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She should have the strength to push past the aching tangle of rage, sadness, longing and resolve Smoke planted in her heart. Annie likes to pretend that the night that he ran away from her (and their shared loss) to Chicago was just a nightmare. 

She tries to forget that her breasts had dried of milk just four days before those brothers drove off in the blue light of dawn to the north. She pretends that the ashes from the note and money he left for her doesn’t linger in the old firepit out back. For seven years Annie bit the lie bumps off her tongue from the amount of times she lied to Mary, declaring she was fine, that the twins wrote and they were fine, and that the bones told her they’d be back any day now and Stack was gonna wife her next. 

Annie is fine now. 

The Nile was just a river hundreds of miles away from her. She is over that fleeting insecurity that she’ll never be enough for her soulmate to stay (Smoke is back with her after all, sleeping right beside her on the mattress at this very moment). She is over that petty fear of being left alone. She is over the fear of being abandoned. 

Annie had worked a strong root to heal her heartaches, damnit! She is over it, so over those insecurities that her and Elijah built a whole house together! Four rooms, a basement, indoor plumbing, a wrap around porch and a greenhouse! They built that together.

So, Annie had no reason to fear the possibility that her and Elijah’s love had combined together once again to make something more than just a home and that she could be with...

Annie is fine.

She is a healthy woman with a healed heartache! She's got her man back and he ain't going anywhere, not off with money, not off with another woman, not running away again. So! There wasn't a thing wrong with her.

Not a thing is growing in her, she is not-  

Annie is back in her dreams again.

She finds herself dressed in light blue and basket weaving in a field of butterfly weeds. The breeze cool and gentle, the sun warm and bright, water laps around her and minnows tickle her feet, a bone white bass leaps high sprinkling Annie with twinkling water splashes.

No… no water… there shouldn’t be water here. 

Annie focuses on the weaving, she can’t knot the reeds, but there goes those two big shining goldfish splashing and bumping into her ankles like a child wanting att-

Annie stands abruptly,  the wind swirls dark clouds overhead as she dashes away from the waters. Her feet pound the dirt until it melds into mud, then slashes into marshy shallow waters. Annie can’t help but cry as she runs into deeper waters now. She forces herself to stop, chest heaving and aching as she tries to breath ties to race away but is paralyzed as the water rises and rises over her.

Now here she stands at the bottom of the Mississippi river, her breath is a cloud of bubbles while the minnows racing by feel like whizzing bullets.

Annie can only brace herself and scream as two golden fish the size of ferry ships crash into her.

Annie wakes up with a jolt, a wave of nervous nausea slamming her just as quickly and she catches the dry gag into her hand. She is barely able to swallow it back when Smoke snaps awake and sits up as well at her hitch of breath. Annie shivers as his arm wraps around her shoulders then forces her face towards him so he can inspect her. Smoke frowns as Annie barely swallows back a sharp sting of heartburn, her hands clutching together over her chest in a plea for strength.  

“Ya okay? Sumthin’ spook ya?” He asks, before she can answer Smoke stares out their window tuning his ear to calculate the creaks of the house. 

“Want me to get Stack to check the boundary? It’s like fo’ in the mornin’, he still out ‘dere” Smoke strategizes and Annie shakes her head. Annie gently pulls away from his hold, swinging her legs over the side of the bed so she can force her head between her knees to breathe through the sharp dizzy need to throw up. 

“Ann? Baby, what’s wrong?” Smoke asks his voice low and deep from sleep, he rubs a hand up and down her spine in comfort. Smoke goes to curl an arm around her middle but Annie abruptly stands, his touch too much.

Annie stands there, back to Smoke with hands on her achy hips, just trying to breath through this…sickness…not not sickness just, nerves. Annie’s nerves were bad from a nightmare is all. It has been storming lately, she’ll have to tell the weather man at the newspaper about her concerns in case the riverbend outside of town floods. 

“Annie? You okay?” Smoke asks again, his concern prickles the hot skin of her neck.

“Huh? Yeah… yeah I’m fine ‘Lijah. I had a bad dream is all.” Annie says in a croaky whisper.

“A dream dream or one of dem premonitions?”

“I…I don’t know right now. Gonna throw some bones ‘bout it.” Annie excuses as she sways out of their bedroom into the hall. She ignores the bed creaking behind her, determined to go towards their office at first, but quickly staggers into the bathroom to vomit instead. Annie only makes it to the sink before losing her dinner, fearful tears prick her eyes at the sounds of Smoke’s hustling steps in the hallway. She slams the door closed before kneeling over the toilet and gagging again.

“Annie! What the Hell is goin’ on witcho?” Smoke asks through the door. Annie shakes her head in frustration.

“Go on somewhere, Smoke! Just…just give me a minute.” She grumbles before spitting out the sour taste in her mouth just to heave again. Smoke still stands on the other side of the door, “Smoke?” he mouths in disbelief with a frustrated sigh as he opens the door.

“Now Woman…”

“Go on somewhere, Man!” Annie retorts before fighting off another wave, by the time she comes back to herself Smoke sits on the edge of the tub rubbing the back of her neck. Annie hums when he presses the back of his hand to the side of her forehead then holds her cheek, his thumb rubbing away the tears from where her eyes watered.

“Ya ain’t too warm, just clammy.” Smoke reports and Annie shrugs. “Told ya, that dream just rattled me.” 

“Never seen one make ya sick before… ‘cept when-”

“Let’s just go back to bed.” Annie mutters over him, blinking up at him with sad sleepy eyes. Smoke frowns but nods firmly. Annie bites back a whimper when his hands leave her face. (Is he going to leave her? Where is he running to with out her again?)

Instead of vanishing into mist like her mind projected, Smoke’s arms go under hers and gently he brings Annie back to her feet. Annie goes to pull away but is stopped by Smoke wrapping her to his chest in a comforting embrace, Annie lets her head rest above his heart. 

“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” Smoke asks after a quiet moment and Annie shakes her head.

“ Elijah please, I jus’ wanna go back to bed.” Annie tells him, he leads her over to the sink where she quickly rinses out her mouth. Smoke holds her hand steady as he leads the two of them back to bed. Annie lays down but stops Smoke from tucking the sheet back around her, the action makes Smoke lift an eyebrow in question. Annie smacks her lips, Smoke sighs and climbs in on the other side.

“No cover?”

“Too hot.”

“Too hot? You ain’t complain bout that in a while.” Smoke notes, easing back in bed. He extends his arm out and Annie shuffles into the space he’s made. Her head resting over his heart when his arm then cuddles her close by the shoulders. Annie hums and settles further into him, closing her eyes as she lets out a sigh.

The next time Annie wakes up to sunlight shining on her face while her hand meets the cool and empty side of bed. Panic strikes Annie in the chest, she tries to calm herself by looking at the clock on the wall, it reads 10:06 and that makes her scramble out of bed to search for her man (again.)

The sheets tangle around the bottom of her legs causing Annie to yelp as her side crashes into the vanity. Annie holds on to the edge of the wood trying to get her breathing under control (Why in the world wouldn’t Smoke wake her up, it’s so late! )

“Elijah!” she chokes out with tears prickling her eyes. 

Silence. It feels like water is filling her lungs and the sharp bards of catfish cut her calves.

“Elijah!” Annie calls out louder this time. A cabinet door closes loudly and a gruff, “Huh?” answers her from the kitchen. 

Annie swallows down her lump of panic until it melts into a fading anxiousness at his clueless answer. She roughly wipes away the stray tears and slips into her house coat. Annie made way to the kitchen with quick steps, Smoke meets her in the doorway. In one hand is a bowl of scrambled eggs with a buttermilk biscuit drowned with apple butter and the other a chilled lemonade. 

“There ya is.” Annie mumbles, more to herself than to him, then gives him a kiss. 

“Mornin’” Smoke says as soon as his lips are free. There is a soft somberness in his tone before Annie can linger about it; Smoke presses the bowl into her hands before turning back into the kitchen. Annie hums as she makes her way through the back door and onto their porch, Smoke follows behind her with peach preserves smothering his biscuits and a steaming coffee mug. The two settle into their respective chairs on the west facing deck, Annie squints at the three-room shotgun cabin at the edge of their new property line as she eats.

