#fic: from sea of flowers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaylaxies · 6 months

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TIDES AND TEMPTATION

PAIRING: siren!sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, angst, mentions of kidnapping, pirates, war, blood, sirens and mer-people, mentions of nicknames, cunnilingus, breeding, unprotected sex, underwater kingdom.

WC: 5.2k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: happiest birthday to my love @celeste-hoon this one’s for youu <3 also hihi, angels! we’ve finally reached the last fic for this year’s kinktober! i hope you guys will like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

The sound of waves crashing against one another, the sudden buzz of urgent chatter and running, and the burn of ropes digging into the flesh of your wrists woke you up from your uncomfortable slumber of unconsciousness.

It was bright, albeit the lack of sunlight as the clouds covered the sky. You blinked once, and twice before realizing exactly where you were, your mind reeling back to what had happened over the past one day—or more. You weren’t aware of how long you had been knocked out for.

You remember going out with your friends at the sea shore, your peace interrupted by the sudden screams, the pain following soon after you saw the group of pirates trying to capture everyone in the vicinity, you weren’t an exception.

Your cries were ignored. Fighting back was of no use as they easily took control, using the rope to tie you up as they carried you into the massive blue coloured ship, your body too tired to keep up, falling limp till you reached here.

You were on the deck, tied up with a lot more people who were just as panicked if not more, yet you couldn’t spot any of your friends. The pirates were in a rush, their swords out and a sweet melody lingering in the air despite the bloodshed filled atmosphere.

You cried out, not sure as to who the pirates were fighting, but it seemed as if everyone was suddenly in a trance, which kept on breaking and emerging again as they attacked the other force.

Suddenly, a guy rushed to where you were tied up, cutting your ropes and pulling you up as you struggled against his grip, tears flowing down your cheeks with the chaos around you, no energy left in you.

The ship wasn’t in control anymore, the waves overpowered the balance, the sweet melody in the background loud enough to put you in a trance, your eyes shifting from the blue of the water to the sea cave which shone bright, embedded with the prettiest set of stones you had ever seen, along with the creatures you didn’t know existed till date.

You weren’t sure what you felt as the ship flipped completely, the screams muffled as you came in contact with the water, your eyes closing as you failed to try to swim, the coldness of water making it harder.

However, you were pulled to the side by someone, your eyes barely open to take in the sight of what looked like a tail, its scales mixed with a palette of blues, dark greens, slightest shades of purple and pink merging together to form a luminescent look.

Your eyes closed shut yet again, and the creature took you deep inside the siren caverns, helping you up on the flat surface of the emerald rock, looking at you with dark, curious eyes.

You were far from the water where the bloodshed had taken place, the pirate crew along with the prisoners long gone, devoured by the mer-people, who once looked like the prettiest entities on earth, now seemed to be no less than demons with their claws out, sharp canines on display as they munched on their new food source.

But not the siren who was with you.

He looked ethereal with the white glow around which illuminated his figure, one strand of his dark hair braided intricately, tiny flowers adorning them as he looked down at your unconscious figure with a slight tilt of his head, holding himself up on the rock, letting his tail rest in the water.

Your wet dress was now clinging to your body, beads of sand on your skin and your breathing uneven, eyes threatening to open again with distress.

He didn’t move when you opened your eyes, which were full of hurt and exhaustion, you couldn’t scream in fear. Instead, you found yourself staring back at him just as curiously, taking in the pretty moles scattered all over his body, his soft glistening pink lips with fangs peeking out and resting on them. You took notice of the dainty jewelry he had adorned, from his necklace to his ear cuffs, from his arm cuff which barely contained his muscles to the gold chain he had around his slender waist, you observed it all.

He was the prettiest creature you had ever come across.

He wondered why he was so fascinated when he was supposed to hate your kind, the kind which destroyed his kingdom.

But not you. You looked lost, scared, as if the humans didn’t show mercy to their own kinds too, he was intrigued, his heart beating faster taking in the soft glow the carven stones reflected upon you.

“Let me go,” your voice came out breathless, body shaking with the cool air around you, caressing your soaked body.

His expression didn’t change, however you could see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes at your plea.

He took a hold of your chin, sensing your fear heightening with his move, “what’s your name?” He asked, voice smooth as if his siren tone was trying to comply you to answer him.

Your voice came out in a whisper as you told him your name, which he repeated after you to get the pronunciation right and you suddenly felt as if your name was the prettiest thing you’d ever heard.

The small moment was ruined the second other sirens came swimming into the cavern, hissing as they saw you but they stopped the second they noticed another siren with you.

“Fuck! Let go of me,” you exasperated, not wanting to become food for the bloodthirsty creatures.

His gaze was stoic all of a sudden as he addressed them, paying your words zero attention, no traces of kindness as his loud voice boomed in the area, “touch her and you die,” he warned everyone, the fear evident in their eyes as they bowed down, swimming back into the depths of the ocean.

“How?” You breathed out, and he turned to look your way again, cupping your cheek, sudden warmth blooming in your body and you were torn, trying to decide if you wanted to hate him or not.

“Open your mouth,” he orders, and you gulp, shaking your head despite knowing that you had nowhere to escape, but also slightly aware of the fact that you felt a pull towards this siren, and it scared you even further. “Don’t be difficult,” he warned.

Slowly, you parted your mouth, observing his next move. He was quick to snap open his heart shaped pendant, taking a white pearl out and placing it on your tongue, the taste buds already delighted at the sweetness the pearl harboured.

“Eat it, it’ll help you breathe in the water,” he said, eyes so dark yet shiny.

“No! What? No, I can’t go in there—” you looked horrified at the idea.

He simply looked at you, “you have nowhere else to go. So, it’s either you follow me, or you become food for the others,” he said, referring to the sirens which you had encountered a few minutes back.

He left you no choice, his gaze sharp as he waited for your answer. With a gulp, you nodded, choosing to follow him as he saved your life, finally intaking the pearl, watching him nod with the slightest upliftment of his lip.

“Come,” he extended his hand for you to take.

“Wait,” you stopped him, “what’s your name?”

“Sunghoon,” he spoke, voice rich as he finally held on to your hand, intertwining your fingers, “and you belong to me now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to react pulling you with him. Panic seeped through you, which was soon replaced by shock as you could easily breathe under the water, as said by Sunghoon, who held on to you tighter, taking you deep inside the water.

You were mesmerized by the schools of fishes around you, coral reefs of all colours decorating the sea. Nothing felt real to you anymore. It was too surreal to be real, especially the siren next to you, who had his eyes set on you.

You didn’t know what was to come.

If someone told you you’d be visiting a royal palace deep inside the sea then you would have laughed in their face.

However, now that you had actually reached such a place, trying to hold in your panic, you weren’t sure how to react, granted that you had pinched yourself a few times to wake up in case it was a dream.

Which wasn’t the case sadly.

The shock was clear on your face when the tailed guards with tridents bowed down looking at Sunghoon. The place was epitome of beauty, decorated with underwater planktons and shells, the merfolks eyed you with curiosity, to which you held on to Sunghoon’s arm tighter.

“Why are we here? Don’t tell me you’re a prince,” you said, still wondering how you got to breathe under the water, also staring at the big shell covered with foam, a few mermaids sitting there, whispering amongst themselves but it was clear that you were the topic of their gossip.

Sunghoon didn’t answer your question, taking you into a big chamber which seemed to be his room, and you stilled, thinking that maybe he did belong to the royal family.

“Jake, come here,” Sunghoon called out, revealing a siren with an elegant, green coloured tail.

He bowed down the second he was summoned in front of Sunghoon, “yes, your majesty?”

“Set up a chamber with no water. It should have the atmosphere similar to that of the land. Also arrange human clothing as per the size of my princess,” he ordered, eyes flickering towards you when he spoke the last part and Jake bowed down, leaving you both alone.

“Y—you’re actually a prince? Oh god, I can’t be staying here—and what do you mean princess?” You rambled, losing your mind, your eyes comically wide at this statement.

It must be a joke, it has to be a joke.

“Shh,” he came closer, trapping you against the wall, “I told you, you belong to me now, princess,” he spoke up in his ever so silky voice, his eyes glowing.

“But—”

“Oh, princess,” he cupped your cheek, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek, “you’re cute if you think you have a choice, there’s no way to go back now, the ship is destroyed.” His voice came out deeper than you had expected, lips brushing against your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin.

“You know this is kidnapping, right?” You tried to argue.

“Not when you want to be here,” he retorted, looking back at you, his pointy nose caressing yours, “you can fight all you want, princess. It won’t change the fact that your heart beats fast whenever I come close to you,” he says, pulling back with a smirk and swimming away, leaving you all alone in his chamber.

You couldn’t move, as if he saw right through you when he mentioned your heartbeat, because no matter how hard you tried, even you couldn’t convince yourself that you weren’t a flustered mess around him.

You didn’t know how they managed to set up a chamber without the water but somehow it happened, and in record time too, which had you sighing with pleasure when your feet finally landed on the floor.

Meanwhile, you were conflicted again, not sure if you’d be okay alone in a room, but at the same time you didn’t wish to sleep with Sunghoon (read: you feared you’d lose control around him) but the thought didn’t bother you for long as you sat down on the big foamy bed they had arranged for you, along with myriads of clothes in all colours and patterns, majority of them consisting of silky dresses, the fabric more watery than water itself.

You half expected Sunghoon to visit you before sleeping, which didn’t happen and you couldn’t deny that it disappointed you, granted you knew no one but him.

Your feelings were all over the place, nothing felt real but you weren’t sure if the reality of being on land would be any better than the comfort you’re seeking being under the water, away from the danger as you remembered that you indeed have someone who’s willing to save you.

Yet you can’t help but want to fight him for being so unnecessarily cocky, then again, he was a prince, and a siren prince at that, you couldn’t blame him for the way he was.

Sleep came easily, especially when you were in the comfort of the foamy bed they had arranged for you while you were clad in the silkiest night slip you found in the grand closet, which again was arranged for you in record time.

You weren’t sure how long you slept, but your body needed the rest, and by the time you woke up, all your little wounds and bruises were gone from the fight yesterday, not to mention how you were surrounded by a bunch of curious mermaids who were sent to take care of you, their tails had turned into legs as they entered your room.

“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” you spoke awkwardly, glad that they weren’t being rude to you, but they were curious about you.

“Does his highness talk to you?”

“How did you guys meet?”

“Prince Sunghoon never brings anyone back to the palace, you must be really special to him.”

All three spoke up, making your eyes go wide, “he doesn’t?” You ask and they shake their heads to confirm the statement.

You feel your cheeks beating up, trying to look elsewhere to calm down. The mermaids were nice, taking you to the royal bath first, also fetching you some human food, surprisingly the most scrumptious one you had ever consumed.

However, they were quick to leave the second Sunghoon arrived at your chamber, his tail too getting converted into long legs, his torso on display but his legs covered with a blue-green silky cloth wrapped around his waist, being the same colour as his tail.

“Slept well, princess?” He asked, approaching where you sat down on your bed.

“Don’t call me that, I won’t ever be your princess,” you breathed out.

“Feisty one, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue, face indifferent as if he was expecting this exact reaction.

He came closer, observing your face where the scratch wound had been previously, he smelled like fresh ocean breeze, the kind that makes you feel alive even on the dullest of your days, and you couldn’t help but clear your throat and look away.

“How do you have legs now?” You asked, deviating your attention, but he continued staring at your face, “don’t you have princely duties to take care of?” You asked, trying to get him to talk, but again, he continued to stare at you, his head tilting slightly as you gulped, not looking into his eyes.

“Taking care of my princess is a part of my duty,” he said as smooth as ever, leaving you speechless yet again.

You didn’t notice the necklace he had in his slender fingers, made up of prettiest shades of little shells. It was delicate, almost magical with how sparkling it looked to the eyes, “got them made from the rarest shells of the kingdom,” he spoke up, inching closer to help you wear it.

His touch was cold, juxtaposing the trail of warmth he left he left behind as he clasped it behind your neck, your eyelids fluttering close at the proximity, a shiver running down your spine as he whispered into your ear, “I found the necklace pretty, but you made it look prettier.”

It was impossible for you to stop thinking about Sunghoon it seemed, even more so when you had the prettiest necklace resting on your clavicle. It was as if the water around you had some sort of magic which made your mind drift back to the certain dark haired prince over and over again.

Maybe it was because you were in his kingdom, or maybe because he was a siren, the creature famous for its manipulative skills. Yet you knew he wasn’t using his siren voice or anything related to that when he talked to you.

Shaking your head, you focused on exploring the palace with your three new friends, the mermaids you had met earlier in the morning. The word pretty would not be enough to describe your surroundings as you observed the tiny pink seahorses moving around in a line at the back gardens of the palace.

“I see how envious everyone is, their stares could actually kill,” one of the mermaids spoke up.

“Why don’t you guys hate me?” You grimaced while asking.

“Because the prince has his eyes set on you and you only—also, we are his cousins so we don’t really like the whole idea of incest,” they explained with soft smiles.

“Oh—” you said out loud before they nudged you to look at the person who was already present in your chamber, none other than your prince.

A sudden wave of giddiness travelled down your body, leaving just as quick when you mentally reminded yourself to not fall for his antics. He was a siren chasing a human girl after all.

“Prince Sunghoon. What do I owe this pleasure for?” You ask, standing in front of his taller frame as your friends leave you in privacy, closing the door behind them as they leave.

He stood with his back facing you, and that was a dangerous sight already with his muscles flexing at every little movement of his.

To prevent this from happening (read: your mind going mush at the sight of him), you moved swiftly and situated yourself in the comfort of your big bed, his eyes observing you carefully, just like always and the action was enough for the corner of his lips to lift up ever so slightly.

“Prince and Princess should sleep together, don’t you think so, pretty?” He asked in his velvety tone.

Each time you try to step back to calm yourself, Sunghoon comes up saying something bizarre, leaving you more disoriented than before.

“W—what are you talking about? We’re not even married yet—”

“Yet. Well, I’m glad to see you being enthusiastic about it,” he mused, harbouring a lopsided grin as he neared you.

Your mouth was open as you tried to display just how against you were of the idea, “I’m not marrying you,” you confirmed.

He rolled his eyes, wrapping his fingers around your ankle, pulling you closer effortlessly, enough for your face to be inches away from him, your legs dangling on either side of him as he stood in between your legs.

“Cute,” he chuckled, taking the authority with less to no effort, his sharp fangs on display as he grabs your neck in a swift moment, the action has you seeing stars even with the lack of pressure on his hold, other hand caressing your bottom lip with his thumb, brushing the same spot over and over again.

“Sunghoon—”

“Y’know what, princess? You remind me of this little creature I came across when I visited your land. She was just like you—hissing and scratching till I got down on my knees and gave her gentle caresses on her back,” he told the story, making you freeze on spot, his voice captivating, “such a sweet kitten she was. You’re the same, so violent despite being a cute little kitten, all you need is a gentle caress—” he caressed your cheek to make a point, “to have you mewling like a kitten.”

You couldn’t stop the little whimper escaping your lips the second he said so, proving his point even further as your cheeks burned with embarrassment? Proximity? His fingers around your neck? Or the way he made you mewl exactly like a cat? You couldn’t decide.

“Sweet dreams, princess.” He smirked, leaving you alone for the night, speechless as ever.

You couldn’t, for the life of you, face Sunghoon after the little stunt he pulled last night and you did everything in your power to avoid him the following day, which he found amusing as he watched you swimming away from a distance, using your pretty legs in the middle of other sirens, the necklace still wrapped around your pretty neck.

Others complained how he didn’t smile much to none, which changed when he found himself smiling with his dimples on display at the sight of his cousin mermaids giving you various sea flowers, tucking them behind your ear, which made them glow. The bioluminescence felt like magic to you as they glowed when you smiled, moving around and discovering the secrets these deep waters held, your eyes meeting Sunghoon’s for a brief second when you realized he’s watching from the balcony of his chambers. Your breath hitched, the sight of his torso never failing to get you flustered as you averted your eyes to focus on something else—anything else.

You couldn’t help but admit that you enjoyed this new life, and that you were grateful to be alive, to be saved by a certain siren who was in your mind twenty four seven, the circadian clock adjusting to your new ways of living.

You watched yourself in the big reflecting surface which served to be the mirror in your room, your skin had a newfound glow and your body looked pretty clad in the blue dress which was lighter than the air, the fabric almost felt like silky fluid.

The noise of shuffling behind you caught your attention, and you simply assumed that it would be Sunghoon who had come to visit you again, which wasn’t the case as you turned around to see an ugly siren with its claws out, reaching out to you with the most gut wrenching scream it could muster.

