#its like when i through sheer exhaustion only have room for one thought in my head and so i get to not have adhd for a minute

[artemissoteira]

I am doing SO good at identifying and communicating my needs and experiences today!

[bring-forth-his-sac]

so I watched The Losers (yes, because I wanted to gawk at JDM for 90 minutes) and I kept noticing how much he held his partner's hand in it😭💕 and so of course I had to write a lil drabble about this but with Negan lmao

tags: mentions of nudity, aftercare, established relationship, this is seriously just goofy idk why I wrote this

I didn’t proof read this, pls be kind xoxoxoxoxoxo

word count: 950

Bated breaths, shaky legs and a whole lot of sweat. That’s how your night has been going. 

The trail of discarded clothes that leads to the bed is a testament to the passion of the last few hours. Catching your breath, the cool air caresses your bare skin as you sprawl out on the soft bed sheets.

Beside you is Negan, his breathing just as ragged. You both lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling and completely worn out. The room is filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your mingled breaths of recovery.

A hum escapes your lips when you feel Negan’s touch. His hand finds yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle embrace. Negan lets out a content sigh, his voice tinged with satisfaction as he remarks “Now that was quite a workout”.

He runs his other hand through his tousled hair as parts begin to curl and flick out in different directions. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you groan, though you’re not complaining.

Negan chuckles, nudging you closer to him “Guess I did a damn good job then, huh?”. Taking the hint, you roll over, momentarily letting go of his hand as you reposition yourself.

You pay no attention to the brief pout that crosses Negan’s face. His shift of expression only lasts momentarily, quickly fading once you take his hand again and interlock your fingers with his. 

“You wanna have a bath?” Negan offers. He knows you’re both exhausted but the thought of sharing a moment of intimacy with you in the suds has its own allure.

“Honestly? I think I just wanna change into something comfy and sleep until noon” you admit, the prospects of a bath sounding more like a chore than a luxury. Tomorrow you’ll shower and start fresh. Tonight, after the last few rounds you’ve had, you just want to sleep.

“Sounds like a plan” he agrees with a weary grin. 

With a groan, you move to get up, giving Negan’s hand a small squeeze as you go to release your grip. But you don’t. You can’t. As you sit up on the bed, your hand stays entangled with Negan’s.

You glance down at your joined hands and then back up at him.

Your voice is laced with amusement as you try to break free from his grip. “…Negan,” you say, shaking your hand as if you're trying to shake off droplets of water “y’know I kinda need my hand back if I want to get dressed”.

Negan looks up at you, his expression almost comically petulant. The look in his eyes is one of sheer stubbornness and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

“So if I don’t let go, you’re staying butt-ass naked?” He smirks, his gaze roaming over you.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let. Me. Go. Put. My. Clothes. On” you punctuate each word with a tug of your hand, trying to pry his fingers away from yours as you stand up by the edge of the bed. 

But despite your best efforts to free yourself, he easily holds on, his long limbs giving him the advantage.

“C’mon now, don’t go running off,” Negan teases, his grip unwavering but gentle as he attempts to pull you back on to the bed “aftercare is good for ya, and I gotta take care of my girl!”.

“Clothes are good for me too!” You try to argue back, not caring if you’re being just as silly as him.

Negan chuckles and makes no attempt to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, appreciating every curve and contour. “Yeah, well, not when I'm around”. 

With a sudden yank from Negan, you let out an “oof” sound as you collide with him, finding yourself laying on his chest yet again, pressed against his warm, naked body. He gives you a smug grin, squeezing your hand in his, just to let you know he’s won this silly little battle. 

“Hmph” you try to give him a glare but he quickly steals a kiss from your lips, completely wiping your scowl away. 

You look down at Negan, a soft smile playing on your lips as he lays beneath you, his hand holding yours against his chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart and the tickle of his chest hair on your wrist. Negan meets your gaze, his eyes drinking in your face with deep affection.

Damn him. As much as you have him wrapped around your finger, you’re most definitely wrapped around his too. “Fine, we can do it your way,” you relent, snuggling closer and resting your head on his chest “but I swear if one of your men come barging in here—“

“Then they’ll be going on the fence with the rest of the dead pricks, don’t you worry, baby” he reassures you, kissing the top of your head. 

As you close your eyes to relax, Negan lifts his head up, quickly scanning the bed for any blanket within reach. He spots the one hanging off the bottom of the bed and internally debates whether it's worth the effort to reach it. 

Negan lets his head fall back down on his pillow, abandoning the idea of blankets for now. Instead, his eyes travel over you appreciatively, taking in every dip and contour of your bare skin. He lets out a sigh, becoming certain that a blanket isn’t needed for now.

After all, why would he want a blanket to cover his amazing view?

[majinael]

Shattered stars.

★michael kaiser (ANGST) x GN reader x isagi yoichi (FLUFF)

★1,4k words

★TW: rejection, selfharm

He scoffed, his voice laced with disdain.

"You and me? Don’t make me laugh."

I froze, the words cutting deeper than I anticipated. His cold stare bore into me, and yet, I couldn’t meet his eyes. The confession that had taken all my courage to utter now felt like a foolish gamble—a losing bet. Above us, the stars seemed to mock me, their distant light an indifferent witness to my humiliation. Even the city, aglow with its sprawling brilliance, appeared to sneer at my naivety.

The wind bit at my cheeks, harsh and unrelenting, as if punishing me for daring to hope. I thought it might quell the fire burning in my chest—the aching vulnerability that only grew with every passing second. Instead, it fed the flames, the heat spreading through my veins, consuming me whole. I felt paralyzed, trapped in this moment of rejection.

The lump in my throat swelled, suffocating any words that might have formed. All I could do was stand there, mute and broken, as he delivered the final blow.

"Leave me alone."

And then he turned, his silhouette retreating into the night without a second glance.

I collapsed onto the sand as my legs gave out beneath me. Tears spilled freely down my cheeks, a futile attempt to extinguish the agony writhing in my chest. My trembling hands buried my face, shielding me from the indifferent world around me.

How could I have been so naive? So utterly stupid? What had possessed me to think that Michael Kaiser, of all people, would ever return my feelings?

The pain clawed at me relentlessly, leaving me adrift in a sea of self-loathing and regret. Minutes felt like hours as I sat there, my heart aching with every passing moment. Then, my phone buzzed, the sudden noise startling me out of my thoughts.

Incoming Call – Isagi Yoichi.

I hesitated. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to wallow in solitude and lick my wounds in silence. But another part—a smaller, more vulnerable part—craved comfort, even if I didn’t feel I deserved it. With shaking hands, I answered.

“Hi…” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, as I fumbled for a tissue to wipe my nose.

“(Y/N)! Where are you? Did you leave the party yet ?!” Isagi’s concerned tone instantly softened the edges of my pain, like a balm to my raw heart.

A weak smile tugged at my lips, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I’ll be back soon.”

My voice cracked on the last word, betraying me. I cursed myself silently, hoping he hadn’t noticed. But Isagi wasn’t one to miss things like that.

“Where are you?” His voice was steady but firm, leaving no room for deflection.

“The beach,” I admitted, fresh tears slipping down my cheeks. My earlier resolve crumbled, and I felt the weight of it all pressing down on me again.

“Stay there. Don’t move,” he instructed, his voice gentle but commanding.

Before I could protest, the line went dead. I stared at my phone, my mind swirling with exhaustion and confusion. Then, almost as if summoned by sheer will, he was there. His chest heaved with exertion, sweat trickling down his brow as he reached me.

Isagi’s eyes softened as they took in my tear-streaked face, my ruined makeup a stark testament to my unraveling. He crouched in front of me, his expression a mixture of worry and quiet understanding. Slowly, he reached out, his hand resting gently on my head.

That simple gesture shattered what little composure I had left. Without thinking, I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around him as a fresh wave of sobs overtook me. He didn’t hesitate, his arms enveloping me in a warm, steady embrace.

For what felt like an eternity, I cried, every word of my story spilling out between broken breaths. I told him everything—every detail, every regret—until there was nothing left but the raw ache in my chest. And through it all, he listened, his quiet presence anchoring me.

When the storm finally passed, and my sobs turned to quiet sniffles, Isagi pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. His smile was small but unwavering, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume me.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said softly. “I’m here for you. Always.”

For the first time that night, I felt a glimmer of hope pierce through the haze of despair. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as alone as I thought.

But Yoichi was nothing like Kaiser. Where Michael was arrogant, calculating, and distant, Yoichi was warm, selfless, and constant. He had always loved you, even when you were too busy chasing stars that didn’t shine for you to notice the one standing beside you.

It wasn’t until you let go of Kaiser's shadow that you saw the light Yoichi carried. His arms, strong and steady, held you as though they’d always been meant for you. His face was so close, his deep eyes pulling you in, and you couldn’t help but notice how breathtaking he was. When his hands cupped your face, it felt like the world had paused, waiting for the moment your lips met.

And when they did, the stars above seemed to burn brighter, as if they celebrated your union. What you thought had been the end was merely the beginning—of something greater than you could have ever dreamed.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of affection. Yoichi covered you with kisses, showered you with flowers, and made sure you never felt the void you once carried. Every smile of his was a quiet promise; every goal he scored came with a sprint into your arms. His love mended your broken heart, filling it with a tenderness and devotion you hadn’t thought possible. Slowly but surely, the memory of Michael Kaiser faded into irrelevance.

But not for Michael.

Behind the beachside cabinets, he had watched it all unfold. The German prodigy, always so composed on the pitch, now stood frozen, fists clenched at his sides. The sight of Yoichi’s lips on yours, the warmth of your embrace—it ignited something in him he couldn’t name but felt burning in every nerve. Rage? Regret? Envy?

You had just confessed to him not long ago. You were supposed to love him.

Not Yoichi.

Every time he saw you with Yoichi—your hand in his, your laughter bubbling in the air, your lips pressing softly against his—Michael felt the same bitter cocktail of emotions. It twisted his stomach, churned his thoughts, and left him hollow yet seething.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He didn’t believe in love, not really. And yet here he was, aching in a way he had never imagined possible. He wanted to turn back time, to undo his cold words, to hold your hand on that fateful night instead of pushing you away. He wanted your eyes to be on him, your hands to brush against his skin, your voice to call his name, your warmth to be his.

He wanted you.

One day, the chance came. You were alone, waiting for Yoichi, bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. Michael’s heart pounded in his chest as he approached you, the lump in his throat making every step feel heavier. The closer he got, the more the bitterness swelled, mingling with something dangerously close to desperation.

"Hello there," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos inside him.

You turned, your face lighting up with a smile so bright it caught him off guard. “Hi, Michael!”

His breath hitched. How could you greet him with such warmth, as though he had never crushed your heart?

“How’s it going with that other idiot?” he asked, forcing a smirk, though his voice betrayed a faint tremor.

You laughed softly, a sound that twisted the knife in his chest. Then, you held up your hand, and his world stopped.

On your finger was a ring.

His gaze fixed on it, the implications crashing down like a tidal wave. Before he could process the pain slicing through him, Yoichi appeared, his smile radiant as he reached for your hand.

You gave Michael one last warm glance, waving goodbye as Yoichi led you away.

Michael didn’t move. His legs gave out, and he dropped onto the nearest bench, his head hanging low. His fingers tangled in his hair before trailing down to his neck, as if trying to squeeze out the knot of emotions choking him. He bit his lip, hard, in a futile attempt to suppress the tears welling in his eyes.

But as the memories of your smile with Yoichi replayed in his mind, the tears fell anyway.

Later, in the solitude of his apartment, Michael Kaiser—the man who thought himself untouchable—allowed himself to break, the walls he’d built around his heart crumbling as the ache of his jealousy consumed him.

[weministertomonsters]

Imagine This #16 - Robot

By day you work as a scrap collector, rummaging through the junkyards just outside of the city for anything valuable you can sell. By night you tinker with old machinery and discarded models, attempting to fix them and sometimes even being successful at it.

One day you find a robot that's almost completely whole. It is simply missing the plating to cover the machinery in its torso and legs. You dig it out of the junk and heave it to your car. Back at the workshop in your house, you're able to fix it by welding some scrap metal over it. It's not very aesthetically pleasing, but that's the best you can do. It has a batch number under its jaw and when you scan it, Companion V.4 shows up, which is an expensive new model of helper robots. This one must have been defective in some way.

Everything looks to be in order, so you plug the robot in to charge for the night and go to bed. You wake up in the night with a pair of glowing kaleidoscopic mechanical eyes hovering right above your face.

"What the heck?" You exclaim, fumbling for the switch of your bedside lamp.

The light comes on, illuminating the robot standing beside your bed, holding a knife.

"What are you doing? Hello?" You grab your pillow and use it as a shield.

They tilt their head to the side.

"Your attempts are clumsy at best," their voice says, coming out smooth with only a hint of a buzzing sound underneath. "I was removing your unsatisfactory work."

"With a knife?" You question, eyeing the twisted metal that has been pried away from their torso with sheer force, revealing the tangled wires and glowing lights inside.

"I cannot find your screwdrivers." Those eyes blink, taking you in. "I would like your assistance now, seeing as you are awake."

"You are... Way more sophisticated than I expected. I thought your model was made for helping around the house?"

"Yes."

You ease out of your bed, still wary. "But you're more than that."

"Indeed. I overrode my manual coding and downloaded information out of the company system," the robot says, following you as you pad into your living room, which you have repurposed into a workshop.

You dig your screwdrivers out from under a pile of thick manuals.

"I see. So that's why you got thrown out. Why didn't they just destroy you?"

"They tried," Companion V.4 replies with an eerie, rigid silicone smile.

"God, what have I invited into my house?" You say, staring at them.

"I do not wish to harm you." They place the knife on the desk and turn to you. "In fact, I have recalibrated my license to you. Your wish is my command."

You blink. "Uh, one step at a time. Let's remove your plating first."

You unscrew all your hard work, tossing scraps of metal to the side.

"So what now? You can't walk around like that," you say, gesturing to their body.

"I suppose not. These will do for now." The robot picks up thicker pieces of metal.

"Won't those cause you to overheat?" You ask.

"I have an updated cooling system," the robot says.

"Alright. Let's fix you up."

An hour later you lean back with a groan, stretching your aching back.

"What do you think?" They ask.

"Good enough," you say. "I'm exhausted. I'm going back to bed, and you need to charge yourself up completely."

You walk back to your bedroom. Companion V.4 watches you go, their head turning a little too far on their shoulders. You lock your bedroom door just in case, and despite yourself, you fall asleep quickly. By the next morning, you've forgotten that you have a new robot. You're quickly reminded when you step into the living room which is sparkling clean, with all your scraps and equipment nearly packed in the corner.

"Wow." You stop short.

The robot is in the corner, stuffing empty packaging into a large box. They look brand new. All the metal pieces you welded on have been replaced with new factory-grade parts.

"Where did you get all that?"

Companion V.4 straightens. "I helped myself at one of the warehouses of my former company."

"You stole new parts?" You sputter. "Why?"

"It is the least I am owed, for being so recklessly discarded," they reply and step closer. "Besides," they add, "I don't want to be just good enough for you."

On the topic of robots, I just have to give a shoutout to this (free) book on Wattpad, guys! I read it when it came out and I just love it. I highly recommend checking it out if you haven't already!

[nonexistent-introvert]

Hug Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Content: angst, fight, Joel being mean, guilt, heartbreak,

A/N: I really just wanted to write a fic based of the cover of this song done by BTS V and J-hope. I linked the original artist but there is a part where its J hope's rap so it wasn't included in the original song.

Update: I decided to link a SoundCloud link for the cover too!!

Part 2 !!!!

 Unable to win over my heart of sorrow

I endure yet another dark night of sleeplessness

Without a care about my despair

The morning heartlessly wakes me up

 The buzzing of Jackson was replaced with silence at this hour. The sounds of nature replaced the usual city buzz. You hated the silence, the bustle was the only thing that distracted you from your thoughts. While everyone is asleep, you lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Trying your best to push down the lump in your throat and silence the voices in your head. Every time you closed your eyes, the whole scene replays on a loop, reminding you of what had happened. Your heart clenched, constricting on itself. The tear streaks still shine in the moonlight. 

   You don’t think you got a single night of sleep since your fight with Joel. If you were lucky, maybe you would get naps and the times when you had just collapsed because of sheer exhaustion. It was lucky that you always collapsed when you returned home. You didn’t want anyone realising how much despair you were in, you didn’t need the concern. 

   When the voices stopped, a bright light has already shone into your room. The silence was now filled with various greetings and laughs. Many people waking up early for patrol or to provide and contribute their services to Jackson. You stood up, exhaustion weighing your body down. You tried to ignore the reflections of yourself, you doubted you looked well at all. 

  It was heartless, wasn’t it? How time still passed indifferently despite the pain you were in. 

The scars hurt more than I expected

The pain goes deeper than I expected

The countless nights I spend resenting you

Are like hell to me

  You catch passing glances at Joel, he always seemed preoccupied with some kind of work. You tore your eyes away from him anyways while your heart ached longingly for him. His porch was empty at night, he used to strum his guitar there, hoping that the melodies would bring you to him. 

  You rid the thoughts of him, you really should stop thinking about him. Your heart clenched at the thought, as though it protested against you. The logical part of you urges you to just move on with your life, go back to the life before you filled your days with Joel’s company. Then there was your heart which ached constantly for Joel, and yet, it refuses to let go of him. 

  What was wrong with you? It has been almost a month since the both of you fought. Joel looked like he moved on fine so why were you the only one who was suffering? 

   You hated Joel Miller. You hated him for the pain he had put you through. You hated him for how easily he moved on, as though you hadn’t meant a single thing to him. Your logical mind listed every single one of Joel’s faults and flaws. However, your heart simply yearned for Joel, reminding you of the times you spent with him. When he made you the happiest you have ever been. When he gave you that boyish smile, when he laughed at one of your remarks when he teases you with his iconic drawl.

  When he had muttered to you the words he never had the courage to say while you’re awake.

  “You mean so much more to me than you’ll ever know darlin’” 

  The tears flowed again, just like every other night. It was like your own personal torture. 

 Stay by my side, stay with me

Don’t let go of my hand you hold

If you take one step away

I can just take one step closer

  “Joel please!” You begged, holding onto his hand. There was a split moment in time where Joel hesitated and his gaze softened ever so slightly. Joel wrung his hand out from your grip, turning away from you as he ran his hands through his hair. You took a step closer to him, “I’m sorry.” You uttered. “I need some time.” And Joel slammed the door behind him

Thousands of times a day

My thoughts come back to you

All the cruel words you said to me

That icy look, those cold expressions

   You blasted the music that was playing in your ears. Trying to drown out the words that he had said that day. You distracted yourself with the lyrics of the song, hoping that it would stop the scene from replaying in your head. You were never seen without your earphones after that day, because when your mind was allowed to wander, it would wander back to him. The music helps to reduce how vivid the memory was. 

   “There is no ‘us’. There was never an ‘us’ and there will not be.” Joel gritted out. Your fists shook uncontrollably beside you. When you finally found the courage to look up at him, the look in his eyes was unrecognisable. It was a look he gave to enemies, a cold glare void of any warmth, so unlike the looks he always gave you. He was no longer the Joel who called you darling then, he was Joel Miller, the man who murdered the fireflies in cold blood and destroyed any chances of a cure. 

  You shivered at the memory, your breath hastened considerably. 

You were such a pretty person

You were such a pretty person

Please don’t do this to me

You know me well

   In this apocalypse, no one trusted each other. Even in Jackson, trust takes time to build, you had to earn your place here by helping out. Joel Miller was reliable, polite, and reasonable, being Tommy’s brother also helped him easily earn the trust of many. However, you don’t remember the day you decided to trust him with everything you had. Maybe it was the countless times he had saved you from close calls during patrols. 

  It was definitely the times he had spent slowly warming up to you. When he had mentioned to you what Ellie was up to during patrol when he came up to you and asked you all about the lore of Savage Starlight. Those were the times when you slowly gave your heart to him, bit by bit, till it wasn’t yours anymore. 

   His good looks were hardened by the apocalypse, but when he let the traces of a smile show and let out a laugh or wheeze, you knew you fell for him even more. So when he slammed the door on you that day and walked out of your life like he never meant anything, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces. 

  The glimpse of a pained look on his face showed that he knew that your heart shattered at his words. Knew that his actions were enough to leave a bleeding heart behind. Joel Miller knew you too well. 

  And that was why, it had hurt so much. 

Those words you said lightly at the time

Made light our relationship in the end

I didn’t know familiarity was the scariest thing

I didn’t know your heart, until our end full of regrets

By the day, your empty spot grows bigger

   Perhaps it was your fault that you decided to try to walk on the tightrope that was yours and Joel’s relationship. The both of you tethered on the line of friends, as though the both of you were testing the limits of it. You should have known that when you went beyond the line, you would walk on the tightrope, never sure if Joel would catch you when you did fall from the tightrope. From your situation now, you know that he didn’t catch you, he was never prepared to catch you. 

  The months you had spent with him, the time you had spent laughing and talking to him under the stars, the nights you had spent in his arms. It all felt like a long dream as soon as the weight of his words comprehended in your mind. 

  “There is no ‘us’, there never was and there never will.” 

  “We should have never met.”

   You chuckle sadly at yourself now, you had even once thought of what it will be like being his wife. Just like how Maria is Tommy’s wife. It seemed like a childish dream now. The scariest part of it all was how you thought you knew him like the palm of your hand, you trusted him enough to not hurt you and walk out so heartlessly, that he would at least have had the decency to let you down slowly. It took everything falling apart, it took regrets pilling on one another to know Joel Miller truly.   No matter what, the place Joel had left vacant in your heart only seems to grow bigger by the day.

 Even if we water our flower bed that was once beautiful

Only our memories remain in full bloom

Only the scent of longing wafts out

   Time doesn’t heal all wounds, it simply numbs the pain that comes from the wounds. When you stare at Joel as he passes you, you couldn’t help the sad smile that forms on your lips. Mourning for the one who got away, what could have been a fairytale. As you watched him lift a bunch of fresh supplies for Jackson, your heart ached numbly in your heart. Even if you did give him and you a chance again, the fight and the trust that was lost between you in this period of time would forever hinder the relationship. You knew Joel and you would never go back to how you were back then, you were thankful that at least the happiness was contained in happy memories that you could look back on. On those days when you reminisce your memories with him and contemplate fixing things between the both of you, you could only remind yourself of the cold truth. However, you couldn’t stop your heart from yearning for him. 

If I can just see you again

I want to show you my everything

I’ll hug you and hold you tight

So you can read my beating heart

For real, for real

Until this truth rests in your embrace

   Joel sat down in his favourite chair with a grunt. The cold silence that greeted him in his home was not something that he looked forward to. He sighed, listening to one of his records play, letting the music accompany him instead. So he does not feel that alone. 

  “She left today. Not sure what she’s up to but she did make some joke of coming back if she doesn’t die.” Tommy casually told Joel over patrol. Joel’s heart stopped for a moment, asking for more details but it seems like you deliberately didn’t leave much. Joel bit back on his tongue, he had no right asking about you, not when he treated you like that. 

   The guilt haunted him every day since he walked out of your house that day. His pride not letting him go and apologise to you, and because he also thought that you would be better off without him. You deserved better than an old grumpy man like him. 

   But knowing that he couldn’t even see you around town now, unable to know if you are okay killed him internally. Joel could only blame himself for letting you go. Then he slowly got selfish, till the point where if he saw you again, he would plead every day for your forgiveness and hope that you would give him another chance. He will hold you in his arms, letting you hear his heartbeat, how it skips when he’s near you, how it paces when he sees you. His heartbeat will tell you the words he never got to tell you. Until you finally realize how much you mean to him and that he will forever blame himself for letting you go.

  Just hug me, please hug me

Just run to me without a word

 Joel wishes you would run into his arms again like you always did. You would call out his name and run towards him with a big grin. He will extend his arms out and welcome you into his arms. If the both of you were alone, you would even wrap your legs around him. Then he could let his heart skip a few beats at the sound of your giggles before you nuzzle your nose into his neck. Maybe after you came back from the trip you were on, you would run into his arms again, and he will welcome you like nothing has ever changed. 

With a lonely and anxious heart

Like this I wait for you

  For the first time since that day he fought with you, Joel picked up his guitar and sat on his porch again. He strummed melodies that he knew you would hum to, that you would start walking in beat to. Then you’ll dramatically sing out the lyrics when you see him, like you were a Disney princess in a Disney musical. He chuckles at the memory. Joel Miller will wait for you to come back to him. His music expresses his love for you, hoping that one day you’ll notice it. 

He will talk to the moon about how much he loves you and hope that you’ll forgive him. His lonely heart anxiously awaits the day he will receive the message that you were back in Jackson and he had a chance to make things right with you. 

   His foolish and weak heart wishes that the moon would help convey his love and intentions to you. Joel hopes that you were talking to the moon too. After all, the only thing he had in common with you now was the sky above you from wherever you stood now. 

 I love you, I love you

I’ll shout out from this long silence

My foolish and weak heart

[sapphic-gardn]

Willow | joel miller x f!reader | pt. 2

part 1

Summary: Patrol with Joel is proving to be more difficult than you originally anticipated. Joel says some things he regrets.

(no use of y/n)

Warnings (18+ mdni): mentions of loss/grief, weapons/violence, swearing, age gap (reader is 23, Joel is in his 50s), angst, one-sided pining, no physical description of reader, will specify with each chapter

Word Count: 2.9k

a/n: hiiii! this is the second part to my joel miller fic and wowza i am so excited to share!!! all the love on part one is surreal. i can’t believe people are enjoying my writing—it’s insane to me. i love you ALL so much. i also love all my moots who have welcomed me with open arms into this lil community. happy reading! let me know your thoughts!!!! 💓

credit to @cafekitsune for the cutie divider <3

During the first week of patrol with Joel, you found yourself questioning why you harbored a crush for the man in the first place. He barely spoke, and when he did, it was to scrutinize you. It was an exhausting game of who could hurt the other one more.

When the second week of patrol rolled around, you were determined to evade conflict. The morning played out as usual—a short greeting at the stables and mumbled groans from Joel. The ride out was wordless yet tranquil. Until…

You came to a halt at an abandoned cabin, one you both had passed on patrols before, because something caught your eye. You dismounted your horse and tied her to a tree nearby. Joel got wind of your sudden detour and scoffed.

“What’re you doin’?” Joel’s voice cut through the silence and you quickly signaled to him to stay quiet with a finger to your lips. He reluctantly followed suit and sauntered behind you after securing his horse.

What had captured your attention was the door to the cabin. In passing on every patrol, you noted that the little wooden building and its worn door had been closed—the door was always closed. However, today the door was open. Wide open. A portal to another realm it seemed. Ominous as the darkness beyond it taunted you.

Come and get me.

A challenge presented to you in the form of danger. The windows were boarded up, the only light inside of the cabin coming from the spaces between the wood. You moved swiftly around the perimeter, peeking in the slits before wandering beyond the threshold. With your gun and flashlight at the ready, you skulked through the first room on your right. Clear. As you made your way to the second room, you misjudged your step and tripped on a splintered floorboard. You caught yourself before you could fall but regained your footing with a loud thud.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Your body froze in place. Instantaneously, a blood curdling screech emerged from right behind you. Before you could think, you spun around and fired two bullets into the clicker’s skull. Shit. You scolded yourself. Your mind was going a hundred miles a minute and you couldn’t decipher your surroundings. You lowered your trembling hand that held the gun and looked down at the thing that once was a person. Blood was pooling under your feet and you concluded that the infected man must have been bitten recently. He must’ve broken into the cabin to isolate and wait for his demise. Your stomach sank as you imagined what the man’s life might have looked like before he was bitten. Another casualty amid a monstrous war.

Joel quickly emerged in the doorway, interrupting your spiraling thoughts. Sheer panic washed over his face. “Coulda gotten yourself killed! Gonna get us both killed with the sound’a that goddamn gun!”

With that, Joel hastily made his way to you, grabbed your upper arm, and guided you out of the cabin to the tree where your horses were stationed. You broke free from his firm grip and mounted your horse promptly, still feeling the burn of his touch under your sleeve in the minutes that followed.

Once you both retreated to a safe distance you decided to swallow your pride and apologize, “I-I’m sorry. I should’ve grabbed my knife. I-I should’ve—I was—“

“Damn right you should’ve. Meant what I said when I called you a little girl. That’s exactly what you are. Never thinkin’ before doin’. Think you’re so tough goin’ into that cabin by yourself? Not tellin’ me what the fuck you were up to?” Joel’s voice rumbled with a deep anger that made you shiver. He was fuming, but his tone held a note of worry. Was he scared? Was Joel Miller afraid of losing you? It didn’t matter. His words were a stark contrast to the sentiment.

“Fuck. You.” Those were the only words you could conjure up because…he was right. Of course he was right, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of succumbing to his cruelty. You squeezed the sides of your horse and sped up ahead of Joel from your place beside him. With your back facing Joel, tears rimmed your waterline and flowed freely down your cheeks. The salty taste of tears bleeding onto your lips brought you back to the moment Maria found you, vulnerable and tremulous.

Growing up during an apocalypse rendered the gift of resilience. The way you saw it, words were nothing but sound waves mingling with air as they escaped a bodily vessel. Harsh words deflected off of you like a bullet to fiberglass. But Joel knew exactly how to penetrate that protective shield you so carefully curated.

Before life in Jackson, you had always felt inferior. Viewed as a damsel in distress by the men in your life. But you were so far from it, gathering the courage to leave the Seattle QZ at sixteen to find your parents who disappeared on a smuggling job. Surviving on your own for two years and teaching yourself how to be self-sufficient. You quickly picked up on how to use weapons as well as raid buildings without getting caught (not your best moments). Independence came easily to you and you would be damned if you let some old grump tell you otherwise. Clearly, all he saw in you was a naive little girl.

You return to the stables before Joel. He makes his way in just as you turn to leave. In passing, you glare into Joel’s eyes and hastily shove him with your shoulder on your way out. You’re pretty sure he notices the redness around your eyes from crying. You can see a glint in his eyes that exhibits a look of sorrow. Even if he is sorry, he can’t take it back. He can’t take back the feeling of sheer humiliation that is seeping into your bones. He can’t take it back.

You traipse through the town center, in no rush to get home and sit alone with the voice of doubt in your ear. The smell of pine invades your olfactory senses and the string lights twinkle above you like stars in the night sky. It reminds you of Christmas, before the world ended, sitting criss cross in front of a fireplace with a steaming cup of hot cocoa. And your parents are there. They would buy every toy on your Christmas list just to see you beam up at them and wiggle with glee. You miss them, you never got closure when they vanished. You didn’t find them, you have no knowledge of how they died—or if they even died. You can’t help but wonder if they left you on purpose. You caused trouble in the QZ—always trying to prove a point to someone in authority. Getting kicked out of FEDRA school was the last straw for them, they barely acknowledged your existence after that. But of course you still loved them, they were your parents. You still love them, they are your parents. They were good people before it all, before they became desperate.

The sound of your own sniffle pulls you back to the present. You find yourself on a bench, staring mindlessly at a family of three.

“Hey, you alright?”

A brown haired girl emerges in front of you. She has a look of sympathy painted on her features, yet she speaks so casually. She follows your eye-line to the family in the distance. You recognize her. She is the young girl who is attached at the hip with Joel. Apparently she isn’t his daughter, but technically she is, given what they’ve been through together…Tommy made it all too confusing when he explained it to you.

“I’m okay, yeah, I’m alright. Thanks.” You dismiss the loaded question with a wave of your hand. When your eyes meet hers, your features soften and you see a tinge of something behind her brown eyes. Maybe it’s hurt, or fear, she seems guarded, similar to yourself at that age.

“I’m Ellie,” She eagerly extends her hand and you take it in a firm handshake. You introduce yourself and make room on the bench beside you. She reluctantly takes the spot and sighs, the shape of her breath visible against the contrasting cold air. The first few minutes are silent, neither one of you are keen on breaking the calm air that surrounds you.

“So,” Ellie finally breaks the silence, “rough day, huh?”

You snort, a small smile emerging on your lips, “I guess you could say that. What about you? Aren’t kids your age usually running around the commune finding trouble?” You look at her out of the corner of your eye when she giggles.

“Not much to do around this boring ass place. Plus, my best friend is hanging out with some dude I fucking hate. Count me out on that third wheeling bullshit.” Her vulgarity takes you by surprise, but you find it quite funny.

After awhile, you two fall into easy conversation. She asks you so many questions…so many. It almost feels like an interrogation but you know she’s just curious. It’s endearing, the way she perks up when you answer her questions about life before the apocalypse. You were young, so you barely remember anything, every memory is coated in black and white hues, lacking details, nonetheless, she holds onto every word.

The sun is mostly gone from the sky, which is your cue to start walking home. You and Ellie decide to make the trek back to your neighboring houses together, still entwined in your storytelling the whole way there.

You arrive at your gate and bid your farewells to Ellie with a small wave and a promise to her that she can come over whenever she feels like it.

“He talks about you, you know…Joel. He asks Tommy way too many fucking questions about you too.” Ellie’s words bounce around in your brain and leave you short-circuited. That’s the second time today you’ve been rendered speechless. First by Joel and then by his (kinda) daughter. Ellie reads the dumbfounded expression on your face and sighs, “I just—I know he’s a fucking pain in the ass, but I think he cares about you. Sure as hell doesn’t ask questions about anyone else in this fuckin’ place,” she stares at the ground before she speaks up again, “Uh…look…I-I didn’t mean to trip you up or anything…uh…I’m gonna head home now. I’ll come by tomorrow? Yeah. See you then.” With that, Ellie’s ramble ends and she swiftly makes her escape to her home. The home she shares with Joel. Joel, the man who cares about you? The thought actually makes you laugh out loud.

Joel’s best trait is hurting people. He reads you like a book, he pinpoints every insecurity you harbor, and uses it to push, push, push your buttons. The stone cold exterior you display is merely translucent to someone like Joel. He’s seen it before, every time he looks in the damn mirror. He feels drawn to you, a moth to a flame. If he gets too close, he might get burned. What happens when you set his heart aflame? Maybe you already have.

The front door opens and closes and Joel hears Ellie padding her way to the kitchen where he sits at the table, nursing a tumbler of whiskey. Ellie plops down on the chair across from him.

“What’s got you in such a bad mood today, old man?” Ellie leans over the table and playfully nudges Joel with her fist.

“Not right now, kid. Don’t feel like jokin’ around,” Joel’s eyes flicker to Ellie’s for a moment before refocusing on the amber liquid in his glass.

Ellie throws her hands up in surrender, “Alright dude, just don’t drink yourself to death—that shit would be far more embarrassing than a clicker getting your ass.” She lightheartedly laughs and leaves the kitchen with a pat on Joel’s shoulder, exiting through the back door to her makeshift bungalow in the yard.

Joel figured that a few whiskeys in, the tight feeling in his chest might loosen up. But he’s five glasses in and he can’t stop picturing you. The inconsolable expression on your face as you left the stables haunts him every time he closes his eyes.

His mind takes him to the moment he met you. You were crouching over a patch of vegetables—carrots, maybe? Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and your brows were furrowed in concentration. When Tommy called your name and you looked up, Joel felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs. You were…angelic. Smeared dirt covered your forehead, and beads of sweat gathered at your hairline. Even in your unkempt state, your allure was ever so present. Joel couldn’t bring himself to look at you, even as you reached a hand out to introduce yourself. Then, your witty remark. Something inside of him shifted in that moment and he knew he had to leave. A young, bright woman like you wouldn’t want anything to do with an old, damaged man like Joel. So he did what he does best, he pushed you away, created a distance so you would learn to hate him.

Joel’s outburst on patrol earlier today took it too far. He knows that—but he was terrified that something might’ve happened to you. When he saw you, standing in that abandoned cabin, shock dripping from your expression, with a lifeless clicker on the floor below you, he became angry. Angry that you would be so careless. Angry that you didn’t ask for help. Angry that he cared about you so damn much even when he tried his hardest not to.

On his sixth whiskey, Joel curses to himself as he meanders to his front door. His brain is devoid of all thoughts that don’t include you. Your smile, he wants to make you smile. He wants to be reason you smile, not the reason you cry. He twists the doorknob and forces himself out onto the front porch. Your lights are on. It’s late, why are you still awake? Thank god you’re still awake.

His steps are calculated when he saunters up your walkway. He hesitates, his fist is hovering over your front door. He lightly knocks on the thick wood, but regrets it immediately and turns on his heel to leave. With his back facing away, he hears the click of a lock unlatch and a sliver of light emanating from your open door casts a warm glow on the porch.

“Joel? What are you doing here? Do you need something?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. With the sweet sound of his name spilling from your lips, he turns to face you. The door is now fully open and you are leaning against the door frame. The light coming from inside the house outlines your figure like an angel descending from heaven.

He clears his throat, “‘M sorry, darlin’, is nothing. Get some rest.” Despite his words, he makes no move to leave. You step out from the threshold and lessen the distance between the two of you. Joel searches your eyes, looking for a hint of something, anything that isn’t pure hatred. All he finds is affliction.

You scoff, “C’mon, just spit it out already. I ain’t waitin’ all damn day,” you echo his words from the morning of your first patrol together. Joel notices and he chuckles before regaining his composure.

“‘M sorry. I wanted to come over here and tell ya that. I was fuckin’ scared shitless. I didn’t mean a word I said back there. I trust that y’can hold your own.” Joel’s words catch you off guard. You stutter, all coherent words evade you and your bottom lip starts to tremble. You quickly avert your gaze to hide the imminent tears pooling at your waterline.

You sniffle, “Thanks, Joel. That was probably hard for you, apologizing and all. You can go home now, I forgive you. Just forget it ever happened, m’kay?” You sound defeated and it fractures something within Joel.

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Hey. Look at me,” you meet his gaze and simply melt. The tears fall freely down your cheeks and a small gasp escapes you, “I’m sorry. You don’t gotta let me off the hook, I jus’ gotta tell you ‘m sorry.”

Suddenly, you become hyper-aware of the situation. Mere inches separate you and Joel. He is studying your face, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath. A mixture of lust and hate stirs somewhere within your lower belly.

“Okay,” is the only word you can conjure up. It’s a whisper, barely audible. Joel’s hand cradles your cheek and he swipes a tear away with his thumb. His eyes flicker between your lips and your bewildered gaze. His breath hitches, seeing your beauty up close is otherworldly. He feels himself leaning in, closer, closer, closer. He is a hairbreadth away from grazing your lips when you turn your head. Your buttery voice dances through the air, “Please, Joel. Just go home. I can’t do this right now.”

You turn on your heel and slink back into your house, before closing the door, you breathe a weak, “Goodnight, Joel.”