The cabin is a solid thing painted creamy white to reflect the light with a slimmer porch tucked behind three huge jasmine shrubs to block more light. A big outdoor tub rests on the north side of it and the only window on it is two skinny panels of frosted glass facing east towards them. A navy wool curtain is currently pulled taunt to close as if not to let a single steam of sunlight in. Annie looks down to see two sets of deer antlers covered in dried blood resting on the path leading up to the cabin door. 

“Glad they got back in time last night. Mary said Stack’s been lingering until it’s blue dawn.” Annie says and Smoke hums as he lights his pipe. 

“Had ‘im do another patrol around the riverbend fo’ they went in fo’ the day. Since ya was spooked I had ‘im make sure them honkies stay in they spot.” Smoke says as he smoothly puffs out a cloud of tobacco high over their heads. Annie resisted the urge to take a deep whiff of it like she did when she was first preg-

Annie stuffs a forkful of eggs in her mouth to shake away the ridiculous thought. Smoke puffs again and Annie takes a swallow of lemonade to chase the urge off again, maybe she was wanting the habit. (she hasn’t smoked tobacco since she was 14 and tried to impress Smoke by stealing a pull off his cig, she promptly choked on it)

“You ain’t have to do that for me.” Annie says and Smoke shakes his head. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You talkin’ nonsense.” 

Annie rolls her eyes then makes a point to lay her legs over his and look away. Smoke chuckles at her antics continuing to smoke and eat. It’s Annie’s turn to giggle when he locks their ankles together. Soon the bugs buzz and some of Annie’s goats and chickens belt for attention, the birds call out loudly for one another overhead. Annie takes a deep breath, trying to smell for the chance of rain (not to smell tobacco!), instead she sneezes like a barn kitten on the pollen and Smoke smothers laugh behind a gulp of coffee. 

He is quick to dodge to the left when Annie goes to pinch his side.

“Dontcha laugh, Man!”

“I ain’t say a word, Woman!” 

“Yeah right. Whats the plan for today?” Annie asks

“Well, first imma leave ya again. Imma promise to write, then never do it. And the-”

“Da fuck you say!?” Annie spits, she whirls her legs away from him then slams her feet to the ground as she stands. A desperate and hurtful fury fills her as she glares down into Smoke’s bewildered eyes.

“What da fuck you heard? I said we going to Bo’s to getcha libation stuff!” he argues as he scrambles up as well, breakfast and pipe abandoned to his chair.

Annie blinks hard at him, once, twice, on the third time she opens her eyes to see Smoke’s has stepped in close and his hand cradles her face. Seeming to search Annie’s eyes for any kinda answer to this shifting pendulum of emotions from her.

Smoke frowns in deep concern, Annie can practically taste the sadness rolling off of him at her behavior. (The fuck he sad for? He can just leave all the sadness in her like last time) She tries to look away but Smoke won’t allow it, stepping in another step and enclosing her between himself and the porch post.

“Now, Antonia Moore, you talk to ya husband now.” Smoke instructs with a pointed look and Annie scoffs.

“Oh, so now my husband likes talkin’? Took ya eight years to learn that new trick huh?” Annie snaps. Smoke’s eyebrows shoot up, his hands drags down until they rest on her shoulders to hold down his tremors.

“Annie? What the hell is wrong? Ya sick or sumthin’? Or is it-” Smoke asks again, pushing past Annie’s anger to get to her hurt. Annie shakes his hands off her and marches down the porch steps towards their daughter's tree “Or is it what? What you know, Smoke?” Annie snaps once more. 

"You own my name woman, you betta use it. Now talk to me Ann, I'm hurting too." Smoke scolds as he grabs Annie’s wrist to stop her running off. Annie whirls around, at the last minute forcing her free hand down to clutch the fabric of Smoke’s shirt so she wouldn’t hit him. Smoke bites his lip as tears gather in the corners of his eyes to see Annie shaking with the energy of emotions she refused to communicate to him. 

But he had an idea for this cause. 

“You best unhand me! Fuck you know 'bout how I hurt?” Annie argues, tears in her voice as well to see him tearing up. Her chest burns in an aching familiar way that Annie must swallow down and push past. Her mind is a haze of fury and hurt that want to drown her. Smoke shakes his head, pulling her close again he rests his hand over hers on his chest. 

It's gonna rain today, Annie can feel it.

“Today’s July 1st…. I’m sorry today’s July 1st.” is all Elijah says in a croaky whisper.

Those words are like scissors on puppet strings and Smoke braces the both of them as Annie’s knees buckle. Annie collapses into his arms, forehead knocking his chin and all Smoke can do is hold her tight and ease them to the ground as she wails.

It is a sound Annie hasn’t let out in eight years. A deep bellied, soul shattering wail that silences the buzz of bugs and animal calls, it pauses the wind from jiggling her blue glass chimes, even the heat goes still, choking the air.

Smoke lets his own tears roll as Annie pounds the side of chest with a mix of hysterical and weak thumps. Annie alternates between clutching him back and buckling around as if to tear out of her skin as she cries. Smoke holds on strong and steady to Annie while the navy curtain across the way moves and waves, tugs taunt as if someone was fighting the decision to open it wide to the morning sun. 

It is the same wail of aching grief that Annie cried when her daughter let out her last breath at just 7 months old.  

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You’d settled on your favorite flared black slacks, and a hunter green, sleeveless, twisted halter that showed off your arms and shoulders. You had the mark on display as you sauntered into work. “Good morning, Wendy.” You stood in front of your receptionist desk as she typed away at something. 

“Good morning, Ms. Y/l/n-” The woman's eyes widened behind her large, square framed glasses. She noticed the various marks you had around your neck and chest. You proudly displayed the bite on your shoulder, the rest were just a piss-poor cover up job. “Good morning indeed.” A smile spread on her face. “Looks like you had an eventful weekend.” Your cheeks started to heat up from embarrassment, but you tried your best to hide it. “Did you find someone on that dating app? That fancy business professionals one?”

“Remind me of the meeting later, okay? And switch my two o’clock to three, I’m meeting them for coffee on the other side of town.” You ignored her question, grabbing your regular coffee and breakfast order off of her desk. “Thanks for this! Later!” You could hear her complaining as you closed the door to your office. You couldn't hide the triumphant smile on your face. Wendy was a gossip, a big one. The news of your bite mark would be office news before lunch, you knew that. You wanted the word to get back to a certain coworker of yours, hoping maybe he'd come find you. 

You flipped the privacy glass switch on your office, you always kept it on when you were in there, you liked the semblance of privacy it gave you. You moved away from the door to head to your desk and nearly jumped out of your skin when your desk chair turned around, revealing the man who’d been waiting in your office for you to get there. “Fuc- Felix!” You grabbed our chest, nearly spilling your coffee all over yourself. Thankfully it was blended with ice and not hot.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. But I couldn’t wait until later.” He got out of your seat as you made your way over to your desk. He held the back of it for you as you sat down. “Changbin is acting funny.” You froze, body stiff from the thought of being found out. This was new to the both of you and you’d both agreed it would be best to explore things before telling anyone, if you decided to tell anyone at all. This was casual. But it had the possibility to be more, if you wanted that. For now, you were completely fine with just getting your back blown out on a regular basis.

You relaxed your posture, putting things away as you spoke, avoiding eye contact. “Acting funny? Did he upload more unserious tik tok videos without you again?” You joked, but Felix really had a fit the last time Binnie did TikTok videos without him. It took a full day of retail therapy and some very expensive computer parts to calm him down. You glanced at him as his eyes widened, he quickly pulled out his phone to check. 

“God- I didn’t think of that-” He let out a sigh of relief, “No-no, he didn’t.” He shook his head and pushed his long blonde locks out of his face. You always wondered how he could be so pretty so early in the mornings. Even though he told you his morning and night skincare routine, it didn’t magically change your face into some magical member of the fae community like you thought it would. It just made you look oily. “No. We had plans this weekend. Well- I had plans that involved him and he was a no show. He didn’t pick up his phone and didn’t text. I couldn’t reach him until late last night. You know that's not like him.” He leaned against the edge of your desk, “I think… he’s seeing someone.” You didn’t mean to, but you burst out laughing.

You had flashes of being on your side with his arms wrapped tightly around you, one hand squeezing your neck lightly while the other lay flat on your stomach as he slowly drug his cock in and out of you. You didn’t know what session you were on by then, but it was just as good as the first, just much lazier. Your laughter quickly subsided as the thoughts flooded your mind.

