Bringing him lunch
āāāāāāāāāāā
āāāāāāāāāāāāā
You walk up to him while heās training with the other dragon gods, including Doromag, his best friend and a close friend of yours as well. Mercphobia, the water dragon god, Selene the moon dragon god, Aldoron the wood dragon god, Viernes the gold dragon god although you only know Doromag.
The pretty red sundress Ignia bought you flows around you like a flickering flame as youāre mindful of his heat, but when Doromag makes Ignia aware of your presence his flames slowly curl around youāwarm but not overwhelming as it lifts you off your feet and brings you to him.
You carry a homemade lunch you made for him, the bento box filled with A-5 Wagyuāsix in total. Three of them are cooked to medium rare and the other three are rawājust how he loves it. You also added a few jalapeƱo and habanero peppers wrapped in bacon and filled with cream cheese since you know he absolutely adores eating them ever since the first time you made them for him; and lastly you made some spicy fried chicken, a dish Ignia has begged you to make ever since the first time you made it for himāitās his absolute favorite dish. You even included some in Doromagās bento as well.
You hold two canteens filled with their favorite aleāVonia ale. Itās very expensive and extremely hard to find. You make a separate bento for Doromag as you always had whenever he trained with Igniaāhis bento is also very personalized to his earthy taste with Sumerian spice grilled fish, Harra meat stew, and spiced lamb pilaf.
āāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāāā
The battlefield crackles with energy as the Dragon Gods clash, their powers colliding in a spectacle of fire, water, shadows, and gold. Even from afar, you can feel the sheer weight of their presenceāeach one a force beyond mortal comprehension. But your focus isnāt on them.
Itās on him.
Ignia stands in the center of it all, flames roaring around him as he fights against Doromag. His movements are fierce, relentless, untamedābut still, undeniably graceful, like a wildfire dancing through the wind. Even with sweat glistening on his skin, his golden eyes are sharp, locked onto his opponent with an unwavering, predatory intensity.
But the moment Doromag notices you, the entire battlefield shifts.
āOi, Igniaālook whoās here.ā
At first, Ignia doesnāt react. He keeps his stance firm, his body taut with battle-ready tension. But thenā
His flames flicker. Shift.
And then, before you can take another step, his fireāhis very essenceāreaches for you.
The flames curl around you, warm but never burning, never overwhelming. They lift you off the ground, wrapping you in a cocoon of heat and power, drawing you toward him as if the very fire itself recognizes you as his.
The moment youāre within reach, Igniaās arm is around your waist, pulling you against him. His body is scorching, his pulse wild, but itās not from the fight anymoreāitās from you.
āTch. Took you long enough, woman.ā
You roll your eyes, but thereās no real annoyance behind itāonly fondness.
āI swear, if thatās your way of saying āthank you,ā I might just give this food to Doromag insteadāā
A growl rumbles deep in Igniaās chest, and before you can blink, his grip tightens. His tail flicks behind him, golden eyes narrowing as he glares at his best friend.
āTouch my food, and Iāll burn your damn hands off.ā
Doromag just laughs, shaking his head as he crosses his arms.
āRelax, flame-brain. Iāve got my own, yeah?ā He glances at the bento in your hands, and the moment he catches the scent of the spiced lamb pilaf, Harra meat stew, and Sumerian spice-grilled fish, his smirk widens. āHah, you always know how to treat a guy right. Maybe I should steal you from Igniaāā
Doromag doesnāt even finish the sentence before Igniaās flames surge up in warning.
āTry it and see what happens, bastard.ā
You chuckle, shaking your head as you press the bento box into Igniaās chest. He takes it with one hand, his other arm still curled protectively around your waist.
The second he opens it, his expression shifts.
A5 Wagyuāsix pieces, three cooked medium-rare, three raw. Bacon-wrapped jalapeƱo and habanero peppers filled with cream cheese. Spicy fried chicken, his absolute favorite.
And Vonia ale. The most expensive, hardest-to-find ale in existence.
For a moment, he just stares at it.
Thenā
āHah.ā His fangs flash as he grins, a low, satisfied chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. His tail flicks behind him, pleased. āYou really do love me, huh?ā
Your face heats up, but before you can respond, he pulls you closer. His head dips down, lips brushing against your ear, his breath scorching against your skin.
āYou spoil me too much, you know that?ā
Your heart pounds, but you manage to huff, turning your head to meet his gaze.
āYou say that like you donāt love it.ā
His grin widens, and instead of answering, he pops a raw Wagyu slice into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as he savors the flavor.
You donāt miss the way his flames burn hotter around youānot in anger, but in satisfaction.
Doromag, already halfway through his own meal, snorts.
āHah! Look at this guy, acting all high and mighty when heās just a spoiled bastard with a mate who feeds him like a damn king.ā
Ignia doesnāt even bother responding to him.
His focus is on you.
And as he takes another bite, his tail coils around your ankle, his flames lingering against your skin, his eyes gleaming with something raw, possessive, utterly unshakable.
Even with the other Dragon Gods watching, even with the battlefield still echoing with the remnants of their fightā
Itās clear.
You are his.
And he is, without question, yours.
