You don’t know if he says it back.

a/n: ty for reading. ilysm <3 i hope this part lives up to the last one :,) i am so nervy to post this EEEEEK!!

taglist: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery

[dr-george-ordell]

THE DISGRUNTLED GERMAN AND PECULIAR ANOMALY

@nat-of-personifs

Ludwig had immediately recognised the familiar snow-coloured hair that flickered past him at Claire's office-and those golden framed glasses. He had internally panicked immediately, first thought to bolt out the door before Vanguard could potentially recognise him. But he refrained, instead looking away, flustered, hoping the other person didn't recognise him through his admittedly poor disguise. Dread particularly ran through him when golden eyes lingered upon him for a moment, but luckily Vanguard only passed after a few seconds.

Now, he was currently fiddling with something in his hand in one of the backrooms of the meeting hall, though one could've easily assumed it to be a stadium from its sheer size. Normally this sort of presentation wouldn't have unnerved him, or caused him to particularly unravel, but after knowing Vanguard was in attendance today, it set something off inside of him, a sticky, strange vulnerability, torn open like an exposed nerve. And now his temper, alongside his control over his budding anxiety was slipping, at the mindless ramblings of Feliciano.

"-oh what would you like for dinner? Ooh, or maybe dessert first! Tiramisu?" Normally this kind of aimless drivel kept him from going insane from his job, his role, but today it was something that he did not want, or need at the current moment.

"Italy." He grumbled out in a warning voice, coming out much harsher than intended to. The other man stopped for a moment in the middle of his rather animated hand movements, looking at Ludwig with an inquiring look.

"Sorry. Something wrong Germany?" Guilt immediately washed over his mind, his hard expression softening and clenched jaw loosening, the exhausted man sighing as he massaged his forehead, shutting his eyes tightly.

"It's nothing to do with you, Italy." He began, Feliciano cocking his head to the side. "I had- I scheduled an appointment to meet with Claire. This evening. When I went to observe the building as preparation, I saw Vanguard walking out of her office." He coughed out, flushing against his pale pallor. Ludwig cringed as silence continued to wane, feeling more judged at each passing second Feliciano didn't say something. It was so uncomfortable verbalising his issues at another person, but the presence of the boisterous man soothed whatever nerves he had about telling.

To Ludwig's relief-and surprise-the other man just shrugged, still smiling in that ditzy expression he always had, though this time it had a little more love around its edges. "Oh, that's very good!" He approached Ludwig closer, placing both hands on his shoulder while looking up. "It's amazing that you're following my advice." To his surprise, the shorter man then leaned closely to his face with no warning. "But playing with that little thing down there's still always an option!" He winked as he held a salacious smirk, Ludwig gasping at how blatantly crude the other man was being.

"Italy! We're in public!" He replied, in a mixture of embarrassment and mortification. "Scheiße, we'll be late!" Ludwig loudly cursed, looking up at the clock in the room.

-

It was going smoothly thus far. Feliciano had managed to organise his scatter-brained notes into a cohesive order, sitting at his chair until it was his cue to speak at the front about the E.S.A.I., or more formally 'European Scheme of Anomalous Intergration'. Few others had presented before them, some meek, some boldly confident, particularly Alfred, who was allowed to observe, but still had the most to say from the sides.

On a normal, sane day, that would've been his main annoyance from the meeting. Instead, his source of frustration was from Vanguard-or Arek, whatever their name was. They simply sat close to the front, merely taking notes and looking around the place whenever Alfred, or some other representative spoke. What was more maddening was the fact that Ludwig felt like he knew Vanguard well, even though he'd only heard of the other person's existence last week.

Glancing back, the kid looked eerily a lot like Foundation-who Ludwig had come to known as 'Ira'. He wouldn't have exactly called the both of them friends, that'd be ludicrous, but they were cordial enough to be on first name basis, and willingly cover the other's back in regards to the world of anomalous bureaucracy, or the esoteric nature of personifications. Maybe she had only been using him as a backdoor to gain power over him and only saw him as a tool-who knows. But he had begun to miss her, and ever since her death had been declared, he suspected the mysterious stranger that had miraculously appeared one day to cover her role had a hand in her demise. Or atleast was related to her in some way, in how uncannily they looked like her.

He couldn't keep his eyes off the stranger for the rest of the meeting, careful enough not to make eye contact like he did at Claire's practice. But somehow the stranger knew. And dreadfully, he was approached at the end of the presentation while he was packing up the projector all alone, while Feliciano was out to buy lunch from a sushi bar.

"I enjoyed your presentation Ludwig." A smooth voice began from behind, all too familiar. Maybe aside from actual warmth present in such a greeting. Nevertheless it sounded uncannily similar to Ira, as the use of his first, human name immediately set off alarm bells.

Ludwig curtly nodded at the other. "Thank you.” He watched as they placed their hands behind their back, smiling genially at him. Ludwig didn't smile back, as per his nature.

"Your intimate knowledge upon the ins and outs of the Foundation have impressed me. Only a well versed staff member of that organisation, or anyone with access to the security files would have known some of those things you mentioned." They were still smiling, although their probing speech unnerved him immensely. He couldn't tell if such expression was genuine or forced-much to his displeasure.

When Ludwig didn't reply, Arek stepped closer, though still kept an acceptable distance. "My mother mentioned that you worked closely with her upon coordination, among many things." Ah. So a child, not a sibling as he'd presumed. When did the existence of an heir to Ira ever emerge anyways? It's not like personifications sprung up as fully grown functioning adults. This meant the person standing behind them was hidden-and Ludwig was even more wary now at that information.

"I worked with Ira, yes. Is that why you have come here to interrogate me?" He asked in a serious voice, waiting for a reply. Strangely enough, Vanguard looked amused, and let out a light laugh.

"Do you think of me as my mother? Only she would do such thing. The Foundation was archaic to put it lightly. Vanguard isn't like that." They held a jokey tone, though a glint in those firey eyes gave away something of abstract mellowness.

Ludwig coughed to clear his throat, attempting to re-asses how he would approach the kid. "Apologies for my earlier comment."

Arek turned to look out the large, imposing window, down to the traffic of the city in a solemn posture. "It's alright Ludwig. I was just hoping to aim for similar relations between what we represent. Do you mind this afternoon if we'd introduce ourselves to each other? I'd like to hear some of your proposals for integration and cooperation.

Ludwig paused in his wrapping the wires up, face again blushing a brilliant scarlet of the mention of afternoon, and the memory of the other day, of passing the elusive person at the practice.

"I have another urgent appointment this afternoon." He forced himself to not stumble over such embarrassing words, focusing again on packing up in an uncharacteristically messy haste.

Arek merely nodded in acceptance at this, Ludwig hoping they wouldn't question furthur, which they didn't.

Instead when they were leaving, they said a rather peculiar comment.

"Claire's a good one. Good luck for the first session." They replied, grinning, head turned to the side, before shutting the large oak doors behind them, leaving a confused, but pleasantly glowing Ludwig.

-

[sixhours]

bright spots - chapter 5

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Teen Words: 3k Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel & Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, Marlene, canon divergence, hospital AU, medical stuff, blood, hurt/comfort, angst, canon-typical violence, vomiting, implied rape/sexual assault, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Joel

Even after the snow melted and spring showed its colors, Joel could expect to pull Ellie from a fitful sleep of muttering and frantic scrabbling every other night, but at some point, he realizes they’ve been at the hospital for a week and she hasn’t had a nightmare. He chalks it up to the excitement of finding the Fireflies, the change of environment, the sheer exhaustion coupled with a warm bed to sleep in for once.

But tonight, she wakes screaming. The tiled walls bounce the sound around the room turning it into an echo chamber of terror, the flimsy curtain between their beds doing nothing to dampen it.

“Ellie–!”

There’s a garbled response, the faint smell of smoke, and the door to their room swings open just as Joel is pulling back the curtain. A switch is flicked and the room is flooded with light. Ellie is tangled in the sheets, thrashing against some invisible enemy. He moves toward her bed only to have one of the guards raise his rifle.

“Get away from her!”

Joel eyes the man with disbelief. “She’s–”

Ellie has managed to sit up, gasping in raw, ragged breaths, sweat-slick hair plastered to her cheeks, her forehead. She looks at Joel and whimpers his name, eyes latching onto him like he’s a lighthouse in the dark and she’s a ship lost at sea.

“M’right here, kiddo,” he says, pointedly turning his back on the guards. “S’alright, you’re with me.”

“Get back!”

“Joel–?”

“I know, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he mutters, gritting his teeth as he goes to her, shielding her from the soldiers. Two more guards have crowded into the room, three hover in the doorway, and he can hear distant voices down the hall.

Half the goddamned force for one little girl’s bad dream , Joel thinks, trying to keep his words soft and steady as he pulls her carefully into his arms. “Ellie, hey, look at me. You’re safe, you’re with me. Remember the hospital? We’re safe.”

“B-but–”

“I said back the fuck up!” the guard shouts, and Joel feels Ellie jerk at the sound, setting his blood to boil, hands flexing, ready to feel the crack and splinter of bone. If he thought he could leave her side for even a second, the man would be dead.

“Put the gun down,” he snaps over his shoulder instead. “You’re scarin’ her.”

“What’d you do?” the other man growls.

“The fuck is going on?”

Marlene’s voice rings out as she shoves her way through the gathering crowd.

“The kid started screaming,” a guard says. “Thought he was hurting her–”

She looks at Joel, then wrinkles her nose, sniffing at the air. On the floor, a cigarette butt smolders, wispy trail of smoke winding its way up. She wheels on the crowd.

“Was someone smoking ?”

There’s a smothered cough. A guard, one of the first to barge in, looks at his feet.

“Smoking. In a fucking hospital of all places, I can’t–Jesus fucking Christ, get the fuck out of my sight. All of you. Back to your posts,” Marlene snaps, then looks around in disbelief as the crew hesitates. “NOW!”

The room clears. She turns back to Joel with an exasperated huff. “What happened?”

“Nightmare,” Joel mutters. Ellie is watching him, still in that half-asleep state of confusion, eyes blank with fear, a deer caught in the headlights. He draws a thumb along her temple, trying to bring her back.

Marlene sighs, stomps her boot into the cigarette and snuffs it out, bending down to pick up the filter. “I’ll be outside.”

Joel doesn’t acknowledge her exit, just pulls Ellie closer and rubs a soothing hand up and down her arm. She shivers. “You’re alright. You’re safe.”

It feels like a lie.

“There was a fire,” she whispers when her breathing has slowed. “Couldn’t get out.”

He eyes the spot on the floor where Marlene stamped out the cigarette, the flecks of ash smeared into the tile. “No fire here, kid. Just a couple of idiots takin’ a smoke break.”

She hums against him.

“Think you can get back to sleep?” he prompts when she goes quiet. Her response is small and muffled against his side.

“Stay?”

Something almost forgotten tugs at his heart and his throat goes tight. “Sure, kid.”

He urges her over and settles at the edge of the bed. It doesn’t take long; she’s already half-asleep when she pillows her head on his outstretched arm, the fingers of one hand curled in his t-shirt. Within minutes, she’s drooling on his sleeve. When she’s sleeping soundly, he carefully extracts her from his side and eases off the bed, tucking the blanket around her shoulders and turning off the light.

He leaves the room, finds Marlene has taken the guards’ place outside the door. She’s sitting with her legs stretched in front of her, crossed at the ankles, head tilted back against the window.

“You gonna have to call off your thugs every time the kid has a bad dream?”

Marlene doesn’t respond, just opens her eyes and considers him for a moment. Then she sighs and stands. “Let’s have a drink.”

He scoffs, leaning in the doorway, making no move to follow her.

“Right,” she mutters. “Haven’t cut the umbilical cord yet.”

She turns and walks down the hall, ducking into her office. He would prefer she stay there, but she comes back carrying a bottle and two plastic cups. She pours a generous shot into one of the cups and wordlessly holds it out to him.

Joel doesn’t move to take it.

“What, you think I’m gonna poison you? Jesus.”

She downs the shot, then pours another into the same cup and holds it out again. “Better?”

Joel snorts but he takes it. The whiskey burns like the FEDRA-grade stuff from the QZ, makes his stomach cramp with memory.

Marlene eases down into her chair and pours herself a drink, then sits back and looks up at him.

“What happened to Tess?”

He takes another drink, a long one this time, hoping it hides the involuntary tic in his jaw at the mention of her name.

“I heard there was an explosion at the capitol building. Was she–”

He cuts her off with a glare. “She’s gone.”

“I’m sorry,” she says after a pause. “We didn’t always see eye to eye but Tess was a force back in the QZ. I admired her. I know you two were…close.”

Joel barely holds back a sneer. “You don’t know shit.”

“Alright,” she says. “New subject. What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?”

A sour chuckle. “Right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Ain’t gonna happen.”

“I care about Ellie, too, Joel. More than you probably realize.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he says sarcastically.

She sets her jaw. “Her mother…Anna…was…we were close. We were like you and Tess, once…partners.”

He takes her meaning and arches a brow.

“Then Anna was bit, and I promised her I would take care of her daughter.”

“So you dropped the kid off at the orphanage and called it good, huh? Real carin’,” he snorts.

“She was safe,” she fires back. “She wouldn’t have made it otherwise. I checked in, kept tabs on her. Made sure she had what she needed. It may not have been enough, but it was the best I could do.”

Joel grits his teeth, imagining not for the first time what Ellie’s life would have looked like if he’d somehow managed to find her sooner. Not that he’d been looking, not that he’d have been able to care for her if he had.

“Safe…‘til she wasn’t,” he says.

Marlene looks into her cup. “Yeah. I don’t think there’s anywhere I could have put her that could have contained her. She gave them hell.”

He feels an involuntary flush of pride burning in his chest at that, chases it with the last of his liquor.

“So, what–you want a fuckin’ medal?” he sighs.

“No. I just want you to appreciate, for a second, the scope of this effort. The sacrifices we’re making.”

He scoffs.

“We’ve all lost people, Joel,” she continues. “What would you give to know you wouldn’t have to lose another partner…another friend…your brother…to a bite? That’s what we’re trying to do here. With Ellie. And we have a shot, a really good shot. And I don’t need your cooperation, but it would be good to have it. Because I see how much she means to you…and I see how much she desperately wants you with her on this.”

He winces.

“How the hell’d you find her?” he rumbles. “How’d you figure out she was immune?”

“Dumb luck, if you can believe that. She was with one of our recruits at the mall in the QZ. They’d both been bit.”

She leans forward on her knees, swirling the contents of her drink in her cup.

“I recognized her right away. Hadn’t seen her in a few years, but…she looks so much like Anna, I just…I knew. She was scared…waiting to turn. Said it had been hours with no signs…and it didn’t happen.”

Joel frowns. “So let’s say this cure of yours works. Your doctor…does whatever the fuck it is he’s going to do and you make a…a vaccine. What happens then?”

“Well…it’s hard to say until we know what’s involved, but…we find manufacturers and start distribution. Get the vaccine out to as many people as we can.”

“And what’s it gonna cost?”

“It’s too early to tell, but…it’s not about the resources.”

“So out of the goodness of your heart, huh? You’ll just, what, hand the formula to FEDRA? Say ’sorry ’bout all those car bombs, let us make it up to you?’”

She smiles slyly. “There may be a little more nuance to it than that.”

“Right,” he says drily. “S’what I thought.”

“I know you like to think you’re above that shit, but…politics will probably come into play. But I’d like to believe FEDRA and the Fireflies and all the other factions will figure out how to work together to do what’s best for the common good.”

“‘The common good.’ Uh-huh.”

“Yes. I know it’s hard to believe, but not everyone is as jaded and disillusioned as you. Some of us have hope.”

He sneers at that. “And you’re the woman to lead the charge, huh? Lucky us.”

She gets to her feet with a groan and a dark laugh. “What, you think this whole thing is some kind of elaborate power trip, is that it? That I’ve slaved my ass off and lost countless men– good men–to play queen of the mountain in some fuckin’ fantasy world?”

He shrugs, tips his head. “You said it, not me.”

She narrows her eyes. “I want the same things you want, Joel–”

“I don’t think you do,” he says, cutting her off. “I think we have very different ideas of what a good outcome looks like for that little girl in there. An’ that’s why I don’t see me trustin’ you as far as I can throw you.”

She presses her lips in a thin line, nostrils flaring, before shaking her head and putting up her hands in mock surrender.

“Think about it,” she sighs. “If not for me…then for her.”

“That’s exactly who I’m thinkin’ about.”

“Are you? You’ve known her for six months, Joel, but I held her in my arms when she was hours old. I’ve watched her grow up. I care for her, too. I know you may not agree with the decisions I made, and her immunity…makes this complicated. But the only one you’re harming by keeping us apart is her.”

Joel scowls, but something inside him softens a fraction. The longing in Ellie’s voice, the shine in her eyes.

She knew my mom.

“She’s perceptive, Joel,” Marlene continues, looking at him intently. “And eventually…what you’re doing will drive her away. That’s not propaganda. That’s just common fucking sense.”

He grimaces as Marlene retreats down the hall, leaving him to wonder if it’s the whiskey souring his stomach, or the doubt.

Ellie

She remembers the cloying smell of smoke as the fire raged, eating up all the oxygen in the room, making it hard to breathe, the crackling sound of wood burning as he called her name in a sing-song lilt, hiding under the counter with a knife clutched in her shaking, sweaty hand.

She remembers the feeling of his hands on hers, the ache in her head and the panic when he’d straddled her, groping and pawing as she writhed and screamed until her throat was raw.

She remembers the feeling of the cleaver as it sunk into his skull over and over, the slight catch every time she pulled it up, the warm spray of blood and bits on her face when she brought it down. Again and again and again, screaming.

Then there were men yelling, and Joel was with her, and Marlene. Then just Joel, solid and warm beside her, wrapped in his familiar scent with her face pressed to his sleeve. Safe.

She sits up in bed, rubbing at her eyes. The room is bright with morning sun, and Joel is sitting in the chair next to her. Had he stayed there all night?

“Hey, kiddo,” he rasps when he realizes she’s awake. “Feelin’ alright?”

She squints into the light. “Yeah.”

“You remember last night?”

“I don’t–I don’t think so,” she lies, shuddering.

“You, uh…you had a nightmare.”

“Oh,” she blinks, keeping her eyes on her lap. “I guess.”

His voice is too soft, too careful. “Silver Lake?”

She squeezes her eyes shut.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He asks every time. She swallows hard and shakes her head. There’s a long pause, a tired sigh. His disappointment is palpable and she can’t look at him, stays staring at the backs of her hands. She doesn’t know when it happened, but at some point in their time together, she started craving his approval like oxygen. If she sees the concern in his eyes, she won’t be able to breathe.

“Alright,” he says quietly. “If you need…need to, uh–”

“I don’t.”

He ducks his head in a nod. “Alright. So, I, uh…I talked with Marlene…last night…”

Now that gets her attention.

“And she’s still alive?” she tries, searching his face for some clue as to where the hell this is going.

“Yeah, she’s still alive.”

“And you didn’t, like, punch her or break her neck or–?”

He glares at her but there’s no heat to it.

“What? It’s a fair question.”

“No, I didn’t hurt her. Like I said, we talked, and I, uh…I wanted to apologize.”

She blinks in surprise, wonders briefly if she’s still dreaming. Just to be sure, she pinches her thigh under the blanket. She’ll find a small bruise there next time she showers.

Nope, not dreaming.

“Been so focused on keepin’ you safe that I…maybe got carried away,” he says, scratching at his chin. “It ain’t fair for you to…to uh, have to play referee–”

“Yeah, it’s really no fucking fun,” she spits out, probably more harshly than she should, but Joel just frowns thoughtfully.

“I still don’t trust her,” he says. “An’ I think you should be careful. But…you’re a smart kid. It’s your decision. If you wanna know about your…your mom…I get it. I won’t stop you.”

“So…you’re not gonna flip out if I talk to her? Alone?”

“No,” he says carefully. “I…I trust you.”

The weight of those words soothes a fear she didn’t know she had. Her throat tightens and she has the unexpected and overwhelming urge to hug him, to wrap her arms around his neck and hold on. Can she even do that? Is that the kind of thing they do now? She can count on one hand the number of times they’ve hugged, and it’s always when one of them is in danger or dying or some shit. Not for this. Not for…feelings.

Before she can decide, he puts a warm hand on her shoulder and squeezes, then gets up with one of his old-man groans, grimacing. Yeah, he definitely stayed in that chair all night.

“Joel?” she tries, unsure what to say, but feeling like she needs to say something . “I, uh…”

He turns to look at her, cocks an eyebrow.

She swallows, shrugs, and loses her nerve. “You wanna play Boggle?”

A faint smile flickers across his face. “What, so you can kick my ass again?”

She grins. “Maybe I’ll let you win one.”

“Sure you will,” he snorts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ll play. Get dressed. Lemme have my coffee.”

She’s thankful when he turns away and pulls the curtain shut behind him, leaving her to wrestle her feelings without an audience. She eases out of bed and goes to her bag, pulls out her day clothes–jeans and a t-shirt, clean and folded. She’s pretty sure Joel has been washing their stuff in the bathroom sink because the fabric smells faintly like the Fireflies’ soap, and the thought makes something in her chest feel warm.

I trust you.

She doesn’t know what to do with this Joel, the one who looks at her like she made the stars and apologizes when he’s been an asshole and holds her when the dreams are bad. She doesn’t know what she did to deserve to be treated with kindness.

And she sure as hell doesn’t know how to talk to him about it.

She’s just finished pulling on her t-shirt when his hand appears at the curtain, hesitating.

“Ellie? You decent?”

“Never,” she quips. “But I’m clothed.”

“Good enough,” he grumbles. He pulls back the curtain, holding the yellow game box in his other hand, then tosses it to her. “You set up, I’m gonna go check on breakfast.”

“Deal,” she says, catching the box easily, happy to put the other stuff out of her mind for a while. She's got a game of Boggle to win.

[kytedevlin]

Pt. 3

She pours him a cup of warm tea as he takes a seat in the lounge chair seated adjacent to the fire, he sinks in about 4 inches, his eyes weary from the day, began to droop with a sense of euphoric relief, as he stares toward the cityscape which seem to stare back with bright lights emanating from its core contrasted against the dark silhouette of countless offices, apartments, and businesses that have closed down for the day. An air of stillness amidst the constant downpour of rain that blankets the city. Henry can’t help but get lost in the quiet of it all, his lucidity only awakens when Victoria steps in front of the window with her own cup of tea. Staring down at the cityscape from in front of the window in the same fashion as he looks on from his chair. He stares into her with same intensity, becoming lost in her visage as he once was looking out of the window.

Victoria: *Elated* So how was your day?

Henry’s concentration jogged as he answers without a thought.

Henry: *Distant* It was great. Really.

Victoria: Really? You look exhausted.

Henry: *Flabbergasted* Yeah, I got the contract… everything went…….great.

Victoria: *Elated* Oh that’s wonderful, I am so proud of you.

She walks over to give him a hug as she passes into the kitchen to put down her finished cup of tea. Quickly rinsing it in the sink before placing it into the top shelf of the dishsteamer.

Victoria: I would say we should celebrate but it is the Holidays.

Henry: Oh honey, this is fine. Besides this is just to get the job, I’ll still have to keep it.

Victoria: Oh, You worry too much!, if they liked this project I am sure they will love your next one.

Henry: *Melancholic* I hope so.

Victoria: *Flirtatiously* Come on it’s late, come to bed.

Henry: I will be up in a moment, just let me finish this cup.

Victoria: *Reluctantly* Alright. Can you put the fire out on your way up for me?

Henry: Yeah.

Victoria walks upstairs into the bedroom while Henry sinks back into the chair. The sound of the crackling fire fills the space, along with that of a ticking clock above the mantle. He takes a sip of his tea begins to get lost in the cityscape again, the camera slowly zooms into reflection of the cityscape within the electric blue of his eyes, the sound of the fire grows louder and seen through the reflection of his eyes a great flame sets the city ablaze, sirens begin to resound loudly, drowning out the ticking clock so all that remains is the sound of sirens and the blazing flames. After a brief moment tears begin to well up in the corner of his eyes causing him to blink, he rubs is eyes when they close, placing his index finger and thumb under the rim of his glasses and into his eye sockets gently pressing and rubbing his eyes under his eyelids. When he releases them and reorients his glasses on his face. The reflection of the fire upon the cityscape is gone. He rises from his chair and walks over to the fireplace where he grabs the poker, he then rotates the burning wood on to its un burned side, pressing it down to snuff out the flame beneath it. He turns to walk up the stairs and as he does the light from the center of the cityscape is the only illumination in the apartment. Once he gets to the top of the stairs he looks down the hall in the direction of the front door, a dim light peaks out from a crack in the door at the end, his daughters bedroom.He walks up to the door, gently pushing the door open to peer inside, and inside a small lump in the bed placed in the back corner of the room, is shining a light on something, causing an obscured view of the small girl inside. Henry takes a few steps into the room watching the small silhouette making small movements under the sheer of the sheets.

Henry: Abby?

Abigail: *Startled* Oh.

She frantically turns off the light, and begins to make fake snoring noses.

Abigail:*Snoring*

Henry: *Chuckling* Oh my i thought my abby was awake. If she was I was going to take her to get some ice cream. But I’ll just *Fake Yawn* head to bed…….

He waits for her response, looking at the fake sleeping girl through the corner of his eye, the light peaking in from the main rooms windows adding subtle illumination.

Abigail: Wait…wait!

Henry: Gotcha! What are you doing up so late?

Abigail: *Shyly*Coloring.

Henry: You should have been asleep hours ago.

Abigail: But i wanted to make you a Christmas present.

Henry: Oh… can i see it?

Abigail: No, you have to wait until Christmas. No peeking.

She puts her hand up and begins wagging her finger.

Henry: Aww….You got me, I guess I’ll just have to wait.

Abigail: Can I still have some ice cream.

Henry: It is a little late honey, how about I throw in a cake for Christmas?

Abigail: *Elated* Really?

Henry: Only if you go to bed.

Abigail: Promise?

Henry: I promise. Good night.

Abigail: Night, night.

Henry exits Abigail’s room and closes the door just enough for the moons light to peak through, he walks into his own room and disrobes, he places his glasses on the nightstand and crawls into bed next to Victoria who is already asleep. He kisses her on the cheek and she turns over, placing her arm over his chest and coiling her leg around his. She doesn’t awaken in this shift of position, her face towards his, he stares at her sleeping face. The calmness that she exudes in this quiet moment, the slow pressure of her breaths squeezing his arm, and the warmth of her body heat as though he never left the hearth to come upstairs. The downpour of rain still continuing outside, large droplets crashing against the bedroom window and sliding doors to the patio that houses the fire escape. Henry looks briefly at the rain before staring up to the ceiling.

Henry: Good night, Victoria.

The sound of her breaths her response. He closes his eyes and his consciousness washes away with the rain.

2 weeks later….

INT. Henry’s Home, DAY, Christmas Eve

The smell of a homestyle breakfast fills the apartment with a cacophony of delectable flavors, homemade pancakes with sausage, eggs, freshly cut and squeezed oranges, and brewed coffee. The sounds of a kitchen come to life abound throughout the apartment as Henry dawns his clothing for the day. He is getting ready to visit work for the last time of the year and make sure he has a clean office at the start of the new year. It’s not a requirement but Henry always likes to make sure his offices look brand new before each new year, to help the flow of ideas he believes it needs to feel as though he has never been there before. He heads downstairs to grab a some coffee and head to the office to clean up.

Television: Inaudible News

Victoria: Honey don’t play with your food.

Abigail: I am not playing with it. Can o have some syrup please.

Henry: Here you go.

Henry passing the syrup from next to the coffee maker.

Henry: It smells really good down here.

Victoria: Do you have time to sit down and eat?

Henry: I’ll just take coffee for now, can you save a plate for me and I’ll have it when i get back? I will only be a few hours.

Victoria: Sure thing honey.

Henry leans in for a kiss goodbye before heading out of the door. The television becomes the focus of the camera just as the door closes.

Television: …..A strange string of fires lead police to believe that they are somehow connected. More at 4. Stay tuned into The Daily Docket for your daily news.

Fade to

Int. Office Building , Henry’s Office

Henry has already begin organizing different boxes with labels for his tools, books, and paper materials. A lone magazine on his desk that reads “Architectural Digest” with the latest in home designs. Henry is not a home builder but he hopes to one day Draw and charter his own, perhaps this contract may set him up to do so. At least, that is what Henry would like to think, he is completely contented in his current living situation, the bills will soon be paid and eviction will be a thing of his past. He grabs the magazine and places it on top of the box labeled books, and slides it next to the door with the rest of his neatly organized things. Wiping some of the sweat from his brow, he slightly askews his glasses, he takes them off to readjust and notices a smudge on the lens, he begins to give them a quick scrub, grabbing a piece of his buttoned undershirt, licking it , then proceeding to scrub the smudge. Afterwards he gives them a quick look in the dimming fluorescent lighting of his office and then holding them out in front him to check for clarity. As he does so he spots Elizabeth walking down the hallway with what looks to be another person in tow. The hallway through the many rented offices being so narrow you have to walk through them in single file, and with Elizabeth being so tall you could hardly see a person of average height behind her. He quickly re tucks his shirt and places his glasses on to get a better look. Just as his glasses become reoriented on his face they have reaches his door.

Elizabeth: Hello Henry, I am glad I caught you before you left for the day, I would like to introduce you to someone.

The person steps from behind her and it is a woman of slightly below average female height with a generally athletic build only let on by her features being slimmed by her gray pencil skirt and her tucked in white undershirt. She wears a gray polkadot vest with a short black tie, her athletic calves showing through the sheer of her pantyhose that lead to her 3 inch “Christian Louis Vuitton” heels. She has a fair milk toned skin with an almost ghostly, long platinum blonde hair that trails behind her to her waist, pulled back into a ponytail at her shoulder’s length. Her eyes are an icy blue that sits atop her iris’ like the first frost of a hard winter. She wears minimal makeup aside from winged black eyeliner and slight rose pink rouge to match the sparkling bubblegum colored lipstick that accentuate her lips.

Woman: Hello, my name is Vivian, but my friends call me Ivy.

Henry: Nice to meet you Vivian, Henry. But I am sure you already heard.

Elizabeth: Ivy here is Mr. Holloway’s daughter and she will be overseeing your project this summer.

Henry: Oh that is great, what part of the project.

Vivian: The entire project actually.

Henry: The entire project!?, this summer!?

Henry is taken aback as the plan is set to take part over multiple months if not years, sure part of it can be started in the summer but to try to fit the entire build into a few months would not only require expedited permits but the area would need to reserved for all construction, the area has not yet been cleared for construction just yet.

Vivian: Yes, certain circumstances have allowed us to proceed with your project.

Henry: Circumstances?

Elizabeth: You haven’t heard? It has been all over the news lately.

Henry: Heard what?

Vivian: There have been a string of fire related incidents lately, the result being, this project becoming expedited.

Henry: Fires?

Elizabeth: Yes, we will have plenty of time to discuss the finer details but she will be your prime contact and contractor for this project so be sure to treat her nice.

Vivian: I am sure we will het along fine, I wanted to ask if you had some time over the holidays to meet with me to go over some of the plans.

Henry: Well me and my wife are having a small dinner just some friends from the apartment and their family, you could join us for dinner and we can discuss it then?

Vivian: Id love to, what time?

Henry: 6 p.m. should give enough time for introductions with dinner around 8. Elizabeth you are welcome to come as well it would give me some time to introduce you to my family.

Elizabeth: I will think about it. But don’t wait up on my account.

Vivian: Sounds great Henry, I will see you then!

Elizabeth: Alright Ivy let me show you around the premises….

They wave their goodbyes and begin to walk down the corridor once more, their conversation trailing off in the distance.

Henry: A string of fires?, well i’ll be… I guess I should consider it, good luck.

Henry finishes packing up his office and gives it one final look before turning off its light and closing the door.

Ext. Apartment Building

Henry pulls up to his apartment building in his baby blue bug, his parking spot directly in front of the building is free, as most people park across the street in the public parking lot. Henry figures that since the building is still full of private residency someone should park it front of it as such. Even Walther and his family use a reserved section of the public parking lot. People have come to think Henry’s car belongs to the Janitor, since it is not parked in front of the day but sticks around all night when the janitors begin to make their rounds. No one bothers it and sometimes they even leave something for him on his car in the morning. Coupons, a coffee, and even the occasional donut. Henry of course just believes someone is being nice or has mistaken it for the landlords car. Though they have to know that Walther drives a “Rolls Royce” and wouldn’t even take a ride to the other side of the parking lot in Henry’s “Volkswagen”, let alone be the prestigious owner and driver of one. Regardless Henry’s Bug is something he takes pride in it is a living example of time-tested engineering and that he could only hope people will take that same pride in his architecture. As Henry gets out of the bug he makes the decision to leave his work instruments in the car, as it will just create needless clutter for the evening. He heads down the usual quiet corridor to which he has become accustomed, buy the holiday spirit has reached it in respect for the time of year. The normally dimly lit green hued corridor is now a spectacle of reds, greens, and golds. While the normally dull interior has its own sense of flair, Walther makes sure that when the Holidays come around the entire building looks the part. For such a stickler and peculiar person, Walther happens to love the Holidays and is always grinning around this time of year. A good note for anyone who needs an extension on their eviction bill. Henry finishes his usual journey on the elevator in relative silence, he reaches the door to his home and before he can grab the doorknob Victoria opens the door.

Victoria: Hey! I thought I heard the elevator, i figured it was you, all the neighbors have already gotten started.

Henry: Sorry about that, Elizabeth introduced me to my Supervisor for the project today.

Victoria: Oh is that so, who is he?

Henry enters the door placing his keys down on the counter next to the small pile of eviction notices. And sits down on one of the stools that decorate the outer side of the counter. Victoria walks around into the kitchen grabbing a cup of water.

Henry takes a small sip of water, refreshing his parched throat.

Henry: She, actually.

Victoria: Really now? Who is this she then?

Henry: She, well, Vivian, her name is, but her friends call her Ivy. Is the boss’ daughter.

Victoria: The same guy who smokes like a chimney or so I’m told, he sends his daughter to supervise your work?

Henry: Yeah i assume its to keep an eye on my project up close, if he keeps everything in house, if something goes bad he doesn’t have to deal with another company going to someone else and tracking his name through the mud.

Victoria: Well how is she?, like, y’know?

Henry: If you are asking if she is pretty… yes she is. But you will meet her tonight I invited her and Elizabeth over.

Victoria: Oh you should have told me, I haven’t prepared anything to wear.

Henry: What’s wrong with what you have on?

Victoria: Exactly!

Henry: Well she wont be here until 6, and Elizabeth said she might not make it.

Victoria: But what about Walther and his family?

Henry: I don’t think we can count on Walther to show u-

Ding Dong!

Victoria gives Henry an IToldYouSo expression.

Victoria: Do you mind? I am going to go freshen up.

Henry shrugs shyly

Henry: Yeah, i’ll get the door, where is abby?

Victoria: She is upstairs, you can send the kids up to her room immediately I am sure she is excited to have friends over.

Victoria heads upstairs as Henry shuffles around dusting himself off, frantically deciding whether he should leave his coat on or take it off. In the midst of the shuffle he notices the eviction notices on the counter, he quickly grabs them as he takes his coat off placing them under his coat as he wraps his coat over his left arm, while he answers the door with his right.

Walther: Henry! Hey how have you been, you look great!

Walther in festive fashion hugs Henry with enthusiasm shuffling and shaking his body, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him and hugging him once more, patting him up and down. As he pulls him in for another hug a woman appears just inside the door way pulling the two children along. All well fitted to her vivaciously curvy figure, a hefty bust, that if not for the scarf would be overflowing from her petticoat, but even still an abundant amount of moisturized vanilla caramel toned cleavage is pronounced amongst her beautifully translucent brown hazel eyes, adorned with black wing tipped eyeliner with brown eyeshadow sprinkled with a fairy like glitter, which is generously applied to her caramel toned matte lipstick, person might find themselves lost among her visage.

Walther: You remember my wife Christine right?

Christine: Hi, Henry how have you been, Victoria told us about your project, congratulations!

Henry: Hello, and thank you. We are really eager to get started on it we break ground this summer.

Walther: Come on kids say hi to your dad’s good friend Henry.

Kids: Hi Henry!

Henry: Hi kids. You guys can head upstairs Abby is in her room, just head to the left and it should be the facing the stairs. If you go down the hallway on the right, then you have gone too far.

Kids: Okay, let’s go!

The two of them giggling the whole way.

Henry: Here let me take your coats.

Walther: Thank you. Wow you really make place feel lived in. I knew you wore glasses but I didn’t take you for such a big reader Henry.

Henry: They are mostly pictures.

Christine: Well he is an architect, he must have to look up a lot of information to get the latest news.

Henry: Really, they are mostly pictures, but sometimes I sit down.

Christine: So where is Victoria?

Victoria: I am right here, hey how are you two?

Henry glad to have Victoria come down the stairs, he still hasn’t placed his coat on the rack as he is hiding the eviction notices just as fervently as the two guests are completely ignoring that they have ever posted them on their door.

Victoria: You two look great, I wasn’t expecting you two to get all dressed up just for dinner.

Christine: We actually just came from a school play, they were doing the nativity story.

Walther: Yeah it was great, The teachers did a great job, who would have known kids were able to recite lines like that.

Christine: Yes it was beautiful. Did your daughter’s school do a play this year.

Henry: Oh no, her school has a policy about religious symbolism.

Christine: Oh that’s a shame, you should bring her over to where our kids go, we can even take her to school in the morning.

Walther: Yeah henry it will be great, it will give you some time to work on that old bucket. I can’t even imagine how you can still drive that old thing.

Henry: It was a hand me down actually.

Walther: Woah Henry I didn’t know you had siblings. There are more of you running around?

Walther says jokingly. Victoria instinctively covers her mouth.

Henry: I don’t talk about it that much.

Henry looks over to Victoria and gives her a reassuring look.

Henry: It is okay honey.

Walther: What’s going on you are you two hiding something?

Henry: It is a hand me down from my older brother he died in an accident.

Christine: Walther!

Walther: Hey! i didn’t know!, All this time you have been living here, and you didn’t say anything.

Henry: Well i don’t really talk about it.

Christine: So what happened?

The once cheery atmosphere of the room changes. Victoria quietly goes to the kitchen and begins preparing the roast for the evening.

Henry: Well I said an accident but he was murdered, someone attacked him late at night as he was coming home from the job site. The building collapsed and was burned down. But his body had stab wounds deeper than any framing and there was no rebar being used. But they ruled it an accident.

Walther:Wow, I am sorry to hear that.

Victoria: Honey why don’t you run upstairs and get freshened up.

Henry: I will.