You cleared your throat, pushing the thoughts out. “Binnie? Seeing someone? Between workouts and work? He must be seeing the chest press or some dumbbells, because I don’t see him dating someone for real.” You shook your head for added emphasis, taking a sip of your coffee to ease your ever drying throat. It wasn’t like you to lie, especially not to Felix. You two had been close since you hired him to be head of digital marketing four years ago. “Do you even remember what happened the last time he decided to date someone?” You both shuddered from the thoughts of Changbin's previous relationship. “You know for a fact he has terrible taste and usually picks the worst people to like.” He nodded, but it was written on his face that he wasn’t buying it.

“True. But-” He stopped mid-sentence as there was a knock on your door.

You could see the stocky build of someone outside your glass door, “Y/n, do you have a se-” Changbin pushed your door open, just to stop as he made eye-contact with Felix. “I’ll just come back later.” Felix shot up from his seat on your desk and ran over to Changbin. He was clad in his usual business attire. Black slacks, white dress shirt with a few (more than a few) buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his chopard watch glimmering on his wrist. His jacket was probably in his office where he usually left it. It looked as if he’d just put product in his hair as it was still a little damp looking , a few loose curls were clinging to his forehead. He had on his blue-light glasses to complete the look of a non-chalant, playboy, businessman.

“No, no. Come, sit, chat. We were just talking about you.” Felix pulled Changbin into the room, forcefully sitting him on one of the chairs in front of your desk as he took the other one. If looks could kill, Felix would have died twice, once from you and once from Binnie. 

“We were not talking. You were talking and I was mostly listening to you being irrational.” You leaned forward to finally address Changbin, who’d had his eyes on you the whole time. “He thinks you are seeing someone.” You leaned back in your seat to see how he would tackle that statement. It wasn’t a test, but at the same time it kind of was.

“I am.” You nearly choked, eyes wide. Changbin, was sitting comfortably, manspreading, arms on both arm rests as he looked at you keenly. He’d tossed the ball back in your court so fast you couldn’t even think of one damn thing to say.

Felix jumped out of his seat, his booming voice filling the space as he yelled. “See! I told you.” Felix sat at the edge of your desk again as his fingers caressed his chin. “But now I need to know who. Who is he around that often? Besides us.” Felix was deeply concentrated on connecting the dots in his mind while you and Changbin duked it out while not saying a word to one another. 

“If you must know Felix, I met someone at the gym.” You pushed your hair off of your shoulder, unconsciously revealing the mark Changbin had left there. He shifted in his seat as he noticed it, blood immediately rushing to his nether regions as the playback of his weekend flashes rapidly through his mind.

“Y/n did say if you were dating, it was probably  a chest press or some dumbbells.” Binnie smirked at that and God, how you hated his damn cocky but sexy little smirks. “Guess she wasn’t far off with that.” Felix moved again, taking his seat next to Changbin once again as you tried to avoid the eyes of the man who hadn’t looked away from you since he sat down. You pretended to answer emails, sip on your coffee and even scribbled some absolute nonsense down, all just to make it seem like you were busier than you were. All just to get yourself out of this conversation. “So, tell me all about them.” Felix was sitting with his legs crossed in the chair, excitedly waiting for his friend to tell him all about his new paramour.

Changbins eyes finally stopped scrutinizing you and focused on your mutual friend. “What is there to tell? From the moment she walked in, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She looked stunning in her matching set, and that was what started the brain fog for me. I don’t think I had a pure or coherent thought after seeing her walk in.” Felix was all ears, like this was a raunchy reality show, while you were at your desk trying your best not to overthink his words or simultaneously combust. “She asked for my help. I guess I look like I know what I’m doing.” He flexed his bicep and you scoffed, which only caused him to smirk again. “Of course I agreed, I wouldn’t have been able to say no to her pretty face even if I wanted to. We started off with stretches..” You tugged on your collar to loosen the grip it had on your neck to no avail. 

“It was easy for both of us at first, our conversation was flowing, she was killing the stretches with my guidance. But I don’t know.. Something just kind of clicked? Snapped maybe? Because we ended up railing right there in the gym without shame.” Felix was intrigued, this had to be one of the best porn plots he’d ever heard. He was used to Changbin being Changbin, but this was far out of even his wheelhouse. He looked from Changbin to you and back. You kept glancing out the side of your eye, watching while still pretending to be working. “We went back to her place. And I kind of spent the weekend with her exploring my body and me exploring hers. It was a weekend well spent. Sorry about bailing on you, she presented an opportunity I couldn’t miss out on.” 

Binnie shyly looked down, he didn’t think he’d be recounting his weekend in front of the woman he’d spent it with. He shifted again, his member was half hard and getting harder any time he thought about all the things he’d done to you and vice versa. And now for you to have that bite mark he gave you on exhibit? You were trying to kill him, take him out. You couldn’t have known what you were doing to him looking like that. If he had a little less shame, he’d ask to take you again. Right here on this desk, right there in front of Felix. Hell- the whole office could watch, just as long as he got to be with you again. The off control for the privacy glass wasn’t but a few feet away and a literal flick of a switch.

“So, what now? Do you plan on seeing her again?” Felix was usually a bit more reserved when it came to other peoples business, but Changbin? Changbin was one of his absolute favorite people on earth and he loved seeing him this happy, especially since it was so unusual.

“I do. If she’ll let me, that is.” Changbin finally looked up again, making eye contact with you. You couldn’t look away this time, trapt in the fire that danced in his eyes. It was like he was trying to convey something to you, but didn’t have the right words. Like he wanted you to feel what he was feeling in that moment and decipher what his words really meant.

“She let you stay with her all weekend, of course she’d take you up on the offer.” Felix said as he texted the group chat that Changbin met someone. Both your phones dinged but neither of you looked away. Felix looked up at you when he noticed you didn’t reach for your phone and that's when he noticed the bite mark on your shoulder. “Wait- what the heck is that on your shoulder?” You quickly covered the mark, averting your eyes from Binnie and back to your computer. Felix got up, making his way over to you, a teasing smile on his face. “Isn’t this a turn of events? You too? Besides Chan, you two are the biggest workaholics here and you mean to tell me-”

“Leave her alone, Felix.” Changbin interrupted the boy, but that only made the alarm bells go off for Felix. “She can have a private life without having to tell her group of all male friends what’s going on in her bedroom all weekend.” Changbin’s body stiffened at his own words. It was like he’d sent an invitation into what had transpired all weekend, just by putting a few select key words in his sentence. He closed his eyes, hoping that Felix missed the underlined meaning to his words.

“Wait….” The wheels in his mind slowly started to turn, “Don’t tell me that..” He put his hand over his heart, “All… weekend? But wait.” He shook his head, not believing the thoughts that were swimming about up there. Binnie’s strange disappearance and your sudden interest in the opposite sex were way too coincidental. “Did you two…? Because this isn’t adding up. If two plus two is four……..” His bright eyes grew wide. “You DIDN’T!?!”

“Stop jumping to conclusions-” You finally spoke up just for Felix to jump to even further conclusions.

“The girl you met was Y/n? You fucked our Y/n?” He didn’t even bother addressing you, treating you like you weren’t even in the room with all his questions being directed at Changbin. “Come to think about it, she did say she wanted to start working out, just last week.” He flopped in his seat as everything started to click for him. His two friends were both avoiding the truth, they had fucked each other this weekend. All weekend long at that. “You knew he wasn't available, because he was with you this weekend, that's why you didn’t panic when I said I couldn’t reach him. Oh my gosh- You fucked Binnie?” He pointed at you accusingly as he spoke the last part rather loudly.. 

Changbin stood to his feet and pulled Felix up and out the seat. “Don’t you have work to do or something?” He gently moved the younger man towards the door. Felix was too in shock to even protest as he was pushed out the door of your office.

Changbin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe they both had been found out so easily. But something in the back of his mind was kind of happy about the outcome. There really wasn’t a reason to hide. There was no company policy about fraternization. You were both adults. You were both single. Plus there was no weird power imbalance, you were both high up in the company. So what was stopping you from pursuing a relationship, especially if that's what you wanted to do?

You leaned back in your chair, fingers pushing into your eye sockets. You sighed loudly, “You know if Wendy gets wind of what Felix has to say, the office will know about us before the morning meeting, right?” You moved your hands, dejected. If you were going to spill the beans, you wanted to do it yourself. Changbin came over to you and placed both hands on the arm rests of your chair, turning you towards him. 

