#shying away from everyone as we speak

[rqnarok]

GLORY BOX | old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: calling old man!logan daddy for the first time ever…

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. literally porn with no plot or whatsoever. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. stressed reader. established relationship (surprising). soft daddy dom!logan. sub!reader. daddy kink. dd/lg undertones. subspaces. pet names (princess, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. slight breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 1,3k 

All the work you’ve been having these past weeks is knocking you out, mentally and physically. The sight of never-ending paperwork before you makes you want to throw your dinner up to the desk. Although you know it’s not healthy to push yourself like this—you just couldn’t help it. Your anxieties are always eating you and forcing you to do this and that subconsciously. 

Luckily, Logan always notices when you’re tiring yourself to death. His love comes in many forms, one being taking care of you. He always takes care of you at the price of nothing. 

Well, maybe one or two things. 

Your obedience, is in fact, required. Your loyalty to him and only him is expected. Your submission is essential. 

Both of you find a simple way of living by holding onto those systems. You love to be taken care of and Logan loves to take care of you. It is the foundation of your and Logan’s relationship. It is enough. 

His presence is greatly felt as he watches you overworking yourself to a dreadful agitation, “Come on, sweets. Rest up for a bit.” 

“Can’t, Lo. ‘M still doing this.” Your head lulls lazily as the burden on your shoulders becomes overwhelming. Deadlines loom all over your mind, all over your brain like grey clouds before a storm. 

He just can’t take it anymore. The sight of his pretty baby all slouched down and defeated in the dim living room. “I’ll do all the work for ya’. C’mere, princess.”

And before you know it, or even before you register it—your head goes radio silent for a minute. All because of Logan.

“Little one.” Your paperworks on the desk are long abandoned as Logan tenderly whispers to your neck, to the skin he had plastered with many love bites and little hickeys. 

“Mhm—”

His cock is stuffed deep inside of your soaking pussy, stretching you up with his thick girth, and locking your figure to his with his strong biceps like glue.

This position, you on top of him, usually makes you tired and your thighs sore—but it’s different now because he’d taken a willingness to do all the work. I’ll do all the work for ya’. The sight of his girl—his gorgeous girl opening herself to him; letting yourself rest up a bit after all the sobs you had swallowed this entire week—electrify something inside him.

You love to be taken care of by Logan. 

“My pretty pillow princess, hm?” He mutters sweetly to your right ear, gently brushing your hair along the way. Your figure slumped into him, leaning your entire body weight onto him. You managed to nod lightly, lazily, and slowly, but still with desperation. 

“Yeah. My little girl. All mine.” His fingers reach your chin and nod your head with him. Slowly lifting his hips up and down, he makes his cock hits that spot deep inside you. When he talks to you like this—you just can’t help it. The more he babies you, the more you fall into subspace. 

Before you can’t stop yourself, you croak out a small breathy voice, “Daddy.” You sounded so feeble - you barely even recognized your own voice. 

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 

All this time, you call him lots of names, alright. Jokingly or in a serious manner: Grandpa, Lo, Logan, Old Man, Old Guy—but never that.

You feel Logan tense and how his cock twitches inside your walls. Then he slightly pulls you up and down on him, way deeper this time.

His rugged palms dug into your hips, rubbing circles there, “What was that, sweetheart?” The older man’s voice tremble slightly because fuck he didn’t think he could get harder. He knows he’s a bad bad bad man for enjoying shit like this. Young, delicate thing like you drooling over his cock.

You whimper into his shoulders and shy yourself away from his intense gaze—the one that made you clench your pussy around his girth. “What’d ya’ just call me, princess?” He repeats as his fingers squish your cheeks to look at him in the eyes. Bullseye.

There he went again. Making you fall deeper into your subspace you can’t even think. “Repeat whatcha’ say to your old man, baby.” Pushing just the right buttons. 

“Daddy…” you managed to get away from his gripping fingers and nuzzle your face deeper into his neck—your voice comes out needier than you expected.

Logan groans and you could feel his cock twitches again, “You wan’ more of Daddy’s cock? Hm?”

He managed to slip his thumb into your spit-slicked mouth and make you suck at the tip. “Mmhm. Please, Daddy—”

“Wan’ Daddy t’a stuff you up, little one?” He grunts, loving all this, you could tell. His thumb slips out of your lips and makes its way down down down and then his hand drifts to play with your breasts, squeezing and pinching your peaking nipples.

“Ah! Y-yes, Daddy.” You’re full-on sobbing now. You’d do anything. Only one word repeats in your dumbfounded mind now.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 

“‘Aight. Hold on t’me.” Logan lets out a dry chuckle and trails his hands from your breasts to the plush of your ass. “Daddy’ll fill you up.” He lifts you up and lets the tip of his cock slip from your clenching wet hole, barely even the tip. He scolds you softly when you start moving around in desperation, “Stay still for Daddy. Lemme’ do my job.” 

You cry out loudly when he thrusts himself back in, deep and hard. “Daddy!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sets a rapid pace. 

The sound of slapping flesh against flesh obscenely roams around the room as Logan pistons his hips up off the cushion, eagerly meeting your bouncing body above him. “T-there ya’ go, kiddo. Always grippin’ Daddy so fuckin’ tight.”  

Logan takes his right hand and press it down on your tummy, feeling his cock bulging through, "Ya' feel me here, kiddo?" And God, how could you not melt at that?

He pounds his large cock into your slicked pussy, chasing his high and yours. “Go ‘head play with your pouty clit.” Says Logan as he keeps bullying his way inside your heat. But your hands stay locked around his shoulders. You’re just too tired and he said he’d do all the work, right? 

Logan knows you’re close when he feels your toes curl on his thigh and your arms tightening around his neck—suffocating him with your presence and your cunt.

“Daddy,” you call out to him again, making grabby hands on his salt-and-pepper beard. A continuous line of DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddys in a loop and you’re so full of him, you feel him everywhere.

“Cream my fat cock, baby. Daddy’ll fill you up real nice.”  You try to tell him yes but it comes out of you broken and high-pitched.

“Daddy-” you can feel his big fingers circling your swollen button—doing all the work for you. It’s not even a second later until you babble that you’re coming, repeating it over and over in his ear. “‘M coming, Daddy—‘M-” 

Logan mutters a curse word as he feels your velvet walls squeezing his cock so tight and milking him dry. “Shit. Such a good little girl.” He coos at the sight before him, your shaking figure, coming down from your high, and rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure. 

He can’t help himself anymore—his pace becomes relentless, and he indulges his body forward closer to you, burying his face on your neck. “Fuck, princess.” You whimper at the burning feel of his untrimmed scruffy beard.

“Come.” 

Oh, you want to order him around now?

“Come, Daddy. Need your cum so bad, pleasepleasepleas—” 

Nevermind.

In your neck, he lets a roaring grunt as his cock twitches and swells inside of your dripping pussy. “Jesus Christ.” He huffs every time he spurts his release, his thrust going weaker and slower. Yet the pleasure that you deride him for is inescapable. No amount of power could take him away from you. He makes sure of that.

His breath finally comes back to him, and so does your senses, little by little. You whimper as you feel his cum gushing out of your hole, “Daddy-”. 

But he keeps his position still, his legs grounded to the floor—he just kisses your temple, then your cheeks, then your lips. “Shh. Daddy’s here. Daddy’ll take care of you.” He coos at your hair, kissing the crown of your head. 

He decided that he’d have you like this for the night. Seated atop of his muscular thighs—full of his seed and spent. 

Daddy always takes care of you.

[luveline]

I love ur writing 💕 can I request something where reader is dense sortof/has low self esteem, so she likes hotch, admires him and would love to date him but can't imagine he would view her that way,, so he has to be really obvious with his advances? Not self indulgent at all 👉👈 no worries if not. Love u!

Hotch has to break the news that he’s been pursuing you. fem, 2k

Hotch would like to call you unassuming in the kindest way possible. Unassuming, in that not everyone who looks at you would find themselves immediately aware of your beauty (an old-fashioned way to put it, and true), because your poor self esteem leaves you shy. 

You don't believe anyone would want you. It doesn’t matter to Hotch beyond a weary heartbreak for you, as he doesn’t mind if it takes time to convince you. He only wishes you’d have more confidence. You’re pretty and you deserve to know it. 

“Hello,” he says, with intent to try again. 

You like him. He’s a grown man and a good judge of character, better of action, and he’d like to think that your sudden grimace whenever he speaks is again this cloud of insecurity rather than a true dislike for him. You have to warm up to him every day, but you do warm. 

“Hi, Hotch.” 

And listen, he’s not one to flirt at work, but if he ever wants a real shot with you, he has to be heavy-handed. “Hi,” he repeats, smiling, “how are things today?” 

You’re assistant office administrator for the BAU, and so Hotch isn’t technically your boss, but you do work beneath him. “Things are the same as always.” 

“Not too hard for you, then.” 

You catch his teasing, which is a new development. “Not too hard for me,” you say.

He doesn’t pretend he has reason to hang around. He thinks it might’ve contributed to you not believing he’s interested; he’d drop by with coffee because you seemed tired, or checked in on issues that didn’t need his supervision, and you’d taken every extra minute spent at your door as his attentiveness to his job, rather than an affection for you.

He stands with his hand on the doorway and just looks at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“You look beautiful today.” 

You touch the button at your neck. “It’s too much for work.” 

“No.” You’re wearing normal business casual clothing. You’ve pulled a necklace over your sweater, soft collar of a shirt kissing your throat. He imagines you’re wearing regular pants and flats or maybe a skirt and short heels beneath the desk, it doesn’t matter. “It’s not just what you’re wearing. You look pretty.” 

You could catch flame if something sparked near you. Lost, your lips part, and eventually you squeeze out a timid, “Thank you, Hotch.” 

 “Aaron.” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Can we get coffee?” He dislikes the panic in your eyes and regrets how casual he sounded. “Can I get you a coffee?” 

“I’m okay.” 

“Well, maybe we can take lunch together?” 

“Have I done something?” 

“Have you?” he asks. 

He feels… young. Haley was the only woman he’d been with at a time, and casually there have been others now, but you’re the first woman he’s attempted to woo like this. He sometimes forgets that you’re shy and that he’s been married, distracted by his fizzing, almost joyful feelings for you. Flirting with you is a pleasure. 

You lick your lips quickly. “Where did you want to go? For lunch?” 

He was thinking you could bring your sandwich to his desk, but what you’re asking is a thousand times better. “Where do you want to go? Melanie’s?” he suggests. 

You breathe out in a strange laugh. “For lunch?” 

No, perhaps not. It’s rather fancy. “Somewhere nice, at least,” he says. 

“I don’t know where’s nice.” 

“Well, we can find somewhere. I’ll try to find somewhere before one, what do you think?” 

“Okay.” 

He smiles. “Okay.” 

He’s pulling away from the doorway when you stand up from your rolling chair and say his name, a near yelp, “Hotch! Wait, uh, wait a second.” 

He immediately turns back. “What?” he asks, giving you a quick once over. 

“Are you sure I’m not in trouble for something?” you ask. To your credit, you give a bashful little laugh. “I feel like I’m walking into a trap.” 

“I have no intentions of trapping you anywhere.” 

“Please don’t fire me at Melanie’s.” 

He smiles at you again and leaves your alcove of the office to head back to his own. Around the desks and the bullpen where his team sit doing their paperwork, up the stairs to the landing. He pauses before he goes inside.

JJ’s standing behind Derek’s desk. They’re chatting, JJ sipping at a mug, a small smile on her lips. Spencer watches her from his own desk. He doesn’t like her anymore to Hotch’s knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling at her with that slight thread of lovelorn shyness when she asks him what he’s so busy doing. 

Hotch has a moment of clarity at his desk when he realises he needs to find somewhere perfect to take you come lunch time. You hadn’t seemed convinced of your job security when he’d left you, and he spends some time pondering how best to accommodate you as he sorts thought Quantico’s best cafes and restaurants. 

He has emails to answer, phone calls to take, and to make. Time moves quickly, and by 1:02 he’s all sorts of late. It’s almost 1:12PM when he’s again at your office door, a warm plastic bag against his side. 

You’re looking at your lap. Coat in your hands, lip nibbled raw, there’s an internal conversation happening that he’s not privy to. He doubts he’d like it very much —the agony of self-doubt is written plainly in your slouch. 

He knocks your door, feeling very sorry for your startled jump. “Hi. Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I thought I’d bring dinner to you.” 

He thought of it like this: if he were to take you to dinner, you could explain it away as a professional superior who was going to fire you and changed his mind, or a superior checking in on his employee, or a superior simply being kind. He has, on occasion, taken different members of his team or office out to discuss things in their lunch hours because he was busy and needed their time at a convenient hour. You might not think anything of it. 

Right now, Hotch really wants you to think something of it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Is that okay with you, if we stay here?” 

It’s a little much for you, apparently. You finally tip into incredulity. “Aaron, is everything alright? I really don’t understand what’s going on.” 

“I’d like to eat lunch together.”

“But why?” 

“Because you’re good company.” He’s sat knee to knee with serial killers, and his next sentence is still scary, “Because I like you, and I’m not sure how else to show it.” 

You press your coat to your stomach, frowning. “You like me.” 

“I was under the impression that you liked me too,” he says, smiling despite you and himself. Hotch might be a drill sergeant and a bully all those terrible moody stations as a boss, but he’s also just a man, and there’s little room for stoicism in love. 

“But you…” 

He waits, but then feels too sorry for you to let you flounder. “Honey, I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve tried compliments, I brought you that plant,” —he points to the still blooming orchid on your window— “I ask you what your plans are every weekend.” He looks swiftly behind him. Alone, he edges into your office to close the door and allow some privacy. “And every weekend I ask you if you want to get a drink. I’d think you didn’t like me if it weren’t for your tell.” 

“What’s my tell?” 

Your hand. Whenever he’s around, you take something into your hand and squeeze at it or feel it like you’re going to explode with nerves. He saves you the explanation, and instead lays his most gentle look on you. “If I’m wrong, please let me know. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but you’re lovely.”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you say, semi-disbelieving. “You never do. I'm just confused.” 

“I’d really like to get to know you as more than a colleague.”

“You know me,” you mumble. 

He does. He knows what your favourite colour is, your favourite food, your soccer team. He sent you flowers on your birthday, asks after your sick neighbour, and checks your office light every night when he goes home, though he knows what time you leave each evening. And he knows that you’re scared to admit to liking him or anyone, because you worry you’re not allowed. 

“I do,” he agrees, giving the plastic bag a jostle. He doesn’t need big answers now. “Can I sit down?” 

You might not have a big answer to give, but your expression tells a story nonetheless. You wheel your seat backward and he pulls a spare chair toward your desk, your smile like an adornment as you push aside your things to make room. You smile so hard it changes your entire face. 

“Do you have napkins?” you ask, not so subtly breathless as he places the bag down and pushes the plastic back. 

He pulls out a wedge of them. You pinch them, and for a second the both of you hold them, your eyes meeting, your cheeks appled with matching smiles. 

“I thought the orchid was for secretary’s day,” you say quietly, taking the napkins. 

“You aren’t a secretary,” he says, holding out a plastic fork. 

When you go to grab it, he moves it up out of the way. Your startled laugh is beautiful. Totally stunning. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted the quiet intimacy of teasing you over lunch until he had it. 

You grab the fork before he can move it again. “Too slow,” you say. 

“Oh, you think so?” he asks. 

“I know so, Aaron. Who has the fork?” 

Aaron, he thinks. Finally, Aaron. “You have the fork, but I have your lunch. I’d tread carefully if I were you.” 

[muntitled]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

→ Mingyu x Fem!reader

→ Summary: "If you wanted me to get you pregnant so bad, all you had to was ask."

→ Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Businessman au, Humour, Slight!Body Dysmorphia, Insecurities, Workaholic!Reader, Shy!Reader, Slight Male Manipulation, Slight!Angst, Smut (+18), Semi!Public Sex, Slight Coercion, Needy!Mingyu, He Whimpers, Pervy!Mingyu, Corruption Kink, Desperate Sex, Massive Breeding kink, Mingyu has a choking kink, and a Praise kink, Slight!Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex

Mingyu likes getting choked, pls argue with the wall

The dollop of heat in your stomach steadily grew into a pool of molten lava throughout the duration of the award ceremony. The entire televised event was supposed to be in celebration of your husband and the diligence he has extended to the company for all of 2 decades.

Instead, most of the evening is spent nursing your anxiety with a flute of champagne, while you attempt to not sweat through your very expensive makeup under the heat of multiple strobe lights.

Mingyu, sitting at the table beside you serves as your only anchor, keeping your feet planted firmly to the ground while the rest of the table exchange pleasantries involving baby pictures and ultrasounds.

The dread in your stomach only multiplies.

You've been made privy to how they speak about you and your husband behind gloved hands in hushed whispers. A husband who has had to be burdened with a wife whose internal clock was no match for the importance of a career. Perhaps they thought you were too self important and too driven. Perhaps that explains why you were always invited to events out of courtesy and never out of true interest. Perhaps-

"Stop that." Mingyu's voice travels to your ear at a low and conspiratorial baritone while the rest of wives and husband at the table talk animatedly.

"Stop what?" You ask while Mingyu draws your attention to his hand now resting on your thigh underneath the table.

"Don't play with me. I can tell when you're overthinking," He says, letting his palm brush over the sequins of your pitch black dress. It matched his all black suit to rude perfection, truly making you believe you were the best dressed couple in the whole event. "If you're gonna be thinking about something, I'd rather it be the likelihood of me eating you out in this dress after we're done."

His words succeed in dragging your thoughts away from the happy couples and their happy families and you meet his eyes and the amusement swimming within them.

"Is sex really all you think about-"

Mingyu answers your question by suddenly grabbing a hold of your hand and forcing your palm over his lap until your palm is lightly grazing the bulge forming there.

"Let's hope this ends soon so we can get the fuck out of here." The rest of the event was spent with you, staring down at the table in a mindless, lustful daze while Mingyu still guided your palm up and down the bulge in his pants. It was conspicuous enough for it to look like his hand was simply resting atop yours, if anyone really got particularly nosy. Luckily, everyone else was too drunk on overpriced soju to recognize Mingyu's forced self pleasuring while he took casual little sips from his glass intermittently.

You were both relieved once it was time to go home.

This inability to adapt into the upper echelons of housewife society had not bothered you initially and it certainly did not bother your husband. In fact, someone as aloof and optimistic as Mingyu was seldom concerned with the matters of holding face for a backwards capitalistic society.

"If we weren't rich I thoroughly believe we would be those 'eat the rich' people." Mingyu announces as he trails into the bathroom behind you. The overhead lights bathe the bathroom's onyx accents in a dim light, successfully relaxing you and easing the bundle of knots that had built up in your shoulders.

Mingyu seems equally pleased to be back home, kicking off his Abercrombie loafers and watching them fly into a corner while he undoes the buttons of his jet black dress shirt. His tall frame is hunched over as he wraps his arms around your stomach, allowing you to lead him to the bathroom sinks with heavy footsteps like a 187 centimetre baby.

You, of course, do not object when he pushes his head into the space between your neck and shoulder as you begin to brush your teeth. If the award ceremony was as draining for him as it was for you, then this truly is the first moment he is able to let himself go the entire day.

"I think we can still be those 'eat the rich' people because it's not like we're rich by choice, right?" Seeing your husband constantly run the risk of impending communism would be amusing, were it not for the sour taste still present in your mouth from the work event Mingyu had just taken you too.

"At least you got to watch me in my element-" He grumbles against your skin before begrudgingly peeling himself off of you to make his way to his side of the bathroom,

"Ugh," Mingyu groans with exaggeration as he commences with his skin care, "You literally got to watch your sexy and talented husband accept a corporate award in a room full of people. I'm so jealous of you,"

"Ugh, I know!" You nod back, "Jihoon looked so good on that podium. Remind me to send him a message later." You evade Mingyu's deadpan look through the oval shaped mirror as you continue to brush.

"On a serious note, Gyu, I'm glad you had fun while I was being forced to entertain those industry housewives." You momentarily stop your brushing, "I'm thoroughly overwhelmed by ultrasounds!" You exclaim frustratedly through a gurgle of toothpaste. The very thought of those women shot your blood pressure to hell.

Their idealistic lives and their idealistic vaginas that could somehow push out a steady stream of babies before snapping back as if nothing ever happened. Business as usual.

Meanwhile, your body threw a tantrum the very second you even had a vague thought of eating something outside the bounds of your diet.

Mingyu adored every part of you - you know this - but that nauseating feeling of inadequacy always crept up on you in moments of weakness.

You sigh, "I think those women have magical vaginas."

"Hey." Mingyu says, patting down his face, "All women have magical vaginas but you especially."

You swiftly ignore him and continue your furious brushing as you say, "Every single day it's 'This one is pregnant!' 'This one wants to get pregnant,' 'This one is trying to get pregnant!'" You rant, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu watches you through the mirror as you continue.

"'I'm not quite sure when it became socially accessible for couples to just air out their breeding kinks to the public-" an ungentlemanly snort escapes through Mingyu's mouth and he pauses to shake his head and compose himself.

"I'm ultra-sounded out!" You exclaim, finally bending over to spit out a wad of toothpaste. In your periphery, Mingyu watches you with that passive look of contentment and unwavering adoration that almost never seems to leave his face in your presence.