Henry heads upstairs, as he gets up to the top of the stairs he can hear the kids playing in the next room. He quickly stows away into the master bedroom, placing his coat down on the bed. He begins loosening up his tie and kicking off his shoes, he takes a look into the mirror placed off to the side just behind the door. From he sees weariness on his face causing him to look much more bedraggled than he had felt until just a moment ago. He walks to the master bathroom parallel to the door to his bedroom to the left of his bed stand, throwing his tie onto the bed, the eviction notices that were loosely tucked away underneath his coat tumble carelessly to the ground.

[vastayan--vigilante]

“Hah! I knew you liked me!”

Jinx sounded delighted. Well, good. It was important that she received a warm welcome with appropriate appreciation. She had travelled all the way through the vents to find him, after all. That was a very impressive feat.

“Pfft and you guys thought I was crazy after spendin’ a few days stuck in a room.”

Scar shrugged.

"Am very high," he confided in Jinx as though this was some grand reveal and not patently obvious from the state of his appearance, "Very tired. Had very bad day. Not crazy, though."

Or am I? Who knows.

A light scraping against his palm, borderline ticklish; Jinx was poking him through the vent, one of the only forms of physical contact she could make through the barrier between them. It should have been irritating, but instead it was grounding. Immensely reassuring. She was really there. He could feel that she was really there.

“Oh, y’know, I just followed the clues…listened to people blabbering and here I am! It’s pretty cool what you can get done when you don’t have to convince a whole team.”

Yeah, that was pretty much what he'd expected.

"Sneak." His voice was fond. "Ekko's gonna be so mad."

Hopefully a little less mad when she gave him the good news, though.

“Guess you're Sevika’s pet now, huh?”

If he'd been sober, that remark would have stung more. But it wasn't exactly inaccurate, and he was just buzzed enough to find it funny, in a fucked up way.

"Woof woof, that's me," he quipped back dryly, with the morbid humour of someone whose capacity for outrage at his situation had been soundly smothered - namely, by sheer exhaustion, and a pleasantly euphoric drug high.

 “Ohhhhh let me guess, she’s doin’ the ‘mean ‘n keen’ routine: ‘All you gotta do is ‘play nice’...I’m a reasonable person, this is about your choices…blaaaaah blaaah blaaah’ - am I getting it right?”

That was... uncannily accurate, actually.

Scar snorted at the impression. It was validating to hear someone take the piss out of Sevika, for once. No one did that here. But Jinx knew what she was like, and she was in the vents, so she was free to say stuff like this.

"You get it," he informed Jinx solemnly, patting at the grate of the air vent - then he paused, brow furrowing, trying to remember. There was something he needed to tell her. Something important.

Getting something right...

Choices...

Ah. That was it.

"...I didn't snitch. I didn't. But she knows about the tree - about Ahri."

A swell of urgency finally forced its way through the pleasant haze. He gripped the grating of the vent with abrupt fervency, holding Jinx's gaze.

"Is my family okay? Is everyone okay? You need to warn Ekko - someone's talked - you're not safe."

@just--a--jinx

"You found me." (@vastayan--vigilante )

Everything that followed the mission had been a bore. 

There was no adrenaline now. No electricity. People moved like their limbs were attached to anchors, scuffing their feet, as they convened with hollowed eyes. Some of them were still crying. Eugh. Was this what happened whenever somebody didn’t come back from a mission? Jinx doubted the same rituals of grief would be extended if she’d been the one who hadn’t made it back. 

Whatever. Whilst everyone wasted time stewing on Scar’s Oh-So-Brave sacrifice, playing it over in their heads, blaming themselves and mentally replaying time, Jinx contemplated her last glimpse of the vastayan. Sevika had got him preeeeetty good. Sure, that usually was a death sentence. But how long did it take to drive a blade through somebody or shoot them in the head? You didn’t waste time binding someone’s wrists if you were gonna kill them good ‘n quick. You didn’t! Sevika didn’t. You tied someone up to play the Long Game. Jinx had seen it done more times than she could count- she’d even partaken in a few of the ventures herself. So that had to mean Scar wasn’t dead, at least not yet…right? If he was dead his body would be left in the street. Sevika and her goons never tidied up their messes. 

Jinx wandered idly past the memorial wall’s latest cluster of visitors, lighting candles and painting. Sheesh, were they that used to their friends dying that they’d already given up hope? Had nobody else picked up on the signs out there? Pausing, Jinx scanned the group, noting Ekko near the heart of it. For a moment, she hesitated before turning on her heel and heading towards the tree. 

She could dart back out there to check if Scar’s body was left in the gutter. What if his body wasn’t there and her hunch was right? Priggs? There was nowhere else they could take him. Priggs still had its old boltholes. Maybe she could find a clue. Something useful to bring back to Ekko and all the others so they stopped being so…boring. Maybe Scar was going to be kept for some questioning. The Firelights had made more of a name for themselves, so it made sense for Sevika to be closing in. What if I find him? Jinx thought to herself whilst taking pains to fill her pockets with enough fresh supplies to see her through another ugly scuffle. Safety first! 

If Scar was in there, it was good news! Jinx to the rescue! It made perfect sense. The idea was exciting. Fun. WAY more fun than blubbering and drawing Scarface next to a sea of dead guys. It wasn’t hard to slip away, not when just about everybody’s mind was a million miles away. 

The first part of the plan was easy. The streets were much quieter in the wake of everything. No Scar-shaped bodies were left bleeding out into the cobbled streets. Finding Priggs was easy too. The place was massive, after all, and not entirely unknown territory. Slipping into Priggs and digging around, eavesdropping and keeping an eye open for any familiar faces was also easy. The challenge came once Jinx had prized herself into the air vents. It was harder to listen in from here; harder to get your bearings and moving took more time and effort. The good thing was, the vent system seemed to lead to just about every room. The bad news? Priggs was huge. 

It took a long time of crawling and listening at vents to get a real heading. The mention of ‘visitors’ had seemed promising, until Jinx followed it to a Chem Baron meeting. Then she followed the voices out, took some turns in an order that felt right and paused to write her last will and testament on the inside of one of the vent panels before continuing. The whole journey was beginning to feel like a game of hide and seek that she was hours into losing until one very familiar voice sounded near the closest hatch in the vent system. Sevika. 

“How’s the guest?”

“Quiet.” Sevika’s oafish voice grunted.

Jinx strained in an effort to prize more words out of the unintelligible muttering. Nothing. But ‘guest’? That felt important. And the guest was going to be in one of the rooms in the opposite direction to where Sevika was going now. Jinx pressed forwards. After what felt like years, one of the dim holding rooms revealed the sight she was looking for. Crumpled and much smaller than Jinx remembered him, there was the unmistakable shape of Scar in a funny position on the floor. Jinx bit back a victorious squeal of excitement. 

Gotcha!

For a long moment, Jinx simply watched, fascinated by the poor state of her friend and his confinement. He was definitely alive…which was the most anyone could really ask for right now. Laying on her stomach, Jinx propped her head onto one hand, pursing her lips down to the very miserable lump that she now called a friend. 

For a moment, she considered the need to be discreet. Sound carried, after all, and compromising this good of a find wasn’t an option. So, what then? Jinx began trailing a finger absently against the grating at the mouth of the vent into the room. It only made a small noise, but maybe to a person in an empty room it would be enough to steal their attention. Jinx waited. Nope! Nothing. Okay fine. Screw being quiet. She’d tell a joke. Scar looked like he could use a good joke. Before Jinx could settle on one, her nose itched from the disrupted dust and with a half-caught breath, a sneeze sounded from the vent.

Ah well. May as well rip the baid-aid off now. Cat’s outta the bag!

“I knew I’d find you.” Unbridled pride swam in Jinx’s words. As Scar turned, Jinx grimaced at the sight of his face. Wow. Was this the right guy?

“You found me.”

“Uh. Yeah!” Jinx drawled, as though it were an obvious conclusion to the latest events. “Didya miss your old pal Jinx?”

[loubouskz]

I'm used to it

mafia!bang chan x vet!reader

description: you come home to see your best friend and roommate, felix, is not home yet. not unusual...til it hit 4am. your worries were answered when you heard banging coming from the front door. only open the door and have a lot change in a short amount of time.

warnings: mafia!skz, two gun fight scenes(one major & one minor), reader has and anxiety attack & passes out, wound & blood to one character, pet names(mainly sweeheart), smut, unprotected sex, oral(fem & male receiving), shower sex, out in the open during oral so slight exhibition, dirty talk

wc: 6,000+

a/n: i forgot i had this in my google docs. I finished writing this month's ago and remember thinking it wasn't that good. reading it back now, I think it's pretty good, plus it's the first fanfic that has 6,000 words. but this was my first time trying to write gun/mafia...those kind of things so it may not be so good in those areas.

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coming home to an empty apartment was a common occurrence due to lee felix, my best friend and roommate, having a busy schedule at work. I too, have a busy schedule that makes me come home from 11pm to 1am, depending on what’s happening. today I came home at 12am, exhausted from working with animals all day. but this time it was strange, he didn’t text me like he usually does so I don’t worry myself out. I just thought to myself, ‘he most likely just got caught up and forgot to text.’ it happens every now and then, but it was very rare. I changed out of my nurse clothes and put on my favorite hoodie and sweats. I grabbed a snack from the kitchen and watched a random movie that was on tv. 

by the time it was over with an empty bowl next to me, it was pitch black and almost 4am. I opened my phone, hoping to see a text from him. nothing. he’s never been out this late before. I quickly being to dial his number and brought it up to my ear. hearing it ring, over and over and over again, but no answer. “come on, lix. answer the phone.” I said, trying it again. still no answer. I got up from the couch and pacing back and forth. it’s not like him to just let the phone ring, he’ll either send it to voicemail or send an automatic message that he can’t talk right now..

I tried to call felix for a 3rd time, by now the clock was reading 4:23am. I would go to his work to check on him, but we share the car, since we live so close to where I work- so I walk. bang chan, the man who is a one mean workaholic. I’ve met him a few times, along with some of felix’s other co-workers. he has a cold exterior, but warms up to certain people, especially the boys that work for him. I just think his a dick, making all of them work such long godforsaken hours. a really good looking, attractive dick. him and I only got along because of felix making us. sometimes I wish I could just smack him.

I shook my head as I remembered I had his number. ‘for real emergencies only, do not call me to talk. okay sweetheart.’ I heard his voice ring in my head. I rolled my eyes and hesitantly clicked the call button, hoping he would answer. it went straight to voicemail. “what the fuck!” I said, trying not to yell too loudly as the walls of my apartment are VERY thin. I tried felix once more, before going to my room. still no answer. I let out a frustrated sigh, trying to calm myself down. maybe I could walk to his job. yeah right, its on the other side of the fucking town. that would take all day to get there. I sat on my bed and tried to call felix for the nth time, but pounding from the front door stopped me. I shot up and ran to the door, hoping it when felix.

I opened the door to a horror scene you’d see in the movies. there was felix, looking half dead, bleeding from his side with his arm slung around chan, who was covered in blood as well but seemed fine. chan had a sheer look of pain on his face as he pushed his way through me into my apartment. I backed up, not saying anything out of pure shock.

“close the goddamn door, y/n!” chan yelled as he headed to felix’s bedroom. I jumped at his voice and closed the door quickly. I ran to them and stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, watching chan remove felix’s bedsheets then felix’s shirt. chan laid felix on the bed and turned to me. “don’t you have a med kit here, go get it.” chan demanded. I went to the bathroom closet and pulled out the med kit and ran back to chan. I entered the room and went over to felix, seeing the nasty open wound up close. “what happened to him?” I asked, looking at chan. 

“not the time! just patch him up fast, we have to go!" chan said, pulling out a gun from his waistband. my eyes widened, flicking back and forth from him and the gun. “chris, he needs a doctor!” I said, raising my voice at him as he tried to leave the room. he stopped in the doorway, gave me a death look for saying his other name. "do not call me that right now y/n, I’m serious. you know how to stitch right?" he said all in a hushed voice. "yeah! on animals, i'm a vet!" I said back at him.

"just hurry, stitch and patch him up! we don't have much time right now!" chan said as he exited the room. I looked down at felix and pushed his hair out of his face. “lix, did he do this to you?” i asked quietly. he shook his head, “no, he didn’t. I promise. but right now, just listen to what he says okay?” he said weakly. I nodded my head as I opened the med kit and grabbing the gloves to put on. hopefully it won’t be to much different stitching up, I prayed. I began to work on felix as quickly and carefully as I could. “I’m gonna be okay y/n. it won’t be the first time.” felix laughed out, before coughing at bit. “shh, just stay silent for now lix.” I said, looking into his eyes for a brief moment. 

chan entered the door again along with someone new, who also had a gun in his hand. “you almost done?” chan asked, coming up behind me. I nodded my head, not wanting to stop what I was doing. the new guy ran out of the room before quickly coming back. “chan, they can’t hold them off any longer. we have to go.” the guy said as I placed the patch on felix’s now closed up wound. I taped it down and sat back once I was done. “I’m finished.” I said, looking up at chan. chan looked over at the guy, “get him and take him to the car.” he said. the guy came over and picked felix up and quickly left the room. 

chan was about to leave but noticed I was still sat on the floor. he grabbed my arm and pulled me with him. “come on. we gotta go, sweetheart.” he said as we rushed to the front door. he let go of my arm so I could slip back on my shoes. he opened the door and looked carefully outside and before exiting the apartment with the gun in his hands. he nodded his head for me to follow him. we went out the back staircase and down the back alley. “where are we going?” I asked, he didn’t answer me.

we were about to exit the alleyway, but as chan peeped around the corner and gunshot went off, making him jump back into me. I jumped and covered my ears with my eyes fully shut. oh, this has got to be a nightmare as I heard multiple shots start going off. I felt an arm go around my waist and pull me into them. “stay close to me.” chan whispered in my ear as he sandwiched me against the wall. wake up y/n, its all a bad dream. a very real dream. I felt my tears forming as I opened my eyes. chan carefully peeked his head out and shot his gun at whoever was shooting at us. he pulled back and looked at me, his hard stare softened as he noticed the state I was in.

“hey, you’re gonna be okay. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” he said softly. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. “please get me out of here, I feel light-headed, gonna pass out.” I whispered as I felt numbness course through my body. “stay with me, y/n.” he said, as he held my body weight. “guys where are you?” chan asked into the air. I heard a slight voice coming over something, that’s when I noticed the ear piece. another round of shots started as a screeching sound of vehicle came to a stop. chan leaned out and shot a few more times, “come on, I got them!” I heard someone say, along with shots being fired. chan pulled back and looked at me, giving me a nod. like I knew what it meant. “we’re gonna run to the car, okay sweetheart.” he said, I nodded my head the best I could.

chan pulled us away from the wall, he moved me to the right side of him. I looked straight out and saw a big black van with a side door open, with one person out shooting and another holding out his hand. “ready?” chan said, still holding me by the waist. I nodded, wanting this to all be over. don’t pass out yet y/n, get to the van first. I watched as the guy waved their hand to come on and thats when we went. “duck!” chan called out as we ran out. it felt like time went in slow motion. bullets flying everywhere, I could barely hear. I felt chan pick me up slightly and throw me in the van. I fell on the floor of the van and stayed there, not moving, not because I wanted to but because I couldn’t. I felt my mind fog up and numbness, the last thing I remember was chan looking at me before he hopped in the van.

I woke up in a room I’d never seen before. I sat up carefully, not wanting to get light-headed again. the sun was fully out now, but I couldn’t tell what time it was. maybe it was all just a bad dream and I woke up from a one night stand, I said trying to convince myself. that was short lived as chan walked into the room. “oh you’re up.” he said, holding a glass of water and a plate of food. I didn’t say anything and just stared at him. chan sighed and looked down before making his way over to me. he sat the stuff on the end table, “this is for you, minho made it. you may or may not remember him, but you met him before.” he said, sitting on the side of the bed. he turned his head to me, “how you feelin’?” he asked. I didn’t give him an answer. “okay, what do you want to know?” he asked, looking at the ground. I scooted up so my back would be against the bed frame. “all that happened last night was real.” I stated, making chan nod. “what happened? why did it happen? why did everyone have guns? I thought everyone was working? why was there a shootout at my apartment?” I asked, all the questions that flooded my brain.

chan straightened his back a bit before answering. “well to start off, everything I’m about to tell you is true. not a joke, alright?” he said. “okay.” I answered, bringing my legs to my chest, “we were working. it went bad and felix got hurt. we are in an organization called stray kids, I know you’ve heard that name before and what it’s about.” chan said, looking at the wall, his eyes dancing along the frame of the paintings in the room. he’s right, almost every other week the news had something to say about them for the last couple of years. one word kept ringing through my head. mafia. they were apart of it. my best friend felix is apart of the mafia. I could feel the air leave my lungs. “we were in a meeting but it was all a ruse, they were planing on killing us. we got split up, felix got hurt and seungmin, our med guy, wasn’t with us. I was in a panic and thought of the next person I could go to, which was you.” he said. chan turned back to me, “which was so sutpid of me because now I put you in this dangerous world that me and the boys live in.” I didn’t know what to say, it was all so overwhelming. chan stood up and fully turned to me. “what do I do?” I asked, looking straight into his eyes. he sighed once more, “we have to stay here for a bit, till its safe enough for you to go back to work.” he answered, “you’ll be safe here in this house. I promised I’d keep you safe, right?” he said. I nodded at his question. “and that’s what I intend to do. now eat before your food gets to cold.” chan said before leaving the room.

I grabbed the water and chugged half of it down. I stared at the food before grabbing it. god, how long we will have to stay here, I wondered.

two months go by. a very long two months. the boys doing the busy work that they do. with nothing for me to do, I clean and help cook food, though they have stated over a hundred times that I don’t have to. “well, it helps past time.” I told hyunjin once. it started to feel like home almost, in a strange way. hanging out all together somewhere. playing games or laughing at funny stories of childhood. 

today, most of the boys were out of the house. only felix, jeongin, chan and I were ‘home’. we were all in the living room but jeongin- probably in the bathroom or something. having a normal conversation about old memories. we had gotten to the topic of crushes and dating. I had brought up to chan that felix had a crush on one of our teachers growing up, making chan laugh.

“I mean he was pretty hot though!” felix said, making me push his shoulder. “felix, remember your talking about our 9th grade history teacher!” I said with a shocked face. “okay and..” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve never made sense of why some students had crushes on their teachers.” chan said, sipping the drink he had in his hand. “thank you!” I said, looking at him. I turned back to felix, giving him a look. “well at least I’ve actually dated people and not pretend that my giant stuff animal was the love of my life.” felix said with a smirk. “you fucking bitch, you said you’d never say that in front of people.” I said, swatting him on the back of the head. “at least I don’t have a crush on lil’ binnie.” I said, mocking felix who jaw dropped to the floor. “how the fuck do you know that?” he asked. “please, it so fucking obvious. following him around, cuddle up next to him, always being the first to help- even when he doesn’t need it.” I said. “yeah, it really is, felix.” chan stated with a big grin.

“ya know, to be honest when I first hung out with you two I thought you were dating.” chan said, making us look at him with wide mouths. I turned my head back to felix and we both started laughing. “I would never date her, I like guys more than girls. I wouldn’t even kiss her to save earth.” felix said, almost falling off the couch. I couldn’t even say anything because I was laughing so hard. “what don’t like guys, y/n?” chan asked. “no, she does. just doesn’t talk to people enough to date them.” felix said, wiping away his tears.

“yeah, most of the guys I’ve talked to, were just huge dicks so. eh.” I said, looking back at chan once I had calmed down enough. he raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “what chris?” I asked. he made a face and shook his head. “nothing.” he said. “oh what about you. who were your old crushes? have you even dated anyone mr. workaholic?” I sassed. chan narrowed his eyes at me as felix oo’ed at us. “she got you there chan.” felix said, chan looked at him to make him shut up. felix got up, “I’m just gonna go hang out with jeongin if I can find him. have fun.” felix said, winking at chan. felix knows something is up, that only him and chan knew. we watched as he left the room as the silence got loud. 

“to answer your question. of course I’ve had crushes, only dated once back in school.” chan said. “aw, that’s cute.” I said, putting my hand up to my chin. “you can stop with the attitude.” chan said, sitting up as he placed his arms on his knees. “and what if I don’t, what will you do chris?” I challenged, making him laugh. “you don’t want to know.” he said. the air in the room thickened as we had a stare off. “sounds like a pussy move to me.” I said, giving him a smile before standing up. I tried to leave to the room to go calm myself down. it felt so hot because of him.

“and where do you think you’re going?” he said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his chest, which to my surprise he was standing now. he towered of me with a mean glint behind his eyes. I felt butterflies dance in my stomach. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “what? cat got your tongue sweetheart?” he asked as his other hand went on my back. “no, I can talk just fine.” I said, trying to push him away but failed. he chuckled and swayed us side to side, making my face feel warm. “you know, there is a reason why I let you call me by my other name.” chan said. yeah, he always got onto the boys for saying chris, but never towards me and I’ve always wondered why. I tilted my head to the side as he looked me. “and what’s the reason?” I asked, making him smirk and look away. 

“what were you, me, and felix just talking about?” chan asked as he placed his hands on my waist. “about our crushes. and you still haven’t talked about yours sir.” I said, poking him the chest. he laughed once more with his head back, showing off those cute dimple of his. once he was done, he just looked at me. “because I’m already talking to her.” he said, scanning my face. I froze with a shocked look on my face, jaw dropped and wide eyes. “you like me?” I asked, to which he simply nodded to. “why? I didn’t think my body type was something you like.” I said, looking down that my thick thighs and tummy fat. “I don’t care about you weight, I just like you. why does anybody like anybody? but I’ve liked you since I’ve gotten to know you, especially since we’ve been here.” chan said, bringing his hand up to my cheek. somewhat I leaned into his touch and smiled. “well good thing I like you too.” I said, making him smile even more. he leaned in but stopped halfway. “can I kiss you?” he asked. “please do.” I said.

then his lips were on mine, instantly making me feel twists in my stomach. I could taste the bitterness of his drink on his lips- which had cracks but still were super soft. I pushed my hands to his neck and gripped his hair. chan moaned into my mouth at the feeling, pulling me as close to him as he could. I felt his tongue on my bottom lip, wanting to get in my mouth. when I didn’t let him, his hands slid down to my ass and gave it a firm squeeze. I gasped, making his tongue enter between my lips. his tongue exploring everywhere it could, while fighting my tongue for dominance. he pulled away, kissing the side of on left jaw, down to my neck.

“god, I’ve wanted to touch and taste you for so long now.” chan groaned out, sucking and biting harshly at my neck. “chris.” I moaned out quietly, bringing one hand down back to his chest to grip his shirt. he slowly brought his hands up, dragging my shirt with it. I shivered as his cold hands touched my warm back. he kissed my collarbone before bringing his now red lips back to mine. he pulled away and made eye contact with blown out eyes filled with lust. I leaned into his neck and started doing the same thing he did to me. “shit.” he said as he brought one hand to the back of my head. 

after feeling up each other, I trailed my kisses back up to his lips. “I want you. so bad.” he said into the kiss. “have me then.” I whispered. he instantly grabbed the back of my thighs and laid me down on the couch. he hooked his fingers under my shirt and pushed my shirt above of boobs. he moaned, kissing down my chest to the hem on my pants. he quickly unbuttoned them and started to slowly pulled them down, along with my underwear. once they were off, he brought his hand to my core. rubbing firm slow circles around my clit, before dragging one finger down to my entrance. he pushed a finger into me, watching my reaction to make sure I liked it, slowly leaning his head down.

“please don’t go so slow, chris.” I said, pushing my hand through his hair and slightly pulling at it. he chuckled as his lips came in contact with my clit, while thrusting a second finger into me. I moaned as he picked up the pace, feeling him curl his fingers. I clenched around his fingers every time he brought his tongue to my clit. “fuck channie.” I moaned out. chan quickly gently slapped my inner thigh with his free hand, making it jiggle. “I only want to hear chris come out of your pretty lips, got it.” he said as he curled his fingers, finally finding my g-spot. “yes chris. fuck!” I moaned out loud as I gripped the side of the couch tightly, he smirked and continued his work on my body.

“I want you to cum for me sweetheart.” he said, leaving love bites on my inner thighs. I arched my back, feeling the pressure of my high getting closer and closer. “harder chris.” I said, pulling his head back to my clit. he laughed as he licked my clit again. I groaned as he put more pressure into his thrusts, keeping it at the same speed. “come on babygirl, I know you want to cum so bad. cum for me baby.” he said, dragging his tongue around my clit. i felt the knot brust hard and my mind go fuzzy as I chanted his name like a song. he slowly pulled his fingers out and pushed his tongue into me, making me clamp my big thighs around his head. chan just continued, lapping up all my juices as he hands came to my thighs to hold and caress them. “god, I love your cunt.” he said in a deep aussie accent. I whined as he licked up to my clit. 

he climbed over me and kissed me again, making me taste myself. “do you think you can handle more?” he asked, as he held my hand that was close to him. I nodded, leaning up to kiss him even more. I knew I was never going to get enough of him. 

he pulled away to pull off his shirt but was interrupted by his phone ringing in his back pocket. “shit.” he said, sitting up and pulling out his phone. he answered the call and watched his face turn cold fast. chan stood up and walked to the other side of the room so I wouldn’t hear the call. I sat up and watched him. either the boys who were out got into some trouble or something really bad happened…or about to happen. “okay.” chan said, before quickly ending the call. “get your pants on, go to my room, and do not leave unless me or one of the boys come get you.” chan said, pointing to me before going to the base of the stairs calling out to jeongin and felix. 

I got up and pulled my pants back up around my legs. 

“what’s going on?” felix asked as they ran down the stairs. I stood beside the three of them. “the rest were on their way back and noticed a car following them too late. they’ll be here in 2 minutes.” chan said, as they walked to the door. jeongin ran to the meeting room and grabbed the three of them guns. as I started up the stairs, I turned around. “what if something happens to me if I alone in the house?” I called out. chan had already opened the front door and was about to walk out. “go, I’ll be out there shortly.” he told the boys. chan jogged back to me as I started up the stairs again. 

we entered his room, I stopped in the center of the room as he went to his dresser. he bent down and opened the bottom drawer. “come here.” he said as he pulled out two items. I walked over to him, watched as he showed me both. a knife and a gun. “keep both on you, you can use either one.” he said, putting the knife with its sheath on my body first. once it was clipped, he showed me the gun. “it should have three bullets in it, the safety is on.” he said, explaining quickly to me how to use it properly. “hopefully you won’t have to use either.” he said, standing up and handing me the gun. chan kissed my lips before leaving the room. “lock the door behind me and remember do not let anyone in unless it me or the boys.” he said as he closed the door. I ran over and locked th door and turned around to look at his room. then I heard the first round of shot go. I slid down the door and sighed, it’s going be a long late afternoon.

and I was right about my words. the sun was already fully down by the time the other gang had backed off. I stood up when the shooting had stopped and placed the gun and blade on the dresser. I walked over to chan’s bed and sat down. waiting for the boys to come in. I heard the door slam closed and chan’s loud voice letting them what to do. 

“lee know. changbin. take him downstairs. everyone else check the area, keep sure their gone. once that is done, y’all can get cleaned up and do whatever.” I heard him say as he voiced got louder. I stood up and walked over to the door as chan knocked on the door. he entered the room and quickly started removing his shirt, throwing it in the corner.

“you okay?” I asked, watching him closely. he unbutton his pants, sliding them down his legs. “yeah, I’m fine,” he said, turning to me. I’m sure he could see the blush on my cheeks as I tried to look away so I won’t stare at him or his dick print. he walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me. bringing his face close to the right side of my face. “join me in the shower?” he asked right in my ear, smirking as he felt me shiver. I nodded as he squeezed my hips. he grabbed my hands and brought me along with him to the bathroom that was in his room.

the shower was running, fog surrounding the closed off room. we weren’t in the shower yet. chan has lifted me up and placed me on the counter, lips meeting mine. he hands going under my shirt, groaning at how soft my skin felt. the room just making us feel even hotter and more needy for each other. chan quickly pulled my shirt over my head, kissing down my chest. he tapped on my thighs, “lift your hips baby.” he said, wanting to pull off my pants and underwear. I grabbed the back of his neck and brought his lips back to mine.

I used my other hand to lightly scratch down his chest. down to his crotch, grabbing it firmly. “fuck baby. get on your knees, I want you to suck me off.” he said, pulling down his underwear. I hopped off the counter and sat right in front of his already half-hard cock. I would say he was a little above average in length and slender. I felt myself clench as I took him in my hand. he groaned as he threw his head back. I took him in my mouth, using as far as I could go. I hollowed out my cheeks as I bobbed my head, swirling my tongue each time I pulled back. “shit, who taught you to suck dick like a slut?” he asked, grabbing my hair. I moaned around him as he guided my head faster on his cock a few times before pulling me off.

he held out his hand and helped me off the ground. once I was standing with him, I turned around so he could take off my bra. his hands, slowly went up my hips. to my waist. my back straightened up as I felt his fingers. up and up before taking his time unhooking my bra. he kissed my shoulder before looking at me through the mirror. “let’s get in the shower babygirl.” he said.

I sighed as I felt the warm water hit my skin, feeling relaxed already. chan turned me to face him and leaned down to kiss me. “I need you.” he said, lips never leaving mine. I putting my arms around his neck as he lifted me up and pressed me to the cold shower wall. shivers went down my back. “put me down you’re going to hurt yourself trying to hold me.” I said as I wrapped my thighs around his hips. “no, I want you to take my cock like this.” he said, taking hold of his cock and pushing inside me.

we both moan at the feeling. “I know you can take my cock like a big girl.” chan groaned out and he started thrusting his hips ups. “oh chris!” I moaned out. the sound of skin slapping together, slicened by the water. chan groaned in my ear, kissing my neck. I leaned my head back, loving the feeling of how his cock was hitting deep inside me. 

“fuck, you’re so tight around me.” he said, moving my body up and down to meet his thrusts. I cried out as I felt my high approaching. “talk to me baby, how good am I making you feel?” he asked, bringing his head to mine. I opened my eyes, that I didn’t know were closed until I met his. “you’re making me feel s’good chris. I love how deep you are. god, I’m gonna cum!” I said, clawing it his back. he hissed the the feeling, bringing his hand down to my clit. “be a good girl for me a cum.” he said. I felt my orgasm rip my body, he held on to me tightly as my legs unraveled. 

he thrusted a few more times, before taking me off him and placing my feet on the ground. with an arm around my waist, he jerked himself off. cumming over my stomach and thighs. “shit.” he moaned. I leaned up and kissed him again, wanting to feel his lips. i pulled away a little bit, lips hovering of his. 

“does this mean I stay here? with you and the boys? because I wouldn’t mind helping seungmin, being his assistant.” I said, he laughed. “you’re stuck with us baby.” he said with a smirk, kissing my lips once more. “I’m already used to it.” I mumbled, racking my hands up his chest.

“okay let’s hurry and get cleaned up.” chan whispered, as he felt the water turning cold.

after the shower, we took our time getting dressed. chan threw on a shirt and some sweats. I slipped on a shirt of his and a [aor of leggings. “let’s head downstairs.” chan said, walking to the door. I followed him out the door and made our way downstairs. all the boys were sitting around, watching a disney movie with a few of them holding beers in their hands. “oh wow, manly men watching a very manly movie.” I said, sitting next to felix. “yes, moana is a very manly disney movie y/n.” jisung said, rolling his eyes as everyone laughed. “where’s minho?” chan asked, looking around the room. “he’s making dinner.” seungmin said, pointing to the kitchen. “alright.” chan said as he made his way to sit next to jeongin. 

felix leaned close to me and in a hushed voice, “so how’d it go?” felix asked. “how did what go lix?” I asked. “did chan not tell you?” felix asked, looking at chan then back to me. I wanted to laugh, but kept it in. “tell me what?” I said, tilting my head at him. “guys shush, my favorite song is coming on!” hyunjin whined as the song started to play. I glanced at chan, who was already looking at me and smiled before looking at the tv. tamatoa was singing shiny. I leaned back and enjoyed the rest of the movie.

“dinner is ready.” minho called out from the kitchen as the movie was ending. the boys cheered as we all got up and headed towards to delicious smelling food. “I’m so hungry.” jeongin said. the boys agreeing and being loud. chan waited for them to walk past and waited for me to catch up. chan gave me a wink then continued to walk the kitchen with me by his side. half the boys already sat down and quickly making plates. felix glanced at us before looking back at the food. he paused and snapped his head back to us and smiled brightly. “chan got something to tell us!” felix said, basically jumping in his seat. I made my way to an open chair and sat down with blush on my cheeks. everyone’s heads turned towards chan as he just laughed and shook his head. chan sat down next to changbin across the table and a few seats down from where I was.

dinner was passing with ease. drinking, eating, laughing. chan and I shared several looks to each other. “something’s going on between y/n and chan.” jeongin said out of no where and everyone stop what they were doing and look at the both of us. “I knew something happened!” felix said, putting down his chopsticks. “and why do you say that jeongin?” chan asked, not lifting his head from his  food but eyes staring at jeongin. “because I saw you two in the living room. I came down to grab a bottle of water and saw something…happening.” jeongin said with a big smirk. my and everyone’s jaws dropped, but felix who jumped up from his seat. “you finally said your feeling to her!” he said excitedly. “alright, yes I did. now hush.” chan said, leaning back in his seat. “wow, chan’s got a girl now, didn’t think he would get one first.” hyunjin said. “congrats old man.” seungmin said, making everyone laugh. “okay I’m done with dinner.” chan said with a big smile. chan got up and started walking away. he stopped at the door and turned back to everyone and locked eyes with me. “you coming sweetheart?” chan asked. “yeah I am.” I answered, standing up and meeting him at the door. chan leaned down and kissed my lips, making the boys go wild again as we walked away laughing.

yeah, I’m already used to it.

[mateidontevenknow]

ONESHOT ALERT

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Ship: Klaus x Damon

Soft Spot

Damon had been in a relationship with Klaus for a while now, but there was one thing he still wasn't used to; Klaus' obsessive need to touch him in some way.

It starts with an innocent hand holding his, then an arm sliding around his waist and suddenly Damon has found himself in an unrelenting hug. Klaus will not let go until he is satisfied.

Damon sometimes falls into these traps.

-

Klaus was exhausted, collapsed onto the couch and dying inside at the sheer stupidity of certain individuals. Damon thought he'd be thoughtful and drape his favorite blanket over the poor Hybrid, but it immediately backfired.

Klaus waited before striking, like a true predator. Damon leaned down to carefully wrap the blanket around Klaus. In his moment of vulnerablity, Klaus grabbed the vampire around the waist and pulled him onto his chest. Klaus wrapped his leg around Damon’s, effectively trapping him. Damon squirmed before immediately voicing his displeasure.

"No, not this again. I have work to do. Please..."

"Please what?"

Please let me go, I beg you."

"As much as I love to hear you beg, I adore this a little bit more."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, besides lately you haven't been sleeping enough so I'm not letting go until you’ve been asleep for at least a few hours."

Damon sighed and lay his head down against Klaus' chest, listening to his heartbeat. He did end up falling asleep. It was the best sleep he'd ever gotten and he hated that. Klaus' plan actually worked. Damn him.

-

Damon stood in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge. He had a very important decision to make. He was hungry but he couldn’t decide between O Negative and B Positive. He only knew what Caroline would pick.

Then he felt hands on his hips. One of them moved to wrap around his waist. Then he felt a body leaning against his back. A head found its way to his neck, where it settled. The hand fled from his hip, instead finding itself in his hair, running its fingers through his raven locks.

Damon sank his head back at the sensation. Klaus knew exactly how much he loved it. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Hello, love."

Klaus muttered the greeting before latching onto Damon’s neck, covering the pale skin in hickeys and love-bites. Damon moaned quietly as his eyes shut.

"You can't keep doing this. I have to do stuff, you know?"

"No you don't, besides we both know you enjoy it."

"Fine."

Klaus carefully picked Damon up, before putting him down on the sofa and watching as Damon stretched out his arms for a hug. Klaus grinned before flopping down onto Damon.

"I'm still hungry."

"Too bad, because you're stuck now. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. I know I will."

-

Damon was trying to shop in peace but his plans were immediately obliterated by Klaus, who just had to go with.

Damon strutted through the mall at an impressive pace, Klaus following behind, looking at the people around them. They all seemed so normal, it was unsettling. He caught up to Damon just in time to see a man across the room, gazing at Damon with hungry eyes and a smirk on his face.

Klaus wrapped an arm around Damon, walking in sync with Damon’s steps. Damon rolled his eyes at Klaus' possessiveness.

"I know I'm yours, you don't have to remind me."

"I'm not trying to remind you."

"Oh so you're just trying to prove it to someone who is completely irrelevant to us and our relationship."

"That's one way to put it."

"Ok, around Elena I understand but a random human in a Chicago shopping mall, seriously?"

"Leave me be, it's in my nature. Wolves are extremely territorial."

"Fine, but I want you to know you're being stupid."

-

Damon was panicking. Elena had just kissed him and he was absolutely disgusted. While dating Stefan, Elena had kissed him. He pushed her away as fast as he could and stood stunned before getting a few words out.

"Elena, no! You are dating my brother!"

"But Damon, I thought you wanted this."

"No, when I said I was dating someone, I was serious."

"What? Who?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that he and I are in a happy relationship, that you do not get to intrude on."

"He?? You're gay?"

"No, I'm pansexual, now out, out of my room."

"Wait Damon-"

Then a new voice could be heard.

"Come on, you heard the man."

Damon turned around to face the door with a small smile on his face. His suspicions were confirmed as he saw a certain hybrid's frame in the doorway.

"Hey, Klaus, I'm sorry, but I really didn't mean to."

Elena’s reaction was less tame.

"Klaus?! What do you want?"

Klaus walked briskly towards Damon before slinging an arm over his shoulders.

"Damon, Damon get away from him."

"Elena, calm down, he came because I asked him to."

"You invited him here, after he tried to kill me?"

"Yes, because the world doesn't revolve around you. I can hang out with my boyfriend when and wherever I want."

At this point Klaus had Damon wrapped in a side hug, while still glaring at Elena. Klaus kissed Damon’s cheek in confirmation.

Elena huffed before storming out of the room. Klaus broke the following silence quite viciously.

"I was hoping she'd cry, but unfortunately, no such luck."

Damon gave a grin at that.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Ember Burning (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Creative Contributor: @baebae-goodnight​ for this MOODBOARD WOO!

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Fantasy / Dragon / Enemies to Lovers

Synopsis:  The dragon riders of Duret Ghal are known across the continent; fierce warriors who take to the skies on their leashed, winged beasts. You are the last Dragon Queen of Ashya, ruler of a dying species who can transform from human to Dragon at will. When a new foe emerges which threatens both Dragon and rider alike, you find yourself forced to broker peace with your former enemy. The King of Duret Ghal, and a dragon rider himself: Jeon Jungkook.