“I know. But I don’t care.” Your eyes widened, confused. “If they know, they know. Who I like is none of their concern and neither is who I’m fucking. Plus, I’m a grown man capable of making his own decisions. I’ll stand firm on that, because you have to live your life with 줏대” He hooked his index finger under your chin to make you look at him. “It’s fine as long as you're okay with it. I want whatever you want.” 

Were you okay with everyone knowing your business? Yes and no. If you did decide to continue this thing you had with Binnie, that meant that everyone would be free to scrutinize your relationship. It also meant that people might start to think you’d gotten your position because of him. That simply wasn’t the case, you’d worked hard to get here and you, Changbin, Han, and Chris had built this company up from the ground yourselves. So people could go fuck themselves if they thought you sucked dick or kissed ass to get to this point in your career.

“You like me?” You teased, causing a slight blush to dust his cheeks as he looked away shyly.

“I-I mean.. maybe a little bit.” You giggled, shy Changbin was the absolute cutest to you.

“Just… a little bit?” His ears were red as he continued to look at everything but you. “What happened to living your life with Jut-whatever it is you said?” He bit down on his bottom lip to suppress a smirk.

“You're right.” He nodded looking down at your lap, before looking you dead in your eyes with fire and determination behind his own. “I want us to be a thing. Not just friends with benefits, either… unless that's all you want, then it's fine. I want to hold your hand In public and kiss you. I want to tell everyone about my hot and smart girlfriend. To not be afraid of what people may think or say about our relationship, because.. fuck’em, right?”

You couldn't hold back the smile that formed on your lips. “Right. Fuck'em.” He was suddenly shy again, trying his best to hold back the giddiness he felt bubbling up on the inside. “That's a yes, by the way.” 

His cheeks rounded out as his lips curled into a smile. “Yes, you'll be my girlfriend?” You nodded and he immediately captured your lips. You don't know how, But he scooped you up and out of your chair to place you gently on your glass desk. He situated himself between your legs, all while never breaking the kiss you both were engrossed in. His hands roamed all over your body, taking purchase of your hips. A lot of things could be said about Changbin when it came to his body, but you could definitely say he wasn’t as aggressive as he looked. He was always gentle unless you asked him not to be. That was something you’d discovered over the weekend.

“How long until that morning meeting?” His lips were still on yours as he spoke. His fingers glided along the waistband of your slacks, itching to get the fabric off your body.

“It's supposed to be at nine forty-five, but you know they never start on ti-” Your sentence was cut short as Changbin tossed little items like pens and a few important papers off your desk.

“Guess we don't have much time then.” You tilted your head, wondering what exactly he meant. But your question was soon answered as he sat in your desk chair and lowered it until he was at chin level to your crotch. “I can get in a good pre-meeting meal.” Quick fingers made quick work of your side zipper, before moving back to the waistband to pull the fabric down and off you. You helped by lifting your hips, unconcerned with your weight on the glass table beneath you. It was sturdy, it would definitely hold, right?

He didn’t waste time pulling your panties off, he just simply pulled them to the side, sighing at the sight of you. “I’ve missed you.” He spoke to your pussy before placing a chaste kiss on it. You chuckled at his ridiculousness, knowing you felt the exact same as him. It hadn’t been a full twelve hours since he’d last been deep inside you, but that didn’t seem to matter to him at all. He needed you. He needed to taste you on his tongue, to feel you on his skin. He needed you carnally. Biblically. And you mirrored that sentiment.

The first swipe of his tongue sent shivers down your spine. His tongue was even warmer than your heat, the temperature difference was delicious. You tilted your head back as he slipped his tongue between your folds, teasing your bud with the tip of the muscle, knowing how impatient that made you. He was toying with you, and you were going to let him. It was amazing how in a matter of days he’d learned how to please you like he’d known your body inside and out for years. He started slowly, swiping and flicking his tongue. But things quickly started to escalate. He pushed your legs even further apart,  indecent slurps started to fill the room. You bit down on your bottom lip. No matter how private the privacy glass in your office felt, it didn’t cancel out noise. You had to be careful of how loud you were, you didn’t want your noisy secretary to let the whole office in on what you and your colleague were doing behind closed doors.

You grabbed a tuft of his wavy hair, tugging on it gently. “Harder..” He spoke against you. You should have known that was what he wanted. He’d encouraged you to tug his hair hard every single time he was between your legs, and sometimes even when he wasn’t. You tugged and he groaned, burying his face deeper into you. Your toes curled in your stilettos, you were close. Teetering on the edge of climax. He pressed his mouth further against you, like he wanted to become a part of you. That's what broke the levy and sent you hurtling over the edge. You bit down on your bottom lip to stop the loud moan that threatened to escape it. When that wasn't doing enough, You covered your mouth with your hand. 

Changbin didn’t come up for air. He coaxed you through with little kitten licks, his eyes staring up at you, watching. He pressed a soft Kiss to your clit once your body finally stopped shaking. Grabbing him up as quickly as you could, you pulled him in, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. You could taste yourself lingering on his lips and tongue along with the faint taste of his morning americano. “I hate to break this up, but we need to get to that meeting and I have to…” He pulled back and looked down at the massive bulge pressing against his fitted slacks. “Adjust myself.” 

Your eyes followed his, locking in on the thickness pressed against the zipper of his pants. You were tempted to tell him, “fuck the meeting”, but you know exactly what that meant. Boyfriend or not, you both were in high positions in this company and had obligations to it. You rubbed your hands over his bulge and sighed, “Fine. We will put a pin in this. But know this, Mr. Seo, I will return the favor.” His lips curled into a smirk, hands moving to rest on your hips.

“Oh, I know. And I can’t wait.”

The meeting and the work that seemed to pile in afterwards had the two of you beyond busy. Any thoughts of running away to his or your corner office to canoodle had been ripped off the table along with eating a good lunch. There were issues with the distribution plan for your fall launch as well as some manufacturing issues with a few of the pieces, so that meant this issue came first. That meant you had to cancel any other plans you had for the day and add even more hours to your fifty plus hour work week, after hours. The time in the day seemed to melt away - along with parts of your sanity-. You were back and forth from the conference room to your office, in hopes of finding a solution to your distribution issues, to no avail. 

“If I have to listen to one more excuse from our distribution partners, I swear I’m going to flip this fucking table.” Chan groaned, running his fingers through his curly hair. “No one seems to want to take the blame, even though they are aware there is a problem.” There was honestly no hope left in the room. The fall launch was supposed to go on presale soon, but there was no way the company would be ready in time with a recall on half of apparel.  He let out a harsh sigh, digging his fingers into his eye sockets to relieve the tension. “This can’t be solved tonight. Let’s break for the night and resume this in the morning.” 

Everyone was tired and hungry at this point, multiple people having missed out on an actual lunch. You’d settled on a handful of nuts and your third coffee for the day for lunch and your stomach sure was letting you know it had a problem with that. “Fine with me, Minho keeps texting asking where I am. Something about the cats missing me.” Jisung said nonchalantly as he packed up his things. 

“So, he misses you and wants to blame it on the cats. Got it.” You chuckled. You found their relationship to be super cute, even if Minho would cut you down with just a look for even thinking about it. You said your goodbyes, opting to stay around and look for other solutions. As the chief marketing officer, it was your job to make sure that all of your marketing was set and in place for every roll out of products. You couldn’t do your job to promote the fall line if there was no fall line. You said your goodbyes to mostly everyone, taking notice of how Changbin stayed behind, watching all of your friends leave one by one.

“I thought they would never leave.” You chuckled, mind slightly preoccupied with finding a solution to all of the company's mounting problems. “What do you need me to do? Put me to work.” Changbin was the C.O.O. of the company, this really had nothing to do with his role, but he stayed around just to help you out. “I can look for documents. Contact international retailers to let them know of the incoming delay. Go get you and I some food from that Thai spot you like around the corner. Or I can rub your shoulders, feet, or scalp, help you relax. Or, I can help you relax in other ways….” With a wink, he slowly made his way around the large conference table. His warm hands landed on your shoulders, massaging gently, helping to relax all of the tension you’d been holding there since the first thing that morning. 

“Can I pick ‘D’, all the above? Because it all sounds delightful.”  You never took your eyes off of your screen, even with you melting into his touch. 

“You can have whatever you want, babe.” You could hear the silly little smile he had on his face in his tone. “Unless we are talking about me fetching the moon for you, that will take a little more than a trip down the street.” You chuckled as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Let’s start with food, you need to eat. And my stomach might actually revolt if I don’t get anything in it soon.” You agreed with a nod. 