Despite his overly humorous tendencies at times, Mingyu also harboured the habit of reading in between the lines - he had to, not only for his job but for his romantic life as well. Being blessed with a shy partner meant Mingyu had to dig just a little deeper past the veneer of everything you say, to get just a little closer to what you actually meant.

Your shyness and stoicism is what initially drew him to you in the first place. Always beating around the proverbial bush to protect your most sacred dignity and independence. It was always a struggle for Mingyu but it turned him on way too easily to picture his put-together, independent little wife needing him in a way she might not even know.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask quietly, lifting your head before reigning your braids into a ponytail.

"How am I looking at you?" Mingyu asks in a voice way too husky to harbour any sense of professionalism.

"Are you seriously turned on right now?" There is no use in denying it because Mingyu knew you could read him like an open book. There's a soberness that hits him when he's turned on.

He jokes less than usual and assumes a more… slutty disposition that neither him nor you have ever been able to tame. Mingyu rubs the excess cream into his hands before leaning against the marble countertops. He watches you with a small, dangerous smirk that sends a flurry of butterflies swimming the pits of your stomach.

"If you wanted me to get you pregnant so badly, all you had to do was ask." His sentence bulldozes through the silence, steals the air right out of your lungs and nearly sweeps your feet out from underneath you. The world practically spins for a second but you grapple desperately onto your sensibilities for your sensibilities are one of the very few things you can arm yourself against your husband's slutty seduction.

"I think I could've squeezed you into my busy schedule," He chuckles lightly before stepping forward.

Almost automatically you step backwards, which evidently gets Mingyu way too excited. He raises his eyebrows with a slight before he's closing the distance between the two of you with 2 wide strides.

The light pouring down from the ceiling suddenly feels too warm, and the air feels like you've teleported to a crowded bazaar in the centre of the desert. You refuse to make eye contact with Mingyu, looming over you. You only splay a hand against his chest as you attempt to chuckle.

"You're being ridiculous." You say, "If you need to cum so bad, use your hand."

"Nah," He shakes his head without ever breaking eye contact, "That would be a waste, wouldn't it?" Mingyu's eyes frantically search your features for the same traces of lust so shamelessly displayed across his own visage. His lips are parted with his quiet breathing. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

It felt like a betrayal on everything you held dear, admitting that the idea of him cumming inside you with the purpose of getting you pregnant turned you on. It felt like a betrayal on your career and your goals and aspirations.

However, Mingyu's sensibilities are completely clouded by unshakeable lust. He is so easily stimulated by every single thing about you, the softness of your body, the familiarity of your scent and the mental image of seeing you actually pregnant with his child. It has him pushing you further against the bathroom wall until the coolness of the stone sank steadily through your night dress.

Mingyu's hand immediately rips the offending article of clothing, pushing your night dress up slowly and feeling his own cock ache at how you silently comply.

"It's really easy, baby. I just need you to tell me you want me to cum in that little pussy of yours and I'll do it. Just wanna…" Mingyu's incoherence during states of exceptional lust always succeeded in making you absolutely wet. He became an insatiable, talkative and blubbering mess.

"...Just wanna make you happy," His breathing picks up almost as easily as yours, and inside himself, Mingyu releases a shotgun prayer that you want this just as bad as he does. He hopes your mind has been flooded with the exact same fantasies of him, sliding his bare cock into your soaking cunt. Him ramming into you and finishing inside of you and-

"Ah- fuck," He hisses, unable to get your panties down all the way before he's letting his fingers drift across your slippery folds. "Look at how wet you are, baby. You really do want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy, don't you?"

Mingyu's cock twitches uncomfortably in his pants while he drifts his fingers over your puffy clit, pulling a strangled moan from your throat.

"Feels good, baby?" He whimpers before slotting his hips between your legs. Mingyu's breath is warm against the side of your face as he continues to rub infuriating circles on your clit. "I can make you feel even better baby… if you let me fuck you, I can make us both feel good, yeah?" He's a whining mess - you both are as your hips move in tandem against his hands.

"Fuck, baby I need you to tell me you want this. I need you to tell me I can throw away the condoms, that I can cum inside you-"

"F-Fuck, Daddy," Your slip-up would've gone perfectly unnoticed, were it not for the heavy, almost oppressive silence between the two of you in the bathroom. Mingyu's ears perk up like a puppy that had just heard his favorite word, and he pulls himself away to gaze deeply into your eyes with adoration and awe. Mingyu's pink lips hang open as he scrambles back up to his height. He cups your cheeks with both hands, and you lean into his warm calluses as his thumbs rub gentle circles on your cheek.

The kiss he leaves on your nose is delicate and romantic.

The perfect calm before the proverbial storm.

Mingyu then nods slowly as he says, "Well now I'm definitely going to fuck you," the conviction and the bass in his voice urges a pathetic whimper through your lips and you're left to comply limply as Mingyu places a palm on your exposed thigh. He lifts you up until your leg is locked firmly around his hip and he's almost perfectly slotted between your bare legs. The feeling of having him so close to you, in such a starkly intimate position leaves you both momentarily speechless and you're watching each other as if terrified of breaking this spell of lust.

Mingyu is deliberate in his actions as he moves his hand to pull his cock out of his pants, all without breaking eye contact.

"Don't play with me like this, baby," it's the most serious he has ever been, and your back is almost moulded to the wall as Mingyu lines the tip of his aching cock to your dripping cunt. "I was literally so close to cumming in my pants, so if you're playing with me right now-"

"Mingyu," your voice is airy as you push your hips forward, taking initiative, as you always did, until the head of his cock was prodding your entrance. He shivers greatly before stealing a glance down at his cock entering you so swiftly, before he gazes deep into your eyes once more.

"If you want me…" Mingyu whispers as he fully sheathes his cock inside you, overcome by yet another violent shiver. "Baby, you have me."

The first thrust is nearly cataclysmic and he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot. Seeing him so incredibly turned on, so ready to burst at the seams has your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper and deeper until his gigantic cock was stretching your cunt to what felt like its limits. That second thrust completely drains him of all his composure and soon Mingyu's fucking you relentlessy into the wall as if he both hated you and loved you and did not know which was which.

Your mouth hangs open as you watch him absolutely ravage you. His dark eyes are hooded with lust and he's babbling his incoherent sentences while his long, messy hair brushes over his cheeks. He is absolutely fargone as he thrusts his hips into you, while his other hand is stationed against the wall above you. "Thank you for letting me do this, baby," he damn near whimpers as he pushes himself harder and faster into you, unable to stop the neediness from sinking into his tone. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"

"You're doing so well baby" You whisper, causing his hips to stutter against yours while a pained moan releases itself from your throat.

Your mouth is still hanging open and Mingyu takes the opportunity to dip down and crash his lips onto yours. The kiss is furious and desperate and you realise this is exactly what you love about him. You appreciate how easy it is to please him, how unashamed Mingyu is of displaying his emotions. He is loud and passionate and it drives you absolutely insane.

"Fuck-I'm close," He breathes, as he peppers kisses along your face. His hand squeezes desperately at your breasts as he pants in your ear. "Tell me to cum inside you- pleasepleaseplease,"

You are operating purely on the lust distributed from Mingyu's incessant whining and whimpering until an idea strikes you so vividly you almost wonder why you had not done this before.

In between your feverish panting and Mingyu's ravaging motions, you delve your head into his hair before peeling his face away from you. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion before you slither your hand down to lock your palm around the his throat. Your hand doesn't fully enclose his neck but you succeed in adding pressure, causing the man before you to roll his eyes into the back of his skull in absolutely ecstasy-

"Oh fuck-I'm cumming-" his body spasms before you in a euphoric daze, quickly triggering your own orgasm as you continue to choke him and move your hips in tandem with his cock.

"Fuck, oh fuck!" He swears as he clamps his hand around your thigh as if begging to spread you wider, to push in deeper until he's filling you up completely with his load. It's messy and so wildly intimate, you're both lost in the crevices of your own respective pleasure. How anyone could make someone feel as completed as you two currently feel is so unimaginable, you both struggle to find the words. Mingyu is a panting mess above you while you attempt to ease your runway heart.

It strikes you then that you're perhaps afraid, now that the lust has cleared that the post nut clarity might rid him of his earlier statements.

All you do is watch as he places another kiss on the tip of your nose before easing his cock out of you.

"I'll run out to buy Plan B tomorrow. You don't have to -"

He shushes you almost immediately as he pads over the bathroom sink. Mingyu hums softly as he ruffles through the medicine cabinet until he finds what he's looking for. All you can do is watch as he dumps the entire contents of your birth control pills down the toilet. He never breaks eye contact, only maintaining a wide slightly manic smile.

<3

© to @mphountitled on tumblr; do not repost

[paperultra]

hammock.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive

“You’re blushing.”

“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”

You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.

“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.

His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”

“Not even if you hated me?”

“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”

(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)

Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.

Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”

He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”

The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.

“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”

The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.

You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.

“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”

“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”

“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”

He visibly droops. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”

The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.

You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.

“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)

“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.

With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.

“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”

“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”

Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."

“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”

“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”

The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.

“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”

[xazse]

Warnings: KittyHybrid!Reader: ears and a tail that’s all + Prince!Satoru + Chubby!Reader + dryhumping + consensual somnophilia + mentions of Prince!Suguru, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna + Fem!Reader + Royalty Au

Imagine Satoru’s parents gifting Prince!Gojo a pet, a different type of pet, you’re a hybrid, a human with ears and a tail. Usually your kind is sought upon to be tested on and even used as maids. Everyone wants their hands on hybrids they go for millions of dollars because of how rare they are.

So when his parents call for him to come to the throne room he’s apprehensive thinking they were gonna introduce him to another princess, one he doesn’t even want. He thinks they’re all the same, so ready to pop out a baby to get that title.

When his parents have the maids bring you in he’s in awe, you’re a pretty thing too, he knows you were so fucking expensive just by the color of your fluffy ears and tail. A chubby thing he can’t keep his eyes off.

The dress you have on brings out your curves nice and plump he’s already obsessed.

“One of those Cathybrid ladies Satoru.” His dad is the first to speak, he beckons you over and you obediently follow to stand at his side.

“All for you my beautiful boy, you’ve been working extremely hard, no more sneaking out or causing trouble. We are very proud of you.” His adoring mother says in a soothing tone.

“She’s yours to do what you want with, she comes from a bad place be wary of that Satoru.”

His parents tell him to leave and become familiar with you.

Satoru doesn’t consider himself to be a shy person but right now he can’t even speak, you’re both sat on his bed sitting in silence, it’s really killing him, he wants to

Tell you just how pretty you are but he needs to be cautious not creepy.

With baby steps and lots of patience Satoru and you are finally comfortable with each other, maybe you’re too comfortable. You won’t leave Satoru alone at all, you constantly whine to be with him at all times.

He needs to go to an important meeting? You’re there right by his side always. His parents have had to reprimand you both for being too touchy in public, no you can’t secretly sneak off just to suck on Satoru’s thick tongue.

Satoru loves when you’re both in his room and in the midst of the cuddling session you start purring it’s so rare but so damn cute, you don’t even seem to recognize you’re doing it, you just look so content laying on him and rubbing all over him secretly purring.

The licking gets him too, he can’t help but slip his hand into his pants when you lick his chest, he fondles his cock till he cums on himself, his loud whines from the pleasure feel way too good.

He fondles your tail and ears to get you going, you’re both too shy to go any further than just dry-humping each other but it does get the job done, by the end of the session your both covered in sweat and underwear ruined with how wet they are.

He loves the extra fat on your body, it drives him insane, Prince!Satoru won’t admit it but he loves dragging his fat cock on your clothed plump ass from time to time when your sleep, you’ve said you don’t mind and that he’s free to do what he pleases but that’s all he’ll do just hump away till he cums again and again in his pants.

Prince Satoru and his cute kitty!hybrid that he just adores to the point where he loves showing you off to the other princes mainly: Suguru, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna.

They’re extremely jealous, they’ve been trying to find something like you but keep coming up empty so all they can do is get crumbs of information Satoru gives.

He’s always bragging about how you won’t leave him alone how they’re so unlucky to not have you.

When they talk to you they find that you’re extremely friendly, so friendly that you don’t mind when they give you tight hugs or maybe small kisses on the cheek. Prince Sukuna has tried and failed to get you to be with him many many times, everytime you give him that confused tilt and say you’re Satoru’s.

Sweet Prince Nanami makes sure to always gives you pretty roses that you just love, Satoru always has to win your affection back by giving you an even bigger bouquet of flowers.

[landoughnut]

My Girlfriend

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - charles leclerc x fem!reader

♡ summary - at first you were worried about going with charles to the paddock for the first time since you got together, you didn't want to make a bad impression on anyone, what you both least expected was for everyone to like you more than him!

♡ warnings - somewhat possessive charles, lots of fluff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.07k | ahh im so excited this is my first for this account! please please send any requests you have cause I cant really think of ides ahaha xoxo

"Charles are you sure, they'll like me? I just-"

"Mon amour, they will love you," he kisses your forehead, "I promise". Walking hand in hand with him towards where everyone is, he feels you squeezing his hand.

Charles and you have been dating for a while already, but you'd kept it a secret from almost everyone else due to how harsh people can be. He wanted to protect you from all the nasty comments people may make, but now you are making your first public appearance.

You weren't a well-known figure or model like the other wags, although Charles has told you many times you can most definitely be one if you wanted to. He met you when he went to buy flowers for his mother, Pascale, and claims that it was love at first sight.

Finally, you get to where hundreds of fans crowded behind a gate, they start yelling when they see you two.

Charles wraps his arm around your waist as you two get closer so he can sign some stuff as he's passing by.

"Charles! Charles, who's this?"

"Is this your girlfriend?"

"She's beautiful, Charles!"

People shout many things along those lines making you blush and Charles smile. He kisses your head again as you give them a shy wave, cheeks pink.

Charles finishes a hat he's signing as introduces you to the crowd, "This is my lovely girlfriend," he speaks and is shocked at how loud the crowd was. Clapping, wolf-whistling, and awing. He hadn't heard one nasty comment, not that there was anything to hate on you for, but it's shocking to see the overwhelming amount of positivity.

"Hi, everyone," you speak, smiling at the people.

"Here! Take this!" a little girl yells holding out a bracelet.

Charles steps forward, "Thank y-"

"No no!" the girl takes her hand back, making him furrow his eyebrows, "for you, miss! You are very pretty."

Your eyes widen, "Me?" She nods and you crouch down to her, "Wow! It's gorgeous," you beam. It was a red beaded bracelet with Charles' initials and number on it. "I love it, thank you so much, sweetie!"

Charles' heart races and his stomach flutters watching you with the young girl, and then when you interact with the others, who seem to be giving you heart eyes at this point.

His eyes narrow at some men looking a little too intensely, so he catches up to you and puts his arm around your shoulder. You lean into him as he waves bye to the fans. You blow a kiss, making them get loud once again, and then walk with Charles to where the drivers were hanging around.

"You see, mon cœur, they adored you," he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your palm.

You let out a happy sigh, "They were a bit louder than I thought, but it was such a relief."

Arriving where the others were, Lando was the first one to spot you two. "Ah! Look who we have here! Charles and the girlfriend who he told but not showed," he grins.

You smile and lean a bit more towards Charles, "Hello," your voice quiet. These were your boyfriends friends, if they didn't like you-

You feel Charles give your waist a light squeeze, taking you out of your thoughts.

"Wow, no wonder Charles didn't bring you here yet," Lando grins and puts his hand on Charles' shoulder, "you've got yourself a stunner. Scared someone's gonna whisk her away, are you?"

You laugh and feel yourself relax, "Oh hush!"

You look behind Lando and see Daniel, Oscar, Max, Carlos, and Lewis coming over.

They all greet you and for the next few minutes all of you are having a great time together, laughing, making jokes, and it's as if you've all been friends forever.

Charles frowns as he watches, none of them even glances at him, too engrossed with you telling some stories from your floral shop. After a few more minutes he decided he had enough and walks over to you.

"Mon amour, why don't we head to my drivers room, I'll show you around," he smiles, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Alright, love. It was nice meeting you all! I'll see you guys soon!" You smile and they reciprocate it as you walk off.

Lewis and Max whistle in sync, "What a woman."

Charles huffs and hits his shoulder, "My woman, you mean."

Carlos chuckles, "Awh, is little Charles jealous?" Lando and Oscar laugh, glancing at each other.

"I'm not jealous," he frowns, crossing his arms. "It's just everyone we've seen today is fawning over her and it's like I'm not even here! Some of these people are ogling her like I, her boyfriend, am not right next to her!"

Danny shakes his head smiling, "Well, mate, she's a real sweetheart, what did you expect?"

"Well- I don't know! But she's waiting for me so... I'll see you guys later," he rolls his eyes as he hears his friends whistling as he walks towards you.

His eyes light up when he spots you chewing your lip, seemingly lost. "There you are!"

You turn towards him, "Thank goodness you're here! I was scared to ask for directions," you laugh.

"Good thing I'm here to be a guide then," he takes your hand gently and brings you into his room.

The moment the door is closed his lips are on yours, one hand cupping your face and neck and the other around your waist.

It took you a moment but you were kissing him back with the same passion. "I've been waiting to do that," he whispers, lips brushing yours.

You smiles, kissing him against. The rhythm of your lips together expressing your love without words.

He slowly walks back until he hits the bed, then sits down and grins as you straddle his lap.

"You're my girlfriend," he whispers, tracing your face, "my love, my angel."

You study his face as he admires yours, "I love you," you whisper, kissing him gently.

"I love you more, I don't know how I got so lucky."

You smile and hold his face in your hands, kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, and finally pecking his mouth, which was swollen from before. "I'm the lucky one, you are everything, darling," you smile.

He twirls a piece of your hair, "Alright, now how about I show you around the garage before people start wondering where we are?"

[elssero]

project partner

k.bakugo

-in which you and bakugo get paired to work on a school project together ,sfw. angst!!!!! tw no happy endings ..

maybe you should’ve been paying more attention but your hero analytics class was so boring you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted.

it’s not like the view outside the window is any more interesting- at this point your just looking at anything in an attempt to drown out your teachers voice.

you catch a pair of birds on a tree outside- watching as they shuffle around each other awkwardly. god you wish you were one of those birds right now. you really hate this class.

“and yn, you’ll be partnered with uh- bakugo.”

wait what?

oh you’ve got to be kidding me.

you don’t even know what you’ve been partnered to work with him on? some sort of fake hero interview? god could your day get any worse.

you did not like bakugo. not one bit.

you didn’t like his ‘better than everyone’ attitude. you didn’t like the constant stupid scowl on his face. but most of all you didn’t like the way he spoke to your friends.

at the beginning of the year you’d made a conscious effort to befriend most of your classmates. never shying away from a conversation and offering your assistance whenever needed.

you knew what it was like to be strong, you’d always been a step ahead, seemingly excelling in everything you did. you guessed you had that in common with him.

however, what you didn’t have in common with him was his treatment of your classmates. you had never once wanted anyone too feel inferior to you, even if they were.

sure you were teasing- often joking around with many of your classmates but it was all in good faith. nothing like the actual insults bakugo often hurled at them.

you didn’t like him. not at all.

staring at aizawa with wide eyes he only gives you a shrug. you have absolutely no idea why he thought it would be a good idea to pair you and bakugo together- you’d never even spoken a word to each other in this class.

after reading out the rest of the pairings he dismisses the class, encouraging you all too make plans with your partners about scheduling time to work on the project he’d just given you, explaining you had a week to hand in two fully fledged professional looking interviews, one of your partner and of yourself with the other playing the interviewer.

you weren’t worried about your performance at something like this, being friendly and talking to people had never been a problem for you- at least not until it came to the blonde who was now making his way towards you. his signature frown on his face.

he huffs as he attempts to make himself comfortable in the seat next to you, still somehow looking incredibly uncomfortable.

you glance around at the other pairs in the room. brewing with jealousy as you see everyone already getting along- seemingly paired with someone their known to be friends with.

the boy beside you attempts to speak before you cut him off-

“okay look- i don’t want to be here any longer than i need too and i’m sure you don’t either.” you would normally grimace at the harsh tone of your voice- except it’s bakugo, so instead you continue on.

“i’ll spend tonight watching recent hero interviews too see what types of questions are currently trending, i’ll put us both together a series of questions we can ask each other.”

it’s better you do all the work, it means he can’t surprise you with some stupidly rude question. you don’t have to get along with him. you just have to do the project- get a good grade and go back to ignoring him.

“send me a copy of your schedule so i can work out a time that suits us both to film the interviews- they shouldn’t take too long, most interviews only last a little under an hour now a days.”

you don’t look at him as you speak to him, instead opting to drawing little cats in the corner of your page as you explain your plan to him.

“oh um- okay.” he pauses slightly before continuing speaking. “yeah- um i’ll send you my schedule.”

that was oddly easy? of course your glad he didn’t fight you on this, but to say you weren’t expecting at least a little challenge would be a lie.

deciding not to dwell on his weird behaviour you take this as a win- you get to dictate your entire project which is obviously what you’d rather. when the bell rings to signify the end of the day your beyond thankful to it for getting you away from the increasingly awkward silence your having with bakugo at the moment. getting up you don’t even bid him goodbye as you meet up with your friends while leaving the class to make your way to the dorms.

it’s jirou and mina you meet at the doorway- immediately accepting their invitation to join them on their walk home.

the walk isn’t long- you listen as your friends catch you up on the work they’d done with their partners during class- expressing their excitement to work on something more media based.