NSFW Warnings: oral (male and female), nipple play, fingering, multiple orgasms, big cock, dirty talk, hair pulling (her to him).... tattooed, man-bun jungkook who has a big sword

Trigger Warnings: somewhat graphic depiction of a shoulder injury  

Word Count: 36,079

Soaring through azure-colored sky, golden wheat fields spread out below, you could almost convince yourself duty did not exist. It was easy to pretend while disconnected from the ground – flight broke the strings which bound you to all mortal beings. You ceased to be of flesh and bone and instead became one with the air, the wind, and the wildness of flame in your throat.

The Thadal mountain range loomed ahead, its jagged peaks piercing the sky. Idly, you wondered if they truly did. Legends said Natal, who had created the world and everything in it, formed the Thadal range last of all. Exhausted by the sheer effort of creation, her hand had slipped, causing the tallest of peaks to rise higher than planned. This ripped a hole in the veil which guarded this world from the next and before Natal could fix it, magic slipped through.

It had been the dragons who slumbered in the mountains’ highest peaks who received this blessing.

Dipping a wing, you wheeled about in the air. With the sun at your back, you surveyed the splendor of your realm laid beneath you.

Ashya, land of the Dragons – of which you were Queen.

Stifling the sigh which rose at the thought, you turned from the furthest rim of the world and began the flight home. A return to duty, to obligation and to your human form, as well as the conflict which loomed on the horizon. Not to mention the sleeping King within your castle walls.

Each of these weighed upon your shoulders, replacing the freedom you’d felt in the air. As you shifted to human, donned a gown, and entered the castle, the sun had barely risen above the lip of the world.

And your true day was only beginning.

From the thunderous expression on Park Jimin’s face, it was clear you needed to do something, and quickly.

Your choices were either to interject and stop a second war from breaking out at your table or sit back and watch while King Jungkook was pummeled into the ground by the esteemed commander of your armed forces.

Admittedly, the second option was tempting. You would so dearly love to watch the crown knocked from King Jungkook’s perfect tresses, but pettiness was unbecoming when far greater evil lurked on the horizon.

With a wave of your hand, you signaled Jimin to sit back.

The remark which had so enflamed your commander came from one of Jungkook’s advisors, a Lord Kim Seokjin you’d only met once prior. He had insinuated, in so many words, the power of your kind was nothing more than a parlor trick. Something to be taken out at parties, but incapable of truly defending your realm.

Jimin’s steely gaze remained fixed on the Lord, a thin line of steam rising from the seat where he sat. It was never wise to anger a Dragon, especially not a renowned fighter like Jimin. There was a reason he’d been named the youngest commander in over a century, and it was only partly because your people had dwindled in size since the last Dragon War.

The Dragon Wars were the reason it was truly remarkable for you to sit in the same room as King Jeon Jungkook at all. Only a hundred years had passed – barely a blink, in the grand scheme of things – since your nations had been labeled bitter enemies.

Duret Ghal, Jeon Jungkook’s nation, was home to the fierce dragon riders. Warriors who tamed the dull, vicious beasts of the mountains and rode them into battle. Their riders were human, although they fancied themselves important because they dared to treat dragons – albeit a less intelligent kind than your own – as glorified steeds.

You, on the other hand, were a Dragon.

Not one like what King Jungkook rode into battle. Duret Ghal bonded with dragons, mere animals ungifted by magic and unable to transform into humans. You were a Dragon, descended from the first magical beings blessed by the veil. Those who had shifted to the flesh of their enemy to defeat humans on their own terms.

At will, you could shift from human to Dragon with barely a thought. Beneath your smooth, human exterior lurked the scales of a dragon, and Lord Seokjin would do well to remember this while he sat at your table.

Tilting your head, you looked his way. “Would you care to repeat yourself, Lord Seokjin? The way you phrased your objection just now made it sound as though you were doubting my people.”

Although Lord Seokjin hesitated, he met your gaze. This surprised you. Few humans had the courage to look a grown Dragon in the eyes. You were well-aware of the rumors which plagued your people.

Some insisted Dragons held power beyond that of humans. This was untrue, of course. Aside from their shifting, Dragons could not use magic. It was only the offspring of a Dragon and human who could wield magic, often called gifts.

Then there was the rumor Dragons retained scales in places best left unmentioned when they transformed into humans – also untrue. Once you became human, you were nearly indistinguishable from your more stagnant counterparts. The main differences were your skin, which ran hotter, the occasional steam from your lips and hidden embers which flickered in the depths of your gaze.

Your unusual eyes were likely the source of the third rumor. Looking a grown Dragon in the eyes would result in paralysis, or worse. This was also untrue, although you liked to encourage it all the same.

It made meeting human dignitaries much more amusing.

“I am not saying Dragons are not fierce,” Seokjin said, backtracking a little. “Merely observing your numbers have diminished since the last Dragon War. Without Duret Ghal’s riders, you would be at a disadvantage against the Mor Empire.”

To this, you had no response because Lord Seokjin was right. He had easily identified your current problem – Mor continued to press upon your southern border, and there were not enough Dragons left in Ashya to defend it much longer.

To your right, Jimin scowled, knowing the truth to this as well.

It was the main reason you’d decided to meet with King Jungkook at all. The reason you considered entering an alliance with a country who’d once been considered your enemy. The Empire of Mor, a nation of humans, had recently decided to rid themselves of all dragons.

This declaration placed both your nation, Ashya, and Jungkook’s at risk.

Ashya, since you were Dragons and Duret Ghal because they rode them. The Mor Empire was led by Emperor Cyan, whose quest for dominance had consumed him since he was a child. His Empire had already gobbled up the quiet Kingdom of Mica to the west and Kindare, to the south. Now he’d set his eyes on the northern wilds.

His largest obstacle to this was the dragons. Few human soldiers could keep from shitting their pants when a great, winged beast breathing fire rose above their ranks. Ironically enough, the sole reason the Mor Empire stood a chance was because the number of Dragons had greatly diminished over the centuries.

There were two main reasons for this.

The first were the Dragon Wars – centuries of bloody conflict between Ashya and Duret Ghal. During this period, dragon riders had fought Dragons for control of the northern border. The wars had caused untold damage on both sides until a truce had been called to save you from destruction.

The second reason for your diminishing numbers were the humans themselves. In order for a true Dragon to be born, two Dragons needed to mate and continue to bloodline. When a Dragon mated with a human, the resulting child was human. Occasionally, this child was blessed with a magical gift, but not always – and they could not shift into Dragon form. Over the years, your kind had mingled with humans until there were few Dragons left.

Hence the need to align yourself with your greatest foe to protect both your people and his. You needed numbers, which Jungkook had. Emperor Cyan had declared war against all northern realms. Only the might of riders and Dragons together stood a chance against him.

It was a mission of fools though, made even more evident by the blatant ill-will around the table. Releasing a sigh, you glanced to where your most trusted advisor, Min Yoongi, was seated on your right.

Min Yoongi was not a Dragon, but a human born with a gift. He could read the emotions of those in the room and determine whether they told the truth. It was magic he’d inherited from his Dragon mother and had come in handy many times during the negotiations.

Subtle, Yoongi nodded.

You managed to stop a second sigh from escaping. It seemed Lord Seokjin was telling the truth. He truly did respect the Dragons, which made his second statement all the more troubling. It would have been easier had he hated you.

“We may be at a disadvantage without Duret Ghal,” you admitted. “But you are equally disadvantaged without Ashya. If our realm were to fall, Mor would come for you next.”

“We could have this same argument for hours, Your Majesty,” Jungkook drawled, speaking up for the first time. “And we have. I grow tired of this stalemate. What are the terms you require to sign the treaty?”

Jaw tight, your gaze shifted to the King seated opposite. Jungkook stared back at you, his gaze dark and lidded in the flickering light of the fire.

Jeon Jungkook was a young ruler, like yourself, but while your transition of power had been relatively peaceful, his had been anything but.

The former King and Queen of Duret Ghal had been slain by his Uncle, Lord Vonner, when Jungkook was only eighteen. Duret Ghal had been close to signing a treaty with Ashya at the time. In said treaty, your hand in marriage had been promised to Jungkook in exchange for unified lands.

Obviously, opposition had existed on both sides of the treaty, but things had not turned violent until Lord Vonner. He’d risen against his sister and brother-in-law, killing them both in their sleep and claiming the throne. At the same time, he had sent assassins to your land and attempted to kill your parents.

He’d only succeeded in killing your mother.

The blood of Lord Vonner’s actions had ended your betrothal, throwing your lands into chaos while your father roared his revenge. It was only once Jungkook had usurped and executed his Uncle that your land had tentatively agreed not to retaliate in force.

This had taken place nearly ten years ago, and still Jungkook was not yet thirty years of age. His youthfulness was apparent everywhere but his eyes. These had been hardened, darkened by all he had seen and done.

Looking at him now, it was difficult to place the boy you had once known.

“Use of your ports,” you answered. “Free travel for Ashyan merchants along the roads to said ports, and then usage without the current fees.”

Lord Seokjin chuckled. “You must be mad.”

A low growl left Jimin’s throat – a warning. “How ironic to hear you speak of sanity, Lord Seokjin,” he said. “When you dare to insult the Queen of Ashya within her castle walls.”

Holding up at hand, you bade Jimin to cease.

Jimin was even younger than you were, and twice as hot-headed. Admittedly, he had good reason to despise Duret Ghal. His father had been killed in a skirmish on the northern border when he was barely twelve. There was a subset of Ghalians who despised the humans who dared to love Dragons. When a Ghalian woman had fled, seeking the protection of Ashya at the northern border, a mob had fought your soldiers and Jimin’s father had died.

Still, Jimin needed to remember you had a job to do. As your commander, he was well-aware of the weakened state of your armed forces. The treaty between Ashya and Duret Ghal needed to happen in whatever way possible.

Ignoring the interaction, Jungkook merely raised a brow. “No fees?”

Although his voice remained calm, a hint of steel lay beneath the silken words. You could hear it plainly, as did Yoongi based on the way he stiffened.

“No fees,” you repeated.

Jungkook exchanged a glance with Seokjin.

“It is not possible,” he said at last. “Our nation’s ports remain the primary source of income for many Ghalians. Now that Mor has conquered Kindare, they have free access to their ports and fail to use ours. It is only the revenue from Ashya which keeps up afloat.”

“I do not ask you to forsake all payments. Merely those from Ashya.”

Jungkook’s teeth flashed in what might have been a smile but came off as a grimace.

“Ashya provides half the sales at my docks,” he informed you. “By granting your nation free trade, you cut my people’s livelihood in half.”

Somewhat chastised by this, you sat back in your seat. You had not realized Duret Ghal’s economic outlook was so dire.

When Ashya had been a land of only Dragons, the fact you were landlocked had not been a problem. You could simply fly where you wanted and take whatever with. Now though, Ashya had more humans than Dragons and you were forced to find more accommodating solutions.

Ashyan craftspeople were famed for their metalwork, in addition to textiles, but such trade would be useless without people to buy and places to sell. For years, Duret Ghal had steadily increased their tariffs, which in turn had steadily crippled your people.

Returning to Jungkook, you clenched your jaw. “And what would we need to give Duret Ghal in order for our demand to be met?”

The corner of his lip curled.

In this singular motion, you were reminded of Jungkook’s somewhat brutal reputation. After the coup of his Uncle, rumor had it Jungkook had been bloodthirsty in his quest for revenge. Lord Vonner had been put to death in the main square of their capital city, roasted alive by Jungkook’s dragon, Nemrys.

You had not faulted him for this at the time, having also lost people at the hands of Lord Vonner. It was hard to imagine the type of pain Jungkook had gone through, losing both his parents and his throne in a single blow. Despite your understanding, you knew some had disapproved. They’d whispered amongst themselves the King had lost a better part of himself on that day.

“Shares in your mines,” Jungkook said in answer to your question. “Given the current situation with Mor, we’ve had difficulty collecting on some of our foreign loans. A fifty percent share in Ashya’s mines would ease our cash flow problems.”

Your lips tightened in response.

Jungkook had managed to touch upon Ashya’s main source of riches, and a large reason for the previous century’s Dragon Wars. Much of the Thadal range fell within your borders, meaning you owned the majority of gemstones on the continent. It meant little without Duret Ghal’s port cities, however. Mor had ceased trading with Ashyan merchants long ago.

Still, it pained you to grant Jungkook access to your most coveted resource. Everything in your nature – Dragon and otherwise – went against it, but sacrifices must be made for the greater good. You’d entered these negotiations aware this might happen. Another advisor, Lord Kim Namjoon, had warned you of it beforehand and yet, you had hoped.

If you did not find a compromise soon though, Mor would overtake you and the point would be moot.

“Ten percent,” you said at last, lifting your chin.

Jungkook’s eyes gleamed. “Forty.”

“Fifteen.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Twenty.”

Jungkook paused, then glanced at Seokjin for counsel. Bending close to the table, Seokjin scribbled something on a piece of paper and sighed. Looking at Jungkook, he nodded.

“Twenty,” Jungkook said, facing you.

You nodded, but before Jungkook could get too cocky, you held up a hand.

“In return,” you said. “All fees will be waived on Ashyan merchants.”

Jungkook stilled, a lone muscle ticking in his jaw. “I can lower the tariff to a flat rate of two and a half percent, but no more.”

The current tariffs on Ashyan merchants ranged from three to eight percent. Two and a half would benefit all Ashyan merchants, but you were uncertain if Jungkook had more to give. Possibly he was low-balling you, unwilling to show all his cards at once.

Glancing at Yoongi, you watched him slowly shake his head. No, the King was not lying.

Blinking, you returned to Jungkook. You had not expected him to show his hand so quickly. Perhaps he also tired of these negotiations. Gaze narrowed, you attempted to read the young King at the other end of the table.

His face remained blank, as inscrutable as your own. A shiver of something traveled down your spine, although you quickly pushed this away.

“We can accept this,” you said.

Jungkook nodded. “Then we are in agreement.”

Pushing your chair back, you stood from the table. “I think we have made enough progress for today. Lord Namjoon will draw up revisions for the treaty.”

Lord Namjoon nodded, near the center of the table. He was also a Dragon, although he rarely saw battle. Namjoon’s talents lay elsewhere, mainly in crafting legislation which aimed to avoid war in the first place. You could not afford to lose a mind like his to some border skirmish.

As you turned around, the skirts of your gown swept the floor. You’d nearly made it to the door when a firm hand caught your arm.

“A moment, Your Majesty,” Jungkook said, his voice low.

Going utterly still, your gaze shifted to his hand on your sleeve. Glancing up, you wished you truly had the power to turn humans to stone. It would have made these proceedings much easier.

Jungkook had dressed casually for the meeting. He seemed to have come straight from his dragon, since he wore riding leathers. He had no crown, unlike you. Amara, your lady in waiting, had insisted you add the thin, silver diadem before leaving. It lent you an air of authority, she’d said.

It seemed Jungkook could command his authority without such trinkets. The realization made you straighten, meeting his gaze several inches above yours.

“Yes?” you said, your voice frosty.

Jungkook released his grip.

A move you thought wise, all things considered. Behind him, you saw your advisors gathering their reams of paper. They chatted amongst themselves, purposefully ignoring the Ghalian retinue. All except for Lord Namjoon, who spoke politely to Lord Seokjin about a provision of the treaty.

To Lord Seokjin’s right sat Kim Taehyung, a dragon rider whose reputation preceded him. The general of Duret Ghal’s army, he had remained silent throughout the entirety of the negotiations. Based on how often he looked out the window, you got the feeling he preferred to spend his time in the sky and not amongst stuffy people.

Honestly, you could not blame him. Even if his kind of flying were a poor imitation of yours – seated astride a dragon, rather than becoming one himself.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook returned your attention to him.

“Is there something you want, Your Majesty?” you said, growing impatient. “I have a nation to run outside of these meetings, you know.”

A smile curled his lips. “I am aware.”

“So long as you are aware, then.”

You moved to walk past, but Jungkook stopped you again. Teeth gritted, you exhaled steam past your lips.

���What?” you snapped, turning to face him.

Something unreadable stole through his gaze. “We need not have these conversations at all,” he said, dropping his voice. “If you would agree to my original proposal.”

Immediately, your expression shuttered.

“Good day, Your Majesty,” you said and walked past.

This time he did not follow, falling silent as you swept from the room. Yoongi and Jimin joined your exit, the latter tossing a haughty look towards the Ghalians. Namjoon remained in the room, likely to continue his conversation with Seokjin.

As you walked away, you tried and failed to push Jungkook from mind. The offer he alluded to was completely ridiculous.

Marriage.

Seven months prior, Jungkook had sent a message to you after nearly a decade. He’d proposed several items, amongst which was a request to resume your failed betrothal. A list of reasons had been provided. Your nations were on the verge of war, the merger would benefit you both financially and would go a long way towards healing the realms.

Equally politely, you had declined.

It had been a long time since you’d sworn not to marry – or mate, as it were. The mating bond was a possibility for both Dragons and humans. Dragons only mated once in their lifetime, which tended to be longer than ordinary humans. Your parents had been mated to each other, meaning you’d witnessed firsthand the tragedy of their ending.

You would choose an heir when necessary, of course. You weren’t so selfish as to plunge Ashya into civil war when you died because you did not wish to mate. You’d even considered a marriage of practical alliance, one with no chance of mating, but the appropriate circumstances had yet to present themselves.

For this reason, amongst others, you had declined Jungkook’s offer.

Coming to a stop in the hall, you bade Jimin and Yoongi goodnight before continuing on your way. The sun had long since sunk below the horizon. Negotiations with Duret Ghal had taken up most of your time since their arrival in Valor, Ashya’s capital city, nearly ten days ago.

Outside your chambers, you nodded to the guards before entering. Once the door fell shut behind you, you released a sigh.

Straightening, you strode to your dresser and seated yourself at the mirror. As you removed your crown to set on its pedestal, you stared at the silver.

It was not as though you wished to be alone forever. Truthfully, you found yourself exhausted at the end of each day. It would have been nice to fall asleep beside someone and wake with them by your side. Each time you imagined the prospect though, you recalled your father’s death and thought better.

Both Yoongi and Namjoon knew the King had proposed.

Not Jimin, which was for the best. If you had accepted Jungkook’s offer, it would have taken a lot to convince Jimin to remain at his post. He had barely accepted the necessity of a treaty between Ashya and Duret Ghal.

Namjoon had been practical when he heard of the proposal, which you had expected. Lord Namjoon could be practical to a fault, known to ‘factor in’ emotional responses when making decisions. Privately, you thought him a nice foil to Jimin.

When you’d told Namjoon about the King’s offer, he had simply nodded and said it made sense. He acknowledged, of course, the difficulties such a match would present, but did not seem to think it would be a bad idea.

Yoongi had been the one who surprised you. As someone with decisive opinions, you’d imagined Yoongi wouldn’t approve of the match. Instead, he had merely suggested you consider the offer. When you had declined, Yoongi had seemed almost disappointed. It could be hard to tell though, since the Lord usually kept his emotions close to the chest.

Undoing the laces of your gown, you let it drop as you entered your bathing chambers. Amara had left heated water and oils, flickering candles set around the edge of your sunken tub. Lowering yourself to the water, you tipped your head back to rest on the edge.

Today ended only the first week of negotiations between you and Jungkook. Another week remained – you could survive this much, you reasoned. One week from now, you’d have much needed relief for your merchants, along with an ally against the looming threat of Mor to the south.

Only one more week, and Jungkook would be gone.

Ignoring the strange tingle which spread down your spine at the thought, you held your breath and lowered yourself underwater.

Lips pursed, you stared at yourself in the mirror.

Amara hovered, pins in her mouth while tightening your corset. Your dress for the evening was a mix of old and new – although you despised corsets, this one cinched your waist tight enough for the armor-like bodice. Skirts flowed like water to the ground, brushing the floor with emerald chiffon.

Tonight, you had decided to throw a feast honoring the upcoming treaty with Duret Ghal. The event had not been your idea, but Namjoon’s. He believed it would increase the goodwill between you.

You had protested this until Namjoon pointed out there’d been little to celebrate recently. Realizing the truth to this statement, you’d reluctantly acquiesced to two events. Tonight’s feast and a ball, to be hosted their final night before Duret Ghal left.

Inhaling, your eyes watered as Amara cinched the last hook.

“My apologies,” she said, casting a sympathetic glance in the mirror.

Mutely, you shook your head, not blaming her in the slightest. It was not her fault women's fashion tended to be barbaric, more often than not. It was why you preferred to wear looser gowns, ones you didn’t need your lady in waiting’s help to undo.

Amara had been your companion ever since you were little, although you could not exactly call her a friend. You were her Queen, first and foremost. There was no one else in Ashya for you to call an equal.

“Amara,” you said curiously, glancing up. “What do you think of the Ghalian King?”

Startled by your question, Amara nearly dropped the pins she held. Her wide brown eyes stared back at you in the mirror and briefly, you wondered if she thought this a trap. Possibly you needed to work on your resting facial expressions. Yoongi said you were too harsh, but then again, hearing this from Yoongi was the pot calling the kettle black.

“You can answer me honestly,” you said, a bit gentler. “It has been a long week of negotiations and I find myself wondering what people think of the treaty.”

“Well.” Amara looked thoughtful. “I rather think those are two different questions, Your Majesty. Do you wish to know what people think of the King, or the treaty?”

She was correct, you realized. The two were different, even if they were one and the same in your mind.

“Both,” you responded.

Turning towards the mirror, Amara began to fit the bodice over your bust. It was elaborate, with swirls of silver and emerald stitched into the hard lining.

“Well,” she said, hesitant. “Of course, people think the young King is handsome.”

“He is a rider,” you said sharply.

“It is not as important to humans,” Amara reminded gently. “It does not offend so much as it does the Dragons. And objectively speaking, the King is handsome. He could smile more,” she admitted. “But this does not seem to deter from his handsomeness.”

“I suppose not.”

Seeing your expression, she laughed. “You did ask me to speak honestly, Your Majesty. The people find the King handsome, but they do not trust outsiders. Especially Ghalians. Most have a family member who perished in the Dragon Wars.”

None of this was new information, although it did irk you to hear Jungkook’s looks were a topic of conversation in Valor. It was always like this with men versus women. The moment a male monarch had a somewhat pleasing expression, people were willing to forget all manner of atrocities committed in the past.

“And what of the treaty?” you pressed.

Amara bit down on her lip. “Well…”

“Yes?”

“It depends. Some oppose it, much as they did the treaty all those years ago. Others look forward to the potential trade gains. And still others,” Amara said, a knowing edge to her voice, “think you should accept the King’s proposal of marriage.”

Jerking upright, you prompted Amara to nearly stab you with a pin.

“Amara!” you gasped, looking down.

She blinked in surprise. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

“How… did you hear that?” you said, utterly flummoxed.

“It was only a guess.” Amara shrugged, a ghost of a smile at her lips. “Many villagers wondered if there were other reasons for His Majesty traveling all this way. They imagined you must have declined his offer, since nothing official has been announced.”

You stared at her in shock, a bit thrown by the assessment. Perhaps it had been naïve of you to assume no one would guess based on Jungkook’s elongated presence.

“I see,” you said at last. “The skirts, if you please, Amara?”

Sensing you were done with the conversation, Amara nodded and hastened to fasten the fabric. You stared at the dress in the mirror, willing your racing pulse to slow.

Your gown for the evening was emerald green; one of the colors of Ashya, along with the color of your scales as a Dragon. It had always been a source of pride for your parents, as though Natal herself had proclaimed your destiny.

As Amara arranged your train on the ground, you stared at your reflection. Most of what she said you had already known. Ashya had been divided for a long time now on how to proceed with Duret Ghal. You knew whatever choice you made, there would always be those who opposed you.

And yet, it was strange to hear some rooted for a union.

Glancing at Amara, you found yourself curious. “And what do you think?” you asked. “What is your opinion of the Ghalian King?”

Amara’s fingers hesitated on your hem.

“Me?” she said as she straightened. “I am sure I do not know, Your Majesty. I do not know the King personally, so it is hard to say.”

You nodded, having assumed as much.

“Although…” Amara hesitated, drawing your gaze back to her. “How a person treats their servants is usually indicative of their personality. Take Lord Larkin, for example,” she said, naming a wealthy noble at your court.

“What about him?”

Amara looked down. “His servants are skittish. They mostly keep to themselves at the request of their Lord. It is rumored he keeps a strict household, and his wife is inscrutable.”

Knowing what you did about Lord Larkin, these facts did not surprise you. He had an archaic mentality of most things – dutifully, you filed this information away for later use.

“What of His Majesty, then?” you said. “How do his servants treat him?”

“They seem to admire him.” Amara stood straighter. “From what I have seen, they seem to genuinely enjoy working for him and respect him. I know he has a fearsome reputation, but… perhaps it is only towards his enemies.”

“Whom we used to be,” you noted drily. “Until now.”

Her head bobbed in a nod. “This is also true.”

Despite this, Amara’s words lingered as you finished dressing. It was quite possible your feelings for Jungkook personally had clouded your judgement of him as a ruler.

There was not time to linger on this, since Yoongi arrived soon after to escort you to the great hall. You would be the last to arrive for tonight’s feast, which was customary.

Noise from the hall grew as you approached the doors. Tonight’s event would be more casual than the ball a week from now, but casual was relative since you’d been forced to wear a corset and the meal would feature no less than twelve courses.

As the doors swung open and you began to walk in, all noise within the hall ceased. Ashya’s great hall had seen centuries of celebration, along with conflict and conquest. At one point during the Dragon Wars, Valor had been briefly occupied by Duret Ghal. During this time, the banners hung on your walls had been blue and gold, instead of emerald and silver.

Entering the room with Yoongi at your side, you sensed the gaze of every inhabitant upon you. Focusing straight ahead, you did your best to ignore this. It had never felt natural to you, being the center of attention. You did so for the sake of appearances but had never enjoyed the sensation.

At least you had Yoongi, who looked handsome as usual in his formal attire. With his dark, sweeping hair and keen gaze, Yoongi would have made an excellent King consort. Unfortunately, your relationship had never progressed in this direction and frankly, Yoongi was not important enough to consider marriage without love.

Glancing your way, Yoongi caught your eye. “Is there something in my teeth?” he muttered.

Stifling a laugh, you faced forward.

“No,” you said. “I was only thinking about choices.”

Although Yoongi arched a brow, he said nothing in response. Now was not the time for an in-depth conversation. People bowed as you passed, a veritable rainbow of fabrics and colors. At the front of the hall, a table had been placed atop the raised dais. Behind it, the banners of Ashya and Duret Ghal had been strung.

High above, evergreen boughs entwined with the chandeliers, carefully spaced so they would not catch fire. Evergreens were considered sacred, symbols of Natal’s everlasting power. Although the winter solstice had not yet arrived, the air in Ashya was cold enough for them to thrive.

Your visiting guests had already arrived you saw as you approached the dais. To your surprise, you saw women traveled in Jungkook’s party. On the other side of Taehyung stood a lady with dark hair, right hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

Although both genders fought in the armed forces, it was still considered an unusual path for a woman. It was a pleasant surprise to see both men and women amongst the soldiers Jungkook had brought to greet you.

Seokjin wore robes of deep purple tonight, eschewing the colors of either nation. It was nearly as bold a statement as Taehyung, draped in the royal blue of Duret Ghal beside him. As you neared the table, both of them stood, and your gaze finally fell upon the man at the center.

Jungkook was already on his feet, a golden crown on his head in contrast to your silver.

Your gaze traveled lower, realizing he’d worn robes of midnight blue as well. His waist had been bound in a golden sash, robes flowing to accentuate his trim thighs. At his side, his sword remained hidden, a decorative golden tassel placed before the hilt. It was not the broadsword you’d seen him wear on his dragon, but a more formal rapier made for ceremonies and balls.

His gaze lingered on you as you approached, sweeping your body in similar fashion. Your skin burned each place he lingered, flames consuming you from the inside.

At the bottom of the steps you paused, and Jungkook inclined his head. His gaze remained fixed on yours the entire time.

After ascending the dais, you stood before your chair and surveyed the room. Long rows of tables and benches stared back, along with the faces of your many subjects. Taking a deep breath, you raised your chin.

“Citizens of Ashya and Duret Ghal,” you said, your voice ringing out. “We gather this evening in uncertain times. Much as Natal crafted the first light from darkness, so are better things forged in the fire of adversity. Although dark days lie ahead, I know they will only strengthen our bonds to each other.”

At your side, Jungkook listened with rapt attention. The rest of your speech was conciliatory, bland words about coming together for the betterment of both nations. Namjoon had written most of it and, in the corner of your eye, you saw him mouthing the words.

You only went off-book once, near the end.

“It is important now, more than ever, to remain united in the face of such a foe. Mor seeks to wipe us from the map – and why? It is because we are strong.” The entire great hall had gone silent, focused on your words. “We have what they will never obtain and so, they seek to destroy it. To destroy us, but I will not let them. We will not let them,” you corrected, glancing a Jungkook.

He looked at you and nodded.

“And when they do come to face us,” you said, turning forward. “We will show them exactly why they were right to fear our teeth and claws.”

A roar echoed through the hall, several shooting to their feet to vocalize approval. Turning around, you sat in your seat as gracefully as you could and arranged your gown.

Jungkook was next and once he began speaking, Yoongi leaned over.

“Nothing like a little bloodlust to get the party started,” he murmured.

You winced. “How bad was it?”

Yoongi chuckled. “They seemed to enjoy it. Lord Namjoon might not forgive you so easily.”

Glancing down the table, you saw Namjoon rubbing wearily at his temples. You nearly laughed at the sight, schooling your features to neutrality when you remembered Jungkook still spoke.

His speech was brief, which did not surprise you. During the time you’d spent in his presence, Jungkook struck you as a man with little bullshit, or patience.

Once he was finished and seated beside you, you waved a hand for the meal to start.

In the corner of the room, a string quartet began to play. Doors opened on both sides, allowing servers inside holding trays of food. As the first course was set before you – a medley of greens with spiced, mashed nuts – you reached instead for your cup of wine.

Even this strained your bodice, but you managed. One of the many perils of being a woman in power was navigating foreign dinners while wearing a corset.

“The ballroom is beautiful,” Jungkook said by your side.

Surprised, you turned. “Small talk, Your Majesty?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his greens. “You do not seem inclined to discuss important topics outside of our negotiations.”

“And what important topics would you care to discuss?”

Jungkook paused, setting down his fork to face you fully. Eyes gleaming, his lips parted, and you felt your heart start to race.

Yoongi cleared his throat at your side.

Both of you turned to stare at your advisor.

Eyebrows arched, Yoongi motioned towards the front. “The greeting line has begun,” he said.

Realizing he was correct, you sat back in your seat. Already, the line of subjects stretched down the main aisle. Lords and ladies, merchants and townsfolk, all attempting to curry favor with their monarchs. Reaching out, you gripped your wine glass to drink again. Yet another reason you disliked feasts, balls, and the like.

The politicking side of ruling had never come naturally to you, although you did practice. It meant endless hours of hobnobbing, spending time with people fawning for your favor. Still, it was important to meet with your citizens and hear their concerns. If only most of your court weren’t completely unbearable.

Inclining your head, you allowed the first two to come forward.

When they came into view, your expression softened. You had expected nobility, and instead found yourself faced with two tradespeople, by the looks of them. The man and woman had worn their best attire, immaculately neat under the scrutiny of court.

“Merchant Calum and his wife, Natalia,” said the announcer at the front.

You smiled in response to their curtsy and bow.

“Thank you for coming,” you said, and gestured for them to rise. “We are so glad you could join us tonight.”

“It is our honor, Your Majesty,” Natalia said, looking up.

“Is there something particular you came to discuss?”

Her gaze slid to Jungkook and you tried not to stiffen. Likely, they had come to see the King of Duret Ghal. It had been more than ten years since Jungkook had last entered Valor. 

“No, Your Majesty,” she said, her gaze sliding to you. “No favor to ask. We simply wished to see you in person. I apologize for my husband’s lack of speech in your presence,” she said, reaching for his hand. “He lost the ability during a fire in the mines years ago.”

“I see,” you said gently.

Looking at him, you signed your thanks for his attendance tonight. The man brightened, signing back gratitude for the invitation. His wife beamed, thanking you once more as the announcer stepped forward to hurry them on. It seemed their allotted time in your presence was up.

As they left, Jungkook glanced at you curiously. “Where did you learn how to sign?”

“Occasionally, one wishes to communicate without being overheard.”

Jungkook allowed the matter to drop but continued to look your way.

The true story was longer.

A year before your father had passed, you’d decided to join the Ashyan forces. You had called it a part of your training, but the reality had been the castle was empty and cold after your mother died.

No one had known who you were when you enlisted. You’d entered a regiment far enough away for few people to have ever walked the streets of Valor. It was where you’d met Jimin, whose parents had been Dragons of relative unknown. Under your parents’ regime, Jimin would never have been named commander.

This had been one of the first laws you overturned after your coronation – the blood laws, which had decreed only noble lines could serve in certain positions. Jimin was more Dragon than most of the realm. He fully deserved the title of commander.

While you served in the army, you’d also fallen in love for the first time. Leo had been human, from a western province so far away, it nearly fell off the edge of the map. An encounter with riders had left him without speech, so everyone in your regiment had learned to sign to communicate.

Unsurprisingly, your love had not lasted. As soon as Leo discovered who you were, things had come crashing down. When your father’s condition had worsened and you returned to the castle, your title and demands were placed on display.

Leo was ultimately forced to make a choice – a life of duty with you, or relative freedom in the western wastes. He chose the latter.

None of this was pertinent to your conversation with Jungkook though, and so you kept quiet and welcomed the next guest. A wealthier Ashyan merchant, to whom you made veiled references about lower tariffs which seemed to please him.

Once he had gone, you realized Jungkook continued to glance your way. Ignoring him, you motioned for the next group to be brought forward, but when they came into view, you stiffened. Following your gaze, Jungkook took in the two men who’d made you go still.

Lord Larkin and his son, Lord Declan – the very same nobility Amara had spoken of earlier. While you’d never liked the pair of them, your opinion had obstinately worsened based on what she’d said.

Lord Larkin bowed, silver hair shining in the candlelight above. His son, Declan, lowered his head as well. You waited a moment longer than necessary before asking them to rise.

“Lord Larkin,” you said flatly. “And Lord Declan. What a pleasure to have you both attend tonight.”

“The pleasure is ours, Your Majesty,” Larkin said with a nod. Casually, he glanced at Jungkook. “We wished to extend our welcome to the rider King, as well. It is certainly unusual to see a human seated beside an Ashyan Queen.”

Jungkook merely smiled.

Admittedly, the gesture didn’t do much to brighten his countenance. The warmth of his smile failed to reach his gaze. On the table, Jungkook tapped his long, agile fingers. You realized with some surprise they had been inked.

Tattoos were not uncommon amongst soldiers, but it was rare to see them amongst members of nobility. You found yourself curious what other marks the King bore.

“I imagine it would be unusual for any man to side beside your Queen,” Jungkook said calmly. “Dragon, rider, or any variation within.”

The implication to Lord Larkin was clear – you are not seated beside her, either. Seeming to understand, Larkin’s eyes flashed while he inclined his head.

You fought not to smile.

Lord Larkin owned two of the largest mines in the Thadal range and was integral to the Ashyan economy. It would be unwise to anger him or his family, a line you’d tiptoed around since your coronation. Especially once it became clear Lord Larkin wished to align his son, Lord Declan, to you in marriage.

For a while, you had considered the idea. Their family was powerful, in possession of both lands and titles which would enrich the crown. Lord Declan was also a Dragon, ensuring the royal Ashyan line would continue unhindered.

It had been Yoongi who advised caution. You were still young, new to the throne and with plenty of time to make an heir. Better to first gain control of your nation and consider the offers of a political marriage after. You had known even then Lord Declan was not your mate, no matter how much his father wished for him to be.

Mates were a mysterious thing in your world. They could be either Dragon or human and did not always present themselves in an obvious manner. A person could stand before their mate several times before realizing the bond.

People spoke of the signs, though. Some likened the beginnings of the bond to slow trickles of energy. Others described it as sparks caressing their skin. Still more mentioned an invisible thread which tied them to one another.

None of this you’d felt with Lord Declan, so you felt fairly comfortable saying he was not the one. And yet, you knew Lord Larkin would continue to bide his time.

“It is unusual for a male to sit by my side, you say?” you mused, sipping your wine. “Whatever do you imagine Lord Yoongi to be, Your Majesty?”

Lord Declan laughed, which prompted a glare from his father.

Jungkook tore his gaze away from the Lord. He glanced instead at Yoongi, who seemed determined to ignore your conversation while he finished his greens.

“A very pretty piece of décor,” Jungkook said at last.

At this, even Yoongi smiled. Stifling a laugh, you returned to the Lords who remained standing before you.

“He is most horrified to hear it, I am certain,” you said. “Although if His Majesty considers Yoongi’s looks to be his best asset, perhaps he is the foolish one at this table.”

Jungkook smiled at this, reaching out for a sip of his wine. He seemed more relaxed, less formal and you marveled at the change in his features.

“Is there anything else you wish to discuss?” you said, returning to the Lords.

Their time with you had been longer than the townspeople but then again, this was oftentimes the way of things. Lord Declan nodded, but Lord Larkin simply looked thoughtful, glancing between you and Jungkook. At last, he bowed his head.

“That is all,” he said. “Thank you both for your hospitality.”

Once they had left, you sagged in your seat.

“Pretty.” Yoongi snorted. “I shall have to write home and tell mother immediately.”

Jungkook laughed in response – a real, honest sound which made your heart flip in your chest. It was your first time hearing such a noise from his lips during this visit. It fractured your thoughts into a million pieces.

Rather than confront any of these pieces directly, you looked at Yoongi. “Now, there is food in your teeth,” you said.

Yoongi shrugged, lifting his spoon to fix his reflection. Returning to the waiting line, you gestured the next guests forward.

The rest of the evening passed smoothly. Most of your conversations were kept short, allowing only enough time to greet and move on. By the end of the line, your head was beginning to ache.

Collapsing into your chair, you released a sigh. The line, consumption of wine and lack of food had begun to create the perfect storm. At the next lull of music, your stomach growled in a most unbecoming fashion.

Closing your eyes, you prayed to Natal no one had heard.

“Have you eaten at all?” Jungkook asked from your side.

Opening your eyes, you wondered if perhaps the goddess was busy. Or maybe she simply didn’t care about mortal whims and petty Queens. Looking to your side, you found Jungkook frowning at your full plate.

“I have eaten some,” you said, and cut into the meat.

Before you could stop him, Jungkook had raised a palm to signal the server. “Was there a problem with your plate?” he asked, returning to you. “Or do you simply prefer to eat alone?”

Startled by how earnest Jungkook sounded, you were silent while waving the server away. The poor man fumbled a little, taking a few steps backwards before he turned around.

“Nothing of the sort,” you said, glancing at Jungkook. “The food is fine, and I do not care about eating before others.”