He put in an order of your usual and you took the time away from the computer to sit and eat with him. It honestly helped to calm the anxiety that you were beginning to swim in the deep end of. Even if your new found relationship was just beginning, you somehow knew that Changbin was the best decision you’d made to date. 

He pulled out his laptop to help you search through correspondence between you and the manufacturer. You needed to tackle the issues with the clothes before you could even get towards distribution. You both silently combed through emails and emails of correspondence, before something finally jumped out at you. You held your breath, reading over every line of the email. “....We have settled on a swatch, the color #33ffe9 and #000000, for the fall line breathable legging, scoop neck tee, and the flex sports bra! The fabrics chosen are a mix of man cellulosic fibers and elastane!” You screamed the last part. “I found it! Bin, baby, I found it!” His eyes were starting to gloss over from his tiredness. There was no amount of coffee that could remedy it. His eyes shot open with your screams.

He cleared his throat, hoping to clear any of the sleepiness out of it before he spoke. “Re-really?” He was unsuccessful. You smiled, making your way over to him. He pushed back his chair to let you take purchase his lap. You settled into the plush seat of his thick thighs. His arms naturally wrapped around your waist, one hand resting on your hip. “So they messed up?” He asked, stifling a yawn. You nodded, kissing his sleep riddled eyes.

“Yes, baby.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you looked at him. So happy that you took the leap into this relationship with him. You knew him well enough to know that he would make you very happy and that you would try your damndest to do the same. You pressed kisses to his face as his eyes closed. Your lips ghosted over his and his breath hitched.

“As sleepy as I am, you are about to awaken something else in me… tread carefully.” You chuckled, ignoring the warning he gave you. Pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his lips. That grip on your hip tightened as his control started to wavier. “Babe…” You disregarded his words, focusing on playfully loving on him. He let out a heavy sigh as you continued. You clearly had forgotten what kind of day he had. How he ate you out early this morning on your desk, or how he had denied himself a release to prioritize the urgent meeting this morning. It had been a long day of him busying himself to keep from thinking of the lingering need inside of him.

You had no idea what was happening until your ass was placed on the table. “Wha- when?” His lips moved to yours in a torrid kiss that immediately leaned into. His hands were needily pulling and tugging on your clothes.

“I need you.” You nodded, not even trying to refute a fact that you already knew. Before you knew it your clothes and his eyes strewn across the conference room table and floor without a care. His fingers hastily played between your folds, finding you to already be wet for him. “Already?” You bit back a smile and nodded. “This is what I do to you?” You hit his shoulder softly as one side of his lips curled into that ‘oh so cocky’ smirk that you’d grown to love. 

Your eyes rolled back as he slipped one, then two, then three fingers inside of you to stretch you out for him. No matter how needy he was, he knew his girth wouldn’t be able to just slip inside no matter how wet you were, not without him hurting you. He never wanted to hurt you. With only a few pumps of his fingers in and out of you, you were wet and ready for him. He distracted you by putting his lips on yours in a heated kiss as he slipped inside. You pulled away from his lips, letting out a wonton moan as your walls stretched to accommodate him.

“Fuck.. Bin.. baby…” You couldn’t even form coherent thoughts as his thick length speared in and out of you at a slow but consistent pace. You could feel your wetness dripping onto the table beneath you as well as coating his member, making the slide in and out of you even that more delicious. He groaned, wrapping his arms around you tightly, pulling you into his chest and lifting you off the table, continuing to pound into you. You were a mess, your hips moved on their own, grinding against him as he held you up, fucking into you as he stood. Your moans bounced off the conference room walls that were usually filled with business negotiations and meetings. Your nails dug into his back and shoulders, causing him to whine under you. “Please Bin… I-” 

You could barely get the words out before you were coming around him. Painting his cock with your thick white come. His hips stuttered, even if he spent the weekend paving his way into your cavern, it still didn’t prepare him for how tight you’d still be. “Shit.. babe.” His hips stopped moving as ropes of his come shot deep into you, coating your walls with it. You moaned, feeling the warmth he filled you with. He stumbled back, thankfully landing in the chair he had pushed back. You squeezed your tired walls around him, making him groan. “Yo-you haven’t learned your lesson yet, have you?” He asked, dragging his nose across the side of your neck. His voice horse from the passionate love making paired with the long day you both had endured.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I haven’t. But you have plenty of time to teach it to me.” You teased.

“And I plan on doing just that.”

It took nearly an hour to clean the conference room. The both of you were so tired, you opted for a hotel room across the street, rather than trying to make it to either of your homes with such heavily lidded eyes. Being the consummate business professionals that you both were, you both had a nice change of clothes stored in your office or in the back of your cars, so it wouldn’t look as if you spent the night fucking in the shared space that is the conference room. 

The next morning, the light poked through the hastily closed curtains, painting Changbins beautifully full face with light. You couldn’t help it as your fingers brushed over his soft yet manly features. “Keep that up and I might think you love me.” He spoke, eyes still closed. You chuckled.

“You never know, Binnie. I might.” His eyes shot open.

“Is that a confession? Because, I didn’t want it to be after I fucked you. I wanted my confession to be romantic.” A soft blush coated his cheeks. Your eyes widened.

“Huh?”

“Huh?!” Panic quickly set in over his features. “I mean-” You cut him off with a chaste kiss, lips lingering against his, savoring the cute moment.

“I love you too, Binnie.” His face relaxed as he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“I love you too, babe.”

FIN

READ THE SEQUEL HERE [COMING SOON]

Luciya had no idea what to expect. The Targaryens wanted a Dornish bride for the widowed crown prince. Why she was chosen, she never knew. The Crown had sought her hand, an offering of loyalty and protection in flesh and blood, to promote trust between the Dornish and the rest of Westeros.

But she did her duty to her house, to Dorne. She was to wed the man they called Breakspear.

She knew of the crown prince, of course. She was sheltered in Starfall when he led Dornishmen and Westerosi men together in battle. The Daynes had suffered a crisis at Redgrass field. Her father and one uncle had died on the day and soon after.

“You will be Queen one day.” Her lady grandmother, Elia Dayne, Lady of Starfall mused as they walked. through the gardens. She was ageing, her once dark hair now streaked grey, and lines in her sun-kissed skin told stories of a woman who had seen much. A woman who had lost sons and babies. But she was still formidable, still ruled and would do until she drew her last breath.

“Not one day soon, I hope,” Luciya replied. Was this to be the last time her curls would be worn free outside? To wear a dress of silk and show her shoulders without risking scandal?

Elia chuckled, taking her hand, “We never know what the future holds. We may only be ready for it. You are a Dayne, you are of Dorne. Always remember that.” She told her.

Luciya nodded, “I know my duty, grandmother. I shall not fail you or my house.”

“Oh, I know you will you not.”

The journey to King's Landing felt so long and yet not long enough.

When Luciya stepped off the boat, she looked to the sky, the same blue yet not the same sky in Dorne. There were more clouds, not grey but floating as though gathered for her to reflect her mood.

The air thrummed with life. So many voices, languages mingled with one another in a constant current, merchants shouting their wares, wheels grinding against stone, the distant cry of gulls above Blackwater Bay.

It was colder than Dorne, not freezing but she asked for a velvet cloak to wear as she stepped onto dry land. Her legs shook as she was escorted into her carriage, not just because of the chill in the air.

Luciya was slightly disappointed when the Queen's ladies and not Prince Baelor greeted her. Lady Cerenna Lannister, one of Queen Myriah’s ladies. The sister to the Lord Paramount in the Westerlands, Luciya recalled from her lessons. She was close to the Queen, influential at court.

“Welcome to King's Landing. You shall be escorted to your chambers to freshen up before being taken to the Queen.” Cerenna told her.

“Thank you.” Luciya replied, looking up around her. Targaryen red banners lined nearly every wall. Armoured guards were everywhere. She supposed it was meant to keep everyone safe and yet she had the sense that her fate was sealed. She could not run to the harbor.

Her chambers were in Maegor’s Holdfast, and she wondered if these chambers had once belonged to her predecessor. But the rooms had been decorated for a lady of her station - the large bed was covered in colourful cushions, a deep purple silk blanket atop the warmer bed sheets. Lavender and sandalwood incense had been burned, reminding her of home briefly.

“Of course you shall be moved after you are wed,” One of the septas explained as Luciya was undressed for a steaming bath in the connecting washroom, “Your lord husband is the Hand of the King.”

