hissed out, shaking with barely contained rage and pointing towards Jungkook who already had a beginning of a scowl on his face before Namjoon grabbed his mouth and covered it with his second hand so that nothing else slipped out. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

I just blinked at the man and wordlessly tried to push myself into a sitting position even though everything in me protested the notion – especially when it dislodged Jungkook’s hold on me and the dragon jerked and chased any kind of contact. Hoseok didn’t lessen his hold on me, and even pulled my feet closer to him to prevent me from stepping into my own vomit, for which I was endlessly grateful cause I almost managed to hit square into the middle of the puddle.

“Nobody else fucking even blinked! And you make a whole scene?!” the general continued, completely lost in his own world and with face so red he’d blend in perfectly into that awful sitting room the emperor loved so much. “Running out hand in hand like a pair of giggling lovers?! Do you truly wish so hard to embarrass me?! I thought we were over this!”

I pursed my lips and sat there with my head hung low, biding my time knowing well he wasn’t done yet. The dragons seemed to be frozen, casting curious worried glances between me and everyone else in the room, but none of them moved a single inch like they were trying to escape the man’s attention and trick him into forgetting they were there.

From someone who grew up with him – it was a pretty decent strategy when it came to the general’s tantrums.

“I sat there through all other five ceremonies, and everyone walked away on their own two feet! You should have seen the way people snickered and whispered at you! How am I supposed to show my face in the council tomorrow!?”

Then the man started agitatedly walking around the room, hand pressed into his red heated forehead, eyes wild and unseeing. In the moment of silence that followed everyone’s eyes turned to me, curious for my turn.

“How did I wind up with a child like you?” the man muttered suddenly, so vicious I saw Jungkook tremble, and I hoped he wasn’t reacting to the war of emotions currently boiling in my chest.

“Father,” I cut through the tense atmosphere, sensing my opportunity there. I quickly rose to my feet, fighting to stay upright and not lean on Hoseok’s shoulder when a wave of dizziness hit me. The white robe I put on before did nothing to hide me from cold now that all adrenaline drained out of my body, and I started shivering. My father’s eyes speared me right through, and under their careful watch I walked into the middle of the room, still looking only at him.

“Don’t you understand?” I asked softly, not wishing to antagonise him, but trying to play genuineness as long as I could get away with it. I desperately wracked my brain for anything to offer him when the words spoken by Namjoon earlier slammed into me in a quick and sudden revelation, now putting two and two together with my mind clearer and survival instincts pushing to the front. I hated the way my stomach rolled when I realised what I had to do.

“The way me and Jungkook reacted to each other means our bond is exceptionally strong.”

Nervously my eyes shifted to the thunder sitting and standing around the room. All of them cautiously monitored the situation, eyes flitting between me and the volatile angry man still pacing back and forth, looking like a caged tiger about to attack. I saw as Namjoon’s eyes slowly darkened as he caught on what I was saying, and I looked away before it could tear my heart apart.

I swallowed my pride, swallowed my feelings, swallowed the rising bile that my revolting stomach pushed out once more, swallowed my expectations, swallowed my hope, and stood closer to the man to tempt him with the only thing he couldn’t refuse. Power.

“Imagine the potential, father,” I whispered to him, like a siren calling onto his desires, “Imagine the power I will wield with him. I can soar to such heights, father. Gain the emperor’s favour, maybe I could even marry him.” That had the man stopping dead in his tracks.

I knew those words would work on him, because I knew the outlook he held on marriages. I protested against mentions of any arrangements every chance I got, but thankfully with focusing on my military career it wasn’t a topic that was pressing or brought up too often. Insinuating that I would want to marry the emperor though, on my own without him pushing me, those were promises that sounded so sweet to the greedy man. He’d fall for them every time.

In a few steps he was in front of me, firm hand grabbing onto my cheek as he grinned savagely. His touch was meant to serve the same purpose as Hoseok’s earlier, and yet it didn’t hold any of the warmth or tenderness the dragon granted me. His hand was rough with years of labour and fighting, hardened by wielding a sword for most of his life, and it scratched along my face in a way that was deeply unpleasant.

The general’s eyes looked right through me. I could almost see the cogs turning in his head, calculating, planning, counting his gains, and for a moment I felt a biting pang of hurt shoot through my chest knowing that even now, even when I offered him what he wanted from me the most – for our descendants to be of royal blood – he wasn’t really proud of me, not in the way that a parent should. Instead, he thought of himself, always and till the end. I’d always be an afterthought.

Maybe it was because the situation was so volatile, maybe it was because my emotions and my heart felt especially vulnerable after the ceremony and were already running wild, but more than ever I saw how he never thought of us with an ounce of affection, always wielding us like weapons in his chase for power and riches. I always knew, I swore I did. I thought I’d long since passed the days when I hoped for a smile or kind words, that I’ve long given up on caring about his opinions of me – and yet I always found new ways to surprise myself and break my own heart.

Tears sprung up in my eyes as I smiled back at him. I did desperately try to blink them away but my lips still curled in a way so savage and hurt – and he didn’t see me at all.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, Y/N,” the man said finally, completely turning the page from his earlier outburst, “I expected nothing less of you than utter greatness.” It’s like he never remembered his earlier words, or maybe cared so little he didn’t understand why they’d sting – always just walking away and leaving you standing there with your heart burnt to crisp. And today was no exception. Without any further words he turned on his heel and without sparing anyone a single glance marched out, so pleased with himself it was hard to watch.

I stood there, in the utter silence he left behind, head hung low in shame as I broke apart for the countless time. I couldn’t bear to see what was written on the dragon’s faces, couldn’t bear to see to lose even the last threads of worry they might have shown me. I couldn’t bear the disappointment, and I couldn’t bear the weight of Jungkook’s wide-eye stare.

My chest burned, but I could barely feel any emotion from his side. I wondered what he felt from me. I hoped nothing.

The fresh, sour adrenaline fizzled out of my system and before I knew it, it was like strings on a marionette were cut and I was stumbling, my knees buckling as if my body abruptly realised it couldn’t operate right now. Just as suddenly the whole world dimmed before my eyes and everything caught up to me, the weight of the emotional toll pulling me to the ground. A sharp zap of pain travelled through me, turning everything to static, and then I was falling as my consciousness slowly slipped away at the edges.

I still hoped, but there was no one to break my fall.

I woke up in the infirmary. The place was mostly unfamiliar to me, but it was unmistakable – if not by the surroundings, then by the heavily herbal scent that clung onto the air and permeated everywhere.

It took a moment for reality to catch up to me as I laid there with cotton-filled head and bleary eyes still glued together by the remnants of sleep. My ears seemingly caught up first because all I could focus on were two nurses whispering gossip to each other in the corner of the room, and I was maybe two minutes into listening about her sister’s cheating husband when I realised I shouldn’t even be able to hear them talk.

That had waking me up pretty quickly, my body freezing over in shock – and the realisation that I heard things no human should be able to hear – like the chatter of four knights under the closed windows, or the slow methodical clinking of someone stirring something in a ceramic cup at the other side of the room. Or the steady breathing of someone sitting right by my side.

When I turned my head to the side to look at the visitor, Jungkook’s eyes were already trained on me – and yes, of course, he would have felt me wake up. He must have been waiting for me to become more aware.

The young dragon sat awkwardly straight in his little wooden chair, looking like there was whole books worth of what he wanted to say, but something prevented him from opening his mouth and talking.

My eyes zeroed in on him, and it was like I was seeing him properly for the first time. I could discern the individual lovably messy strands of his purplish black hair, I could see the little imperfections on his skin, I could see that his eyes actually had little specks of silver in them. He was wringing his hands in his lap, and as soon as my gaze dropped down to his tattooed forearms, I was blown away by the detail and the vivid colouring that I’ve never quite seen like that.

Trying to centre myself and pull my attention back, I closed my eyes without saying anything and instead focused on the warm little ball in my chest that I came to recognise as Jungkook’s side of the bond. Briefly I wondered whether he felt the bond the same way I did. How did it manifest for him?

In my mind I gently caressed that fuzzy happy bundle, and in return I was flooded with the young dragon’s careful enthusiasm and worry. He was keeping himself in check, most probably because he didn’t want to overwhelm me with his emotions again, but there was no trace of the anger, betrayal or mistrust I was fearing.

Opening my eyes again I took one long look at his face and then said: “I hear everything, like… absolutely everything. And I see better too.” Jungkook smiled and eagerly shuffled the chair closer to me to lean in like we were trading secrets.

“After the bond takes hold, your senses sharpen slightly to match the dragon’s,” he explained in a cheery voice, winking quickly when he caught my eye, “at least that’s what Namjoon hyung said.”

I vaguely remembered knowing that and thinking about it earlier, but now the information struggled to come up when I reached for it. After waking up with the bond it felt like everything in my brain got scrambled and reshuffled into different places.

It was like I was someone completely new.

“Which reminds me,” Jungkook jumped back into his cheerful little monologue, tearing me out of my confused musings, “that the hyungs are waiting outside. I should let them know you’re up.” At those words icy cold fear poured through my whole body and I jerked with the panic taking a hold in my heart.

“Jungkook, wait-“ I only got a few words out before I heard the door quietly creak open, two pairs of strong footsteps confidently walking in. My bonded sat on the chair and watched me with increasingly more worry when he started clocking in my state of terror, and I cursed how easy it would be for him to read me now.

The man reached for my hand with an apologetic expression just as Hoseok and Namjoon walked into view and moved straight towards us. My frantic eyes flew over their postures and expressions, but I couldn’t read anything from them – they held themselves perfectly collected – perfectly detached just the right amount.

Hoseok only slightly inclined his head in a greeting and went immediately to the side unoccupied by Jungkook to check on my status. When his gloved hands made contact with my skin, I held my breath nervously. He wasn’t rough by any means, but any warmth those magickal hands held before was now all gone, and it hurt me enough to almost make me cry. Jungkook squeezed my wrist gently but didn’t say anything, and I stayed quiet too. Instead I told myself that this sudden emotional attachment simply came with the bond too and pushed it all away.

The nature dragon worked quickly, skilled fingers flying over my forehead, checking my pulse and hovering over my chest to make sure everything was in working order. After a few minutes of tense silence as we all watched him, he finally stepped back and wordlessly nodded at Namjoon before he turned to me with a strained smile.

“Young Miss Kang,” Namjoon then spoke, taking the first chance he could to draw my attention and say his piece, “there’s been some changes in arrangements.” That sentence alone was enough to scare the absolute shit out of me, and paired with the solemn firm expression on the dragon’s face I was fully expecting him to tell me I was no longer welcome to bond Jungkook.

Namjoon’s next words shocked me though.

“I’ve spoken to your father while you were unconscious. He’s met with the emperor and they decided it would be for the best for you to not move into the barracks like others, but instead stay closer to Jungkook,” he got all out in one breath, like he was trying to prevent me from jumping in. I had a lot of experience with staying silent while others were speaking though, so I just looked at him expectantly whether there was more.

The tall man watched me for a few moments, inquisitive eyes burning through me curiously, before he stepped a little closer to Jungkook to put a hand on his shoulder. The younger dragon immediately relaxed and leaned into his thunder leader, though his hand never left mine, even as I felt his heart stutter with love through my own chest.

God, this was starting to weird me out a little.

“We will be able to vacate you a spot in our house,” Namjoon continued after a moment, considerably slower now that he saw I was willing to just listen quietly, “It’s a bit further away from the castle than your house, but the emperor wishes for you to be as close to the thunder as possible.” Much displeasure flickered through his face, and I frowned.

Why would the emperor insist on something like that? I would understand it if it was just Jungkook, but the whole thunder? I couldn’t even make the case that he didn’t want to separate the youngling from his mated pack, because that would be too considerate of the man and he wasn’t capable of such silly things like empathy.

I watched the three dragons with a heavy heart and quickly realised why the two were being so polite and standoffish. They thought I was under full protection of the emperor and any unkindness that would happen to me would be reported and punished. I sighed deeply and looked towards the tall dragon.

“Autho- I mean, Namjoon-ssi,” I stumbled through the words, throat a little drier and sorer than before the men stepped inside the room, “I couldn’t possibly trespass into your thunder’s house, but I thank you for the invitation. I will personally speak with the emperor and petition for a different solution, so your pack can keep their space uninvaded.” I realised that my words definitely didn’t help my case, but when the relationship between me and the rest of the Bangtan thunder was already so rocky, I couldn’t imagine moving onto their property would make it any better.

The Authority gave me a weary look, suddenly looking way more tired and worn down than I’ve ever seen him, with how the power seemed to sap out of him and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“There’s no need to go through the trouble, Young Miss Kang,” he spoke quietly and gave me a resigned smile, though there was nothing friendly about it – quite the opposite it seemed, actually, “The emperor is set on this, and your father readily agrees. With the strength of the bond, they both want you two close so it can solidify.”

Shame and guilt hit me like a whole mountain fell on me, and I froze with my gaze glued to my lap. There it was, those words. The anger. And because I was a coward, I couldn’t bring myself to raise my eyes and look at the man. Instead I stayed curled in on myself, like the spineless rat they probably thought me to be.

I saw Hoseok’s form squirming to my left and Jungkook sitting still to my right, looking to his leader with a soft disapproving expression, and it was so foreign to his face I wanted to kick myself for putting it there. I shouldn’t be putting him into a position where stood against his thunder.

“Very well then,” I whispered finally, deciding it might be best to just go along and hope for the best, “I’ll need to go gather my things and pack up the essentials, but I could meet you by your house in a few hours.”

“There’s no need,” Namjoon’s rumbly voice spoke up the second I closed my mouth, “Your room at your house has already been packed up and moved by your servants. All of your things are waiting for you in our sitting room.”

My gaze flew up in surprise, and I barely clocked the displeased frown residing on the dragon’s face as he spoke to me. “How long have I slept?”

I turned to Jungkook with the question, but it was Hoseok who chimed in with “a little over two days”. It was the first time I heard his voice in what felt like weeks, so the moment I recognised it I was turning to him with surprise written all over my face. Something flickered in my chest, my mind very unhelpfully supplying the memory of his gentle caress, and I shut that down quickly before Jungkook sniffed it out. Then the words sunk in.

“What?!” I yelped out, jumping to sit upright and scaring the absolute shit out of the nature dragon standing by my side, “More than two days!? I thought it was maybe a few hours!” Namjoon was watching the red-headed dragon clutch his chest and calm down with a soft look, while Jungkook turned to me with his sparkling puppy eyes.

“Hobi-hyung said it’s normal,” he told me, and I could see he was now way prouder that he could go back to taking care of me, which brought a slight blush onto my face.

“No, I said it was understandable for the situation,” Hoseok corrected him when he turned back to the two of us, faced also a little flushed, “Usually when the bond is so heavy when settling down, it requires a lot of peace and care for the person to come out well. It was a really stressful situation, so her body shut down to recalibrate on its own.” He gave me an awkward half-smile and then mumbled something about medicine and high-tailed it out of there, leaving us to our uncomfortable little corner.

As he sped away, there was a clinking sound floating around him, and I realised that he had several charms and beads woven around his antler-like horns that created cheerful little sounds as he moved around, quite literally making music out of the tempo and rhythm of his walk. I found that it fit him very well.

“Peace and care,” I mumbled under my breath as my attention turned back to the conversation. My eyes fell on the silent Jungkook watching me something a little sad in his gaze, and it was so obvious he felt everything I did those two days ago in that cursed little lounge I had to avert my eyes in the face of it.

That at least explained why the dragons had suddenly shown me such gentleness. They were trying to make me well because they knew I needed to calm down.

Ignoring the fact that Jungkook now knew more than I was willing to admit to anyone, I looked towards Namjoon and nodded firmly.

“Okay, I’m ready to go.”

The walk from the castle grounds to the dragons’ townhouse was understandably an incredibly awkward affair. Hoseok silently joined us as we were walking down one of the many hallways, hand clutching a satchel containing something in glass bottles, based on how it rang with every movement. The man paid it no mind though, a faraway look in his eyes while he was clearly lost in thought.

Jungkook refused to let go of me, and because I couldn’t bear the weight of holding hands I let him loosely hold onto my wrist, which he did delicately with three of his fingers wrapped around the bony part (the better option, really, because he was capable of trying to persuade me to let him carry me). Namjoon walked in front, unapologetic and firm, not sparing us a single glance. He knew we would follow him.

Now having much more time to look around than the last time I visited, this time I truly took the house in. It was a fairly nice one, though definitely felt too small for seven adult men. There was a little courtyard beyond the gates that lead towards the main entrance inside, and another square courtyard sat inside as the heart of the house. There was a tiny one-room house a little ways away from the main building, sitting alone in a corner. Usually servants would inhabit it, but here it surely wasn’t more than a storage room, or a garden shed.