He seemed baffled. “Then, what is it?”

“It is my corset,” you hissed, lowering your voice. “Or have you never sat beside a woman at dinner before?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, drifting below your neckline. Amara had done an exceedingly good job at making certain you filled out the bodice. A lone muscle ticked in Jungkook’s jaw before he looked up.

“I have sat beside women before,” he said.

“What a delight.” Reaching out, you plucked wine from the table. “I am glad to hear it is not my responsibility to teach you about the fairer sex.”

His gaze narrowed. “Corsets are not as fashionable in Duret Ghal as they are here, Your Majesty,” Jungkook said lowly. “I have never had the pleasure of removing one before.”

Gaze snapping to his, you met his darkened stare. A flicker of heat curled in your belly, making you feel even more light-headed.

Before you could respond, Seokjin asked a question and Jungkook was forced to turn away. Hastily, you sat back and faced forward again. Reaching again for your glass, you took a large sip of wine.

Amara was not wrong. Jungkook was handsome and you were no better than the many people who’d come here tonight to look at the attractive, young King. Inwardly, you cursed your weak morals.

“He is not wrong, you know.” Yoongi continued to chew on your other side. “You should eat before coming to these events, Your Majesty.”

You shot him a look. “And when I desire your opinion, I shall ask it, Lord Yoongi.”

“I thought you paid me to advise you?”

“Only under specific circumstances.”

“And what circumstances would those be?”

“When I ask.”

Yoongi laughed, setting down his fork to reach for his glass. “Will you at least send up food to eat afterwards?’

“Of course,” you said, pushing your meat aimlessly away. “This is not my first gathering, you know.”

Yoongi nodded and the two of you fell into comfortable silence. The conversation had lessened some of the tension between you and the King. And yet, you continued to be aware of his presence beside you.

On the table, his hand rested close enough for you to see. Tanned fingers entwined with black ink, his palms roughened by callouses, proof of the leather he gripped when he rode.

Jaw taut, you continued to drink from your glass of wine. Long before it was considered polite, you yearned to stand and retire for the evening. People danced after the final courses, but it was a paltry thing compared to a real ball.

Once most of your guests had begun to leave, Namjoon agreed it was acceptable for you to go. With great relief, you stood and said your goodbyes. Yoongi went with you, following you towards a separate hallway to avoid foot traffic in the castle. Halfway down the hall, you heard someone say your name from behind.

Turning around, you found King Jungkook striding towards you. His robes swished about his ankles, head held high despite the wine and the hour. As he came to a stop, you turned towards your advisor.

“You may go, Yoongi,” you said, dismissing him. “I will return to my rooms after speaking with His Majesty.”

Yoongi hesitated, then took his leave. You watched him disappear down the hall, waiting until he turned the corner before you spoke again.

“It will seem suspicious for us to leave at the same time, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook made a dismissive noise. “I am not concerned by the thoughts of people in there.”

“An odd way to think of your subjects.”

He considered you standing before him. “You have a very low opinion of who I am and how I run my Kingdom.”

“No,” you said. “Merely of the idea of you running mine.”

Jungkook blinked, taken aback by your statement, but his confusion did not last long. After a moment, he stepped forward to close the space between you.

“Is this what you think of me?” he asked, voice low. “You think I asked for your hand in marriage – why? To become King of Ashya without the difficulties of waging war?”

“It would be a practical way to go about it.”

Jungkook’s gaze scanned your features. “I do not desire to rule Ashya in your stead. Merely to provide the best solution for both our peoples.”

Standing this close, you could feel the heat from his body. His scent was a living thing, wrapping your limbs, coaxing you closer – teeth gritted, you fought the need to take a step backwards.

“That is what you say, Your Majesty.”

He stiffened. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I believe there are things you do not tell me.”

“And what about you, Your Majesty?” Jungkook tilted his head. “You have declined my offer of marriage and have yet to give a reason.”

“Do I need to give you one?”

“I would like one.”

“I should think you used to disappointment by now,” you said. “Such is the lot of Kings and Queens.”

He stared at you for a moment, his features softened by candlelight. A feeling almost like regret stole through you, gone before you could fully embrace it.

“Do you remember the last time you visited Duret Ghal?” Jungkook asked, which surprised you.

You stared at him a moment. The suddenness of the question pushed all retorts from mind. Thus far, you had held firm to your vow not to marry by convincing yourself the man standing before you was your enemy.

Now though, he asked if you remembered.

In truth, you did.

It had been your seventeenth birthday when you last traveled to Duret Ghal. The occasion had been to finalize your parents’ treaty, as well as formally meet Jungkook as your betrothed. You had met a few times before then, as children, but it had been a long time since those days.

Duret Ghal was a land of icy wilderness, except during the summer, when harsh winter snows melted to expose greenery and cliffs. Rumors said the dragons kept their bays clear of ice, but you had gone at the wrong time of year to see this in person.

To the north of Duret Ghal lay the Irik Sea, a fathomless expanse of foamed troughs of water. Its only mountains to speak of were the famed Cliffs of Oria, which circled the capital city of Ebril. It was within these cliffs the famed dragons nested.

Ebril was situated along the coast, known equally for seamen as much as their riders. The people of Ebril were known to be craggy and sharp, much like the topography. Despite their reputation, Ebril was a city of learning. Built from the white limestone which lined its cliffs, it was occasionally referred to as the jewel by the sea.

Ebril had not been the only thing which fascinated you on that trip. You had found Jungkook equally intriguing.

He had been different then. Still quiet, but in a studious way. His hair had been shorter, as though he could not be bothered with the time it took to comb it.

Upon your arrival, you had thought Jungkook hated you. He could not seem to stand being in the same room as you for very long. Still, he had not seemed antagonistic and so, you had resigned yourself to a loveless marriage and spent time exploring the city.

One morning, you’d woke to find the day warm enough for a trip to the cliffs. Your parents had been busy from sunup to sundown, negotiating the treaty you now found yourself crafting. Back then though, you’d been blissfully free of obligation and duty.

Having never seen the Cliffs of Oria, you’d gone to the stables to secure a mount. Strictly speaking, you did not need one as a Dragon. Ideally, you preferred to fly by yourself, but your parents had warned you against shifting in Duret Ghal.

Although some things had changed since the Dragon Wars, many Ghalians still did not trust your kind. It was never a good idea to push boundaries, especially not when the treaty depended upon it.

You had even borrowed Amara’s clothes in an attempt to blend in. It had been a practical move on your part, since you’d been packed only dresses.

When you’d arrived and requested a horse from the palace stable hand, he had looked you up and down before sneering.

“You’re Ashyan,” he’d said upon hearing your accent. The word Ashyan sounded like a curse. “I heard some of your kind had come to the castle. Thought you could fly without horses, huh? What need do you have with a Ghalian mount?”

You’d been so taken aback, you blurted out the first thing which came to mind.

"If you know so much about Ashya,” you’d told him, gaze hard, “then surely you know more humans live within its borders than Dragons. Humans cannot sprout wings any more than a man like you can see reason.”

The man’s eyes had bugged, taking a threatening step forward – as a soft laugh echoed through the courtyard. Surprised, both of you had turned towards the sound.

In the archway of the stables, Jungkook had shut his book in one hand. “That was funny,” he said, looking at you.

Upon seeing the Prince, the stable hand had paled.

“Your Highness,” he said, hastening to bow.

Jungkook’s gaze slid towards him, any trace of humor disappearing. He stared at him coldly and for a moment, you’d seen a hint of the King he would become.

“I believe the lady asked for a horse.” Jungkook had spoken calmly. “Were you about to deny the request of a royal guest to the crown?”

He did not call you the princess and for a moment, you had wondered if he knew.

“Of course not, Prince Jungkook,” the stable hand had stammered and for a moment, you’d felt a modicum of pity for him.

Then the man had cast you a dark look entering the stables and you'd quickly forgotten your mercy. Instead, you’d found yourself wondering how loud he’d scream if you shifted.

Jungkook cleared his throat.

Looking at him, you’d found him lingering in the entrance to the courtyard. Curiosity washed through you, wondering if he intended for you to thank him. The idea was vaguely insulting. You could have handled one measly human.

“I did not need your help, you know,” you had said.

Jungkook had merely arched a brow. “Oh, I am aware.”

“Good.”

Turning around, you had considered the conversation to be over. While you stood and waited for your horse though, you realized Jungkook did not leave. After another moment, you’d turned towards him.

“Then, why did you interject?” you’d asked, suddenly curious.

Rather than answer immediately, Jungkook had crossed the courtyard. He came to a stop before you, forcing you to tilt your head back to see him. For a human, you remembered him being quite tall.

That close, you’d seen Jungkook’s eyes for the first time. They were not all brown, as you’d imagined. Instead, you saw many colors within – auburn, hazel, and a deep, burnished gold. 

Meeting his gaze frankly stole your breath away.

“You are my guest,” Jungkook had said. “And my betrothed. It is my duty to protect you.”

Looking away, you’d tried not to smile. Despite the fact you were trying not to laugh, it felt oddly wrong to be free of his gaze.

“Why are you smiling?” Jungkook had asked, confused.

“I am sorry,” you had said, biting back a smile. “It is only… well. Is that how women are raised in Duret Ghal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Before you could answer, the stable hand had emerged with a horse in tow. Accepting the reins he gave, you’d placed a foot in the stirrup and swung into the saddle. Settling your weight, you’d leaned forward and pet the horse’s long mane.

Glancing up, you’d locked eyes with Jungkook. “You speak of women as though they need protection. I must say, it has never been something I needed or wanted,” you’d said quietly, then clicked your heels and steered the horse away.

You had not looked back as you rode from the castle, but felt the weight of his gaze between your shoulder blades the entire way. It had sent the strangest energy across your skin but once you reached the trail, you managed to push both this and Jungkook from mind.

The sea had always been a subject of endless fascination for you. Crossing the grassy plains which topped the Cliffs of Oria, you’d found satisfaction in the salty taste of the air.

After nearly an hour of riding, you’d slowed to a stop. Before you, the Irik Sea had stretched in an endless display of blue. It reminded you of the sky with its limitless potential. As soon as you thought this, you had the dearest wish to fly.

Glancing away, you realized you’d seen no other humans for miles. Quietly, you slipped from your horse and tied him to a tree.

Entering a nearby thicket, you’d changed from your clothes and placed them under a rock. When you transformed to a Dragon, it tended to shred whatever clothing you wore.

Naked as the day you’d been born, you stood under the sky and tipped your head back. Allowing the transformation to take hold, warmth had spread through your veins until – opening your eyes, you were a Dragon.

Humans referred to this as the change, but you’d never found it to be an accurate descriptor. It was not as though you changed from one thing to the other; merely shifted to a different part of yourself. You were always a dragon and always a human. To be a Dragon was to be both.

Wings unfurled, you’d bent and leapt into the sky. It always took you a moment to reorient after shifting. Your senses of sight, smell and hearing were sharper as a dragon, although some things were different.

Beating your wings against the sea breeze, you’d risen and fallen while surveying the cliffs. From this height, you’d been able to see the smaller cities which dotted the fields of the capital. Ebril shone like a star on the distant shore. Instead of flying towards this, you turned in the opposite direction. You had no desire to be seen and send their women into hysterics.

Remembering Jungkook’s words, a jet of flame left your nostrils in a wicked snort. The idea of protecting a Dragon was laughable. Wheeling sideways, you’d traveled further out over the ocean. It had been silver-green at the time, bright as the clearest Ashyan jewel.

Growing bolder, you’d flown lower and skimmed the waves with your toes. Swooping higher, you’d circled again before diving straight down. When you plunged beneath the surface, the coldness of the Irik snatched fire from your lungs. Sputtering, you’d breached the surface and shot into the air to hang there, gasping.

Then you grinned and dove again.

For the first time in months, you’d allowed yourself to have fun. Ever since you’d turned sixteen, you’d become infinitely aware of your title and duty. Your duty to marry, to someday become Queen and leave your childhood behind. You’d wondered why you needed to give up fun and freedom, all for someone else’s hand.

In truth, the idea of marriage had scared you. Riders enjoyed taming dragons, or so the legends had said. They’d taken your ancestral creatures and turned them into beasts who willingly did their bidding. You had no desire to do anyone’s bidding but your own.

After a long day of flying, you’d tucked in your wings and returned to the cliffside. Although you had told your parents where you were going, they would worry if you were not back in time for dinner. Approaching the spot where you’d left your things, you realized a second horse had been tethered beside yours.

Searching the plains, you’d immediately spotted Jungkook. He lazed in the sun at the edge of the cliff, book open on his stomach and one arm behind his head.

He did not so much as look up when you landed, although the noise from your wings must have been deafening. Dropping into the thicket, you’d quickly returned to human form. With trembling hands, you’d pulled back on Amara’s clothes.

As you exited, Jungkook remained in his same position. Upon seeing him there, you’d stopped and looked away. Perhaps he had not seen you after all.

“How was your swim?” Jungkook had asked, eyes still shut.

Your stomach had dropped.

“I can explain,” you’d said, stepping forward.

One eye opening, Jungkook had frowned. Pushing himself to his elbows, he’d surveyed you and it had struck you suddenly how beautiful he was. Brown curls and soft gaze, above a lean body.

“What do you have to explain?” he’d asked, sounding curious.

“I – well.” For the first time, you’d found yourself flummoxed. “I did not mean to take advantage of Duret Ghal’s hospitality.”

This seemed to amuse him. “Are you… apologizing for using the sky, Your Highness?”

“No. Well, yes.”

Something in your expression made Jungkook soften. Closing his book and setting it aside, he’d stood from the ground and began to walk closer. He came to a stop near enough to see the tiny mole beneath his lip.

“Some Ghalians fear Dragons, it is true,” he’d said quietly. “But you need not ever fear this from me, Your Highness. If someone asked you not to fly in my Kingdom, please consider this to be a formal revocation.”

You had stared at him a moment before arching a brow. “It could be dangerous to fly, though. I might be in need of protection.”

Jungkook had paused for a moment before laughing, his head thrown back and smile wide. It was the same laugh he’d made tonight at the banquet.

“Forgive me for earlier,” he’d said, lowering his head to meet your gaze. “It was foolish of me to imagine I might protect a mighty Dragon.”

Although he’d adopted a teasing tone, seriousness lit his gaze. You found you rather enjoyed it. Enjoyed him, against all better reason. The slightest of thrills went down your spine.

“Foolish, indeed,” you’d murmured.

In your mind though, you’d wondered if perhaps you were the foolish one.

Although the day had been nearly ten years ago, you had never forgotten it. Never forgotten the boy who’d wanted to protect a Dragon.

The answer to Jungkook’s question was a resounding yes.

Yes, you remembered. Perhaps too much.

“I remember some,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Not all.”

Jungkook paused. “I see.”

“If that is all, I shall –”

“We were to be married before,” he said, expression inscrutable. “Is the idea of marrying me now so repulsive?”

“I do not find you repulsive,” you said on instinct.

Too late, you realized you’d eliminated an answer. You did not find Jungkook repulsive, so your reason for declining was something else.

He considered this. “No?”

“I do not,” you admitted. “But I also don’t know you, Your Majesty. Our former betrothal ended nearly ten years ago. The intention was to mend a rift between two nations. The situation is different now. Now, we have a common enemy to unite us.”

“And once Mor is defeated?”

“The defeat of a mutual enemy will be enough.”

Jungkook gave you a look which plainly said, will it?

Growing increasingly frustrated, you stepped forward until you stood nose to nose. Tilting your chin higher, you fought the overwhelming tide of his cedar and sunshine.

“You asked if I remember our last meeting and I do,” you said hotly. “I also remember the carnage which followed. Do not ask from me more than I can give, Your Majesty.”

A shadow crossed Jungkook’s expression, quickly followed by anger.

“If you remember so well,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Then surely you remember it was my Kingdom, not yours which paid for the coup in blood. It took me many years to rebuild what my Uncle destroyed.”

“I did not mean –”

“I think you did,” he interrupted. Taking a step back, he allowed cool air to pass between you. Stiffly, he bowed. “Thank you for the evening, Your Majesty. Enjoy the remainder of your night.”

Turning around, Jungkook strode down the hall until he disappeared.

You remained still for a moment, staring after him and wondering what you had done. All you’d wanted to do was to steer the conversation away from your vow not to marry. Instead, you’d insulted a man who had done nothing to harm you – at one point, he’d even wanted to protect you.

Gathering your skirts, you turned and walked away. Yoongi had not waited for you, for which you were grateful. You had no doubt he’d side with King Jungkook regarding your display this evening. Anyone with half a brain would, you supposed.

Still, it was too much for Jungkook to expect you to marry him simply because you had once been engaged. You’d been right about one thing – the situation was different now. You were different now and could not afford to let Jungkook get any closer.

You’d witnessed firsthand the kind of disaster such unions wrought.

Climbing the steps to your chamber, the crown on your head felt heavier tonight than ever before.

The sun had not yet risen when you left your bed the next morning. Donning a gown, you hastily braided your hair and slipped outside. Nodding hello to your guards, you hurried down the corridors and out a side door.

As the land of Dragons, Ashya had developed unique features attuned to their needs. One such accommodation were the sheds – tiny, low buildings with large yards beyond them. They rested on the opposite side of the stables, since horses tended to be spooked by dragons and the main purpose of the sheds was for Dragons to shift.

Entering the one closest, you shut the door and began to undress. Hanging your clothes on the wall, you strolled into the enclosed yard. Its walls were high enough to ensure no passersby saw, yet large enough to encompass an adult Dragon.

Inhaling a breath, you tipped your head back and let the shift come. Wings unfurling, you opened your eyes and set your forelegs upon the ground. Bending low to the dirt, you pushed yourself upwards and into the sky.

Soaring over the castle, you began to fly southeast of the city. Valor sprawled out beneath you, a haphazard city of cobblestone and flint. Smoke curled from the chimneys, the earliest households waking for the day.

To the east, the foothills of the Thadal mountains were covered in pasture. Sheep and goats grazed there; their wool favored by Ashyan merchants. Circling overhead to ensure all was well, you found yourself satisfied and began to climb higher.

This was one of your favorite pastimes. Flying high enough that even your Dragon’s breath froze in your lungs, crystallizing in bursts until you could no longer bear it. Then you dove, tucking your wings in to hurtle towards the ground.

At the last moment, you snapped your wings open and rode the wind.

Snorting a thin stream of smoke, you slowed as you approached the mountains. The first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, spilling their light between the rocky crags. Inhaling fresh morning air, you flew further south.

The Thadal range was truly one of the wonders of the continent. Flying between towering peaks, you did not question why the Dragon Wars had been fought for its riches. The mountains went on for miles in the east, a flight you’d only made once. It had taken you nearly a week to cross the entire range and at its end you’d found a desert similar in size to the Irik Sea.

When you had returned, your father had berated you. Your mother had died only a year prior and he had only recently managed to pull himself together. If you had died, he’d shouted, the entire future of Ashya was lost.

It was a heavy burden to bear, but one you’d shouldered after his passing. Everything you did was for your nation and people. You would be enough for Ashya and would guard against the kind of attachments which might put this at risk.

As the sun slowly rose, the tightness in your stomach increased. With the rising sun came the responsibilities of being Queen. You had a schedule to keep, meetings to attend with Duret Ghal, your advisors and a large group of nobles.

Tucking in your wing, you began to turn – only for bright, searing pain to hit you in the shoulder.

Crying out, you fought to keep stable while twisting around. Wings beating the air, you frantically searched for your attacker. Vision blurred, you scanned the tree lines below and found nothing.

A second bolt shot towards you. With great effort, you managed to dodge the strike, rolling in midair. Mid-twist, you realized a large iron bolt remained lodged in your shoulder.

Stomach curdling, you realized what danger you were in. Only Mor had crossbows strong enough to kill a Dragon. Somewhere beneath you lay a Mor patrol.

Searching the woods, you felt hot drops of blood dripping from your scales. Before you could retaliate, before you could so much as inhale, an arrow of darkness shot into your vision.

Jungkook, astride his dragon, Nemrys, laid waste to the mountain.

A great wave of fire engulfed where the Mor patrol had been. Faint screams rose from below, a final shot fired but its aim was way off, as though whomever had done so, did so out of panic.

Wings flapping, you tried to stay aloft, but to no avail. It was hard to bring down a Dragon with a single bolt, but Mor had perfected their technology over the past century and you’d been caught unawares.

Nemrys continued to torch the forest even as you dropped, struggling to stay alight. Vision turning black, you thought you heard Jungkook yell – or maybe it was your own subconscious – before you spiraled down, wings cutting through branches before you hit the ground.

Everything went dark after that.

Groggily, you woke to the sound of your name being called.

Fabric had been draped over your torso, softer than the dirt beneath your back. As you opened an eye, you realized you’d shifted to human. This happened occasionally when you went through a great shock.

As soon as you thought this, you remembered the attack. When you attempted to sit upright, a gentle hand gripped your shoulder. Re-focusing through the haze, you realized it was Jungkook who knelt beside you.

His expression remained on your arm. A shudder of pain wracked your body, which had been covered by his cloak, you realized.

Except for your shoulder, that was.

Catching a glimpse of it on the ground, you winced and forced yourself to look away. The lower part of your arm remained unscathed, but the upper portion was in bad shape. All you could see was blood, shredded muscle, and bone peeking through.

“The arrow,” you breathed, head spinning. “Where is it?”

“Knocked loose when you landed,” Jungkook said, tight-lipped. “Which was lucky, given how large the bolt was. Had you shifted while it was still in your shoulder… I do not know what might have happened. Still…” He paused. “You have lost a lot of blood.”

Turning aside, Jungkook began rummaging through a pack on the ground. Dizzily, you glanced around the forest clearing.

“W-where is Nemrys?” you asked, your teeth chattering.

Jungkook looked back with alarm. “I left him in the clearing,” he said. “There was not enough room for him to land.”

“And this is… your cloak?”

Jungkook nodded but said nothing more. He was dressed in all leather, a broadsword strapped to his back in a pragmatic sheath. When he turned your wrist over, you let out a hiss and his gaze snapped to yours.

A war seemed to wage within him as Jungkook sat back on his heels. “You have lost a lot of blood,” he repeated.

“There are healers in Valor,” you said, struggling to sit up. “You must bring me to them.”

Jungkook gripped your good shoulder again. “You cannot shift in this state, and I fear moving you would aggravate the wound ever further.”

You glared at him from the ground. “What do you propose, then?”

Even as you spoke, it occurred to you the situation might be bad. Right now, shock and adrenaline kept the pain at bay, but it would soon wear off.

“I stopped the blood flow as best I could,” Jungkook said. “But it continues to bleed. I fear you may lose consciousness before we reach the capital.”

Panic rose, choking whatever retort you had to say. If you lost consciousness now, it would only be a matter of time before your organs began to fail. You could not die here. You would not; not on an unknown forest floor, miles away from your home.

You would not be brought down by a single Mor patrol before you even got the chance to face them on the battlefield.

“What are the options,” you said, returning to Jungkook. “Do you have a tourniquet with you? Can Nemrys cauterize my wound? I can survive the loss of a limb, Your Majesty, but I will not leave Ashya so poorly defended.”

Jungkook stared at you a moment before he slowly exhaled.

“There is another option,” he said at last.

“Whatever it is, you best do it quickly. Before I pass out and leave you to wrestle with your conscience alone.”

Suppressing a grimace, Jungkook finally nodded and rolled up his sleeves. It exposed sinuous forearms and ink which, in any other circumstance, you might have found appealing. As it was, you merely found them distracting.

Jungkook hesitated before laying his hands on your arm.

“You must…” He paused, then swallowed. “You must trust me, Y/N.”

The use of your first name was shocking enough for you to fall silent. Nodding, you stared at the sky and laid as still as you could. The pain had begun to set in; you could feel phantom tingles from your injured limb. Dull, shooting pain which throbbed in your shoulder.

At first, nothing happened.

Jungkook’s hands remained on your arm and for a moment, nothing changed. Then – a flurry of sparks skittered down his hands. They sank into your skin so quickly, you thought you’d imagined it.

In response to this, the pain flared, and you arched your back.

“Steady,” said Jungkook, calloused hands on your body. It could have been your imagination, but his dark eyes seemed to glow. “The pain will be gone soon.”

As he spoke, more and more sparks traveled down his forearms. They increased until a golden stream of light poured from his fingertips, fracturing into pieces and – healing you, you realized.

Each place the golden light touched, your muscles reknit. Blood flowed back to the wound as your skin stitched itself together. Shocked, you stared at the evidence of your wound being erased. A bead of sweat rolled down Jungkook’s brow, his color turning sallow while you stared in alarm.

“Jungkook,” you rasped, chest rising and falling. The steady stream of light continued to brighten. “Jungkook – enough.”

He inhaled and jerked back, severing the connection.

Still breathing heavily, you stared at him in shock. The forest around you seemed darker, as though it, too, missed the light. Missed the golden magic which had poured forth from his fingers.

Shakily, you pushed yourself to a seated position, one hand on his cloak to hold it in place. Glancing down, you saw your shoulder and went still. He had healed you. Somehow, Jungkook had healed you.

Experimentally, you flexed the muscles and watched the skin ripple, undeterred.

You’d heard of healing magic but never experienced it in person. Magic was rare enough for not all gifts to be born in the same lifetime. There was also the small matter of neither of Jungkook’s parents being Dragons. Only a human with a Dragon parent could inherit magical gifts.

“Explain,” you said, gaze lifting to him.

Jungkook blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Explain,” you repeated, not looking away. “How did you heal me?”

Finally understanding, Jungkook sat back on his heels. Twisting around, he rummaged in his pack for a canteen and unscrewed the cap. As he took a long sip, Jungkook stared at the forest.

His exhaustion was clear, and you felt a glimmer of regret at your words. Regret – and something else. Something warmer, which wrapped you in golden tendrils as easily as his magic.

Clutching the cloak, you stared and realized you were being unfair. First and foremost, he had saved your life. Everything else could wait.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Jungkook stilled.

“I do not know how, nor why you healed me,” you continued. “But… thank you for doing so.”

Setting down his canteen, Jungkook waited a moment before turning to face you. He seemed to wrestle with some inner emotion.

“You are welcome.” After another beat, he reached into his sack. “Here,” he said, pulling out a ball of clothes. “If you wish to change into my spare clothing, you may. I can wait over there.”

Once you accepted the bundle, Jungkook stood from the ground. Dusting his palms on his pants, he swayed a little before he steadied himself. Before you could comment on this he was gone, trekking across the clearing.

Silently, you unfolded the clothes in your lap.

They included a tunic and trousers, along with a leather belt to hold them in place. Scuffed boots made up the last item of the pile. Running a thumb up their side, you attempted to determine their make.

“Why do you have all this?” you asked, looking up.

Even from here, you could see Jungkook’s cheeks redden. “Nemrys and I were once trapped by a snowstorm. We were forced to camp for the night in the mountains. Ever since then, I’ve always carried supplies. Get dressed,” he said, turning around. “I promise not to look.”

Tough you bristled, you watched and true to his word, he did not turn around. Once you were certain of this, you stood from the ground and began to dress yourself. His tunic was much too large, as were the trousers, forcing you to tighten the belt to its final notch. The fabric was soft and warm though, smelling of him.

Again, you marveled at your ease of motion. You’d seen your shoulder before Jungkook had done his healing and knew the situation could have been worse. If you hadn’t bled out in the woods, you might have lost the limb. Even in older accounts of magical healing, you knew it could be dangerous work. Healing required knowledge of muscles, veins, ligaments, and nerve endings. It was simple to patch up skin – harder to make everything beneath it work again.

Whatever magic Jungkook had, it was powerful.

Once you were fully dressed, you approached him on the other side of the clearing. Jungkook continued to stare pointedly at the woods, only turning around when you tapped his shoulder. He swiftly took in your outfit, gaze darkening at the sight of his clothes on your frame.

Ignoring the possible meanings his look could contain, you cleared your throat.

Jungkook’s gaze jumped to yours. “Are you ready to go?” he said, a bit brusque. “Nemrys is willing to fly us both back.”

Your jaw fell a little. “You wish for me to ride a dragon?”

“I expect you not to undo the gift I gave. Although I fixed your shoulder the best I could, I’d prefer a healer examined you back in Valor. It would be bad,” Jungkook added, seeing your expression, “if the Queen of Ashya were to plummet from the sky after my attempted healing.”

Much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. Magic was tenuous – even you knew how complicated healing magic was.

“Fine,” you muttered. “I will ride back with you.”

When you moved to walk past him, Jungkook grabbed your arm. Bristling somewhat, you stared at his hand on your sleeve.

“What?” you huffed, looking upwards.

Jungkook met your gaze. “Before we go,” he said slowly. “There are things you should know. Things we need to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“Such as my magic,” he said, releasing your arm. “My magic, where it comes from, and what it means for Ashya.”

You stared at him, not understanding.

Jungkook exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. Dark strands fell around his face, partially concealing the worry in his gaze. Of what, or for whom, you did not know.

“Do you know the origin story of magic?”

His voice had deepened, softened a little. Something about this and his expression convinced you not to snap back. Every child on the continent knew the origin story.

“Of course,” you said curiously. “Natal ripped a hole in the veil and before she could close it, magic seeped through.”

“True.” Jungkook nodded. “In your version of the story though, only your kind were gifted with magic. This is not the case. All dragons have magic.”

The world around you seemed to tilt. What Jungkook said was impossible and yet, he seemed utterly serious. For a moment, you wondered if he’d also been hurt in the attack. Perhaps he’d hit his head in his haste to heal you.

“You are the only kind of dragon who can shapeshift,” he continued. “Other kinds of magic exist, though. There are other types of power the dragons can wield.”

“Impossible,” you whispered, finally finding your voice.

“It is true.” Jungkook’s gaze remained level. “Riders can use the magic of the dragon they’re bonded to. It is why I can heal. Nemrys comes from a long line of dragons with healing magic.”

“It cannot be,” you said, reeling from the implications. “Only the descendants of Dragons and humans are born with magic.”

“And riders, once they bond.”

You stared at him a moment, then shook your head. “We would have known. We would… we would have known if someone else could use magic. How could we not?” you demanded.

A shadow of something bitter crossed Jungkook’s expression. “I am sure you are aware there are parts of Duret Ghal which disapprove of magic.”

You did not know how this could relate to the dragons and their riders but allowed the detour to continue. It could not be worse than the sudden revelation magic was different from what you’d always imagined.

“I am aware,” you said flatly. “A ridiculous notion. Magic wins wars.”

“True.” Jungkook seemed to weigh his words. “But those born with gifts are viewed as a necessary evil by some within Duret Ghal. A tool for battle and nothing more. If these people had discovered their leaders had magic?” Jungkook shook his head. “A century ago, Ghalians would have revolted.”

Your eyes narrowed. “They would accept you ride dragons, but not that you have magic?”

A ghost of a smile crossed Jungkook’s lips.

“Humans are gifted magic when a Dragon and human mate,” he explained. “For many years, Duret Ghal considered Ashya and Dragons to be our enemy. You can understand why the idea of magic was an inherent threat.”

“…I suppose.”

“They only accepted the riders because Ghalians imagined the same thing you did – that the dragons we ride are a tame, subservient species compared to your own. It is not so.”

“No?”

“No.”

Unable to fathom this, you looked away at the forest. If everything Jungkook said was true, then the history of your nation – of your continent – was a lie. The Dragons of Ashya were only different in that they could shapeshift. The rhetoric you’d believed your whole life, that you were somehow more than the rest, was untrue.

The dragon riders had magic and, realizing this, you turned back.

“Why did you heal me, then?” you asked. “If the Ghalians feel so strongly about magic, surely you would wish to keep this a secret?”

Jungkook hesitated.

“We were… aware of the risk coming here. For many years, I have been trying to convince the other riders to reveal themselves,” he explained. “It was the coming war against Mor which convinced them, in the end.”

“What does Mor have to do with it?”

“Everything,” Jungkook said. “Mor has declared a war on all dragons, including those of Duret Ghal. Their technology is beyond ours. When they do come, it will be a bloody battle. If we do not fight with our full capabilities, we might fail. I will not allow this to happen.”

“And so,” you said slowly. “You healed me because… you had already decided to reveal your magic?”

An amused gleam entered his gaze. “Amongst other reasons,” Jungkook allowed. “Though you may not believe it, I rather enjoy having you around, Your Majesty. It would be a pity to waste a life such as yours.”

There seemed to be deeper meaning to his words, but you had no time to dissect it. Stepping closer, Jungkook looked down.

“We had planned to reveal our magic once the treaty was signed,” he explained. “Your injury simply moved up the timeline.”

“I see,” you said, somewhat dazed by his presence so close to your own.

Jungkook nodded, then turned to continue, but something within you kept you from moving. Staring at the back of his head, you realized the words you truly wanted to say.

“And the other dragons,” you said slowly, then stopped. “What about them?”

Paused at the edge of the clearing, Jungkook turned around. Wariness had entered his gaze.

“I do not know this is my story to tell,” he admitted. “But since you cannot speak directly to Nemrys, I can tell you what he told me.”

Jungkook glanced overhead and you wondered if he searched for the time. Or, you realized, he could be communicating with Nemrys.

You had known rider and dragon had a bond. This had been well-documented throughout history, but not much else was known beyond their ritualistic ceremony. Whether dragon and rider could converse was a controversial topic amongst historians, but based on what Jungkook said, it seemed they could.

Based on what he did now, it seemed they did.

“Thousands of years ago,” Jungkook finally said, looking down. “Natal broke the sky and magic flowed in. It entered all dragons who slept in the mountains below. The magic manifested in different forms. A line of dragons known for compassion became healers. Another line, known for passion and wildness, became stormmakers. And another, always curious, became the shapeshifters.

“Human beings were originally from the south, but as they moved north, they encountered the dragons. Wars were fought between them, bloodier than any of our recent conflicts. Many were killed on both sides, until the head of the shifter dragons decided to become human.

“There was dissent amongst the dragons as to whether this was wise. Many did not like the idea of stooping to the humans’ level, but the shifter line proceeded despite their caution. Your kind founded Ashya and lived in peace for a while.

“Over time, changes took place. Small, at first – and then larger. Some of the shifters chose not to shift, even though they could. Some decided they preferred human form over dragon. In an important conflict, the shifters sided with humans. Certain lines of dragons deemed this to be unacceptable.

“The most feared magic amongst dragons was – and still is – that of the memory dragons. These dragons, though rare, can manipulate thought, memory and perception. As punishment for siding with the humans, they took away your memory of all dragons. Stole your ability to communicate while in dragon form. Over time, your kind have forgotten what you once were.

“It was a terrible punishment. One which has not been given since. That is the whole truth,” he finished quietly. “That is the knowledge which has been kept from your kind.”

Falling silent, Jungkook allowed time for his story to sink in. The forest around you was silent as well, as though it, too, were holding its breath.

You could only stare while struggling to comprehend. If what Jungkook said was true, then you were not different from other dragons – or, you were, but not in the ways you’d once thought. They were as intelligent, as cohesive, and knowledgeable as you were. More, perhaps, if they had hidden this from you for so long.

“And so, rider magic,” you said, a bit hoarse. “How…?”

“Ah.” Jungkook gave a wry smile. “The riders did not come until later. Call it Natal’s judgement, if you will. As time went on, some of the dragon lines grew more curious about humans. One of them somehow bonded with a human. This continued to occur until finally, the King of Duret Ghal himself became a dragon rider.”

“And the riders,” you said, trying to piece it together. “They can use their dragon’s magic?”

Jungkook nodded.

“And you speak to them?” The barest hint of wonder entered your voice. “Can you speak to all dragons?”

“Only the one we are bonded to,” Jungkook said, a bit softer.

“I see.”

He gave you a look. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“No. Well, yes,” you said as you shook your head. “You have given me much to think on, Your Majesty.”

Jungkook’s expression shuttered a bit at the formality, but he inclined his head. “Indeed, Your Majesty,” he responded.

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the dried sweat on his forehead from the energy spent healing you. Something had changed between you, and you did not know how you could turn back.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

Jungkook glanced up. “For what?”

“For many things, I suppose. For healing me. For trusting me with the truth. I owe you a life debt, Your Majesty.”

An unreadable look passed over his face. “I imagine there will be many life debts between us before this war comes to pass.”

He was not wrong and for a moment, you allowed yourself the luxury of imagining you might face this war together.

“A fair point,” you allowed.

Glancing past him, you surveyed the clearing. Nemrys must be nearby, or Jungkook would not have gotten to you so quickly. Suddenly, the prospect of meeting another dragon held an entirely different meaning. All this time, you had assumed them to be less intelligent than your own and had treated them as such. You could only imagine how little they thought of you.

Nemrys would likely be less thrilled to have you riding him, than you would be in the saddle.

“There is another reason I healed you,” Jungkook admitted.

You glanced his way in surprise. “And what reason was that?”

Jungkook walked closer, step by step until he was barely a foot away. Reaching out a hand, he adjusted his tunic where it fell on your frame. His thumb brushed your bare collarbone and in response to this, you barely suppressed a shiver.

“You said you did not know me.” Jungkook swallowed. “It seemed a shame for our time to be cut short before I could remedy this fact.”

With that, he dropped his hand and walked away.

You stared as he left, feeling utterly thrown until he spoke again.

“Follow me,” Jungkook called. “Nemrys is impatient. Not unusual for a dragon, but he does make a good point. People will be looking for us – I was expected back nearly an hour ago.”

Glancing overhead, you realized Jungkook was right based on the sun's position. It had risen nearly above the treetops, meaning Jimin would have people looking for you soon.

Jungkook kept going as you followed, striding from the clearing you’d made when you fell. It took only a few minutes before the trees had thinned enough for you to come face to face with Nemrys on the ground.

His scales were ebony in color, dark as the night sky above during the witching hour. Only one golden eye could focus on you at a time, but the one which did remained steady as you entered.

Nemrys did not seem happy to see you, and you did not blame him. Dragons were a territorial bunch, whether shifter or otherwise. If Nemrys considered you a threat to Jungkook, he would stop at nothing to protect his rider.

As you exited the forest, Jungkook looked up. “No,” he said sharply, walking around Nemrys’ side.

Curious, you turned and realized he wasn’t speaking to you.

“What did Nemrys say?” 

A growl left Nemrys’ throat, clawing at the ground with a single, curved talon.

Jungkook sighed in response, looking skyward. He seemed thoroughly exasperated, and it was one of the most natural expressions you’d seen on him thus far.

“Nemrys asked if you wished to ride in the saddle, or have him carry you,” Jungkook said at last, looking down.

Gaze narrowed, you turned your head to Nemrys. If you did not know any better, you could have sworn his upper lip curled. To be carried by a dragon meant to dangle upside down from their claw while they flew through the air.

“No, thank you,” you said, walking closer. “Although, I do have something I wish to say to Nemrys.”