Your eyes widened, hands covering your ear to save your precious eardrums, crouching down to save yourself.

Maybe you said it too early, maybe this life was just a little something god had given to you before trying to snatch everything away from you, including your life. You waited for the attack, you waited for the trident to pierce your body.

Yet the attack never came.

With your body shaking, you dared to open your eyes, only to find Sunghoon with his eyes pitch black as he held on to the other siren by its neck. His grip was strong, the sound of bone crushing only made you look away in fear, “how dare you—” he spoke up, voice loud and shaking with anger, “—try to hurt my princess?” He didn’t hold back anymore, slamming his head on the floor, blood splattering everywhere, a few drops landing on his face.

Sunghoon didn’t wish to drag it long, especially when he knew that you were terrified, “clean it up,” he ordered Jake, who was quick to oblige his command.

“Princess,” Sunghoon spoke up once you were alone in the chamber, his voice gentle as you looked up at him through tears, noticing that the siren was nowhere to be found, “he’s gone, he won’t be back,” Sunghoon told you.

You stood up shaking, rushing into his arms. Sunghoon was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, the other hand resting on the back of your head, patting you gently to calm you down.

“Hoon,” you whispered, “why did he come after me?” You asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“He wanted the crown, so—so he went after the person I cherished the most,” Sunghoon told you earnestly, trying not to kiss you the second you used the nickname.

“Please don’t lie to me,” your voice came out as a whisper, lower lip jutting out in a pout. You couldn’t resist him anymore.

He cradled your face, his fingertips soft against your skin, providing you with the warmth you had gotten so familiar with over the past few days, maybe it was the way he had protected you since the day he first laid his eyes on you, maybe it was how he never failed to express his emotions when it came to you, speaking whatever came to his mind, maybe it was how his eyes were full of love and a promise of something more.

That’s what made you want to kiss the prettiest creature you had ever met.

His touch was light as the feather, which allowed you to move swiftly as you got on your tippy toes, placing your soft lips against his rosy ones in a quick kiss.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, the tenderness lingering behind on your lips, but that wasn’t enough for him. He bit his lower lip, pulling you closer by the waist, his body pressing against yours as he pulled you into a feverish kiss, the kind that leaves you breathless, his lips slotting against yours in a perfect manner, as if puzzle pieces put together.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathed out the second he separated from the kiss.

“Why? Don’t you want your princess now—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was picking you up with ease, lips on your again, his muscles flexing as he carried you to the bed, getting on top of you, giving you a second to breathe.

It was the way he stared so deeply into your eyes, it had you melting in his arms, “want you,” you admitted, “so much.”

His smile was wide, mesmerizing you to the point you had to lean on your elbow, kissing his dimpled cheek before trailing kisses down his jaw. The peck on his Adam's apple however, was enough to drive him over the edge.

You looked so pretty like this, lips glossy and eyes begging to have more of him, all of him. It was like a tune playing in the background when he dipped down to trail kisses all over your clavicle, sucking love marks all over your previously untouched skin, his fangs digging into your flesh slightly, providing you with the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, your back arching as he got rougher with his approach.

His touch was electrifying as he grabbed the curve of your waist, “you’re my human, all mine,” he mumbled against your skin. If his voice was alluring for you then every inch of you was alluring for him.

Your dress was easy to remove, soon thrown on the ground, exposing your body to Sunghoon, who swears he’d worship you each day. You squeeze his bicep, holding on to him tight, his finesse showing as he takes your tits in his mouth, squeezing the other one when you moaned, no room in between you for any air to pass through.

He continued kissing lower and lower, covering the expanse of your body in a silent prayer. He was claiming you his.

Lifting your legs on his shoulder, he continued peppering kisses all over your lower abdomen, your fingers tugging on his silky roots to get a grip, pretty whines leaving your lips, telling him to stop teasing.

He couldn’t ever deny you, now sucking on your clit, tongue tasting every drop of your arousal, prodding your entrance. The brush of his nose on your clit had you shivering with need, “Hoonie,” you whispered, eyes closing at the unadulterated bliss he provided you with.

He fucked his tongue into your hole, desperate to have your taste all over him, the rings on his fingers juxtaposing the warmth of your body as he held your thighs open, his shoulders providing to be sturdy and strong for your legs.

It was too much, your hands were sweaty, now gripping on the silky sheets as you stared at the watery ceiling, which reflected the lewd image back at you—Prince Sunghoon buried in your cunt, immersed in eating you out, wanting to have every inch of his princess.

Your back arched into him, craving more of him as you felt your high approaching with the spasming of your pussy, your body not being able to handle more of his ministrations, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles, lewd noises all around the room as you finally orgasmed, telling him taste all of you.

“Fuck, you’re my sweet nectar and I’m obsessed,” he muttered, coming up to push his tongue inside your mouth, the kiss deeper than ever as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

You didn’t even notice when he unpinned his cloth from his waist, the delicate chain and ornaments decorating his perfectly sculpted body as you finally saw him—long, thick, and hard for you. Your mind blanked out, it wasn’t gonna fit, but you couldn’t help but whine for more.

“Make me yours,” you whispered, and he pulled you impossibly closer, as if trying to meld his body with yours, your arousal had his lips glistening, his eyes turning dark again.

“You’re so fucking mine,” he spoke in a deep breath, pumping his cock a few times, “all mine,” he pecked the corner of your mouth, chuckling as you chased for more.

And he gave you exactly that, your eager holes taking him in slowly as he pushed himself inside your warm cunt, the walls clenching around, trying to adjust to his length and for a second you forgot that you were being fucked by a siren, his cock too perfect, too big for you.

“Oh god,” you cried out as he pumped himself into you slowly, trying to fit himself into you by each thrust. You were so fucked out already, wanting to kiss Sunghoon every chance you got and you were afraid of how fast you developed feelings for your pretty siren.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good girl,” he praised as you took him in fully, his cock snugly fit inside you, your toes curling with the overwhelming sensation. He grabbed your hips, pistoning into you harder, faster, panting near your ear before keeping his forehead against yours in hopes of mapping out, learning and remembering every expression of yours.

Oh you looked beautiful.

The moonlight coming down from the mirror-like ceiling only casted a glow on you, making you seem even more magical than Sunghoon thought you are and you wanted this moment to last forever, his cock twitching and hitting the deepest spots in you, the spots that had your mind shutting off.

“So—so close,” you whimpered, and he held on to you tighter.

“Let go, princess. Come for me,” he said, kissing your tears of pleasure away as he too rushed to fuck you harder, making sure you felt every inch of him in your core, filling you up as you heard sweet melodies, as if you had reached heaven, you both coming undone together, holding each other with need.

He kissed your temple, caressing your cheek before placing sweet kisses all over, telling you how well you did, before saying something that made you cry out of what you’d call love.

“I used to sit on the rock staring at the moon, my mother told me I’d get my soulmate soon,” he said, looking at you softly, the look in his eyes was enough to confirm that you wanted to stay with him for life.

“And now that I’ve found you, I’m never letting you go, princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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marxy-06 · 8 months

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Favorites Fic Recs 4

was supposed to post this a long time ago but tumblr didn't save...this got a little long, apologies (or you're welcome?)

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OT7

Bon voyage: Into the sea (@yoongsisbae)

Thank you to all of the wonderful writers, ily <3

#bts namjoon #bts x reader #fanfic #fanfic rec #bts yoongi #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts jhope #run bts #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts jungkook #bts jung hoseok #bts jin #bts jimin #bts taehyung

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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hi can i get a percy x daughter of persephone fic where they have been best friend since before camp and are in love with each other and finally confess. p.s. love ur writing

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Lotuses, Water Lilies, And All These Lovely Things

content: percy jackson x daughter of persephone! reader fic warning: none???? i don't believe???? author's note: you wanna know what's crazy???? i was fighting for my life to write this and then i put on hozier and it just...wrote itself??? wtf???? what is that man doing to me???? it was actually kinda scary wtf???

look, percy didn't want to a be a half blood. but, he especially didn't want drag his best friend down with him. she was the only one person, other than his mom, who managed to stick around for so long. she bounced schools with him, mostly because she got grouped in with whatever problems percy managed to cause. he felt so much guilt about it, but she'd just wave him off, saying she would have followed him either way.

he couldn't remember when y/n came into his life, it just felt like she'd always been there. they had things they could bond over; she was raised by a single dad and percy was just raised by his mom. she struggled in school, almost nearly as bad as he did. oh, and they both had godly parents.

percy and y/n had been avid summer campers at camp half blood for nearly three years at this point and not much had changed between them. sure, percy had discovered he could control tons and tons of water and y/n's green thumb increased immensely but they were still just each other's best friend.

just best friends. that's it. that's all they're ever be.

at least, that's what you told yourself, late at night, inside your lonely cabin. persephone didn't have many children, as she had grown fond of hades over the years and they'd been attending godly couple's therapy for a few millennia to sort out their issues. you'd purely been an accident between your mother and your father, a florist with an affliction for using fruit in his arragnments. persephone had a fling with him, producing you. strangely enough, hades had no ill will towards you, he even offered for you to stay in the Underworld with your mother during the winter and fall seasons. you'd told him you'd think about it, and to your surprise, you actually had been thinking about it.

while it sucks finding out you were never intended to be born (loose term here, seeing as you kinda just plopped out of a flower), but its better than the alternative, being born for a purpose...like percy. you'd always felt bad for the boy, forced to live under constant expectations of being something great or nothing at all. you didn't know how he did it.

which is why, at every opportunity, you'd bring percy away from the hassle of camp and towards the woods, bobbing and weaving through the trees until you stumbled upon your favorite spot in all of camp. far in the reaches of the forest, a pond sat. it overflowed with life, the monsters purposefully put in camp basically avoiding it. water lilies and lotuses grew in abundance, nearly covering the whole lake. clearly someone had discovered it before the two demigods, a shabby dock put there (clearly not the work of a child of hephaestus). you and percy would just hang out, listening to the sound of the babbling creek and the chirping of the birds. no words needed to be shared, which is why you were certain you loved percy. he made just being...easiler. there was no pressure with the son of the sea god.

"is a hotdog a sandwhich?" percy questioned, breaking the silence, causing you to giggle, basically rolling around in the soft grass. percy looked over with a cheeky smile, his eyes catching on how the grass seemed to chase after you and brush your skin. he never thought he'd be jealous of grass, yet here he was. he wanted it to be his skin that brushed against you, not some flimsy, photosynthesizing, piece of shi-

"hmmm. techinally, yes but my heart says no. pineapple on pizzas? yay or nah?" you shot back and percy shakes his head, trying not to get lost in thoughts of your skin, your skin on his skin with nothing much between them-

"the answer if obviously yes."

"that better be a joke, jackson."

"if you think pineapple doesn't deserve to be on pizza, you are not the person i thought you were," percy mocked back, squinting a glare at the girl, who was struggling to fight her smile down.

"Looks like we can't be best friends anymore," you dramatically reply, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead and pretending to fall back into the grass, which greedily reached up to catch up and gently lay you down on itself.

"shame," percy muttered back, pushing up with one of his elbows and looking over at her, his smile slowly slipping off and being replaced by a more serious look. you raised a questioning brow at him, but your smile was slowly slipping as well.

"what's going on in your head, sailor?"

"we can't be friends anymore," percy replied, instantly, and partnered with his serious face, didn't land the way he thought it would. you were instantly reeling, pulling away from the boy with a hurt look. the green grass turned from a vibrant shade to a depressive green and the water lilies began to drown, dragged down by there own roots.

"wait, wait, that came out wrong-"

"how the hades else should that have come out?" you bit out, glaring over at the boy and tucking in on yourself.

"no, no, y/n, i just- i meant- ugh, this is going terribly," percy groaned, shoving his head into his hands as the grass swiped out at his ankles, trying to give him paper cuts. it all stopped though as you set a hand against percy's wrist, pulling it away from his face and forcing his eyes to glance up at your patient face.

"try again," you offer, nodding your head gently as you rub your fingers over his calmingly

"you sure?"

"i promise you, it can't get any worse than that."

"rude," percy huffed, laughing with the girl for a moment before taking a calming breath.

"i mean it, y/n, we can't just be friends anymore."

"man, you love to prove me wrong, don't you?"

"hear me out. friends shouldn't look at each other the way i look at you. friends shouldn't think about each other as much as i think about you. friends really shouldn't be willing to put their whole lives on hold because one of them wanted to get lost in the woods. we can't be friends anymore because i can't go another moment longer just being your friend when i know i want more," percy ranted, getting lost in his thoughts, his hands moving about nervously and his eyes refusing to meet yours, no matter how hard you tried.

"percy-"

"and i know i'm putting all these years in danger-"

"percy-"

"but if i went another second without telling you, i think-"

"percy!" you all but shout, giggles following as percy physically jolted as though you hit him. he turned to you with wide eyes and a tilted head.

"yes?"

"just shut up and kiss me."

"wha-"

before percy could continue to yap, you jolted forwards, cupping his face and bring his lips to yours. it took percy less than a millisecond to comprehend what was happening and for him to response. he pulled your body closer to his, desperate to use all of his senses during this kiss, in hopes to lock it in even the deepest parts of his ADHD riddled mind.

not that either of you noticed, but the water lilies returned from under the water, bobbing as though they had been held down there against their will. then they began to multiply, the water lilies and lotuses nearly bursting out of the pond with how many of them there were. the pond, which never had waves, was swishing as swirling like a hurricane was wrecking havoc on it and it alone. a foam was building against the bank and riptides could just be seen swirling under the surface.

and then you two parted and the pond settled once more, like nothing had happened. you two shared a soft smile, one of secrecy and exuberance. then, like nothing had happened, you both cuddled back up with the grass, eyes darting up to the sky and silence settling back over the pair.

though, this time, their hands were firmly locked together and the grass was softly licking at both of their hands, intertwining itself to mimic their fingers and hearts.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

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Snail Masterlist

Hello and welcome, I'm Snail!

I write mainly "x reader" for the One-Piece fandom, all catalogued below the cut. I enjoy writing in my free time, forever chasing the green leaf of lettuce dangling in front of my eyes. I hope you enjoy your time on this page. It is a pleasure carving out worlds that you get to be placed in the middle of. Love you 🖤

Ao3: Archive of our Own link, if you prefer reading on that platform.

WIP List: My current works in progress.

Request: Guidelines for asking for a particular craving to be written for you.

Fic Gift Swapping: I write for you, you write for me. It's a win-win.

Pollen Masterlist: NSFW for multitude of characters for the pollen-trope.

Ko-Fi: If you feel so inclined to support me as I keep creating works, this is a link to enable that should you so desire.

Fic Inspo: mood boards, clips and prompts for all to use.

Glimpses: parts of my life I share.

Fic Recommendations: a collection of works I find myself returning to, written by some beautiful authors.

"Straw Hats and Beyond"

Monkey D. Luffy:

Bachata (Dance Series) (one-shot)

Gyrating, thrusting, swaying and grinding. Where did the straw-hat captain learn to dance in this way? The crew, holding many a whispered conversation regarding the captain's sultry movements, finally is approached head-on by the quartermaster of the Going Merry. Flushed cheeks, gasped breaths and soft smiles ensue as the captain aims to teach her a few of his moves.

Run Away With Me (one-shot)

After being left after a night of passion by her marine lover, sorrow eclipsed the hardening heart of the owner of the library. The librarian, after swearing off sea-baring men, is physically swept off her feet by a mischievous, straw-hat wearing captain who woos her with his undivided support of her dreams of romance.

Australian Luffy (HC Drabbles)

Just some silly dialogue with Aussie slang from Monkey D "Loz"

Ravenous (NSFW one-shot)

Luffy is hungry, and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. He doesn’t care where it happens, how it happens, or what exactly happens - all he cares about is the who and when. The who is you, and the when is right now and until his hunger is fully satisfied.

Roronoa Zoro:

Blade Song(Dance Series) (one-shot)

The Straw-Hat pirate crew finds themselves amongst a fire-side, sea-front celebration. Swaying, gyrating and twirling occurs with all but one of the crew. The swordsman, never truly learning how to dance in such a way, regrets his miseducation as soon as he sees the object of his pining dancing within the arms of the blonde chef.

Flowers (one-shot)

Men are known to only receive flowers once in their lifetimes, and they are not even able to see them. The Straw-Hat botanist desires to rectify this for one member of the Straw-Hat pirates, the tri-sword wielding First Mate.

Gua-Sha (one-shot)

Slightly fixated by the dragging of the smooth rock against his crewmen's cheeks and jaw, Zoro immediately pipes up and welcomes the opportunity to have his face massaged to relieve any built up tension and pressure behind it. Pining always from afar, Zoro hopes this small moment would bring the two closer together.