There were three bedrooms in the house – one bigger one, and two considerably smaller. Namjoon, now joined by Jin by his side, led me to the big room and waved me inside. Even as tidy as it was, it still felt completely stuffed with all kinds of things and trinkets and gadgets and columns of books, not even speaking of the clothes that were popping out of any closet space and any chest they had there. It was painfully small to hold everything in.

“This is my, Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s room,” the oldest dragon spoke, surprisingly gently considering his expression was very neutral, “it might take a few hours, but we’ll have it ready for you by the evening, so you can sleep here.” I was opening my mouth before I even fully processed what he just told me.

“Absolutely not,” it came out of my mouth a little harsher than intended in my haste to disagree, and I felt Namjoon’s disapproving gaze even without seeing him, “I mean- This is the biggest room in the house, and three of you live here. I can’t push you out. I’ll think of something, and I can sleep in the sitting room or even the dining area. I won’t force you out of your bedroom.” My words were met with a tense silence, but at least they weren’t protesting – clearly they were against it too, but felt strong-armed into coddling me out of fear I was a spoilt little brat.

Without waiting for them to speak, I turned and walked back down the stairs taking everything in carefully. The other dragons were home too and I could sense them watching me from every corner of the house, but I was too busy trying to find a little corner where I could hide myself away and not throw their whole household into a disarray. Just because my father felt the need to showcase his power and his standing. What a stupid fucking reason to break apart someone’s life for.

As I was walking towards the main entrance again, I passed by the little backyard – and saw the servant house again.

Footsteps shuffled across the floor and then there was a warm presence by my side, so assuming it was Jungkook I asked without turning: “Do you have anything in there?”

“Hobi-hyung has his gardening things there, but otherwise it’s pretty empty.” The deep honey-like voice shocked me to my core, and I swung around only to come face to face with Taehyung and his blueish grey curious eyes. His curly locks fell around his head in what I would call perfect manner, giving him a crown of dark dark crimson around his perfectly sculpted expressionless face.

The dragon’s aura pressed into me full force from all sides as he tilted his head to continue taking me in, and I blushed with having so much of his attention on me. There was something about him that just pulled you in, and no matter how hard you tried it was almost impossible to tear your gaze away from his eyes. Gentle floral scent pushed into my senses and as soon as I noticed it, it was like my muscles turned to soup and I barely stood on my own two feet.

I felt that if he asked, I’d do anything for him.

Then he was shifting away and the pull suddenly lessened, and I realised – it must have been something related to his magick. A cold current of fear ran through me, but I pushed down the need to shudder because I didn’t want to offend him.

Or anyone else, because by that time the whole thunder was gathered around and watching the interaction. I forced myself to ignore their gazes and turned straight to Hoseok.

“Hoseok-ssi, do you think you’d be able to clear it out for me?” The man watched me for a few more seconds before it seemingly caught up to him that I asked him a question, and then he was quickly nodding, already moving towards the garden before Jin’s hand stopped him.

“Absolutely not,” Jin repeated my earlier words, and I’d almost call the expression on his face cheeky if not for the fact that we were everything except people who teased each other fondly. He was about to speak more, but Namjoon jumped in with a very troubled expression.

“That is absolutely not possible, Young Mistress Kang,” he said seriously, voice firm and not inviting any kind of protests, “that would be incredibly inappropriate. We cannot house a young knight and a daughter from a prominent family in an old servant dwelling. The implications-“

“I know, Authority, but it is the least invasive option,” I jumped into his speech, not wanting to let him spiral unnecessarily, “I will explain it to the emperor if I have to. I will tell him it was my choice and that this is the most appropriate way for me to live here. After all, taking away all else, I am an unmarried woman in a house full of young men, those implications aren’t exactly flattering to the general public either.”

Not that I cared about that, but it definitely came in handy during situations like these.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jungkook and Jimin standing side by side blushing at my words, but my attention was quickly snatched by a very disgruntled Namjoon sporting a stormy expression on his face.

“I do not think you understand, Young Mistress,” he spoke with quiet fierceness, and it was the first time I was on the receiving end of such a tone from him, “I don’t think anything you say to the emperor will change much for us.”

Those words did have me stopping in my tracks as they sunk in. I looked to Namjoon again and this time properly took him in – the storm in his eyes, it spoke of experience. Experience of the sovereign’s unfavourable reactions. Experience that no matter what, they will still likely find a reason to punish the thunder.

For the first time I fully realised just what I was playing with here – and what ramifications my behaviour could have for the dragons, even when they didn’t know of my plans. No matter how much I hated my family name and despised my father, I still walked through life with a shield – a shield that would deflect all the shit from me, but splatter it at those around.

There in that moment I felt like such a child, way in over my head. Juggling with others’ lives without understanding how my game could mess them up.

I swiped my hand over my face, sighing deeply into it as it reached my mouth. I walked around the room a little, needing to push all the sudden adrenaline and nervousness somewhere – because I needed to come up with a way to do it as safely as possible for the dragons, and I needed to do it now. Because whether they liked it or not, this thunder’s well-being was now my concern. At least as long as they were unaware of my ulterior motives and couldn’t decide whether they’d like to take the risk or not.

All the seven dragons present watched me aimlessly float through the room, but I felt Namjoon’s gaze especially – my eyes being drawn to him the moment I thought of the Authority. His expression was still pinched, but he seemed to be waiting on me to speak again.

And pathetically the only thing that I could think of was beating the emperor to the punch. Doing what he’d expect and playing him anyway.

“What if I go there right now? Before I move anywhere,” I threw the suggestion into the room, carefully searching for any kind of negative reactions. When none came, I continued. “He’ll want me to come see him anyway. He always asks about everything. I’ll tell him I came straight from the hospital to thank him for his thoughtfulness.” I wasn’t sure if my voice betrayed anything deeper about what I thought of the man on the throne, but I hoped they at least didn’t think I was actually infatuated with him. Though, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that unusual for people to fake their way into the emperor’s favour.

The dragons stood around for a moment, sharing some glances – most probably communicating through their mind link, before Jin turned to me and simply nodded.

“It could work,” the thunder leader admitted quietly, “but you’ll have to mention it as an off-hand comment. That you moved in there because you think it more appropriate.” I didn’t let it show when I solemnly nodded to his words, but I was definitely surprised at the words of advice. Though he most likely did extend them to me only to make sure his loved ones caught the least amount of flack.

I moved towards the main door immediately, feeling Jungkook step right behind me like he was pulled by an invisible string to wherever I moved. On instinct I checked on the still tender and a little strange manifestation of his bond that dwelled deep in my chest, but all I could detect was worry with a pinch of careful joy.

It seemed that Jungkook was also way more nervous than he let on, so I let a pulse of gratefulness through and basked in the explosion of happiness coming from him.

Not paying attention to anything else than the playful feeling of Jungkook’s beating heart, I almost walked straight into a very unimpressed Namjoon who stood and waited by the main entrance already, looking at me in a manner that I’d definitely call disapproving. Realising I must have been just walking blindly smiling to myself like an idiot, I thought that was probably fair and let it go with slightly pink embarrassed cheeks.

Jungkook was suddenly acting like he turned into an adhesive, always plastered to me or standing just mere centimetres to me, so the moment we stepped out and begun our walk straight back to the castle for the second time that day, his warmth boring into my side was a constant reminder of his presence, together with the pulses of the never silent bond.

Namjoon didn’t look very happy, but even after I searched through my mind, I couldn’t recall a time I saw him calm or truly neutral – he was always tinged with something more, something not very positive, always on the edge of some sort of an abyss that only he knew of and understood. He worried me a lot – because how does one win the trust of a dragon like that? He probably knew all the reasons why he shouldn’t let a human near his thunder, after all that was definitely why Yoongi refused to spare a single glance in my direction too.

‘There’s no reason to worry, I’ll be there with you’. The voice burst in seemingly from inside me, echoing through my mind like a wayward thought, and I flinched in surprise. If I immediately didn’t recognise it as Jungkook’s sweet mellow voice, I’d have thought I had really gone crazy. Instead I outwardly stuttered a little, instinctively wanting to reply with words, which drew Namjoon’s attention. He didn’t turn to me, as he walked in front, but I saw his shoulders move in a slow roll signalling he was now listening to what was happening behind.

I sent a few thoughts out, hoping any of them would reach across the little string tying us together (like throwing mud at a stone wall and hoping that it sticks, more like), but when there continued to be no response, I realised none of them landed.

I turned as much of my attention to it as I could and focused hard, imagining the string as a rope instead – holding onto it as tight as possible and sending a sentence across like a little bird.

‘Stop spying on me’. I had meant to chastise him, but that definitely sounded a lot whinier than I anticipated, which was confirmed when little melodious giggles bounced around my mind in response. I felt my tense muscles ease at the sound, a smile unconsciously tugging at my lips too.

‘Stop being a walking cloud of doom, then’, came Jungkook’s words – and even though he meant them in joke, I still couldn’t help the painful tug at my heart that elicited. Immediately the bitter taste of guilt and regret flooded me, smelling like burnt wood and damp stone. I grew dizzy for a moment and stumbled gently, righting myself almost instantly. The constant up and down of someone else’s emotions was draining me – not to mention my own seemed to uncharacteristically volatile too, and suddenly I found myself dragging my feet more than before, feeling a heavy weight set into my shoulders.

This whole matter was turning more difficult with each day, and so far I’ve actually only been awake for a couple of hours.

Something must have given us away, because it finally caught Namjoon’s attention enough to intervene, and the golden eyed dragon slowed down to walk next to his youngest mate, grasping his shoulder so softly with such care it tanked my mood even further. The onslaught of negative emotions lessened, and only then I caught onto the fact that he was monitoring our interaction through Jungkook this whole time exactly to help out with situations like this.

I felt like a hormonal teenager, every minute going through a different emotion and trying to stabilise myself while everything constantly turned and danced around me, making me dizzy. The cloud of shame and sadness hung over me, and I desperately tried to reel it in as to not drag my bonded down with me, further making me feel like I was losing my mind.

In the split second a wild thought slipped through – that maybe this was all wrong, maybe trying to be closer to Jungkook was a bad idea, because in that moment I wanted nothing more than to turn around and run away from his tender open heart, nothing more than to shut it all out and not feel anything anymore, to tear that bond out of my chest and walk away.

I shunned it as quickly as it appeared, but the damage was done it seemed.

A pang of hurt shot through me hard enough to almost make me keel over – I grunted and fought to bring back my balance – and then there was nothing. Suddenly in the absence of the constant hum of another soul, I felt so terrifyingly empty I almost cried out.

When I realised what happened, I just pushed myself to continue walking and shut it out, ignoring everything in me that screamed to check on the dragon – even as I found myself strangely off kilter, like I suddenly lost a limb.

This was a damn mess, and all I really wanted in that moment was to pass out again and sleep for a whole month.

The rest of the walk was quiet and awkward, the two dragons keeping to themselves a few steps behind me while I trudged on feeling like an exposed nerve, a bleeding open wound, and the biggest piece of shit on this side of the continent.

Never thought I’d see the emperor’s lounge and let out a huge sigh of relief, but by the moment I realised we were almost by the ruby saloon I was so ready for it to be done I basically sprinted towards it. It was a bit of a gamble, just showing up here and hoping for the best, but the two times I saw the sovereign, it was always here so I figured it might be my best bet.

The stripes guarding the door took a single look at our group and one immediately slipped inside with a gentle knock. That was a good sign. The second guard didn’t really spare us any more attention, so we just stood there and waited to be let it, shuffling on our feet nervously.

Like it so often happened, my thoughts started racing around my head the instant I was left with no outward impulse to focus on, speeding around my brain and painfully bouncing off the walls. The whole scene during the bonding, especially my father screaming at me in front of the whole thunder, the feeling of embarrassment at being seen that way, the hurt and betrayal of his lack of care, the fact that the dragons now likely thought I was as much of an enemy as possible, the weight of the new bond and the wildness of my own emotions for the past few hours (days?), the emperor’s expectations and fearing the kind of game he wanted to play with me and the thunder, it all crashed into me in one moment of anxiety and despair. My heart quivered, and my knees and hands shook. All I could do was to force myself to stand there quietly instead of nervously pacing around like a madman.

I was terrified. I wanted to talk to someone, but I couldn’t – those who would understand still thought me an enemy, and those who were friendly didn’t have to understand.

Desperately I wanted to curl into a ball and hide away, I wanted to stand tall and I wanted to crumble, I wanted to fight and I wanted to run. I was closer to the hazy unpolished idea of rebellion I thought of when I was still a stubborn child, and yet I felt weaker and more incompetent than ever.

Everything that could go wrong weighted on me, all I still had to do and accomplish weighted on me, my own shortcomings and faults weighted on me. It was too much.

But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t give up, even if I died. I had to try.

The door opened very suddenly and tore me out of my troubled thoughts, the knight stepping out and wordlessly gesturing for me to come in. I took one last deep breath to stabilise myself and moved to enter when the guard abruptly shifted forward and threw out an arm.

“No dragons,” he said in a monotone, expression not changing an inch, and I turned around to see both their figures frozen mid step. The awkwardness that hung between us hit me full force again, and I only offered them a tight-lipped smile with a nod before I disappeared inside.

Perhaps not realising how late in the evening it was, I was shocked to see the emperor sitting alone in a completely empty room. Unlike the first time I was brought here with my father, the man was sitting leisurely on his golden red sofa and his eyes were already boring into me with a burning curiosity.

Kicking myself to remember all the proper pleasantries, I stepped to the edge of the carpet and went down to kneel, touching my head to the floor in the politest bow one could make. Squirming under his attention, I swallowed everything down and played my part.

“Greetings, our empire,” my voice was slightly muffled by being bent over like this and I spoke more into the ground than to the man, but I didn’t doubt he heard me – and even if he didn’t, he must have been greeted this way million times by now, “thank you for accepting my humble request for an audience.”

When I straightened again, there was that sleazy smile on the young man’s face I’ve seen a couple times before. I forced down the shudder of disgust that desperately wanted to run through me and took my time to curl my lips into a smile instead. To my boundless shock, instead of sending me to sit at one of the lower set sofas, the man gestured for me to join him on his little platform.

That… felt like a test. A test that could possibly have terrible consequences.

Standing up to my feet, I hesitated. I tried to guess what he wanted me to do from his face, but his expression was frozen in that same cunning grin. When maybe a minute of tense silence sped by, I finally took the step up towards him, and his smile melted into a satisfied smirk. I hated that so much.

Hesitantly and as slowly as I could I walked over to the other end of the sofa he currently occupied and sat down, watching his body language the whole time and trying to discern when I pushed a limit or crossed a line. Nothing happened though, and the young sovereign instead leant forward to offer me a cup of tea.

I took it wordlessly, almost on instinct, still too shocked to really comprehend what was happening here.

“Y/N, I am very pleased with your visit,” he started in a silken smooth voice. I imagined it worked quite well on people, especially women desperate to be noticed by the most powerful man in the empire, but I just felt my skin crawl with disgust. “I was hoping you’d come speak to me about how the situation is going forward.” I plastered a hopefully grateful smile on my face, pretended to be a little shy to avoid looking at him directly. He unsettled me, a lot. But if he wanted to do it this way, I’d match his energy word for word.

“I came to thank you, your majesty,” I spoke softly, just like a polite well-mannered noble daughter would, “I am very grateful for your special request to accommodate me.” I was thinking what more to say, but the man was already opening his mouth to speak more, so I let him. He clearly liked the sound of his own voice, so why ruin it for him?

“A bond like yours deserves special attention,” the honey in his voice was grating on my nerves, so I just played with my cup of tea and timidly sipped on it to stop myself from scowling, “It doesn’t happen very often. I admit, at first I found your behaviour during the ceremony very strange, but when General Kang and the fire dragon came to explain it I thought it was the most exciting news.”

The man fully turned to me and I was forced to look at him, since he clearly commanded my attention. The flickering light of the magick lamps brought out the shadows in his eyes, making him seem like an eager predator when he leant towards me with a sharp smile full of teeth.

“I’d like you to keep me updated on how your relationship with the thunder goes,” his voice turned almost too sweetly and tender, confirming he thought me to be an empty-headed young girl yearning for his approval, so I took it in stride. At least I didn’t really have to fear of going too far with him, he must have been used to people trying to sleaze their way into his favour.

Coyly I tucked some of my unruly hair behind my ear, trying my best to gaze at him with eyes full of stars. My stomach rolled, and my heart beat so fast I was worried I might throw up right into his lap, but I held myself together with the last pieces of sanity I had left.

“It would be my honour, your majesty,” it was all pointless pandering, but the emperor seemed to buy I was genuinely doing that – his expression stayed the same, it didn’t flicker with annoyance or disgust, it didn’t light up, he watched me with the same calculative eyes. I hoped he didn’t see the same mirrored in mine. Or if he did, I hoped he thought I was after a ring on my finger and nothing more.