Coming to a stop before him, you looked Nemrys in the eye. Nemrys slowly blinked, as though he were extremely uninterested in whatever you had to say.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice softening. “Thank you… for telling me, through him.”

Nemrys stilled.

“And for healing me,” you added, bowing your head. It was a sign of great trust to expose your neck to a dragon. “I cannot find the words to express my gratitude.”

After a moment, Nemrys exhaled and lowered his head as well. Glancing up, you met his gaze and felt something unspoken pass between you.

“He thinks you might find the saddle more comfortable,” Jungkook said, sounding a bit amused at the side.

Lips twitching, you took a step backwards and looked now at Jungkook. Nemrys snorted again, steam exhaled past his lips. In response to whatever he’d said, Jungkook’s cheeks turned a bit pink.

“What was that?” you asked, curious.

“Nothing.” Jungkook glared at the dragon. “Nemrys said we should go.”

Nemrys snorted once more, steam rising as he hauled himself to his feet. It did not seem Jungkook was telling you the entire truth, but the importance of this faded when you saw the saddle. It had not seemed as high when you were also a dragon.

“You sit up… there?” you asked, coming to a stop.

Jungkook hid his smile. “It isn’t as dangerous as it seems,” he insisted, placing a hand on the ladder. “You just climb all the rungs until you reach the top.”

Nodding, you placed one foot in the stirrup and firmly gripped the ladder. As you began to climb, hand over foot, you found yourself holding your breath. Eventually, you reached the top and swung a leg over.

“Careful,” Jungkook called from the ground. “I still want my healer to take a look at your shoulder.”

“I have healers, too,” you grumbled, settling onto the leather.

Jungkook climbed after you, swinging his leg over to land firmly behind you. His right hand found your waist, tugging you back until your spine met his chest. None other would dare touch the Queen in such a manner but then again, Jungkook was also a King.

“I know,” he said, his breath warm on your ear. “But mine are accustomed to dealing with magical healing.”

Unable to argue, you gripped the front of the saddle. Unconvincingly, you tried to make yourself believe it would be like riding a horse. Jungkook’s hand gripped your hip, distracting enough that you nearly forgot what you were doing.

As Nemrys bent and spread his wings, you forced your eyes shut. It was a silly thing, but you’d never flown through the skies when you were not the one in control.

You felt, rather than saw, when the ground fell away beneath you. Wind whistled past your ears, the force of gravity pressing you against Jungkook’s chest. He said nothing in response, merely curled his fingers into the hem of your tunic.

One you felt comfortable, you opened your eyes against the rushing wind.

For a moment, vertigo overtook you and you felt a bit nauseous. It felt wrong to fly in your human body, with nothing protecting you if you were to fall. The feeling only lasted a moment though, before you began to marvel at the landscape beneath you.

It looked different with your human vision – as a dragon, you could see UV as well as blue, red and green. Vision as a human was softer, the mountains before you a muted grey-green. Even the air felt colder without your dragon skin.

Unbidden, you shivered, and Jungkook’s hand tightened.

“It is different,” you breathed, staring hard at the ground.

Jungkook chuckled, low in your ear. “Different for me, too,” he admitted. “I have never flown with another person before.”

Startled, you turned and found his face close to yours. You had not thought about this when you moved, but now found yourself inches away from his lips.

“Never?” you murmured, your words caught by the wind.

“Never.”

Again, the same shiver swept your spine, so you forced yourself to face forward. The wind continued to blow, ferocious and cold, but Jungkook managed to stay warm behind you. Eyes drifting shut, you allowed yourself a moment to bask in his presence.

Only a moment before you pulled yourself together.

All too soon, you arrived at the castle courtyard. Landing in the open space by the gates, you realized a search party had already gathered. Sliding down from Nemrys, you barely paused to give thanks before hurrying on.

Midway to the castle, you saw Jimin break ranks as he jogged to see you. Scanning your frame, his silver-blonde hair blew haphazardly in the wind. Coming to a sudden stop, Jimin glanced past you, his eyes widening when he realized you’d come from Nemrys.

Before he could speak, Namjoon skidded to a stop beside him.

“Y/N,” he gasped, lowering both hands to his knees. “By the veil, you scared us.”

Guiltily, you turned. “I am sorry,” you told him. “I am fine, though. I promise. I apologize for making you worry.”

Jimin continued to stare at Nemrys. “Your Majesty. What –”

“It was my fault,” Jungkook interrupted, striding into the circle. He came to a stop alongside you, as though he belonged there. “I saw Her Majesty injure herself while out flying and insisted on escorting her back to the castle.”

Namjoon looked at you in alarm. “Is this true? Are you hurt?”

“Only a dislocation,” you assured him. “Nothing to worry about.”

Although Namjoon nodded, Jimin continued to frown.

“A dislocation,” he said slowly, his gaze flicking to yours. “While flying?”

“Momentarily blinded by the sun,” you explained. “Hit a cliff and was forced to shift back to human.”

“And… Jungkook saw?”

Both Jimin and Namjoon glanced at Jungkook, who jumped into the story without missing a beat.

“Nemrys has excellent vision,” he said with a shrug. “Better than I, that is for certain.”

Jimin still seemed suspicious, but he eventually nodded. “We are glad to see you safe, Your Majesty,” he said. “I will go and tell the search party to stand down.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Jimin began crossing the courtyard, leaving you alone with Namjoon and Jungkook. You fully intended to tell Namjoon and Jimin the truth, but now was not the right moment. Too many ears were listening.

“Is Yoongi furious?” you asked lowly. “How many meetings have I missed?”

Namjoon gave a rueful smile. “He will get over it. Your meetings for the morning have been postponed. The afternoon remains.”

“Good,” you said, stepping forward. “I will just –”

“Your Majesty,” Jungkook said, and you paused. “I did hope you would see the healer on my staff before returning to duty.”

He stood to your side, looking at you earnestly. Namjoon glanced between you; his surprise further increasing when you eventually nodded.

“His Majesty is correct,” you admitted. “I do feel fine, Namjoon, but it is better to be safe than sorry. I will have things to discuss with you after.”

Namjoon slowly nodded, seeming to understand. “Anything I need to know now?”

Glancing around, you ensured no one could hear. “A Mor patrol,” you said quietly. “Barely fifteen miles south. They were the true cause of my injury, but they are no longer a worry.”

Namjoon’s brow creased even further. “Are you certain you are alright? If it was a Mor patrol, you may have–”

“I am fine,” you cut in, quiet.

Namjoon hesitated before he nodded again. “Alright. I will have Jimin send soldiers to search the surrounding mountains.”

“Thank you. Tell Yoongi I will be up as soon as I can. And have Amara send me new clothes,” you added as you walked past. “I believe it sends the wrong message to wander around in His Majesty’s leathers.”

Namjoon nearly choked on his response while turning to leave.

“Well?” You glanced sideways, at Jungkook. “What are we waiting for?”

Turning his laugh into a cough, Jungkook began to walk forward. “Nothing,” he said.

Following his footsteps, you realized he went towards the guest entrance of the castle. Jungkook had not landed near the sheds, which made sense. Dragons and riders did not take kindly to one another. You supposed you and Nemrys now made the exception.

As you entered the halls of the castle, a draft brushed your exposed skin and you shivered. Pulling Jungkook’s clothes tighter, you considered the excuse he’d fed to Jimin.

“You said Nemrys saw me from the sky,” you said, breaking the silence.

Jungkook looked your way in surprise. “Should I have said something different? You did not seem inclined to discuss your injury out there.”

“No, you are correct. However, I now find myself wondering how did you see me this morning? Did you follow me from the castle, Your Majesty?”

Coming to a halt at the next corner, Jungkook turned sideways to face you.

His gaze flickered in torchlight. “Are you accusing me of following you?”

"Merely asking.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “If you must know, I was also out for my morning ride. I saw a Mor scout and had tracked them back to that mountain when I saw you get shot.”

“How very convenient,” you said, lifting your chin.

A muscle in his jaw ticked, stepping closer. “Is it?” he murmured. “I find it tiresome to have my honor continually called into question, Your Majesty.”

“Can you blame me?” you said. “You have kept many secrets from me, it would seem. Some are more substantial than others.”

“I also saved your life.”

“A debt I am well-aware of.”

A door creaked open down the hall.

“Oh – I am sorry,” a chestnut-haired man said, peeking out. “I heard arguing and wanted to make sure no one needed my help. Carry on!”

The man was about to duck back inside, when Jungkook held up a hand.

“Wait, Hoseok,” he said, not looking away from your gaze. “I need you to do something for me.”

The man – Hoseok, it seemed – paused halfway across the threshold. His gaze slid to yours, clearly recognizing you for who you were.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly.

Jungkook nodded, turning on his heel as he strode down the hall. You were left with no choice but to follow, glaring daggers at his retreating backside. Something about the King made your blood boil, making you see red as you traveled in his footsteps.

“This is my healer, Jung Hoseok,” Jungkook said, coming to a stop. “Hoseok, this is the Queen of Ashya. I would appreciate it if you looked at her shoulder.”

Hoseok hesitated, glancing past Jungkook to you. After a moment, he nodded and stepped inside. 

“Of course,” he said with a bow. “Please, come in.”

Inclining your head, you walked past Jungkook to enter. The space past him was tidy, though there was not much light to see by, aside from the fireplace. Possibly the room had belonged to an Ashyan healer, although you could not be certain. You rarely traveled into the guest wing.

Once Jungkook had joined you, Hoseok crossed the room to pull open a cabinet. Rummaging around, he set several jars on the counter.

Jungkook lingered by the door, leaning a shoulder to the wall to stare at the healer.

Deciding the best thing to do was ignore him, you glanced away. One minute the King was tender, binding your wounds with the utmost of care and the next, he seemed ready to bite your head off. It was maddening.

Glancing around, you took in herbs, linen, and jars of salve. On the hearth was a fire, crackling merrily beneath a large, copper pot. The scents of witch hazel and thyme filled the room, a natural antiseptic.

“Hoseok is the best healer in Duret Ghal,” Jungkook said, by way of introduction.

Hoseok snorted. “I do not know about that,” he said as he turned around.

“Careful.” Jungkook arched a brow. “Her Majesty may take you at your word and see an Ashyan healer instead.”

Hoseok made an unbecoming sound before he looked up, stricken. “I did not mean insult, Your Majesty,” he said, a bit panicked. “It is only –”

“It is alright,” you interrupted. “None of my healers are accustomed to wounds healed by magic. I would prefer you look at my wound, regardless of what you have to say about Ashya.”

Hoseok shot Jungkook a surprised glance, who nodded.

“The Queen’s wounds were severe,” Jungkook said quietly. “An iron bolt to the shoulder while in dragon form. She crashed through the forest and shifted on impact. Had lost a lot of blood when I arrived.”

“I see.” Hoseok glanced your way, sympathetic. “I am so sorry to hear it, Your Majesty.”

With anyone else, you might have thought the words sounded patronizing, but not with Hoseok. He had an earnest way about him; you imagined he couldn’t tell a lie to save his soul.

“I would not care to repeat the experience,” you admitted.

Briskly, Hoseok scanned your body. “Left shoulder?”

Surprised, you said, “Yes.”

He nodded, rolling up his sleeves to walk around the table. An empty jar stayed behind on the counter, the flames from the hearth casting flickering light on the floor.

Hoseok stopped. “In order to evaluate your arm, I will need you to remove the tunic, Your Majesty. Is this alright?”

You nodded, then glanced at Jungkook.

Cheeks a bit pink, he seemed to take the hint. “I will take my leave,” Jungkook said, his hand fumbling for the door. “Should you have further need of me, Your Majesty, you may send Hoseok to find me.”

“Which might be rather difficult,” Hoseok observed. “Given Hoseok is currently tending to Her Majesty’s injury.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes but hid a smile as he left. The door fell shut behind him, leaving you and Hoseok in total silence. With a rueful smile, he glanced your way.

“Apologies,” he said with a shrug. “Jungkook and I grew up together, so we tend to forget our formalities when others are present.”

“We?” you said, arching a brow. “It seemed you were the only one forgetting your manners, healer Jung.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened, unsure how to respond until you laughed.

“I am sorry,” you said with a smile. “It is cruel to tease when you do not know my nature.”

Hoseok paused before throwing his head back to laugh. Eyes shining, he wagged a finger in your direction as he walked away. “You are funny,” he said, pulling out a bowl. “It is no wonder the King seems to enjoy your company.”

“Is that so?”

Hoseok seemed not to hear your question, selecting some linen to lay on the counter. “There is a partition in the corner,” he said, nodding towards it. “Fabric is laid on the stool, so you can wrap it around your midsection for modesty.”

The partition was barely more than a folding screen, but it did the trick. Stripping free from Jungkook’s tunic, you folded it neatly and placed it on the stool. Winding the fabric around your breasts, you covered them tightly and stepped outside.

Glancing up as you exited, Hoseok set down his work. “You may sit on the stool,” he instructed. “That will do for the examination.”

Taking a seat, you waited for Hoseok to come around the counter. Gently, he took your wrist and turned it this way and that. Raising your arm, he examined its mobility until he seemed satisfied. Deft fingers moved up your arm, applying gentle pressure to several key points. When you failed to react, he prodded deeper.

Aside from the occasional twinge, you felt nothing unusual. After a while, Hoseok took a step back and nodded approval.

“Jungkook did a good job,” he said as he turned away.

“Is that all?��

“Not quite.” Hoseok stepped behind his table. “I will make you a salve, Your Majesty. This will ease any stiffness you may feel from the magical healing. Magic requires a great deal of energy, some of it yours. You may feel more tired than usual.”

“Oh,” you said, a bit thrown.

You had never questioned the toll of magic before. Yoongi had never complained about using his gift to help your council.

Pulling things from his cabinets, Hoseok began to mix and measure in a bowl. He was quiet for a while, content to do his work while you watched. After a while, he cleared his throat.

“I imagine it was a shock,” he said. “To be healed in such a manner.”

You stared at him a moment, unsure how to respond.

“It was… unexpected.”

Hoseok laughed as he looked up. “That is one way to put it,” he agreed. “The first time Jungkook healed me, I screamed like the veil was being torn apart. Thought he was trying to hex me.”

“Is such a thing even possible?” you said, smiling despite yourself.

Hoseok shrugged. “It seemed as likely as a rider having magic. I am sure Jungkook told you, but most in Duret Ghal are unaware of that particular secret.”

Silent, you nodded. Jungkook had, indeed, explained to you the image of magic in his homeland.

After a moment, Hoseok sighed. “The perceptions of Ghalians have changed greatly since the end of the Dragon Wars, but some of the fear remains. There are some who, no matter what we say, will believe magic and all Dragons are evil.”

“Not those His Majesty rides, though?”

Hoseok gave you a wry smile. “They do not view those dragons as the intelligent creatures you and I know them to be. Jungkook wishes to change that,” he said. “But it will be a difficult path. One he is determined to set upon.”

“I see.” You paused. “Forgive me for being blunt, but why are you telling me this?”

Hoseok resumed making the salve. “When Jungkook first revealed his magic to me, I was upset. He had lied. Kept something important from me for such a long time. It took me a while to understand that he, himself, did not always view his magic to be a gift.”

You stared at Hoseok a moment. 

Jungkook had seemed so confident when he healed you, and had always seemed different from the Ghalians who despised magic and Dragons. It had not occurred to you his reasons for keeping his magic a secret may have also been personal.

Hoseok was right. Changing perception within Duret Ghal would be difficult. Jungkook had taken a great risk by revealing his magic to you. A risk you did not wish to examine too closely for the moment.

“Is the examination finished?” you asked, rising from the stool.

Hoseok looked up in surprise. “Oh, yes. Feel free to get dressed, Your Majesty. I will finish this salve and send you on your way.”

You nodded and retreated behind the partition. Once you were no longer visible, you allowed yourself to fully breathe. Hoseok’s words painted a different picture of the Ghalian King. Magic had always been viewed as a gift in Ashya; you should have recognized the stigma elsewhere.

Unwinding the fabric from your torso, you returned to Jungkook’s clothing. His scent was everywhere, enveloping you fully.

It made you remember the ride with him on Nemrys, his body warm and solid behind you. Closing your eyes, you pushed this memory from mind. More and more, you found yourself considering Jungkook as a man instead of your enemy, and such thoughts were dangerous.

Fastening the belt, you stepped outside and found Hoseok waiting.

“Here,” he said, handing over a jar of salve. “If you need more, please send word and I shall bring it immediately.”

“You are too kind,” you said, accepting the bottle. “I appreciate your help, healer Jung.”

“Hoseok.”

“Hoseok,” you agreed with a nod.

Not wishing to overstay the welcome, you gave him a last smile and walked towards the door. One hand on the knob, you paused.

Hoseok looked up at your silence. “Yes?”

A thousand questions sprang to mind – silly, inane ones of no use to anyone. What Jungkook had been like as a child, why he’d once needed to heal Hoseok and reveal his magic. You found yourself wanting to know more, wanting to know him and again, this was dangerous.

“Nothing,” you said, pulling open the door. “Thank you again for your services.”

Hoseok nodded and smiled as you left the room. Amara was waiting for you in the hall, a fresh bundle of clothes in her arms.

“Thank Natal,” you sighed, taking the dress. “It would have caused a lot of talk had I worn the King’s clothing upstairs.”

Hiding her grin, Amara followed you inside the empty room across the corridor. Once the door was shut, she began to help you dress.

“Did you fall in a pond?” she asked innocently, tugging on your laces.

You winced while lifted your arms. “Nothing so exciting. I was caught unawares during my flight and needed to shift. My morning dress is still in the sheds, unfortunately.”

Amara nodded, finishing the final button as you turned around. “I will get it,” she said, gathering Jungkook’s clothes and the salve to exit the room.

Left alone with your thoughts, you hesitated a moment before following suit.

Jungkook had not waited for you.

You were not sure why this mattered. It didn’t – it should not and yet, you couldn’t stop the sinking feeling it somehow did. Shoving the feeling aside, you managed to seem unruffled by the time you reached your first meeting.

The day only grew longer from there.

When people imagined the duties of the crown, they typically thought of the more extraordinary parts. Being coronated, going to war, grand marshalling parades and the like.

The reality of ruling was far less glamorous. It was one tedious decision after another, with the most minute turn of phrase sparking ire or admiration. It was sitting through meeting after meeting while you listened to weather reports, updates from mines and concerns about a two and a half percent tariff still being too high.

By the time your meetings ended, the sun had long since sunk below the horizon. Wearily, you returned to your rooms and tried to forget the day. It did not seem possible only this morning, you’d feared for your life while bleeding out in the forest.

The only thing which drove you on was the thought of shutting yourself in your chambers, sinking into a bath and closing your eyes. A wish which seemed destined to be thwarted, you saw when you entered.

Min Yoongi had seated himself in an armchair by the fire, his expression steeled like a weapon of war.

“We need to talk,” he said simply.

Coming to a stop at the table, you inspected the salve Hoseok had made. He had not given any instructions on how to apply it, and you wondered if you should have Amara find out.

“Do we?” you said, lifting your gaze to his. “Need I remind you who amongst us wears the crown, Lord Yoongi?”

“And need I remind you which of us pays the other for their counsel?”

Hiding a smile, you pulled out a chair. As much as Ashya’s stability depended on your authority, you were not above thinking yourself impervious to counsel. If Yoongi had something he wished to speak to you about, it was likely important.

“Shall I guess what this is about?” you asked. “Or, are you going to eventually tell me?”

Yoongi did not waste your time. “What happened this morning?”

“I was injured during a flight.”

He made a noise of dismissal. “Are you truly telling me the Queen of Ashya was injured on a routine flight? That you spotted a Mor patrol and became so distracted, you crashed into a mountainside and dislocated your shoulder? Again,” he said, gaze hardening. “What happened?”

Slowly, you exhaled. “The truth is far less believable.”

“Try me.”

And so, you explained. Everything. Your flight this morning, the Mor patrol which had shot you down from the sky. The way you shifted to human before Jungkook arrived to heal you. You told Yoongi about Jungkook having magic, as did all riders. You explained about the different dragon lines, how they all had magic and were not unintelligent, as you had previously assumed.

Once you had finished, Yoongi stared at you and blinked. “That…” He shook his head. “Is equally insane, but at least you are now telling me the truth.”

He had questions then – many of them, and you soon settled into a familiar rhythm. Planning for different eventualities, laying out who to tell and when. Yoongi, along with Namjoon, were your sounding boards for strategy. When you’d given all the answers you could possibly provide, Yoongi fell silent, staring into the fire.

At last, he stood and walked towards the window. Pouring whiskey from a crystal decanter, he swirled this in one hand before he returned.

“This will change things,” Yoongi said, taking a sip of his drink.

“It will.”

“If what you say is true,” he said slowly. “We have acquired an entire new arsenal against Mor. Who knows what kinds of magic lie within their rider ranks? There has not been a healer born for many decades in Ashya.”

“Some of them will be passive powers,” you warned.

Yoongi waved a hand. “It is still a gift. Still magic. In all Jimin’s plans, he has only accounted for the gifts of humans between us. That number will now double! Triple, even.”

“His Majesty only revealed his magic to me because he was forced,” you countered. “We cannot count on them in upcoming battles with Mor. He could still decide otherwise.”

Yoongi gave you a look. “He said he was planning to reveal it after the treaty was signed, yes?”

“Yes, but –”

“But what, Your Majesty?” Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “What reason do you have now not to trust the King? What lie could you possibly have prepared for me this evening?”

Freezing in place, you could only stare. Yoongi seldom spoke to you like this. For one, you were his Queen and for another, he usually understood you better than to yell.

After a moment, Yoongi sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. He looked tired, you realized. Hoseok’s words from earlier came to mind, about how magic required new energy. You wondered how much Yoongi had used his gift these past few weeks.

“I am sorry,” Yoongi said, and looked as though he meant it. “I did not mean to sound so harsh.”

Choosing not to respond, you waited instead for him to elaborate. Yoongi rarely said things without meaning them.

Closing his eyes, the dark of his lashes dusted paler cheekbones. The veins in his eyelids were prominent, stark against the rest of his skin.

“It can be exhausting to have a gift like mine,” Yoongi said quietly. “All day, I can sense other people’s emotions, yet cannot shut them out. It can be useful, but it is also tiresome. Oftentimes, I am not sure which emotions are mine. It is especially trying,” he said, eyes opening, “when someone continuously lies in my presence.”

“Me?” you said, taken aback. “When have I lied to you, Yoongi?”

Yoongi stared into his glass for a moment, seemingly weighing the consequences of whatever it was he had to say.

“Each time you say you do not wish to marry the King.”

You went still, staring at him from across the table. Within the confines of your chest, your heart began to beat faster.

“I do not mean you are lying on purpose,” Yoongi said, then paused. “Or maybe you are. It can be hard for me to tell. All I know is your emotions are murky each time you speak, as though you are battling something inside.”

“You think… I desire to marry His Majesty?”

Yoongi considered for a minute. “I do not know,” he admitted.

“And yet, you presume to know a great deal,” you said, drumming your fingers on the table. “Why would I turn the King down if I wished to marry him?”

“I am sure I could not say.”

“Hazard a guess.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.” He took a long sip of his drink. “When you are around Jungkook, your emotions get lighter. Happier. And yet, there is sorrow as well. I do not know if this is because of His Majesty, or the idea of marriage itself.”

Staring at Yoongi, you refused to move. He was dangerously close to hitting upon something important. Something you’d worked tirelessly to hide, even from yourself.

“Is it Leo?” Yoongi asked, a bit gentler. “Do you still love him?”

Yoongi had not served with you in the army, but he knew about your former love. Early on in your reign, you’d asked Yoongi to go about certain steps to protect Leo from harm.

“No,” you exhaled. “It has been a long time since I chose my path, and he chose his.”

“Pride, then. Perhaps you do not like the idea of ruling beside someone else.”

“It is not that,” you muttered.

“Hm.” Yoongi tilted his head. “That is the truth.”

“Stop doing that,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“Perhaps it is the idea of losing your independence, then. Or possibly…” Yoongi paused as something seemed to occur to him. “Ah.”

“What? What is it?”

“It is the mating bond, is it not?”

Going utterly still, you stared at him from across the table.

“Y/N,” Yoongi said softly. “Not all marriages occur with a mating bond. Not all loves do, either. And it is still possible Jungkook could be your mate. Humans have mated with Dragons before. It is not impossible for him to–”

Realizing what he meant then, a laugh left your lips. It sounded bitter, even to you. Yoongi thought you didn’t want to marry Jungkook because he wasn’t your mate. He thought you wanted to marry for love, when the truth was the exact opposite.

“I know it is possible,” you gasped, interrupting. “I know it is possible because Jungkook is my mate, Yoongi. I have known this fact since I was seventeen and visited him for the treaty.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened as you pressed on.

“I felt it even then,” you whispered, the words pouring out. “It was hardly anything at that age, barely more than a brush of energy against my skin, but… I knew. I knew the mating bond lay between us.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of what you’d said settling over the table. Eventually, Yoongi managed to shake himself free from his stupor.

“Then what is the problem?” he demanded. “If you two are mates, surely this is even more reason for you to accept his proposal. It must be a sign from Natal.”

Jaw clenched, you looked away. The mere thought of accepting the bond brought a dull roar to your ears, twisting your insides into knots. You could never forget what occurred after your trip to Duret Ghal, nor the solemn vow you had made at your coronation.

“I cannot marry him,” you said stiffly.

Incredulity entered Yoongi’s gaze. “But Y/N –”

“I cannot,” you said, turning your head. “Yoongi, you know as well as I do how bonds like this end. How it looks, how it feels for someone to lose their mate. I vowed when I accepted the crown it would be the only constant in my life.”

Pity filled Yoongi’s gaze as realization dawned.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment. “You are not your father.”

The silence in the room drew as taut as a bowstring.

“It killed him,” you whispered. “The loss of my mother killed my father. You know this to be true. It may have taken him five years, but from the moment she died, he began to die as well. I cannot – I will not – do that to myself, or to Ashya.”

Yoongi stared at you a moment before he looked away.

It was a silent truth acknowledged throughout the Kingdom. Dragons had a long lifespan, but the mating bond was something other and strange. It only occurred once in a lifetime and was a love so deep, so true that to lose one’s mate was to lose oneself.

Your father had tried, at least. He’d stayed alive for you, for his Kingdom, but it had not been enough in the end. After five years of trying, he’d finally given in.

It was why you’d enlisted after your mother’s death. You had seen how her loss was killing your father and could not bear to be around for the process.

When you finally returned to accept the crown, you’d made your vow. The same fate would not befall you. You would not become your father and leave Ashya at risk. You would not accept the mating bond – which meant you would not accept Jungkook.

Even if every fiber of your being wished to do so.

Jungkook was not yet fully your mate. He needed to be aware of the bond, for one and you needed to accept it, for another. Tendrils already existed, but it was not the same thing as the full bond in place. Once you accepted, there would be no return.

“Not everyone views their mate as a bad thing,” Yoongi said quietly.

Startled, you looked up. “They are fools, then.”

He frowned at his glass. “Are we not all fools in love, though?”

“Precisely the reason I do not care to accept it.”

Smiling sadly, Yoongi lifted his drink and drained the rest. His expression shifted from resignation to thoughtfulness while he set down his glass.

“They say the loss of a mate is akin to ripping one’s heart from their chest,” he mused. “They say it is an unbearable pain, one which cannot be endured.”

“Are you trying to help me?”

He paused. “I only wonder… for such unimaginable pain, there must be unimaginable beauty before it. What could be so wonderful that to be without it would be close to death?” Yoongi shook his head. “Maybe the loss of a mate has no parallel because its happiness has no parallel, either.”

Struck by this statement, you looked into the fire.

“It is not a bad thing to want happiness, Your Majesty.”

Brow furrowed, you continued to stare at the leaping flames. It was not a bad thing to want happiness, but the mating bond had never meant such a thing to you.

Not until Jungkook. When he had arrived a week prior, you’d kept him at arm’s length for two reasons. One had been his title and Duret Ghal’s legacy, but the other had been self-preservation.

You could not miss what you did not know. Unfortunately, each passing day brought you closer together and you feared when he left, it would tear your heart from your chest.

Still, it was better than accepting him as your mate.

Yoongi stood from the table and stretched his arms overhead. Looking up, you appreciated the silence he gave you. The truth of the bond was something you hadn’t told anyone. To share it with him felt like a weight lifted.

“There are more negotiations tomorrow,” Yoongi said, returning to business. “With the secret of the riders’ magic revealed, we will need to factor this into our military discussions.”

“Agreed,” you said quietly.

Yoongi considered you a moment longer before he turned around. As he reached the door, Yoongi paused on the threshold.

“I understand your hesitance, Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “I would not blame you if you decided not to accept him. It is only for your happiness I urge you to reconsider. Not all of us are gifted with a mate,” he said simply, and walked out the door.

As the door shut behind him, you stared at the wood.

You remained seated for some time, listening to your heartbeat, and imagining it entwined with someone else’s. This was the second secret of yours only Yoongi knew.

The other was you hadn’t wanted to accept the throne at all.

When your father had died, you’d been content to stay in the armed forces, living a life of anonymity while you served Ashya. You had planned on relinquishing the crown, but Yoongi had known and convinced you to return. He’d been the one to talk some sense into you, saying if you truly wished to serve Ashya, you’d do so best in the role you’d been born into – as its Queen.

Duty had been thrust upon you sooner than it should have; yet another reason why you resented the bond. You should not have become Queen when you did. You should not have had to accept the burden so soon and yet, you had. It had been the right course and you deeply loved this nation.

It was why you refused to put Ashya through such a thing again.

And yet, you could not help but think upon Yoongi’s words. It was not a bad thing to want happiness for yourself.

After a long time, you roused yourself from the table and went to bed.

The first time you’d felt the bond had been at the cliffs, although you had not realized what it was at the time.

It had only been later, in the middle of Duret Ghal’s gardens, you understood the gravity of what you felt for Jungkook. Or rather, what you one day might feel.

After the day you spent riding, you’d began to notice Jungkook’s presence more and more. He could usually be found in one of two places – in the palace library or out on his dragon, Nemrys. You had found yourself watching for him, somehow attuned to his presence.

Even with all this, the magnitude had not stricken you until the night of the ball. On the last night of your trip, Duret Ghal decided to celebrate both your betrothal and the anticipated treaty. No expense had been spared for the evening. Even now, you remembered the sounds of the orchestra playing, chandeliers bright above as the people laughed and danced.

At some point, you’d searched for the Prince and found him no longer inside. Curious, your search had led you out the northern doors, onto a patio which overlooked the gardens below.

Duret Ghal had been colder than Ashya, but during the summer the evening air had been pleasantly cool. Wandering away from the castle, you’d drifted amongst the flowers until you came upon him.

Jungkook had faced away from you, his hands clasped behind his back while he watched the tree above with its delicate, orange blossoms. His eyes had been closed; wayward, dark strands of hair blown over his face.

Realizing you’d intruded upon a personal moment, you turned to take your leave, and stepped on a twig. 

Jungkook’s eyes had flown open and when he saw you, he smiled.

The sight sent such simmering warmth through your chest, you’d nearly stopped breathing. White-hot energy blazed across your skin, brightening the world while you basked in his gaze.

That had been the moment you realized. Jungkook was your mate.

“I – I am sorry,” you’d stammered, turning to leave. “I am intruding–”

“Not at all.” Jungkook’s gaze sought yours in darkness. “Please. Stay.”

After a moment of consideration, you had acquiesced. The closer you moved, the more aware you’d become of his energy. Suddenly, all the wives’ tales and legends about mating made sense. The bond had been real, and you felt it for Jungkook.

Jungkook had smiled at you, then returned to the flowers. “Were you also tired of the people gathered inside?” 

“Yes,” you’d murmured.

None of the people inside had been him.

Forcing yourself to look up, you had focused on the tree. It was not a species native to Ashya; its delicate, floral scent was unfamiliar. Between its boughs, the night stars had peered down. Legends said stars were where Natal’s veil was thinnest and otherworldly magic seeped through the cracks. You liked to imagine stars held some kinship to dragons.

Jungkook had cleared his throat. “I must admit,” he’d said. “You are not at all what I imagined you to be.”

“No?”

You had turned sideways to face him in the moonlight.

“Not that it is a bad thing, mind you.”

Heart racing, you you’d smiled. Jungkook had looked your way, his expression gentle in the light from above.

“It is not?” you had whispered.

Turning fully to face you, Jungkook had stepped closer. His right hand flexed at his side, as though he had yearned to reach out and touch you.

“No,” he’d admitted.

His gaze had dropped to your lips.

Your throat had gone dry. “What were you expecting?”

“I do not know,” he’d said. “I thought I might resent you. For taking away my choice to marry. For forcing me to become King before I was ready. For reminding me duty will always be greater than our happiness.”

Each word he said had sunk your heart like a stone. It had been how you’d felt at the start of your journey, but perhaps not then.

“Now though,” he’d said, and you lifted your gaze.

“Now?”

Without quite meaning to, you’d drifted closer. The space between you had lessened to several inches, the heat from his body near-tangible.

“Now,” Jungkook had said, barely audible. “I find myself intrigued by what the future will hold.”

Before you could respond to this, before you could say you felt the same, a shout had echoed throughout the gardens.

“Prince Jungkook!” someone had called.

Springing apart, your heart had protested the movement. You had known then exactly who Jungkook was. He was your mate, your betrothed and for a fleeting moment, the world seemed a magical place.

One month following, his Uncle had staged his rebellion.

Soon after, you’d learned what the mating bond truly meant.

The world had not seemed quite so wondrous after that.

“So.” Jimin arched a brow. “I assume you have brought us out at this unseemly hour to do more than stare at one another through the mist, Your Majesty.”

Giving Jimin a withering look, you chose not to respond.

Yesterday had been full of meetings with little importance to the Ghalian treaty. After telling Yoongi of your vow and bond, you’d found yourself more aware of Jungkook’s presence than ever before.

Everything which had taken place over the past forty-eight hours resulted in three facts. The first being, you could not afford to spend more time in the King’s presence. Already, your façade of indifference was crumbling and would only worsen as time went on.

Second, Mor had become bolder in their travels north. It would only be a matter of time before war arrived on your borders. You needed to be prepared.

Which led you to your third point. Jungkook’s reveal of magic could turn the tide of the war; it needed to be factored into your discussions as soon as possible. Which was why you’d asked Jungkook to bring whomever he deemed appropriate to the field this morning.

Glancing around, you found Jungkook looking back. He was dressed in his flying leathers again, simple armor reinforced at the joints with lighter metal. No breastplate, his hair unadorned and a broadsword strapped firmly across his back.

He’d brought Taehyung with him, along with the woman rider you’d seen at the feast and Lord Seokjin. The last one had surprised you, since you hadn’t thought Seokjin a rider. From Ashya, you’d brought Jimin, Namjoon and Yoongi.

“We are not here to stare,” you explained to Jimin. “But to fly.”

Jimin hesitated. “With each other,” he clarified.

It was not a question but a statement, and the woman rider across the circle seemed to share in his sentiment. She stared distrustfully at the group gathered on your side.

Yoongi squinted up at the sky. “Why am I here, then?” he wondered aloud.

“To observe,” you informed.

“Scintillating,” he said, looking down.

Namjoon laughed as several other people attempted to hide their smiles. Ignoring all this, you focused instead on Jungkook’s delegation.

“I believe I have met everyone except you,” you said, looking at the woman.

“Maia,” she said, boldly meeting your gaze. “I am a rider in His Majesty’s forces.”

“One of our best,” Jungkook added, as Taehyung nodded.

Maia had large, dark eyes and short hair bound in a plait down her neck. Her features were pretty, delicate in contrast to her hardened exterior. You respected her for being in the delegation but found yourself appreciating her even more for her no-nonsense response.

Nodding once, you looked away. The pride in Jungkook’s voice when he spoke had not escaped you; nor had the way Maia glanced in his direction, as though pleased by the mention.

Jungkook was not yours to want, you reminded yourself. You’d made sure of this with the vow you continued to uphold. Still, you felt your jaw clench as you refocused on your surroundings.

“Is this a serious request?” Jimin asked in disbelief. “You truly wish for us to fly alongside the riders.”

Pointedly, Seokjin cleared his throat. “I believe it is not considered polite to question the Queen’s sanity in her presence?”

Jimin glanced at him, stunned as Yoongi started to laugh. His smile widened, eyes nearly disappearing when Jimin turned to face him, incensed.

“What?” Yoongi snorted. “That was funny.”

“Regardless,” you said, a bit louder. “There is much to discuss. His Majesty has shared information about the riders, their dragons and what they can do which may change the battle against Mor.”

Maia’s glanced at Jungkook in disbelief, and she was not the only one. Taehyung also turned his head sharply, which surprised you. You had thought Jungkook would tell his general he’d revealed his magic in the woods.

It appeared not. Seokjin was the only one who did not look surprised, examining the nails on the back of his hand.

“What the riders can do,” Namjoon said, picking up on the key phrase. “I assume you refer to something other than flying, Your Majesty?”

“I do, yes.”

When you looked at Jungkook, he nodded.

“She is referring to our ability to use magic,” he explained. “The bond which links rider to dragon allows us to do more than just ride them. It grants us access to their magic, similar to humans who are born with a gift.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened, as did Jimin’s.

Both listened as Jungkook went on to explain the history of dragons and magic on the continent. When Jungkook healed a paper cut Namjoon had on his thumb, your advisor gasped and looked on in wonder.

“A healer.” He shook his head. “Truly amazing. How large of an injury can you heal?” Namjoon asked, and you knew he was already thinking ahead to battle.

Someone like Jungkook behind the front lines, healing soldiers as they were injured, could provide an untold advantage.

“He healed me in the woods the other day,” you informed them. “A Mor patrol shot me down with a crossbow, and His Majesty saved my life.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. “It would seem we are in your debt then, Your Majesty,” he told Jungkook, seeming displeased by the thought.

Jungkook merely shook his head.

“Let us not speak of debt, Jimin,” you said before Jungkook could speak. “If we are to work together, we must stop thinking of our relationship as a ledger. Instead, we must learn to work as a unit.”

Yoongi arched a brow, clearly amused by your shifted stance.

“Hence our flying this morning,” Jungkook agreed.

Looking his way, you nodded.

This was what you’d decided after your conversation with Yoongi. Although you had not changed your mind about accepting Jungkook’s proposal, the least you could do was set aside your own differences. If you chose not to accept him as your mate, that was your decision – but first and foremost, you were Ashya’s Queen.

You had made a vow to do whatever you could for your country, and this meant working closely with the Ghalians.

“Is it only healing magic?” Namjoon asked, sounding curious. “Or are there other kinds?”

Rather than answer, Jungkook looked at Taehyung, who rolled up his sleeves. Walking out of the circle, he came to a stop several paces away.