Something Like That (request) (one-shot)

A traveler finds themselves accidentally crashing an exclusive event at Baratie, celebrating a foreign holiday with unusual customs. Pulling you away from your evening meal, your eyes met with the hazelnut gaze of a green-haired swordsman. A sprig of emerald leaves, pearls of flowers and a ribbon hung above your heads - what is this? why is he leaning down to press his lips atop your own?

You Deserve Better (Pollen!One-Shot NSFW)

Zoro has inhaled pollen while lost and away from his crew. His crew return from a day of celebration and tease him for is senseless navigational skills. But you notice something's wrong with him. He's hot. So, so hot. And he needs your help to combat his illness. You want to help him so badly, why won't he let you get Chopper? And why was he holding you like that?

Blackleg Sanji:

Bar Shift (4/4 Series)

An all-rounder, front of house manager finally acquires the first day off she's had in a very long time. Sanji, the ever faithful "work-husband" makes her breakfast just in time for Patty to break the news to her that her peaceful day off is to come to an end. Covering the bar shift for one of her staff members, shenanigans and mutual pining ensues.

Waltz (Dance Series) (one-shot)

The chief negotiator and relations expert of the Straw-Hat pirates attempts to teach her captain how to perform a waltz to woo the upper class in a formal setting. She finds joy in movement, but Luffy himself was found to be truly incapable of performing the dance to an adequate level. At lunch, she notices how Sanji holds himself; his posture strong and rigid as he effortlessly glides around the table. She asks him to dance, and he truly surprises her.

3, 2, 1 (request) (3/3 Series)

Sanji notices some interesting etchings against the Going Merry's Chronicler's Journal. Questioning her, she informs him the 'x's and numbers are indicating his amount of cigarette breaks per day and the duration they are taken. Brainstorming ideas on how to achieve the same rush of adrenaline, endorphins and breath control in a healthier way than nicatine addiction; the chronicler, in her genius, suggests they share kisses and bold embraces for the duration of his many breaks: all kept under the strict limit of the egg-shaped timer.

"Someone. Someone Help Me" (NSFW Pollen!Drabble)

"Thank You" (NSFW Pollen!One-Shot)

Sanji has inhaled pollen. There is nobody around to help him and he is a desperate, pleading, subby mess.

Your Flirty Chef (one-shot)

Sanji has been working hard lately, your flirty chef no longer as present as you’d like him to be. You both have some unspoken flirtation between you, hopefully something to shatter by moulding him beneath the touch of your hands.

Sanji x Reader x Zoro:

Eyes Meeting (NSFW part 1)

Lips Brushing (NSFW part 2)

Sanji is in a relationship with the ships chronicler. Zoro accidentally stumbles across them engaging together in intimacy. As soon as his eyes meet with the chronicler's, he is enchanted by their beauty in their bliss.

Koby:

To the ends of the earth (one-shot)

The newest recruits taken under the wing of Vice-Admiral Garp are desperately required of breaking in their training. Leaving them in the care of a young lieutenant, Koby begins to develop a crush on his superior as he pushes his body under her command to perform to the best of his abilities.

Téir Abhaile Riú (3/3 Series)

The mighty Marine vessel Vice-Admiral Garp captains was in dire need of repair. Docking against the peer of a small country town, the Marines are welcomed to the shore by an impromptu performance by the local town celebrity band: the 'Merry Mellifluous Quint'. One of the five members catches the eye and attention of the fast-learning, pink haired cadet who in term becomes immediately smitten by the attention she receives from him.

It's All Okay (NSFW One-Shot)

When submissive Koby gives in to his dominant craving, and all he's met with is support, praise and affirmation in your arms.

Trafalgar D Water Law:

Law Wants You (NSFW Drabble)

Trafalga Law wants you. He wants all of you.

Don't Be So Shy (NSFW Drabble)

Trafalga Law enjoys comforting a shy reader while they take control.

You're The Cure (NSFW Pollen!one-shot)

Law bought you a pretty flower from a port, wanting to impress you with it, and perhaps use it as a courting gift should you want him. As the Polar Tang's Herbalist, you know there is more to this flower than meets the eye. Trafalgar Law got more than what he bargained for with this little gift.

That Thing I Like (One-Shot)

You are ships counselor to the Polar Tang. For the past four days, you had been called into Law’s office over the Den-Den transponder speakers. The crew assumes you two had began a relationship, but what actually occurs is far more intimate than any romantic encounter.

Eustass Kid:

Shameless (NSFW Series 3/3)

You have a type, one that has been forcefully revealed by your crewmen's incessant nagging. After being ordered to return to your workshop to receive further instruction, you become fully aware of why you have been hidden away from meeting with the captain of the Victoria Punk. He was exactly your type.

"Good Boy" (one shot)

Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.

Restrained (NSFW one-shot)

Eustass Kid didn't know what possessed him to allow his lover to restrain him against his Captains' chair. But yet, here he is: stuck and loving it.

Cellist Kid (NSFW drabble)

Your academic rival and you do not get along. You find his boorish intensity revolting, and he finds your attitude standoffish. As your conductor decides to pair you together to practice, tempers flare and passion ignites.

Massacre Soldier Killer:

Will You Let Me? (NSFW Pollen!one-shot)

Your crew was docked at a port, exploring a new land while you requested to remain behind. Enjoying being without the unruly bunch, your momentary calm was disrupted by the staggering step of your superior. Coughs, grunts and stuttering over his words: your concern grew more severe as you offered to help him through it.

Soul King Brook:

Parts You Left Behind (one-shot)

You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.

Multiples:

Get Well Soon (Drabble one-shot)

You're sick, and they do their best to support you through it. Zoro, Sanji, Mihawk

Mistletoe (one-shot) (Straw-Hat holiday special)

The botanist aboard the Going Merry shares a cultural tradition with her crew; introducing them and reeducating them on the importance of mistletoe and the mischievousness of her playful lips. Every single member receives a kiss from the botanist; all welcome to her sharing her culture with them.

The Selkie and the Sailor: Mini Fic Drabble (One-Shot)

A mythical creature has rescued the captain of the straw-hat pirates from drowning in the sea. As her eyes meet with the crew, she is immediately taken with one of the sailors: Zoro, Sanji, Luffy

Kiss their cheek (Drabble one-shot)

It was a simple reaction, an impulse you felt organic and out of your control. Their cheek was right there, and the swell in your chest and spike of adrenaline prompted you to lunge forward and capture their cheek beneath your lips. How do they react to such a soft touch? Do they shy away, or do they respond in kind? Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Law, Kid

Recovery (one-shot)

You are in a recovery cot in a hospital willing to accommodate you, resting as your body heals from your latest battle. Expecting to recover alone, you are pleasantly surprised to find yourself within the company of the person you craved the most.

Zoro, Sanji

Please, I'll be good (one-shot)

After rescuing you in the heat of battle, he can no longer contain his desires for you. He was so good. He can keep being good if it means you'll keep kissing him.

Koby, Sanji, Corazon, Sabo, Buggy, Shachi, Ace, Penguin

Last One Laughing (One-Shot)

The Heart-Pirate crew were bent on getting their Captain to smile, no matter the cost. Swapping jokes after mealtime, you all continued to check over your shoulder to see if you managed to break the upturned curve into Law's face.

Platonic Heart-Pirates x reader

"Can You Buy Me Supplies?" (Dialogue)

How the OP characters react to you asking them to purchase you sanitary items for your menstruation period. One sentence dialogue.

Robin, Franky, Chopper, Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Nami, Usopp, Brook, Kid, Killer, Law, Mihawk, Crocodile, Buggy, Shanks, Beckman, Doflamingo, Corazon.

How They Kiss (drabble)

Four different kisses with all of your favourites. Where would you place them in these categories?

Hallmark Piggyback (drabble)

Short piggyback on @indydonuts post about OP characters in a hallmark movie. Drabble is for Law x reader x Mihawk - amnesia trope

"A little bit older"

Buggy D. Clown:

You Kissed the Clown? (15/15 Series)

An upper-class tinkerer finds herself amongst the crew of the Staw-Hat pirates. Falling within the blast of a giant flash of red smoke and captured with her crew in the claws of the Buggy Pirates; she is confronted by her flight, fight and freeze response. Immediately, she finds another way of distracting the infamous clown-captain: a passionate and disarming kiss. As time and distance fall between them, feelings of romance, infatuation, fascination and longing cling to the clown and the tinkerer in each other's absence. How could they feel so deeply for each other; they only shared one single kiss?

Happy Birthday, Pumpkin (one-shot)

Buggy longs to kiss you but always shies away in case his affection is not reciprocated. Finally, an opportunity presents itself for a consequence-free kiss and he can barely hold himself back in anticipation. Happy birthday!

I Can't Do This Without You (one-shot)(smut)

Buggy attempted to use some unusual, waxy pollen to form into a "buggy-ball". He was an idiot. He can't manage the consequences without his loyal and ever faithful crewmate to help him out.

A Small Kindness (Smut One-Shot)

A blue-haired man with a round red nose is down on his luck. He's lost everything, not a single berry to his name after being defeated again by the straw-hat crew. A small kindness from a stranger propels him to get back on his feet. How could he repay you? Surely you needed something in return.

Headcanons & Drabbles:

Soft-Dom Buggy Bratty Buggy Cross-Guild Interrogation The Clown Apologises

Buggy x Reader x Mihawk:

Swing, Sway, Shag, Smimmy (Buggy x Reader x Mihawk) (4/4)

Buggy is infatuated with his prized acrobat. He issues a dance night-off for his pirate crew, choosing to "make a move" in the hopes of charming his beautiful acrobat under the hawk-like gaze of his guest of honour. Unbeknownst to Buggy, the feeling of infatuation is mutual regarding the acrobat. Can they learn to 'play nice' to woo the acrobat? Yes, yes they can.

Dracule Mihawk:

The Apprentice (6/7 Series)

Mihawk is a bitchy boss, the apprentice is his bratty underling. Professionalism, sword-mastery and affiliation for wine consumption drives their relationship. Mihawk pushed his apprentice a little too far, prompting her to submit a formal resignation effective immediately. Calling her bluff, he attempts to chaperone her towards a cellar door to begin an afternoon of wine-tasting, only to find absence at his side as his apprentice simply walked away from him. And he was angry about it. Ongoing series.

You Should Be Sad (Completed Series):

Upon rising to the title of Warlord and Worlds-Greatest-Swordsman, Dracule Mihawk began to neglect his fiancé and her desires. Unable to provide her with the one thing she truly longed for, he remained apathetic as she broke from their lengthy courtship. A decade later, and many a bottle of brandy relinquished, he drifts to Baratie in hopes of drowning away the memory of her: only to have his hopes shattered as the hired band begins to play with his ex-fiancé singing her vengeance at him.

Let Me Take Care of You (one-shot)

The personal assistant to Dracule Mihawk notices he is not quite acting himself: a small wince as he reaches for his breakfast wine glass, a grimace as he draws it to his lips and the narrowing of his eyes as he begins to slouch. Luckily for the both of them, the assistant has a resume of many a skill: remedial massage being the key element provided to the broody warlord. He reluctantly accepts their touch, longing for the burden to be released from his shoulders.

El Tango de Mihawk (one-shot)

A talented thief manages to obtain an invite to the marine ball and decides to utilize it as a great opportunity to steal from the wealthiest members of the world government. Mihawk immediately recognizes them and decides to toy with their scheming, tango dancing ensues.

The Marine's Mistake (request) (one-shot)

Something horrible occurred to rid the warlord of his signature facial hair. Cadets had gathered and began whispering in hushed tones as Garp held a seated meeting with the warlord at a table in a run of the mill tavern. A new transfer does not recognize the sleek cheeks of the handsome gentlemen and immediately decides to approach to flirtatiously engage him over a drink or two. Mihawk is amused.

My Love Mine All Mine (request) (one-shot)

Mihawk returns to his castle in kuraigana nine days after he was due to return. He finds his lover sleeping in his bed, face falling to rest atop his pillow. Soft drabble, pining, longing.

Hanahaki: The Hawk and the Fledgling (request) (one-shot) Part 2

Mihawk notices his Fledgling, an apprentice he took under his wing, has become lazy in their training. Upon one final vocal reprimand, they collapse; sputtering a cocktail of saliva, blood and... petals? Is that petals in their hand? Surely not.

The Spear and the Sword (request) (one shot)

Drabble Part 2

Mihawk is required by Vice-Admiral Garp to obliterate an approaching armada of barbaric pillagers from their attack on a marine base. As this army was not enough for him to handle alone, Garp calls in another warlord, a ferocious warrior-woman armed with a spear, to aid in his ability to complete this task with as much succession as possible with as little damage done to the defenseless base. Both begin their armed ascension, showcasing their abilities in contest to see how many troops they best by the end of battle, against how many injuries they themselves acquire in the thralls of combat.

Little Sparrow (one-shot: drabble)

Mihawk has been up with your daughter, soothing her as she experiences her leap weeks. You spend some moments with your husband as he holds her in his arms.

Sapsorrow: (8/10 Series)

The two wards of Dracule Mihawk and his green-haired apprentice stumble across a large collection of treasure in one of the large and ornate wings of Castle Kuraigana. The central object in the room is a embroidered pillow, a small circlet of intricately carved gold lay in the middle.

The three of them begin fiddling with it, it becomes stuck on the green-haired swordsman's finger. A struggle occurs, the ring slips from his finger and a large bell-like tinkle rings against the marble floor. Perona frantically tells the Ward to get it before it's noticed. She stoops, finds the ring and slips it on for safekeeping.

Mihawk, stumbling across the three of them, accuses them of toying with the object. His eyes widen as his focus shifts to the ring fitting perfectly on the appropriate finger of his ward.

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it."

Macule Drihawk (drabble)

When Dracule Mihawk drinks, he becomes an entirely different person. That person's name is Macule Drihawk.

Red Haired Shanks:

Dancando Lambada (one-shot)

After your ship crashed just off the coast line of your hometown, your friend: the bride, is left without a Captain to perform her ceremony to unite her with her beau. Fortunately for you, you see a ship coming in off the coastline. Will their captain help you in exchange for a night of good food, fine drink and sensual dancing?

Remember Me (one-shot)

Ten years since the love of his life was claimed by the sea, Shanks finds himself celebrating her memory with many a drink in a fishing village. Spluttering over his amber ale, Benn Beckman pales in freight at the sight of a woman drinking merrily at the bar. But it couldn't be her, she was lost to him.

Where is my bride (Sapsorrow Spin Off Drabble)

Once lost, again found: Shanks has accidentally bcome lockd into a cruel plot to have him marry a woman he has never seen nor heart of. The timer is ticking, the claws of the spectre of a woman scorned tethered to him and awaiting to claim his soul should he fail. He has seven days to wed. But where are you?

Two More Times (one-shot NSFW)

A meet up with a beautiful Captain has you feeling unworthy of being by Shanks' side as his partner. Shanks does not like being ignored - he wants to showcase his pretty girl sat on his knee. He reminds you of your importance to him, while punishing you for behaving like a brat. His brat.

Drabbles & Headcanons:

Shanks Likes to Dance HC Drabble

Sir Crocodile:

My Favorite (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Sir Crocodile has founded a league of highly trained assassins named "The Choirs" - all coded after the nine choirs of angelic influences. You are his favorite: his prized "Seraphim" who's ferocious brutality is only outmatched by your incredible beauty. Not truly knowing if your affection is all an act to continue being paid a wage in berry, he has not made a move of his own aside from calling upon you to sit on his knee of an evening, and have you utter praises into his ear. It is only when the two other members of the Cross-Guild begin flirting does he find his limit being tested. Will he bend, or will he break?

Sands of Time: Intentions of Series

Sir Crocodile thought he was safe from the intentions of the haunting Sapsorrow Queen. His soul has been laid claim, his time is running out. How can he have a stranger fall in love with his within the year? Would she truly take his sould should he fail?

When We Wake (one-shot)

Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

The Duality of Sir Crocodile (NSFW drabble)

The duality of a dominating gentleman. Spoiling and endearing, encumbering and brutal.

Benn Beckman:

When You Had The Chance (one-shot)

Serving as first mate to the Buggy-Pirates, it was your job to keep your captain grounded and uplifted. When tempers flared, he decided to confront his childhood rival once and for all - pulling out all the stops to finally lay their feud to rest. One of them would be leaving with their life, the other fallen at their feet. Instead of stifling his fury, you decided to elevate your captain’s wrath: seeking vengeance of your own against the man who once cast you aside after you confessed your feelings for him. Crew against crew, Captain against Captain, First-Mate against First-Mate - will you win, or lie at the mercy of the man you once loved.