Luciya nodded to herself, grateful to be behind a screen. She wrapped a robe around herself as the maids readied the water in a copper tub, adding oils and dried rose petals.

“I can bathe myself.” Luciya said, gently taking the sponge from one of the maids, “Perhaps lay out some of my dresses?”

The maids nodded and left her alone, the room quiet and Luciya exhaled.

She needed a moment alone.

In the steaming water, scented with jasmine - no doubt due to instructions sent by her grandmother, Luciya sat still and looked around her new rooms. They were darker than her rooms in Starfall, felt smaller. Or was that because the sun did not shine as brightly here?

“I can do this.” Luciya murdered to herself, beginning to scrub the dirt from her skin.

She had to be quick, sure that they were already whispering about her dismissal. After scrubbing and rinsing, she called the maids back inside.

They had unpacked one trunk of dresses. She had been given new ones, some in the Dornish style, some in the Westerosi style, in sunset crimsons, red and purples.

She chose a deep purple gown, simple with sheer silk sleeves long sleeves accented with silver at the waist and elbows. She chose her mother's amethyst ring and a simple silver ring to wear on her right hand. Her curls were braided, pinned back, fastened with silver flowers.

She took a deep breath as she was taken to the royal gardens. At the hear of the garden, surrounded by her ladies in the gardens, sat Myriah Martell on a chair.

Myriah, even aged, was still beautiful. Her greyed hair was the biggest sign of ageing but her eyes were sharp. She wore a pale orange veil, secured by a gold tiara, no doubt an assertion that she was a Queen and Martell. Regal in every sense.

“Your Grace.” Luciya curtised.

“Rise and come closer.”

Luciya stood and did so, taking slow steps towards the Queen. She felt all the eyes of her ladies on her.

Myriah took her hands, surprising Luciya, who had been prepared for indifference at best. Her touch was warm and maternal, her lovely dark eyes searching Luciya’s face.

“Your lady mother was a cousin to a cousin and a Martell,” Myriah stated.

“Yes, your Grace,” Luciya replied.

“You have that in face. But you are a Dayne, that is clear. Especially in the eyes.” Myriah gently placed her fingers under her chin and lifted her head, inspecting, “Yes, very Dayne. Beautiful.”

She ordered a chair to be brought for Lucyia, and they all sat down once more, listening to Lady Tyrell playing the harpsichord.

Wine was brought, honeyed Dornish red and food - grapes, red and green, blood red strawberries and cuts of cured meat spiced with black pepper, hazelnuts, sweet cakes of all descriptions, stuffed dates. Clearly, there has been an influence in cuisine by the Martell Queen, which brings some comfort to Luciya. Not much but some.

She slowly chews a honey cake, unable to stomach more and sips wine.

“You find this place colder than Dorne.” Myriah stared, “I did too, at first.”

“Certainly. But it is beautiful.” Luciya said after swallowing. The cake sits heavy in her stomach. She had a feeling the Queen was not only speaking of the weather.

"You will miss many things about home, as any young woman does. It can be frightful to leave all you know. But it is a heavy burden that my son carries.” Myriah continued, “And he requires a wife to carry that burden with him.”

Luciya met the Queen's gaze, still maternal, but there was a firmness in her gaze that reminded her that she was the Queen looking at a woman who would one day replace her.

“The Lady Jena was dear to us all.” Lady Aelinor Penrose commented sharply. She was the wife to Aerys, the second son whom she had been told was more maester than prince.

Luciya nodded silently, solemn. It was a reminder of her place. She was a replacement, an ill fitting piece brought in.

“Well, I look forward to knowing all of you more.” Luciya said evenly.

She was dismissed, taken to her rooms. She throws up the cake and wine in a chamber pot and lies down on her bed.

She was to carry herself as a future Crown Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. And yet, she was already exhausted. Slightly afraid. And she was yet to meet her husband.

Luciya did not remember when she had fallen asleep, exhausted by the travel and the day before. When she awoke, in her new bed, wrapped in all her blankets, she heard the distant bells signalling the beginning of the day.

As she sat up, her maids and Lady Cerenna entered the room, curtseying, “Good morning, my lady.” they all greeted in some way.

“Good morning.” Luciya replied, confused. So, this was not what she was used to. Maids and ladies knocked in Starfall but here, she had no privacy. There was a careful eye on her at all time, by nobility and servant alike.

So Luciya took it in stride, smiling thankfully as they all fussed about her. Lady Cerenna chose her dress today, a deep pink, nearly red gown with few visible embellishments save for the gold chain on her waist.

It was suffocating but Luciya smiled as she looked back at the older lady in her mirror.

She was taken to the Tower of the Hand. It was rather beautiful in its way. The private audience chamber was decorated with Targaryen symbolism, the banners on the wall, large bookshelves with scrolls large books and tomes.

The windows looked toward Blackwater Bay and the Narrow Sea beyond. It was a beautiful view and Luciya wondered if the crown prince took the time to look outside. It was rather lovely. Clarifying. There was so much out there, beyond the shimmering sea.

On the large desk, a large book was open. The writing, she knew, was High Valariyian. It was a beautiful script and though she did not know what the book said, she traced the writing, fascinated.

“I hope you do not mind me calling you here.”

Luciya looked up, startled, at the sound of a smooth male voice.

There he stood. Baelor Targaryen. He did not have the paleness, that otherworldly look that most Targaryens did. His hair was dark, thick and soft-looking even at a distance, streaked faintly with silver. His eyes were mismatched in colour, one purple blue, one brown.

She, of course noticed his entire outfit was black and red, his hand of the king pin clipped to his shoulder, almost like the talons of a dragon on his shoulder.

“My apolgies. I was only curious, Your Grace.” Luciya hurriedly said moving away. She stood in front of the desk and Baelor moved around it and placed a scroll on the shelf.

“That is quite alright.” Baelor said gently, “Do you have a fondness for reading?”

“I do. My cousin Arron always says an entire battle could happen around me and I would not notice for my head were in a book.” She chuckled, “That is not to say I do not notice other things but…” She twisted the ring on her pointer finger.

“You enjoy reading and learning so very much.” Baelor added, as he leaned against his desk, hands clasped, “Forgive me, I wished to get you upon arrival yesterday, but there were matters of state to attend to.”

Luciya shook her head, “That is quite all right. The Queen and her ladies were very hospitable.”

Baelor nodded, pleased, she thinks. She cannot tell. He had the face of a man who was always thinking. A handsome face, but a hard one to read nonetheless.

“I, ah, wanted to meet you. Properly. Away from the court.” Baelor continued, "I persuaded the King that it would be a better idea."

Luciya nodded slowly and silently, unsure of what to think of that. An act of consideration or intimidation? She was not sure yet.

There was a knock at the door and in walked a servant with a tray of tea which they set up at the deep red chairs, a table in between them. He thanked the servant as dismissal and he indicated a seat for Luciya to sit, which she did.

He poured her tea rather than call for a servant. It was a spiced blend, something she had grown up sipping. Luciya thanked him as he gave her the cup of tea.

“It must feel lonely, being away from your home.” Baelor said, sitting down.

She shrugged slightly, hoping she was not so easy to read, “It is what I was prepared for. Many young women are.”

“Indeed. Still, I wish for you to feel at home here.” Baelor said, “This marriage, whilst an arrangment, I hope can be an honest one."

Luciya nodded, rather surprised by him. She had expected coldness, slight resentment perhaps from a widow. She swallowed her tea.

"Thank you, Your Grace." Luciya eventually said, "I, too, would wish for honesty and perhaps a partnership." She offered a small smile, "I know I cannot replace the affection for your late wife, whose loss must still pain you."

Baelor said nothing, twisting a ring on his right hand, watching her.

“I do not wish to be a mere placeholder. I cannot replace the affection you had for your wife, the mother of your sons. But I wish to be respected, that is all. Considered.” Luciya continued.

Baelor nodded, “You have my respect. And my consideration will come better as we learn from each other.”

Luciya measured him, the sincerity in those beautifully mismatched eyes. “Thank you, your Grace.”

“You were not expecting to me to agree with you,” Baelor observed, tilting his head slightly.

“I do not know what I expected, truly.”

“Yet you spoke anyway.”

“I like to try to set terms before entering into any agreement.”

Baelor smiles slightly, “We have that in common. And please, call me Baelor.” He insisted.