“so uh- how’s having bakugo as a partner?” you roll your eyes at your pink friend. it’s no secret that your not a fan of bakugo. infact you go out of way to make it very clear to your friends your feelings about the boy.

“it’s weird. he’s totally letting me do all the work- of course i’m not complaining but i thought he’d try to argue with me with at least once.” explaining how he’d acted to your friends you feel just as confused as you did in class.

“wait- you mean he didn’t argue with you once? not even a single time?” confirming minas question you keep walking. it is weird. you don’t think bakugo has ever done a paired project without being utterly horrible to whatever pour soul had been paired up with him.

“i mean are we really surprised? i can’t think of a single time he’s ever actually insulted you.” you look at your purple haired friend as she talks. she’s right.

you don’t know why, but since the beginning of first year bakugo had never once said anything mean to you. not since you’d kept up with him on the quick assessment on your first day.

it’s weird. god it’s so weird and your grateful someone else has noticed it. he’s always so mean. never thinking twice before hurling abuse at the rest of your class while he seemingly never even thinks of throwing some at you.

you rather it that way. it gives you the perfect excuse to never have to speak to him.

“wait your right…” mina currently looks deep in thought before a sly smile erupts on her face. “maybe he’s got a crush!”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. bakugo?? a crush?? even the idea sounds crazy. not once in your three years of being at UA had you ever heard of bakugo even being remotely interested in anything like that with anyone.

“bakugo definitely does not have a crush on me- are we sure he even has a romantic bone in his body?” jirou beside you laughs at that, a small chuckle escaping her. “it’s not the craziest explanation- maybe he’s got a soft spot.” you shoot her a kidding glare.

“don’t be silly guys. i’m sure there’s an actual reason- maybe he just can’t think of anything bad to say about me.” your thankful when the girls next to you both burst into giggles- giving you and opening to change the subject.

the idea scratches the back of your head the whole walk. you can’t stop thinking about it as you make your way into your own dorm, showering and changing before beginning to work on your project- your thirty minutes into the most recent mirko interview when you decide you need a break.

dinner. that will definitely solve your problems. your just hungry.

making your way into the kitchen your hopes of getting your mind off bakugo are immediately shut down as you see his figure behind the open fridge door.

for fucks sake.

it’s too late to turn around now. sucking it up you made your way over to one of the cupboards before taking out some bread- you’ll just make a sandwich. something quick to get you the fuck out of this kitchen.

you nearly make it out- your so close.

“so uh- how’s the project going?” your being punished. your now completely certain someone out there has something out for you.

“um yeah it’s going fine- i have your questions all written out i’m just getting started on mine.” you forced to look at him quickly when you place the bread back into the cupboard. it’s clear he’s just back from a very intense work out. the sweat in his hair makes that evident. he looks good.

what the fuck? you turn away quickly before he notices your quick stare as you pack up your food ready to take into your room.

“you did my questions first?” there’s a slight surprise in his voice as he questions you.

“uh yeah it was easier. there’s a lot more male heros so it was easier to find interview questions compared to females.” it’s a logical explanation- you miss the way his expression drops slightly when he listens to your reasoning.

“is that all your having to eat?” this is weird. is he making fun of you? no that’s not it. there’s not a mean tone in his voice- instead it’s something like concern.

“i’m not really hungry. just wanted a quick snack-“

“you should eat more.”

you need to get out of this kitchen. why is he being so nice to you? okay maybe he’s right. a sandwich is definitely not a hero course student meal but your currently far to confused and far too tired too care.

“goodnight bakugo.”

you don’t wait for his reply as you quickly make your way to the door, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck is going on right now. you debate making your way to minas room to debrief what just happened but decide against it. she’ll probably attempt to try and convince you about her stupid crush theory again and there’s absolutely no way that’s true.

the after effect of your late night hits you like a truck in the morning, after groggily getting up and forcing yourself to get ready you rush to class- nearly missing the bell while you step in only a few seconds before your teacher.

you spend the entire period in complete silence- focusing mainly on keeping yourself awake long enough to get home and go straight to sleep. your keeping your face up with your hand while it threatened to fall when you receive a note from your left.

you okay? you look like your seconds away from biting your desk. -k.b.

why on earth did he sign his initials on this stupid note as if you didn’t just watch him place it on your desk. you decide to take a minute to calm yourself so you don’t end up writing him back a mess of profanities.

you don’t even reply at all, deciding instead to crumple the note up extremely loudly before placing it in your pocket. you miss the dejected look on his face but you do hear the scoff. that bitch.

you can’t wait for the end of this stupid project, hoping that by the end of it you and bakugo will be able to go back to how you were before. he can go back to terrorising the rest of the class while you go back to ignoring him.

it’s beyond weird that he’s starting to talk to you. you assume he feels obligated because he’s your partner but you’d rather he just ignored you outwith strickly work related conversations.

your packing up for class when he nexts approaches you- placing a piece of paper in your hand as he walks by your desk.

“it’s uh- it’s my schedule.” right. you did ask him for that didn’t you? did he put this together last night? it’s extremely detailed- compiling exactly what he does everyday seven days a week, even having slots for studying and meal times.

scanning it over quickly you realise the only free time you share is saturday afternoon- tomorrow.

that works. if you get your interviews completely done during the weekend it means that this weird situation you’ve found yourself in with bakugo will be over by monday- it’s perfect infact.

“i’m free tomorrow afternoon too- i’ll meet you in the common room at 1 and we can spend a couple hours on it. hopefully we can have it done before dinner.”

“yeah um- that’s fine i’ll meet you at 1.” okay great. you take note of the fact this is the second plan you’ve made without bakugo arguing with you.

you leave the class in speed after that- wishing your friends a goodbye as you let them know you won’t be walking with them today, wishing to run straight to bed as your far too tired to spend time with them right now.

it’s hours later when you finally wake up- 7pm your clock reads. you’d really hoped that you would just have been able to sleep though the whole night- it seems the universe has other plans for you as you hear your stomach grumble. great.

your making your way down to the common room when you hear a mixture of voices from behind the wall.

“yeah it’s great- but bakugos the luckiest for sure. he’s working with yn on this and she always does well on this shit. maybe it’ll bring your hero media grade up.” it’s kaminari you hear first. your ears perk up when you listen to a mention of your name.

“yeah bakugo how is it? it’s gotta be great working with her. i’m totally jealous.” you manoeuvre quickly to hide yourself fully behind the wall now. they’ve not realised your here yet. you intend to listen fully to what they have to say about you.

“it’s alright- i guess.” you wish you could say you were surprised but alright? if he calls doing all the work for alright then you’ll never do anything for him ever again.

“come on bakugo there’s got to be more to it than that? you finally get her to talk to you yet-?” huh? what does he mean by that? finally getting you to talk to him?

“shut up shitty hair- it’s- no i haven’t!” he’s getting increasingly more frustrated as he continues.

“every time i attempt to make conversation she shuts me out completely. i- i don’t even know what im doing wrong.” his voice sounds rejected as he finishes his sentence. he’s been.. trying to talk to you?

why? it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. why after years of being in the same class- years of mutually ignoring each other why would he now make the decision he’s interested in talking to you?

you can’t listen to any more of this. forgetting all about your hunger you hastily make your way back to your dorm- attempting not to draw notice to yourself.

somehow finding yourself more tired than you were when you first made your way downstairs you flop yourself onto your bed with a confused sigh.

you just don’t get it. trying to wrack your brain for reasons why bakugo would all of a sudden decide he’s interested in you- you fail to find a logical reason.

maybe you should just sleep it off- after your interviews are done tomorrow you won’t have to speak to him ever again if your luckily. you can spend your days avoiding him during classes and in the corridors. it shouldn’t be that hard.

his friends words repeat in your mind. finally get you to talk to him? had he been interested in you for awhile? and for what?

maybe he had been looking for something to make fun of you for- it’s the only explanation you can come up with.

forging yourself to stop dreading over it you take that as your answer. bakugo katsuki is attempting to get close to you so he can find something to poke fun at you for.

you know in your mind that’s not it. even in your tired state you realise that the excuse your giving yourself isn’t the truth. however your far to exhausted- and apparently still hungry to let yourself stress over it any longer as you fall back into sleep.

your alarm wakes you up at a sharp 10am. it’s your emergency alarm for when you accidentally sleep in. fuck.

you have three hours before your supposed to meet bakugo and your already riddled with anxiety over it. waking up late forces you to miss your work out for the third day in a row- maybe you’ll be able to get one in later tonight.

opting to just start getting ready your able to take your time- an outfit choice isn’t needed, you’ll need to wear your hero costume if your doing “hero work.”

it’s 12 when you begin to start thinking about getting something to eat- your ready to leave now, your aswell heading down to the kitchen early.

your heading to your door when you get a knock, opening it expecting it to be one of your friends your shocked when you see- bakugo?

in his hand is a brown bag- the little logo of a local bakery is crumpled but you can still make it out, in the other is a coffee of some sort.

“you didn’t eat last night. picked you up something after my run.” of course he’d went on an early morning run- your almost jealous of his work ethic.

he got you breakfast? it smells good. you can’t remember the last time you went to that little bakery, you’d forgotten how much you missed it.

“how’d you know how i take my coffee?” his eyes shift to the floor at your question- nervousness clearly evident in his voice.

“i uh- i asked raccoon eyes. she said that’s always what you get.” of course he went to mina- it’s not wonder she keeps making crazy assumptions about the two of you.

you offer his a small smile when you answer him- maybe the first you’ve ever given him. “thank you bakugo.”

his eyes go wide at that- “um yeah it’s no big deal- i was getting something anyway.” did he eat it already? your foods still warm- it feels as though he ran straight here after getting it.

“you ready to go?” your snapped out of your trance when you tell him yes- picking up your bag you make your way to the training room that had been set up specifically for this project.

it looks like a real interview set- in the middle of the room is a long table with two chairs- both situated with microphones with a camera catching them both in shot.

you begin to set up straight away- bakugo insists on working on your interview first as a thanks for doing the rest of the work and you take him up on the offer, settling yourself into the seat of the interviewee as he situates himself beside you.

he looks slightly different from how he normally does- less angry, you think. he’s really gotten himself into character- dressing himself a smart-ish shirt, he’s put on his reading glasses, he looks kinda cute.

the lighting of the set is definitely doing wonders for him- you just hope it’s doing you the same justice. he coughs slightly next to you- seemingly to get your attention.

“you ready to go?” he’s looking at you patiently- urging you to take your time.

“i’m good to go- just try stay on script yeah?” your joking with him- similarly to how you would your other classmates. maybe this project isn’t so bad.

he does infact follow the script perfectly in the beginning- opening up your interview- introducing you to the “audience” as he begins the questions.

it’s the usual stuff- questions you’d answered a million times. who inspires you? why did you decide to be a hero? what type of hero do you wish to be? blah blah blah.

“if we asked your friends to describe what it’s like to be your friend- how would they describe it?” you love questions like these- you feel it gives fans a real feel for not only you as a hero- but you as a person.

“i’m hilarious- obviously. but if we’re being completely serious i’d probably describe myself as helpful? i always find joy in being able to help my friends with things their struggling with- it helps i get too tease them about it too.” you flash the “interviewer” a smile to only be met with a deadpan expression.

did you say something wrong? you thought that was a perfect answer- it paints you as a kind but funny person. what’s his problem?

“why do you do that?” his interviewer tone is gone now- seemingly given up on his part.

“do what?” your voice is laced in confusion but in reality your angry. it had been going so well up until now- no arguments, no insults- just getting the project done and now your going to have to start the whole interview all over again.

“your nothing like that- at least not to me.” he’s grumbling as he says it- looking directly at you with that same frustrated expression.

“what are you talking about.” your firm when you say it- edging him to just get to the point of whatever tangent he’s about to go on so you can get back to work.

“you-? it’s just you! your fuckin’ friends with everyone- it pisses me off.” your mouth is slightly agape- what does who your friends with have anything to do with him? you don’t reply.

“it’s just- everyone fuckin’ loves you- apparently your so fuckin’ great to everyone but i can never get that out of you-“ anger is rising in his voice as he continues- getting more and more frustrated as he keep struggling to explain how he feels.

“your always such a fuckin’ bitch to me- always ignoring me- never giving me the time of day and everything thinks m’ fuckin’ crazy because your just soo good.” your anger is suddenly matching his- your such a bitch to him?? does he have any idea about the way he treats people?

“oh that’s fucking rich coming from you- your maybe the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. no wonder i don’t wanna speak to you.” your furious- who does he think he is?? that he thinks he can dictate how you act towards people.

“what?” the tone is his voice is changed now- the anger that was there a second ago seems to have vanished- now replaced with sadness.

“and you ignore me too!- don’t act like our lack of communication is all my fault.” now it’s his turn to be in shock- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you act like this before.

“your right bakugo- i am a bitch. i’m a bitch to you because i can’t stand you. i don’t like you, not one bit. your a horrible classmate- i can only imagine an even more horrible person just going by the way i hear you speak to people.”

you take a deep breath before you continue- finally allowing yourself to actually look at him- your vision a little blurry from anger, but you can see it clear as day- the complete expression of hurt written all over his face.

you wish you cared- you wished you maybe felt a little empathy for the boy but you don’t- you can’t. you’ve listened to the way he’s treated people for years and now that you’ve started you can’t stop.

“you don’t do it to me- i don’t know why and quite frankly i don’t care. but i hear it, i’ve heard it for years and i wont shy away from it anymore- i believe you to be a bad person bakugo, you’ll make a great hero- maybe. but that won’t change the fact i truly believe you to be a bad person.”

he still doesn’t say anything- the hurt in his face somehow even more evident as the tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

“right.”

he gets up without saying anymore more- grabbing his coat as he makes a b-line for the door- leaving you alone in this stupid interview set.

he’s such an idiot- and too think he really had a chance- of course you would see him for as he was.

he loved you- he had for years.

and you completely hated him.

[du-buk]

Hi! I appreciate the nice comments and support, especially on 8/11 day! 🦭💙 this is the 3rd, or 4th year of its release. (I should know this lol). However, I still wish to make some statements ⬇️

Thank you to everyone who support one guys work; ME! 8:11 is a huge passion project for me, and while I’m shy and never know how to react to compliments; just know that I appreciate all the support! The amount of fanart, fanworks, positivity, and support given towards me warms my heart. 💙🦭

I am often asked if the series will continue; it will, I am just a bit slow on the progress admittedly^^; financially it’s difficult to make time for it, and I’m working through a lot of my trauma in therapy at the moment. It’s what helps me create works for 8:11, like shown here!

(I also have to keep my eye in good health. Safety comes first!) however, I would appreciate if people listened to my mods+I when we ask people to refrain from breaking rules or being rude to my mods.

Please be patient with my mods and I.

I understand speaking in English can be difficult for some. I try to be accommodating for everyone, but excessively arguing with my mods about it stresses the team out. And we just want to have fun! Let’s all hold hands okay?

I want to create a fun environment for all 811 fans, even those across oceans and mountains. Let’s be kind to each other and if you see any nice fanworks, leave positive comments to encourage artists/creatives!

Thank you for all the support thus far again. And to make it clear; 🗣️ I hate p*dos, zoos, inc*st!!

🗣️Block and look away from those things. Don’t engage internet battles guys. I cannot control what some people create fanart of 8:11, I’m just one guy, and it’s best to just ignore what you don’t like seeing online.

🗣️ I stand with palest1ne, Ukraine, Sudan, human rights, and the environment!!!! Especially our earth and creatures that cannot vocalize their needs!!!!

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

love, lies, and first times

Summary: You were made to believe that your girlfriend, Hazel Callahan, lost her virginity to Stella-Rebecca some years ago. But when the truth is revealed during a game of truth or dare, your trust in her is shattered. What reason did she have to lie, and who did she actually lose her virginity to?

Pairing: loser!virgin!hazel x experienced!reader

Contains: mature language and content, lies, smut, fingering, oral, first time, kissing, drinking, tit play, both receiving, both giving, loser!hazel, sub!hazel, biblically!accurate!hazel, reader isn’t described as fem or masc

Word Count: 6k

A/N: soo one of my pet peeves when reading a hazel fic is when hazel keeps her rings on when fingering the reader and the reader likes it? Listen, I lost my virginity to someone who accidentally kept their rings on and it was painful. I had to ask them to take them off, highly unpleasant. I kinda make fun of that here, I hope some of y’all are ready to get called tf out ;)

“Hazel, truth or dare?”

You squeezed your girlfriend’s hand as PJ sent her a wicked grin. The senior class of the Rockbridge Fight Club had just graduated high school, and the club leaders, PJ and Josie, had decided to celebrate by throwing a party—one last ‘hurrah’ for the founding members. Now, you all sat in a circle in Josie’s dim basement, sipping poorly mixed jungle juice from red solo cups while David Fincher movies played on a vintage television in the background. Truth or dare was, of course, PJ’s idea—perhaps in the hopes that someone would dare her to kiss Brittany.

Hazel returned your squeeze, the cool metal of her rings pressing against your warm skin. “Truth,” she answered.

PJ’s lips curled into such a shit-eating grin, you began to wonder if maybe she really did eat ‘literal shit.’ “Who did you lose your virginity to?”

You smiled, already knowing the answer. Early into dating, you and Hazel had exchanged ‘first-time’ stories: yours had been with some girl at summer camp when you were sixteen, and Hazel had confessed to experimenting with Stella-Rebecca freshman year. She stressed that it was nothing romantic, simply two friends getting their first times out of the way, and then swore you to secrecy for the sake of Stella-Rebecca’s privacy. However, Stella-Rebecca was sitting right there, and you doubted she would appreciate Hazel exposing their previous affair to the entire group.

Sure enough, Hazel’s eyes widened as a blush crept upon her cheeks. “Uhhh…”

Her hand seemed to stiffen within yours, tightening its hold as her rings indented your skin. You glanced across the circle at Stella-Rebecca, who stared at Hazel with an expectant (and somewhat oblivious) smile.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you murmured to Hazel in an attempt to calm her, but her grip only further constricted.

PJ rolled her eyes. “Come on, Hazel, I gave you an easy one. Everyone knows you probably lost it to her,” she gestured towards you.

It was your turn to blush. “Actually, uh…” you looked towards your girlfriend, who seemed to have lost her ability to speak. “We haven’t really, uh…”

PJ gasped as her eyes almost popped out of her head. “No way! You two haven’t jacked each other off yet?”

It was true, you and Hazel had yet to take your relationship to that level. Not like you didn’t try, you had been dating for months, but Hazel seemed to shy away every time you so much as slipped a hand up her shirt. You knew you shouldn’t pressure her, but you were beginning to feel a bit unattractive—after all, Hazel had lost her virginity to a model. How could you possibly compare to that?

Josie, ever the peacemaker, decided to chime in. “Ok PJ, let’s back off a little bit…”

Hazel seemed to relax a bit at Josie’s words. She eased her grip, and you heard her exhale a breath you didn’t know she was holding.

“I have to admit, I’m a little curious myself.” Stella-Rebecca interjected, taking you by surprise. “Hazel never talks about her sex life.”

Your face contorted in confusion. Hazel tensed up again, but your attention was focused on the girl sitting across from you. “What are you talking about?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, sometimes we’ll be hanging out and the topic of sex will come up, and I’ll share some hookup story and she’ll just kind of… change the subject or something.”

There it was again, that familiar burn of envy like acid in your veins. “Maybe she’s jealous,” you suggested, words unintentionally dripping with venom.

Stella-Rebecca furrowed her brow, her expression innocent. “I doubt Hazel would be jealous of my sex life… unfortunately, it has more men than I think either of us would prefer.”

”Well, you were her first.”

“What?!” Stella-Rebecca exclaimed, her jaw dropping in shock. PJ cackled maniacally, clearly having the time of her life.

Hazel’s hand was clamped so tightly around yours that her knuckles were white, but you barely noticed as you stayed fixated on Stella-Rebecca. “I mean… yeah… weren’t you?”

Stella-Rebecca furiously shook her head. “Hazel and I have known each other our whole lives, but never like that. Besides, I didn’t come out as a lesbian until after you two started dating. Why did you think it was me?”

You felt like a complete moron. “I don’t know…” you muttered, glaring at your girlfriend. She refused to meet your gaze, staring down at her lap while shades of crimson painted her features. Her hand was still clasped around yours, but you forcibly removed it, too hurt to want to be touched.

“Ok, so, Hazel’s a prude. Glad we got that out of the way.” PJ sneered.

Josie reached over and smacked her arm. “So are you, PJ. Hypocrite.”

“I am not a prude, I’m a virgin.” PJ corrected. “There’s a difference.”