"Mister Beckman" (one-shot)

The first mate of the Red-Hair pirates is attempting to relax and enjoy his evening with you, but is rudely interrupted by Shanks' tinkering and clanging within the Captain's quarters.

Kind And Gentle (One-Shot)

Your shoulders and back ached with a pain you had attempted to cast aside as you went about your duties. The ache turned excruciating, your focus now being taken hostage between the gripping pain. Fortunately, the grip of two firm hands found your body and eased you through the torment.

You shot a baby? (Dialogue)

Part 2 (one-shot)

Benn Beckman shot Eustass Kid's arm off. You are not happy about it.

Donquixote Rosinante:

Despiértame mi Corazon (Dance Series) (Gift One-Shot)

You have been on the run from Donquixote Doflamingo, sheltering and caring for a young, sick child. Your emotions catch up with you as you process the change your life has led you to. You’ve left it all: family, career, friends - all to support Rosinante in his quest to cure the boy. Upon seeing you in this state, your Corazon will do anything to see you smile again.

Donquixote Rosinante's Journey with Modern Slang (crack dialogue)

Mild background context: Law's skills as a doctor saved a person with the devil-fruit with the ability grant a single wish. Law used that wish to bring back Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante as he was: lying in the snow and unresponsive. He wanted the chance to use what he's learnt to save him, and save him he does. Both now in their 20s, Rosi is adjusting and attempting to learn the current slang to relate to his grown son.

Rosinante's Trip Down Under (one-shot)

Modern AU, Rosinante visiting your hometown in Queensland Australia. He is overwhelmed by the cultural differences, but loves to learn the slang.

Donquixote Doflamingo:

Pretty Red Ribbon (one-shot)

Bogard:

After your birthday was ruined last year at the hands of a certain pink-feather-donning, glasses-wearing gentleman who you love to hate, your fellow warlord, Sir Crocodile, gives you a little gift you did not expect to darken your doorstep.

Play Stupid Games Win Stupid Prizes (NSFW One-Shot)

Doffy is attempting to gain the upper hand against you. He's longed for you, yearned for you - in his own unique way. Considering you never give in to his flirtatious advances, he takes matters into his own hands and attempts to spike your drink. The problem? Your quick wit and nimble fingers switch whisky glasses with him, causing unforeseen problems that he has no cure for…

The Break is Never Easy (Dance Series) (request) (one-shot)

You were invited as an artist to showcase your work at the bi-anual ball thrown for the marines. A decade has passed between you and your severance from your ex-fiance, old flames reigniting as tension builds throughout the night.

Misc Drabbles:

You're Angry at the Tall Men: Drabble (One-Shot)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him. Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo.

An Affectionate Embrace: Drabble (One-Shot)

Forehead Kisses (short drabble)

You're being a brat because they're neglecting you. Prepare to be greeted with the forehead kiss you crave from them.

Zoro, Crocodile, Kid, Killer, Beckman, Mihawk

Interrogation (crack dialogue)

Cross-Guild crack dialogue x reader.

"A little bit bolder"

Chef Zeff:

Honey Glazed (one-shot)

After completing the closing shift of chaotic energy aboard Baratie, conversations turn into flirtations as the chef's hold a completely hypothetical conversation regarding how to adequately prepare and cook-with human. The front of house manager offers her body to be the central focus for the fixation of the chef's unhinged thoughts. Zeff does not shy away from a flirtatious challenge.

Monkey D Garp:

Bonnie Lass: Part 1, Part 2(NSFW) (2/2 Series)

As the assistant to one of the warlords of the seas, it is your task to man the small den-den-mushi earpiece assigned to Mihawk: managing his assignments, scribing the notes of importance. As the receiver drones on, you answer the call and are greeted to the familiar brogue of the Vice-Admiral you had not yet met face to face.

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lunarluvbot · 3 months

Text

saturday sun

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

pairing : percy jackson x fem!reader

summary : a little surprise percy springs on you turns out to be one of the best afternoons at camp. or maybe that's just because you're with him?

requested : yes / no

willow's whispers : first pjo writing cause everything i see is for luke so if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself !! also im pretty sure this can be read for any godly parent. based on the song saturday sun by vance joy. I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING SO YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO JUDGE HOW BAD OR SHORT IT IS. I'm building up for my big fics.

warnings : literally nothing this is the most boring fic ever

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Where are we going?" You laughed, blindly following Percy as he helped you over a fallen log.

"Oh, just somewhere you'll love," He said, and winked. "At least I hope you do. Anyways, c'mon!"

The pair of you marched through the woods of the camp, laughing, talking, teasing, and enjoying moments of silence. The sun blinked lazily between branches of giant pine trees as if Apollo was comfortably stretching out on his throne.

"Here, stop here." Percy turned to you and gave you that smile that made you fall in love a little more every time you saw it. If that was even possible. "There's a pathway over here, be careful 'cause there's a lotta rocks over here."

You followed him once again, down a narrow sloping hill and arrived on a shoreline. A small oasis even. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years, moss grew over everything, the grass was bright and stood tall as if no one's footsteps had ever crushed them down yet. Waves gently lapped the rocks and few shells scattered across the ground.

"Wow," You breathed, almost as if your normal volume would disturb this angelic peace. "When did you find this, Perce?"

Percy, who was flattening the weeds to sit on, looked up. "Huh? Oh, two days ago. During capture the flag. Then I came back yesterday to make sure some monster didn't live here and now I'm showing it to you," He finished setting up his bed that would make any Demeter kid cringe. "C'mere," Percy motioned for you to lay next to him.

You smiled and made your way over to him, easing yourself down on his patch of grass. The two of you were on your stomachs, watching the water swirl into memorizing, glittering, patterns. A sweet silence filled the air.

But the water wasn't what Percy was interested in. He just kept his eyes on you, admiring the way your face lit up when you heard your favorite bird call. The way your eyes seemed to shine in the golden god's light. The smooth curve of your lips that twitched when you smiled.

You met his eyes, the sea-green hue a painting of where the sky and the sea meet.

"Do I have something on my face?" You asked, lightly teasing him to pretend you weren't about to do the same staring as he was doing now.

Percy's eyes glinted and the wisps of his hair caught the sunlight perfectly. "No, you're just the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Art's gotta be appreciated right?"

"I guess but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Aw hey, quit stealing my line!" He said, poking your stomach. A giggle escaped you, one Percy knew he would fight any number of monsters to hear again.

"It's not your line! Where's your copyright claim?"

Instead of answering right away, Percy wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. He tucked a fly-away strand of hair out of your face and pressed his lips gently to yours. It felt like the first breath of spring, when the flowers peek from their earthly shield and remind the world that only precious things take time.

"It's right here."

And he kisses you again.

#i was half asleep writing this #i am so sleepy #anyway enjoy ig??#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo show #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader

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ro-is-struggling · 1 month

Text

Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

English is not my first language

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!

The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.

You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you.

Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away.

"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."

"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."

"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."

"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."

"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."

"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."

Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders.

Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.

"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness.

You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.

"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know.

But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.

"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."

Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.

“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.

"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."

"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him.

"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."

Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.

For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.

"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence.

The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.

However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands.

He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.

His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.

They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.

Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts.

You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go.

Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.

Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.

Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.

The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.

"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.

But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.

It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.

In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.

A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.

"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.

"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.

"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you."

He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.

You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.

“Princess?”

His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.

"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves.

He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so.

"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right."

You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal.

When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.

"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."

A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had.

Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear.

"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes.

"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."

"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."

"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"

"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.

"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."

"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."

"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"

"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."

Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."

"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table.

After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.

The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died.

Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him.

Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.

"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."

You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.

"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet."

"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.

"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."

The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain.

Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.

"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."

It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.

Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.

"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him.

Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source.

"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.

Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.

When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.

The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.

"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."

Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.

Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up.

Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed.

He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.

Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.

"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it.

"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."

You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.

"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.

"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.

You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.

“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.

"Or maybe you're being naively nice."

Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.

You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.

They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.

"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."

Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.

The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him.

That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.

"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned.

"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.

"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.

"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."

There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that.

"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."

Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you.

The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin.

Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection.

You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time.

You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.

"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.

Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.

The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.

"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."

It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head.

"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."

Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.

"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes, Geralt, I will."

"Good."

Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.

He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body. You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.

"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.

"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."

"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.

"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."

Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you.

"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock.

It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you.

Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible.

"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.

"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."

Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.

It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles.

And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.

"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.

"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.

The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips.

"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him.

Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move.

After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.

Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.

"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole."

You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.

"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."

"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.

"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."

"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock."

His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.

"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."

It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.

"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it."

Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.

"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.

"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"

His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit.

"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."

His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.

Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had.

You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.

"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.

"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.

Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you."

You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.

"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.

"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved.

Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."

Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.

Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.

"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.

You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms.

"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.

It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.

You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.

"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"

Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."

You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."

"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."

You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x reader smut #geralt x reader #the witcher smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader

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angldelight · 2 months

Text

cherry wine / max x fem!merc!reader

summary, you were the love his life. everybody seemed to know it, whether it be the way he looked at you or the way he held you on the podium, they knew it to be true.

warnings, lyrics are used, reader is fem, age gap (reader is younger by 3 years). possessiveness. a very cute fluffy set of hdcs of all the times max has loved you in his life. yes, I can do happy fics! marriage. allusions to violence / bruised knuckles.

quick note! I got a comment saying that the song was about domestic violence, to which I was very much so unaware of. Alas, I won’t be changing it as I used the lyrics different to the meaning that the song has. If this happens to be troublesome or bothers you then I recommend blocking me as I use songs for the fact I like the songs - not for their meanings.

he loved you in January, when he kissed you underneath the fireworks at lando’s party.

he loved you when you pushed him into his driver’s room away from the cameras so you could feel his skin on your own.

he loved you in February when you’d have a glossy look in your eyes when you spoke about the new car.

he loved you when he’d hold you to his chest, as you cried because you missed winning so badly.

he loved you when you’d cry at the way he punched that one interviewer in March.

oh mama, don’t fuss over me. the way you’d kiss his bruised knuckles, he loved you.

he loved you in April as you danced under the burning sun, a new win in the record books for you.

it’s a crime that she’s not around most of the time. he had told his teammate, checo. he’d shake his head and slap his teammate on the shoulder. young and in love, he’d call max.

his loved blossomed into something more in May, the way stress would drag you down, eyes blooming into fear struck orbs when you had a crash.

he still remember’s screaming at his team over the radio as they only shook their heads. he loved you then.

he was a fool for you in June, walking to your home to give you fresh flowers. his eyes full of love.

he still remembers the way you kissed him so sweetly, mouth against his own.

in July, he seemed to hold you against him all the time, he kissed you on the sea.

you spent time with him on his yacht, you made love under the burning hot sun, you kissed in the cold sea.

he seemed to wander for you in August, his season not as easy as the last — you struggled to find the words to make him feel better. he told you not to fuss over him.

in September you claimed manier race wins, one you needed, one you loved, one you wanted. he loved the way you laughed under the sun.

in October he loved the way you mewled under him, body sweating and panting, the way you shivered with him as it rained every now and then.

in November he asked you to marry him. you told him he was a fool and he smiled when you said yes.

in December you pushed him under the table at a party, your lips on his was like fireworks. they called you his younger love, he kissed the tears away as they tried to make you feel shame.

he loved you then, he loved you now.

#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x driver!reader #max fluff #max verstappen fluff #max x reader

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elsaellaelys · 3 months

Text

The most amazing fanfics about JJ Maybank

(Straight from my collection)

a/n: I was going throught my likes and had an amazing idea: putting all my favorite JJ fics in one post so everyone could enjoy it with me! That's why I'm taking so much to post my requested fics, but they're coming...

I hope you enjoy this as much as I. This fanfics inspired me and helped me throught the last months and I couldn't be more grateful for this lovely community! <333

--★--

JJ in his red cut off shirt

JJ working on his bike

JJ Maybank is a munch

@lilastrocup JJ's masterlist

My angel

Fishing in the dark

Talk fast

The attractive things JJ Maybank does

Happy Anniversary

JJ loves when you leaves scratches on his back

Ouch!

Sugar lips

sub!JJ

JJ and innocent reader

You comfort JJ after a fight with his dad

JJ suck**g on his gf's t*ts

Not her

idcntlikedarness milestone event ?

Cutting JJ's hair

Kook princess and make up kisses

Sea and sand

JJ giving the reader aftercare

JJ calling reader mama

Vulnerable

At last

JJ always moan when you pull his hair

JJ and more aftercare

Sp*t ?

Pinky promise

Tired of rid**g JJ

Magic touch

Lets listen to some music - JJ for I think he knows

Matching tatoos with JJ

Whiny soft!dom!JJ

Good morning sunshine

Home is where the heart is

When JJ accidentally stepped on your foot

Hold back

Now you gotta...

JJ is caught by pogues being the little spoon

Sick

The one where JJ loves your lipstick

Stress relief with JJ

I would wait forever and ever

JJ taking care of you while you're sick...

JJ's too shaggy and grown out hair

Burnt pancakes

Permanent

JJ x John B's little sister

Tease

Peace & Love

Vampire

High s*x

Praise k*nk

Sick day

JJ drying your hair

Scratching

Overthinker

Need any help?

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

@moremaybank : dirty martini with JJ

JJ putting his arm around your neck

Calling JJ dad

JJ helping you relax

JJ comforting you after a break up

Love and blow*es

(Soft) enemies to lovers

Bf!JJ headcannons

JJ gives you flowers

Knight in shining armor

Just read it. You didn't know how much you needed this.

#jj maybank #obx fanfiction #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine

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littlexdeaths · 6 days

Text

pushing up daisies - e.m.

kas eddie munson x fem reader

treat me bad like i’m no one's daughter,

body bag, baby, i’m a goner…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: ANGSTTTTT, mentions of eddie’s death and the upside down, canon divergent (reader is chosen as vecna’s last victim instead of max), established relationship, soft!dom eddie, biting/blood drinking, lil bit of jealous eddie, public sex, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

based on love is a… by pvris

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is honestly something i am so incredibly proud of, so i hope you all enjoy it. a big thank you to my babes @undead-supernova @strangerstilinski and @lokis-army-77 for helping me with parts of this fic, i love you all so much 💕

The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling in as you trudged through the rusted gates of Hawkin’s memorial cemetery.

Only the booming sounds of thunder and your labored breathing filled the morning air. Rain droplets poured steadily onto your head, dripping down the collar of your rain jacket. The clothing seemingly useless as the heavy rain soaked you to the bone.

The wild daisies clutched in your fist were beginning to wilt as your eyes scanned over the sea of headstones. Your throat tightens once you find his, now wishing that Dustin had been lying to you.

The words BURN IN HELL FREAK were still visible, despite the male’s best effort to clean them off the previous day. It had been less than a week since the funeral, but that was plenty of time for someone to vandalize his headstone. You hated this town.

Reaching the now desecrated grave you sigh, gently running your fingers along the top of the headstone. The rough edges scraped against your fingertips as you knelt down in front of it. Letting your hand fall into your lap, glancing down at the sad excuse of a bouquet in the other.

He deserved more than this… he deserved more than anything this shitty town had to offer.

“Hey Eds,” you whisper, despite the desolation surrounding you.

You carefully set the daisies onto the ground, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill past your waterline. The white of the flowers contrasted sharply against the dirt, which was quickly turning to mud beneath your knees. But you didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the funeral,” guilt laces your shaky voice as you tug your lower lip between your teeth. “I just… I couldn’t see you like that.”

Despite the feeble attempts that Dustin and Robin made to coax you out of bed that day, nothing was going to change your mind. You didn’t want to remember him that way, as you were already grappling with the image of him dying in Dustin’s arms.

A memory that haunts your dreams every night.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you mumble, reaching into your pocket to pull out his lucky set of dice. A sad smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you begin to place them along his headstone, “I brought a peace offering.”

A loud crack has your eyes flicking up, body jolting in surprise as a bolt of lightning strikes a tree in the distance. The impact splits the trunk down the middle, the wind picking up speed and taking your flowers with it.

The torn petals spread across the unkempt ground, the gesture now ruined. Just like everything else you touched.

You blame yourself for his death, knowing he would still be here if Vecna hadn't chosen you. You would live through a thousand years in a prison of your own mind, let that monster drain you of your entire existence— if it meant Eddie would have lived.

“It’s all my fault,” you don’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, staring intently at the stone in front of you.

Edward Lee Munson, now at peace.

Those bold words stare back at you, mirroring the stone that sat just a few feet besides his. One you had become very familiar with over the years.