What else could a woman want, after all.

His strange obsession over me getting closer to the whole thunder also wasn’t lost on me, and as unusual as that was, I had an inkling he’d soon start revealing more of his cards. He clearly had a goal in mind – I saw it all there in him, in the way he watched me. He wouldn’t wait forever for it to be realised, he’d hint at what he expected me to do sooner rather than later.

“As you granted me, I have already moved into the house,” I spoke again after a momentary lull in conversation, keeping my voice sweet and soft, “I took the old servant dwelling, as it of course isn’t appropriate for a young unmarried woman to live with a group of male dragons.” Making sure to put the emphasis on the words young and unmarried, I kept an eye on his reaction, almost holding my breath.

Come on, buy it, don’t ask questions please!!

A shadow passed over his eyes momentarily, but then he was politely chuckling along. “Well, of course, I didn’t even think of that,” he said smoothly, and something in his posture just didn’t seem quite right to me, “How very silly of me, of course a young noblewoman shouldn’t be sharing living quarters with such unruly characters. Dragons cannot be trusted in these matters, after all – they’re wild beasts.”

The smile I kept on my face with sheer force of will twitched at those words, but I immediately leant in to agree, thanking him of thinking of my virtue. For the first time since I walked in the man seemed a little off, and as I watched him he almost looked upset about me not living closer to them. Like he was fully expecting me to just move straight into Jungkook’s room.

Wait a minute.

Every thought in my head screeched to a halt. Could it be that people truly believed we were entangled as more than just a rider and his dragon? Did he think he was doing me a favour with this? We’ve known each other for barely a little over a week, and almost three of those days I lay unconscious in the infirmary!

This time when the sovereign smiled at me, I didn’t even have to fake being a blushing mess, because what the actual fuck. God, what a mess.

“The others have already reported to your superior at the Academy, so I suggest you do that first thing tomorrow morning,” he continued talking, not caring for my embarrassed silence at all, “This year’s novices are in the care of General Wang, so seek him out in the barracks. He’ll give you your uniform and show you around. Tell him they’re my orders, special for the youngest Kang.” A sly grin made itself home on his thin lips, and I felt the hair at the back of my neck rise. He wanted me to swoon, but I couldn’t force myself to sell that properly.

Bowing as much as I could while sitting, I told him in response: “Once again, I offer my humble thanks, your majesty.”

A hand suddenly grasped mine, making me flinch slightly. The emperor chuckled at my reaction, chalking it up to being shy around him, and his grip on me tightened as he leant forward, until all I saw was his beautiful cold face and fiery cruel eyes.

“No need for such formalities between the two of us, please do call me by my name when it’s just us,” the words were whispered almost coquettishly, and for few terrifying moments I feared he might actually be interested in fucking me to get something out of keeping me loyal, “Not many have the honour to do that.”

Keeping my eyes lowered, I felt the pressure behind them, lips almost twisting in a grimace as I simply whispered back “if your majesty insists…”. His hand was still tightly holding mine, and he was so close that when he chuckled this time I felt it hitting my skin.

“Not your majesty,” he playfully chided me, and his skin on mine felt both scalding hot and freezing cold, making me shudder. The instinct to tear out of his hold and put space between us almost made me jerk away. With deep breaths I grounded myself and went along. It was revolting, truly revolting – his touch felt like the worst kind of a brand.

“Yes, K-Kangdae-ssi…” it was hard to get the name through my lips, like every cell in my body knew it was forbidden, but the man let out a pleased hum and finally pulled away. The moment his oppressing aura shifted back, it was like a boulder fell off my shoulders and I straightened in relief.

Yi Kangdae. It was a name everyone in the country knew, but no one said out loud. It was etched into murals around the castle, written into history books and documents, carved into despair and calamities, branded onto his loyal followers. It was left behind in bloody wounds of fallen soldiers and cried out in prayers of grieving mothers and wives. Just like the names of his father, and his father before, and his father before.

It carried a weight with it that had nothing to do with his position of power, and it tasted like ash on my tongue.

The man himself sat unbothered on his half of the sofa we shared and watched me with a sort of lazy satisfaction, like someone that knew whatever they wanted they would get.

“Isn’t that much more comfortable, Y/N-ssi?” he taunts again, darkness spilling into his gaze as if he was subtly warning me, so I quickly bent to his will. Nodding and smiling, playing, acting, selling.

“We’ll see each other a lot anyway,” were his final words, an order hidden between them. Bow to me, worship me, obey me. So I did.

When his hand gestured that I was free to go, I stood up and bowed to him again, keeping myself at ninety degrees for a few moments before I rose again. An acidic lump sat at the bottom of my stomach, searing through the sensitive tissue.

In a daze I walked back, only to be stopped by his voice once I was by the door.

“Y/N. Call in the fire dragon, I want to speak with him.” I half turned with an unsure smile on my face, doing a quick bow once more before walking out.

My stomach was boiling with nervosity as I saw the two dragons leaning on a windowsill directly across the door. Both of them had sombre expressions on their faces and both of them jerked in my direction when they heard the door open and close. Jungkook’s youthful face wasn’t made for the frown that resided on it currently. It felt wrong for him to be anything but his usual happy self, and I couldn’t help myself and beat myself up once again for being so harsh earlier.

His bond was still dead and quiet in my chest, and now that I saw him again I was poignantly aware of the missing piece – of the black empty hole consuming me from the inside.

Before either of the dragons could say anything, I gestured to the door with a troubled look on my face.

“Namjoon-ssi, his majesty wishes to speak to you..” I surprised myself that the words weren’t spoken in a whisper, but they came out wobbly nonetheless – not that the dragon commented on that. He simply nodded and without a word walked to the door, disappearing inside instantly.

When I was left standing there alone with Jungkook, only the stripes guards tensely standing by the entrance into the lounge, I found myself squirming and shuffling from foot to foot. The young dragon’s gaze was trained on me, almost sheepish, as if he feared I wouldn’t take kindly to his attention. Unsure of where he stood now, after what he must have perceived as a sort of a rejection. Giving myself one last mental slap I walked towards him, slinking in like a misbehaving dog.

I felt the questions in his gaze when I leant on the cold stone closer to him than necessary, ignoring all that empty space left behind by the huge fire dragon. I came as close as I could without brushing our arms together, but it was enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. I found myself enveloped in a heavy scent of burning wood and stone and metal, for the first time taking the time to realise that it was Jungkook’s natural smell – something I had no chance of catching onto before the bonding, but now so aware of it I felt singed with it. He smelt like smoky sandalwood, iron and gunpowder – powerful and heavy, but with a calming tone. It rushed through my lungs like opium smoke, pulling me into a haze like I’ve never felt before.

The gravity of the discovery instinctively pulled me closer until my nose almost bumped into the bewildered dragon’s shoulder so I could take a closer sniff, and with embarrassment colouring my cheeks red I jerked back.

Clearing my throat, I sat straight and kneaded my hands on my thighs to get rid of the sweaty clammy feel.

“Sorry,” I muttered quietly, taking the chance to send an apologetic smile to the dragon, and catching his shy but sparkling eyes. He still hesitated on whether to get close or not, lips pulled down at the corners with emotion only he felt, now that his side of the bond shut down.

“Don’t worry about it,” came his hushed response, though more eager than mine, “your scent is heightened too, now.”

“Oh,” well, that certainly caught my attention, and I turned to him fully, “and what do I smell like?”

He pursed his lips for a moment, the cogs in his head turning so obviously I almost laughed at him as he attempted to come up with a good analogy.

“I don’t really know, haven’t figured it out yet,” the dragon finally admitted, “it changes a lot, but it’s really earthy with a hint of flowers. Maybe like a freshly dug flower bed?”

That was… peculiar. Dirt and flowers? I guess it was quite fitting, but still – not very a ladylike scent, was it?

“Wait… what do you mean it changes? Do I smell differently each day?” I inquired more, trying to subtly take a whiff of my own body odour, but I didn’t really smell anything special. I smelled like the hospital I woke up in, and there was a residue of a sharp tang of magick on me that smelled vaguely like damp moss. That must have been Hoseok. My clothes smelled clean but slept in. Nothing more.

“You can’t really smell your own scent, not like this at least,” Jungkook chuckled as he watched me, “and technically yes, scent changes – but not drastically. It’s usually about the emotions. The heavier the emotion, the heavier the scent. Usually.” I blushed and stopped sniffing my own arms like a maniac, and instead leant in to Jungkook again.

And he was right – this time his scent was much more mellow, more like sandalwood incense with sharp metallic undertones. It was a fascinating mix, so much so that the red hue on my cheeks was now solely due to that.

“When can you smell your own scent?” I tried to distract both of us from my own flustered state, so I inquired more. Jungkook still giggled at me though, and mischief glinted in his eyes – and they were so alive, it robbed me of my breath.

“Uh… well- certain emotions are bigger and stronger than others,” the young dragon started talking, hand on his chin like he was a philosopher, eyebrows pinched together as he seemed to be deliberating on how to present this information to me, though everything about him felt a touch too whimsical to take seriously, “you know, like anger. You can smell your anger, because your scent starts like… soaking into the air around you, I guess? It becomes really heavy and tangible for everyone, basically.”

I hummed in answer, nodding along as what he told me slowly sunk in. We both leant back into the cold stone windowsill, now more comfortable than before – like the ice has been broken with this simple small talk. Jungkook was too forgiving, truly. With my heart squeezing painfully in my chest, I thought to myself that if I didn’t mention the earlier upset, he’d probably just let it go and act normally when I did too.

And that was absolutely unacceptable.

Namjoon was still inside with the emperor, though to us it no doubt felt much longer than it truly was, and the hallway was empty – safe for those two guards. I’d feel too uncomfortable trying to talk this out with him in front of others, not only because I didn’t like the idea of them hearing me discuss such a vulnerable thing with someone, but also because gossip spread like fire and I didn’t want people to start talking even more about the friendship I’d like to start building with him. It wasn’t really customary for humans to be so sweet with dragons, and it drew too much attention when someone broke that unspoken rule. There were already too many eyes on us due to my family’s name, the Bangtan name and the emperor’s involvement, and for now it’d be easier and safer to try and fly under the radar (no pun intended).

So with that in mind I squirmed on my spot to dispel the unpleasant feeling of cold stone seeping into my robes, and reached out to the link binding us together again. It was still too quiet inside me, and no matter how Jungkook’s constant chatter of emotions and thought overwhelmed me at times, in those few hours I’ve had the bond it already sunk its roots into the deepest parts of me.

Now that I knew what rhythm Jungkook’s heart beat to, the absence was even more obviously felt.

The string hummed and quivered under my careful attention, a bit of hopeful warmth spreading in. The dragon shuffled in surprise, but other than turning to me to give me a shy smile he didn’t acknowledge me reaching out to him.

‘Jungkook’. The thought was so loud and clear in my mind, that I’d never doubt it’s ability to cross over, but the slight blush on the man’s face was a nice sign too. ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for before’.

I was given a beautiful blinding smile in return, so bright I felt like I was standing in that gazebo soaking in the moon’s blessed light again. In a swirl the full force of the bond swooped in, million thoughts going around our minds as we shared a conspiratory smile.

‘There’s nothing to apologise for’, came Jungkook’s response, the thought beating to the forefront with the tenacity of his strong heart. I was just about to shake my head when he continued. ‘The hyungs keep telling me I’m overwhelming you, I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you in your mind without a warning’.

My heart squeezed at his earnestness, and I couldn’t quite stop myself from reaching out and grabbing onto his arm gently.

‘No, Jungkook. It’s just… It will take time for me to get used to someone else sensing all of my thoughts and emotions. I’ve never been this open to anyone. I was just… scared’. And Jungkook, as open and easy-going as always, accepted what I offered with no questions asked. It was almost scary how eager he was when it came to any kind of love and affection, and for the first time I fully understood the thunder’s desperate need to shelter him away from all of this. From me, and from the emperor.

‘I don’t even remember what it’s like to not hear and feel my mates, but I understand it’s new to you. Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll get through this together – us, with the thunder.’ I hoped I managed to hide away the note of sourness that tinged my emotions at his boundless optimism, but I had the inkling that he wouldn’t care either way.

Jungkook just seemed like a person that willed things into existence – he expected them to happen a certain way, so of course they would. In the time I’ve known him (and it felt like ages already), he hasn’t expressed a single doubt about any of his ideas not realising in the end.

He wanted me and the thunder to be friendly, a big family, so it would end up coming true – wouldn’t it?

It was quite charming, to tell the truth. He had a way of swaying you into believing it too, like his enthusiasm was irresistibly contagious.

When I failed to respond to him, the dragon took it as a sign to continue soothing my frayed nerves. ‘You’ll come to enjoy the feeling of having the bond with you. And I promise – I never want to pry into you, nor make you uncomfortable, but the bond is there so we can rely on each other. Rely on me. Trust our instincts.’

Our instincts. There was something so incredibly straightforward and simple about that. Us. For me, there’s never been an us. Maybe when I was younger, but that was long gone.

Jungkook had no reason to manipulate me or betray me, but his presence in the deepest parts of my psyche still unnerved me. I’ve never realised the bond would be quite so encompassing – not to the point where I almost felt his life force running through my veins and my chest ached when I couldn’t sense him. And it was just mere hours!

‘Okay. But you need to teach me how to keep my bond under control too. I must be wrecking you too.’

To that Jungkook gave me a toothy grin and bumped our shoulders together. The amicable contact sent a flurry of embers through my body, something heavy flickering in and out of existence in my chest before all at once a soothing calm settled over me.

“W-What is that?” I stuttered out in surprise, cheeks a soft pink colour. The shock of the pleasant sensation pushed me out of our telepathic communication and pushed the words straight out of my mouth.

At least Jungkook was looking similarly flushed, grin lopsided and cheeky but with a bit of shyness. “Hyungs mentioned…,” he started, squirming in his place a little bit, “physical contact helps settle the bond.”

Just like before my interest was piqued – after all, I didn’t know much about the inner workings of the bonds, but just as I was about to open my mouth and fire more questions out, the ruby saloon’s door opened and Namjoon walked out. He looked tired, holding himself straight but with a heavy weight on his shoulders, constantly pulling him down. He took one single look at the two of us sitting close, cheeks rosy, and a very brief flash of something pained crossed his eyes.

I jerked under the load of that, but even then I couldn’t find it in myself to unstick from the young dragon – like everything in me was protesting even the mere idea of being separated from my bonded.

The fire dragon only sighed and slowly trudged towards us before gesturing with his chin to leave. So we did.

Namjoon went first, as he always did, and me and Jungkook fell into a comfortable pace behind him, arms linked at our elbows. The little fuzzy warm ball of light was serenely floating around inside me, almost like a napping lounging cat lazing in the afternoon sun. When I reached in to lightly caress it, it responded with a burst of peaceful hum – the bond hasn’t been this calm in my chest since I woke up – even since it took hold in me.

I still felt Jungkook’s consciousness gently probing along the edges of mind, and even though I could sense my metaphorical hackles of discomfort rising in alarm, our cores buzzed in harmony and felt too tranquil for me to panic too much about it.

‘Jungkook.’ The dragon looked to me questioningly, but inclined his head to signal he was listening.

‘Please promise me, that whatever you feel or see inside me, you won’t ask questions.’

‘Why?’ His gaze was warm and curious, gently inquisitive – youthful. But then it melted away into understanding. ‘I’ll promise not to ask, if you promise you’ll tell me when it’s time to know.’

Namjoon’s tense form moved steadily forward in front of us, shoulders almost all the way up to his ears, and I wondered whether he was monitoring Jungkook’s emotions again. And if he did, I wondered how he felt about the amusement that flooded me when he heard my soft snickering.

‘Fine, that’s unfortunately fair.’

The moment I looked to the side my good spirits evaporated within a moment though. Jungkook immediately pulled me closer to himself, and I could imagine his vigilant gaze tracking across our surroundings, ready to pinpoint any kind of danger I could be reacting to.

That wasn’t what had me on pins and needles though.

We’ve walked over to the side of the castle that left behind dark towering halls and corridors, and opened up into more stone and flower decorated courtyards with roofed walkways. This part was closer to the barracks and the Academy grounds, and scholars and councilmen gave way to uniform-clad knights.

And there, as we were passing by towards the castle gates closer to the dragons’ house, a group of Academy students was walking through the courtyard on the opposite side to us. Their affiliation was very clear even without any other clues – their dark cheolliks embroidered with the likeness of a dragon beast and tied with greenish blue sashes – but I still wouldn’t be able to not recognise the ever so smug smirking man by one of the knights’ sides.

Fucking Peacock.

I didn’t recognise the rest of the students, but they sure did recognise me. The moment they saw me and Jungkook walking arm in arm with Namjoon leading the way, their faces scrunched up in a rich variable of emotions. I saw distaste and envy. I saw mockery. The usual mixture.