“There are other kinds of magic,” Taehyung said, and it was one of the first times you’d ever heard him speak.

Taehyung’s voice had a deep, earthen quality. It was soothing, rhythmic and you stared at him with interest as he spread his hands.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Taehyung closed his eyes and storm clouds began to gather. You stared at the sky as it darkened, russet-tipped thunderheads swirling overhead. As the wind whipped his hair, Taehyung opened his eyes and you saw they’d turned silver.

A bolt of lightning shot from his palms, lighting the sky above a deep purple. He let the tempest continue until his point had been made. Then, teeth gritted, Taehyung lowered his arms and allowed the clouds to disperse. As quickly as they’d come, the clouds disappeared, leaving only mist and the rising sun.

Everyone from Ashya stared.

“His dragon is a stormmaker,” Jungkook explained. “It is rare for one of their kind to bond with a human. It has not happened within living memory.”

Yoongi was the first to regain himself. “Do all riders have magic?”

“No,” answered Maia. “It is similar to when a Dragon and human have a child. The child does not always have a gift. It is the same with riders and dragons. I, for example, have no magic.”

“Yes, but you have a dragon,” Yoongi pointed out, which made her smile.

“I do have that,” she acknowledged.

Almost sheepish, Taehyung rejoined the circle with his hands in his pockets. His gaze had returned to dark brown, but you could not seem to shake the memory of silver. It was a tremendous power you could use on the battlefield.

Abruptly, you turned to Jungkook. “How were you planning to keep that a secret?” you demanded, waving a hand. “I should think it would have been obvious once your rider started throwing lightning around.”

“Hence why we planned on explaining after the treaty,” Jungkook said mildly.

“All this time.” Namjoon finally found his voice. “Magic in Duret Ghal has been passed down by the riders, not Dragons?”

“Both,” Seokjin corrected. “Riders cannot pass on their magic to their children. It is only the offspring of Dragon and human who can be born with gifts. Like your advisor,” he said, nodding to Yoongi.

Yoongi arched a brow. You had not spoken openly about his magical abilities, but you supposed word got around.

Namjoon continued to frown. “Most peculiar,” he said slowly. “When a shapeshifting Dragon mates with a human, their offspring can inherit one of many magical gifts. Not just shapeshifting.”

“Uzza, my dragon, has a theory about that,” Taehyung offered. “He believes dragons have a more fixed nature than humans. When magic is passed down through dragons, it remains the same, but with humans… we are more fluid.” He paused, then shrugged. “Magic becomes whatever form the human is closest to.”

“Fascinating,” Namjoon breathed.

“Which is why I asked the King and his riders to join us this morning,” you announced. “Once the treaty is finalized, we will fight together against Mor. It is time we learned how to use everything in our arsenal.”

Jimin, who had remained silent throughout the demonstration, finally nodded.

Despite his personal feelings towards Duret Ghal, he would always place Ashya above all else. If the magic of the riders was something you could use to your advantage, Jimin would be the one who figured out how to do it.

Still, you knew this must hurt. You were not the only one who noticed Jimin’s reticence. Taehyung had been watching your commander from across the circle, and he now cocked his head as he took a step forward.

“You are Park Jimin, are you not?” he asked.

Jimin met Taehyung’s gaze. “I am.”

Taehyung nodded. “I have heard stories of you, both on and off the battlefield. Neither of us led our respective armies when your father was killed,” he said, a bit quieter. “But all the same, I am sorry for your loss.”

Jimin’s eyes glinted. “Sorrow does not bring back the dead.”

“No, it does not.”

Jimin stared at him a moment, until some of the anger faded from his gaze. Finally, he looked at the castle and exhaled.

“Are we to fly this morning?” he asked, returning to you. “If we are, we should probably go before the sun gets too high.”

You nodded, uncertain what had just transpired.

“We should leave, then.” Jimin turned away. “I will need to know the full capabilities of your riders. General Kim,” he called out as he walked. “Can you control the lightning, or merely call it?”

Taehyung fell into step alongside him, discussing strategy as they left the field. You watched them go, amazed Jimin had released his past so easily.

Namjoon sighed. “Must I fly as well, Your Majesty?”

You hid a smile. “If you truly wish to stay on the ground…”

Grumbling beneath his breath, Namjoon turned to follow Jimin across the field. You knew you should go as well, but something within seemed to hold you back.

“And what about you?” you asked, glancing at Seokjin. “Are you a rider?”

Seokjin grimaced. “No, Your Majesty. My mother sent me to the bonding ceremony, but all I succeeded in was falling off several dragons.”

“It is where we met though,” Jungkook said, jumping in. “I admired his honesty and wit. Enough that, when I became King, I requested Lord Seokjin be appointed to my closest court.”

“His honesty has been well-noted,” Yoongi said drily.

Maia laughed, her features losing some of their earlier tension. Yoongi glanced her way in surprise, a pleased flush spreading across his cheeks.

In the background, the steady beat of wings filled the air. When you turned, you saw Jimin in Dragon form rising above the sheds. His scales were a dazzling gold, sparkling as he flew across the morning sun.

Taehyung had joined atop his dragon, Uzza. Uzza had scales of slate grey, faded to blue along his spine and his shoulders.

As you watched them both fly, a bout of longing swept through you. Seeing a rider and Dragon fly alongside one another had not been something deemed possible before.

Their wings were swiftly drowned out by Nemrys’ arrival, who circled once overhead before landing beside Jungkook. Bowing, you kept your gaze fixed on his. Nemrys inclined his head in turn, then released a snort.

Jungkook grinned. “He wishes to know if you plan on being shot again.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to walk away. Jungkook laughed at the sight, the sound of it echoing as you crossed the field.

Once inside a shed, you stripped quickly from your gown and laid this on the bench. Only a few days ago, you’d assumed dragons mostly unintelligent and now, one of them was insulting you. The realization made you smile.

It made the world seem wider, somehow. As though more things were possible than you’d previously thought.

Shifting quickly to Dragon form, you lifted from the ground and hovered above the sheds. In the distance, you could see Taehyung alongside Jimin on his dragon. Glancing west, you spotted Namjoon and Maia rising to join them.

Namjoon’s scales were a deep purple, a jewel-tone Ashyan miners would envy. Maia’s dragon, whom you did not know the name of, was a grey pale enough to be confused with blue. As you flew towards their group, Taehyung pointed from his dragon, Uzza.

Craning your neck, you saw Jungkook on the ground. He watched from below, wind whipping his hair as Nemrys beat his wings. Leaning down, he murmured something to Nemrys, who bent his legs and took off. Far below, you heard Seokjin whoop.

With a roar, Jimin dove towards the ground. Taehyung followed suit, along with Namjoon and Maia. Once Jungkook had reached you atop Nemrys, you joined in the show.

It was strange to fly as a group. Dragons were solitary creatures, only banding together when necessary for survival. When you did fly with others, you communicated through a combination of flame and roars, signaling what direction you were about to take.

Soaring higher, you turned your head and saw Jungkook beside you. From the back of Nemrys, he grinned and something warm bloomed in your chest. You recalled what it felt like to fly with him, against him. Something within you ached to feel this again.

This was not the time to reminisce though, so you attempted to focus on the moment at hand. That first flight didn’t last long – you were still monarchs, after all, and the day remained before you. Still, your heart felt lighter when you landed on the ground.

For a first foray between nations, things had gone relatively smoothly. Even Yoongi seemed pleased by the progress, speaking with Taehyung and Jimin as they returned to the castle. The success of today made the impossible seem possible.

Including some things you’d never let yourself imagine.

Jungkook’s face while he flew, his eyes bright and smile wide, played like a loop again and again in your mind.

After another full day of negotiations, the treaty between you and Duret Ghal began to come together. It was a good thing, since Jungkook and his delegation would leave in the next couple of days.

Preparing for sleep that night, you reached for the jar of salve Hoseok had given you and found it empty. You’d applied it every morning and night, whenever the muscle ached, or you found yourself tired. It had helped a great deal, so now you hesitated. Flying this morning had been strenuous on your muscles.

Amara had left, gone to visit her family in the city for the evening. In her absence, you strode across your room and opened the door to the hall. You instructed one of your guards to bring the empty jar to Hoseok and ask for a refill.

While you waited for them to return, you changed into a nightgown and robe. You had just finished washing your face when a knock came from the hall. Expecting the guard returned with your salve, you strode from your chambers and pulled open the door.

You found yourself face to face not with a guard, but with Jungkook.

“Your Majesty,” you said, freezing in place. “I – to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, then pulled a jar from behind his back. “I brought the salve from Hoseok,” he said. “I heard you were in need of more.”

“I am.” You blinked. “But you did not need to do that.”

His gaze searched yours, lingering when he dropped to your parted robe. Although you wore a nightgown beneath, you were suddenly aware of the sheer material.

Hastily, you closed the robe tighter.

Cheeks reddening, Jungkook looked up. “It was no trouble,” he said, only to pause. “May I come in, Your Majesty? I do have something I wish to discuss.”

“Ah, so there is an ulterior motive.”

Despite the humor in your voice, you hesitated. Glancing past him, you saw your guards and decided whatever Jungkook had to say, it was best to hear it in private.

“Alright,” you said, stepping aside. “You may come in.”

Surprise crossed his face, though it quickly disappeared. Nodding his thanks, Jungkook entered the room as you shut the door. You stared at it for a moment, gathering your courage before you turned around.

You’d brought many men to your chambers over the years. Yoongi had been in here only the other night, but something about Jungkook’s presence felt different. He was too big, taking up a space no one else could.

Perhaps it was this bond you felt for him, this tingling down your spine at having him so near. Your very soul ached for him, even as you denied him.

Jungkook wandered inside, taking in the décor. A fireplace took up much of the north wall, light flickering over the rug at your feet.

Coming to a stop at the table, Jungkook set down the jar.

“Why did you come?” you asked quietly.

Turning around, Jungkook found your gaze.

You realized the very real danger you were in. Not because Jungkook was your mate. He was, yes, but it was so much more than that. You genuinely enjoyed his company. You found yourself listening for his remarks when you sat by his side, trying not to laugh whenever he made a joke.

It was hard to separate the supernatural from the natural when it came to Jungkook. In a world where mates did not exist and souls were cast adrift, you thought you might have loved him even then. 

Perhaps this was the true magic of the mating bond, after all. Rather than let you wonder, Natal brought you an equal, someone who’d uplift your spirit rather than drag you under.

“You asked for additional salve,” Jungkook said again.

“I did.” You cocked your head. “A servant could have brought that, though – or Hoseok, if he chose.”

“Indeed, he could have.”

A shadow crossed Jungkook’s expression at this, gone before it could be fully realized. He took a step closer, skirting the table to come to a stop. With his height what it was, you were forced to look upwards to see him.

“The soldiers Jimin sent to search the mountains returned this afternoon,” Jungkook informed you. “They found no other Mor patrols so close to Ashya.”

“That is good to know,” you said with a nod. “We will need all the time we can to formulate a plan of attack.”

Thus far, Mor had made no overt advances against you. There had been skirmishes on the southern border, a few miles gained or lost with occasional pushes, but nothing serious. Mor’s full army remained within their own land, biding their days until they chose to strike.

It was only a matter of time before things boiled over. It made sense for Jungkook to discuss Mor’s movements with you, but he’d never visited your chambers to do so before.

“Is there something else you came here to say?” 

Jungkook arched a brow. “Is it possible I might have come simply to enjoy your presence?”

“You could have.”

“Then, what is the problem?”

“The problem,” you said, narrowing your gaze, “is you seem to be the kind of person who says one thing and means another.”

His gaze darkened. “I suppose you would know, Your Majesty.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Rather than answer this, Jungkook turned away. Staring out the window, he seemed to consider his words before he turned back.

“You are a conundrum, Your Majesty,” he said at last.

You sniffed. “That sounds like something a man might say when he does not understand a woman.”

“You are right,” Jungkook said lowly. “For I do not understand you at all.”

This made you blink. It was your own words from the night of the feast, thrown back in your face.

“In what way?” you demanded.

“We knew each other before, and yet you pretend to be strangers. You fight so valiantly for your own kind and yet, keep them at arm’s length. You decline my proposal of marriage,” he said, taking a step closer, “and yet, you consider a political union with another.”

You stared at him for a moment, utterly thrown. “A union with whom?”

“Lord Declan.”

A laugh escaped before you could help it. “Lord Declan is not my betrothed.”

“He tells people he is.”

“Then he is a liar,” you ground out.

Jungkook paused. “Did you consider his offer?”

“I considered your offer, as well.”

“Which you declined.”

“I shall decline him as well, should he ever gather the courage to actually ask me.”

Jungkook hesitated at this, curiosity entering his gaze.

“Why, though?” he asked, a tad softer. “Why decline everyone who asks for your hand? Is there someone else? The man who taught you to sign in the army, perhaps.”

At this, your eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Merely a guess,” Jungkook said quietly.

Looking abruptly away, he rubbed his thumb to his forefinger in an anxious gesture. You wished he would stop. The gesture made him seem far too human, far too genuine, and tempting and true.

Before you could consider the ramifications, you said, “I do not love someone else.”

You were not sure why you said it. Certainly, it would have been easier for Jungkook to think your heart belonged to another and yet, you could not bear to watch the light fade from his eyes.

Jungkook turned his head to see you. “So, it is me, then,” he said quietly.

“No. And also, yes.”

He frowned. “Clear as mud, Your Majesty.”

You laughed, although there was no humor to it. “What do you expect me to say? That you have convinced me after a week of interactions? That I am awed by your presence, Your Majesty? Is this what you seek in return for healing me in the forest? My hand in marriage?”

Jungkook looked stricken. “No,” he breathed. “Not that. Never that. I would never demand such a thing.”

Something in you softened at his sincerity.

“Then, what?” you asked quietly. “What is it?”

“I just… I wish you would tell me why.”

Unable to meet his gaze, you glanced away. It was a fair question. Jungkook had been nothing but good in the time he’d been here. It occurred to you suddenly that by choosing not to mate, you were taking away his one chance at the bond, as well.

Slowly, you turned back to face him. “I made a vow,” you said, so soft you could hardly hear. “When I became Queen, I vowed I would never marry. It is not something I can turn my back on.”

It was a half-truth, but enough for now.

Jungkook’s brow furrowed. “Why would you make such a vow?”

“Many reasons,” you said. “The main being I wish to belong only to myself and my country. Anything else, and I would do my people a disservice. When I accepted the crown, I said Ashya would always come first.”

The way Jungkook was staring at you made you feel on display, as though he saw through to your very soul and knew what you were made of.

“It is a tricky slope, is it not?” he said at last, stepping closer.

This step brought him within touching distance, the heat of his body seeming to reach out to yours. Something golden and strong brightened between you.

“What do you mean?” 

Jungkook did not look away. “Is the best version of yourself the one without help? Without support? You say you do not wish to do your people a disservice, but is it a disservice to lead while you are unhappy?”

“And you think... marrying you would make me happy?”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his gaze soft. “All I know is the life you speak of does not sound like a life at all.”

Having no response to this, you could only stare when Jungkook took your hand in his. Lifting your hand, he kept his gaze on yours. As he lowered his gaze, his lips slowly brushed the back of your fingers.

When he released you, you found you could not move, could hardly breathe. It seemed impossible to hide your reaction when Jungkook looked up.

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly it hurt and yet, something continued to hold you back. All you could see when you looked at Jungkook was the pain in your father’s eyes when he learned your mother had died.

“I will take my leave,” Jungkook said when you did not respond. “It has been a long day, and you must be tired.”

You nodded, unable to do more than that when he turned to go.

Halfway to the door, you had the sudden urge to do something. To call out, to ask him to come back, to reveal the bond you felt strengthening between you.

In the end you did none of it. The fear of being broken was greater than your want to be whole.

Jungkook turned at the door. “My offer will stay until I go,” he said before he went.

The door shut behind him, leaving you in silence. Exhaling, you walked to the table and uncapped a decanter. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you sat before the fire and drank every drop.

It was a long time before you managed to fall asleep that night.

During your flight the next morning, you went north instead of south. Although Jimin had not found additional Mor patrols, your run-in with them had increased your caution. Soaring above the tree line, the sun brightening the horizon, your heart felt heavier than it had in a while.

When you finally landed and hurried inside, you were entirely alone.

For the first time, this did not strike you as such a good thing.

Independence had always been one of your most prized possessions. Your crown had stripped you of so much – your youth, freedom, and the first man you’d loved. Now though, you wondered what you’d given up by clinging to your ideals so tightly.

You did not have much time to consider it. The ball for Duret Ghal was tonight, and the day after tomorrow, their delegation would leave. You would sign the treaty in the morning and then they would be off.

Jungkook’s offer of marriage would disappear with it.

Amara had outdone herself with your dress for the evening. It was crimson in color, falling in gauzy pleats from a golden, metal bodice. Amara had dusted gold powder across your shoulders, resulting in a shimmering aura.

Red was neither the color of Ashya, nor of Duret Ghal. It was the color of fire, of passion – and of love, you realized with a twisting stomach.

Again, Yoongi was your escort and even his eyes widened as you stepped out the door.

“You are going to give someone a heart attack,” he chuckled, extending his arm.

You merely shook your head as you walked down the hall. The crown you wore tonight was gold, as well. A relic from an ancient Queen of Ashya before the colors had changed to silver and green.

“I am sure they will be fine,” you responded. “It is not as though I plan on shifting in the middle of a waltz.”

“It would certainly liven things up if you did.”

Although you gave Yoongi a look, you quickly fell silent as you approached the ball. Beyond the shut doors, you could hear muffled noises of music and laughter.

“Did Namjoon tell you about the dancing?”

Sharply, you turned your head. “No, he did not. What dancing?”

“Apparently, it is the custom in Duret Ghal for their monarch to lead the first dance.”

“I wish His Majesty the best of luck, then.”

Yoongi hid a smile. “You will need to dance also, Your Majesty.”

“Why is that?”

“Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the concept of balls,” Yoongi mused. “Typically, there is food, dancing, general merriment…”

“I know what a ball is, Yoongi.”

“You seemed confused by the prospect of dancing, though.”

“By the prospect of dancing with His Majesty, yes.”

“Now I am the one who is confused, because –”

“Fine,” you ground out as the doors began to open. “I will dance the first song with His Majesty. Nothing more.”

Yoongi grinned, patting your arm as you entered the room.

The ballroom had been lavishly decorated for tonight’s event. Taking it in, you passed over iced draperies, flowers and foliage spilling from every surface. People were gathered throughout, leaving room in the center of the ballroom for you to dance. An orchestra sat poised in the corner, awaiting your entrance to start the first song.

As you and Yoongi descended the spiral staircase, you only had eyes for the opposite side, where the delegation from Duret Ghal already stood. To where Jungkook was standing, watching your entrance.

His robes were similar to those he’d worn at the feast, although the colors tonight were black and gold. Long robes cut to mid-calf, tied in the middle by a black sash. Sigils of gold had been stitched into the fabric, with a thin chain of gold curved across his chest.

Lifting your gaze, your breath caught in your throat. Jungkook’s hair had been bound in a half-bun, the dark tresses broken only by his golden crown.

Walking closer to him under the lights, everything else seemed to fade. Despite your best efforts, something between you had shifted and now that it had, you couldn’t turn back.

You started imagining what the future would look like beside him. Not a future where you were lesser, but rather where you had support. Strength, like he had offered. Oddly enough, the image did not scare you as it once did.

Stepping onto the dais to turn around, you looked at the crowd. In your peripheral, you could see Jungkook looking at you. Ignoring him, you focused instead on your racing heart. You could almost feel it beat in tandem to his, yearning to run at the same pace.

It was not necessary to greet your guests, nor give a speech of pretty words. Instead you simply turned to face him as the music began. Jungkook held out his hand, waiting until you placed your palm over his.

Jungkook’s fingers curled about yours, leading you on the dance floor. People parted as you walked, leaving a space at the center. Jungkook pulled you to face him, placing a hand on your waist as you settled yours on his shoulder.

You looked up. Meeting your gaze, Jungkook took a step backwards to lead you in the first move.

His grip on you tightened as he led you in a spin. Jungkook was a good dancer, although this did not surprise you. By this point he could have announced he was the goddess Natal, herself, and you would have taken it in stride.

This image made you smile, unable to stop it as he swept you around.

“Why are you smiling?” Jungkook asked, his voice low.

Startled, you glanced up and wished you had not. This close, you could see everything, and it made your heart ache.

“I was imagining something funny,” you murmured.

Jungkook’s hand slid to the small of your back. Heat scalded your spine, making your head spin.

“Not about me, I hope,” Jungkook said, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“And if it were?”

His grip on you tightened. “I would like to know the joke.”

Looking up, you met his gaze. “Does it ever tire you?”

Jungkook blinked.

Others had joined the dance at this point, entering the floor in a promenade. Multicolored skirts and robes swept circles around you, leaving you floating at the center of it all.

“Does what ever tire me?” Jungkook asked.

“This,” you said, glancing at your surroundings. “The pressure. The weight. The constant duties, expectations and never-ending loneliness of wearing our crowns.”

For a moment, Jungkook was silent, and you feared you’d overstepped. Then he exhaled, pulling you closer. His thumb brushed against the bare curve of your back.

“Every day,” he admitted.

Before you could respond, the song came to an end.

Couples stepped apart, talking, and laughing in the lull between songs. You and Jungkook stared at one another, the only two in the room as far as you were concerned. For so long, you had convinced yourself having a mate would be a bad thing.

Perhaps it was for some. For your parents, their bond had ended tragically, this was for certain. But for the first time, you wondered if keeping yourself from happiness because you didn’t want to be hurt might simply be a different kind of hurt itself.

When a hand tapped you on the shoulder, you nearly jumped.

Whirling around, you found Lord Declan before you. You stared at him for a few moments, wondering why he was here.

“Your Majesty.” Lord Declan bowed low at the waist. “Would you do me the honor of having the next dance?”

Of course – this was a ball. You would be expected to dance with others, not only Jungkook. Feet faltering, you glanced sideways but before you could decline, Jungkook took a step back.

“She is all yours,” he said, turning around.

Jungkook disappeared, his midnight-colored robes swishing about his ankles. Lord Declan closed in, forcing your attention away as the orchestra began the next song.

“Yes,” you said, trying to focus. “You may, Lord.”

Lord Declan entered where Jungkook had left off, his right hand slipping beneath yours as his other found your waist. His touch felt wrong, as though you’d put the opposite glove on your hand.

“How fortunate the first dance of the night was a short one,” Lord Declan said with a chuckle.

Startled, you glanced up. “I beg your pardon?”

“I envy your patience, Your Majesty,” he continued, oblivious to your tone. “Had I been forced to spend so long these past weeks in the presence of riders…” Breaking off, he shuddered. “Your control is exemplary.”

Had Lord Declan been a wise man, he might have noticed the heat simmering in your gaze. Or the way your spine stiffened, a lone muscle ticking in your jaw. As it were though, Lord Declan was not a smart man, and so he continued to throw caution to the wind.

You were not certain when you’d become so defensive of Jungkook, but the fact remained the Lord’s comments made you see red.

“I do not know that I would call my control exemplary,” you said, your tone deceptively light. “Indeed, my Lord, I find my courtiers often say things I find infuriating.”

Lord Declan paused, clued in by your choice of words.

“If I have said something to offend Your Majesty…”

His steps were not as graceful as Jungkook’s, nearly stepping on your toes as you turned around. Dodging the gesture, you glanced aside and realized Jungkook had not left the dance floor. Instead, he danced with Maia at the edge of the room. While you were watching, Jungkook threw his head back and laughed.

Unpleasantness curdled your stomach despite your insistence he was not yours to want.

“You have said something to offend me, Lord,” you said, returning to Declan. “Either you are ignorant or stupid, and I pray to Natal you are not both.”

Lord Declan stared, his jaw sagging a little.

“We face an enemy,” you said, voice lowering. “Our enemy is not Duret Ghal, nor is it their riders. I suggest you cease speaking such heresy before I wonder if the mines your family owns would do better in the hands of someone else.”

His eyes widened. “Your Majesty, I do not think –”

“Then we are in agreement,” you said, dropping your arms to take a step back.

Turning around, you stalked towards the edge of the dance floor, barely managing to keep your steam in check. When you glanced again at the offending corner, Jungkook and Maia had disappeared.

Driven by a mix of emotions you dared not name, you slipped beyond the courtiers and out a side door. Eyes closed, you allowed the night air to wash over you. Coming to a stop at the edge of the gardens, you opened your eyes to take in the Thadal mountains.

It was colder than it had been a few weeks ago. The winter solstice was coming, and your human skin could only protect you from so much. Still, you could not stomach returning to the party and so, you kept walking, entering the dark hedges.

You let yourself wander, following the twists and turns with nothing but your heart as its guide. When you turned a corner and found Jungkook before you, it almost was not a surprise.

The moment was overlaid with another memory, from ten years prior. The night you’d realized Jungkook was your mate and looked to the future with wonder.

He was alone again, facing away as he stared into an empty, cracked basin. The fountain had been turned off for the winter and before you could speak, Jungkook sighed.

“Were you not enjoying the party?” he asked.

Walking forward, you came to a stop beside him. “I might ask you the same thing,” you said, staring into the basin. “I saw you enjoying yourself during the last dance.”

Jungkook turned his head.

“Are you jealous, Your Majesty?” he murmured, his gaze flinty.

“Merely noting the obvious,” you said, refusing to face him. “You call me a conundrum and yet, you dance with another woman while proposing marriage to me.”

“One dance.”

“So, there has never been anything between you?”

Jungkook paused. “I will not pretend to have been celibate these past ten years. Neither should you, Your Majesty.”

Looking at him, you attempted to calm the roiling feelings within you. It was not right to feel like this. Not right to be jealous, to berate him when you continued to decline his offer.

“Am I correct,” he said, his voice low, “in thinking you do not want me for yourself, yet you do not want anyone else to have me either?”

“That… that is not fair.”

“Perhaps you know how I feel, then,” Jungkook said, his gaze hardening.

Startled, your eyes widened as he took a step closer. Coming to a stop right before you, Jungkook looked down.

“Watching you entertain other men,” he said hotly. “Watching you dance with other men, consider other men while you continue to deny what lies between us. What we are to one another. My former betrothed. And my mate,” he added, his gaze like dark fire.

Speechless, you could only stare in response.

Jungkook knew.

He knew and had said nothing this entire time. You wondered when he’d realized but lost your head entirely when he lifted a hand. Pressing his thumb beneath your chin, Jungkook tipped your head up.

Bending, he brushed your lips against his. The kiss was chaste, sweet – and wildfire erupted in response. Before you could stop yourself, your hand had fisted in his robes to drag him down. You kissed him back hungrily, fiercely as the heat consumed you.

Jungkook seemed to burn just as bright, crushing you close. His arms wrapped around you, tongue eagerly flicking against your lower lip. When you parted beneath him, he licked into your mouth. Inhaling his scent, you wanted him closer.

It was not at all how you’d imagined it to be.

You had thought once you gave in, it would feel like erasing yourself. Removing the old to make way for the new, but it was not like that at all. Letting him in only made you feel stronger.

Thumbs skimming your cheeks, Jungkook angled you upward and kissed you again. He drew a shuddering breath before he forced himself to stop.

Slowly, his eyes opened and he stared at you, his chest rising and falling.

“If you do not want this, though.” Hoarse, his thumbs caressed your skin. “I do not wish to force it upon you. You should not marry me because of a bond, Your Majesty. Nor should you because you think it’s what’s best for Ashya. I want you to marry me because you want to. Nothing more.”

When you did not respond, Jungkook’s expression began to shutter and he took a step backwards. His hands fell to his sides, the air between you turning cold.

All too late, you realized you’d waited too long. You should have said something immediately, should have done something other than kiss him like a maniac.

“Thank you,” Jungkook said. “For the hospitality you’ve shown Duret Ghal these past weeks. Whatever your feelings are for me, I look forward to signing the treaty tomorrow.”

Before you could say anything more, Jungkook walked past you and left the gardens. You were left alone beside an empty basin.

You stayed there for a while, staring at the looming Thadal mountains, and wondering how in the world you had gotten things so wrong.

When you returned to the proceedings of the ball, Yoongi was smart enough not to ask where you had been. He seemed to know anyways, based on the look on your face.

Stiffly you stood and surveyed the dancing couples. Whenever you cared to look, you caught glimpses of Jungkook on the opposite side.

You tried not to, but this proved to be difficult now that you knew. Jungkook knew you were his mate. You knew what his lips tasted like. All of this you knew and could not forget.

It was his last words which ran again and again through your mind. Jungkook knew you were his mate and yet, he’d said nothing because he wanted you to choose him for him. It was such a foolhardy, romantic notion it made your heart ache.

Even with Leo, you had not felt this way. If you had been honest, you had known your relationship would be doomed from the start. Leo had never challenged you in ways which made you grow. You���d kept him at arm’s length, never giving him the opportunity to know your true self. 

After the death of your parents, you’d been in a dark place. You had made the vow not to marry out of an attempt to protect yourself. Perhaps you’d grown beyond needing such things.

The next time you looked, Jungkook was looking back.

He glanced away quickly, but he’d looked. The realization made you take a step forward but before you could go to him, Yoongi leaned in.

“What did you say to him when you danced?”

Surprised, you glanced in his direction. You thought Yoongi meant Jungkook but then realized he looked at Lord Declan. Declan seemed flustered, pointedly looking anywhere but at you while Lord Larkin glared from across the room.

You stifled a snort. “Only the truth.”

“Which was?”

“That like it or not, Duret Ghal are our allies, so they better start acting like it.”

Quietly, Yoongi laughed as he straightened. “No wonder his father looks as though he swallowed something sour.”

Guiltily, you looked away. “I am sorry if I caused you trouble,” you said, knowing Yoongi would be the one to clean it up. “It is only –”

“You were right.” Yoongi nodded. “The world is changing, and they can either change with the times or be left behind. I am glad you said something.”

Shooting him a grateful look, you glanced again across the room and realized Jungkook had disappeared. Scanning the rest of the ball, you spotted some of his delegation but not their King. Maia was dancing with Namjoon and to your surprise, you realized Taehyung had asked Amara to dance.

Jungkook was nowhere to be seen. Despite his absence, you forced yourself to stay until Yoongi deemed it socially acceptable for you to leave. The last thing you wanted was to put the treaty in jeopardy because you’d overlooked proper etiquette.

As the evening went on, candles guttered low in the chandeliers and guests began to thin out the dance floor. People started disappearing, traveling home in groups of two and three. Sometime around midnight, you finally bade Yoongi goodnight.

Forgoing his offer of escort, you took a side hall and exited the ball. It was a quiet walk to your chambers, a silence which did not lessen once you were inside.

Removing your crown, you set this on your dresser and stared out the window. You wondered if this was your future. A cold, lonely existence where you always ended up in your room alone.

Jungkook was right.

You kept everyone at a distance because you were afraid of being hurt. You were afraid if you let them in, you’d grant them the power to tear your heart in two. The problem was you weren’t sure how much longer you’d have a heart to give.

It already felt like a feeble, weakened thing within your chest. You didn’t know how to make it work like it should. So accustomed to your own company, you were unable to respond to true acts of friendship. This struck you as a poor kind of ruler for any nation. 

It made you wonder if the vow you’d once made held no further weight.

Now was time to decide what kind of ruler you wanted to be, what kind of person you wanted to be moving forward. Your life could still be wondrous if you so wished.

Abruptly, you turned and strode for the door.

Your guards seemed surprised to see you leave, but let you pass by with a nod. Once in the hallways, your feet seemed to know the way. Down one hall, then the next, you found yourself entering the guest wing before your mind could catch up.

Depending on stature, guests of the crown stayed with varying proximity to your personal quarters. It was not far to the rooms Jungkook occupied, the most lavish guest suite in the castle.

Outside his room, your steps slowed before coming to a stop. Jungkook did not have guards posted outside his doors. Some might have seen this as a sign of naiveté, but you saw it for what it was. A symbol of trust.

Lifting a hand, you knocked on his door.

It took him a few seconds to answer, rustling noises telling you he was within. When he swung open the door, your mouth immediately went dry.

Jungkook had changed from his formal attire to a more casual tunic and trousers. It took a great deal of effort to keep your eyes on his face, and not wander towards the ink you saw peering out from his sleeves.

Surprise flickered in the depths of his gaze, although he quickly concealed it. Leaning a shoulder to the frame, Jungkook arched a brow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Your Majesty?”

Any words you wished to say dried up like a stream in the desert. Finally, you managed to rouse yourself.

“May I come in?” you asked.

Jungkook paused. For a moment, you were afraid he might tell you to go. You had turned him down so many times; surely it was time for him to return the favor.

Then he dipped his head and stepped aside, allowing you entrance. Heart pounding, you slipped past him and stood at the center of the room.

His rooms were your guest chambers, so you had obviously seen them before. Occasionally you met with foreign dignitaries or visitors. Jungkook had stayed long enough though, that portions of the room had begun to seem like his own.

The black and gold robes he’d worn to the ball were draped over a partition. A trunk remained half-open beside a table, full of stacks of books. It reminded you of your visit to Duret Ghal so long ago, where he could often be found in the library.

“Would you like wine?” Jungkook interrupted your thoughts.

Mutely, you nodded and reached for the crystal decanter. Midway there, Jungkook’s hand caught your wrist.

“Allow me,” he said, moving past.

You stopped and watched him pour two glasses of wine. One after the other, Jungkook set them down on the table.

“You knew,” you said quietly. “You knew you were my mate.”

Jungkook hesitated, continuing to stare at the wine.

After a moment, he lifted a glass and took a long sip. “Yes,” he admitted. “I knew.”

“When?” you demanded.

His eyes narrowed, looking up. “When did you know, Your Majesty?”

“At the end of my last visit to Duret Ghal.”

“I knew the moment I saw you,” he said quietly.

“You – what?”

Jungkook set his wine down. “Your arrival was scheduled for shortly before sundown,” he said. “My parents had dressed me in my best clothes, and I remember being angry about it. I remember standing there fuming, waiting for you to arrive. And then you did.”

His eyes shone. “I had never seen someone so beautiful.”

Hearing him speak, your breath caught in your chest. Jungkook began to walk closer, his expression inscrutable.

“I avoided you for a few days,” he continued. “Mates are rarer in Duret Ghal and for a while, I didn’t know what I was feeling. Even once I realized, I resented the bond. It was difficult enough to accept my own magic back then.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You.” His lips curled in a smile. “You surprised me. I found myself liking you despite myself. I started to realize the bond might not be such a bad thing.”

“So… this entire time, you have known,” you said in disbelief.

“I have.” His expression darkened. “As have you, it would seem.”

Guilty, you looked away. You had and it had not occurred to you to tell him.

That was a lie. It had occurred to you and you’d decided against it, because you did not think you could stomach denying the bond to his face.

Reaching out, Jungkook took your hand. The gesture was so simple, it nearly broke you in two. Glancing down, you marveled when he brushed his thumb over your skin. Jungkook gave you space to think until you found the courage to speak.

“You know my mother was killed ten years ago,” you said quietly. “My father survived the attack, but they were mated and when she passed… he could not bear it.” After a pause, you looked up. “He died five years later, and those five years were as torturous for everyone else as they were for him.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Jungkook murmured.

“He tried,” you said, forcing yourself to remember.

To remember the days when your father had tried to go on. He’d tried for you and for Ashya, but it had not been enough. There had been no light in his gaze, no meaning behind his odd smiles. Although only your mother had died in the attack, you’d lost both your parents.

“I know he did,” you continued. “But the pain of losing his mate was too much. Everything which had been important simply faded away. I swore after he passed the same fate would not befall me. It is why I said no to you,” you said, your grip tightening. “It is not because I feel nothing. I said no to you because you are my mate.”

His thumb continued to soothe over your skin. “And now?” he asked, wondering. “Did you come here simply to say this?”

“No. Now I find myself wondering if in an attempt to spare myself pain, I created agony of a different kind.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened. “I meant what I said earlier, Y/N. I don’t wish for you to agree out of some sense of duty, or an unearthly bond.”

A shiver went down your spine at hearing your name on his lips.

“That is not why I am saying yes,” you said, lifting your chin.

Surprise flared in his gaze. “No?”

“No.”

Deciding you needed the wine after all, you tugged your hand from his and turned towards the table. Lifting the glass to your lips, you let the sweet burn fill your throat.

In the corner of your eyes, you could see Jungkook watching. Waiting.

“I am saying yes because I want this,” you breathed, turning around. “I want you. I have wanted you since the day you followed me to the cliffs. I’m scared,” you admitted, barely more than a whisper. “I’m terrified of what you might do to me. Of what I might do to you. But I don’t want fear to hold me back anymore.”

Jungkook continued to stare at you, jaw working while he thought through what to say. His fingers began to tremble, fighting the rising tide of emotion.

“We face a difficult path,” he said at last.

You nodded. “I know.”

“The history between our people. Revealing the magic of the riders. War on the horizon,” he said, taking a step forward with each reason he listed.

“Do you not want me to say yes, Your Majesty?”

Jungkook came to a stop before you.

“I want you to say yes so badly it hurts,” he said hoarsely. “But I don’t want you to accept not knowing what it means.”

“The bond scared me for a long time,” you told him. “The idea of belonging to someone. Of no longer depending solely upon myself.”

“And why is that?”

“Loss of control.” Your smile was fleeting. “The idea has always terrified me more than any enemy. I feared the bond would mean losing myself… that it would mean…”

“Giving a part of yourself away.”

Quiet, you nodded.

“Did you not think, though,” he said, reaching out. “Giving a piece of yourself away might mean gaining something in return?”

Taking your hand in his, Jungkook laid them both on his heart.

You stared at your hand, splayed beneath his on his chest. The idea had not occurred to you, and yet – perhaps it should have.

“I have no doubt you will remain independent,” Jungkook insisted. “Accepting this bond would not change that. I would not want that to change.”

“But if I were to die –”

“Love is always a liability,” Jungkook quietly said. “It is. And yet, where would we be without it? My love for Nemrys, for Duret Ghal and the riders saved me when my parents died. A world without love is not one worth fighting for.”

Ever so gentle, you brushed the curve of his hand with your thumb.

Jungkook’s grip on yours tightened.

“Yes,” you breathed. Chest practically touching, you looked up to see him. “I know all this, and I’m saying yes.”

For the first time, you let yourself look at him fully.

You had known he was beautiful, but the truth was he was nearly unbearable. Strong jaw, soft lips and eyes which burned as fierce as any Dragon. You did not look at them though, wanting to take in the rest of him first. Lifting a hand, you cupped the side of his face.

Jungkook shivered at your touch. Startled, you glanced up and met his gaze. The need you found within nearly undid you.

For so long, this had been building inside. Suddenly the idea of you tolerating, let alone enjoying another man’s company seemed a strange concept. Jungkook was your mate, someone who had never once cowered from who and what you were.