Elizabeth Ann Munson.

Beloved wife and mother, may she rest in peace.

While hers were more faded, they still brought you a small sense of comfort. Knowing that Eddie was with her now, he was safe. But that comfort wouldn’t heal the hole that had been punched through your chest.

“I miss you,” you hiccup, your tears steadily flowing now, the moisture beginning to blur your vision. “It w-wasn’t supposed to b-be you.”

Your soft cries soon morphed into pained sobbing, your shoulders hunched over as you dug your fists into the earth. You were grateful that Steve had let you come alone, not wanting anyone to see you like this.

In the short time that Eddie had been gone, you felt suffocated. With Vecna still alive and plotting, you were constantly being watched. Your friends not knowing if the demon, creature, whatever he was— would come back to claim you for good.

Part of you hoped for it, mentally pleaded to be taken away too. Because a life without Eddie, wasn’t a life you wanted to live.

A loud scream pierces the air, and it takes you a moment to realize the sound has come from you. Your chest heaves from the force of it, allowing your head to tilt back as your eyes slip shut. Enjoying how the rain soaks into your pores, washing away any trace of your tears.

You sit like that for a while, as the storm continues to wage on around you. Silently wishing that the rain would wash you away too. Dirt is caked under your fingernails, mud coated your shins and the hem of your skirt. You knew you couldn’t sit out here much longer, as your teeth started to chatter from the cold.

Your head falls forward, allowing yourself one last look at his headstone. The red paint has stained it horribly, tainting the last thing he had left in this world.

“I’ll come back tomorrow and clean this shit up, I promise.” You say, lifting up your pinky towards the block of stone. You hold it there for a moment before your hand falls back to your side.

“I love you, Eddie,” you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve as you start to stand. Turning around as you begin to wipe the dirt from your knees.

As you take a step forward your shoe begins to sink into the wet soil, almost swallowing your foot whole. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you try to pull it back out. But any attempt is stopped short as a cold hand wraps around your other ankle. A deep groan echoes in your ears as your eyes widen in fear.

This was it… Vecna’s come back for you.

While everything inside you begs you to run, your body remains frozen. Hyperventilating as the ground beneath you begins to shift, your feet sinking in deeper as another body fights its way out from the earth. A strained grunt of your name snaps you out of your petrified state, recognizing the voice immediately.

This was a cruel joke, knowing he was taking on Eddie’s form just to hurt you more. So you decided you wouldn’t stick around to witness it.

If you were going to die, it would be by his own hands.

“No!” You shout, yanking your ankle out of that icy grip as you make a break for it.

You don’t make it very far though, only reaching the edge of his grave before you lose your footing. The tip of your shoe catches on a tree root, sending your body tumbling forward onto the wet ground. The impact knocks the wind out of you as you struggle to take a breath in. Your nails dig into the grass for purchase as you try to crawl away.

The feeling of two hands wrapping around each ankle has you screaming, thrashing about as you're dragged back towards the grave. The male flips you around, unable to hear his broken pleas over the sound of your own shrieks. You keep your eyes focused on the storm clouds above your heads, desperate for some kind of distraction. You wouldn’t look at him, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t your Eddie.

A dirty hand grips onto your chin, tilting your head down as he wedges his body between your thighs. Forcing you to face him, his dark eyes ablaze with fury— a sharp contrast to the way he gently cradles your jaw.

“I’m not in the mood for games… just get on with it,” you snap, letting your eyes slip shut as you wait for that familiar pain to shoot up your spine and through your skull.

But nothing happens.

You crack an eye open only to find the brunette staring back down at you, confusion coating his features.

“… get on with what, sweetheart?” His voice cracks, the look on his face mirroring his tone.

“Killing me,” you state, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

There’s a moment of silence between you before he starts laughing, the booming sound instantly melts your insides. It was something you thought you would never hear again.

“I guess my entrance was very Night of the Living Dead, huh?” He teases with a wide grin as his head dips lower— his drenched curls sticking to your cheek.

When you feel Eddie’s lips connect with the base of your throat, your breath hitches. Heat pools in your middle as he inhales, groaning deeply. The sound vibrates against your skin, sending shockwaves through your system.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he hums, his hands running down the length of your sides. The male grips onto the soaked fabric of your dress, slowly inching it up until his palms are splayed across the tops of your thighs.

“You’re so warm,” he continues, his nose grazing along your collarbone as you grip onto the shoulders of his oversized suit jacket.

“H-How are you here?” You question with a small whine as he lightly nips at your throat, chuckling deeply.

“You brought me here, sweetheart.” His words are spoken reassuringly, but they don’t offer you any comfort.

“So, this is a dream,” there’s no question in your voice, only a trace of melancholy.

But Eddie notices it immediately, his head lifting from the crook of your neck. His dark eyes met yours for a moment, a look of determination flashing through his irises.

“Does this feel like a dream to you, baby?”

Before you can reply, his lips brush against yours. Any worries that this wasn’t real melt away with each press of his mouth on yours. Silencing the fear that this will all disappear the moment you pull apart. The storm rages on as he kisses you with an electricity that rivals the lightning above you.

“Definitely not a dream,” you mumble, earning a soft chuckle from him.

You swallow the sound as you kiss him deeper, his ringed fingers gliding further up your thighs and under your dress. Your own slip underneath the collar of his jacket, sliding it off of his shoulders. Letting the rain soak into his white dress shirt, the fabric clinging to the muscles in his back.

Your hands quickly rake through his hair, tugging on the drenched curls as his mouth trails along your jaw. Continuing lower as he sucks harshly on your skin, enjoying the way your body responds to each press of his lips. A breathy whine spills past your own as his fingers reach the elastic band of your panties.

The tension between you continues to mount as you eagerly drag his mouth back to yours. Eddie’s fingers curl under the waistband, snapping the lace against your skin. You barely register the tearing of that same fabric, too preoccupied with his lips on yours. The clinking of his belt soon follows, aiding him in pushing his slacks down his thighs.

“Please,” you plead, lifting your hips against his. Not wanting to waste another second to have him buried inside you.

The brunette gently shushes you, pulling back for a moment as he rubs the tip of cock through your drenched folds. His pupils dilate as he takes in the way your lips part under his thumb. A shaky breath escapes them as he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he coos, caressing your cheek as he guides his hips forward. Slowly slipping into your awaiting heat with a strangled groan, “I’ll take care of you.”

His actions are gentle, as your bodies become reacquainted with each other. Eddie guides your hands above your head, fingers lacing together in the dirt. Your thighs are snug around his hips, desperate to keep him as close as humanly possible.

He rocks his hips into yours at a deep but leisurely pace, letting him savor every moment he spends inside you. As neither of you know what will happen after this is all over, it’s not something you want to think about.

Being here, in this moment, with him is the only thing that mattered to you.

The ferocity of the storm drowns out the cries that leave your lips, much different from the agonized ones you had let out earlier. Everything feels heightened, pleasure coursing through your veins with each stroke of his cock.

There’s a sudden shift in his demeanor as his eyes glaze over with an almost dangerous glint. Similar to that of a predator who had locked eyes on his prey. Your heart rate increases as a deep growl permeates the air. His fingers slip out of yours, instead digging into the soil beside you as his body goes rigid.

The brown of his irises disappear from view as he squeezes them shut, worry beginning to fill your chest. Your hands reach up to cradle his face, feeling how tightly his jaw was clenched underneath your fingertips.

“Eds,” you call softly, but the male remains frozen above you— a statue of Adonis.

He was losing control, ready to slip through your fingers. But you had already lost him once, and you weren't about to let it happen again.

“Stay with me,” you implore, softly pressing your lips against the furrow between his eyes. Brushing the dirt from his cheeks as you continue to trail tender kisses across his face.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally speaks as your lips hover over his, your breath mingling together.

“You won’t,” you promise as your nose nudges against his.

Eddie seems reluctant as he opens his eyes, crimson beginning to bleed into his irises. “But there’s something different…” he trails off, searching for any trace of fear reflecting in your eyes. “I’m different.”

“I don’t care,” you don’t miss a beat, capturing his lips with yours once more.

He moans into your mouth, hands encircling your waist as you lift your hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper inside you. Your tongue slips past his lips, gliding along his front teeth. Coming to a sudden realization as you feel the pointed edge of his canines.

Logically you should feel frightened, but it seems to have the opposite effect on you. Your kisses become frantic as your walls flutter around his shaft, the sensation causing him to moan out your name. The pace of his hips quickens as your nails dig into the drenched dress shirt covering his back.

Your lips separate as you gasp, his cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. The both of you falling closer to that precipice with each thrust of his hips. But it’s not quite enough, needing to connect with him on a new level.

Eddie peers down at you in awe as your head falls back, baring your throat to him. “Do it,” you insist, guiding his mouth towards your neck.

You can sense his hesitation, his lips ghosting over your skin instead.

“Please, Eddie,” you beg, his groan vibrating against your throat. “I want you to.”

The sincerity in your tone squashes any doubts still lingering in his head. Allowing his teeth to graze against your tender flesh, testing his resolve.

“I trust you,” is what he needs to hear before he sinks his teeth into your neck.

Your body arches into his chest, trembling as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you— pulling you under completely. Eddie drinks from you greedily, continuing to work you through your high as his own steadily approaches.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he moans as his teeth detach themselves from your throat.

His tongue darts out, lapping up the blood that begins to trickle down the curve of your neck. The sight of his mark on you is almost enough to send him over the edge. But your pretty whines are the final nail in his coffin, hips stuttering as he fills you with his warmth.

“I love you.”

Those three little words are whispered against your collarbone as the male collapses onto you. A content smile spreads across your face as your fingers card themselves through his curls. The both of you soaking up this moment of bliss for as long as you can.

The rain above your heads has finally slowed to a drizzle, the pitter patter of the droplets matching your heartbeat. You don’t know how long you laid there like this, bodies intertwined on his grave.

But it didn’t matter, as long as it was him you were entangled with.

“I love you too,” you reply a while later, the male humming as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck, crimson smeared across his lips.

A fond look falls over his features as he leans down to kiss you again, the metallic taste of you lingering on his mouth. A thought suddenly occurs to you, causing you to giggle against his lips.

“What’s so funny, sweetness?” He muses, pulling away from you with a raised brow. You tuck a loose curl behind his ear, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Just trying to think of how to explain this to Steve.” You watch in amusement as a scowl appears on his face.

“Poor thing is gonna think I was mauled by a wild animal,” you tease, gesturing to the bite mark on your neck.

You see a flash of jealousy in his eyes, a low growl rumbles through his chest as his lips reattach themselves to your throat— causing you to squeal.

“Harrington’s just gonna have to deal with it,” he answered smugly, hugging your body closer to his.

The both of you completely unaware of the looming figure watching you from the tree line.

tagging some lovelies: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @nailbatanddungeon @vecslut @likedovesinthewnd @lofaewrites

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #kas!eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie munson

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syneilesis · 4 months

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[fic] if only for a moment

if only for a moment

Love and Deepspace | Rafayel (Qi Yu) x Main-Character!Reader | T | 3.6k words | ao3 link (with correct formatting)

Rafayel waits. And waits. And waits.

A/N: Another LaD fic!! This time it's Rafayel. Several elements of this fic are inspired by and loosely based on his story anecdotes and bond story, plus that Deep Sea card line backdrop. So more spoilers in this one, I'm afraid. I think you need to be aware of them in order to follow the flow of the fic. But if not, here's what you need to know: basically Rafayel accepts a visiting professorship at the University of Linkon to reunite with the MC/you. And the prose poetry interspersed are loosely situated in the Deep Sea card lineup setting (you can search in YouTube for the scenes. This one is a brief glimpse of the scene). That princess/knight(??) dynamic is yum yum.

If possible, please read the version on AO3. I formatted the prose poems there as if they're really prose poetry, so I'd appreciate it if you check that out. (Though there isn't too much difference between the formatting here and there, I did make the effort of coding a little 🥺)

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy, and I am sO STOKED FOR THE OFFICIAL RELEASE. rip my wallet 💸😭

JUST LOOK AT THIS MAN AND BELIEVE

There’s a type of berry in a distant land that produces a rare shade of ink that matches the color of your eyes. It takes a hundred of them to create the right hue and volume for the art that he wants to make. It comes to him in a dream: endless desert, then fireworks of verdant sparks that coalesce into stem, leaf, and, finally, fruit. Rafayel remembers that land, so much different from the iridescent blue of ocean underwater, and the acrid gold of the barren desert. His mouth filled with the succulent sweetness of the dream, the lingering sandpaper roughness of the berries on his fingers. He already knows the name of the artwork even before he’s begun—Waiting, Missing. The ache in his bones gaining form, an intangible thing taking flesh.

Under the ocean surface, time is muted, a deafening thickness that surrounds you with its ambiguity. On land, however, it is linear, and fast, and in a matter of blinks, Rafayel’s visiting professorship nearly wraps up.

He’s only glimpsed you once or twice. Thrice at most. The university is big, but not big enough to warrant a dearth of fateful encounters. The first time he saw you it was at a coffee shop: walking along with your friends outside, your voice mellifluous and festive wafting through the trellis of the café entrance. You were talking about him—well, about Lemuria to be specific, but these days any talk of Lemuria inevitably draws in his name.

He’s committed your schedule to memory, and yet it just seems impossible to capture a moment with you. Even just a brush of shoulders, or of sleeves—an asymptote of contact. Just navigating around your orbit, but never truly meeting.

What would it be like—finally talking to you? You in front of him, face to face? Rafayel imagines the ache of waiting fading into the background until it’s completely gone. He yearns for that feeling, the release of it. A conclusion—or maybe even a beginning.

i. take my hand, he told you under the glow of the lustrous moon, the only source of light that contoured the secretive valleys of his face. i want to show your highness something. there was a country, he said, beyond the undulating monochrome of the desert, blanketed by lush trees and shrubberies and flowers that buildings were made in betwixt and around them—a nation of trailing and winding architecture, a marriage of the natural and the manmade. you wanted to ask why he’d planned on taking you there, and the only answer you got was a curt turn of his head and the profile of a masked man layered by shadows and distance. it would have been nice, you thought, if the moon poured light upon his hooded gaze.

Eventually he begins to frequent the café. Twice a week at first—he doesn’t want to come off strong right away, of course—and then making his way up until he’s hanging out there more than his own studio. He schedules his visits around your classes, always during the ones when the probability of you dropping by the café is high and he can ‘coincidentally’ be around the same area. It’s gotten to a point that Thomas calls him out on it, and nags at him to focus more on his painting. The next exhibit is immediately after his visiting professorship after all.

“From where I’m standing,” Thomas says, “you’re not painting at all.”

Rafayel ignores him.

Five minutes later, he says, “Not painting is part of the painting process.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, but he leaves him to it.

At the café, Rafayel attracts curious looks. A few attempt to approach him, but he pretends not to see them. They linger around the periphery, like moths to flame.

And then something happens: the entrance door chimes, and you swan into the coffee shop, earphones and denim overall skirt, the kind of rosy-cheeked image Rafayel finds on teen magazines, wide-eyed and earnest. You fall in line and order when it’s your turn, and your eyes sweep across the packed café searching for a vacant seat until they finally land on him.

Rafayel’s heart stumbles.

Up close, the baby fat on your cheeks still gives you the appearance of being younger than you actually look. You turn a polite smile his way, and his heart stutters again—but this time it is taken as a warning.

“Hi,” you say, tentative. Any hint of recognition absent. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

ii. you're counting the steps of your inevitable parting. you're at the edge of the desert, far away from your home and its familiar scents, oriented towards a direction that promised a future sad memory, the gentle warmth of his hand, the downward denial of his gaze. this longing that grew out of your bones, aching during cold, aching during heat, aching when he looked at you with such tenderness he had to hide it through the sharp tug of your joined hands, the long strides that opened up a lonely distance. intimacy was dangerous, knowing was dangerous, the bowels of his heart like a solitary flower on a high peak. what would you do to such loneliness?

Memory isn't always an infallible thing. The human brain cannot hang on to every moment of your life, though Rafayel wishes it were so. But still—to think that you would forget him, and it hasn’t even been a century. You were like a phantom thief stealing his heart in the night—no recourse, no resolution.

To wait is to be in agony, the burn of yearning locked within the heart. Rafayel has been waiting for a long time, and the only memory scorched in his heart is fire, the blaze and its blinding, all-consuming want.

What would you do to such want?

You have a blurry childhood, Rafayel discovers. After the first Wanderer descended on Earth, the incident strummed your memories like a stringed instrument that tired of the same chord, over and over. It had bothered you at first—not being in control of your own memories—but eventually you had learned to live with it.