The game continued once the tension died down. No one dared PJ to kiss Brittany, so when it was her turn again, she took it upon herself to dare Brittany to kiss her, which the poor girl blatantly refused. After that, PJ pretty much lost interest and the game dissipated, with everyone breaking the circle to go off and do their own things. Josie and Isabel were tucked away in a corner, failing to be discreet during a heated makeout session. PJ had joined Brittany on the couch, while Brittany sipped her drink and scrolled through her phone, trying to ignore Pj’s passes. The rest of the girls, including Hazel, huddled in front of the small television, chatting through the David Fincher movies. You, however, stayed back in an attempt to avoid your girlfriend.

“How could she lie to me like that?” You asked Brittany, plopping down on the couch between her and PJ. Rolling her eyes, PJ got up and left the basement, retreating upstairs for whatever reason.

Brittany seemed grateful for your company (and relieved at PJ’s disappearance). “I don’t know, babe,” she said, slinging her arm around you and pulling you close. “I’m sure she had a good reason.”

You groaned pathetically, resting your head on her shoulder. “I can’t think of any.”

Brittany leaned down and kissed the top of your head, sympathetic to your feelings. You glanced over to the television area and saw Hazel staring back at you, watching your interaction with Brittany. She looked sad, not jealous, just sad. Those big blue eyes that would look at you with so much love were now pained, filled with remorse. She sort of resembled a kicked puppy, and every instinct in your body told you to run over and hold her, comfort her, before you remembered why you were angry in the first place.

Before you could force yourself to break your shared gaze, PJ suddenly came bumbling down the stairs again, holding an empty beer bottle. “Look what I found in the kitchen trash!” She exclaimed, commanding the room’s attention.

Josie shook her head in disbelief. “Why were you in my trash?”

“Doesn’t matter! Now we can play ‘seven minutes in heaven!’” PJ declared, moving to the middle of the room and gesturing for everyone to get the circle back together.

Brittany groaned, all too aware that this was just another one of PJ’s stunts to try and get with her. It was your turn to be sympathetic.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered to her. “If the bottle starts to land on you during PJ’s turn, I’ll intercept it.”

Brittany mouthed a ‘thank you’ before taking your hand and walking with you to join the circle. This time, you sat directly across from Hazel, as far away from her as possible. You could feel her sad puppy-dog eyes boring into you, but you refused to meet her gaze.

“Alright,” PJ asserted, rubbing her hands together. “If there’s no volunteers to go first…”

“I think our host should spin first.” Isabel interrupted, looking towards Josie with what could only be described as ‘fuck-me’ eyes.

Josie giggled as she took the bottle from a reluctant PJ and spun it in the center. Everyone watched with anticipation as the bottle slowed, almost stopping in front of Annie before Isabel grabbed it and pointed it towards herself.

“Wow, what a coincidence!” Isabel exclaimed, much to Josie’s amusement.

The two held hands and disappeared into the small coat closet under the basement stairs. PJ rolled her eyes. “It’s no fun if you pick your partners!” She yelled after them.

One thing about 'seven minutes in heaven’ that no one talks about is what the rest of the group does during the seven minutes. Do you talk? Keep playing? Listen in? You certainly didn’t know, and apparently neither did anyone else—with the exception of PJ, who set her phone timer before sitting with her ear pressed to the door.

“So… what’s everyone’s summer plans?” Stella-Rebecca asked in an attempt to fill the silence.

Annie shrugged in response. “Mostly working as a counselor for Vacation Bible School and protesting outside Planned Parenthood. Same old, same old.”

“Would you guys shut up over there?” PJ hissed from across the room. “I’m trying to listen to them fuck!”

Eventually, seven agonizing minutes finished with the screech of PJ’s timer. “Times up, lovebirds!” She shouted, throwing open the door.

The ‘lovebirds’ stumbled out of the closet in a fit of giggles. Both of their clothes were wrinkled, hair disheveled, and Isabel’s lipstick was smeared all over Josie’s mouth. The couple was immediately met with cheers and jeers from the rest of the party as they made their way back to the circle.

“Wow, thanks for warming up the closet for us you two,” PJ snickered. “Now, as for who’s next…”

“Hazel, why don’t you spin?” Isabel suggested, seizing the bottle before PJ could and passing it to Hazel.

“Oh, come on!” PJ complained, having been cockblocked yet again.

The group all shared a chuckle at PJ’s dismay, especially Brittany who was laughing so hard tears began to form. PJ could do nothing but pout until the laughter died down and Hazel reached into the center, spinning the bottle.

Round and round the bottle spun, the group watching with bated breath. The hollow glass rotated, nozzle slowing, slowing until it finally stopped on no other than… you. All previously dissipated tension immediately resurfaced as the room seemed to still, everyone recalling the incident from earlier.

“Yeah, you guys! Go in there and give us absolutely nothing!” PJ sneered, earning another smack on the arm from Josie.

You stared at the bottle, nozzle pointing directly at you, no question about it. Through your peripheral vision, you could see Hazel nervously fidgeting with her rings, unsure of how to proceed.

“Maybe we could… play something else?” Brittany suggested gently.

PJ clapped her hands together. “Nope! Rules are rules. Get in there, you two.” She seized your hands and dragged you to the closet, throwing both of you in before slamming the door.

Hazel kept her gaze fixated on her fidgeting hands while you pretended to be very interested in a small tear on one of the hanging coats. After what felt like an eternity, you checked your watch. Only twelve seconds had passed. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, one of us has to say something.”

She glanced towards the door. “How much do you wanna bet PJ is listening in on us?”

You shot her a glare, not finding her joke funny.

“I’m sorry…” Hazel muttered, lowering her head again.

At that moment, all of the hurt, anger, and confusion you had kept bottled up to save face rose to the surface. “Why would you lie to me?” You demanded, using her own line against her.

Her face crumpled upon hearing the true betrayal behind your question. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”

“Hazel, you lied about losing your virginity to Stella-Rebecca. That’s such an odd thing to lie about, it doesn’t make any sense…”

“Ok,” Hazel cut you off. “I didn’t have sex with Stella-Rebecca...”

“No shit,” you spat. “So what, you like, want to?”

“No!” Hazel insisted. “Stella and I are friends. I’ve never thought about her that way.”

“Then why have you had me believing you slept with her?” You hissed, a weak attempt to keep your voice down.

She was at it again, fiddling with those goddamned rings. “I don’t know, I just…” she swallowed, hesitating. “You told me about your first time… at summer camp… and you asked me about mine. We had just started dating. I didn’t want you to think I was inexperienced.”

“Hazel,” you sighed. “You are inexperienced.”

“I mean, like, I didn’t want you to see me as an immature little baby who didn’t know what she was doing, so I panicked and made something up. I shouldn’t have, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear.”

The edges of your anger blurred as you realized fear had driven your girlfriend to a desperate lie. Poor Hazel, she looked shrunken, almost. She had drawn into herself, vulnerability exposed like a house of cards in the wind. You reached out and gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at you and taking her by surprise.

“Hazel,” you cooed. “It’s ok that you’ve never had sex before, I don’t care.”

“Really?” She asked.

You nodded. “Of course I don’t care. I just thought you’d been pushing me away because you didn’t find me that attractive, but…”

“What?!” Hazel’s exclamation took you aback, making you drop your hand. “That’s not it at all! Shit, I was just worried I’d mess up somehow, I’ve never been more attracted to anyone in my entire life! I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. No, really! Every time I look at you, I’m like ‘holy fuck, how did I get so lucky…’”

You cut her off by crashing your lips against hers. Her body initially tensed at the sudden contact, but soon melted into yours as it had done so many times before. Your hands found the nape of her neck as you drew her closer, pressing her up against you as much as possible. Lip-locks with Hazel were familiar to you, but never had one been so passionate, so rough and yet reassuring at the same time.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping to catch your breath, realizing you had inadvertently chosen each other over oxygen. You gazed upon Hazel, studying her flushed cheeks, her lustrous lips, and the way her shirt collar sat askew atop her shoulders. With the way she stared back, you could tell you appeared just as rumpled.

“Well that’s good to know,” you giggled, reaching out to fix her collar. “Listen, Hazel, you’re a virgin. So what? I don’t care who you have or haven’t been with before. If you’re not ready yet, that’s perfectly fine, really. I would never pressure you into anything.”

Back at it again with those fucking rings. What the hell could you have possibly said this time?

“That’s the thing…” she began, her gaze fixated to the floor again. “I think I… I think…”

“Hazel…” you whispered her name, placing two fingers on her arm and making her shiver.

“I… I think I am ready. I’ve been ready. For a little while now.”

Your eyes widened at her confession. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I want you… uh, I mean… I want to do it… with you. I just… I don’t… I don’t know how to…” each sputter was paired with imperceptible hand gestures, desperate to communicate something she didn’t have the words to say.

“To… initiate it?” You asked.

“Yes! That!” She sighed, thankful you knew her well enough to understand her babbles. “I mean, should it be planned? Spontaneous? Do I just walk up to you and say ‘hey I wanna have sex?’ Where do I do it? How? Can I just blurt it out of nowhere or does something have to be happening first? If so, then what?”

“Hazel…” she was rambling again. You placed your hands on both sides of her head, smoothing her hair. “There’s no right way to initiate it, trust me. You can just do whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

She met your gaze again, head still caught between your palms. There was something different behind her eyes, though, something besides remorse or even vulnerability. Her brilliant blue’s seemed darker somehow, almost… hungry. You finally caught on when she snuck a glance at your lips, and closed the distance between you.

This kiss was different from the last: still passionate, but gentler, lighter, as if you were exploring for the first time. Her hands found your waist, loosely gripping the fabric of your top. You reciprocated, running your thumb over the hem of her tank top and accidentally brushing over a patch of bare skin. She flinched at the unfamiliarity, and you pulled away.

“Are you ok?” You whispered, forehead pressed against hers. She nodded, half-lidded eyes not leaving your lips. “Can I…?” Your fingers hesitated just under her tank top, barely grazing the skin of her stomach. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. For the first time in her life, she let her body do the talking as she pressed into you, capturing you in another kiss.

Slowly, surely, your fingers inched up the underside of her tank top. You took the time to trace little shapes into her skin, moving from her waist, to her stomach, to the underside of her rib cage. Her breath hitched with each new touch; Hazel had always been ticklish, but the way your fingertips danced along her torso made her shiver rather than squirm. As her comfortability levels grew, your hand traveled up, further, further…

“Holy shit, they were really gonna fuck!”

PJ’s grating voice startled you apart like an unwelcome infomercial in the dead of night. You glared at your intruder standing in the wide-open doorway, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. “Lose track of time?”

Hazel tugged at your wrists, and it wasn’t until that moment when you realized your hands were still under her tank top (much to PJ’s entertainment). With a mumbled apology, you detached yourself and helped her smooth out the fabric bunched around her ribs. Both of your faces were burning with a mixture of embarrassment and fluster.

“You could’ve knocked, you know…” Hazel muttered, watching the floor as she left the closet.

“I could’ve,” PJ admitted. “But where’s the fun in that?”

The rest of the party watched with amusement as you and Hazel exited the closet. Your flushed features and darting glances did not go unnoticed, prompting a series of snorts and stifled laughter. Forget David Fincher, you two were your own movie.

“So, I assume it’s safe to say you’ve made up?” Josie asked cheekily, squeezing Isabel’s hand, who bit the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing.

“We sure did,” you said with a sheepish grin.

Brittany couldn’t help but snicker. “Guess that explains your rosy cheeks.”

You exchanged looks with Hazel as an idea suddenly popped into your head. “Actually, Hazel’s cheeks are warm because she doesn’t feel too good.”

“I don’t?” Hazel asked.

“You don’t,” you repeated, shooting her a look. “In fact, oh my, I do feel warm! We must be coming down with something.”

“Wait, but I don’t feel…” Hazel seemed confused until she met your gaze and understood your plan. She raised her hand to her forehead, making a big show of collapsing into the basement wall. “Oh, woe is me! It is true! I seem to have fallen ill! Cough, cough, wheeze!”

You had to fight the corners of your mouth to keep from curling. Jesus, this girl couldn’t act for shit.

“Yes… anyway we need to leave. Right now. We don’t want to get any of you sick.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the reason,” Josie sent you a knowing smirk.

You grabbed Hazel’s hand and ran with her up the stairs and out of the basement, the partygoers calling after you with whoops, hollers, and exaggerated kissing sounds. As the basement door creaked shut behind you, the last thing you heard was PJ’s whiny complaint. “No fair! Hazel gets pussy before I do?”

The two of you rushed hand-in-hand from Josie’s front door and piled into Hazel’s car, you in the passenger seat as usual.

She turned to you, keeping her free hand on the wheel. “Are your parents home?”

“They never are.”

Hazel had to release your hand to put her car in reverse, pulling out of the driveway like a madwoman. You anticipated her fingers intertwining with yours again, but instead, she reached over and rested her hand on your upper thigh. Her thumb gently brushed across the denim of your jeans, sending flutters through your stomach. Hazel was getting bold.

The drive back to your house was nothing but perilous. Hazel had always been a reckless driver, but the sharp turns and disregarded stop signs were wild even for her. Arriving at your house, she parked haphazardly, jumping out before rushing to throw open your door.

“Well that was fast,” you teased as Hazel helped you out of the car. “Looking forward to something?”

Words seemed to fail her as she silently took your face in her hands, kissing you with the desperation of a castaway grasping for a lifeline. She had you pressed into the passenger door, hips flush against yours. Your palms rested on her collarbone, feeling her rapid heartbeat.

You gently pushed her away, almost swearing you heard the faintest whimper leave her lips. “Why don’t we take this inside?” You suggested, to which Hazel could only nod.

The two of you stumbled into your house, barely taking the time to break away from each other to see where you were going. When you eventually made it to your bedroom, you slammed the door behind you and Hazel thrust you against the white wood. You relaxed into her, expecting more kisses, but looked up to find her features filled with apprehension.

“Hazel…” you whispered, moving your hands to her shoulders. “Is everything ok?”

“Y-yeah…” she stuttered, her gaze dropping slightly. She had seized you by the hips, fingers hooked in your belt loops, hands beginning to tremble.

You gently lifted her jaw. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s ok if you changed your mind…”

“No! No, please. I need you so bad you have no idea…” she cut you off, her confession making you blush. “I just… I don’t… I mean… I’ve watched some porn and read fanfiction but…”

“Hazel, sex isn’t anything like porn or fanfiction.”

“Oh fuck, it isn’t?” She asked in disbelief, her wide eyes making you chuckle.

“Why don’t you let me lead, then?” You suggested, calming her with a tender kiss on her jawline. “Go lay down for me, yeah?”

Hazel did as she was told and moved to lie down on your pale-blue bedspread, a favorite of yours because you thought it matched her eyes. You stayed behind, stripping down to a bra and panties as Hazel watched with unblinking eyes.

“Relax, my love,” you purred, climbing onto the bed and hovering over her. You shifted, hips brushing against hers momentarily, causing Hazel’s eyelids to flutter and a sigh to leave her lips. A smirk crossed your face. “Sensitive, are we?”

Hazel could barely speak through her pathetic little whines. “P-please…”

You planted a sweet kiss on her lips before trailing down to her neck, exploring her soft skin, discovering unknown sensitive spots: her earlobe, the nape of her jaw, along her collarbone. Your fingers flitted underneath the hem of her tank top, creeping up, up, until you felt the cool nylon of her sports bra against your palm. Hazel shuddered at the newfound sensation, and you pulled back.

“Still good?”

“Good,” she breathed. “Yes, good.”

You hooked your finger under the neck of her tank top, coaxing her to sit up slightly. Pinching her shirt collar, you slid it off her shoulders before lifting the bottom of her tank, stopping with it bunched under her armpits. She finished the job for you, and you tossed the shirts aside, not caring where they landed.

Now she was left in a sports bra the color of fog, her nipples erect and poking through the fabric. You slipped two fingers under her band, looking to her for approval. She nodded, letting you peel it off until her tits sprang free.

“Holy shit, Haze,” you muttered, practically drooling at the sight of her naked breasts. Underneath the compressive sports bras, hidden beneath layers of baggy clothing, Hazel had perfect tits: round, firm, with little pink buds sitting like cherries on top of two scoops of vanilla ice cream. “How could you keep these from me?”

Hazel let out a laugh that sounded more like a breath, not entirely sure how to respond. Leaning down, you took one of the swollen buds in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while palming her other breast. Hazel threw her head back against the pillow, letting out cries of pleasure while her hands entangled themselves in your hair. You took your time, caressing, suckling, exploring every inch of her bare chest, memorizing each unique detail: a freckle on her décolletage, a vaguely mushroom-shaped birthmark hidden beneath her left breast.

She was, for lack of a better word, perfect. You had been so distracted, so deeply buried in her cleavage, that you hadn’t noticed time slipping away until you felt her pressing down on your head. Your name flew from her mouth in a desperate gasp. “I can’t… p-please… keep going…”

“So impatient,” you teased, mouth releasing her nipple with a pop. Hazel only whined in response, bucking against your stomach, hips urgently searching for some kind of release. You smirked, leaving her breasts and peppering kisses down her stomach, stopping when you reached the waistband of her gym shorts.

“Off?” You asked, though it was merely a formality at this point; you already knew the answer. She made a noise of approval, a mix between a groan and a squeak, and shifted her hips to allow you to slip them off her legs.

Now, there stood nothing between you two but the thin cotton of her slate-colored boxers. She was writhing, silently begging you to rip them off and have at her, but you couldn’t help but stop and admire the growing spot of wetness that had accumulated through the fabric. Her hips sputtered, shook, pairing with her pitiful whimpers to plead for attention. You, however, had other plans.

“What’s your rush, Haze? We’ve got all night, don’t we?” You were teasing her now, a wicked grin appearing as your fingertips danced along the elastic band of her boxers.

Her raised pelvis came crashing down onto the bedspread as she cried out in defeat. “Fuck… please… just take them off…”

You frowned, mocking her, using your thumb to gently encircle her clothed cunt. Her head sank further into the pillow, broken moans falling out of her mouth like beads from a shattered necklace.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel. Do you always get this wet?” You asked in disbelief. Her boxers felt like a saturated sponge.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, fighting to keep her speech intelligible. “I don’t think so, maybe. I… I need you… really bad…”

“Need me?” You replied cheekily, wrapping your fingers around the elastic and slipping her boxers off in one quick motion.

Your girlfriend's naked body was now fully on display before you. You had to take a moment, admiring details of the areas she had never let you see before: a small mole on her outer thigh, or the way her hip bones protruded to form little ridges across her pelvis. Her chest heaved, lips parted ever so slightly as she awaited your next move.

“Hazel?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you ready?”

She took in a breath, blowing it out big. “More than anything.”

You positioned your head between her legs, leaving feather-light kisses up and down her inner thighs. Her head tossed from side-to-side, body struggling to keep still with your mouth so close to where she needed you. Testing the waters, you ghosted a kiss over her clit, watching as she shuddered upon contact.

God she was sensitive.

Finally taking mercy on her, you licked a long, broad stripe up the length of her cunt, tongue lingering on her clit perhaps a bit longer than necessary. The cries that erupted from her throat were enough to send shocks through your own body. You moved to straddle her leg, grinding against it while you ate her out—a shift not going unnoticed by Hazel, only spurring her forward.

“Ohmygod… Ohmygod fuck…” your name tumbled from her lips amidst her breathless moans. She squirmed under your touch—every lick, each roll against her shin setting her body ablaze. A smirk tugged at your lips as your mouth created a vortex around her clit, causing her eyes to roll back like a slot machine landing on the jackpot.

You didn’t get to do this for very long before her plush thighs enveloped your head. “W-what…? It feels… I think, I think I’m…”

“Breathe, baby girl,” you cooed, never taking your mouth off of her. “Just relax, cum for me. Fuck you’re doing so well…”

Her hands flew back to your scalp, legs shaking, guttural cries erupting from her throat as her orgasm consumed her. Fuck she sounded pretty. Her thighs kept you right where she needed you, only loosening once her breathing evened and she slowly came back to reality.

You lifted your head once her legs collapsed onto your bedspread, her bones feeling like jello. “Was that alright, Haze?” You asked, crawling back up to lay next to her.

“Wow,” she sighed, pupils dilated into big black buttons. “Just wow.” She laid there a moment, silently recovering, wearing a dazed, blissful expression. But then her face shifted into something sour, almost uneasy. “I don’t, I mean… I don’t know how…”

“It’s fine,” you ensured.

“It’s not,” she argued. “I mean, you were… and on my leg…”

“Hey, Hazel,” you brushed her hair back, letting your fingers fall. “We don’t have to do anything else. Tonight was about you.”

“No, no. Please, I wanna fuck you so bad, I’ve been daydreaming about it for so long.”

You couldn’t have blushed harder if you tried.

“I just… I haven’t… like you did with that girl from summer camp. What if I try and it isn’t anything like that?”

“Hazel…” you reached for her face, kissing her reassuringly. “It won’t be anything like it was with her.”

Her face fell. “It won’t?”

“Of course not,” you replied. “What I did with her, it was just sex. Nothing like this, this is completely different.”

“Why?”

You had to gather up the courage to say your next words. “Hazel… I’m in love with you.”

She finally faced you with wide eyes. “You’ve never said that before.”

“I know,” you said. “I’m saying it now.”

That blissful expression from earlier returned to her pretty face. “I love you too.”