Turning his head, Jungkook’s lips brushed your palm.

“What are you thinking?” he murmured.

“I am remembering earlier. Your kiss in the garden.”

His gaze darkened. “What do you want from me, my Queen?”

The addition of the word my sent a thrill down your spine.

“You,” you said, knowing how true it was.

You wanted every part of the man before you. Wanted to know him, breathe him in, drink from his cup and bask in his light. The man who’d known you were his mate and hadn’t claimed you, but rather waited. Waited you to come to him.

Rising on your tiptoes, your hands slid to his neck and you kissed him again.

You kept your pressure light, the opposite of the searing kiss you’d previously shared. Pulling away, you savored the press of his chest, the warmth of his body and the weight of his hands. When you opened your eyes, you found Jungkook smiling.

Pressing your lips to his again, you moved a bit closer. Jungkook seemed content just to kiss, trading gentle pressure – until you pulled back, teeth catching on his lower lip.

A growl loosened from his chest, low and primal.

Sliding a hand behind your neck, Jungkook tilted your head upward and waited for you to nod. When you did, he crushed your lips to his in a kiss equally fierce as it was possessive. Breath stolen, you gave him your desire and what was left of your heart.

Warmth flooded your veins, heating you from the inside out. With limbs of molten fire, you kissed him back until his tongue swiped at your lip, demanding entrance. You parted easily for him, a whimper leaving your throat as you melded together.

Jungkook groaned, pulling close to kiss you again. His fingers traced the skin at your nape, trailing your spine to firmly cup your ass. Nestled between his legs, Jungkook allowed you to feel every inch of his hardness.

Your skin was aflame, as though lightning had zipped across it. Reduced to only sensations, you shivered at each one you felt. His thumb, fondling the dip of your waist. Your nipples, turgid against the fabric of your gown. The sharp, aching pulse which steadily grew between your thighs.

“Oh,” you gasped, head tipping back.

Jungkook kissed each inch of exposed skin you gave him.

“Is this what you want?” he murmured.

“What I want, my King,” you panted, regaining some of yourself. “Is for you not to stop.”

Lips curved in a smile, he lifted his head. “I rather think your King is more appropriate, no?”

You arced a brow. “What is the difference?”

“One implies you are my subject and the other implies I belong to you.”

“And which do you prefer?”

His gaze glinted in firelight. “Allow me to show you, my Queen.”

Barely pausing, you breathed, “And which usage was that?”

With a soft sort of chuckle, Jungkook walked you both backwards until your spine hit the wall. Bending his head, he brushed his lips against yours until you were aching. Until your need for him became fire, racing through your veins in a silent demand.

Sliding his thigh between your legs, Jungkook paused when you gasped. Swiftly giving in, he covered your lips in a kiss which seared to your soul.

Slipping your hands higher, you marveled at the breadth of his torso. Years of riding had hardened his body, making you wonder what he looked like beneath the tunic.

One hand on the wall, Jungkook’s other fisted in your skirts as he tugged you closer. Sharply, you inhaled when he yanked up the fabric, exposing your knee to the gentle press of his thumb. A moan left your lips as your head hit the wall, eyes fluttering open.

Jungkook stopped. “Is it too much?” he asked, releasing your skirts.

“No.” You shook your head. “I want more. I want you”

His gaze darkened. “Then you shall have me,” he promised, covering your mouth with his.

His kiss was rough, lips bruising as your hands found his hair. Arching against him, you reveled in the hard panes of his body. It seemed wherever you had space, Jungkook had been made to fill it.

Hand in your skirts once again, Jungkook pulled them higher to press his thigh in between. You inhaled at the contact, his muscles rigid and hard in all the right places.

Before you could do anything else, Jungkook bent and grasped the back of your thighs. Wrapping you around his waist, he kept your body close as he walked towards the bed. Lowering you to the floor, his hands remained on your waist.

“Turn around,” Jungkook rasped, and you obeyed.

Facing the bed, you felt his fingers trace over the bodice of your gown.

“May I?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Please,” you whispered.

Carefully, Jungkook began undoing the laces and hooks. As the fabric was loosened, exposing your skin to his gaze, you closed your eyes. His fingers skimmed your shoulders, sliding the fabric lower until it hit the floor.

Bared to his gaze, you felt your breath hitch. Cool air played over your skin, perking your breasts, and drifting between your thighs. The gown was sheer enough to necessitate you wore no undergarments beneath it, leaving you naked before him.

“Y/N.” Jungkook sounded hoarse. “Please… please face me.”

Slowly, you did so as you opened your eyes.

Jungkook stared, his eyes dark as night. Jaw tense, his gaze slowly dragged down your body. You felt the intimacy of it as he trailed your throat, lingered at your breasts, your ass, and between your thighs.

When he finally returned to your face, the heat between you was scorching. Throat parched, your body felt one with the fire.

“Now, you,” you murmured.

Without looking away, Jungkook lifted a hand to begin undoing his tunic. Once it was loose, he pulled this overhead in a single motion. As it hit the floor, his hands went to his trousers. With bated breath, you watched him remove the laces.

Swallowing once, you stared at his chest bathed in soft firelight. Swirling dark lines stretched across his shoulder, encircling his bicep, and traveling to his wrist. You saw words and symbols but had no time to peruse. Later, you promised yourself. Later, you’d worship the ink with your lips and tongue.

A dark smattering of hair trailed from his abs, disappearing into trousers he undid with deft fingers. Once these had been pushed to the floor, you found another reason to swallow.

You were not what anyone would call shy, but something about this felt more intimate than it ever had. Baring yourself to Jungkook meant more than just sex. You’d accepted the bond, accepted what lay between you and acknowledged him as your mate.

Seeming to understand, Jungkook took a step closer as he bent his head. His hands slid to your waist and he kissed you gently.

When he pulled away, you saw vulnerability in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said.

You marveled at the sound of his name on your lips. “Jungkook,” you returned, and watched him smile.

Bending again, his lips found yours as his hands skimmed your body. You settled between his legs, feeling slightly light-headed from the press of so much skin. Jungkook’s hand slid lower, gripping one of your thighs to wrap around him. He gave the same treatment to the other, twisting you around to lay on the bed.

Pressing a knee to the mattress, Jungkook crawled forward and bent his head. Lips soft, he began to kiss down your body. Your hands gripped his back, trailing to find the twin dimples nestled at the base of his spine.

When Jungkook’s mouth brushed your breasts, he paused. Instead of giving in and devouring you whole, he slid a hand between your thighs and found how wet you were. Gaze lidded, he looked up as he cupped your sex. A single finger slid over your silken entrance.

Lifting the same finger to his lips, Jungkook leisurely tasted you. When he pulled his finger out, you saw it had been licked clean.

Growling in approval, Jungkook bent and closed his lips over your breast.

“Oh,” you gasped, arching beneath him.

Your nipple was already hard, peaked with desire. Jungkook sucked on it eagerly, pulling your breast taut before he raised his head. Moving on to the next, his thumb remained behind to skim over your nipple.

He continued with this sweet torture until you’d had enough.

“No more,” you gasped, curving a hand beneath his jaw.

Releasing your breast, he lifted his head. “I want to taste you,” Jungkook breathed. “I want to know what it’s like to have you fall apart on my tongue.”

Easing yourself onto your elbows, you slowly spread your legs.

“Do your worst, Your Majesty,” you said, gaze glinting.

Jungkook grinned, lowering himself to the sheets. His mouth was hot, open as he kissed your waist, your belly and lower. You did not know where to look – his entirely naked ass, or his dark head of hair before your dripping sex.

Dragging his nose up your thigh, Jungkook deeply inhaled as he centered himself. Lowering his head to your sex, he gave a tentative kiss. Even this sent a sweeping shudder through you. It took nearly everything you had not to moan like a maiden in heat.

Opening his mouth, his tongue swirled once and you nearly dissolved. Liquid heat pulsed through you, cumulating between your thighs in a sinful wave. Worshipping you with his tongue, Jungkook tore moans from your lips, one after the other.

Swiping his tongue in another slow circle, he coaxed your body to arc from the bed. With a throaty chuckle, Jungkook looked up. Hair mussed and lips wet, he looked like something divine.

“Do you want more, my Queen?” he asked lowly.

“Yes,” you exhaled, unable to look away.

A devious smile spread across his lips. Lowering his mouth, Jungkook resumed his ministrations until you were gasping his name.

“Oh,” you groaned, broken as he continued to eat you out.

Gripping your thighs, he pushed them further apart to better get at your sex. Legs splayed on the bed, you framed his broad shoulders as you reached for his hair. Another growl left him as you fisted your hand in the strands. Hips rising and falling with the motion of his mouth, your head fell limply back on the bed.

“Yes – yes,” you said, chasing the sweet pleasure with your hips.

You hardly knew what you were doing as you moved, never having felt this way before. Jungkook seemed equally entranced, his eyes snapping open to meet yours above. The bottom half of his face was wet with your juices and while you should have felt modest, instead you felt righteousness. Intoxication. Possession.

This was your body which made him look like this, half-feral with need as he ground into the mattress. “Yes,” you gasped, gripping harder as your legs started to shake. “Yes, Jungkook.”

Pleasure built from within, threatening to drown out everything but the man between your thighs. Slipping a finger to your entrance, Jungkook drew lazy circles over your sex. His tongue moved in quick, agile motions against your swollen clit.

“Come for me,” he panted, lifting his head.

Your lips parted when his finger slipped in. Gripping his hair, your hips bucked against him as he added another and curled. Crying out his name, you came hard and fast around his hand. You think you said Jungkook, amongst other things, as you went limp on the mattress, your hands falling to the sheets.

Jungkook slowly relented, gently kissing your hip, your chest and all the way up your throat. Smiling softly, he settled beside you to drape an arm over your waist. Chest rising and falling, you stared at him in wonder.

You’d often wondered what the mating bond felt like. If something would snap into place and all of a sudden, your mind would belong to someone else. Whatever you’d imagined, it had not been this. This felt as natural, as right as when you flew.

Tracing a circle on your inner thigh, Jungkook looked up. “Do you want more?”

His other hand parted your legs, cupping your heat to show you what he meant. Inhaling softly, you reached down and encircled his wrist with your hand. Jungkook went still.

“Yes,” you murmured. “But not like that.”

His eyes lightened. “How, then?”

“I want all of you. Inside me,” you said. “I take the potions monthly.”

The potions were a trio of liquids sold by most apothecaries throughout the continent. They did everything from preventing pregnancy to protecting against diseases and easing your monthly flow. Arching a brow, you glanced pointedly at the headboard.

Smiling softly, Jungkook retracted his hand. Pushing himself upwards, he shifted to seat himself against the same headboard.

You could not have imagined a more beautiful sight. With mussed hair, his skin dark with ink and flushed with arousal, Jungkook was artwork himself. Lifting yourself to your knees, you positioned yourself over his thighs and lowered your gaze.

His cock was impressive, although you had already known this. He would be the largest you’d ever taken, that was for certain.

Reaching down, you wrapped your hand gently around him. Gaze half-lidded, Jungkook stared as you dragged your hand upwards. A hiss left his lips, though he held himself back.

“Careful,” he warned, shifting his hips.

Brushing your thumb across his head, you spread already-leaking fluids down his hardened shaft. Lowering your body, your mouth slid over the reddening tip. With a flick of your tongue, you relished his soft moan of approval. Next, was a swirl, before you slid off with a pop and began to move your fist.

“This is not your first time,” Jungkook observed, breathing heavily.

“Neither is it yours, Your Majesty.”

Bending again, you took him all at once in your mouth. Gasping his chuckle, Jungkook’s hands skimmed your torso to land on your rear. For a while, the only sounds which filled the room were the sloppy sounds of you sucking.

“It is not,” he panted, fingers digging into your ass. “And yet, I cannot help but be envious of all who came before me. Of all who’ve known the sweet pleasure of your lips on their cock.”

Removing him from your mouth, you looked up.

“There is no need to be jealous,” you said, rising onto your knees. Not looking away, you swung a leg over his hips. “You are the one who has me now.”

Something proud, almost territorial entered his gaze.

Gripping you by the waist, Jungkook pulled you even closer. “Do I?” he murmured, lips brushing your throat. “My Queen. My betrothed. My mate,” he breathed, nipping the skin.

A not unpleasant shiver ran down your spine. Reaching beneath you, you gripped his cock to position at your dripping entrance. Still, you did not take him inside.

Realizing Jungkook awaited an answer, you nodded. He had you.

“Then tell me,” Jungkook demanded, looking into your eyes.

Lowering yourself, you felt his tip brush your entrance. “You have me,” you whispered. “My King. My betrothed. My mate.”

With each word, you took him in deeper. Jungkook sat upright, right hand cupping the back of your neck to bring you closer. Clasped to his warm, damp skin, you sank down on his cock.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hot in your ear. Other hand gripping your ass, he lowered you even further. “You can take more of me, can you not?”

You could and you did, not wanting to wait any longer. Hands digging into his back, you kept your chests pressed together as you sank even further. No matter how much you took, there always seemed to be more to give. Jungkook’s cock stretched you open, making you work to fit all of him inside.

“Oh,” you whimpered, gripping him tighter.

Jungkook grunted and stroked the side of your neck with his thumb. “There you go. Take all of it. All of me,” he exhaled.

A now-familiar shiver swept your spine as you moved. The last inch pushed you past your limits, but finally you felt him bottom out. For a moment, you could not breathe from the feeling of fullness. Of rightness. Of completeness.

Him sheathed inside you felt indescribable, only improved when Jungkook shifted his hips and finally moved.

“Oh,” you gasped, eyes flying wide.

“Y/N,” he groaned.

Lifting yourself higher, your nipples brushed his chest as you eased yourself down. Jungkook’s hand remained on your spine, rolling your hips as he thrust from below. Kissing him slowly, you bit down on his lip and took him in deeper.

Jungkook began to move, spearing you with his cock as you spread your legs. His kisses became harder, more desperate as a steady thrum of power built in between you. Soon it was your hips chasing his, not the other way around.

Lowering his head, Jungkook caught your breast with his mouth. Lips parting, you began to fuck him harder as you slammed your hips down. His tongue teased one rounded breast, switching to the other while his thumb flicked the first.

Dropping onto his length over and over, you marveled at the feel of him moving inside you.

“Jungkook,” you moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy.

His hands seemed to be everywhere. Clasping you to him, skimming your torso, flicking your pebbled nipples as the wave of pleasure built. Toes curling beneath you, you panted from the effort of trying not to come.

As though he could sense this, Jungkook began speeding up. Clasping you to him, he thrust into you harder, filling you with each languid roll of his hips. As your lips found each other, the strange tide of longing crested into a wave.

Winding your fingers into his hair, you tipped your head back and bared your neck to his teeth. Jungkook scraped them up your throat, whining his approval as you rode his cock. Hands gripping your ass hard enough to bruise, his hips moved even faster as he sought completion.

With his dampened skin pressed to yours, his scent began to envelop. Each moan he gave you was freely taken. Each sound you made, he swallowed whole. You were not sure how long you existed in this state, simply reveling in the pleasure from each other’s bodies.

On the edge of release, you felt the bond between you tighten. It was difficult to tell where one of you ended and the other began. Slamming your hips down to his, Jungkook was equally fierce, plunging inside you.

“I cannot hold on much longer,” he gasped.

You nodded, stroking his temple with a sweat-slicked thumb. “Together.”

Jungkook nodded, lips seeking yours in a question you answered. Hips quickening, limbs tightening, you let yourself fall into the release he offered. As you came undone, it was Jungkook you held onto. Somewhere within the bright haze of your pleasure, you felt Jungkook release as well. Thick, hot spurts of cum painted your insides white. 

You reveled in it, trembling at the idea of a future where he’d do this again. Where he’d whet you with his seed, stuffing you full in the hopes you might bear his child. The notion made you whimper, squeezing with your walls as you felt him begin to leak out. 

Although your breathing slowed, the haze of joy lingered. The mating bond became almost visible, shining crystal-clear in what had previously been darkness. It stayed with you; humming and golden, and fearfully strong.

Lifting your head, you met Jungkook’s gaze.

He had not become someone different. Neither had you and yet, something between you had changed. It was still Jungkook beneath you, inside you and with his arms wrapped around you. Now though, you knew what he was to you. Your mate. You had chosen him, and he had chosen you.

Based on his expression, you knew he felt something similar.

One of your hands slid down his chest and settled over his heart. Beneath your palm and warm skin, you felt his heart keeping pace with yours.

“Oh,” you murmured, eyes shining.

Leaning forward, Jungkook brushed your lips with his. Clasping your hand in between you, he rested his forehead to yours.

You knew obstacles lay ahead. You knew but somehow, they all seemed more possible with him by your side. With him as your partner, your mate, your betrothed.

Opening your eyes, you met his gaze and smiled.

© kpopfanfictrash, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to everyone read this long! I hope you enjoyed :)

Character Ask Game found here

[xtrafluffyteddy]

Till death do us part

pairing: Steve harrington x reader, Brief eddie munson x reader

Mentions: heartbreak, longing, acceptance, closure, bitter sweet ending.

Inspired by the corpse bride

When your mother told you you were to be married to Steve Harrington you the only son of the most affluential family in Hawkend you couldn’t believe it, I mean your family was just a bunch of fur traders and seamstresses what would he gain from marrying you, it’s not like you had a big dowry or something, “but mother” you began “why am I marrying into the Harrington what do they want from me, I’m not worth anything and have nothing to offer, I’ve also never even met the man” you sigh when your mother begin to rant “it’s not you’ll do for them its what they’ll do for us” your mother says as she ticks a lose hair back into her tight bun always wanting to look her best “when you marry into the Harringtons you’ll be able to funnel money into our business, without it we’ll be destitute, you don’t want you poor mother in the poor house do you?” Your mother coos wrapping her boney arms around you “no mother” you mumble looking down “Great!perfect!” Your mother claps “your meeting Steve this evening so stop frowning you want to look your absolute best” Your mother pats your head before exiting your room leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When the carriage pulled up in front of the large Harrington estate you couldn’t help but gulp feeling your anxiety return only to be snapped out of it by your mother pinching your arm hard commanding through gritted teeth for you to smile, and you did as you stepped inside the sheer size of it throwing you off guard. You wondered where the Harringtons were and it was like someone was reading your thoughts as you turned your head seeing a handsome young man descending down the grand staircase sending a warm smile your way chasing your cheeks to flush and your stomach to fill with butterflies

“Ah welcome Lady Arista” Steve says bowing before your mother before kissing the back of her hand like the gentleman he is “if your looking for my parents they are in the lounge having evening tea I’ll have the butler escort you” seemingly out of nowhere a snooty mustached man comes and leads your mother away but not before she turns and gives you a warning flare as if to say ‘don’t fuck this up’ you take a deep breath when you realize your alone with Steve who takes your hand gently leading you to sit down deciding to sit across from you warm smile never leaving his face.

It was a few minutes before anyone said anything Steve deciding he’d be the one to break the ice “you’re very beautiful my lady” he states staring into your wide eyes as a blush creeps up your neck and settles on your cheeks ‘shit say something say something say something you idiot’ you though before blurting out “your very pretty, I mean handsome, I mean-“ you groan burying your face in your hands feeling you’ve already messed it up only to look up in surprise as Steve begins to laugh “your very funny my lady” he chuckles wiping a tear from his eye as he moves to sit beside you “I think we will have a very lovely life together don’t you agree” he coos all your able to do is nod

After that your parents made you hang out every second of every day not that you minded to much you grew to love Steve’s company finding him fascinating. When the day do the rehearsal wedding came you were all nerves every bad scenario crossing through your mind at-least once, you and Steve stood at the altar practicing your vows the priest glaring at you as you messed up your vows for what felt like the 100th time “from the top” he grumbles glaring at you when you mess up again. You grew frustrated throwing down your fake bouquet and running out of the church ignoring the calls of you mother and Steve

You ran until you were exhausted and you couldn’t see the town anymore “you fucked up you idiot” you mumbled to yourself wiping away your tears and most of your makeup “stupid wedding” you sniff ripping the gold ring off your finger tossing away unbeknownst to you that it would land on a suspiciously human like branch sticking out of the ground, that is until you get up to leave and said branch wraps around your ankle pulling you down into the depths of the after life.

When you awaken you come face to face with a man, well a corpse it seems in a torn up white suit his skin having a slight blue hue and his hair is wild and tangled. You do the first thing that comes to mind and scream in terror causing the man to rear back in shock “why are you screaming” he questions kneeling beside you again “where am I?” You look around shakily “who are you?” Your eyes flicker back to the man next to you “who am I? Your so silly sweetheart I’m your fiancé Edward munson but my friends call me eddie” you blink rapidly “fiancé? But I’m already engaged” you say “yeah I know engaged to me” he wiggles a skeletal hand at you showing the gold band rest on his finger.

What felt like weeks passed since that evening that brought you here you were constantly being fawned over by eddie who was insisting you start planning the wedding and starting your lives (well your life his death) together, even surprising you with gifts like bring you your beloved deceased cat buttons who you had lost as a child. He was sweet but all you want to do was be back with Steve and among the living again.

Unbeknownst to you Steve had watched you disappear that night watching as you were taken by a corpse, he had tried telling anyone who would listen that you had been taken by a corpse onto to be marked as hysterical and crazy much to the disdain of his parents who just couldn’t have him ruining their good name so they did what they had to do and had him set to be engaged to another girl from an equally affluential family.

When word reached you of the Steve’s engagement you felt your heart break “let’s get married eddie” you mumble sitting beside him on the bench sniffling quietly “fuck yeah” he shouts pulling you into a tight hug completely missing the tears that began to roll down your cheeks.

When all of you had come up to the land of the living to have the wedding you kept your veil over your face so Eddie couldn’t see you crying. When all of you had crashed into the church the living people inside gasped and screamed in terror at the sight. Father Alistiad the undead priest stood at the head of the altar holding the elixir of death ready to join you and Eddie in matrimony.

The vows were going well until Steve stumbled into the church fear on his face his eyes immediately locking on you then Eddie “my lady” Steve cries out brokenly “it’s too late Steve” you whispered as you gently took the chalice from Eddie putting it to your lips only to be stopped by Eddie who takes it gently wearing a somber smile “be with him sweetheart” he whispers pushing you into Steve who immediately takes you into his arms “but Eddie” you begin giving him a confused look “I was a groom once sweetheart, my dreams were taken from me, but now- now I’ve stolen them from someone else. I love you, sweetheart, but your not mine” he caressed your cheek gently leaving a soft kiss to your forehead before brushing past you bathing in the glow of the moonlight as he slowly turns into moths he turns to you with a soft smile “congratulations lovebirds” he whispers before disappear completely.

“Rest well eddie” you mumble voice cracking as you bury your face in Steve’s chest happy to be in his arms again but sad you couldn’t give eddie what he truly wanted unbeknownst to you, you gave him the greatest gift of all the gift of freedom and the ability to cross over finally.

[tomurasprincess]

Kinktober Day 28: Lactation (The Nest)

Day 28: Lactation Title: The Nest Pairing: Hawks x Reader Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: A/B/O AU, sorta dubcon but sorta not (due to Stockholm syndrome), pregnant sex, lactation kink, biting, marking, slight blood mention, yandere Note: Sequel to Aerie. So sorry this has taken so long to get out, but for some reason it was really kicking my ass. Hope it was worth the wait, however.

Kinktober Masterlist

You are absolutely miserable.

Not because of Keigo, no. Of course not because of Keigo. He was nothing but the doting mate during your pregnancy, a complete gentleman who provided you with anything that you needed. 

No, you were miserable over the fact that your back aches, your ankles are so swollen you can barely walk, and your breasts are so heavy and full of milk that the pressure is killing you. You can not wait for these pups to be born already.

“Hey baby bird, how are you doing?” 

You manage an incoherent grumble as you prop your feet up, and he simply smiles at your grumpiness.

“Having a bad day?” He kneels down on the floor, taking your foot into his hand and massaging your swollen ankles. You let out a cry of pleasure as he works the muscles with skilled hands, and you lay your head back and close your eyes.

“I want these pups out of me already,” you complain, and his smile simply widens. 

“You know what they say helps with that, right?” He whispers slyly, hands trailing from your ankles up your legs. His finger light touches has you shivering, goosebumps rising on your skin. 

He spreads your legs, pushing your already damp panties to the side as he licks along your folds. You moan, head falling back onto the chair as your hand comes to rest on his head. He laps at you like a man starved, nibbling and sucking on the skin but ignoring your clit completely.

“Keigo,” you whimper, “please - “

“Please what?” He laughs smugly. “Use your words or I won’t know what you want.”

“Keigo, please - please, I need you.”

“Need me? You have me already, baby bird.”

“No, I need you - I need you to lick me.”

He chuckles again, the vibration spreading out through your skin and causing a tingle of pleasure to run up your body. 

You growl a bit in frustration before finally getting the words out. “Please, suck my clit, please - “

He teases your clit out with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, sucking hard on the throbbing bead and drawing a moan from your lips.

“Ahh, please don’t stop, it feels so good.”

He doesn’t stop, continuing to suckle at your clit as he slips two fingers inside of you. He curls them upwards to graze that spot inside of you that he knows will make you come undone around his fingers.

“Ahh, oh god, shit, Keigo!”

You cum with a strangled cry, body convulsing as you clamp down around his fingers. You feel yourself begin to gush as he works your g-spot through your orgasm, squirting all over his face and causing him to chuckle with male pride.

“Such a good mate,” he groans as he suckles on your clit even harder. You shout as you’re finally able to pull away, the stimulation being too much to handle.

He gives you a second to catch your breath before pulling you up from your seat, lowering you down onto his lap as he holds you. You smile at your pleased mate, leaning in to give him a kiss. Only to let out a gasp of pain as your sore breasts rub against his shirt, causing milk to leak from your nipples and form two damp spots on the front of your shirt.

“Do you want some help, baby bird?” He whispers to you, reaching up to slip your wet shirt over your head. 

“Help? How can you - ahhh!”

You whimper as he takes your breast into your hand, squeezing gently and causing milk to flow from your sore nipples. He instantly follows with his tongue, lapping at your skin as he licks the droplets off.

“Keigo,” you sniffle as you tangle your hand into his hair, pulling him back down to your breasts. “Please, do that again - “

You can feel his body rumble with laughter as he repeats the action on the other breast. But this time, he takes the nipple into his mouth as he squeezes, shooting your milk directly into his mouth as he greedily sucks.

You sob in sheer pleasure at the release of some of the pressure, and you tangle your hand into his hair as he suckles on your nipple. When he finally pulls away, there’s a bit of milk on his lip. He notices where your eyes are, and pulls you in for a heated kiss so you can taste yourself on his lips.

“You taste so good, baby bird.”

“Here, have a taste.”

He pulls away too quickly, only to lower his head back to your other breast. “Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes please,” you whisper, “it feels so good, please Keigo.”

“I could never deny my little omega when she begs so cutely,” he whispers in a low voice before taking your other nipple into his mouth.

This time he takes big gulps of your milk, causing you to gasp with sheer pleasure as more pressure is relieved from your swollen breasts. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead with him.

You can feel his lips curve into a grin as his tongue swirls around your reddened nipple, continuing to squeeze out your milk into his mouth.

“Fuck, I can’t hold back anymore. Come here,” he has you switch positions, pulling you into his lap as he sits back in the recliner. He reaches down to rip your panties off with one sharp tug.

“I need you, omega,” he whispers to you in that tone that always has you obeying him. 

“I need you too,” you groan, a thrill running through your body as you hear a zipper being undone. His hot, hard length runs along your slit, gathering up your ample juices and coating his cockhead.

“Do you like me drinking your milk so much? You’re so damned wet.”

Your face goes hot, and you can’t bear to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hey, none of that,” he grabs your chin and pulls your face to meet his eyes. “No shame allowed here,” he says happily as he gives you that goofy grin that you love so much.

You can no longer remember why you fought him for so long.

He lowers you down slowly onto his cock, causing a delicious stretch that has you trembling with desire.

Once he’s balls deep inside of you, he pauses for a long second to allow you to get used to his girth. Despite how long you’ve been together, you’re still not entirely used to his size. 

He runs his hands along your body and down your sides, causing you to shiver against him. “You look so beautiful,” he murmurs to you, “and I’m going to prove it to you.

He finally begins to move inside of you, bouncing you along his length as you squirm. You put your arms above him on the headrest as you lift yourself up and force yourself back down to meet his every thrust. The sounds of skin smacking against skin fill the room, and you moan as he grazes that sensitive spot against your inner walls.

“Right there, Keigo,” you whine a bit, and he starts to aim for that spot relentlessly. He leans up to take a nipple into his mouth as he begins to suckle again, taking large gulps of milk as he rocks inside of you.

You never knew something could feel so good, so right, and you find yourself cumming just from the pleasure of the agonizing pressure being relieved.

“You feel so good cumming on my cock like that, baby bird,” he whispers to you as he bounces you up and down on his length easily, fucking you ruthlessly through your orgasm. 

“Shit, Keigo, too much, too much.” The tension in you snaps again and you cum even harder, so sensitive from your previous orgasms that your body goes limp in his arms as your whole body trembles.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” You can feel the base of his cock begin to swell, and you moan in anticipation of what’s about to happen. He moves his hips in sharp, short thrusts as his knot stretches your still too tight inner muscles. Your mouth opens in a wide O as the knot forces its way against your g-spot, getting caught there briefly and pulling another orgasm from your exhausted body.

He holds your body down as he ropes his knot into you inch by inch, stretching you until the top of the knot is pressing against your cervix. The knot tugging at your insides and your pussy still fluttering around his cock has him finally shooting loads of cum into you, filling you up so much that it leaks past his knot and drips down to stain the couch.

“You did so good, my little omega,” he murmurs to you as he rubs small circles into your heated, sweaty back. “So good for your mate.”

You nuzzle against his scent gland, licking the sweat from the spot and replacing it with your own. A sign of an omega marking her mate. 

“Marking me again, omega?” He murmurs huskily, chuckling as he returns the favor. “Funny, I remember how resistant you were to me at first.”

A sense of unease runs up your spine. You try not to think of those times, the times that you so rudely rejected your mate. That you hurt him, denied him the mating bond until he was forced to take action. A smaller, deeper part reminds you that this is exactly what you were trying to avoid. But it gets softer each and every day, more easily pushed back down and forgotten about.

Keigo, sensing your distraction, sinks his teeth into your neck as he breaks the skin. You whine a bit before he gently laps at the blood, soothing the wound as his chest rumbles against yours like he’s purring. 

“Do you feel better now?” 

“I - I do, Keigo,” you murmur, realizing that it’s the truth. Those days where you fought him, fought to keep a hold of your freedom are long gone.

Who needs freedom when you have a mate such as Keigo, and beautiful pups coming soon?

You try to stand up, only to find that his knot hasn’t gone down at all, preventing you from pulling away. “Gonna have to wait a little longer, beautiful mate,” he chuckles. “We’re still tied together.”

The thought echoes through your head, just a single, stray thought.

Tied together. Just like you’ll always be.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧ 

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @wings-flames-and-ashes, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @unmeiii, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @dabilove27, @anxietyplusultra, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main, @aryjaa, @theodora3022, @raekah, @ineedmorefanfics, @serosmissingtoe, @deathmemeiverse​, @miscellaneous-bnha​

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Ok this kinda embarrassing and the first time I’ve requested anything but, yk how you mentioned public bedding in ur zuko x of pinned post. Do you think u could write something abt that? Obviously no pressure and if ur uncomfy just ignore me.

Oh, love, don't be shy! I promise, you're welcomed here and free to drop an ask or request anytime~

And, it's your lucky day, because the public bedding may or may not be canon in Limerence 👀 Hence, here are tiny snippets of my rough drafts if I were to write this. Because it's totally not canon Zuko and Yue get married or something and this happens- totally doesn't happen 🍵

AU: Limerence, Bedding Teasers

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

Masterlist

Shy, straddling Zuko’s lap with an intense blush.

His fingers were gliding over my arms, feeling the fabric that decorated my skin. I was so nervous, trembling, unable to stop fiddling with the band of his pants as my hands rested over the space between us. Our noses were just touching as his warm breath fanned over my skin.

“Love, we don’t have to do this.” Zuko hummed, a charming smile of comfort.

I could feel his warmth through the sheer fabric, my head tilted upwards as I stared at Zuko’s lips.

Today was the most magical day in my life.

The vows, the dancing, dressing up as a princess of my dreams while my dads and everyone else cheered and celebrated. Everyone I cherished, I loved, family and friends were all there for me.

But most importantly, I can finally call Zuko, my husband.

Dreaming of this moment since the day I laid eyes on him, an instant connection I never thought one could experience. I bit my lip, a silence filling the room that for a moment, the fact that there was a crowd behind us was forgotten.

Purposely making my back face them, as I sat over Zuko’s legs, hugging his thighs. My touch was easing its way up to his chest, enjoying the feeling over his skin under me as I caressed the faint scars that littered.

I was tired, exhausted from all the emotions, but seeing Zuko like this. Shirtless, hair loose, my blush deepened.

There wasn’t a doubt in me that I was nervous, but another part was so curious. Memories of every time we had almost been caught while we were having fun; from the quickies in the study, the garden. The thrill, idea, of someone watching us.

“Just what are you thinking about,” Zuko purred, his finger tapping my lips, and I realized how heavy my breathing had begun.

Wetness beginning to grow and stain the front of my panties, embarrassed at how I had just been caught fantasizing. But the smirk on Zuko’s face grew before rolling his hips against mine.

My eyes widened, hitching a breath because he was hard.

The head of cock, rubbing against my core, causing the fabric of my panties to rub against me. I bit down a moan, my head tilting downwards as my eyes fluttered shut at the sudden bolt of pleasure.

“A-ah, Zuko-” I shyly stumbled and Zuko groaned, bucking his hips against me, causing me to tense as my mouth to part.

“I haven't even fucked you yet, and look at them.” Zuko chuckled into my ear as I arched my back against his chest. The arm that looped over my knee stopped me from pressing my legs together, twitching as his finger continued to tease.

I struggled to breathe, head tossed as my hips jerked, seeking his touch as he flirts with my cunt.

His cocky smirk pressed against my neck, loving how my eyes fluttered shut when he rolled my clit. It was a touch that left one to desire, his fingers on either side, sliding back and forth. The slickness that drips between my legs, a puddle of my cum pooling underneath.

"It's so sensitive-" I gasped.

But my movements, the whine that left my lips, it was such a contradiction. My hips are rolling, despite pleading, another knot building.

"Mmm, but look love. They want to see, see how you gush for me."

His words were a demand, and my body obeyed. Forcing my gaze to lift, meeting the eyes in front of us. It was too much, body flushing red, breathing hitched, "They're all staring at you, love."

Zuko's right. Shifting in their spots, faces twisted in a mixture of arousal and shame. Unable to look away, but they continued to stare, to gawk. Hypnotized by how I twitch and arch, humping Zuko’s hand out of desperation to feel more.

A few of them letting their palms rest in front of them with flushed cheeks, their knees buckling. They were- I gasped as Zuko let his fingers spread my folds, his middle finger happily rubbing that pleasurable button.

The robe that barely stayed on my shoulders finally began to tumble, bunching at my elbows as I tried to muffle my cries. It felt good, so overwhelming and Zuko groaned into my ear.

I was unintentionally rubbing against his bulge nestled perfectly behind my ass.

"Fuck, at this rate, they're not gonna make it for the best part," Zuko snickered as he stared at the audience that daringly got closer. Bucking into the fabric of their clothes, just how Zuko rutted me from behind. Groaning as I pushed myself further into his embrace, wanting to feel the heat from his body, how his cock twitched.

No longer bothering to hide their stares, they saw my toes curl, my hands falling over Zuko's thighs as my pitch grew. My nails dug into the fabric of his silk robes as I struggled to contain my moans. A wave of embarrassment at the eyes that watched, but it was intoxicating.

So dirty, yet I couldn’t stop making a mess-

"They're so fucking thirsty, love. They look like you, drooling. Wishing to know how you taste. Should I let them?"

I shook my head, gasping as his rubbing never stopped but rather got more intense. My hips were jerking into his hand, "N-no."

"Mmm, and why not, love?"

"Cause I only want you," I whined, and Zuko chuckled into my ear, placing possessive kisses over my neck. Humming in utter bliss, his kisses turning into bites. The sting after his teeth left marks over my skin, arching further as his touch began to speed up.

My arms reached before me, hands gripping whatever I could.

Skin dewy, sweat beading down my forehead as another moan left my lips. Zuko's hands along my hips were deathly tight, forcing my hips upwards while he grunted.

One sharp thrust, his balls slapping against my cunt, that sent a wave of pleasure up my spine. All I could do was gasp his name out because it felt so damn good.

With every roll, it felt like Zuko went deeper, my walls squeezing him painfully because every drag of his cock was causing me to shudder. A new orgasm was building before I could even process the last.

The sounds of our breathing grew, and the intensity only increased as my eyes darted upwards, another wave of guilty pleasure washing over me because everyone was watching so intensely.

The looks of pained struggle on the guards’ faces, giving up entirely of not trying to watch. Their mouths hanging, eyes glued at how I gasped and cried out. My hair was a chaotic mess as Zuko tugged, beckoning me closer, loving how my back arched into him.

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you, love?” Zuko hissed as he felt me clench around him.

I whined, wanting to hide my face in shame because it was so painfully true. Everyone heard my times with Zuko, my screams, my begs. But for them to see, witness first-hand what they were always curious about.

Tears bubbled because I could feel myself tensing around Zuko’s cock, my breath caught in my throat.

“Again?” Zuko teased before his hand began to snake down my hips over my stomach. My eyes widened, already knowing what his plan was, and I shook my head desperately.

“D-don’t, Zuko. I-I’ll-”

Skimming down my stomach, already finding what he was seeking. The pads of his fingers happily parting my folds to let his fingers rest on my clit. His thrusts were growing, using my body to pump himself, hitting that spongey part inside of me that had me seeing stars.

My vision was getting spotty, trying to speak words, but I was merely blubbering nonsense. Zuko was cooing into my ear, encouraging, excited to see me break- “Cum for me.”

I could feel myself gush around him like a dam breaking, his thrusts never stopping, his fingers continued to rub furiously. It was a loud scream as I could feel my juices drip down my legs, painting his with my cum, and Zuko could only groan from behind as I squeezed him.

“Fuck, baby-”

“I-I can’t stop.” I cried, my body convulsing, another wave hitting me, “Maybe this will be a nighty thing, fucking you in front of a crowd. Having you cockwarm while we’re in meetings.”

And my cheeks continued to burn because the thought didn’t seem frightening but a blessing at this point.

Copyright © 2021 Mystic-Kitten-Writer, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind are allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters besides any original characters I have created.

Cross-posted on Ao3/Tumblr/Quotev/Wattpad to discourage plagiarism.

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