“Grandma and Caleb—my childhood friend—helped me through the process,” you tell him, stirring your iced mocha with its straw. “I owe them a lot.”

Eyes cast down, but still the melancholy shadows remain in your expression. Rafayel folds his arms on the table, and leans closer.

Around them only a few people occupy the coffee shop at this time. How fortunate for Rafayel to catch you during your break while every other student is trapped in class lectures.

“There’s no use in dwelling upon what's already happened. Even sharks have to give up when their prey escapes. When you remember, it will be all the more joyous, no?”

The smile you give him is crooked, disbelieving.

“If I remember.”

“You’ll remember.” Because there’s no other choice, for you and for him. Rafayel cannot bear being shelved in the history of your smile and happiness. Waiting can only be endurable if there’s an endpoint.

In his studio, Rafayel begins his next painting.

iii. the berries tasted sweet, with an edge of sourness that clung to the bottom of the tongue. it had the exact shade of your eyes, a detail that rafayel brought up the moment he plucked it from the shrub. raising it to align with your eyes, comparing them with his artist's meticulous gaze. maybe when this is all over, i'll go back here again to extract ink from these berries, and paint a portrait of your highness using these to color your eyes. he never showed you any of his paintings, merely mentioned them in passing, and you constructed a dream of him from the throwaway words that left his covered lips. i'm not used to sitting for so long, you reminded him, and he glanced at you, then at the berry between his fingers. my memory is enough, then handed you the fruit.

In the few weeks of meeting with you Rafayel forgets that his visiting professorship is ending soon and he has to give out his last lecture. Thomas had asked him what his topic would be. At that point Rafayel had no answer. But now he has.

“I’ve been hearing you talk about Lemuria every now and then with your friends.” He props his cheek on his hand, tilting his head slightly and giving you a charming smile. “Interested?”

You blink. “How did you know?”

“Oh, I’ve seen you a couple of times here, and I happened to hear your friends chat about my lecture. Your points were almost accurate, I’m in awe.”

“The visiting professor—that’s you?!”

Rafayel pauses, the slosh of his drink nearly spilling on his frozen hand.

“You didn’t know?”

Sheepish, you say, “Honestly, I didn’t make the connection. Is that why plenty of people have been glaring at me as of late?”

He releases a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling heavenward.

“In any case, my final lecture is on Friday next week. It’s titled “Memory and Meaning in Lemurian Art”. Why don’t you drop by and listen, and you can tell me what you think afterwards.”

You retrieve your bullet journal to check your schedule. It’s colorful, filled with stickers and doodles that Rafayel finds endearing. Then the excited moue on your face drops into a frown, and Rafayel can foresee the next words that will come out of your downturned lips.

“I’m sorry,” you say guiltily, “but I have a major test that day, and I need to get a high score in order to pass the course.”

Rafayel exhales, long and weary, but ultimately shrugs off the apology. “What a shame, but I forgive you. Just don’t fail your exam or else my magnanimity would be all for nothing.”

He calls Thomas that night.

“I’ll disappear for a while once the professorship is over.”

“Hey, wait, what do you me—”

“You’ll be happy to know that this is for my next painting.”

A beat. “Okay … but for how long?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Then he hangs up.

He’s trying, he really does. The lecture ends to a resounding applause, and it’s mechanical how he answers the questions posed by the audience. But he’s trying, he’s trying. There’s no specter of you in the sea of faces in the auditorium. You’re at the other end of the university compound, sweating your way through your exam. He genuinely hopes you’d pass, for your sake.

Thomas had booked his flight to another country, where he’ll traverse to a land that he’d visited many times in his dreams and had woken up with a filmy, sweet-sour tang at the roof of his mouth. He’ll leave the morning after the closing dinner party the faculty has prepared for him. There isn’t time to pack much, and no time to tell you goodbye.

Rafayel guesses that it’s only fair: how would you feel waiting for him at that café, the chair across you empty, only the sunlight pooling from the window as your companion?

iv. parting, somebody once said, is such a sweet sorrow. much like those berries in that ever-green nation, a lingering sourness remained underneath, the sting of it reminding you every now and then. he was already mourned for even before he left. tell me what it's like—the ocean. he was elusive, untouchable in his grief. you'd heard through whispers, the story of his migration, the drowning before the drying, the unwanted journey. grief brought him to you and grief would steal him away from you, you knew, down to the cells of your body and the hopelessness in your blood. —and yet. and yet you wanted to have a taste of it, anyway.

The ever-green land is no longer green, or lush, or alive. Time corroded it into memory, sepia-faded, wizened. Past. The berries he’s searching for don’t grow here anymore. Everything here is empty, barren, helplessly so.

Rafayel hasn’t accounted for such development, but he should have known. Disappointment stings at his chest, and bitterly he turns away and stays at the next town over. At a family-run restaurant situated near the outskirts, he looks over the wide windows, across the highway road, beyond the jagged horizon. The painting won’t be finished, then. Another tragedy, pressed flat next to the forgetting, to the waiting, and his home.

The chef personally serves him his order and, after a shuffle of hesitation, brings up a question.

“Young man, you came from the direction of the old country, yeah?”

Rafayel meets his inquisitive gaze. “Yes, why?”

“It’s been a while since we had someone visiting that place. There’s nothing in there anymore, it’s been that way for years. Why did you go there?”

Rafayel is reluctant to say, but at the guileless set of the older man’s face, he concedes.

“I was looking for berries. The ones native there. They produce a shade that I need for my painting.”

At the mention of the fruit, the chef’s expression lights up. “Oh! I see, I see. You’re in luck, son. We grow them here at the farm. Plenty of those for everyone. How about I give you some? It’s rare meeting someone who still remembers the old country, it’s almost fate. How many did you say you need?”

Fate. Just like the time of your first meeting, as if the universe had gifted you to him. Just like the time of your parting, of your forgetting, of his waiting. Fate as a connection from you to him, red and burning brightly.

He doesn’t want to seem eager, but he knows he’s failed from the way the chef toothily grins at him.

“A hundred or so.”

The chef falters at that, jerking slightly back. But he accepts it with a nod, an avuncular smile making its way across his kind, powdery features.

“That sure is a huge number, but I think we can work something out.”

His painting takes a month to complete, inclusive of the time spent making the ink from the acquired berries. Sometimes, Thomas watches him paint, quiet in the background. His stays usually don’t last—a quick flash that Rafayel nearly misses, or deliberately ignores. But during the final stages of the painting process, Thomas hands him the exhibit details.

“I’m just thankful you’re on time for this one.” He sighs, relieved, then leaves.

Alone, Rafayel creates. Brushstroke after careful brushstroke, each varying by pressure and angle. He lets each layer of paint dry before moving onto the next. The berry ink—the color of your eyes—the solely different element of this painting. Center, central. The focal point. The beating heart. The years and years of waiting and longing. The form and the flesh. Alive.

This, too, is an endpoint.

v. can i see your face, just this once? your hands grazed his mask like a ghost wanting to touch. rafayel stayed still beneath your desirous fingers, observing, waiting, his own fingers twitching towards his dagger. even in the parting he could not let go of this distance. hopeless, hopeless. your highness would get nothing out of seeing my face. he's wrong, his eyes never left your face, and he's wrong. he didn't stop you from your grasping of his mask, and him—finally—bare and beautiful yet a little sad. you're wrong, you said, tracing his slightly parted lips with a trembling finger, you're wrong. it is everything to me.

The gallery is packed. No surprise there. It’s almost boring, in a way. Waiting, Missing hangs at the farthest hall in the floor, special and intimate as it should be. Thomas knows him well; otherwise, Rafayel would have whined at him to hell and back just so he could be granted this demand that is in reality a mandate.

He’s hiding from the throngs of journalists and art critics alike and sequesters himself in a corner that has a clear view of the painting. Loosening his collar and tie, Rafayel breathes and closes his eyes, leans tiredly against the wall. A few more minutes, and he’ll slink out of the building, reputation be damned.

He melts into the shadows whenever somebody passes by. He has neither time nor energy interacting with people today. Watching them through half-mast eyes, Rafayel stays in his secret place and studies with weightless detachment the people looking at the painting.

He’s made a bet with himself about the opinions of his followers and admirers. Who thinks what and why. It makes for great entertainment. The last time, a fresh-faced critic praised Rafayel’s technique as “innovative and a soul-rending reflection of the prodigy’s character.” He had laughed and laughed for hours until he couldn’t breathe any longer.

Another walks by, and before Rafayel retreats further into the corner, he glimpses a familiar gait and a familiar face.

His heartbeat races. He’s never told you that he’s holding an exhibit today. After the professorship Rafayel failed to maintain communication with you, convincing himself that it’s for the best that he protect you from afar that day onwards. It didn’t help that he had to leave as well. At the same time, you never made an effort of reaching out, and Rafayel thought that it was back to square one again, that waiting, that yearning.

But here you are right now, elegantly dressed, like someone gliding out of a dream. Rafayel swallows, his hands shake. You do not have someone else with you, and your eyes are brightly focused on Waiting, Missing, and for a fleeting moment your expression flickers into longing, strange and old and battered and sad, that it compels Rafayel to take a step forward—to you.

“Hey.”

The curious look vanishes; left no traces in your delighted face, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “Rafayel!” you exclaim. “Long time no see! Congratulations on the exhibit; these are all beautiful.”

Outwardly he smirks, belying the torrential emotions he’s currently going through. He cants his head a little, works his charm on you. “Impressed? No need to hold back your compliments.”

Laughter, prismatic and crystalline. “Yes, yes. Especially this one—Waiting, Missing. What an interesting title. At the center, what paint did you use?”

Ah. Rafayel inhales before answering. “It’s actually ink. I had to make it from a hundred berries. It was a tedious process, but I wouldn’t use anything else. It has to be this, you see.”

“Whoa, no wonder you’d been radio silent all this time. You were creating this masterpiece.”

He hums, afraid that, if he speaks, he’d reveal too much.

“Well …” You throw a playful glance at him. “Shouldn’t we celebrate your success?”

His breath catches. “I—”

Before he manages to finish the sentence, a journalist calls out to him and that summons plenty more, swarming him with no chance of escape. It pushes you out of his peripheral vision, and Rafayel wants to shout your name, but you smile and gesture at him to entertain them first. You mouth, I’ll be back, and wander around other paintings some more.

When he finally succeeds in shaking the journalists off, he seeks you out and stumbles upon you near the exit, where there’s fewer people to pile on him.

“Excellent,” he says, sidling up beside you. You turn to him and smile, and there’s that lightning-flash of something again. For one unbelievably surreal instant, Rafayel thinks that despite your hazy memories, maybe you’d been waiting for him all this time, too.

And that thought emboldens him, moving closer and closer until your bodies almost touch. An asymptote of contact. But this time, he has mustered the courage to close that unbridgeable gap.

Rafayel offers you his hand. “Let’s get out of here?”

You stare at his hand then at his face, his eyes, and a meaningful moment stretches between you and him. But even before the idea of retracting enters his mind, you grab his hand joyfully, grinning ear to ear. His heart warms, full with everything.

You squeeze his hand, ready to go. “Lead the way, then!”

vi. a kiss is a greeting and a goodbye, and rafayel tasted of ferocious tides even if you'd seen them only in dreams. his eyes closed, as though savoring his last moments with you, guarded till the bitter end. would that i could ask you to stay—with me. but he shook his head—a final rejection. maybe in another life. there was nobody to watch you cry, in the after.

Rafayel is working on a new painting—a portrait this time. The model squirms on his couch, obvious about the discomfort of posing for too long. He huffs a laugh to himself, hidden by the canvas strategically placed between them.

“I heard that,” you grumble.

“Shush, you’re breaking my concentration.”

“If that already breaks your focus then I pity the rest of the art community.” A beat, then: “Is it done?”

“Patience, my dear muse. You need endure it a little more.”

“Hmph, fine. But after this you’re treating me to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“All right, all right.” He shakes his head, fond. “My muse, so demanding.”

Something sweet touches the edge of his tongue, succulent with a hint of tartness. Like longing. Except now, it’s layered with something new and exciting. Something like a new beginning.

In the far distance, the sea murmurs, lit fire by the setting sun.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lad rafayel #lad qi yu #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace qi yu #fic #my fic #rafayel x reader #qi yu x reader #lad rafayel x reader #lad qi yu x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace spoilers #it's near midnight again i shall now sleep

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writeforfandoms · 5 months

Text

Who Wants To Live Forever

Find my Ghost masterlist

It doesn't matter how many lives you've lived, you always find your way back to him.

The reincarnation au nobody asked for and my plot bunnies yeeted at me anyway! I have a lot of thoughts about this one that didn't make it into the fic. Like. A Lot.

Warnings: Swearing, past violence, blood, injury mention, canon typical violence, idiots in love, this is just for fun, I wrote this for me but you can read it too.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Word count: 2.9k

The dreams started when you were small. Your parents at first attributed them to an overactive imagination and too much television.

But as you got older and the dreams didn't go away, you wondered. Your parents got squirrelly about them, started muttering about things like psychiatrists and not normal and worried.

So you stopped mentioning them. Pretended you didn't dream at all most nights.

Reality couldn't be farther from the truth.

You dreamed. Every single night. In some you were part of a village, living a harsh life by the sea. The men would go off to hunt and raid, and the women stayed behind to mind the village and raise the children. Those dreams always left you cold. Even in those dreams, though, dream-you noticed the beauty, the way sunlight glinted off snow, the magical lights in the sky, the blue of the sky after a storm.

Some nights you dreamed of being a nurse, tending wounded soldiers in tents and buildings. Those dreams were always full of screaming and crying and horrors. Men wheezing, coughing up blood. Limbs shattered and mangled beyond repair. A stench like you couldn't describe. But there were little moments, moments of kindness. Holding a man's hand to comfort him through his last breaths. The way the sunrise broke through some of the haze of pain surrounding those places. The way a doctor or fellow nurse would sometimes thank you, buy you a drink, share scant meals with you.

Sometimes you were a school teacher in a rural village, gently scolding children and keeping watch as they frollicked at break times. Those dreams were full of small joys. A flower one of your students brought you, bashful smile blooming into a grin at your thanks. Sunsets from the comfort of home. Warm meals at the table, often shared. With him.

He was a constant presence. Through all of your dreams, all of those times, he was always to be found. He didn't always look the same - skin tone changed, hair color changed. But you always knew him by those brown eyes.

Sometimes the two of you married. Sometimes he was married before you met him. Sometimes you were married first. But you always, always found each other. In every time. In every life.

By the time you were out of school, you had notebooks dedicated to your dreams, to the times, to the man. You kept them hidden away, for your eyes only. Just as a way to help you keep everything straight.

As more time passed, you became more and more sure that these were glimpses into the past. Your past. Past lives, you'd guess. From the way the dreams felt… it always felt like you. No matter how many times you put pen to paper, you could never accurately describe why.

But you knew. They were all you.

And they were all him.

Which made you wonder… when would you find him in this life? You'd found him in almost all of the others. It seemed reasonable that you'd find him again.

(Nevermind that you had no name, no description, no way of knowing what he'd look like or where he'd be.)

Knowing that he was out there somewhere made it easy to bury yourself in work. Oh, sure, you had friends. People who knew you. You were well-liked at work, known to get things done.

But you didn't date. You didn't look for people who weren't him.

Everyone else, you knew, would pale in comparison.

All the lives accumulated in your head did make it hard to relate. It was easier, sometimes, to sort of… float through life. You knew what was expected of you. You'd known people from every walk of life, just about. You knew a lot about people, could do well in social situations without working at it.

But it did make for a rather lonely life.

You started dreaming of him more often. Of the times the two of you lived together. Of the long talks the two of you had. Of the walks, along the sea, along a grass-lined lane, along a lake. Of the times he was just out of reach, your eyes meeting again and again through crowds and dinners and company.

Of the time he died in your arms, blood staining the both of you.

You were tired when you got on the train. This was just a little holiday to a new place.

Or. Well. You hadn't been here in this lifetime, at least.

It was busier than you remembered the area being, more built up. Your lips twitched - that's what happened over time, after all.

Nothing stayed the same for long.

You didn't pay any mind to the people around you as you walked, taking your time. You didn't mind walking to your hotel from the train station. Gave you a better chance to look around and plan where you wanted to go later.

Your eyes met brown through a coffee shop window.

You froze. You knew those eyes. You knew those eyes.

He blinked, just once. You couldn't look away.

The noise of the coffee shop finally registered when you stopped in front of his table, the chinking of mugs and flatware, the hiss of the machines, the babble of unimportant voices.

“Hi.” You were a little surprised at your own voice, quiet and a little awed.