You giggled, and she pulled you into another kiss. Her weight shifted until you were on your back, her body covering yours, legs on either side of your hips. She tried to emulate you, peppering kisses down your neck and chest until she reached the satin cusp of your bra.

“How do… uh… I only wear sports bras…”

You sat up, guiding her hands around to your back and helping her unhook your clasp. She slid it off your shoulders and tossed it aside without care, her attention fixated purely on the newly-exposed flesh in front of her. “Holy fuck,” she exclaimed on a sigh.

Another smirk crept across your face. “What? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think these were the first you’d ever seen!”

She shot you an unamused look before diving in, suckling at one of your breasts and pawing at the other. Her eyes stayed unblinking, watching you as your head relaxed further into the pillow and soft sounds spilled from your lips.

“Am I doing ok?” She asked in a whisper.

“More than,” your voice came out soft and sweet, causing the tips of your lover’s ears to tint pink.

Hazel trailed downward, her soft lips leaving kisses all the way down to your stomach, her tousled hair tickling your skin. She paused at your cotton panties, her thumb passing over the fabric with uncertainty.

“Need help taking those off too?” You quipped.

“Definitely not,” she replied, seizing the waistband and sliding them off your legs.

Hazel gazed upon your naked body as if she were an artist, and you her masterpiece. Her hands hesitated before resting on your ribs, fingernails gently scratching down the length of your sides. She bent down, planting kisses on your hip bones, reveling in your quiet whimpers.

“Hazel…” you purred, and she got the message. Her hand slipped between your legs, fingertips tracing your entrance before sliding inside.

“Ouch,” you hissed, sitting up in pain.

Startled, Hazel pulled her hand back. “W-what? What happened? Shit, did I hurt you?”

“Kinda…” you paused, trying to pinpoint the discomfort. It almost felt like she had unraveled a paperclip and impaled your core—an unpleasant sensation you couldn’t explain until you saw…

“Hazel,” you exclaimed with a laugh. “You kept your rings on!”

“Yeah…” she muttered, cradling the hand that burned you. “I thought you liked my rings.”

“I love your rings,” you assured. “Just not inside me.”

“But the characters in the fanfictions I’ve read keep their rings on, and the feedback is always positive!”

There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from giggling at her protest. “Hazel, those fanfictions are written by people who probably haven’t experienced the real thing. Trust me, rings up there? Uncomfortable at best.”

Hazel nodded, mumbling a sheepish apology and removing her rings before slipping two fingers back in. “Better?”

“Much.”

With her confidence temporarily shaken, Hazel began to move against you, slowly, steadily, studying your facial expressions. Each gasp, every subtle twitch helped her gauge what you wanted, what you needed from her. She may have gone in blind, but she was a gifted learner, and you her favorite subject.

Soon after Hazel regained her certainty, you started to feel that familiar ache within your core. “Hazel… doing so good… my pretty girl… I’m so…”

She perked up, still keeping her hands where you seemed to want them. “Really? You mean it? Should I do anything different?”

You were about to shake your head, but stopped when you got an idea. “Do this with your fingers,” you demonstrated by curling your own.

She followed suit, reveling in your little mewls when she scratched against your g-spot.

But you weren’t finished yet. “Fuck… Hazel… almost… now just move your palm…”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence. Hazel curved her palm, stimulating your clit, and your orgasm crashed over you like a flash flood breaking through a dam. Your back arched, legs shaking, chest heaving as you rode out your climax. Hazel wouldn’t, couldn’t look away; a moment ago she had been naive, inexperienced, but now the prettiest girl she’d ever seen was creaming all over her fingers, and it was all her own doing.

Her movements halted at what she hoped was the right moment. She withdrew her fingers, curiosity overtaking her as she popped them into her mouth and moaned at the taste, instantly regretting not going down on you. Her mind swirled, flashbacks of what just happened mixing with the oblivion of what to do next.

“Hazel,” you said finally. “Come lay down.”

She crawled back up to you, laying her head on the pillow. “Did I do ok?”

You giggled. “You did perfect.”

A grin spread across her face, reaching from ear-to-ear. Her eyelids were already drooping. “I’m so tired.”

“Me too,” you rolled over, wrapping your arm around her waist and nuzzling into her hair. “Go to sleep, my love. You’ve had a big night.”

She snuggled up closer to you, muttering a barely-perceptible ‘I love you’ before drifting off to sleep.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @k1ssm3m0re @joanvisitsrome @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @09carriages @hazelvrr @ummlover @lovinglynny @lilyannez @at1nyzen @lovepity @camilleee222 @reiisstuff @sofi4v13 @pensoterios @everybodyhatesari @sapphicarribean @sam-cooperrr @gay4lanadelrey666 @nickeverdeen

[fangisms]

spring breaks loose

A/N: idk what it is but every evermore song makes me want to write ab this lifeless-eye, sexy-ass, grumpy fool. so first up is ivy! gif creds: @audrey-inspo

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader (implied Slytherin, but it doesn't matter)

Summary: Spring breaks loose, the time is near // What would they do if they found us out? 1.0k words

Warnings: fluff, secret... relationship?, major pining, kissing, lowk toxic friends (lovingly), friends to lovers

Everyone wants to know about your secret fling. But it's not a fling, they just wouldn't get it. It's not some silly affair; you're not even sure there's a word for it under the umbrella term of relationships. What you are sure of is that there is something tying you to Theo that you've never felt with anyone else.

And he feels it, too. It's one of the few things he lets himself feel. How could he resist it? You.

So you meet up some midnights, awkwardly brush knuckles in the courtyard, let yourselves speak candidly with each other while dodging watchful eyes. For a while, it's easy like coloring in the empty spaces between clear cut lines. As long as you've got a steady hand, it should be simple. Even fun. Until you have to start sharing crayons with your nosy group of friends.

"Anyone else want to know what's going on between those two?" Draco says. He nods to Theo's fingertips tracing your kneecap where it's bent over his thighs. And where your wrist hangs from his shoulder as his head rests back against the couch, nearly dozing off.

"Yeah, me!" Pansy chirps.

Mattheo scoffs, pointing at Theo, "look, he's smiling, the wanker!"

He lifts his head, bearing his knowing smirk with pride. He spares a glance at you, then. And you press your palm to your mouth to choke down a laugh.

"Come on," P whines, "tell us!"

"Yeah, if you can kiss in private, you can kiss in front of us, too."

You whip your head round, aghast at Mattheo's request: "We do not kiss in private. We don't kiss anywhere!"

Theo lifts your legs from his lap, "Seems like a good time to turn in—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Draco urges, "Not so fast"—Surprisingly, Theo settles back down in his seat—"If there's nothing going on, then prove it. Kiss."

Theo looks over at you, defeated. You both know they'll never give this up, it'll be months and months of teasing either way. At least this way will shut them up for a few hours. You shrug, and he rolls his eyes when your friends cheer and whoop.

"You lot are perverted," he sighs, smiling at you, "we need better friends."

You lean in and whisper, "Let's get this over with so we can find new ones."

Theo cocks a brow, leaning in, meeting you nearly halfway when he brings his cold hand to your cheek, thumbing over the warm skin. He's going easy on you, letting you take the lead. You press your mouth to his, clumsy but careful when he shifts closer. He recoils when you put your hand on his chest and slide your tongue against his lips. He'd call himself shy, but you know that look of embarrassment when he pulls away. It makes you smile.

Your idiots clap and form a chorus of 'aw's. Mattheo whistles, breaking Theo away from your piercing eye contact so he can quietly threaten him.

"You didn't have to use tongue!" Pansy shrieks. You scoff and stare at her, counting down from three on your fingers. She bursts out into laughter when you lunge after her on one, tearing off towards the girls dorms in a fit of giggles.

Theo watches you turn back for just a second to wave him goodnight. He holds up his hand, and you twirl around and head for the top of the stairs. Once you're out of sight, he lands a kick to Mattheo's side.

"You complete idiot," he grumbles.

...

You'd been staring at the dark ceiling, listening to girls filter in through the doorway until no one was left downstairs. You couldn't find tranquility enough to sleep or even shut your eyes for a while and pretend.

As the clock chimes once through the window, you shiver and creep toward the crackling fire.

His footsteps are rapid on their way down the stairs. You whip around just as he lands at the bottom of the steps, letting out a breath as he smiles at you. Both shuffling towards each other, he tries not to move too quickly in his subtle desperation.

Still, you nearly crash into each other.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hello.”

“I was just look—”

“Looking for you. Me too,” Theo huffs.

A few seconds linger between your slowly rising chests, your fingers ticking at your sweater’s sleeves, and his pushing through his hair. You open your mouth to speak just as he begins as well, and you both snap your mouths shut.

“No! You were first,” you say.

“Ladies first,” he shakes his head, “please.”

“Alright.” Something in you seizes and what seemed so easier to admit a moment ago has now been snatched from your chest, shriveled into oblivion. “I… really liked kissing you.”

His eyes light up. “Me too.”

You grin and shift a little, surprised at how bright his eyes seem even in the darkness. How his hair still coils sweetly down from his hairline in the middle of the night. And how he can still see right through you when it’s almost pitch black. Save for the dim firelight.

“And also,” he says, “I’d like to kiss you more. For longer. If that’s… if that works for you.”

“Yes! Yes, it does. I do. I do, too.” You’re out of breath at the admission, and he nods, seemingly relieved by your dulcet enthusiasm for him and all he does.

So he kisses you, dipping close and stealing from you what he has always wanted. Just a peck, or maybe it escapes him a little and he leans into it. But he pulls back to find you’re practically attached to him and neither of you want it to end.

“So… I guess this changes everything?” Theo whispers, cupping your elbow when you reach for his shoulder.

You shake your head, “it doesn’t have to.”

“I want it to.”

masterlist

[enwoso]

i have a request for awfc x teen reader

basically reader is quite a shy and anxious person who hates getting in trouble so they never speak up and always do as they’re told, even if it negatively impacts impacts them in some way e.g. helping clear up at the end of training even if it means they miss their bus home and have to walk. r also doesn’t talk much and therefore hasn’t made any friends on the team as they’re so shy. one of the older players (maybe kim or viv?) notice this and take reader under their wing to try and bring them out of their shell. basically just a very cute fluffy fic

YOUR NOT ALONE — arsenal wfc

i feel like this doesn’t really flow the way i wanted it to so soz if it’s choppy but enjoy!

masterlist

north london was were you lived, but it wasn’t home. home was in the north, nearly four hours away from london in manchester. that was home.

not london where you didn’t know anyone, where you were all alone at a new team.

and it wasn’t that you disliked north london, the people were actually quite nice and some days it was actually a lot warmer than living in the north. but nothing compared to being home in manchester. where your friends were, your family, your childhood club.

you in some way felt like you had been abandoned, you’d been let to go by man city your childhood club. a club you thought you’d be at until you retired but they didn’t even fight for you when arsenal put the deal in, they let you go as if you meant nothing to the club.

meaning when your first day at arsenal came around, you closed yourself off to everyone. you were already a pretty shy person to begin with but now trying to talk to you was like trying to draw blood out of a stone — impossible.

you kept yourself to yourself, and made sure you stayed out of trouble. helping the coaches tidy up after training even though it meant you missed the last bus that went past your apartment which would mean you would have to do the thirty minute walk back.

you would stay and watch were you could improve your game even though it meant you were pushing your self far too hard and then getting frustrated when you didn’t see the progress you wanted to see.

the team had began to notice your behaviour and had tried their best to involve you in everything possible but you were having none of it.

the most any of the girls had heard you talk was a light hum just acknowledge the person so it didn’t seem like you were being rude.

“we need y/n to be fully apart of the team as i think she feels like she is still and outsider” kim said thinking out loud as they watched you help the coaches pack up for the evening. picking up the coloured cones as you hummed on to whatever the coach was saying. you weren’t much of a talker.

“does she always do that?” leah asked as she looked towards kim and beth who nodded.

“she always offers, just like she always offers to fill everyone’s waters and other little things around the facility’s it’s like she does it just so she can avoid us” beth raised her eyebrows as the three took another glance over to you.

“i’ve tried just talking to her but she not really full of words” kim sighs as leah nods she had tried too along with a few others but nobody could seem to get more than a hum or a small smile out of you.

“she’s just a kid, it’s gotta be hard for her getting let go by her childhood club like she meant nothing and then to be in a place miles from her family, it’s natural that she’s not gonna be comfortable around us” viv butted in after hearing the trio talk about you, a few sympathetic nods being done from the three.

viv had been amongst those who had tried to talk to you, she hadn’t gotten many words from you but instead of asking the usual questions of how you finding london which made you want to scream every single time someone asked you as you had run out of ways to lie and say you were loving it.

instead viv asked about you wanting to know you on a personal level not just on the outside and what would be the obvious to ask.

“like leah cmon imagine how heartbroken you’d be if arsenal let you go after being here for so many years-“ viv pointed out as leah hummed feeling her heart pang a little. her blood was arsenal and she doesn’t think her heart would be able to handle if she was playing for another team.

“okay first of don’t put that in the open, but i can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling” a sad smile rushed over leah’s features as viv nodded.

“exactly”

“why don’t you take her under your wing vivvy, she’s said in countless interviews that she looks up to you. so i’m sure if there’s anyone who would be able to crack her shell it would be you-“ beth put the idea into the open, now viv wasn’t opposed to the idea but she also didn’t want to overwhelm you cause that could push you further from the team.

“i’ll try”

the next day had came and gone, viv had been watching you throughout the day trying to pick the best time to chat to you but a good time never seem to come around. viv telling herself tomorrow she would do it

viv had stayed late to chat with the physio about her knee, the rest of the team long gone as training had finished already. well so she thought.

“hey kleintje what you doing here so late? training finished an hour ago?” viv asked as you looked up from your phone, you were watching your few minutes from the last match you played. analysing each pass, each touch, each movement to see what you could work on next.

“missed my bus” you mumbled very quietly viv almost missed what you said. viv nodded to herself as she took a seat next to you on the bench peering over slightly at what you were concentrating so hard on.

“that’s a stupid thing to do” viv blurted out, immediately regretting it when your head snapped up with a puzzled look on your face, a frown flashing across your lips.

“well cause all you doing is focusing on the negatives” viv shrugged as you still held the same look on your face, “like don’t get me wrong it’s helpful but i bet you, you have twice as many negatives in your head than positive things you did in the match” viv continued as you slowly nodded, she wasn’t exactly wrong.

“but how will i know how to get better if i don’t focus on what needs to be improved?” you asked quietly, your phone falling into your lap. viv was a little shocked, not by the question but by the fact that you hadn’t just hummed at her.

“cause you end up focusing on trying to get the bad better that the what was good starts to get bad and you enter a cycle that you can’t get out of” viv explains as you do your signature hum, you weren’t just thinking about football now.

you were thinking about how your life had changed in the past months and how much you had focused on the bad and never gave it a second thought about what was good.

“so your saying i should focus on the positives?” you trailed off staring into the distance in front of you as viv nodded, not that you saw it.

“yeah, your not alone y/n. we’re a team. we’re here to help you” viv pointed out, “and that’s not just with your football skills either” she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers a smile tugged at your lips nodding alone to what viv was telling you.

“thanks viv” you smiled sincerely, you felt as though your eyes had really been opened and you hadn’t have your self a chance at your new chapter, you hadn’t gave london a chance yet.

“no problem kleintje, now come on let’s get you home. it’s getting late”

it had been a few weeks since the conversation between kim, leah, beth and viv and progress had definitely been made. viv had managed to take you under her wing, showing you the ropes introducing you slowly to others so that it didn’t overwhelm you.

you had started to come out your shell more, you didn’t sit by yourself anymore at lunch or on the bus.

instead you’d found yourself sitting steph and kyra for lunch as you discussed your dream holiday of one day going to australia as they gave you recommendations as well as promising that when you do finally go they will happily be your tour guides.

and on the bus during away day you’d found yourself sitting with lotte quite a few times, the way she spoke was similar to viv it was wise words and someone you could listen to for a while as well as lotte being able to sit and listen to you and give you good advice if you truly needed it.

it was game day today, as you walked into the ground with viv. having gotten a ride from viv and beth to save you from having to get the bus. beth had spotted steph and leah in front, running off towards them.

“so do you think london could start to be home?” viv asked, her heart beating a little harder as she asked the question. the topic of london being your home still being very raw.

“it’s becoming home, it’s not quite there yet-“ you paused as some worry came over viv as she began to stutter.

“-but i think it will be home” you finished with a smile as you looked up at viv a sigh of relief coming over her as she swung her arm around your shoulder pulling you in a little tighter for a side hug.

“kleintje you had me worried for a minute but i’m glad your starting to feel more comfortable here, just remember your not alone. we’re a team for a reason” viv nudged you as you nodded taking in every word viv told you as you walked into the stadium.

“got it”

“anyways are you excited about your first start? imagine you score-“ viv said with a hopeful look as you slightly shook your head. you were happy about the start but scoring wasn’t the main focus of today. you were just happy to be getting minutes instead of the scrappy ten final minutes you were used to at the moment.

“excited, nervous? the goal won’t happen though so don’t get you hopes up” you dismissed as viv rolled her eyes playfully opening a door for you to go through.

“gotta have the belief kleintje!”

and maybe somewhere you had some belief cause that’s exactly what happened. you scored your first goal for arsenal, when the ball hit the net you froze. you were expecting for it to go over but when it didn’t you didn’t know what to do.

reality was brought back to you when you were surrounded by your teammates who were lifting you up in a circle as the crowd cheered. a big smile on your face as you looked around spotting vividly on the bench and sending her a knowing look as you tapped the your chest where the arsenal badge was. viv giving you a knowing nod that she understood.

your teammates lifted you down back onto the ground as they all patted you on the back or the head as you soaked up the moment a little longer walking back to your starting position.

“we’re so proud of you, our superstar!”

“get in y/n”

looking around and seeing the fans chanting and having a good time it felt for the first time since you made the big move you felt like you weren’t alone, these people that you were lucky enough to call your teammates and friends were your new family.

and maybe just maybe arsenal and north london was your new home and you weren’t mad at the idea.

in fact you loved the idea.

yourusername

liked by bethmead and 629,015 others

yourusername forever grateful for my found family❤️🤍

comments

viviannemiedema we love you kleintje!!

leahwilliamson our superstar ⭐️

kyracooneycross yeahhh for our very own 🌟

[luveline]

I can’t remember if you’ve done one yet of Jack being jealous of the new baby not because of his dad’s attention but because of readers!

“Jack, Jack, Jack,” Aaron says, hands on Jack’s shoulders where his son sits at the kitchen table, “I forgot to tell you, I got you a present.” 

“What kind?” Jack asks, used to presents by now. There’s been books, crayons, and enough toy cars to fill his parking garage to the brim. 

“What kind do you think?” 

He likes when his dad speaks like that. Aaron’s a peppy dad, he says everything in an altered bubbly tone that makes Jack smile, but his best voice is the soft one. Lightly teasing. He hugs Jack with one arm from behind, pressing his nose to Jack’s hair momentarily. 

“A big one?” Jack asks. 

“Sort of…” Aaron smiles. “Do you want me to go get it?” 

Jack’s about to say yes with a laugh, his excitement like a warm flame just below an outheld hand, but he stops when he hears a familiar gurgly sound and your loving laughter. 

“I know, baby.” That’s your voice, tired and soft as his father’s. “You’re exhausted. Let me give you a little squeeze before you sleep, hm? You’ll cry yourself awake if I don’t, you get all those trapped burps.” You laugh to yourself.

Jack sighs and turns back to his drawing. “Okay, dad,” he says, clearly monotonous. 

Aaron frowns behind his head. “Okay, buddy. It’s in the den.” 

“Okie dokie.” 

“Jack,” he says, and not a lot else. 

Aaron can’t wrap his head around it. Jack was so, so excited for Noah. He bragged to everyone at school that his step-mom was having a baby, that he’d have a little brother, and that they were all moving into a big house with a nice yard to play soccer. Jack and Noah Hotchner, best friends since the minute Noah was born. Or, that’s what you and Aaron hoped for.

It started well. Jack is gentle, and he’s understanding; he realised the baby would need extra care, and he’s done nothing but kiss and cuddle his new brother whenever they’re together. You got him a sound machine and some custom fitted earplugs for the long nights of crying, you never put Noah before him if you could help it. Aaron even pencilled in an hour of Jack time each day, but it isn’t working anymore. Jack’s just sad. 

The present is a jigsaw puzzle. A thousand pieces of guaranteed time spent together, but Aaron doesn’t have high hopes. 

He takes the two short steps down into the den to meet your eyes, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t know,” he mouths. 

You pat the baby’s back. “Well, I might have a suggestion.”

He couldn’t want to hear it more. “Tell me.” 

You hold his baby (your baby but his more urgently, the feeling an ache in his chest and hands) still as small and curled as a rabbit against your chest. Noah’s legs twitch in his onesie, his dark hair short where it brushes your lips. “I think maybe Jack misses me. I miss him, and I’m the grown up. I feel like I barely see him even though we’re living in the same house.” 

Aaron pauses, resting the jigsaw puzzle on the sideboard.

There’s no point in underselling the importance of you in Jack's life. You’re integral to Jack’s happiness, and Aaron can’t believe he hadn’t thought of your suggestion before now; he’s amazed by his own ego. Of course Jack misses you. You spend half your life nursing, which is half a life away from you he didn’t feel before.