My classmate was speaking to a knightess I’ve never seen before, but based on their uniforms they must have been some of the upperclassmen. Those two were leaning close together, their shiny hostile eyes trained onto our moving forms, lips curled into snide smirks.

I’ve long since realised that the only way to get through situations like this was to ignore everything, so I just turned back to my companions ready to leave this behind us. What other people thought of me and what rumours they spread around about me was of no concern to me, and I didn’t care one bit about it.

The dragons seemed to have a different idea though. When I looked back towards them, I saw that even Namjoon’s gaze was locked on the now snickering students as they kept walking away from us. As I could have predicted, Jungkook’s face was coloured with anger and displeasure, but why Namjoon looked so disgruntled was beyond me.

The golden dragon’s ears were twitching, like he was used to them having a different shape, and I realised he most likely heard their conversation.

Which meant… there was a chance I could hear them too.

I wasn’t fully sure what to do – I did remember having heightened senses overwhelmed me slightly in the infirmary, but since then it was like everything went back to normal. Thankfully, our pace slowed down considerably due to the distraction, so I had the mental capacity to really lean into it and focus as hard as I could on trying to catch their venomous whispers.

“…riding too seriously…” A bout of giggles disrupted the sentence and I got lost again. With how quickly they were heading in the other direction, it was harder to listen in.

“…daddy gets his princess what she wants…” There was more laughter, and I rolled my eyes. As if I haven’t heard that one thousand times before. If they only fucking knew what my father was like.

“Didn’t expect her to spread her legs for the whole thunder-“ And with that they rounded the corner and disappeared deeper into the gardens, presumably in the direction of either the barracks or the training grounds.

I looked towards Namjoon with flaming cheeks, but the dragon just seemed very displeased. Even Jungkook looked more angry than embarrassed, which I wasn’t expecting.

For the rest of the journey back to the house no one said anything. I wondered whether Namjoon, now freshly discovering this very unpleasant side-effect of being associated with our family, regretted everything even more. I wondered what Jungkook thought of such rumours being spread around about his loved ones, but he himself gave me no more signs of anything being wrong – didn’t let go of my arm, didn’t shut off his bond again, and didn’t let through even a sliver of displeasure.

The second dinner I’ve had at the dragons’ house was no less uncomfortable and tense than the first one, but it did seem that some of them were a bit more positively minded towards me.

The moment we returned to the townhouse, me and Jungkook jumped into moving my things into the servant’s house with the help of Hoseok – and surprisingly Taehyung, who insisted on assisting us with anything we’d need.

Somewhere along the way Jungkook wormed his way back into my mind, speaking to me constantly in an eager chirp, chatting off about anything that came to mind. I felt a bit bad for the other two dragons who had to watch us as we silently talked about horses and vegetables and whatever else that came to Jungkook’s mind, but they were likely doing the same thing through their own bond. And, unexpectedly, both of them wore quite genuine smiles on their faces as they hauled boxes and chests filled with my essentials.

I don’t know how exactly it happened, but in the time it took us to settle me into that little room, Jungkook managed to persuade me into tagging along with him in some old forgotten tradition his hyungs told him about long time ago. Understandably, I was quite hesitant at first – the thunder leader still winced whenever ‘Authority’ fell out of my mouth, though he tried to hide it, so I wasn’t quite sure it would exactly be appreciated.

But Jungkook was nothing if not excited and impossible to reject, so I ended up caving in just in time for the dinner to start. Damn his beautiful, wet, sparkling eyes.

Just walk in by my side and kneel to Namjoon hyung, he said as he ran off to help Seokjin with dishes. He’ll welcome you into the thunder. Right.

Yeah, well, easier said than done, now that I was actually walking into the room with the jittery excited Jungkook basically vibrating next to me, seeing the whole thunder sitting around the dinner table on their pillows, in the same order as last time. Their gazes were on us, some confused and questioning, some calm and expecting.

When Jungkook kneeled, it was met with soft and fond looks. When I followed him down, the room suddenly felt colder.

Jin sat straight in his spot, a neutral expression on his face. He didn’t seem neither displeased not appeased. Yoongi on the other hand turned his head away from the display as soon as he realised what we were doing. That one stung. But not as much as Namjoon, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but us without making it immediately obvious to the excited Jungkook. When our eyes met, it almost seemed like it hurt him to even see me.

After that I didn’t gather enough courage to look at the others and instead hung my head down low in a proper bow. A few more moments of silence went by, and judging by Jungkook’s warm purring happiness spilling everywhere out of his core, he didn’t interpret the atmosphere to be quite as tense as I did.

“Thank you, sihe,” finally Namjoon’s voice cut through the room, putting everyone involved out of their misery, “Come take a seat at the table and eat.” The word was unfamiliar to me, though there was no doubt it was draconic. It rolled off the dragon’s tongue smoothly, in his deep voice it almost sounded like a purr, and I could see that Jungkook especially liked to hear his leader call me such; so assuming it wasn’t anything bad, I didn’t pry more.

The young dragon rose from his position to sit at the table, chest puffed out and cheeks rosy with some emotion I couldn’t fully discern. I followed after him, significantly more sluggish and ready to call it a day.

This time around when I sat down next to Taehyung, there was no trace of his previous apprehension. When I looked to him, he smiled and gestured towards the spread of food that smelled absolutely delicious. Seokjin also gave me a polite but warm smile and began eating.

When I reached back towards the memory of the first dinner I spent here, merely a week ago, I couldn’t even remember what it was we ate. Tonight a pot full of hearty stew sat in the middle of the table, and I didn’t even know how much I needed it until the first spoonful hit me and spread the pleasant kind of heavy warmth through my being. By the time I ate a whole bowl, I was ready to curl up and fall asleep right there on the floor by the table.

The dragons kept up a sparse but polite chatter, but unlike the last time I didn’t join in. No one spoke to me, and just for that evening I basked in their insistence on ignoring me. For once I found a bit of relief in not getting their attention – because then it meant I wasn’t actively pissing them off either, and I figured all of us needed a break after everything that’s been happening.

When it was all over, I was just about ready to slink off into my little house and sleep for a whole century. Trying to disappear as inconspicuously as possible, I was promptly stopped by Seokjin’s voice calling my name. He said it so softly I almost missed it, but when I whipped around in surprise the pink-haired man was already gesturing for me to follow after him.

Jungkook was running after Namjoon basically as soon as his spoon dropped from his hand, something proud and eager glinting in his eyes, so I rather left them to it and quietly jogged after the eldest dragon. Seokjin swiftly made his way over into the kitchen, which was still covered in mess from when he cooked – utensils and dishes were laid out everywhere, cutoffs from vegetables were sitting in a bowl on a table, the remaining stew sat in a pot in the middle of the room. A few magickal lanterns were fighting to keep the room alight, the shadows flickering around the room with the dying strands of their energy.

Seokjin danced into the room like a storm, immediately grabbing a basket and strutting right out, leaving me stood there in the middle of the room gaping. Just seconds later Taehyung leisurely walked in, taking slow deliberate steps and watching me with deep icy blue eyes.

I thought back to earlier that afternoon, how his gaze locked me into place and penetrated deep into my soul. How I felt drawn to him, and how I almost choked on his flowery scent. As my gaze slid across the man (much like he did to me), I couldn’t help but ponder what exactly his powers entailed.

Unlike the other dragons, I couldn’t outwardly see any draconic features – except for his blueish grey eyes and ethereal beauty. He didn’t have any scales anywhere like Jimin, didn’t have horns like Hoseok, Jungkook or Yoongi, his eyes didn’t even flash silver or glow like Namjoon’s golden ones did. His gaze was always inquisitive and he didn’t speak much, but somehow had an aura of someone who always knew what you were thinking deep down. Or like you’d want to tell him anyway, no matter what – as long as he wanted it.

It was unsettling. Taehyung was putting me kind of on edge, but he was also one of the two dragons who seemed to want to be friendly with me, so whatever it was I was grateful to him anyway.

Even if it seemed slightly sinister.

Taehyung’s stare felt just as weighted on me as the dragon circled around the room seemingly inconspicuously before his neutral cold exterior melted into a cheeky smile and he took a seat by one of the sliding doors leading out into the yard.

I didn’t really even have the chance to feel the thickness of the silence when the pink dragon waltzed back in, basket now full of dirty dishes. Jimin trailed in behind him, pot of uneaten stew in hands. The water dragon didn’t spare me much but an unsure glance, set the stew down on the floor and with a quick snap of his fingers a wooden basin that Seokjin suddenly pulled out of nowhere started filling with water.

For a split second I got pulled into that dark glistening surface – the darkness and calm I felt during that cleansing, the voice speaking to me, the water filling my lungs and constricting my throat, and Jimin there, looking back at me in the mirror of my mind – and then I pulled back again. I wasn’t insane enough to think the Moon Goddess was going to talk to me through the kitchen dish washing tub. Yet.

But I did discreetly shuffle further away from it with my shaking hands seeking support at one of the wooden tables – not that anyone cared. Taehyung has found himself a bag of potatoes and was peeling them all by himself in his corner, not paying attention to anything else. I heard Seokjin’s half-hearted grumbled complaints with which he was teasing the already walking away Jimin. The tub sat on the floor, the water looking at me with a hungry spark.

“Have you never washed the dishes?” Seokjin’s question came at me half serious, half teasing – I mean, even if he did want to play around, in his mind the chances I ever did anything with my own two hands must have been pretty low. I jerked, whipping my eyes into his warm greyish silver ones. His leathery wings were twitching behind his back, probably dying to spread out more, but the man kept them firmly pressed to himself. “You’re watching it like it’s about to eat you.”

Now I felt Taehyung’s curious eyes on me too, though I still heard him as he worked on the vegetables. In two strides I reached the older dragon’s side and grabbed the washing sponge and lavender smelling soap.

“I did,” I answered him simply, shooting him a quick smile, “Even if I missed it at home – which I didn’t – I went through military.” Seokjin pulled two low wooden stools towards us with a quick flick of his wrist, the furniture flying through air with an elegant arch and landing right under me.

“What, they let the general’s daughter dirty her hands?” the pink dragon teased more, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips. He sat down while I still processed the quick magick he showcased, before I slowly slid down and started on the ceramic bowls. Normally jabs like that were the quickest way to anger me, but for some reason I didn’t mind Seokjin’s light joking tone.

He didn’t seem malicious, just interested. And after the fiasco at the dinner, that was better than I was hoping for.

“Well, everybody has to help around the barracks, though you can buy your way around it,” I admitted freely, knowing there’s no reason to lie about such things (my father would never waste money on me like that anyway, so it’s not like I was ever exempt), “but it’s mostly just a popular way to punish someone for minor misdeeds, as were most of the cleaning duties. I spent a lot of time mopping the floors while on the mother base.” A wry smile made its way on my face, the tenseness in my shoulders melting away as we fell into a rhythm.

“A trouble-maker, huh? No wonder you bonded our Kookie,” Seokjin muttered softly in response, eyes locked on his hands. I honestly wasn’t sure if he expected me to respond – if those words were even aimed at me, but the dragon quickly shook the melancholic expression off and smirked again.

“Had my bouts of misbehaving,” I grumbled back, cheeks pink as the older dragon’s eyes glinted with humour. But then he suddenly turned serious, and all my peace was thrown right out the window Taehyung was sitting by.

“The bowing ceremony, tiichir,” the draconic word rolled off Seokjin’s tongue in a similar purr-like hiss like Namjoon did before, and once again I found myself quite enthralled at the language that was so rarely heard anymore. So enthralled in fact, that I almost forgot to shit bricks at the mention of the ceremony. “Did your teacher teach you that as well?”

“Uhh- no, actually,” the confused answer spilled out of me almost unconsciously. Seokjin’s demeanour was so tranquil, the tone of his voice so conversational, and I realised too late it was most likely on purpose so that I felt comfortable talking to him about things he truly wanted to know. I sighed in disappointment a little, but really – what was there to do?

At least he was nice about it.

“Actually, Jungkook told me about it. He said he knows it from your stories and always wanted to do it with his bonded too.” Seokjin’s eyebrow twitched, but otherwise he stayed perfectly inviting. From the corner the sounds of Taehyung peeling vegetables were the only reminders of his presence.

“I see, so he did.” The older dragon’s tone was almost too kindly, and I had a feeling Jungkook would get a huge dressing down later. Though, good luck trying to scold him when he’s looking at you with those begging eyes and talking about how much he loved it. I fell in the same trap and look where it got me.

“Y/N,” the sudden appearance of my name out of Seokjin’s mouth startled me enough to flinch in my spot, “I will come clean, as I dislike not being straightforward. I have to admit, I’m very curious about your teacher – because I’m very curious about the kind of dragon that spends his summers teaching a random human child olden dragon customs. Are you sure his name is Hwan?”

I just stared at him, hands frozen in my spot, clutching onto a half-washed fork. Based on his body language, he didn’t seem to be angry – he looked quite relaxed actually, and there was an open expression on his face. But something about the way he worded the sentence just rubbed me wrong. Maybe it was because I already got Hwan into trouble once by being a tattle-mouth, but I struggled to let go of my fear that there was still a way I could bring ire on his head, even though I didn’t even know where he currently was. Or if he even lived.

“Based on what he taught you, he could have been a zriha once upon a time, but that would make him quite old,” the pink-haired dragon continued, hands still diligently working in the sudd covered tub not caring at all that mine stopped.

“I-I have no idea what that word means,” I absent-mindedly stuttered out in response, clutching onto the first straw I could catch. A sharp grin that sent goosebumps down my back split the handsome man’s face, and it was the first time I saw him look a touch less polite and friendly.

“It’s not yours to know,” a clear warning laced his cheery voice, so I immediately left it alone.

I looked at him for a moment, at his expectant gaze. At the wings stretching and folding continuously behind his back as he tried to make himself comfortable on the little stool. He was a little too tall for it, I belatedly realised. His wide shoulders almost hid Taehyung from me at this angle, but I still saw the way his eyes turned to me every few seconds, waiting.

“He said his name was Hwan. That’s what he went by and that’s how he introduced himself to me,” I said finally, sighing and forcing my hands back into motion. There weren’t many dishes left and I reached for one of the last plates. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Taehyung frowning, gaze clouded with deep thought.

Seokjin sat still for a few seconds, watching me patiently, and I forced myself to look back until he stared his fill and felt satisfied with my answer. Then he nodded and smiled, his usual kindly way, and got up to start putting away the clean wet dishes.

Even though I squirmed in discomfort in my seat, the atmosphere didn’t change after our conversation. There was no heavy tense silence, no mistrustful or hostile glances. Just Seokjin humming to himself while he flitted around the room, wings fluttering with the movement, and Taehyung staring straight down into my soul with wide interested eyes.

Maybe they knew – that I was lying to them. At that point in time, it didn’t really matter.

Once I was let free of the cleaning duty, I ran away from the room as fast as I could get away without actually sprinting out. The ground floor and the courtyard seemed to be quiet and empty, and I aimlessly wandered around for a few moments, unseeing eyes staring off into space.

Seokjin didn’t seem to be the type to just let things go easily, and seeing as he already brought up Hwan twice, it was safe to assume he’d try it again – until he got an answer that satisfied him. The problem was, I didn’t even know what kind of thing was Hwan embroiled in. It was almost twenty years ago, but even my child eyes could see that he and his bonded were running away from Wuyun as fast as they could.

Seokjin was in the capital at the time. For him it probably felt a lot shorter than two decades, and whatever went down here to make a dragon and his knight run away, he’d probably remember it.

But on the other hand – I chose Bangtan for a reason. I chose them knowing I’d have to come to a point where I’d trust them with anything. And Seokjin did seem like a trustworthy choice. But he also could be hiding an anger at his kin – for indulging an enemy too much, teaching them things they had no business knowing. None of the dragons seemed especially thrilled about me having such knowledge, and I did have to wonder whether Hwan broke some unspoken rule by teaching me things dragons didn’t want humans to know.

Until I was sure of where Seokjin’s curiosity came from, I’d hold onto the information just for a little longer.

I looked back towards the kitchen somewhat wistfully. Maybe I was approaching this whole thing from the wrong angle – maybe Seokjin was the answer when it came to my teacher. He must know details of his exile, he might even know where he fled. He might tell me.

But then I thought back to their pained angry eyes when I kneeled with Jungkook, and the memory stopped me.

All in due time. I swore to rely on Jungkook – and I hoped that would be the first step towards stable ground.

Taehyung found many things interesting. He’s always been like that – for as long as he knew Seokjin hyung, he always called him his curious cub. The hyungs always fed his curiosities with books and trinkets, and stories too. He also knew people found him strange.