He eyed you, black face mask obscuring most of his expression. For a moment your heart plummeted. Maybe he didn't recognize you? Maybe… he didn't remember?

Then his lips twitched.

“Took you long enough.”

“Took me long enough?” You tried for outrage but probably fell short, humor and elation buoying your heart. “And what about you, hmm?”

“Been busy.” He nodded to the seat across from him, and you could just see the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile.

“Oh, busy. Yes, how silly of me to not think of that.” You dropped into the seat, your bag landing at your feet a little harder than was probably advisable.

“Holiday?” His gaze dropped briefly to the table, to where your bag was now hidden.

“Yes.” Some of your elation faded at the dose of reality. “You?”

He paused, holding your gaze. “On leave.”

“Ah.” You smiled a little, sliding one open hand across the table. “Going well this time, then?”

He didn't say anything for a long moment, staring down at your open hand. His fingers twitched. “Not particularly.”

Your heart plummeted. “Oh.”

“S'fine.” He shook his head once, short and sharp. “You want anything? Tea, coffee?”

“Coffee is fine.” You started to stand but he waved you back into your seat.

“Wait here.”

You huffed out a breath and watched him go, broad shoulders easy to track up to the register. You finally had the attention to note other details about him. He was dressed casually, all in black, with his hood pulled up. You'd caught blonde hair under his hood.

Taller than you could remember him being. Broad shoulders.

It was just… so good to see him again. To see him now. With your own eyes, in this life.

It would be nice to make more memories, for next time.

The clink of a mug being set in front of you brought you out of your own head. You blinked at the mug and then at him as he sat across from you again.

“How long are you here?” He folded his hands in front of him, gaze fixed on you.

You shrugged. “I had only planned for a few days,” you admitted. “But I can make it longer.”

He grunted once, thumb tapping against the side of his hand as he considered something. Then he nodded once. “Meet me here tomorrow,” he said, abruptly moving to grab a pen and a napkin. “1200.”

You blinked once. “Tomorrow?” You couldn't quite keep the disappointment from your voice at that.

“Got some things to take care of before then,” he said, barely glancing up at you as he finished writing on the napkin. “Got some people for you to meet, too. If you want to know me better this time ‘round.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. He'd married already. That was the only thing you could think of. He was already married and you were too late. “I see.”

“No. You don't.” He pushed the napkin to you, tapping it twice with one large finger. “Here. Tomorrow.”

“1200,” you repeated dutifully, mustering up a wan smile. “Yes. I remember.”

“Good.” He pushed back to his feet abruptly, and you startled a little. He was just so tall! “If you don't show, I'll assume you don't want to meet again.” The words were flat, even, but his eyes… his eyes hid pain.

You nodded, too startled for words by all of this. In a moment he was gone, striding out of the coffee shop and away from you.

Every fiber of you longed to go after him, to beg him for answers.

Instead, you sat and sipped your coffee with trembling hands, staring at the napkin until the blocky letters were burned into your memory.

The walk to your hotel was a bit of a blur. You barely paid attention to the social interaction, though you must have done well enough.

You ended up sitting on the bed, bag on the floor, staring at your hands.

He'd been so close. So close.

But he hadn't taken your offer. He hadn't touched you.

You thought you might finally be going a little insane. Was this what insanity felt like? Was this some kind of fever dream? Had you finally lost all sense of reality?

But no. You had the napkin in your pocket still. You'd seen him. You hadn't learned his name this time around, hadn't learned much of anything really, except that he had people he wanted you to meet.

People. He'd said people for you to meet.

The words finally sank fully into your brain, and you weren't sure whether to laugh or scream. People. People to meet. As in more than one person.

As in he was not only married but had a family…

…or something else entirely. Something new.

Even after so many lives, the world still had a way of surprising you. A lesson hard learned over time.

You forced yourself to breathe through the weight of history on your shoulders, staring back at all the lives where things had gone wrong.

And then you forced yourself to find some dinner, shower, and read for a while before bed.

Not that you slept very well. Not with anticipation and dread wreaking havoc on your heart.

You arrived at the meeting spot ten minutes early, a little cafe on a square with a fountain in the middle. You stood outside, hands in your pockets, unsure what to expect.

“You’re early.”

You swallowed once, heart thudding hard against your ribs as you turned to look at him. “Didn’t want to be late,” you quipped, only to falter.

He wasn’t alone today.

Three other men stood with him, all of them looking at you. You lifted your chin a little, meeting the gaze of the closest man. You had just enough time to note how blue his eyes were before the memories slammed into you.

A quiet life working the land, out beyond the edge of the “civilized” world, a husband with a rare but kind smile, eyes so blue you could drown in them. Rare trips to the nearest town gave you glimpses of your brown-eyed man, but no more than that. Cold winters and muddy springs and indomitable shoulders to lean on through it all.

And a slightly less quiet life of some wealth, with a husband whose work often took him from home. But you’d had friends that time, your own societal duties. Dances. Events. Hosting. That life had not been devoid of its fun and beauty.

“Oh.” You blinked at him, eyes wide.

His lips twitched under his facial hair (muttonchops - unusual choice for this day and age) and he held out a hand to you. “Captain John Price.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand, holding his gaze for a moment longer. If he was like the him you’d known, he was a good man. Time would tell if and how he had changed. “I married you before.”

He grinned for a moment, so close to the man you’d known that your heart ached. “Twice, but don’t hold it against me,” he joked before he stepped aside.

The next man to step up also had blue eyes and a big smile. You knew him immediately - you’d seen him before, too. A few times in the shadow of your brown-eyed love, once or twice on his own. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been standing over the bed of one of his men, half-covered in blood and muck.

There had been nothing you could do, then.

Now you smiled. “Good to see you again.”

“Ye look better this time.” He chucked you gently under the chin with two knuckles, grinning. “John MacTavish, call me Soap.”

“Soap?” You raised one extremely unimpressed eyebrow.

He laughed. “A story for another time,” he promised, winking at you before he stepped back.

The last man looked at you, nerves in the pinch of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Darker skin and a ballcap met your quick perusal.

You only had to meet his gaze for a moment before you threw yourself at him, hugging him as hard as you could, breath stuttering in your chest.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, arms immediately settling around you, one hand cupping the back of your head. “It’s alright, we’re fine.”

“You left,” you grumbled, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again.”

“Promise,” he muttered, voice low, just between the two of you. “I won’t.”

You sniffled, just once, before you pulled back to look at him. “I missed you,” you admitted before gently whapping his arm. “And if you disappear on me again I’ll hunt you down next life.”

“Yes ma’am.” He grinned, not even a little abashed.

“So, what ridiculous nickname have you gotten this time?” You smiled, finally taking a half-step back.

“It’s not ridiculous,” he scoffed. “Gaz. Kyle, this time ‘round.”

“Gaz.” You tested it out slowly before shrugging. “Not the worst.”

“Oh? And what would be?” Soap snuck up next to you, looking eager for mischief.

“Story for another time,” you shot back at him with a smile. You finally turned your gaze to him again, to your brown-eyed man. The only one who hadn’t given you his name yet.

“Simon,” he finally said, as if he’d read your mind.

“Simon.” You smiled. “How did you…?” You made a helpless motion between the three men.

“Price,” Simon answered with a little shrug. “Found all of us.”

“Came across ‘em,” Price said, arms crossed over his chest. “Knew I had to keep ‘em close.”

You nodded, a little ache in your heart. “It’s a good thing you did.” But your gaze didn’t stray from Simon, too busy basking in the sight of him, here and whole in front of you.

“He’s no’ married yet,” Soap said in a stage whisper. When you glanced at him, he was grinning. “Unattached. Available. Free to a good home.”

“MacTavish,” Simon growled, brows twitching in annoyance.

But you? You grinned. “Well, that’s good, because it’s your turn this time,” you teased, chin tipping up and to one side.

Simon’s gaze snapped back to you, eyes a little wide. “What?”

“I asked you last time,” you said patiently, trying hard to not grin. “Almost kissed you in front of your fiance, too.”

“Almost,” he agreed, eyes warm as his gaze swept the length of your body.

“I spotted you yesterday, too,” you pointed out, completely reasonably and not at all like a little gremlin. (You liked that word a lot and had incorporated it as much as you could once you’d caught airmen using it during World War II.)

“So, ‘s my turn?” He took one step closer to you.

“Mmhm.” You bit the inside of your lip hard to keep your grin to yourself.

His eyes narrowed at you, which was the only warning you had before he pulled down his face mask and kissed you. Vaguely, you heard Soap cheering and Price grumbling. But everything fell to the back of your mind.

Everything that wasn’t Simon.

A little piece of your heart clicked into place.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were a little out of breath, holding each other tight. His lips twitched in a tiny smile and you all but beamed in response.

And then yipped when someone yanked you away from Simon.

“Best friend dibs,” Kyle announced, already starting to walk you away. “Mine for now, I’ll give her back in a day or two.”

You cackled at the look on Simon’s face, like he was torn between murder and laughing along with the joke.

“There’s no rush,” you couldn’t help but tease. “We’ve got this entire life, now.”

Simon met your gaze again even as his long strides caught him up with you and Kyle. His mask was back in place now but his eyes were warm, smiling at you, even as his hand twined with yours.

Finally.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #f!reader

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lathalea · 8 months

Text

The Arrival

Yes, my beloved readers, it's time for another Thorin fic from yours truly!

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader/OC (pick one) Rating: G Warnings: none Author's notes: Thorin and his Company have reclaimed Erebor and started rebuilding their kingdom. Everything seems fine except for the fact that the King Under The Mountain is eagerly awaiting the arrival of someone very dear to him... Also, I want to apologise to Peter Jackson for stealing some lines from An Unexpected Journey and J.R.R. Tolkien for appropriating and rephrasing one sentence from The Lord of The Rings. I'm a hopeless romantic, what can I say? You can find this fic on AO3. For @legolasbadass 💙💙💙

Khuzdul: Iglishmêk - dwarven sign language Kurdelê - my heart Lukhdelê - my light of all lights

The King Under the Mountain, Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, the second of his name, also known as Thorin Oakenshield, the king of Durin’s folk, was not a patient Dwarf—and yet he waited. He had been standing on the main terrace above the Great Gate of Erebor since the moment when the first rays of the morning sun gilded the distant peaks of the Iron Hills. His eyes, however, were turned towards the west, where the jagged tops of the Misty Mountains grazed against the pink sky. As he took a deep breath, fresh spring air filled his lungs. It was his—and his people’s—first spring in Erebor since it was reclaimed. The winter after the Battle of Five Armies passed in a blink of an eye. The kingdom was being rebuilt and prepared for the returning Dwarves, food stores had to be replenished, new trade agreements had to be signed… but among all those duties, something else kept Thorin awake until late on many a night. His memories.

The memory of a pair of hands gently resting on his shoulders as he sat behind his desk, and the sweet timbre of the voice that went with it, “Come, Kurdelê, it is time we reposed for the night, those reports can wait until the morning.”

The memory of those soft, sweet lips pressing innocently against his cheek and murmuring something scandalously indecent into his ear.

The memory of how her body felt in his lap, his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed against his, her silver laughter as she pretended to scold his rash behaviour, so unbecoming of a king.

The memory of her bare skin in candlelight.

But there were other memories, too. Their lengthy late-night conversations about anything and everything. Their secret escapades to the market, or to an inn, dressed as common folk, pretending to be a couple of travelling merchants. Their wanderings through the Blue Mountains in search of the best view of the sea in the west (his choice) and the most beautiful flower glades (her choice).

During the lengthy council meetings he had to hold almost daily in Erebor, he would recall how much her presence changed the dynamics of similar gatherings back in the Blue Mountains. Her reasoning was swift, and her no-nonsense approach to the matters of state made even the most ancient council members nod in approval. Even now, he would—out of habit—turn to his right, wishing to discuss a matter with her or ask for her insight. But she was not there, and so he would give out a dissatisfied grunt and return to the matter at hand.

He knew that the only thing he had to do was wait, and he abhorred it. But there was nothing to be done. No sane person would risk crossing the Misty Mountains in the middle of winter. Now, however, the spring came into its own right. And he sent his best men to the High Pass to oversee the approach of the first dwarven caravan from Eriador. It was supposed to bring the first group of his people returning home, merchants, masters of craft, their families and belongings… and her. The whole Erebor was waiting for the arrival of their kin—the symbol of a new beginning for the Mountain and its dwellers. Many eyes turned to the west, counting the days, making wagers, discussing the route the waggons must have taken, and the current road conditions. It seemed that in those days, only one topic existed: the caravan.

But Thorin could only think of her lovely hand in his. Of her kindred touch.

As soon as a raven brought word from the caravan, reporting that they have succesfully crossed the mountains, he could not stop himself from looking to the west, and hoping.

This was the fifth day he spent on the terrace, waiting for any signs of the caravan’s approach.

On the first day, Gloin waited with him in hopes of seeing his wife and son, but was called away due to some issue in the treasure chamber. Thorin stayed, cursing the enchanted forest (and its haughty king, for good measure) for daring to obscure his view. Sadly, neither the forest nor its king moved out of the way.

On the second day, Dwalin asked Thorin whether he was growing mawkish in his dotage, staring at the edge of Mirkwood like a lovesick whelp—a question he had to take back on the training grounds.

On the third day, Dori asked whether Thorin would rather wait inside, on account of that nasty rain, and drink some warm tea with honey. No, said Thorin, he would not. And that envoy from the Iron Hills could join him there, on the terrace, by the way.

On the fourth day, Nori, Bifur and Bofur kept Thorin company, amusing him—and themselves in equal measure—with the latest gossip straight from the taverns of Erebor (all two of them, for now). He had no idea that several hundreds of dwarves, mostly newcomers from the Iron Hills and the White Mountains, could wreak such havoc. And marry so swiftly and in such numbers. Spring was truly in the air.

Now, on the fifth day, he stood alone, and waited. Roac was circling the Long Lake below, giving out a single caw from time to time, “Still nothing.”

And then, a hunting horn rang out in the air. Thorin knew its sound all too well.

“Balin!” he exclaimed to his friend who sat in the hall beyond the terrace. “Sound the alarm!”

The elderly dwarf raised his head from above a piece of parchment, slightly puzzled.

“Call out the guard,” Thorin insisted, feeling his impatience take the better of him. “Do it now!

“What is it?” Balin rose from his seat, his scroll forgotten.

“The caravan!” Thorin gestured excitedly—perhaps a tad too excitedly for a Dwarf of his stature—towards Mirkwood, where a long line of waggons started emerging from the forest. “They will be here soon!”

She will be here soon.

Over a year passed since the last time he held her in his arms, since he braided the silky dark waves of her hair, and since he looked into the brilliant, wise eyes of the woman he loved. To him, it felt like an eternity, and in that very moment, as he hurried down the stairs that led towards the Great Gate, he made a solemn promise to himself.

When the caravan arrived, most of the Dwarves were already gathered outside of the mountain. The guards held their heads high, presenting their weapons in an honorary salute, not leaving their posts, but even they cast curious glances at the newly arrived, trying to find familiar faces in the crowd. Thorin smirked at his thoughts. They looked as impatient as their king.

He knew the protocol of such meetings like the back of his hand, requiring him to stand by the gate, look regally, and welcome the newcomers to their new—old—home. His resolve wavered, however, when he saw a familiar figure clad in a green, fur-lined gown getting down a waggon, helped by one of the guardsmen. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Without thinking, he took a step forward, and then stopped, recalling who he was and what he was expected to do. He was also not allowed to leave his post, just like his guards. Instead, he observed from a distance, admiring the way the waves of her hair fell down her shoulders as she looked around, perhaps slightly disoriented, taking in the surroundings. Thorin saw the exact moments when her gaze rested on the mossy stone shaped by his ancestors into statues of warrior kings. Then her gaze moved down, focusing on the green marble of the Great Gate. Her eyes widened, her lips formed an “O” and then moved, she spoke something, but her words were lost in all the commotion. In that very moment, she reminded him of that bright-eyed maiden he had met for the first time in a mountain meadow half a world away; the maiden who laughed at his abysmal jokes, who fit so well in his arms when they danced, and who accepted his awkward courting efforts. The time that passed between then and now did not take away her ability to wonder and enjoy the world around her. She endured so many hardships on the way from the Blue Mountains to Erebor, so many cold nights on the road, faced so many dangers, and yet she never wavered in her decision to leave the Blue Mountains behind to be with him and their people. Now, she was finally here and, at last, he felt complete. Being able to see his own kingdom—their kingdom—through her eyes, and to see how amazed she was at the view, was a reward on its own.