“That’s what it is,” Aaron says. 

“Yeah?” you ask. 

He takes Noah from your arms, settling him on the slope of his chest. “If it isn’t, we might be out of answers.” Aaron rubs Noah’s back with delight. It’s nice to see a solution to Jack’s upset in sight, and nice to hold the baby while he’s in a good mood. “Seriously, honey. I think you’re right.” 

“What are we gonna do if it isn’t me?” 

“Give this one back?” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“Sorry, I’m kidding!” He gives Noah a little soft kiss. “Just kidding, beautiful. You’re all mine.” 

You take the jigsaw and give him a smile that borders shy. If his arms weren’t full he’d take your wrist in his hand and hold it for a while, but there’s stuff to do. You emerge from the den to the kitchen and Aaron follows. 

“Jack.” 

Jack immediately spins in his seat. Aaron doesn’t need to be a profiler to know your theory is correct. The change in Jack is unmissable. 

“Y/N,” he says, hiding his hope poorly. 

You show him the jigsaw. “I know it’s supposed to be your time with dad, but maybe it can be time with me instead? What do you think?” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah!” You pop the jigsaw in front of him without crushing his drawings. “Can we? I miss you.” 

“I miss you!” he says. 

“Yeah?” You brush his hair back. “You do?” 

“I do, I want to do the puzzle with you! Can we do it?” 

Your smile is part relief, part love. You hook a chair with your ankle and pull it under you as you sit, fingernail already scratching at the plastic wrap on the puzzle to pull it open. “We’re gonna do it right now.” 

The puzzle is a lot of pieces, you’ve barely completed the frame when it’s time for everyone to head to bed, but, reluctant, you and Jack sit at the table where Jack’s climbed into your lap for a ‘better view’, and you’ve wrapped your arms around him, occasionally loosing an arm to direct him to a right piece. The baby put to bed, Aaron pretends to pay more attention to cleaning the kitchen than he’s truly doing, finding himself leaning against the counter with a sterilised bottle in hand as you stroke Jack’s hair. 

“You know I love you?” you ask quietly. 

“Duh. You tell me all the time.” 

“I don’t want you to forget.” 

“I don’t.” 

Jack snaps a puzzle piece in to place and preens at your murmured, “Good job. Maybe we can try to do some of this every night you’re home?” 

Jack doesn’t cry, but it ties Aaron’s heart into a knot anyways when he turns into your chest to hug you tightly. “Okay,” Jack says, voice muffled by your t-shirt. 

You pat his back. His hands scrunch up like he’s worried you’re gonna pull away. 

“Can I get in on this?” Aaron asks. 

“No,” you both say. 

“Please?” 

Jack rubs his cheek into your collar. He doesn’t want to share. “No, dad. It’s not your time.” 

He supposes he does get you every night. “Fine. I love you, though.” 

“Love you too.” 

[moonstruckme]

i cannot stop thinking about oblivious reader and remus where she’s talking about how she’s never been with anyone before bc no one likes her so remus is like i like you!! but she’s like haha ok yeah bc we are friends!! and he has to be like no i like you but she just thinks he’s taking piss but he’s actually being real with her i’m so 🤧

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: mention of alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

“Ugh, they’re disgusting.” You take a sip of your drink, looking at James and Lily over the rim of your cup. Lily’s eating an ice cream sandwich she’d found in Sirius’ freezer, offering James bites while he traces lines between her freckles with his pinkie. “I want to be them so badly.” 

Remus hums. It’s the tail end of one of Sirius’ parties (or his soirees, as he insists upon calling them), and the atmosphere is heavy with a pleasant lethargy. The music is still playing from his record player, some slowish, bass-heavy rock, but most everyone has cleared out, and Sirius himself has fallen asleep on the opposite side of the couch from Lily and James, his mouth hanging open. 

“I wonder what it’s like to be in love,” you sigh. Remus turns to you, catching the longing in your look just before you hide it away. 

“You’ve never been in love?” he asks you. 

You give him a funny look. “No.” You shrug. “I’ve never dated anyone before.” 

Remus hadn’t known that. He has to remind himself, again, that he doesn’t know all that much about you. You’re new to their little group, a coworker of Lily’s that she’d started bringing around recently. Remus doesn’t know you very well, but he’s found the learning process surprisingly enjoyable. He likes being around you. 

“How’s that?” It slips out before he can think it through, brash and unlike him. He backpedals immediately. “Sorry, that was rude, I only meant that I’m a bit surprised. You don’t have to answer.” 

“No, it’s okay.” You give him a smile, infinite in your benevolence. “People just don’t seem to think of me that way. No one’s ever liked me.” 

You sound so casual about it, but Remus can’t help but think that must not be a nice way to think of yourself. He’s sure you’ve been considered romantically by plenty of people, even if they never had the guts to tell you about it. You’re lovely. You deserve to know it. 

He musters his courage. “I like you.” 

You laugh, and he thinks Sirius is going to have to mop his self-esteem up off the floor tomorrow morning as part of his party cleanup. 

“Thanks,” you say, “but you don’t count.” 

 Why the hell not?

“I mean, I’m glad you don’t mind me,” you go on, taking another sip of your drink, “but it’s different when you’re friends. I meant that nobody’s ever liked me, like, romantically.” 

You go a bit shy at the last word, self-consciousness pulling your shoulders almost imperceptibly upwards. Remus forgives your oversight instantly. 

“Do you really think it’s so unlikely that anyone could like you romantically?” he asks, refusing to lower his gaze even when you shrink a bit at the question. “You’re a catch, love, trust me.” 

You shake your head and smile, frustratingly good-natured. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to date me.”

“Have to?” Remus’ voice rises incredulously. He glances towards James and Lily on the couch, lowering it. “I would love to.” 

“Ha ha,” you monotone, rolling your eyes and raising your cup to your lips. 

He can’t believe you think he’d joke about this. He can’t figure out what’s more cruel, the way you keep inadvertently shooting him down or the fact that you seem so heart-wrenchingly prepared to be made fun of. “I mean it.” Remus lets his voice drop into a more genuine register, and something in your look softens. “I would date you. I want to, if you do. You’re far from impossible to like.” 

Your lips actually part in surprise. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, I…” He looks over at the couch, but James and Lily are effectively as dead to the world as Sirius, and at the volume you’re both speaking he doubts they’d be able to hear you over the music anyway. “I think you’re really lovely. I’ve been meaning to do something about it, I just…I didn’t know how. But would you want to?”

“To go on a date?” you ask, looking a bit dazed. Remus smiles, but before he can confirm you laugh at yourself, the sound rich and sweet as dark chocolate. “Sorry, that might be a stupid question. I haven’t done this before.” 

“I can’t believe that.” He shakes his head, astounded. For a girl like you to never get asked out? Well, it makes things a bit easier for him, jealousy-wise, but objectively it’s criminal. Remus supposes he’ll have to make up for it himself. “But yeah, I’d like to go on a date.” 

You nod, smile sticking on your face. “Me too. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, finding that your smile seems to have stuck to him too. “Tomorrow, maybe? We could go for coffee.” He looks out the window behind you, where a faint line of gold on the horizon shows promise of sunrise. “I think we’ll both be needing it.” 

You laugh again. Remus decides that he likes it better than any song Sirius has played all night. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Remus.” 

He’s not sure what you’re thanking him for. He’s the one who gets to take you to coffee tomorrow. He ought to be thanking you.

[captain-joongz]

On the wind of morning; Dragonheart ch.1

Pairing: OT7 dragon!BTS x knightess!reader

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

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

Word count: 22.1k

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

Series masterlist | Next part | Lore | Dictionary

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And my father was one of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucky bastards, the lot of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The connection must have been really messing with my head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They were there for me. For family legacy.

That was enough for me to make my choice.

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

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

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

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

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

Looking around, there was another rack of weapons on the other side of the fenced area – where we wouldn’t be able to go at the moment due to the fences. It all started clicking in my mind just as Lord Kim of all people stepped up on a little platform and gestured to get the attention of the slowly quieting crowd.

“As was tradition for the second discipline,” he started pompously, chest puffed up and face painted with a sleazy smile, “the novices would duel each other. This year we chose to make a little change for the entertainment of those watching.” I could see a few of us looking confused or slightly uncomfortable, and my own heart tightened for a moment.

Lord Kim gestured somewhere behind him and six people walked up to the rack of weapons on the other side. Three men and three women, all looking coldly towards the baron, standing side by side and anxiously awaiting the order to grab their weapons. It wasn’t that hard to deduce they were all dragons.

Silence fell over us while the crowd clapped happily, the vile joy reflected in their gazes, while we exchanged worried glances. Hwa-young’s face was drawn into a tight serious expression, a stark difference to how she was just a few minutes ago, while the guy by her side shuffled from foot to foot wordlessly.

The only one that didn’t seem to be bothered by the revelation was the smug bastard who stood a little away from us, serenely holding a sabre in his hand and looking straight at a man with flaming red spiky hair, who steadily ignored his attention.

How curious.

I watched as Kim gave the order with a flick of his wrist and the selected six moved with a purpose straight to their chosen weapons. The redhead without hesitation reached for the sabre, eyes glued to the ground and trying to blend in as much as possible, not stand out at all.

I felt a simmer of rage bubble up inside my chest and turned to stare daggers at the newbie only to see that he was already looking at me with a stupid smirk on his face.

So he already knew. He must have been close to someone high up in the unit then – that would make things difficult.

Swearing to myself to find out who was his patron, I made my distaste known on my face all for him to see and then turned back to our chosen opponents, searching for the one with a longsword. Eyes jumping from one to other, I finally found the weapon in the hands of a tall dragoness, her curly ginger hair falling down her back all the way to her tailbone. She as well was already watching me, but her eyes were unreadable, her lips a thin straight line.

The baron’s chuckle had our tense eyes drawing back to him. He stood there, with an awful sharp grin on his face, arms thrown out in a grand gesture, gaze jumping around our faces.

“Well, let the second discipline begin,” Lord Kim announced, “Happy fighting!” He laughed loudly, gestures dramatic and over the top, and then leisurely made his way back to sit next to… Duke Lee. What was it… birds of a feather?

I scoffed at the two men sitting there and acting like old chaps, all chummy and cozy next to each other. Baron Kim was really getting better at dick sucking, look at him, making his way all the way to the duke. Talent had to be recognised.

“Young mistress Kang!” the exclamation of my name startled me into stumbling to turn around, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at me. The dragoness was standing in the middle of the fighting arena, sword hanging from her hands limply. There was a touch of annoyance displayed on her face, but it was obvious she was trying to tamper it down as to not get into trouble.

I flushed lightly but diligently moved into the arena without any more stalling. Of course I’d go first again, we were probably going to keep the order from the first discipline. My nerves were skyrocketing, and I held the sword in my clammy hands.

Fighting in a duel against a same-aged human wasn’t something that brought too much stress to me, it was actually the one discipline of the three I was very confident in and looked forward to. General Kang never went easy on anyone, including his small children even during the first years of our training and I knew I could probably take on half the people from the military and be fine.

Duelling against a centuries old dragon with so much more strength and sharper senses though, that was a completely different story. Defeating a dragon, even in a sword fight, was virtually impossible. It took a lot of training, mostly with specific dragons, and most people resorted to underhanded tactics to gain an upper hand.

So the desired effect of this duel was most likely to present well with tactics, endurance and skill, not to actually aim to win. It was hard entering a ring knowing you will lose the fight, hard to muster up the courage to the absolute most to win when you know it’s a done deal from before you even stepped in, but this, like many other things, was mostly about appearances.

With a sigh I took my position and gestured to my opponent that I was ready. She did the same immediately and in a second a whistle sounded through the air, letting us know the match had started.

Nobody made a move at first, both of us holding our stance and slowly circling the arena, gauging the other and calculating the best approach.

I admittedly wasn’t the type to jump in headfirst into offensive, it usually took me a while to attack. Sometimes it was to psych the other out, sometimes I just wanted to see what they would do first and adapt to their strategy accordingly. But she seemed to be doing the same thing, so for a few long moments silence enveloped the crowd as they watched us with bated breaths.

I held the sword in a front guard, tip pointing right at her neck, and I just had a split second to register the tightening of her hands on the grip before she was suddenly lunging forward with a straight strike, aiming for my abdomen.

The habit kicked in and I cockstepped to the side, sword immediately flying in a circle guard to parry her attack before I retreated again. There was determination in her face, and she didn’t seem to be terribly appalled by my stance, so I counted that as a win.

This went on for a long while, one of us suddenly lunging forward in an attack to surprise the other, then parry, counter-attack and then retreat, circling around the edges of the arena. I couldn’t hear anything from outside those fences, I had no idea if people were entertained or not, if they watched or not, if they even said anything at all. All my attention was poured into the form of my opponent, watching her every single move.

Longsword was about agility, being quick on your feet and keeping your contender appropriately far to be able to land a hit but not close enough for them to land it back, and I used my small stature and quickness to my advantage a lot when fighting, but even though I was able to stand my ground, I felt the disparity in our strengths.

She was taking it easy on me, I was aware of that. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to parry that easily against a blow with full dragon power behind it, and while she was able to keep her composure, I already felt my body faltering. There was sweat streaming down my face, I felt it soaking through the uniform and making my grip sloppy. My legs were starting to get tired, and I stumbled a few times while side-stepping away from her attacks.

Her movements stayed effortless and fluid, her sword steady and sharp. I started to slip up.

As our patience ran out, the number of attacks increased and finally we were giving the audience what it wanted – an offensive after an offensive, barely giving the other time to counter. She must have tested my strength, because suddenly her blows became much more heavy-handed – she aimed to end this match soon.

She almost overpowered me with a diagonal cut, and my ankle twisted as I turned. Pain burst through me, face turning into a grimace. Her face reflected sure victory, sword already aiming for abdominal horizontal cut.

Last minute I turned my sword into downward guard, turned around it and swung for her right side. There was a split second of surprise on her features, the edge just a hair away from her clothes when she managed to jump away, and I gambled.

Turning my legs into a stable stance I lunged forward, ignoring the throbbing in my ankle. The dull tip aimed straight at the side of her lower abdomen, sword flying through the air. The element of surprise did a lot for me, but she managed to evade.

I cursed, sweat slipping into my eyes and making it hard to see. I didn’t even have the moment to wipe it away. The dragoness disappeared from my field of vision, and I fought my own body to turn quickly, but it wasn’t enough.

When I turned, sword already in position to take upwards diagonal cut at her, there was a tip aimed at my neck. I felt it prick the skin when I stumbled with the momentum, eyes trained on her hands on the handle.

Everything froze for a few seconds, few long seconds during which I only heard my own heaving breath and the roaring hum of blood in my veins. The heat started catching up with me and I shivered under the sudden wave of hotness over my whole body.

Then a thunder of clapping broke through the trance, and I looked up to see her eyes. They weren’t as cold anymore, but I wouldn’t dare to guess what she was feeling. She gave me a curt nod and stepped away, swiftly lowering her sword. Almost involuntarily I let go of my own and my glove went with it, hands too wet to stick to them.

I was still trying to catch my breath, the heavy intakes jerking my whole body and all I wished to do was to tear this stupid uniform off and jump into a cold creek, but I was suddenly grabbed by Lord Kim who materialised on stage and dragged me closer to the expectant crowd.

On instinct I started bowing, dragoness in tow even though there wasn’t even an ounce of the usual winner’s joy in her being, and then we were both sent away.

I stumbled over to our side again, wondering if I could maybe be suffering from heatstroke, when two small but very strong hands pulled me into a hug. Hwa-young squealed right into my ear, but I was too sluggish to actually recoil from the sound.

Before I even fully clocked in the situation, she was already pulling away with a huge grin, hand now patting me on the shoulder.

“That was amazing!” she exclaimed, visibly vibrating in excitement, “It felt like nobody was breathing for the entire time you two fought, the tension was insane!” A single syllable laugh fell out of my tired mouth, a somewhat slanted smile pulling at my lips, before I gestured back inside.

“I need water,” was all that came out of me, very eloquently might I add, and then I steered my shaky knees in the right direction and walked off. With every step I retained a little bit of my previous strength, my body finally acclimatising and slowly pumping the brakes on the excitement and pain.

As I was stepping in, the strangely happy guy from before was just stepping into the ring with his shortsword firmly clutched in his hands and a face full of determination.

Thankfully, no one bothered me while I was inside replenishing my strength, and I re-emerged a few minutes later in a much better shape. The fact that there was one more discipline left already drained me in advance. If I could at least take one layer off, that would make it much better, but it would be improper.

I must have been inside for longer than I thought, because it seemed that two matches have happened in the meantime, with the third now already in motion. The only ones still waiting for theirs was Hwa-young and the peacock with a sabre, both standing next to each other but ostentatiously ignoring the other.

Sitting down in the shade, I watched on. During Hwa-young’s turn I appreciated her form a lot. She was a great fighter, and it was obvious she put her absolute best into the match. Her opponent seemed to be a measured laid-back fighter, and he balanced her energetic offensive very well. When she lost, it was after a good fight and she went down honourably. The dragon even accepted her offered handshake (gloves on, of course, to prevent any skin-to-skin contact and accidentally establish a potential bond) and then they both moved to their respective sides.

The last man stepped in, flaming red hair reflecting the sun and making him almost shine in the middle of the summer garden. Peacock walked up to him and immediately took his stance. Once the whistle was blowed, he flew into an attack within split second, and the match from then on was a wild mess of heavy offensive.

While the dragon seemed to be surprised, like the others he didn’t have much trouble standing his ground and matched the energy given well. As much as I disliked people who valued offensive over anything and expected to win fights just by endlessly swinging their swords around without rhyme or reason, the display of power between the two fighters was quite fascinating to watch.

Their forms were beautiful, and their sabres met with loud clinks, almost hard enough to see sparks flying about. It was a wild flurry of movement, of red and silver flashes and fast footwork that would be hard on even experienced knights.

And that was exactly what got him in the end. The peacock was extremely confident in the first few minutes of the match, but as it dragged on, the dragon refusing to concede and dealing back just as much power, the toll it was taking on the human to keep up started to be visible.

I watched his legs increasingly more stumble and react slower to the attacks and for a brief moment I wondered whether I looked the same when I started losing the fight.

But then he suddenly threw himself at the redhead, sword pushing his to the side and body slamming into him full force. There were a few gasps around in the audience as confusion set in. Aside the fact that this was a sword duel, he definitely couldn’t win against him in a fistfight. And once they got this close, the dragon could really knock him out with a single blow. It was pure insanity.

And I could see the redheaded man preparing to do just that, hand dropping his sabre and body twisting in preparation to take a full swing, when the bastard shot his hand out and grasped around the dragon’s neck.

I was on my feet faster than I could comprehend doing that, dread making my heart stop beating and my stomach to drop all the way down to the ground. His hand was bare, he must have shucked the glove off somewhere during the lunge.

The poor dragon froze under the touch, body going into panic. He tried to twist out of his grasp, and I saw the hand visibly squeeze the flesh tattooed with shackles.

“Kneel!” the human’s booming voice carried over the shocked crowd without a problem, loud enough to even scare off some birds off of the nearby trees.

The redhead locked into place, eyes glazing over and shame seeping out of the very pores of his skin. Then he slowly kneeled, mechanically like he was fighting against his body every step of the way. Once he was on the ground his head hung low, whether it be in humiliation or obedience, and it was a terrible heart-wrenching sight.

The boy let go and then victoriously turned to the audience, smug grin wide on his face, leaving the dragon sitting in the dirt. Then there was an abrupt wave of cheering and clapping, a thunderous sound that swept through the whole garden and Lord Kim was running towards the arena, screaming praises for the only one of us who managed to defeat their dragon.

Shock, disgust and dread kept me frozen in my place, heart squeezing painfully in my chest and lungs constricted. I felt like I was going to be sick, like all that was going to come out of me would be black poisonous sludge from the display we bore witness to.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the lone being shamefully kneeled there, unable to stand up until another command came. A wave of emotions swept through me – rage, compassion, pain – and tears almost sprung into my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away.

When my eyes swept through the crowd, there wasn’t enough horror in people for this to have taken place. Most were sitting around, pleased and happy and talking about the champion. The dragons looked uncomfortable, eyes avoidant and their postures tense. Hard and frozen.

I saw Hwa-young, her face serious and troubled, lips a thin line as she stared at the man who was happily conversing with a bunch of good-for-nothing lords.

It was hard to compute he did something like that. And even harder to compute that it was allowed, in a friendly duel, against a dragon that wasn’t even his bonded.

Even though people liked to pretend that dragons were here all on the accord of their own free will, pretend like they weren’t forced and enslaved, pretend like they wouldn’t get punished if they didn’t go along with their whims, the shackles still remained a stark reminder of their status.

And while the only person who could directly command them was the emperor, or the dragon’s bonded, anyone could really force the dragon into obedience by grabbing their neck. The shackle was a ‘mark of magic’ (among others) – it showcased the place where the dragon was touched with a curse.

And this curse forced them into obedience to humankind. They couldn’t fight against a human and wish him serious harm, they couldn’t go against the emperor or anyone in the position of power, and they couldn’t not obey direct commands coming to them. The magic in their blood enforced their behaviour and there was nothing they could do about it.