“Yes, your gr- Baelor,” Luciya quickly corrected herself, testing his name on her tongue. It suited him, "You may call me Luciya too."

"It is a beautiful name. It suits you well." Baelor stated as a matter of fact, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She wanted to kill those butterflies.

Luciya placed her cup down on the table and stood, as did Baelor, "Thank you for this."

Baelor nodded, "Do not thank me, it is the least I could do. You shall be my wife." Gently, he took her right hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

Nothing but the memory of his mouth on Atsushi’s skin, and his hand on Atsushi’s cock.

Atsushi leaned his weight on his hands, braced on the edges of the sink, and hung his head. He’d never been so horny in his entire life and now that was the only thing he could think about. He didn’t want Akutagawa’s hand anywhere near his dick (lie), he didn’t want Akutagawa’s mouth on his skin (also a lie), and he didn’t want to be anywhere near him at any point when he was like this (absolutely, 100% grade-A certified fresh lie).

The text came through a little after midnight. Atsushi hadn’t been able to sleep, head propped on his arm and scrolling through videos on his phone, and the unexpected message startled him enough that he dropped his phone on his face. It was the first time a text from Akutagawa didn’t come from an unknown number, but instead came from his contact list—and Atsushi stared at it, bewildered.

The message simply gave an address. No salutation, no regards, nothing at all but a single line of address located in Yokohama. Atsushi scratched his hand through his hair and flipped to his contacts—and, sure enough, he now had an “Akutagawa” contact in his address book. He didn’t remember putting that in his phone.

Oh, wait. Akutagawa dropping his phone in his lap like it was discarded refuse. Yeah, that tracked.

Atsushi scooted aside the door to the futon closet. Kyouka was sleeping on her side, and he felt bad creeping around, but shouldn’t have worried because the second he put a foot on the tatami she was sitting upright, wide awake, with sheathed knife in hand.

“It’s me, it’s me,” he said, and Kyouka blinked at him blearily. “I just—” Crap. What was he going to tell her? For wont of an obvious lie he just barreled forward with the truth. “Akutagawa asked me to meet him. For…training.”

Kyouka yawned into her hand. “For training?”

“Yeah. Dazai-san has us doing…a thing. I don’t know why.”

She was clearly suspicious. Atsushi shrugged helplessly, and she started to get to her knees. “I’m coming with you.”

CRAP.

“No, no,” Atsushi said. “You don’t have to come. We’ve been doing this for a while, it’s just usually earlier in the day. It’s all right, and I have my phone with me.”

“I still think I should come,” Kyouka said, sitting on her knees, eyes serious. Then she yawned again, very large, and Atsushi smiled gently at her.

“Kyouka-chan, get back to sleep. I’ll be back before you know it, okay? I’ll try not to wake you.”

After a few more minutes of gentle argument, he finally won, and by the time he tip-toed out of the bathroom fully dressed, she was most of the way to asleep again. Atsushi closed the door quietly behind him, exhaled steam into the cold winter night, and headed out.

======

Atsushi hadn’t bothered to search the address, and once he did, he was really glad he didn’t show the text to Kyouka as proof. He stood, uncertainly, outside the love hotel for a good five minutes before he gave in and texted “I’m here” to Akutagawa’s phone.

He got an immediate response with a room number.

Girding himself for battle, Atsushi went inside.

It wasn’t difficult to locate the room, and he fortunately didn’t see a single other living soul once inside. The clerk, of course, sat behind opaque glass and provided no interaction; and as Atsushi was armed with a room number he just passed completely by and hit the bank of elevators and tried really, really had not to acknowledge he was in a fucking love hotel.

Akutagawa was gleefully fucking with him, and it pissed him off.

He knocked on the door to room 504 and got no immediate response. Concerned, he double-checked the text; he did have the correct room number. He knocked again, still no response, and after a moment’s indecision, tried the knob. The door clicked open, unlocked.

“Akutagawa?” Atsushi asked softly. The lights were dim in the room, he couldn’t tell if he truly had the right room or not. Anger had dissipated into confused wariness. “Are you here?” He closed the door behind him and locked it out of habit, and then took two large steps into the room proper.

A shadow moved in the corner of the room.

“Akuta—?”

He was hit with its full body weight, and Atsushi went down before he could trigger his ability. Ragged fangs sank into his throat, forcing his head back, and Atsushi gasped aloud. The ceiling in the room was mirrored, and he could see what was straddling him, the tiger giving him near-perfect night vision.

It was Akutagawa—he thought.

The creature was very twisted, his trench coat in tatters, skin pallid grey and splotchy, in places looking almost burnt. He couldn’t see Akutagawa’s face, but his ears poked through his patchy, stringy dark hair, pointed sharp and inhuman. Atsushi wanted to struggle, badly, but he couldn’t—he felt weighted down, locked in place, everything getting fuzzier as he grew more and more lightheaded…

“Akutagawa…” Atsushi croaked, white clawing at the edges of his vision, and Akutagawa lifted his head, face twisted into something inhuman, eyes large and red; it was the last thing Atsushi saw before he passed out.

=====

Atsushi woke under the covers of the large bed in the center of the room. He blinked blearily at the mirrored ceiling; at some point he had been undressed to his underwear and tucked in. There was a dark form seated on the edge of the bed, back to him, and he rolled his head to see Akutagawa perched there, legs crossed and idly clicking through channels on the television set.

“I thought vampires didn’t have a reflection,” Atsushi croaked, lips and mouth dry.

Akutagawa tilted his head and looked over his shoulder at Atsushi, and his face was normal. For a split second Atsushi remembered the grotesque mask of a face he was wearing before, but it was gone just that quickly, and he swallowed hard. Or at least, he attempted to, but his throat was so dry he just started coughing instead.

“You’re dehydrated,” Akutagawa said, reaching for the bedstand. He pushed a bottle of water into Atsushi’s hands, and he sat up, draining it quickly, in several large gulps. Akutagawa kept the water coming and he knocked out four before he stopped, breathing hard but now feeling much more normal. Akutagawa clucked at the empty bottles, before depositing them in a bin. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a bus,” Atsushi groaned, and rubbed his face. “I have been hit by a bus before, you know. It’s not the greatest feeling in the world.”

“I’m not surprised,” Akutagawa returned to his seat on the edge of the mattress and studied Atsushi quietly. Atsushi held the half-drunk fifth bottle of water in his hands. “I am surprised you came.”

“I said I would,” Atsushi said, defensively. “I keep my promises.” He crinkled the bottle for a moment. “Are you…okay?”

Akutagawa seemed surprised by the question and looked away. “You shouldn’t ask me that. Worry after yourself, weretiger. I am a lost cause.”

“Well, you didn’t kill me,” Atsushi said. “So, I wouldn’t say that you’re too lost a cause.” He exhaled. “But you do need to eat more often than every two weeks, don’t you?”

“I eat every day. Blood, though…” Akutagawa’s shoulders stiffened.

“You can eat normal food?”

Akutagawa gave him a bemused look. “Did you not encounter me grocery shopping?”

“I thought…actually, I don’t know what I thought.” Atsushi scratched his hand through his hair. “You wander around in daylight, you shop up in mirrors, and you eat people food. Aside from the blood-drinking, how are you a vampire, exactly?”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t look to fiction to inform your reality, weretiger.” Akutagawa sighed and glanced toward the muted television. “I was hoping to scare you off with that display, but it seems you’re not in the least bit frightened of me. You really do have nothing stuffed between your ears.”

Atsushi said, quietly, “it looked like it hurt.”

“Pain is meaningless.” Akutagawa looked back at Atsushi. “I need to feed a few times a week to maintain my normal form. If I fast, I…deteriorate.” He looked at his hands. “And I start to lose all the sense in my head, far quicker than I’d like.”

Atsushi tilted his head and pointed at his neck. “Did you need to feed more, then? You were in pretty rough shape.”

“Idiot,” Akutagawa hissed at him. “I took so much from you, you passed out. I will not be feeding from you again for several days, you must recover first.” He looked at his hands again and then stood. “A lesser man would be my thrall by now, and I don’t understand how you’re not.”

Atsushi blinked wide, violet and golden eyes at him, and Akutagawa scoffed aloud. “I don’t understand any of this, or you, or your perverse desire to be of use to me. Don’t you recall I plan to kill you, weretiger?”

Atsushi placed his hands on his lap. “If you wanted to kill me, I would be dead already. You’ve had quite a few chances.”