Taehyung never chose to speak too much in front of others. His mates knew what he thought and felt through their soulties, and no one else really mattered. No one else had to be privy to what he was doing, or what he was thinking. People tended to believe that an absence of words meant absence of thought, but in reality Taehyung was just tired of constantly explaining himself to people who didn’t really care.

And it’s been centuries since he last found something as interesting as Jungkook’s young bonded.

There used to be times when Taehyung hated his gifts. The hearts and souls of living beings rarely showed anything worth seeing, and more often than not pushed the dragon away. Greed, anger, spite, violence. Walking through the banquets and halls and streets, Taehyung sensed all different mixtures of all different unpleasant things. It made him nauseous. It was all too much.

Jinnie-hyung always told him that he had too much of a gentle heart for this world, but Tae wasn’t sure if that was true. Gentle creatures couldn’t toy with others’ minds the way he could.

Though there were uses for his magick, ones that he learnt to appreciate.

And the moment he saw Jungkook’s bonded, he sensed that there was something different about her soul. Brought up by one of the cruellest men Taehyung’s had the displeasure of meeting, moulded into a soldier since a young age, she should have been steeped in the bitter taste of evil.

And she was, in a way. There was an air of violence around her, but just as much suffering.

Taehyung sensed every lie she told, and yet every time he looked at her, she shined with genuineness. She was shifty and suspicious, and yet every fibre of his being told him he could trust her. He’s never before met such an interesting contradiction.

He understood, of course he did, why his hyungs were so worried about everything, but he knew this human woman was right for Jungkook the moment he sensed her bleeding weeping heart breaking after the ceremony with her father.

And when he looked to the young dragon, he knew that Kookie felt the same way. And Jinnie was beginning to grasp it too.

Taehyung spent several days in fear before he met her for the first time. Everyone around him was so shaken, and their turbulent emotions pressed in on him in a way that suffocated him until he choked on the thick rivulets of their dread. During that time he tried consulting the Moon several times, but no visions of her future came to him, and that only spiralled him further.

When She refused him guidance, that’s how Taehyung knew something serious was unfolding right before his eyes. His Wol had humour like that, always gently tugging him along a trail of breadcrumbs but never revealing too much. She liked to see him try.

Taehyung had come to see it as having to prove himself worthy of his gifts – after all, she did bless him with magick heavy and dangerous. It was of utmost importance that he kept his sight clear.

And the first time he did see her, it truly was like everything in his inner eye cleared up. The human that everyone feared – a scared girl with a shining heart. No, there wasn’t a reason for the way Hobi hyung’s chest burned with acidic worry, or the way nauseating disgust rolled off of Yoongi hyung.

Minnie came to him four nights in a row, asking whether he’d already seen something, but then he stopped.

Taehyung didn’t tell him that his first vision came in during the night Jungkook spent with his heart quivering sitting next to an unconscious Y/N in the infirmary, and he woke up with such clarity he saw Hobi hyung watching him with a suspicious gaze for the rest of the day.

She would do something glorious, and the Moon wanted him to trust her.

Namjoon sat down in the study with a heavy sigh, looking at the table buried under mountains of papers, scrolls and old books and wanting nothing more than to bash his head right into it. Yoongi-hyung slinked into the room behind him, but so far the older dragon kept his silence, eyes hazy and far-away.

They ended up sitting there in gloomy silence until Jin-hyung walked in, hands all wrinkly from water, but expression surprisingly relaxed.

“It was Kookie who told her about tiichir, the poor cub was so excited about it he talked her into it,” he said immediately as the door shut behind him and leant against one of the sturdy bookcases.

The two other occupants pursed their lips, but the budding storm died off in their bloodstreams. Namjoon smelled the way Yoongi’s scent evened out, the electric tang dissipating from the room and making it easier to breathe in.

Jungkook had spoken to him just an half hour ago, running after him straight off the dinner table with pride puffing up his chest. Namjoon knew how important it was for the dragon to have a bond with all the proper proceedings, he always hung off of their every word when they spoke of how things used to work before the empire, but he wasn’t sure this was the right person to realise his fantasies with. He just wished the young man was a bit more careful and a bit less trusting.

Namjoon’s protective instincts were flaring up almost constantly these past few days which always left him on edge, pushing him to collect his youngest and pull him away from his foolishness, but the fire dragon himself was quite flabbergasted with Kookie’s behaviour.

Yes, he was someone that approached world and people with the same indiscriminate way of thought. He was friendly, sometimes a little too much. He wanted to trust the best in people, and tended to get a little naïve with certain dragons and young knights. But he’s never been foolish.

Jungkook was the one dragon in the thunder that rivalled Yoongi-hyung’s protectiveness and possessiveness. Those two could get kind of intense when triggered, and they had troubles letting anyone closer to their mates. Jungkook was fiercely competitive, and protected his hoard with almost crazed devotion. He once even bit Taehyung’s leg until it was bleeding because the red dragon thought it would be funny to mess with his gems.

So Namjoon just couldn’t comprehend how he could be so blindly chasing after this bond, completely unquestioningly assimilating this person into their midst and being so happy and satisfied about it. It just didn’t make sense for him.

He caught him almost scenting her outside the emperor’s lounge. That was no light matter.

The dragon sighed again, and this time he did lay his head down forehead first on the hard surface of the dark wood. Yoongi was still eerily quiet, but his heart spoke for him where it wreaked havoc in Namjoon’s own chest.

“The emperor wants us to train her,” Namjoon ended up mumbling. The dark-haired dragon’s head suddenly snapped towards him, as if those were the magic words to bring him out of his stupor.

“What do you mean? Isn’t the Academy there to do that?” Jin-hyung’s remark cut through the stagnant air, “All those teachers and generals there.” The pink-haired man scoffed and leaned back into the furniture.

“She is to attend general classes, but he wants the brunt of her training to be our responsibility,” the thunder leader reiterated, repeating the words he heard earlier that evening from the sovereign himself.

“Why in the hell is he isolating her with us so much?” Yoongi’s question was a valid one, but unfortunately Namjoon didn’t have an answer for it – even though he had an inkling. He only knew that the man was invested in her Qing Long career, and he’d be monitoring their lives very closely.

“Control,” Seokjin ended up biting out bitterly, “It’s about control. We can’t do anything if there’s a human attached to our every step, telling him everything we do.” And yes, Namjoon has been going towards that conclusion too.

“It’s most likely,” the fire dragon admitted, “We have to be very careful about what we do and say from now on. At least where she can see or hear.” Yoongi sighed, but as resigned as the sound was, Namjoon still could see the way his fingers jerked and cramped with barely concealed fury.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Jin-hyung muttered, as if that was supposed to help them calm down, “you know Kangdae has been very snippy lately about us not being monitored enough with the lack of riders in our thunder.” Namjoon looked to his oldest hyung and felt his heart thaw a little. Contrary to what the maknaes believed, he wasn’t fearless – in actuality he was afraid of most of everything, but it always was the light dragon that stood by his side and supported him when he needed it the most. He was no one without his Jin-hyung, and he’d gladly spend the rest of eternity loving the dragon.

But now, here in this room, none of them looked too happy about the circumstances (though nothing could rival the fury in the black-haired dragon’s eyes).

Jin-hyung, on the other hand, seemed to be almost a little too serene. Namjoon knew that concentrated look on his face. There was something brewing in him, something he knew he’d have to wait for the older dragon to share on his own terms.

But he noticed how inclined he seemed to be towards the human now. Same as Taehyung, who seemed to just accept everything that was happening and took it in stride almost terrifyingly easily.

Their safety lay on Namjoon’s shoulders – and he’d tear himself apart to make sure they stayed out of harm's way.

“Well,” finally Yoongi spoke, voice level but strained, “Nothing left for us but to play along. For now. When the opportunity strikes, if it’s necessary – I’ll deal with her.”

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suikung · 2 months ago

Note

Hey hey heyyy! Look who made it UWU *gets shot*

Anywayyyy <3 Ummmm I got a thing if you're interested. Not sure how detailed (or not) requests should be but here's a thing: Itachi x sister (I'm thinking his twin or a year younger). Let's scrap the massacre plan lol it never happened. I just want some goo noncon or dubcon where the perfect heir corrupts his sister? A+ if they're found and the clan just accepts them because she gets pregnant and they're happy to add more to the clan. Loss of virginity, cunninglingus, spit, breeding, (feel free to remove anything you don't wanna write). I just have bro Itachi brainrot recently lol esp due to that one fic

xoxo

Val ❤

|Noncon in the beginning, dubcon rest.

|I didn’t forget about you Val, sorry for the wait

All a blur was that day when the head of the Uchiha clan found you outside their compound. The man which you came to know as Fugaku was patrolling the surroundings with his eldest son Itachi. Without thought they brought you back to the their home and assimilated you as one of their own. Life within the clan was never troubling after all you had grown close to Itachi being a just a year younger than him. Life was well, everything one did the other did too. Although you weren’t twins it was as if you both were born conjoined at the hip. Time went on and Itachi’s responsibilities grew as future head of the Uchiha. His time spent with you dwindled but he always managed to squeeze in just a little time with you.

It was a slow and tedious process. After everyone drew to their quarters for the night, he would make a detour to yours. Lying by your side, he couldn’t help but notice the way you had grown since they first took you in. You weren’t that little girl from before, boxy shape. Body resembling the ups and downs of hills, outlined by the blanket that rest atop you. No matter what you always remained that sweet docile girl who dotted on him. Staying close by while he trained to ensure you wouldn’t take more than a minute to get to him if he got injured. The girl who spent hours in the kitchen making him his favorite meal after training, never allowing him to set a single fork for himself. He loved you as much as a brother could, until he couldn’t no more. Every passing second his heart yearned to feel you more than just what a hug gave him.

Tonight was the night. Itachi had reached a point in himself where he could no longer go on living like this. His steps were quiet but you awoke just as he laid down next to you. “Are you all done for the day Itachi?” Your voice was low and groggy as you came out of your interrupted sleep. “Yes, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be right next to you.” These past few nights, Itachi had been inching closer and closer to you, getting you comfortable to the idea of being cradled into him. Even so you weren’t opposed, he made you feel safe. He’s always protected you just as a brother is expected to do, like he said that first night he wrapped his arm around you, “Right now I’ll be protecting you from the cold.”

His hands found their usual place around your waist, his body pressed upon your back, his nose now blessed with your aroma. These first minutes were the calm before the storm. Settling back into your rhythmic breathing, Itachi knew he was in the clear to move forward. His arm moved down to your hips, hand coming up under your shirt like a snake. Your warm bare skin burning his cold hand. Unknowingly sucking in your stomach to create distance between your body and the unknown cause of the drop in temperature. It created no such thing as Itachi continued to trail his hand up the middle of your body, hand only stopping when he reached the valley between your breasts. Maybe he overestimated himself, he didn’t plan this far. His heart threatening to burst out of his body, ears non-stop ringing. What would his family, the clan say, if they say their perfect future leader elbow deep inside his sister’s shirt. Fingers twitching as he battled with desire and morals. Who Itachi was in the dead of night, mattered to no one but him. With that split decision his fingers placed their grip around your soft breast, nipples hardening as his palm grazed over them. A shudder passed his entire body as he felt the way your breast melted and molded into his hand. Not a single touch to his body but the blood rushed to his cock, thoughts plagued of how you looked underneath all the clothes. He knew what ever he imagined wouldn’t compare to the real thing.

His hips pressed harder against your ass, seeking any relief for his pulsating cock. Movements slow and careful as to not wake you, fingers now focused stimulating your nipples, round and round. Concentration broken from a sudden jolt, pulling his body away from yours. It was sudden, his eyes focusing to the your backlit body hunched away from him, eyes with an indistinguishable expression. Was it sadness? Disappointment? Confusion? Itachi couldn’t tell, and he sure couldn’t think of a good reason to explain why your brother’s hand was touching an area Mikoto had told you was just for you to know about. But he knew you, a few well put together words from him and you’d understand his actions even if they weren’t agreeable.

The cover was clutched to your chest as you continued to stare in silence at him, your voice finally finding an escape out of your throat. “Itachi, what were you doing…?” A soft but unstable tone, he could hear the way you tried to not impose any accusations onto him. Of course you wouldn’t, you cared and loved him too much to outright see him in a negative light. Silence embraced the room, only the cackling of the candle behind you coming to its end.

“Well even if I tried to explain it to you, your precious head wouldn’t get it. Best to not to worry my dear sister, it’s just a new way of relaxing after training. You wouldn’t let me continue to be worn out from everything I do to keep this clan safe right?” He knew the ins and outs of your brain, he knew just the way for you to disperse any wariness you might hold in this situation. You know to the extent he pushed himself for the clan, you’d been there first hand to treat his injurie. Head now hung low, how could you continue to suspect your brother of anything malicious? “I’ve just never done this for you? Is it a new method, why not during the day instead?” The blanket now lowered, indication you weren’t guarding yourself against him. “This is something new I came up with. You understand me best dear sister. Having been there to work with me after every intense battle, I know you would be here to help me.” There it was. He knew he had done it, with that Itachi had touched a place within you that would never go against him. Your heart wouldn’t let you; betraying the man who saved you. “Yes I understand.” Closing the distance between you two, bodies now mere inches from each other, you waited for Itachi to give any instructions or make any movement.

Eyes darted towards the bed, signaling you to lay back down. Flat on your back now, Itachi came between your legs. A pair of hands now running under your shirt, to resume their previous objective. He could feel again the hardened nipple he was forced to abandon and made sure to have both of them receive the same attention. Shirt pushed up to your neck, he could now see them on full display. The rush of cold air awoke goosebumps along your body. His fingers resumed their carousel motions, a new found feeling blossoming within you. Soft mews left your lips, a foreign feeling growing below, a need for touch. Itachi wasted no time to burn this scene into his mind, eyes flashing as his sharingan engraved it to memory. Lips touched down on one, now baring resemblance to a thirsty man. His mouth worked diligently to suck on your nipple, tongue brushing on it. Switching to the next one, his finger now grazed with easy against the lubricated bub. Movements grew erratic along with the sounds escaping from you. His mouth came down on yours, drowning out your moans. So innocent you were, he hadn’t even touched you elsewhere. Lips crashing against each other, no single pass to follow as you had never engaged in kissing. His lips slowed down, leading you into it. It was simple, you understood what you had to do. Teeth biting at your lower lip, tongue intruding in on your own. It was a kiss of pent up desire, there was so much he had wanted to do, the one composed shinobi was slowly losing himself in you, he needed to be intertwined in with you in anyway possible. He pulled away, you could clearly see now his flushed face just as he could see yours. Those now rosy lips of yours, he parted with his thumb on your lower lip. “Open for me.” Itachi spit in your mouth. “Swallow it and let me see.” His thumb pressed down, signaling for you to open so he could see you had down just as he said. A small smile spread across your mouth as he praised you.

Pulling himself off of you, he went to the edge of the bed, grabbing your ankles to slide you down. Legs now dangling off the edge of the bed, Itachi on his knees between your legs. His hands shot up to your waist band, dragging them down slowly as to enjoy this reveal for himself. The soft skin on your thighs comes into view, then the rest of your legs. Hands glided from your ankles up to the top of your thighs, sliding down the middle to get you to open them more. He could now see even more clearly what he’d been waiting for. Your simple cotton underwear were damped from his previous foreplay. You could only peer over yourself to try to get an idea of what his next move might be. “Itachi…?” You received no verbal response, only the feeling of his hands pulling your underwear to the side and fingers spreading you open and his tongue pressing up against you. A hitched breath came out, it felt as though the feeling from before was being paid attention to. Thighs instinctively closing around him, but they stood no chance against the Uchiha’s strength, with his free hand he pushed open your leg.

He started slow, almost as to ease you and himself into it. But it wasn’t enough for him, he needed to set free his carnal desires. His pace quickened, your hips now bucking against his face. He returned to the starved man he was on your lips. One hand now holding your hips down as he licked at your clit. Itachi was no stranger to this, and he thanked whatever God there was that he wasn’t. He wanted to draw out all the moans he could out of you, wanted your inexperienced body to become overstimulated with his relentless pursuit over you. Itachi could see what pace had the most impact on your body and decided to stick with it. His tongue came up and down, never breaking out of the rhythmic cycle. It was such a horrifying moment for you, it was something new and you could feel the built up pressure threatening to come undone. “Wait! Itachi please wait!” It was futile, your pleas fell on deaf ears, and it was much more useless to try to pry away from his grip. He didn’t care, keeping his rhythm he knew what was looming close. Pleas mixed with moaning drowned out in his mind, the silence breaking out of his focus. Thighs closing in around him, every muscle he could see tensing up. His tongue keeping the movement until you began to squirm from the overstimulation. Even if you were laying down on the bed, Itachi could tell the moment you sunk in and relaxed into it.