So if you wanted to command a dragon and have him be coerced into listening to you, all you had to do was grab their neck where their shackle was, thus activating the curse.

That redhead wouldn’t be able to stand up until he was similarly commanded to do so, because he couldn’t break the order to kneel. It was absolutely disgusting and barbaric.

The conversation really seemed to have moved on, no one paying attention to him. Peacock left with Lord Kim, along with some other novices. Hwa-young and puppy boy stood frozen by the fence for a moment before they guiltily avoided their eyes and moved towards the fray of festivities too. Not that I could blame them.

I didn’t know anything about his background, but Hwa-young certainly couldn’t make a scene about a dragon given the precarious situation she was in.

At least one thing my stupid fucking surname was good for. Sometimes I could get away with being untouchable (sans the consequences my father would give when I got home, but that was a private affair – what they don’t know… can’t hurt me).

Not being able to take it anymore, I steeled myself and made my way towards the arena displaying much more confidence than I actually felt. Presentation was key, I endlessly told myself, in a voice that suspiciously sounded like my father. Subtly checking my surroundings, it seemed that no one was really paying attention to me yet. Which was good, but it would change quickly.

When I got to him, his shoulders were slumped, head still down and refusing to look up. The dragon probably assumed I’d come to mock him, and it broke my heart a little. Once more looking around to make sure nobody cared what I was doing, I kneeled in front him too.

I heard his little gasp of surprise, but he didn’t move in the slightest.

People considered it to be humiliating to kneel in front of a slave, which is why he probably didn’t see often people drop down to his level instead of commanding him to look up. I cleared my throat somewhat awkwardly.

“Pardon the intrusion,” I mumbled softly, making sure he was the only one who heard me, “Don’t panic, I’m going to touch your neck in a moment, okay?” For a few silent moments I waited for him to nod, and he finally realised that as well when no touch came after my words.

After his confirmation I brough my hand to his shackle gently, trying to be as unintrusive as possible, but no matter how much I tried this would always be a violation of them. I felt the magic come alive under my fingertips, thrumming violently through my blood. It was an ugly kind of magic and it made me sick when it filled my being with its aura.

Swallowing the noise of protest at the sensation, I didn’t want to stress him more, I quickly said: “You can stand, and you’re free of commands.” I saw his shoulders relaxing, and he shivered lightly. I quickly tore my hand away from his skin and stood up again, knees protesting at the swift movement.

I offered him my hand, but he ignored it as he himself stood up. His knees must have been in even worse shape after sitting on the rough ground like that, but he carried himself gracefully, shame persistently seeping in at the edges. When our eyes met, he curtly nodded my way and then swiftly walked off, leaving the gathering behind him.

I couldn’t blame him.

A good half an hour went by before I heard Lord Kim’s voice exclaim: “Oh no! Where did our dragon disappear to?” By then I had already moved closer to the shooting range and watched servants bring out and prepare the six horses that would be involved in the next discipline.

There were some general gasps, people looking around with disappointment painting their faces, but no one spoke out against me. No one looked at me, or even cared that I still sat by the side, leading me to assume that my actions haven’t been noticed, thankfully.

As the commotion slowly quietened, I willed my heart to calm down, body sagging lightly against the stone bench.

While I was looking forward to the last discipline, horseback shooting at moving targets, the atmosphere hung heavy over us after the last match, and it was hard to have any enjoyment from anything taking place. Peacock of course was in great spirits and the two expressionless guys that haven’t said a single word as far as I was concerned didn’t seem to care at all, but we the remaining three all showed different signs of uneasiness, the good mood sapped out of us in the blink of an eye.

We stood in a hushed group, still processing everything, while the others were already claiming horses and preparing their bows.

“I was kind of expecting it and it still caught me off guard that he’d just… go there,” finally Hwa-young broke the silence, looking at me solemnly. I gave her a confused look, tilting my head slightly.

“What do you mean ‘expecting it’?” the question fell out my lips and it drew the attention of the boy.

“The blond one tried to reach for the neck, but got quickly overpowered,” he jumped in to explain, “I thought it was more like a tactic to scare her or psych her out, at the moment it didn’t look like he’d really go for it.” His gaze was pointing to one of those silent two, a tall blond with cold blue eyes.

“Oh!” he suddenly exclaimed, hand flying to me in an offered handshake, “I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Choi Siwoo, of the southeast clan.” I only hesitated for a split second before I took it, attempting a small smile even with my heart still heavy.

I was kind of already beginning to like Hwa, her story and attitude made me trust in her good side a little more, and this guy seemed to be just a ball of sunshine. She evidently got along with him and for the moment I’ve decided to tentatively trust her judgement.

God knows I’d need as many allies on my side as possible and I trusted that Hwa-young of all people wouldn’t have a problem with me based on my clan. Plus both of them most probably had the same opinion as me about the violating display peacock put on.

It was quite sad, but once you found people who actually believed dragons to be real beings with real rights, you’d better hand onto them and not let them go. I myself was painfully aware of how meagre the numbers of those were.

Siwoo’s face brightened with a toothy grin, hand briefly squeezing mine before he pulled back. There was a little bit of relief on his face and I wondered whether he was worried I’d reject his friendship offer. He and Hwa exchanged a short happy look, she nodded a little, and then turned to beam at me. A little snicker escaped my lips at their shenanigans, but I didn’t stick around to see their faces split with wide smiles.

Instead I finally started making my way towards one of the still available horses, choosing a white one with black and brown spots, absentmindedly picking up the bow and quiver with arrows. Once we were all on horseback and ready, Lord Kim once again climbed up to a little platform and with a few pompous words blew the whistle.

I was miles away in my mind, just going with the flow of the horse’s movement. I’ve always loved horses since little, and anytime I found myself on one I usually relaxed very quickly, which combined with my troubled heart and mind had me escaping away from this awful little banquet, my mind carrying me to the green pastures and meadows of our fief.

Thus I ended up missing my first shot, just breezing past the target without even pulling out my bow. A quick shout of my name later I was confusedly looking around only to see Hwa-young’s worried face. She gestured to her bow and I immediately realised I must have not even seen where I was supposed to be shooting.

The discipline went on, and after a few circle arounds I even managed to hit a bullseye, more or less on accident. The crowd gave me some polite applause, but I found myself as shocked as half the people sitting there on that garden.

By the time they finally called us back, I was already prepared to disappear home the next second I could. I was over all this, mentally and physically drained and I hated the audience watching our every move, my skin crawling with every curious or hateful glance.

Of course, we were meant to be socialising more, but I planned to slink off the moment people stopped paying attention to me. Having led the horse back to the stables, I was back in the crowd, slowly making my way inside to grab some more refreshments. I ignored the hum of murmurs around me, mocking my score or whispering about my father.

When someone threw a glare at me, I returned it with a polite smile, the tiredness pulling the attitude back onto the surface. Today had quite enough of diplomatic and courteous encounters, now I was done.

Making it over to the almost empty buffet table, a scowl was already pulling down at my lips, making me look even more unfriendly than usual. When somebody’s presence suddenly made itself known behind me, I was ready to snark at them until they left. They couldn’t even let me eat in peace.

For a few moments I continued to ignore the person, even though I knew they were messing around with something on the table, hoping they weren’t here for me after all, but all those hopes got shattered the moment they walked up straight to me and tapped my shoulder.

I started turning around, a smart retort already about to slip off of my tongue when I came face to face with a broad chest and shoulders, tattoos peeking from his tunic and pierced lips, and it promptly withered and died in my throat. He had tattoos there as well? How did I miss that?

Lightly flustered I quickly snapped my head up, searching for the dragon’s eyes. Jungkook was grinning at me from up above, gaze sparkling just like before. I stumbled a step or two back, putting some more space between us to make the height gap less blaringly obvious. He snickered at me, but stayed put, leisurely leaning with his hip on the table.

“Looked like you were booking it, so I wanted to catch you before you disappear,” the dragon explained with a knowing smile, “just to set some things straight.” A soft questioning noise left my mouth, a mixture of anxiety and confusion hitting me. Sudden fear that he’d come here to let me down gently gripped me and I desperately tried to temper it down, not even recognising myself and the strange behaviour I’d been exhibiting since I accepted his handshake.

Jungkook seemed blissfully oblivious though and kept cooly leaning on the table, completely relaxed in his stance and expression. My calculative gaze slid from his head to his toes, trying to gauge what he’d feel the need to tell me this urgently. Preparing myself for the worst, I invited him to speak with a gesture of my arm.

“I want to reserve your noon three days from now,” the dragon told me, body language still quite laid-back, lulling me into believing that maybe this wasn’t bad news after all, “A personal training, after that we’ll talk.”

Even though I tried to keep my expression in check, I couldn’t eliminate the chance that he heard my heart happily jump in my chest and skip a few beats. The expression on his face was earnest when I lost to myself and checked it just to be sure, but I also noticed a light dusting of a blush over his cheekbones while his fingers tried to detangle his bangs from the little horns coming out of his forehead. With a start I realised that his hair actually wasn’t black, but there was a deep purple metallic sheen to it that gave off little coloured flashes when it was hit by the light right.

He cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly, and started shuffling. Immediately I realised I haven’t actually answered to him and instead just stood there staring at him. I couldn’t help the rush of colour to my cheeks and briefly I wondered whether his blush meant he was feeling similar effects of the established connection.

I’d have to research bonds a little, I’d never known it could influence you like this. Wistfully I thought back to the memory of my teacher, the desperate desire to know where he was or that he’d be still here with me manifesting again. He’d tell me everything, answer all of my questions without hesitation.

But before I could get too off track in my thoughts and leave Jungkook even more hanging, I cleared my throat as well. “Does- Does that mean you are interested in pursuing the connection?” I squeaked out, throat a little dry and my flustered state making it hard to speak seriously.

The dragon grinned at me, boyish and free with a hint of mischief, and it did make me thaw a little in face of such a display. It made him look young and on top of the world, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from briefly jumping to his shackled neck with a painful pang to my heart.

“Of course!” he exclaimed loudly, “You seem pretty cool.” I raised my eyebrow at him, but ultimately chose to not answer to that. Taking another step back I let food be food and returned an impish grin of my own.

“Sure then, see you in three days.” Jungkook seemed very satisfied by that answer and without further ado turned around to leave.

I watched him go with my heart quivering in both hope and nerves as I found myself so close to the edge of something great. Of something meaningful. I couldn’t mess it up now.

Of course my father would be beyond overjoyed that I’d managed to catch the attention of Bangtan, as it would catapult me straight to the top. It would cement me as something special from the very beginning, and that was all he ever wanted of us. The emperor would surely allow me to ride him, because I was a Kang and that was all that mattered. I’d finally make myself useful and aide my father in his power-hungry ways.

But that wasn’t what I wanted.

No. I wanted to change the world. Change would always have to start at the top.

And I would bring this empire down, once and for all.

With a true genuine smile I also turned on my heel, in a completely different direction, and swiftly left the banquet behind me. It was time to learn how to impress a dragon.

Jungkook was slowly getting fed up with Jimin’s disconcerted looks thrown his way, the older dragon making it well known for the several past hours just how upset he was with the youngest.

“Okay, god, I get it, can you stop staring at me like that?” he grumbled out, flinching at his mate’s disbelieving expression. The smaller man had basically smoke rising from his head with how angry he seemed to be, and that was a feat considering he was a water dragon.

“Excuse me?!” he exclaimed wildly, “So dare you explain to me what the hell was that?!” Something strange and tense settled between them the moment Jungkook offered the Kang girl his hand, and he knew this was long time coming, the blue-haired man very obviously just looking for an opportunity to have a private chat with him.

Jungkook shrugged, and in hindsight, that wasn’t the best reaction judging by the frustrated noise he got from Jimin in answer, but he himself didn’t really know. Honestly, he was just as confused as everyone else, but something just… compelled him?

“I- I don’t know,” he quickly remedied, not wanting to provoke the other dragon even more, “it just felt like the thing to do.” That earned him a frown. Jimin stopped in his tracks, turning to look at his youngest mate with something slightly alarming making itself home in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly, gaze imploring and looking for answers, “Jungkook, this wasn’t just ‘something to do’, you could have made a huge fool out of yourself. Not to mention that you don’t just go around offering handshakes to riders! You skipped several steps of a whole process that’s there for a reason!”

Jungkook shrunk under the barrage of Jimin’s upset words, the inkling need to start defending himself and get upset back wiggling into his bones, but on a rational level he knew his mate was more worried than anything.

“Bonds are fickle things, you don’t simply jump headfirst into it with a complete stranger!” the water dragon continued, determined to let it all out now that they were gone from public and had space to hash it out, “It could have made you sick, it could have felt awful, it could have connected you to a terrible person. It’s not as simple as introducing yourself, bonds are strong and deep and they can influence you. You don’t go around doing that with everyone, you wait until you meet a person that feels right to offer it to!” That was Jungkook’s opening.

“But didn’t you feel it too, hyung?” he whispered, knowing he succeeded in worming some doubt into his hyung’s mind, “It was there even before we touched. That’s what I meant when I said it just felt… right to do. I can’t explain it, I just knew it was meant to happen somehow. And you know how gullible I am to instincts!” He threw in a good pout as well, grabbing onto Jimin’s sleeve and selling the cuteness to the max.

Jimin gave him a chastising look, but it was obvious his resolve was breaking and he was fighting his own smile at the cute display.

“I saw how you reacted, hyung,” Jungkook whispered again, hand sliding down to lock their fingers together, “I know you felt something.”

Both dragons were very well aware that something about this bond was strange, but neither knew how to explain to the other the sensations and feelings that ran through them in that moment they touched. Jimin pursed his lips, not finding the right words and feeling in way over his head.

“Let’s get home, I want to talk to hyungs about it,” he simply murmured and started dragging the other with him through the silent dark streets of the capital city. This part was always dead quiet in the middle of the night, the proximity of the royal palace scaring all nightly activities away into more shady parts. The shadow of the empire just always hung over this district, turning its atmosphere into something rotten and heavy.

It wasn’t far to their town house, the building that they reluctantly used whenever they needed to stay over in the capital as opposed to flying two hours back to their den, and both quickly found themselves enveloped in a much warmer aura of their combined scents. Even this deep into the night there was a hum of activity heard, signalling that the whole thunder was still awake and most likely waiting for their return.

Tae was sitting with Hoseok outside in the tiny yard, but they immediately moved inside the moment they heard the two sets of footsteps. The rest of the mates were all already sitting by the dining table, small refreshments waiting for them while Yoongi peacefully read something, and Namjoon was intensely staring at a couple of glowing rocks.

Seokjin’s head suddenly popped into the room from the adjacent study, warm smile already in place.

“How was Jungkook’s first choosing?” he asked eagerly, quickly padding over to the table and sitting down along with a very interested Tae and a smiling Hoseok. And as shaken as Jungkook and Jimin were from the whole afternoon, they noticed a small strain in their thunder’s expressions as well, deepening the concerned feelings already swirling through their own chests.

“We have to talk,” jumped Jimin straight in without a preamble, choosing the least comforting words anyone could ever say. The other dragons in the room didn’t seem to be very surprised though, only indication of the statement being heard was Jin’s soft sigh and the soft thud of Yoongi closing his book and putting it away.

Five sets of eyes trained on them, waiting for the explanation, and Jungkook helplessly looked towards his hyung to start.

“Jungkook found a potential rider,” Jimin started, eyes never leaving Jungkook’s face, his own troubled when he finally turned to the others.

“Isn’t that sort of a happy occasion?” Namjoon tested out, but as they all noticed before, the hyungs already seemed to be aware of something happening during the afternoon.

“Well, he just stuck his hand out to her within ten minutes of meeting her,” Jimin suddenly snitched petulantly, leaving Jungkook standing there with his mouth hanging wide open at the betrayal.

“Hyung!” he whined out at the same time as Jin’s horrified “Jungkook!” floated through the room.

“It felt right!” he shouted frustrated, feeling like he’s been endlessly repeating himself forever now and everyone just ignored that and focused on the more blaring fact of him completely disregarding age-old rules and making his potential bond into a public spectacle.

But despite his expectations, Jimin didn’t protest, or even got into a needless fight with him about it. Instead, he looked towards the older dragons, unsure and nervous. All of them were suddenly shifting in their seats, drawn closer by Jimin’s obvious distress and ready to jump in and comfort him at the drop of the hat.

“That’s the thing,” the water dragon whispered, “it did. I felt it too.” Silence set over the room. The rug’s been suddenly pulled from under his feet as he thought back to the moment, to the lighting of pure energy zapping through his entire being, feeling as if his fingers were about to burst into flames. To the moment he finally tore his eyes from Y/N and saw his hyung’s horror and shock, immediately pulling him close to whisper if he was okay as Jungkook just stared and tried to comprehend what happened.

It explained a lot.

“What?” was what came out of his mouth though, “You felt the bond through me?” The man in question silently nodded, opening his mouth and considering whether he should speak more. In the end he sighed and resigned himself to this conversation fully.

“Yeah, I felt it through our bond,” Jimin explained closely, “It was strong enough that even I felt the power of it. It’s never happened to me before. I’d never felt any of your bondings, let alone the first contact.” The troubled expression on the faces of the other dragons doubled and the two finally noticed it.

“Do you know what that means?” the question was aimed towards Yoongi and Namjoon who had arguably the most knowledge on most things, and if they didn’t know it currently, they definitely had a book detailing it, but everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably. Jungkook started having the sense of what must have happened.

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” he whispered, the disbelief creeping into his tired voice. There was a beat of silence, a slight hesitation and then Yoongi nodded.

“Yes, but it wasn’t anywhere near as strong as what you said,” the black-haired man explained, voice soothing to attempt and calm the rising emotions, “it was more like an echo of what you two were experiencing.”

For a moment they all just let that information sink in, exchanging nervous glances. Hoseok released a long deep breath, drawing the attention to himself.

“So Jungkookie felt a pull towards someone, immediately went ahead and established a connection and everyone felt an amount of an echo of it through the bond,” he summarised, gesturing towards the two solemn bookworms sitting at the head of the table, “and I’m assuming you’ve also never heard of anything like that happening.”

Both of them shook their head at the same time, and their synchronisation would have been adorable if it wasn’t for the heavy atmosphere in the room.

“What do we do then?” Tae broke the silence tentatively, looking around everyone with his deep soothing eyes.

“Well,” Seokjin sighed again, slapping one hand on the table and startling poor Yoongi that was up to that point lost in thought sitting next to him, “We keep an eye on the bond. Jungkook, you just go about it as normally as possible. Jimin, you tag along with him and observe. Yoongi, Namjoon, please tell me you know where to dig up information about this?” Namjoon hummed thoughtfully, golden eyes glazing over in the same way they always did when he started mentally going through the never-ending catalogue of books they’ve managed amass in their hoard over the centuries.

“I’m certain we have a whole section of the library about bonds, it is a very researched subject, but I don’t remember ever encountering a mention of this,” he said finally, determination setting into his shoulders along with excitement to tackle something that was potentially unknown to them. Even though he’d prefer if this completely new phenomenon happened to someone else and not to his own packmate so he could study it in peace and not worry about them all the time.

Yoongi suddenly stood up, back cracking from being slouched over the table for god knows how long, and he started slowly making his way for his usual travel backpack.

“We have to go back to the den to go through all that though, are you all going to be okay here?” he said, face turning a little softer when he threw a look at his thunder. He was always worrying about them, and they all threw him fond looks back, bringing a slight reddish tint to the top of his ears.

“Of course, the universe won’t fall apart if you’re not here all the time, Yoongi,” Jin sassed him back, but making sure to throw him a little wink in teasing. The black-haired dragon smirked. “You don’t know that,” he rumbled back and then he was swiftly walking out onto the street, leaving Namjoon to scramble out behind him, shouting some apologetic goodbyes as he ran after his hyung.

As the situation settled a little bit and the remaining five sat around the table and played with the prepared food, there was still tension hanging over them. Jungkook especially was lost in thought, wondering about what this meant for him and his fate, and the fate of his mates.

He’d never had a bonded before, he was so far out of his zone here, and it made him nervous that his all-powerful, all-knowing hyungs seemed to be just as surprised by the situation.

His thoughts inevitably carried him to the image of his potential bond, to the expressive eyes screaming out even through the carefully crafted mask of indifference, to the memory of her fighting in the ring. To her kneeling for a dragon and whispering to him softly to make him more comfortable.

He knew Jimin didn’t catch that, too busy being lost in thought and upset about Jungkook’s blunder, and it felt wrong bringing something like that up, but it helped him feel that this person was right to bond with. Jungkook has always been close to his instincts, and currently they were telling him this was where they were supposed to be.

His thunder would disagree, they would scold him and call him too naïve, but against the better judgement of his hyungs, he already felt the beginnings of trust establishing between him and who he hoped would be his rider by the end of the week.

He knew he would go along with this, he only had to persuade the others to believe in him and his instincts too.

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[yaut-jaknowit]

All this talk of breeding and babies has me curious!!!! Maybe a fic where Vic, Uie, and reader DO decide to have a hybrid baby? How would they be as dads?

Daddies

Pairings: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader X Vic'tao (Male Yautja)

Warnings: slight description of birth

Word Count: 2205

Summary: Where we get to see how good Vic'tao and Uihoy are as dads.