Akutagawa whirled on him, knee on the bed, in Atsushi’s face faster than he could blink. He hissed, eyes completely red, sclera black, fangs on full display; and Atsushi didn’t jump. He snarled right back, eyes shifting to gold, mouth full of teeth just as sharp. “I can turn a threat display too,” Atsushi growled right back at him, and they stared off for another minute before Akutagawa pushed off the bed again and stalked away.

Atsushi’s heart was going a million miles an hour, and he’d managed to destroy the sheets under the covers with his claws. He exhaled as he watched Akutagawa stop by the window, staring out at the city at night, arms folded and scowling.

“So, now what?” Atsushi asked him, finally breaking the uneasy silence. “Where do we go from here?”

Akutagawa sighed. He pulled off his tattered coat, dropping it in the chair by the window before he came back and flopped onto the edge of the mattress again, arms folded. Atsushi watched him, a bit wide-eyed at the behavior.

“With the amount of blood I’ve taken, your stamina will be largely shot, so I’m afraid we can’t make full use of the room tonight. But, if you wish, I will let you use my mouth.”

Atsushi stared at him. “What?”

Akutagawa point to his mouth. “Use my mouth.”

“Use your mouth?”

“Yes.”

“For what?”

Akutagawa stared back at him.

They stared at each other, in silence, for a solid minute.

“Weretiger.”

“Yeah?”

Akutagawa opened his mouth as he was considering his next words. He closed it, thought about it some more, and said, finally, “it will be easier, I think, to demonstrate.”

=====

Atsushi’s back was ramrod straight against the headboard, one hand behind him clutching it and the other curled in Akutagawa’s hair. He still wasn’t entirely sure how he got from there to here but at the moment he didn’t really care, his legs spread wide by Akutagawa’s hands, and his face nestled right against Atsushi’s cock.

In fact, Akutagawa’s tongue was doing a circuit around the shaft right now, and the crawling pleasure that was tracing its way up and down his spine was growing in intensity. He tilted his head back, watching the mirrors, seeing Akutagawa laid out on the bed with one of Atsushi’s legs over his shoulder, head bobbing as he mouthed the head of Atsushi’s cock and let it slip further inside. God. God, fuck.

Use his mouth.

Atsushi’s hips wanted to jerk, lift off the bed, do something; but Akutagawa’s elbow over his hip kept him down. He lifted off Atsushi’s cock with a wet pop, taking care to lick him down and up either side before deep-throating him once again. Atsushi moaned, wanting to thrust and being blocked into place and unable to do so.

His mouth was so good. So hot, hotter than his hand by a thousand degrees. He left Atsushi’s cock hanging, drooling, as he kissed Atsushi’s inner thigh, fangs suddenly pressing gentle pinpricks into his soft skin. Two bright red beads of blood rolled down his inner thigh and Akutagawa licked them up and shuddered, then sucked Atsushi’s cock down once more.

It was insanely good. Atsushi’s thoughts were an incoherent mess, he wanted to jam his cock down Akutagawa’s throat and listen to him choke, and he twisted his fingers in Akutagawa’s short hair, trying to remember what words would lead to the desired outcome. His head was getting fuzzy again, in a good way, in a toes-curling, spine-twisting way, and Akutagawa dipped his tongue into the slit where the fluid was drooling from. Atsushi jerked like he’d been hit by a cattle prod.

“Oh, like that, do you?” Akutagawa murmured, voice husky from the abuse his throat was taking, and proceeded to do it again. Atsushi’s cock was leaking fluid at an alarming rate, and Akutagawa lapped it all up like a cat, without a hint of hesitation, before he suddenly wrapped his lips around the head and shifted his arm off Atsushi’s hips.

Atsushi bucked off the bed, felt the head of his cock hit the back of Akutagawa’s throat, and shuddered as he released.

Akutagawa coughed for a bit, the worst wracking coughs from him that Atsushi had heard in a goodly long while; but he wiped out the rest of another bottle of water. “For someone who’s had nearly half their blood drained, you held out much longer than I thought,” Akutagawa said thoughtfully, sitting cross-legged on the rumpled top sheet.

Atsushi had fallen over, flat on his back, and was still having small little aftershocks from his orgasm. “Oh. Use your mouth,” he repeated weakly, “that’s what you meant.”

Akutagawa chuckled dryly and handed him a fresh bottle of water.

There are no words to describe how much you adore Naruto.

Ever since you and him met each other when you were children, you have always loved him with your entire heart. You made sure that he had someone to come home to. You made sure he had balanced meals and helped him with whatever Academy stuff you could as a civilian.

But you both were hiding secrets that you didn’t even know about. How he was a weapon for the village, a power chip in the grand scheme of shinobi politics. How, with a flick of his fingers, entire landscapes would change to follow his command.

And you? You also had a power lying dormant in you. A last, desperate ditch for the village. A sacrifice that would buy them time to run, to protect their weapon. It was woven into your very being, cells riddled with seals.

As Naruto had left the village to train, Tsunade calls you over. As a lowly civilian, this would’ve shocked you, but by being so close with Naruto, his connections in the shinobi world were yours as well.

“You called for me, Hokage-sama?”

Tsunade turns towards you, her hand just barely crushing a file as she moves to sit down at her desk.

“It seems like my sensei has hidden a far bigger secret in this village.”

You stood there, baffled and confused. Yes, you knew about Naruto. When you both had learned about his secret, he was devastated, and you were there to console him. Told him that you would never see him as a monster, and he is Naruto, not the demon fox spirit sealed inside. You didn’t care, because you would love him regardless.

“It seems that you are a fail safe. A last resort of defence for the jinchuriki of the village.”

As Tsunade went on explain how you were a dormant ninja, with powers rivaling the Shodiame Hokage, there was a high pitched ringing in your ears. Seals. Thousands of them. The thrum of them loud now that you were aware. All throughout you. In you.

Nonononononononononono…

Did you love Naruto? Or was it controlled by the seals inside of you? Was the love you felt for him real? Are your own thoughts real?

Did you belong to yourself?

“It also appears,” Tsunade continues, “That the power will kill you due to the strain it will put on your body, as it is not developed.” She sighs, “Therefore, up on the activation of the power, you would die by the time the danger is over.”

why

Your mind was silent. Or too loud, you couldn’t tell. You stared up to the Hokage. Tsunade’s eyes are filled with anger, rage and sadness.

“I was hoping that we would be able to train you, help you harness the power, but according to the notes written here, that will result in immediate death, as a attack if anyone was trying to control you.” Her eyes flash. “It is more likely that we may heal you, but we won’t know what side effects will occur.”

whywhywhywhy

Your heart had already shattered to a million pieces, but it seems like your life wanted to follow. But, you have to push it all aside. You have a duty to Naruto.

You will love him, no matter if it was written into you, or by your own violation. You will always love and protect Naruto. You couldn’t care less about yourself.

“… what would you like me to do, Hokage-sama?”

Because even if you were a civilian, even if you would die, the only thought that echoed in the remnants of your heart was that at least you could finally do something for Naruto.

Tsunade eyes harden, and you know your talking to a military leader of deadly humans, and not a leader of the village anymore.

“Since the anchor of the seal, my sensei has died, we are gonna to have to seal you. It will be like jail, constantly monitored with reapplications of seals by Kakashi until Jiraya returns.”

The dread, the hopelessness, and the anguish that fell upon you brought you to your knees, although you didn’t let a single tear fall.

“I understand, Hokage-sama.”

With a wave of her hand, Kakashi shunshins into the office. With his one eye, he looks at you with sorrow. You are close with Team 7, by always wanting to tag along with Naruto. You might as well be apart of the team.

And as you are led to the gutters of the village, as you are stripped into nothing but your undergarments, as the shackles clamps around your hand and feet, bringing you to your knees, you can only think of him.

Naruto

His name is a tattoo your heart beats into your chest, his face the only thing you can see in your mind. The first tear trickles down your face. Kakashi looks down at you with sorrow, even as his steady hands start the application of the seal around the ground you kneel on.

“Kakashi-sensei?”

He looks down at the ground. You continue.

“I am never going to leave until I have to die, am I?”

You voice cracks on the final words, and Kakashi flinches as if it were a whip. You were barely thirteen.

As the first cold stroke of the ink settles on your lower back, your final wish for Naruto to be able to move on echoes in your mind.

Then, Kakashi’s chakra wraps around you, and all you know is pain.

Part 2