You couldn’t understand what had just come over you, but it felt like it took everything out of you, good or bad. Chest coming up and down, breath still erratic, but you could see Itachi standing back up, seeing him made a wave of embarrassment run down your body as the realization dawned that you were fully naked and he wasn’t. Almost as if he knew, his shirt came off first, revealing his carefully crafted body. Years of hard work present in the way his abdomen and chest were littered with every muscle present within him. Itachi wasn’t an overwhelmingly big man, but the position in which you were left in seemed to grow his presence thrice of its usual size. Or perhaps it was the way you seemed to shrink as his eyes continued to watch you dutifully as he took off his pants, only leaving his underwear. “Come here and sit up.” The haze ever so present from your orgasm left you crawling over to the edge where Itachi stood.

His cock twitched within its confinement, you just had to know what you were doing. Crawling over to him with your half-lidded eyes, like some slut silently begging to get fucked then and there. Eye level with Itachi’s abdomen now, despite only the moon and candle gifting you with their light, it wasn’t easy to miss the bulge in his underwear. His movements were rough, hand bringing your face up to his, lips crashing down on each other once again, his free hand coming down to stroke himself. Leaving his cock, his hand came down to search for yours, never breaking the kiss. His hand guides yours to the base, eyes widening as the new found hardness in your grip. What could you even say to him? Sensing the hesitation in your grip, Itachi broke the kiss. Your eyes looked at his, waiting for any explanation, any sense of direction. God, he could cum just at the very sight in front of him, his beloved sister’s face still holding onto that wave of innocence as his cock was settled into her hand. “What do you want me to do now Itachi?” Your sweet voice broke him out of his thoughts, hand coming back down over yours. Leading the way up and down his cock, fingers tracing over the tip spreading the leaking cum. Soft moans came out of him, after so many nights imagining his hand was your own. Your face was brought closer, “Open your mouth, hollow your cheeks and suck it.” Such vague instructions left you stagnant before trying to do as he said. The tip resting on your tongue allowed the precum onto your taste buds, a salty flavor invading your mouth. Tongue gliding up and down the underside of his cock, hand still jerking the rest that couldn’t fit in. His hips bucked further and further, forcing more of himself into you. Forced now to breathe through your nose while tears erupted from your eyes. He took control, fingers intertwining themselves in your hair, a tight grip to ensure you wouldn’t move as he used your mouth.

“Fuck…” His groans came deep from within him. Sounds you only heard once before in the dead of night as you passed Itachi’s room. The realization of what he was doing made your face warm.

His pace unmatched, nose almost connecting with his pubic bone. However he pulled back, just as it seemed he was reaching the end. Spit connected his cock to your mouth as he pulled himself out, coughs erupted as you tried to control the invasion on your throat. “I’m saving it just for you. I’ll make sure you finish tonight full of me.” Pinned back underneath Itachi, he glided his tip through your entrance. Swirling it around your clit and he suckled on the junction of your neck. Biting down, Itachi wanted to leave a mark, wanted everyone to know exactly who it was that left you full of their cum. His fingers took a quick swipe, feeling the wetness that had accumulated with the short stimulation of your clit. Attention locked on his tongue soothing the bite on your neck, you didn’t notice as he positioned himself at your entrance. Only with the pain shooting through your body, did you grab at his biceps nails digging into his skin, ensuring you left him with his own marks. “Stop!” He didn’t listen, every few seconds inserting himself more and more into you. Every inch ripping your hymen, and you felt it. The excruciating pain never subduing, face falling side to side as you had no escape from him. A ringing froze your antics, hands coming off of him to cup your stinging cheek. Teary eyes looking at Itachi as he bottomed out for the first time in you. “Stop crying and take it. You agreed to this so you’ll lay there and let your brother dear fill you up.” He began pulling back slowly, relieving the pressure against your walls. “Leave you dripping with my seed inside of you.” Thrusting back into you, ripping a scream out of you. “P-please! It hurts too much. Please Itachi get off of me!” A small twinge of guilt coiled within him, he hated seeing you in pain and all of a sudden he was the catalyst. Guilt ceasing to exist as he pummeled once more into you. His thrust was forceful, pushing in with all he had.

His lips found their place back on your neck, his chests on yours and free hand back on your clit. So many sensations at once silenced any scream of pain, or moan of pleasure wanting to come out. Nails dragging down his back as a way to funnel any of this pain back to him. To no avail, it only helped to increase his speed. “I’m gonna fuck you so good. God, you don’t know what you do to me. Always acting so innocent, forcing me to keep a perfect facade around you.” Body raising from yours, legs thrown over his shoulders to drill himself in deeper. He came down again, forcing your knees up to your chest as the rest hung over his shoulders. A small layer of sweat covered his face, his body exploding with heat. His voice low and dangerous, “It ends now.”

His cock continued to tear you apart, relishing in the feeling in your tight inexperienced walls. He wanted nothing more than for you to never be desired by another man, and what better way than to leave you with your own Uchiha baby. Push back from the clan didn’t matter to him anymore, no one would go against it. No one would dare to challenge Itachi Uchiha’s on who he decided to continue the clan.

Itachi gives it his all, fucking you deep into the bed, groaning into your ear and whispering reaffirmations of how good your pussy is gonna look with his cum inside. His words were indecent, never had you heard these profanities slip from his mouth. Mind becoming hazy from the overbearing pain overlapping with increasing pleasure as this new position allowed him to graze against a new found spot within you. Slick mixed with blood creating lewd sounds resounding throughout the room, he wasn’t worried about anyone hearing. You were smart enough to pick a room in the west wing next to his and the rest of the family resided in the east wing.

Tip relentlessly hitting that spot within you brought back that familiar feeling from early. The pain was almost completely overlapped, leaving the tension in your stomach to increase. “I’m…Itachi” You didn’t need to finish that sentence through your broken sobs. Itachi knew and so was he. Maintaining the same pace, you realized it was much more different this time. The tension grew stronger, something else daring to come along with it. With a final slam against you, Itachi had ripped a second orgasm out of you, he felt the way his legs grew wetter as you let out a breathy moan. It pushed him over the edge knowing he made you cum like that the second time around. Through broken kisses, Itachi chased his own release. “I promise to never leave you empty. Always have that quiet hole dripping with my cum. Even after I know I fucked my baby into you I won’t stop.” The wave of your orgasm was replaced by the overstimulation is his cock increasing in speed. Walls clenching tighter around him with increased sensitivity, inviting him to fill them. His warm cum is fucked right into your womb. You’d become the little sister who he would from now on breed, never letting your abandoned hole live another day being empty.

His body collapsed next to yours, fingers coming around to push the mix of liquids back into you. His lips coming to trace against your jaw as you laid there motionless, no amount of laps around your mind could help you understand what had happened. Sleep puts an end to your thoughts, eyes weighing down after everything.

It became a regular occurrence, almost every night Itachi spent it inside of you. And just like he said, you came to be with a child. Informing Mikoto of the delay in your cycle, led you to where you were now. Celebrating the news of your child with Itachi, a smile forced upon your face when you were met with Itachi’s warning eyes to act correctly around everyone. They were here for you, to congratulate you for helping the clan, even if it was out of wedlock, no one dared to speak about it. So there you sat, drowning out all of the praises around you, hoping now your condition would steer Itachi clear of you.

#naruto #tw.dark content #akatsuki x reader #naruto shippuden #tw. rap3 #tw.incest #itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #yandere naruto #itachi smut #itachi x you

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slutteok · 1 year ago

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Long Time Coming (rockstar yungi au)

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pairing ✭ dom!yunho x afab!reader x dom!mingi

summary ✭ Things get a little steamy in the green room after your last show on tour

content ✭ smut 18+ MDNI

word count ✭ 9.3k

warnings ✭ smut, unprotected sex, mingi is VERY rough, choking, slapping, heavy degradation, threesome,

tags ✭ praise kink, degradation kink, rough oral sex, rough sex, thigh and ass slapping, polygamy, childhood best friends to lovers, rockstar yungi au, non idol au, dubcon, power dynamics, under negotiated kink, throat fucking, multiple fem orgasms, yunho and mingi have big dicks, size kink, cervix fucking, fluff at the very end

notes ✭ it's a little more yunho centered than mingi, but please enjoy anyways <3

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When you were 6 years old, you met these two little boys. They were cute you thought, and the three of you became insanely fast friends. The older of the two had always been fond of you, always fawning, and fretting over you, he was quick to defend, protect and comfort you, while the younger of the two, usually kept his distance physically from you, but that’s not to say he wasn’t also fond of you. He loved you in his own way, much different to how he loved your mutual friend.

If you were to tell your 6 year old self that in 18 years time you’d be in a band, doing what you loved more than anything in the world, alongside those two boys, you’d never believe yourself. You’d actually call yourself a liar.

But if you were to tell yourself at 16 years old that in 8 years, you’d be lying underneath the older boy, with your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails clawing down his back so hard it drew blood, you’d believe it… mostly because even at 16 that’s exactly what you were doing.

Today was one of the last days of the tour. You and Yunho laid together in the hotel room bed, both naked, your legs still tangled with each other and the sheets. Yunho snored softly in your ear, his face half buried into your neck, as your arms wrapped around him, his fingers twitching against the bare skin on your sides, making you tense up as it tickles sometimes.

A knock on the hotel door is what inevitably wakes Yunho up. He groans, pulling away from you. You watch as he sits up, and stretches his arms above his head, groaning and arching his back. You watch in awe as his back muscles seem to taunt you. You sighs, sitting up and looking at him.

“Morning.” he lets his arms fall to his side, and he turns to look back at you. You hold the covers tightly to your chest, before leaning forward and quickly capturing his lips with yours. You both giggle a little, before another knock on the door sounds. Yunho rolls his eyes, “coming, coming..” his morning voice was deep, and gruff, something you learned gave you massive butterflies. You slip out of Yunho’s bed, pulling your clothes on from last night.

“Yunho, where’s y/n? Have you seen them?” Mingi asks, looking around from the threshold of the door for you. Yunho, now fully dressed, shakes his head as he opens the door. Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes and storming off. Yunho closes the door, and hurries back to you, beckoning you to leave. You nod, and you follow him out into the hallway, before Yunho starts running towards Mingi, giving you an opening to hurry back into your own room.

You take a quick shower, washing off as much of Yunho that you possibly could. You could swear you still smelled like him, though, even after washing yourself 3 times. You changed into new clothes, brushed your hair quickly, and applied your usual amount of makeup before finishing up your hair.

“y/n!” Mingi knocks on your door, and you have to physically fight off the smile that is peaking through the corner of your lips. You hop out of the bathroom, and swing your door open, revealing your done up self to Mingi and Yunho. Yunho looks away from you, and you catch a glimpse of his red ears. Mingi just looks frustrated.

“What? I was sleeping. Are you dying?” You question why Mingi was so adamant on finding you this morning, but you couldn’t let him know why. Maybe someday… but probably not anytime soon. Just like you couldn’t let Yunho know about you and Mingi either.

“W-what? No? Can you focus?” Mingi scolds you, and you stifle a laugh, raising your eyebrow at the younger male, who was actually still older than you by a month or so- give or take.

“I’m focused.” You’re still a bit confused by why he was looking around for you. Your eyes dart to Yunho, and he shrugs, before walking to his room. You wanted to chase after him, you were tired of pretending. You were tired of pretending to both of them.

You were the one who wanted to tell the other about the other, but they were the ones holding back- like they were scared something terrible would happen to the group. You had a good feeling though, they had been friends much longer than before you came along. They had spent essentially their entire lives together, and you can recall that one time Yunho’s mom actually thought the boys were dating, because at that point in time- there was not one thing the two didn’t share.

“They want us down at the venue early, to do soundcheck.” Mingi snaps you back into reality, and you nod, furrowing your brows just a bit. Mingi looks you up and down, then looks to where Yunho’s room is. He smirks before grabbing your chin. A small whine leaves your lips, as he brings you closer to him. You watch his eyes flicker to Yunho's room once more, before pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes instantly shut as Mingi’s familiarity comes crashing over you.

You couldn’t lie, you were sore… so fucking sore, but that had never stopped you before. It honestly had been a while since you and Mingi were intimate, and you can tell that he’d been pent up for a while. He came looking for you this morning just to fuck you, and get on with his day.

His hand moves from your chin, down to your throat, and his tongue presses into your mouth, meeting yours in a battle of dominance as he gently pushes you back into your room. You oblige, taking a step back, while Mingi’s other hand wrapped around you, pulling you tightly to his chest.

He pulls his lips away from you, moving his hand back up to your face, his thumb stroking your bottom lip gently, before hooking on your bottom teeth. Your face twitches slightly, your eyebrows turning upwards as your lips lock around his thumb.

“Where were you, pretty baby?” He croons, leaning close to your face, his eyes focused on your lips around his thumb. He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, before pressing his index and middle finger into your mouth. You willingly take them, staring up at him as your tongue moves skillfully around his fingers. He lets out a deep sigh, his hand around you coming to your hip to squeeze you, eliciting a small moan to leave your mouth. He pulls his fingers out, then wipes them off on your shirt. You scowl at him, before rolling your eyes at him.

“I was asleep. Is that a crime?” You retort, turning around and going to sit on your bed. You weren’t lying… you were asleep, just not in your bed.

“Oh give me a break.” Mingi rolls his eyes and scoffs, sitting next to you and turning to look at you. You follow suit, turning to face him.

“What?”

“You weren’t in your room, at least.” Mingi growls and you roll your eyes again.

“it's not a crime to not be in my room all the time.” You argue, and he scoffs. he puts his hands on your shoulders and quickly turns you around, before pushing you onto the bed. you gasp at the sudden movements, and you know you're about to get pounded mercilessly. though you were excited, Yunho had destroyed you the last three nights and mingi was just a tad bigger and thicker than Yunho.

“I bet you were out being a little whore, huh? you just had to sneak past not just me, but Yunho? what would your little boyfriend think of his little girlfriend getting fucked by her best friend while she's away on tour huh?” he was just throwing insults after insults at you, and you couldn't say you hated it because you were soaked through your panties.

“what would your little boyfriend do if i sent him a video of me fucking his little toy?” Mingi hisses, and there's a sharp pain in your asscheek for a split second, making you bite down on your lower lip so hard it almost broke skin. you feel mingi’s hand come down to your asscheek again, another sharp pain shooting through you- harder this time because that cheek was particularly sore because of Yunho.

“Mingi,” you choke out, and Mingi laughs at the sound of your voice dying in your throat. you let out another little moan as his hands grab your ass, spreading you apart and massaging you just for a moment. his hands release you, then you feel his hands grab your hips. your head reels at the feeling of his hands on you, completely ignoring this fact that he had flipped you over onto your back.

In an instant, as you're coming out of the daze, you look down at your body, and see he’d already taken your pants off. your eyes widen, and he chuckles, seeing your confusion.

“you're so fucking easy, y/n.” Mingi chuckles dryly, grabbing the back of your thighs, and pushing them up and against your body. He pulls his right hand from your thighs, creating space between you two again. He smiles, and sighs happily seeing you bent like a pretzel for him. “I think I should just leave you here, soaked and desperate.” Mingi taunts, and your eyes rolls into the back of your head and you groan- obviously frustrated with him.

“Mingi, i just know your cock is painfully throbbing, please let me take care of it.” you whine and pout, making sure to stay quiet as people pass by your room. Mingi laughs again, leaning over you, caging you in before capturing your lips with his. He kisses you hard, and with force, eliciting a moan out of you against his lips before he pulls away. you inhale sharply as you feel another sharp pain hit your inner thigh as Mingi’s hand makes contact with it.

“you don't know anything,” he laughs dryly, pulling his hands from you and watching as you sit up, your legs dangling off the bed. “You should be there when I need you, and we wouldn't have this problem.” he commands and your eyes widen a little. you roll your eyes though, and he scoffs.

“I have other things I have to deal with, you know. I can't just drop everything when you want to fuck.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. Mingi rolls his eyes, and his hand grabs your chin, again, before moving down to your throat. He leans over you, putting his mouth next to your ear, his breathing tickling you.

“All you are is a hole to me, so I don't care what your excuse is. you’ll drop whatever you're doing, no matter what, if i come looking for you.” Mingi hisses into your ear, you shudder, your eyes fluttering closed and a moan leaving your pretty lips, before he forcefully pushes you down on the bed. “got it? that's our new agreement- and because you annoyed me, i’m not gonna fuck you. I'll go find something else to use.” Mingi says, looking down at your trembling shape on the bed, licking his bottom lip. you lift your head to watch him touch himself briefly through his pants, and you gulp. You wanted him, but if he was seriously about to go fuck a fan, you could easily go find Yunho, and he’d be more than happy to fuck your brains out.

Mingi rolls his eyes, turning around and swiftly leaving your room. you sit up, in a daze, wondering what the hell just came over both of you. you run your hands through your hair, and let out a shaky breath before deciding to just take care of the longer effects mingi left you with.