Author Note: This was such a cute idea. I will say, they has been a lot of asks about babies happening lately. Is everyone ovulating or something? Ain't complaining, just worried and preparing for another round soon.

Masterlist

Ao3

When they first smelled the change of hormones in you, they buzzed with energy. As a human yourself, you couldn’t tell that early. Their change of attitude towards you concerned you. Not only were they more excited, but they treated a lot more carefully. Like you were glass and one wrong look could break you.

It wasn’t entirely due to the fact you were pregnant. You are a ooman. A pregnany ooman with their child. This was a whole different ballpark they’ve never even thought to step foot into.

One day, you grew to your boiling point.

Rage weaved into your very bones. For the last three months, they’ve acted different. It was like a one-eighty that flipped everything. Here you were, in the middle of the common rooms watching as the two kept their distance. It hurt. But it made you angry.

Hot tears burned your eyes. “What in the hell is wrong?!” you shouted at the top of your lungs. Your voice echoed back at you, bouncing off of the walls. “You won’t touch me. You won’t even look me in the eye anymore! Have I done something wrong?” Not only were anger but fearful you may have done something to mess up everything. You were the one to join their group. The last one to be initiated into the party.

Both of them stopped their retreats and glanced at each other. Confusion flashed upon their unique features. Like they had any reason to be puzzled. It was them causing all of this. Uihoy first broke the eye contact and what seemed to be timidly looked at you. You never thought Uihoy could do anything timid, scared-like in your life.

Your gaze narrowed down on the purple Yautja peering at you with a flickering gaze. “Look at me damnit! Tell me what the hell is wrong?” You couldn’t stop screaming, needing to get this rage out of your system. “Three months, three months without proper touches.” Tears streamed down your cheeks. “Are… are you disgusted by me now?”

Those words cracked not only your heart but theirs as well. Vic’tao made a pained whine and rushed towards you. His knees met the ground before your feet. He went to touch you but stopped shy, pupils narrowing. He didn’t want to touch you.

Pain not only shined in your eyes but expanded across your features. His yellow eyes met yours briefly before he softly rested a hand on your shoulder. The other cupped your chin. The touch was welcomed despite the issues arising currently. You whimpered and turned to nuzzle his hand, relief flooding your system. It has felt like a century since they’ve land their touches on you.

“Tell me, what is wrong? Why have you both drifted away from me?” you softly cried, shoulders jumping with each sob.

Vic’tao’s brows furrowed as if he confused himself of his own actions. That just made you want to bite him. Hard.

Uihoy came to join the two of you and knelt besides Vic’tao, gaze towards the ground. Even he wouldn’t met your eyes. You cried harder and wretched your head from Vic’tao’s touch. It hurt to do so but you didn’t want comfort if they were just going to keep hurting you.

The yellow Yautja chirped to his partner and nudged his shoulder with his own. Now, they weren’t going to speak in English so you could understand the situation.

When you were about to take a step back, the two of them faced you. “Do… do you not know?” Vic’tao questioned and tilted his massive head at you. You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Clearly, I don’t fucking know when I don’t understand why you’ve put distance between us. I don’t even remember doing anything wrong. But do enlighten me.” You couldn’t help but be snarky in the moment. They deserved it.

They glanced at one another again for a fleeting moment. Usually, both of their eyes on you would make you nervous. But, you didn’t care this time.

Uihoy jerked his head up. A light bulb appeared over his head. “C’jit. Ooman.” It was like the two of them had a sudden life realization without bringing you up to speed. You kept glaring at the two of them. Then, the purple male scooted closer to you on his knees and softly embraced you.

Despite the anger in your veins powering you, you instantly wrapped your arms around him and squeezed tightly. “We-we so sorry, little hunter. Little hunter is ooman. Doesn’t smell. Doesn’t know. Doesn’t understand,” he cooed to you and ran a hand up and down your back in soothing strokes. You couldn’t help but feel offended by his words.

You pushed back to look him in the eye. “What does that mean?! Just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m less!” His eyes jumped wide. His head shook wildly to disclaim what you’ve said.

Hands cupped your cheeks and turned your head to face Vic’tao. “No, treasure! That’s not what he’s saying!” Your features twisted with a mixture of confusion and hurt still. Again, you didn’t understand anything that was happening. “You’re pregnant.”

His mouth continued to move but you didn’t hear a word. If it wasn’t for either of their holds on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.

Pregnant? But… they’ve told you that was next to impossible. That made sense. Two different species. Both hundreds of thoughts of lightyears away from each other. They surely couldn’t reproduce with each other. It was scientifically impossible to reproduce! But… they just told you, you are pregnant. With their child. Shit, with which one. Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. You were pregnant by them.

Your blurry vision focused onto Vic’tao who was directly in your face. Both of your hands grasped his cheeks and pulled his nose to nose with you. “You’re not lying? I’m pregnant?” You needed to hear it again, to make sure Uihoy or him weren’t lying straight to your face. You had to know.

He grunted with a nod.

Oh my god. You were pregnant. After thinking all this time you would never be with a child – not it bothered you, it was finally happening! You squealed and jumped in place, arms thrusted up into the air. New tears prickled the corner of your eyes. Happy tears.

Then, you tackled Uihoy, nearly taking him down to the floor. Your arms crushed the confused Yautja before he returned the embrace in a soft gesture. You buried your face into his neck and deeply breathed in his scent. How you missed being this close with the two of them.

Next, you wrenched yourself away from him to embrace Vic’tao in the same manner. He didn’t expect the hit and fell onto his back, cradling you in a protective manner. You could care less and breathed in his missed scent as well. You could almost cry from how much you longed for their touch.

After a small miscommunication between the three of you, all was well. They explained to you that female Yautjas are different when pregnant. They didn’t know if it was the same for a human. So, they decided to proceed with caution. Worst of all, both of them thought you knew you were pregnant. A female can sense the change inside of themselves within the first three weeks. Clearly, you didn’t know until they told you.

From that day forward, they were the best to-be-daddies. They waited on foot and hand for you. Whatever you wanted, you didn’t even need to move from the bed or chair. They’ll get it for you. They wanted to show they could not only care for you during a time like this but for the baby as well. Which, you a sit down about.

Besides the cultural differences you already knew existed, you had them explain what happens with a female being pregnant. Females usually were by themselves during the pregnancy unless they had a permanent mate. Since the two of them had never encountered this situation before, they didn’t know how to handle it.

Females would go through the entire pregnancy by themselves. Those more experience would just give birth the same way. First time mothers or those with little under their belt would call upon others for help.

This knowledge made you terrified but amazed at the same time. The fact they could do this all by themselves was phenomenal. Yet, you knew you could never do that. You didn’t want to be alone.

Besides that one miscommunication, life with the boys had been great. Well, for the most part. Of course, with you being pregnant as a human, they didn’t let you go hunting with them anymore. That was the highlight of your days when they would take you out. It was sketchy enough to let you join them but pregnant. They explained to you your scent would draw every predator in. A pregnant creature meant slower prey to those predators.

So, for the rest of the six months or so, you stayed inside the ship. They would take you out during supervised excursions around the ship. But they would never let you leave their sight.

For the pregnancy itself, it wasn’t bad. Your belly grew far quicker than you thought was normal. Both of them wished to take you to a medic to get checked out. Unfortunately, from each other own clans, they heavily disagreed with hybrids. Bringing you into their territory would unfortunately be the death of your child.

It was just the three of you facing the world with a child on the way.

When it came to the birth, the tub was your best friend all the way through. Both of your mates stayed at your sides the entire time. Whatever you needed, they retrieved it within seconds. They allowed for you body to go through its natural course.

Uihoy was the first to scoop up the yellow floating blob in the water. A powerful cry escaped from her tiny lungs. The sound sent relief through all of your veins. Uihoy quickly passes the heavy baby to you and helps you cradle her close. If you didn’t know any better, you would say this was one of the biggest babies you’ve ever seen before.

By the color of her scales, all of you could tell this was Vic’tao’s child. His first one. He likes to say he was a good sport but the first week, he would rub it into Uihoy’s face. The older Yautja would huff and chuckle while shaking his head. He didn’t mind at all. Since it was possible, there was always a chance for the next to be his anyhow.

As for them being dads, you couldn’t ask for anything or anyone else. They stepped up one-hundred and twenty percent to the plate. When you needed a break, one of them would whisk her away. The other, with your consent, would stay at your side and let you sleep for however long you needed.

It was all by trial and error. None of you knew what you were doing. Uihoy has had children before, but the female would go off to do their own thing. Plus, Quir-oe was a hybrid. A mix of both human and Yautja. Figuring out her needs was difficult. Yautjas eat raw meet but humans don’t. Yautjas stomachs are hardier than humans. The last thing you wanted to do was get her sick.

Over time, Quir-oe would grow. Despite your concerns for her to follow the path of a Yautja warrior, you could see that was what she wanted. It was what she needed. She had this drive to hunt.

Both of your mates would switch who would take her out for a hunting trip. Since she could hold up her own head and walk, they would each take her with them. Every time, you were terrified something would happen. You had to accept that fact with your mates that one day they may not come back from a hunt. But this was different, this was your daughter. No, you didn’t love her more than them or vice versa. But it was a different kind of love and need to protect her.

Yet, you couldn’t take her from the hunt.

Like the dads they are, they would take Quir-oe out to teach her.

Despite this being the first time any of you worked as family, it was perfect. You smiled down at the three of them in cuddled together in bed. A filled waterskin in your hand.

Uihoy cracked open an eye and reached out a hand to you. Your family may not be perfect, but it was the best thing you’ve ever hand. You took his hand and let him pull you down. He held your back to his chest and curl around you. All but Quir-oe’s legs were mixed together at the end of the bed. You hummed softly and let your eyes drift shut.

The Yautja behind you buried his face into your neck then stilled. His claws clenched the material of your shirt. You tensed, about to open your mouth to question what was wrong. Uihoy beat you to it.

“You’re pregnant.”

[nerdy-novelist017]

Benny x bunny, where she faints and she gets taken to the hospital but he wasn't around when she fainted, so once he gets to the hospital and asks what happened she completely downplays it. Also if you could write him getting the call it would be 10/10.

You guys are so self-indulgent and I love it! This was really fun to write so I hope you enjoy! Benny's really just a stressed little muffin in this

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2k

Summary- See request above.

Bruised Ego (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

The cue ball struck against the green stripes, a significant clack echoing in the clubhouse as he sunk the last ball into the pocket. With a smirk around his cigarette, Benny straightened to his full height, hands sliding down the cue stick smugly. 

“That’s two games in a row, kid,” Wahoo groaned as he rounded the pool table to throw another five dollar bill into Benny’s winnings. “You must be lucky.”

“We can see if my luck will make it to an even 3,” Benny chided. He knew it wasn’t luck, Wahoo just sucked at playing pool. The slow afternoon was passed by the few integral members of the Vandals hanging out in the clubhouse, drinking, smoking and razzing each other. There was going to be a race tonight at the club bonfire; some newcomer kid on a piece of shit hand-built bike thought he was going to take on Cal’s racing Harley. Everyone knew he was going to blow him away, but it was still free entertainment and a chance for the club to meet again.

“Yeah fine, but I want the stripes this time.” Wahoo grumbled.

“You know what the definition of insanity is, Wahoo?” Johnny asked over his shoulder. He sat at the bar, counting a few stacks of cash as he and Brucie worked on the finances of this month's dues. 

“Well, your boy keeps doin’ all these trick shots,” Wahoo retorted as he began to rack for the new game. 

“Of course he is,” Johnny looked over his shoulder, smirking. “I taught ‘em how.”

Johnny turned back to his task at hand before he could see the bird Wahoo flipped him. The phone rang from the back of the bar and Cal went to answer it. 

“I’m feeling pretty lucky for this game too,”  Benny laughed as he bent forward to position the first shot. Clack, another shot that sent multiple solid colors spiraling around the table. 

“Benny,” Cal called, holding the phone up. “It’s for you.”

“Okay,” Benny nodded, chalking the end of his cue stick. It was probably you calling to tell him you missed him. You often called him at least once if he was gone for a few hours, your way of checking on him as you worried about him. He’s tried telling you multiple times that you don’t have to worry about him, he’d be more careful because he had you to come home to every night. You promised you'd stop calling so much but he told you he didn't mind hearing your voice so sometimes, you’d call and ask him to pick up something from the store, too. “Tell her I'll be over in a minute.”

“No,” Cal said slowly, voice tight. “It’s Kathy. She said somethin’s happened to Bunny.”

Benny’s heart stopped. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital–”

Johnny turned to Cal and said something – asked a question maybe – but that was all Benny needed to hear before he tossed the cue stick onto the table and turned for the door. He shoved it open and fished his bike keys out of his pocket as he tossed the rest of his cigarette onto the sidewalk. He set off for his bike, throwing his leg over the seat and flipping the ignition switch.

 He brought his foot down onto the kickstart but it only sputtered. He tried it once more. Twice. And Benny felt tears of frustration burning in his eyes as he pictured you laying lifeless in one of those awful hospital beds, every worst case scenario running through his mind.  He kicked it again. “Fucking, c’mon!”

“Benny,” Johnny’s calm but assertive voice cut through the ringing in Benny’s ears. “I’ll drive. Get in.”

He nodded, wanting to say thanks, but he found his mouth too dry to speak, jaw clenched too tightly. He followed Johnny to his car, quickly sliding into the passenger seat. Johnny twisted the key in the ignition, threw it into reverse and peeled out as he drove in the direction of the hospital.

“Kathy said she’s okay,” Johnny assured, his voice composed as Benny’s knee bounced up and down with anxiety. “Said she was up and talkin’ to the doctors.”

“I can’t – I can’t lose–” Benny started but his voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of something happening to you. 

“She’s okay, Benny,” Johnny repeated, firmer this time. “She’s okay.”

******

Benny practically ran through the hospital waiting room to get to the front desk, skidding to a stop and asking the nearest nurse where you were. Johnny had dropped him off at the door, saying he would find a place to park and be in as soon as he could. 

“Benny!” Kathy called out for him down the hall. He abandoned the nurse’s station and approached her. 

“What happened? Where is she?” he asked, swallowing hard in an attempt to control his nerves. 

“I’ll take you to her,” Kathy touched his arm gently and led him down the hallway of ER rooms. “We were outside workin’ in my garden, ya know? A–and she just fell over, like completely onto her face, didn’t even try to catch herself. She hit her head pretty good when she landed so they’re runnin’ some test.”

Benny nodded, trying to process her words in his jumbled brain. She stopped in front of a room and motioned for him to enter. He took a deep breath, hoping his shaking hands weren’t noticeable and pushed the door open. 

And the sight of you nearly crushed his heart. You looked so small sitting on the hospital bed, legs dangling off the side, hand pressing a blue ice pack to the side of your face. When you looked up and noticed him, you sat up straighter and squeaked out, “Benny!”

He was at your side in an instant, hands carefully roaming in an attempt to find anything physically wrong with you besides the obvious head wound. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” you said, taking his hand in your unoccupied one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s nothing, Benny.”

“It wasn’t nothin’,” Kathy spoke up from the doorway, nervously glancing between you two. “You were out for a good couple minutes. Scared the livin’ shit outta me. ” 

You shook your head, shooting her an exasperated look around Benny’s shoulder. “I told you not to call him.”

“Bullshit,” Benny interjected. “You get taken to the hospital and you think I shouldn’t know ‘bout it?”

“I’m fine, really,” you said with a sigh and you looked so . . . tired. Benny wanted to scoop you up in his arms and take you home in that instant. “The doctor said I just got overheated. You know how hot it’s been.”

Benny’s hand gently encased yours holding the ice pack, pulling it away so he could inspect the damage. He grimaced at the sight of the nasty purple and red bruise forming around your right brow bone and down to your eye socket. Despite his best efforts, his hands still shook as he pulled away. He’d seen his fair share of bruising – most of the time it was from his own reflection in the mirror after a fight. But the sight of the injury coloring your beautiful skin. . . it made his stomach flip. You were so frail, so breakable and the realization squeezed at Benny’s heart. He was supposed to protect you and if he could, he’d shrink you down and put you in his pocket, safe and secure. He looked over his shoulder to Kathy, “Would you. . . would you let Johnny know what’s goin’ on?”

“Sure thing,” she answered and disappeared out the door.

Silence fell heavy between you and Benny desperately searched for something to say to make you smile again, to make you blush . . . but his heart still pounded too hard and his stomach still churned from the uncertainty to come up with anything. So he did the only thing he could in that moment; He pulled you into a tight hug, hand cradling the back of your neck as he fought back that awful sting of tears again. 

“I’m okay, Benny.” Your voice was muffled against his chest. “I promise.” 

“You can’t–” his voice broke and he had to swallow thickly before continuing. “You can’t scare me like that, Bunny.” 

“I didn’t mean to–” 

“I just– I just love you so much,” he breathed out as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“I know you do,” you whispered gently and he couldn’t understand how you were always so strong, so resilient. “I love you too, Benny.”

You gave him a moment to compose himself, to slow his erratic heartbeat and melt into your sweet touch before you pulled back, lowering the ice pack and said, “There is something that will make me feel better.”

“What’s that?” he asked, heart softening at your brazen smile.

“A kiss.”

“Is that so?” His gaze fluttered over your angelic face, still beautiful despite the bruise. 

“Mhhm, it’s what the doctor ordered, actually.” Your grin grew wider as he put both hands on the sides of your face, thumbs sliding gently along your jaw. He kissed you softly, lips barely ghosting over yours in fear of hurting you as if you would crumble beneath his touch. That wasn’t good enough for you apparently as you leaned forward to chase him before he could pull away completely. Your hands came up to hold his in place over your face and you returned his kiss with such vehemence that Benny’s brows pinched together in enthrallment. 

The distinct clearing of a throat broke you both apart and Benny caught sight of the doctor standing in the doorway, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. You blushed and looked away as the doctor entered, apologizing for the intrusion. 

“We got the test results back,” he said and Benny straightened, feeling his heart rate pick up again. “Bad news is we figure you passed out due to heatstroke. With this severe heat wave hitting Chicago, we’ve had multiple patients come in from it so don’t feel bad. Good news is you were able to get here quick enough that we could get your core temperature brought down before any damage was done. As far as your head, you don’t appear to have a concussion, but you will have a pretty nasty bruise for a while.”

“So . . . she’s okay?” Benny asked, hand finding the top of your thigh to ground him. 

The doctor nodded. “Yeah she’ll be just fine as long as she takes it easy for the rest of the day. No more gardening in this weather, okay?” 

You giggled abashedly at his joke and Benny breathed a sigh of relief. 

The doctor continued, “I’ll have the nurse bring around another ice pack for you to take home before we start your paperwork to leave.”

Benny held your hand as he stood beside your bed faithfully while they worked on getting you discharged of the hospital. You were okay, he repeated in his head like a chant. You were okay and that made him okay.

“You know since I'm gettin' out of here early we’ll still be able to go to the race tonight,” you pointed out with a small smile as you nudged him with your foot to get his attention.

“No, I’m taking you home where you’re going to lay your pretty little butt down in bed for the rest of the day,” he said firmly with a shake of his head.

“I don’t want you to miss Cal’s race!” you said as you tugged on his hand gently, lip pouting. 

“I don’t care about the race,” he replied flippantly.

“Well, I do! Plus I want to see the girls, too. C’mon, please Benny?”

He shook his head, trying to remain firm in his decision even as you gave him your irresistible puppy eyes. 

“Please Bennyyyy?” you dragged out his name in that adorable way you did when you wanted something. “I’ll sit in the shade and I’ll let you know if I’m not feeling good, I promise.”

He contemplated it. The race wasn't until later in the evening and the temperature should be cooler, but still. . . “You’ll go home and lay in bed until then?” 

You nodded, holding your pinky out to him in a silent promise.

Unable to deny you of anything, he reluctantly looped his pinky with yours. “Fine, but we’re only stayin’ for the race. No bonfire afterwards.”

You beamed at him and he knew you were proud of yourself for once again swaying him with your charms. 

******

Hours later, as the picnic was just getting into full swing, Johnny couldn’t hide the smile on his face as Benny pulled up with you on the back of his bike. Though surprised, he was sure you had roped the kid into coming, you seemed to be able to get away with just about anything when it came to Benny. He shook his head, as he watched Benny help you off and the two of you approached his picnic table filled with the core members of the Vandals, noting how he seemed to hold you a little tighter as if you were bound to trip and fall. 

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be takin’ it easy?” he badgered as he stood to give you a hug. 

“And miss out on a race?” you grinned as you gave him a quick hug before looping your arm back through Benny's. “Never.”

“Well, it’s good to see you’re feelin’ better, kid,” he said honestly. 

Funny Sonny caught sight of the reunion and hollered as he approached. “Hey Bunny, I’d hate to see the other guy!” 

You blushed as you remembered the bruise forming on your face and before you could say anything, Benny spoke up from beside you. “Yeah, she got ‘em good with her mean right hook.”

You grinned at him as Sonny laughed. “Hell yeah! Bunny’s a fighter now, boys!”

They cheered and you rolled your eyes playful as you leaned up on your tippy-toes to plant a kiss on Benny’s cheek. 

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