“y/n!” Yunho comes bounding over to you with a wide smile, he grabs your waist and picks you up, embracing you tightly. You laugh, clinging onto him tightly as he spins the two of you around. Your set had just finished for the night, it was such an amazing show- the best one you guys had yet.

You can't lie, you were exhausted. Yunho kept you up late last night, and when Mingi came into your room this morning you thought you’d have a chance to nap but Mingi had left you so bothered, you hardly had a chance to even rest- your legs had felt like jello all day.

Yunho sets you down, leaning forward and kissing your forehead, before leaning down to your ear.

“how about round 2?” he asks, and honestly, how could you deny him- not only that, you were still worked up from mingi’s words and touch. you nod, excitedly and Yunho grins, standing up straight. He grabs your hand and basically drags you into your green room. you both knew Mingi wouldn't show up to the green room after some time- he only came to the green room at the very end of the night.

As Yunho opens the door, Mingi is stood there, with his arms crossed- presumably waiting for you. Yunho instantly drops your hand, tucking his hand behind his back quickly.

“h-how did- what?” Yunho stammers, feeling embarrassed by mingi’s sudden appearance in the place the least expected it.

“Can I talk to y/n about something? privately?” Mingi asks, and Yunho looks down at you, his eyes suddenly narrowing at you, then darting over to Mingi. you gulp loudly, and wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

“Whatever you say can be said in front of Yunho, too.” you stumble over your words a bit, and the two men look down at you- confused. Mingi shakes his head, and Yunho glances between the two of you.

“y/n!” you hear a familiar voice come from behind you, and your eyes widen to probably the size of the moon. if you turned around right now, you’d be faced with your latest boyfriend you left back at home. you did like him… just not enough to not fuck Mingi and Yunho while you were away.

“ohhh… you're here!” you turn slowly, forcing a smile on your face, and you skip over to him, you raise your arms to hug him but he stops you.

“I'm not here to hug and kiss and make up.” your boyfriend glares at you, and you feel a pit in your stomach. you felt like you were going to be sick.

“then… Why are you here? why did you come all the way out here?” you question, your voice trembling just a bit. you shoot a quick look behind you to see Mingi and Yunho; with conflicting emotions on their faces. you turn back around to face your boyfriend.

“because i’m not stupid y/n, i know there's something going on but i just don't know what. you're sleeping with someone, fans or whatever. I know you are.” he begins, and you instantly freeze. unbeknownst to you, Mingi glances at Yunho, then at you, then back to Yunho- whose eyes never once left you. Not that that was strange, Yunho had always had his eyes glued on you, but it was the way Yunho looked at you that made his heart swell in his chest. Yunho was infatuated with you… but so was Mingi. A tinge of jealousy crept through him, but he very quickly dismissed it.

“No, I'm not. you can't just claim a statement like that and accuse me of being a cheater without any proof.” you fight back, shaking your head. you could feel your emotions rising in your chest- you were still a little on edge from the adrenaline of the concert.

your boyfriend reaches for you, and grabs the collar of your shirt. Yunho and Mingi both instantly respond, and you freeze again- the older boys standing behind you to protect you if something were to happen.

“Relax your hound dogs,” your boyfriend rolls his eyes, and you can't help but smile at the nickname for the boys- it was funny. Then you remembered where you were, and who you were with the second they stepped back. He pulls your shirt down just a bit, past your collarbones, exposing the marks Yunho had left all over your chest- marking his territory.

“I fucking knew it!” your boyfriend exclaims, pulling his hands from your shirt- it popping back into place. your eyes begin to tear up, and your eyebrows furrow, shaking your head. you didn't even understand why you were crying- you hadn't been invested in him in a long time… you’d been on tour so long you almost forgot you were even dating someone. “we’re done. you're a fucking cheater. i should have known better than to date a damn musician.” he scoffs, as he walks off. you watch him with misty eyes, before Yunho steps in front of you.

Mingi is quick though, and he pulls your shirt down too. his eyes widen, his lips part slightly, and you look up at him, with fear in your eyes- hopefully he didn't recognize yunho’s mark.

“Jesus christ… is that where you were this morning? getting fucked?” Mingi sneers, his eyes flickering to yours for a moment- the jealousy flashes through Mingi again and he clenches his jaw. Yunho on the other hand, was absolutely fascinated by the marks he left- successfully marking you as his. He loved seeing it, he loved doing it, and for as long as you let him, he will continue to mark his territory.

“no, I was actually asleep this morning.” you stumble over your words, feeling your tears start to well up- you got caught in an elaborate lie and now you were terrified of Yunho and Mingi finding out about each other.

“whatever. I don't care.” Mingi mutters, dropping his hand from your shirt. He looks down at you, then at Yunho, then he leaves without another word. you sniffle, and blink your eyes a few times, watching him leave. Lately Mingi had been distant, and you wonder why- did he know about you and Yunho?

“y/n…” Yunho’s voice snaps you out of your spiraling thoughts and you look at him, feeling a little dazed. you watch as Yunho's jaw clenches, and his eyes move down your body. you shiver under his gaze.

the way he’s looked at you since you both were 16 was intoxicating. he would literally undress you with his eyes and you could see he was just thinking about pounding you into the mattress, or whatever was closest, until you were a stupid, drooling mess. But, you didn't know, he thought about this for a longer time- when you suggested it he was thrilled to know this could be reality.

“Yunho,” you start, but Yunho shakes his head, putting his hand on your chest, and pushing you back into the green room. You oblige, and watch as he kicks the door closed. “What are you doi-” you’re cut off as he grabs your hips, and smashes his lips into yours in a fevered manner. you can't help but melt into the kiss, despite your almost panicky state.

You cling to Yunho like never before as he presses into you harder, instantly deepening the kiss, a low groan coming from Yunho's mouth. He squeezes you, making you gasp, and he takes his chance to shove his tongue into your mouth- this time making you moan in response. your tongues dance together, allowing Yunho to take the lead.

You try to focus on the feeling of Yunho’s fingers on your body, relishing in every since touch he gets on your bare skin but between his fingers, his mouth, his scent, mixed with your emotions from your now fresh breakup, and even the tension Mingi had built up in you earlier that you never got rid of no matter how hard you tried, your mind was reeling. it was hard to focus all on one thing, and before you knew it, Yunho was pulling your pants off and kneeling in front of you.

“W-what are you doing?” You look down at him, and he looks up at you, with a smile. He points to his face, and your eyebrows furrow. “what?” he points again- you could swear you could see a tail wagging. “Yunho, what?” you try to ask him for clarification because you genuinely are confused.

“Sit, idiot.” Yunho laughs, grabbing you by your hips and pulling you to him. He grabs your thigh, lifting it up and placing your foot on the couch not even giving you a second to protest before his mouth is on your clit, eating you ravenously.

Your body jolts, and you catch yourself as a loud moan is suddenly ripped out of you. Yunho gave you no time to prepare for this, and that was on purpose. You look down at him, and his face is buried between your legs, his eyes closed as he enjoys himself, feeling content at the way your body responds to him so eagerly, and the sound of your moans he loves so much.

“Fuck, yunho~” you moan, and he pulls away to catch his breath, looking up at you. You run a hand through his hair, before taking a fistful of his hair and pushing him back towards your core. He laughs, before slowly, agonizingly slow, licks between your folds, until his tongue flicks over your clit- making your hips jolt.

“You're so fucking beautiful.” Yunho groans, before plunging two long, spindly fingers inside of you, making you gasp and moan loudly; not quite used to the two fingers off the bat. your grip on his hair tightens and he chuckles, attaching himself to you again, as he works his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck, Yunho,” you exclaim, moaning out his name as his fingers curl inside you, before he starts pumping them inside of you faster. You can feel yourself getting increasingly wetter with each thrust of his fingers inside of you, his fingers and even knuckles are coated in your slick.

Yunho quickly pulls his fingers out of you, and pulls away. You whine at the loss of his mouth and fingers, you glance down at him, and he has the most mischievous grin on his lips as he takes in your fucked out expression. Your breathing is heavy, and irregular, like you had just ran a mile, but all Yunho did to you was finger you and eat you out- he knew you were never this exhausted this quickly.

“I didn’t tire my puppy out, did I?” he grins, standing up to his full height. You follow him with your eyes, tilting your head back to look up at him. You shake your head, and swallow hard. Your eyes flicker to his fingers that were covered in your own fluids. “Good girl.” He whispers, before presenting his fingers to you, gently pressing the pads of his fingers on your bottom lip. You part your lips, and Yunho pushes his fingers into your mouth.

Your tongue darts around his digits, lapping up any evidence of your arousal left on his fingers. His eyes never leave your lips, he would never find the courage to tell you how many ways he’s imagined your mouth on him since he hit puberty. He was always jealous of the boyfriends you brought around when he was here all along. From as far as he knew, he was the only one to make you orgasm… more than once at least.

“You're mine.” Yunho suddenly grunts, ripping his fingers out of your mouth and grabbing your chin forcefully, making you look up at him. The grip he had on you almost hurt, but you didn’t mind it. Your hand instinctively makes its home on the groin of his pants, gently moving your hand back and forth, creating some sort of friction for Yunho.

Yunho swats your hand away, and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling his other hand away from your chin. You swallow hard, and your eyes flicker all over his body, drinking in every single detail about the man in front of you. The way is brown hair was messy from his headbanging from the set, the fact that some of his eyeshadow had smudged and his eyeliner was definitely fucked up- all of your perfect work from earlier, messed up- but honestly you weren’t complaining. You had always preferred Yunho to look more grunge than his normal attire outside of venues.

“You hear me puppy? Mine.” Yunho growls into your ear and you let out a moan, your body jolting at his words as you are brought down to reality. Yunho holds your head at an arm's length, and he looks you up and down. He chuckles a little when he realizes he only undressed your bottom half. “Let me get you all fixed up.” He says, and you give him a questioning look as he releases your hair and takes one long stride towards you.

“Fixed up? Are you not-”

“Who is talking to you? Because I don't remember addressing you.” The words that come out of Yunho's mouth are harsh in nature, but you knew he didn’t mean it. He would spend the rest of his life listening to you talk. It was just Yunho's funny duality.

You blink in response to his words, dumbfounded. He’d only ever spoken like that to you once and you honestly weren't even sure if you liked it then, but for some reason at his condescending words, it churned your stomach and you could feel yourself getting wetter the longer you let the words sink in.

“Good pup.” Yunho praises, his hands come down on your shoulders and you watch his every move. You watch as his long, spindly fingers ghost your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they slip under the straps of your tank top. The veins in his hands, his arms, and all the way up to his neck, taunt you- they mock you even. Yunho wasn't even flustered for a moment, his heart wasn't pounding in his chest so hard it felt like it was going to explode.

Your breathing becomes shallow, as you feel and watch Yunho slip the straps of your tank top off of you. A sudden urge to cover yourself up crashes over you, but Yunho knew better. He swatted your hands away again, pulling your tank top down past your breasts.

“God,” Yunho groans, pushing your tank top around your waist, where it makes its home now. Yunho’s hands cup your plump flesh, and you can feel a shudder ripple through you as his thumbs pass over your nipples, making you moan. “My puppy, ever the eager one.” He giggles, making the corner of your lips twitch into a smile- but that's easily ripped out of you when his mouth makes contact with your breast, eliciting a small, quiet moan from your lips.

Your hands immediately come to the back of Yunho’s head, your fingers grasping onto his hair as his tongue flicks over your sensitive bud, making you jerk in response.

“Yun… p-lease…” The begging starts to slip out in small pleas at first, the whining and the whimpering- it wouldn't be long until the tears and the incoherent mumbling came along too. Yunho looks up at you, you were closer to tears than usual.

“Not yet, princess. You're not ready.” Yunho mumbles against your flesh, before moving his mouth to give your other breast the same attention. While he does that, he takes advantage of your pathetic state, and his hand slips between your legs. You gasp in response as you feel his fingers slide through your folds, two fingers slide into you, and you practically collapse right on top of him. “mmm, maybe you are.” He chuckles darkly, before pulling away from you completely. You blink back the tears forming and stare at him, in shock.

“Yun-”

“Who is talking to you?” Yunho hisses, grabbing your hips and turning you around. You gasp, bewildered once again by his behavior. It was hot- but he seemed… genuinely upset… jealous even. You try to turn around again, but Yunho forces you back, then throws you down on the couch. You gasp again, turning around to look at him. You weren't scared of him, he would never ever hurt you- it took him years of convincing to even hit you.

“Yu-” You try again but your attempt is in vain, because before you can even open your eyes after blinking his lips are on yours again, in a hungry kiss. You can hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, then being thrown to the floor, the all familiar clunking is your signal that you're about to become nothing but a sex doll for Yunho… not that you could complain.

Yunho pulls away, pulling his jacket and shirt off, in two swift motions, before kissing your forehead.

“bend over.” Yunho instructs, and at first, your instinct is to say no, but Yunho is quicker than ever. You feel a sharp sting as Yunho’s hand comes down on your thigh, you inhale sharply before rolling your eyes and obeying his command. You wince at the lingering feeling, but you don't budge even still. Yunho growls, and pushes you down onto the couch.

You fall onto it, but Yunho isn't satisfied with your positioning so he leans over you. He grabs your wrists, and puts them on the back of the couch. He drags his hands from your wrists up your arms, making you shiver and shake under his touch, while he leaves a trail of kisses along your bare shoulders. You can feel your mouth watering, as your body begs him to continue to touch you, to fuck you into the couch, into the wall, wherever Yunho wanted.

Yunho’s hands drag along your waist, until his large hands cup your ass cheeks. He groans quietly, cursing under his breath as he appreciates the plush flesh. He squeezes your cheeks hard, and you let out a small whimper in response. You feel another sharp sting on your asscheek as his hand comes down. You hiss at the feeling, jolting away from him. Yunho grabs your hips and pushes you forward, making you stumble on the cushions of the couch, your knees touching the soft fabric. Yunho leans back, admiring the sight before kneeling down.

You look back, your breathing starting to get heavier and shakier. Your eyebrows furrow a little, watching him dip his head between your legs again. The feeling of his mouth on you again unexpectedly rips a loud moan out of your mouth. The feeling of him sucking on your understimulated bud, paired with the way his tongue lapped every inch of you up made you realize your orgasm was not too far off.

“Shi-” You moan out, but Yunho slaps your ass again, making you hiss in pain again, jolting away from him. Yunho grumbles, pulling you back to him as he continues to devour you. His fingers slide back inside you, curling up and hitting all the right places as another moan is choked out of you.

Your orgasm approaches fast, and hard and before you know it, you've basically drenched Yunho’s fingers and face, your moans spilling out of your mouth at different frequencies. You feel Yunho pull his fingers out, and you're about to protest, to tell him to wait to ride the rest of your orgasm out but he slams himself into you. Your body spasms around him, and you gasp loudly, your knees buckling under his sudden weight.

“Fuck, you're so tight. You feel so good, baby.” Yunho leans forward, his mouth right by your ear as he whispers praise. You moan at his words, and the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you out was just heavenly. Your breakup long forgotten about as Yunho begins to kiss along your back, leaving a lingering feeling behind as he pulls back, just a little. You moan at the feeling, and at the loss, before he thrusts his hips into you again. You curse under your breath.

His hands reach around you, cupping your breasts in his hands, before he starts to slowly pick up speed in his thrusts. Your body is still a little weak and sensitive from your orgasm a moment ago, and Yunho knows it. He knew your body better than anyone- even Mingi. He’d been with you long enough to know the signs- you were on the brink of another orgasm.

“oh? so eager to cum already?” Yunho whispers into your ear, making you shudder again. Yunho slips his hand down your body, between your legs. Your knees start to buckle again, but he catches you. “not so fast~” He chuckles dryly, watching you melt under him.

“What the fuck do you think you're fucking doing?!”

You and Yunho both instantly stop. Your eyes are wider than the moon, and you could swear you could feel Yunho’s heart just genuinely stop.

“Yunho. Y/n. What the fuck?!” He says again, this time, with a lot of anger behind his voice. You couldn't move, you were literally glued to this couch. Mingi just walked in on Yunho fucking you senseless- there was no way you were getting out of this one.

“Mingi, let me explain!” Yunho starts, his hands leave your body, and he pulls out of you, making you whine. He gently sits you down on the couch properly as he shoves his still hard cock into his pants and zips it up. Yunho even goes as far as handing you a blanket, but you didn't take it.

“No, let her explain.” Mingi points at you, and you look up at the two of them. Mingi’s eyes come across your chest, sneaking another quick peek at the marks left on you.

“Mingi, it’s not what you think…” You try to protest, but both Yunho and Mingi’s eyebrows raise, and Yunho shoots you a glare.

“What do you mean y/n?” Yunho asks, and now suddenly you're being grilled by both of them. You wondered what you did wrong in this life for this to happen to you.

“Yunho, you know what i mean, please…” You beg, and your voice cracks as you can feel your emotions start to rise. Your body was still hot with arousal, and your chest felt tight at the thought of them both leaving you.

“Mingi, I can't lie anymore.” Yunho says, and your eyes widen, you start to shake your head, and you reach out to grab his arm. He lets you take it but he doesn't look at your pathetic state. “Y/n and I have been sleeping together since high school, behind your back, behind all our partners backs.” Yunho admits to Mingi, who to Yunho’s surprise doesn't even blink.

“You think I don't know?” Mingi tuts, smacking his lips together while he looks between the two of you. “I've known you had a thing for her since we met, and well… you're both kind of really fucking awful liars, and you're terrible at sneaking around. By the way, since we live together full time, you should know by now y/n isn't very quiet.” Mingi explains, his words hitting your ears and making you blush. You weren't a good liar, but Yunho when he wasn't trying was a terrible liar. He also just generally hated lying to you and to Mingi.

“oh…” Yunho mumbles, his eyes falling to the floor. Mingi looks over at you, and smirks. He reaches out to your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair and you look up at him. Yunho notices Mingi move, and he looks up to watch what he was doing- his jaw about fell off his face when he realized what was happening right in front of him.

“What you don't know, that I know you don't know, is that we share the same toy. The same dumb, slutty little toy- but not just each other… all those stupid guys she keeps bringing into her life who are nothing but useless, anyways.” Mingi’s voice is low, almost like a growl. Yunho and your eyes are glued on Mingi’s hands, unbuckling his belt, and pulling down his pants, just slightly. His cock springs free from his boxers right in front of your face.

“So what do you say? Should we teach her a lesson, Yunho?” Mingi asks, lightly tapping the head of his dick right on your plump lips. The corners of your mouth twitch, and the heat in your belly becomes so fucking unbearable you can't stop the moan from escaping. Mingi uses this as his opening to shove his dick in your mouth, and down your throat, forcing you to choke on his thick length.

Mingi lets out a low moan, before pulling you away from him by your hair. You gasp for air, already feeling the tears start to spill over. Mingi grins, and places his hand on your cheek. You brace yourself, closing your eye on that side as Mingi’s hand comes into contact with your flesh, hard and fast, making your head spin.

“Mingi- what are you doing?!” Yunho sounds panicked after seeing this, he himself had never hit your face- he refused to. He didn't want to hurt you or make you distrust him.

“She likes it. Trust me. You're not the only one who’s fucked her for 8 years.” Mingi grumbles. He pulls away from you, and pulls you to your feet by your hair. You obey, standing up and looking between the two men- Yunho is looking at you with concern, wondering if Mingi was taking it too far but you give him a reassuring smile and just like that, he snaps back.

You feel Yunho’s hands on your back, but you can’t see him, as he’s behind you and the grip Mingi has on your is deadly- denying you from looking at Yunho.

“Think I didn't know about this little thing between you two? Yunho’s like a little lost puppy without you, following you around, wanting to always be near you, always touching you. You think I didn't notice your glances, your sneaking away with one another. The fucking hickey’s that litter your body, that I know I don't leave.” Mingi pulls you close to him, pulling you out of Yunho’s grip. Yunho looks up, and shoots a glare at Mingi, before wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Do you think I’m stupid y/n?” Mingi growls, and your eyes widen, shaking your head. You gasp, and moan as you feel Yunho enter you again. Mingi’s other hand cups your breast, his thumb and index pinching your nipple hard making you moan, and your eyes roll back as your body gives into Yunho.

The sensation of Yunho filling you up, while Mingi grills you, kneading the plush skin of your breast, was driving you crazy. Yunho’s hand coasts up from the small of your back, pushing Mingi away with his other hand as he forces you to bed back over the couch. Your body gives in, and you faceplant right into the couch. Yunho adjusts both of your bodies so now he’s on the couch behind you, as he starts to pound into you.

Mingi watches as your eyes shut, your brows furrow and your lips part as Yunho destroys you. His body twitches at the sounds of your moans, needing to touch you somehow. It was driving him insane. For a moment, he just watches as Yunho ravages you, his cock aching to feel any part of you.

“M…Mingi.” You choke out, and Mingi’s entire body goes rigid… You wanted him too? Not just Yunho? Yunho pulls you back onto him, lifting you up a little. You move your arms out, resting your palms on the cushion of the couch to hold yourself up, while Yunho’s arms encapsulate your body.

You and Yunho watch Mingi process all of this, the smile on your faces more than evident that you were literally inviting him to join. Yunho pulls an arm from around you, and reaches out to grab Mingi’s wrist pulling him closer to the two of you. He lets go of Mingi, and wraps his arm around you again.

“This is what you wanted, right, Mingi? To fuck her? To teach her a lesson? So why are you just standing there and watching? Are you that pathetic?” Yunho’s words strike a chord with Mingi, and he groans, letting his head fall back for just a second, before lifting his head up to look down at you.

Neither you or Yunho can say anything else, before Mingi’s dick is down your throat again. You moan at the feeling of being filled from both ends, and the feeling of being used by both of them is so intense, your second orgasm comes crashing down. You pull away from Mingi to catch your breath, but Yunho’s hand on the back of your head keeps you in place, while Yunho fucks into you, at a relentless pace. Mingi reaches forward, grabbing your head and pulling you back towards him, smashing your nose against his pelvis.

You try to breathe, you try to cry out, do anything, but all you can do is choke, and sputter and just cry. You felt so small between them, their hands just swallowing every part of you up as they use you for their own pleasure.

Yunho’s arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. It felt like they were playing tug of war with you, being tugged back and forth between them. Yunho’s fingers graze your folds, feeling himself push in and out of you for a few second before finding your clit and rubbing small circles in it, making you moan against Mingi’s dick.

“Oh, Fuck.” Mingi curses, pulling out of you quickly. He bends down, and kisses you, harshly. You don't have time to even catch your breath as Mingi pushes you further onto Yunho’s dick, and Yunho bottoming out inside of you. All three of you moan simultaneously, and there's a familiar feeling inside of you, and Yunho’s grip around you tightens so hard it's painful. The warm liquid spilling inside of you, and the twitching, and pulsating makes your body clench around him naturally.

Yunho holds you in his embrace for a moment, while your lips are still locked with Mingi’s. Yunho can't help but watch, feeling something different growing in the pit of his stomach. Mingi cups your face and his thumbs pass under your eyes wiping your makeup and tear stained cheeks off.

Yunho watches in awe, before his amazement is replaced with concern as he watches Mingi strike your cheek again. This time, Yunho could feel how much you liked it. You clenched around him hard, and let out a little whimper.

“Want me to cum inside you?” Mingi asks, pulling away from you to allow you to catch your breath. You pant heavily, and you nod your head, your eyes trained on Mingi as he presses his forehead against yours. Yunho, reluctantly, pulls his arms from around you, and watches as you slide off of him, whining at the loss- even he was a little upset at the loss.

Yunho gets up, and Mingi takes his place immediately. Mingi slaps your ass, harder than Yunho had done previously, making you whimper in response. Although Mingi and Yunho were similar in length, Mingi was just a tad girthier than Yunho so watching your face contort almost in pain as Mingi pushes himself inside of you made Yunho’s heart flutter.

“A-are you okay?” Yunho grabs your face, worried that Mingi was doing too much to you. He would hate it if you got hurt by either of them. You look at Yunho, and he can't help the twitch in his cock again as he takes in your fucked out expression.

“Y-yun…” you choke out another moan, as Mingi bottoms out inside of you. Your body still raw from Yunho’s usage of it, it makes you jolt a bit, Mingi pulls you back again, forcing you to take all of him. Your head falls forward, and you reach for Yunho, who gladly takes your hand, holding onto it tightly.

“Good to know you're still so tight after Yunho uses you.” Mingi leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he growls in your ear. You whine in response, before Mingi’s hand comes to the back of your head, forcing your head into the seat of the cushion, and Yunho’s eyes widen as Mingi literally fucks you into the couch.

“Are you just gonna watch?” Mingi tuts at Yunho, and Yunho’s eyes snap to Mingi- a little conflicted. Of course he wanted to join in again, but your safety was his biggest concern. It had always been.

“I-”

“She likes it, stop worrying so much. She isn't as fragile as you think.” Mingi grumbles, before his hand comes down hard on your ass again. You let out a muffled cry, and Yunho watches as Mingi’s hand moves from the back of your head, to the back of your neck, gripping you tightly and pulling you up. “Don't you?” You pant heavily, but nod regardless. Your body trembles under Mingi’s force.

Mingi’s other hand comes around, hooking under your arm as he grabs your throat, and squeezes the sides. His hand moves from the back of your neck, down to your ass as he starts to speed up his thrusts again.

Yunho was so conflicted, but he got an idea- he stands up, taking Mingi’s former place. Mingi nudges your chin, making you look up at Yunho who towers over you. He gently pats your head, before pressing the head of his cock against your lips. You whine a little, your throat feeling raw from how rough Mingi was, but you oblige anyways, knowing Yunho wouldn't be so rough now that he has cum.

Yunho’s strokes are slow and gentle, but his hips buck as you hollow your cheeks out, flattening your tongue against his shaft. He lets out a little whimper, and as Mingi thrusts in, Yunho pulls out, making your body feel electric. Their thrusts are opposite of one another and it drives you literally insane. Mingi’s thrusts are harsh, and forceful, but Yunho’s are gentle and kind.

Mingi’s hand was still on your throat, squeezing perfectly, making you feel just perfect. Yunho get another idea, and he pries Mingi’s hand from your throat, replacing it with his own.

“Yunho? What the hell.” Mingi frowns, furrowing his brows as he halts his movements. You whine out and push against him, he growls and slaps your ass again, making you jolt forward and choke on Yunho’s cock. Yunho groans, and holds the back of your neck, pushing his cock so far down your throat, your nose touches his pelvis and he can literally feel his dick in your throat.

“Ohhh, fuck…” Yunho moans, looking down at your pathetic, fucked out state. The tears that stream down your face, and the spit bubbling at the corner of your mouth, as you choke on him.

“Look at her,” Mingi croons, smiling devilishly at you. “So pretty with our dicks inside you, huh?” Mingi whispers, making your body erupt in goosebumps. You can hear Mingi chuckle behind you as he picks his pace up once more, pounding into at a punishing force and speed, and Yunho pulls out of your mouth. You gasp for air, before a choked moan leaves your lips, your eyes closing tightly and your hands reaching for Yunho.

“You're doing so good, princess.” Yunho mumbles, moving his hands from your neck to your face. One hand holds your chin to face him, the other is wiping the tears from your cheeks, and the drool from your lips. You were a fucking mess, makeup smudged everywhere, your hair tangled, your lips swollen and abused, along with the drool coming out of the corners of your mouth as you get fucked stupid.

“So fucking good.” Mingi moans, grabbing your hips and forcing you back against him again. You cry out, and Yunho’s brows furrow with concern- never having heard you make that noise before.

“Mingi, stop.” Yunho warns, and Mingi shakes his head.

“Shut up.” Mingi strains, slamming into you once more, his painted nails digging into your hips. You reach for Yunho again, just needing something, anything to stabilize you, before you collapse as you can feel Mingi’s cum spilling inside of you. “Oh, shit…” Mingi moans, throwing his head back and letting out a loud, deep breath. Yunho holds your hand tightly, he can feel you shaking, and he wants to sweep you into his arms and protect you from everything but he wasn't quite sure you wanted to be touched after all of this.

You're left completely speechless, panting heavily with your head resting in Yunho’s hand. Hot tears still spilling out of your eyes only concern the eldest boy more and more.

“Baby, what's wrong…? Did we hurt you?” Yunho asks, pulling his hand out of yours to push your hair out of your face. Mingi watches Yunho, his heart aching a little at the sight of his best friends. Although Mingi loved you, just as much as Yunho did, he had always wondered if the bonds between the three of you were different.

“N-no, she’s okay… she usually takes a while to recuperate after we have sex.” Mingi admits, Yunho’s eyes flickering up to Mingi, giving him a dirty look, before looking back down at you. You nod at Mingi’s words, letting Yunho know the truth.

Yunho was rough with you, but not like Mingi was.

Yunho huffs in response to your nodding, before wiping your tears away from your cheeks. He places a kiss on the tip of your nose before he pulls his boxers, and pants back up, and walks over to the vanity where your makeup was. He swipes a makeup wipe off the desk, and comes back over to you, sitting in front of you.

“A-are you always this way…?” Mingi asks, a little hesitant. He didn't know what he should or shouldn't say, if anything at all. Mingi just looks down, and pulls out of you, making you gasp and whine, while Yunho shoots him another dirty look.

“She deserves to be treated well.” is all Yunho says, as he begins to wipe your makeup off with soft, and tender hands. Yunho pulls away for a second, grabbing your underwear and shorts, putting them in his lap, before guiding you to sit next to him.

“I’m so glad today was the last show.” You mutter, and Yunho chuckles, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him again. He instructs you to look up with just your eyes, and you do. He takes the makeup wipe, and begins to very carefully clean your under eyes of makeup and tears.

Mingi watching the two of you made his heart shatter. No wonder you two were so smitten with one another. He clears his throat, catching both of your attention. He quickly gathers himself, pulling his pants back on and sitting next to you.

“We should talk about this.” Mingi offers, and Yunho and you exchange a look, before looking at Mingi again. “What?”

“Talk about what?” Yunho asks, seemingly clueless to what Mingi was trying to get at.

“What just happened…?” Mingi raises an eyebrow, and you giggle. You grab the collar of his shirt, and pull him down to you, planting a tender kiss on his lips. Mingi melts into you, both of your eyes closing at the contact, and Yunho chuckles. You pull away, and look at Yunho, then back at Mingi.

“We kind of already talked about it before…” You start, watching as Yunho sets your clothes in your lap. You pull your shirt back on properly, before slipping your panties and shorts back on.

“Talked about what? I’m really confused here…?” Mingi scratches the back of his head, and furrows his brows. Yunho shakes his head, swatting Mingi’s hand away from his head.

“Stop worrying. It’s nothing bad. Y/n and I agreed, back when we first started all this, that if you ever found out, and joined us- that it solidifies her and I’s relationship.” Yunho explains, but Mingi looks even more confused than ever.

“Wait so you're dating now? What the hell am I doing here?” Mingi scoffs, finding your agreement to be bullshit. Yunho knew Mingi liked you, just as Mingi knew Yunho liked you, and somehow Mingi is being left out? How dare his best friends.

“Mingi!” Your voice brings Mingi back to earth, and he looks at you. You looked so cute, sitting next to Yunho as he leans close to you, holding himself up with his arm behind you, just to be close to you. God… you both looked so good to Mingi.

“Can you let us explain?” You ask, gently, knowing Mingi was one to overthink and jump to conclusions. He sighs and nods, mentally shaking off the daze he was just in.

“I guess, yeah, us two are dating now… but if you want, only if you want… we want you to join us.” Yunho says, almost awkwardly- like he doesn't want to say the words. He wants you all to himself all the time, he doesn't want to share. but if he was going to share with anyone, he was glad it was Mingi.

“what…?” Mingi narrows his eyes at Yunho, then at you, before turning back to Yunho.

“be our boyfriend, or my boyfriend.” You blurt out, and Mingi’s eyes widen the size of large saucers and his lips part in shock.

“What?” He repeats himself, and Yunho scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You can either be both of our boyfriends, or you can also be her boyfriend. I don't mind either way.” Yunho explains, but Mingi just looks as dumbfounded as ever.

“Like… polyamory…?” Mingi asks for clarification and the two of you nod. You didn't know why the boys were so scared of the outcome- you knew they'd love doing what they just did to you, but they both just refused- scared to lose their friendship with one another.

“I… I guess I can try being her boyfriend too…” Mingi finally answers after a long pause between the three of them. You smile and nod, leaning forward and kissing the corner of Mingi’s mouth.

“Great! Well, I’m starving and my throat hurts, so I’m gonna go to the bus.” You get up from between them, grabbing your phone that was discarded at some point, and swiftly leaving the room, leaving behind Yunho and Mingi.

Mingi glances at Yunho, seeing the dreamy expression on his face, and the small smile playing on his lips.

“How long have you waited to officially be her boyfriend?” Mingi asks, his voice barely above a whisper, and Yunho turns his head to look at him, the smile just growing and growing.

“19 Years.”

“Since we were 6?!” Mingi exclaims, and Yunho nods, patting Mingi’s knee before getting up and pulling his shirt and jacket back on. Yunho looks at Mingi and shrugs his shoulders, before starting to follow your footstep.

“Since we were 6, Mingi.” Yunho smirks, before turning on his heel and chasing after you with a new spring in his step.

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