Thorin could not stop himself from smiling when her eyes finally met his.

“Welcome home, my…” he began signing in iglishmêk, in that discreet way they often did on official occasions when the eyes of many would rest on them.

A light flush bloomed on her cheeks, she responded with a smile, and began walking towards him, oblivious of her escort and the joyous crowd around her, forgetting about the protocol, moving faster and faster, a giggle escaping her lips, her braids danced in the wind, her cloak flowed behind her, and…

“Thorin!” she called him in that melodious voice of hers, and there were diamonds in her eyes, or perhaps it was only his vision that suddenly turned very blurry, and he opened her arms, and thought “the Abyss take the protocol!”, and he rushed towards her, ignoring Balin clearing his throat in embarrassment, because she was finally here, and he had waited long enough—and they finally met halfway.

He wrapped his arms around her and felt her pressing into him, and there was laughter, and more tears in their eyes, the diamonds of happiness, those most precious among gems, and he was finally able to finish that sentence.

“Welcome home, my wife,” he rasped out, pressing his forehead against her, breathing in her familiar flowery scent, the one he adored so much. This was her, finally her, in his arms, and only she mattered in this very moment, not the crowd cheering around them, witnessing this moment of tenderness between their ruling couple, not even his kingdom, nor the world around them—now, it was only her.

“I missed you, my love,” she murmured, holding tight onto him, as if she wanted to make sure he would not disappear, and a wave of warmth washed over him. “I can’t believe I’m finally here, with you, after all those months…”

“Neither can I,” he agreed, cupping her cheek tenderly and eliciting a small sigh from her. “It was much too long, Lukhdelê.”

“Aye, it was,” she nodded, her eyes searching his face, as if learning it anew.

“I made a promise to myself,” Thorin continued. “Never again.”

“Oh?” she tilted her head in that alluring way of hers, and he had to suppress the improper urge to kiss her passionately in front of his people.

“Never again shall we part for so long. I crave you by my side, my heart,” he stated, bringing her hand to his lips.

“Then I will be looking forward to you upholding the promise,” she graced him with a teasing smile that made his blood run faster. “We have been apart indeed for too long, and so were our people. I believe it is time for us to work on improving their morale, would you not agree, my king?”

“Your wish is my command, my queen,” he agreed and took her in his arms again, and then their lips met. Sweetness intermingled with warmth, tenderness fueled the fire inside them, and he cared not that they stood in front of the gate in the sight of many.

After all, who cares about protocol when you have to properly welcome your wife home?

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neuvistar · 6 months

Text

LOTUS FLOWER. part 2 (fluff + neuvillette version)

— featuring ┊neuvillette x f!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊fluff ver! these sweethearts as fathers AAA, established relationships (u guys r married!!) genshin papas on the brain rn guys ! !

— a/n ┊omg stop i didn’t post this the day after lotus flower pt 2 but it’s okay! uhmm.. anyways! here’s part two of this guys ! ! it’s literally like a copy of my hsr fic (hsr men as fathers) but whatevs!! i’m planning 2 do the other five as well n maybe more genshin men before october ends bc i am SOOOO late it’s not even funny guys.. reblogs VERY much appreciated !

#𝟏 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐃, 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈��𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄

— NEUVILLETTE is an outstanding father, let’s make that very clear! he’s like that typa father that’s a little protective but also let’s his kids run off with the wind ! he loves seeing them run free whenever he takes care of them, there’s just something about his children’s happiness that makes him happy too. neuvillette is a sweetheart yes we all know that, but i’m sure there are times where he can be protective of his little dragonlings n protect them if needed ! he worries a lot about his behaviour n wonders if he’s too overbearing, or too carefree with his kids, please let him know that he’s doing just fine !

— NEUVILLETTE in my opinion would have about 2-3 (damn) little dragonlings! (or more.. maybe..) two boys n maybe a little daughter! he would love all his babies from the moon and back ! he ADORES them, and i mean ADOREEESSS them !! when you first gave birth to your first child, he probably started crying tears of joy because of how happy he is bringing a new life onto this world, he adores his babies sm trust me

— NEUVILLETTE would probably ask some melusines to babysit and help with his kids! just imagine, neuvillette working in his office while his babies run around alongside a melusine! ITS SO CUTE ! he thinks it’s absolutely adorable how close of a relationship his dragonlings have with them, it’s just so so cute !

— NEUVILLETTE is an outstanding father n all, but i feel like he would want 2 be a lil more extra ! because of the fact his hair might’ve been tied by the melusines, i feel like he would shyly ask the melusines for advice on how to tie hair or style it in general, he would work SO hard to perfect it ! everyday your little princess would always have her hair done by her papa, who spent many many minutes trying his best to perfect her hair !

“did daddy do your hair again?”

“mhm! papa always does my hair ! i like it when he does it, i really like the clips! <3” (SO CUTE)

— NEUVILLETTE would also be thrilled when his kids inherit his little horns and dragon features, i can only imagine him sitting down with them and telling them all about the past, and how they should love themselves and their unique features. despite that, he lets them know that they will be loved no matter their indifferences from everyone else. because of his deep longing of learning more about his existence and his belonging to fontaine, neuvillette is a man of his words.. he’s willing to teach his kids these sorts of things, he wouldn’t want them to undergo such stressful things at such young ages, he loves his babies and he WILL make sure they know he and their mama loves them very much !

“i— hng.. princess! you need to take a bath!” neuvillette’s face twists with worry as his kids run around the house, their tails and horns they inherited from him swishing and moving around as smooth as the sea, the waves and waves of laughter filling his ears. “come now, your mother will be upset if she sees you all walking around like this..!” the chief justice scratched the back of his neck, running after his dragonlings with a small towel in his hands. ah, this has always been a common issue. neuvillette was worried about his kids slipping and hurting themselves more than anything else in the world

thanking the archons above, neuvillette wrapped his strong arms around his dragonlings and scooped them up.. sighing in relief. “alright alright.. you little dragons are giving papa such a hard time.. bonté.“ the larger male chuckled, drying his babies with the towel with a sense of relief, his lips curved into a soft smile. “now, will you promise papa not to run around like that again?” his voice was gentle, like he was trying not to make it seem like he was scolding them.

“uh-huh! we promise!”

“mm.. i don’t believe you.” neuvillette coos, kissing the temple of their foreheads with a light stroke to their hair. “come now, let’s go make some food for your mother while we wait.. your mom must be exhausted after she comes back, right?”

“mhm!”

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #genshin : papas ! ♡#genshin papas talk with maryse #genshin papas : neuvillette !#neuvillette <33 #neuvi kissies <3 #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x reader #neuvilette x you

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jaevie · 5 months

Text

Midday Reverie

Pairing: omega!Jaehyun x alpha!reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers (kind of), omegaverse, slow burn, smut.

Word count: 22.5k

Summary: After moving to the countryside to protect himself from hunters, Jaehyun is finally content: not only he lives away from omega stereotypes, but manages to get himself a job at the local sex shop. Everything is perfect until a huntress comes to town — one that, much to his surprise, is an alpha. And his mate.

Warnings: If you’re big/educated on omegaverse, know that I made the pairing a little non-traditional, with female alpha being able to get impregnated by a male omega. For smut, expect oral and unprotected sex, biting, scenting, toys, shibari, and extreme emotional involvement. This fic also contains mentions of death and descriptions of violence.

N/A: Wow, this was finished way faster than I intended. I hope you enjoy it! ♡

After years of running and hiding, Jung Jaehyun could say that, for once in his life, he was happy, safe and free.

The countryside observed his absolute content — a young man with a serene complexion, glasses on his nose and thick black hair caressed by the sea-scented wind — as he walked downtown. Attracted to beautiful things, the sun petted the top of his head. Even the soothing landscapes kept an eye on him: the historical houses carved into the hills, the imponent cliffs, the flower fields extending their arms into the horizon, and the never-ending ocean who occupied itself leaving giggly pecks on the shore, a kiss marked by the whitest foam.

The small town Jaehyun had chosen to live in was graced with more than natural beauties, as a colorful village thrived in the middle, very similar to an artist’s canvas. Medieval but also vibrant, with several shades of bricks decorating the buildings, streets and squares. The air was often dense with the smell of bread coming from the bakery, fresh pasta from the restaurants, and flowers from the shops.

It was such a lovely place. Perfect for an omega.

Although many hurtful lies had been spread about his kind, Jaehyun accepted the truth. He was a gentle soul, patient, understanding and sensitive to other’s feelings. However, he was not what others claimed omegas to be: so weak and submissive he would beg for love and affection; so unable to control himself his hormones would turn him into an animal. And finally, Jaehyun believed, with his entire heart, that he did not need to rely on an alpha to be happy or to find purpose in life.

So when he noticed how cruel life could be, how omegas were treated unfairly and how the government was paying hunters to keep them under control, Jaehyun ran away. Thankfully, it worked out.

The small bell on the door rang softly when he stepped in, finding his boss already inside the shop. “Good morning, Jae!” Haechan cooed, expressive brown eyes matching his big grin.

“Good morning!” Jaehyun put his bag aside, noticing a bunch of new boxes on the floor. “I see the packages arrived.”

“These are going to sell like water!” Haechan nearly jumped from excitement. Had he not been human, he was probably going to be an omega too. Sometimes, Jaehyun wished he could actually like Haechan: that the shop owner’s scent edged him on, and that Haechan’s gaze could make him blush. Things would be a lot easier if Jaehyun could fall for a human. “Here are the new plugs, the clit suckers are there, and these…” Haechan opened one of the boxes, removing a toy Jaehyun had never seen. It had two different ends connected by a string: a white vibrator and a clitorial sucker. Yellow, blue and pink flowers were imprinted all over it. Quite honestly, it seemed to match a little girl’s birthday party. “This is the revolution, my friend. It sucks the clit while the vibrator thrusts itself in.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. Technology was really wild those days. “Wow!”

“I know! People can use it on their own and with their partners. Amazing, isn’t it?” Then, Haechan handed the toy over. “Here, this one is yours. Use it and give me your opinion. We need honest, accurate reviews.”

Jaehyun swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he felt the toy in his hands, rubbing his thumb against the smooth silicone. Perceptive as a fox, Haechan noticed his hesitation. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have anyone to try this with.” Jaehyun smiled without showing his teeth, dimples coming out shyly.

“Well, my boy, you can always try. Go out tonight and find yourself a lady. You don’t have to marry her, just a night will do,” Haechan encouraged with gentle taps on Jaehyun’s shoulder.

Deep inside, Jaehyun wished he could explain that his nature was way more complex. He was an omega, and omegas sought to have mates for life. Someone they could trust and thrive with, someone to complement their skills, to be nice to them. To build them a nest and keep them nice and warm. But no one should know about his nature. It was only going to put him in danger.

Laughing it off, Jaehyun kept his secret buried in his chest.

Heachan left after checking the storage to meet the marketing agency he had hired, leaving Jaehyun by himself. It was nothing unusual. Most of Jaehyun’s days were spent at the shop, anyway. He put all his efforts into keeping everything neat and being as attentive as he could muster, recommending the best toys for what the customers looked for. There wasn’t a single question he would not reply. At the end of the day, people felt comfortable to open up and listen, because there wasn’t anyone more patient and gentle-mannered than the sex shop’s salesman. And, obviously, comfortable customers made bigger purchases.

That was one of the reasons Haechan loved having Jaehyun as his employee. The other reason was Jaehyun’s looks. He was like an angel, with peachy skin, lively brown eyes, manly eyebrows and broad shoulders; Jaehyun was tall, soft and polite, cultured and humble. Haechan could not even guess how many people in town had a crush on Jaehyun, but he guessed the sales increase after his hiring was not a coincidence.

That day went by as ordinary: Jaehyun’s playlist was on in the shop — slow, melodic R&B tones that got the customers asking the name of the songs —, and a few customers arrived to check on new products. The sun was warm and life was good. Average, ordinary. Jaehyun liked it like an anchor liked to sit at the bottom of the ocean.

But when the bell on the door rang its premonitive chant, Jaehyun lifted his face to meet with the end of his peace.

You smelled like fading into sleep beneath the hot sun. Like an alluring adventure, a midday reverie. Orange-like, passionate, summerly. A scent so confident and strong he instantly knew that you were an alpha and that he liked you more than he ever wished to like Haechan. His heart, so candied, desired nothing but to be delicately held by your hands.

You did not look like most alphas, though. You were shorter than Jaehyun, with the average silhouette of a woman. Driven by details, Jaehyun registered the thin silver choker on your neck, from which small diamond stars hung; he took in how your hair crowned your face like moonlight made the night a thousand times more alluring. He looked into your eyes, sharp and dazzling, eyelids so long snowflakes could be captured in them. And the black, long jeans you wore? The oversized suit that combined your powerful aura? You had his knees trembling. Jaehyun stared in awe as you walked inside the shop, exhaling confidence and authority, running those unforgiving eyes on the shelves filled with vibrators, dildos and plugs, until they landed on him.

You tilted your head with a playful grin on your lips. “What’s wrong with your jaw?”

Jaehyun immediately closed his mouth without realizing he had opened it in the first place, his cheeks burning like flames on a stove. “I’m sorry, miss.” Sorry that you were so beautiful and it felt so right to just look at you — and that his mouth salivated at how gorgeously you messed with his brain. “H-how can I help you?”

Your gaze was analytical, cold even through the layers of playfulness. Only then he told himself that you were an alpha, and alphas were not to be trusted. How would he know you weren’t one of those hunters that tracked omegas and forced them into submission? Jaehyun had been lucky in hiding, but he knew most omegas had an unhappy ending. If you were an omega and an alpha caught you, you were sent back to the capital, and once you were there, you were forced to mate with someone your heart did not choose. It was a hideous crime against everything Jaehyun believed in, and he mentally thanked himself for taking his suppressants. That way, you wouldn’t be able to feel his scent. You would not even know he was an omega. Hopefully.

You stepped closer and closer, until Jaehyun could count the pores on your face. “I’m looking for a toy.” Your voice was velvety and calm, like a carpet that took him straight to the loveliest daydream.

Jaehyun nervously fixed his glasses. “Any preferences?”

“I like the flexible and potent ones. Extra points if they’re cute,” you replied, leaning on the counter — your scent, stronger with your proximity, could intoxicate his every blood cell. Why did it sound like he could be the toy you were looking for?

“W-we have this one, it arrived today,” Jaehyun was close to sweating as he handed you the new toy. “This end gives you clitorial stimulation. And this other end is-“

“Perfect for penetration,” you interrupted, using your fingers to explore the end that resembled the shape of a cock. “Does it thrust alone?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun's rosy cheeks embarrassed him further. “Excuse me, miss,” he politely pressed the button to turn the toy on, swallowing when you wrapped your lovely hand around the girth that started moving back and forth in a short, strong speed. He should not be thinking the things he did. God, he should not. “It has five different types of potency too.”

You nodded with a smile that only made you twice as beautiful, so much it was a scandal. “I’ll take it.”

Jaehyun proceeded to wrap the toy box for you, putting it inside the shop customized — but still discreet — bag. When you handed him your credit card, he quickly registered your name, and knew he had to say something else or he was going to regret his silence forever. “Are you new in town?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “I was transferred from the capital.”

“Really? What do you work with?”

“I’m a huntress.” Your honest reply almost made Jaehyun choke on his own saliva, but for the sake of his being, he did not. “You might’ve heard it. Rebellious omegas are moving to small towns, and the government is sending alphas to track them.”

Fuck. How Jaehyun was able to control the absolute agony in his face was even unknown to him. “So you’re an alpha, then…” he hummed as though he had not known.

“Yes,” you grinned like an angel holding a knife on its back, like a snake hidden in the bushes. “You’re not an omega by any chance, are you?” Your tone was mocking: you both knew the chances of an honest answer were low, in case he really was an omega.

“Human,” Jaehyun lied.

“I envy you. Human population is rising, and we are going down,” you sighed. “We wouldn’t, if omegas had the decency to face their destinies.”

Your words were like a sting in his chest. In true honesty, Jaehyun wanted to argue. To tell you what people called destinies was nothing but a way to both control and hurt omegas and alphas. He wanted to tell you what he thought: that omegas had suffered enough, seen as only useful for sex, to stay back home and take care of the kids and the housework while alphas, especially males, ran wild and free. Jaehyun wanted to tell you that your opinion was not only wrong, but violent. It made his heart ache, how you were part of the system he despised.

“I can imagine,” was all he said.

Your eyes held his gaze for a few seconds, as though you were trying to see through him, your nose trained to smell his lies. But you said nothing, accepting when he handed you the bag. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Jung. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m Y/N, but you already know that.” With a smile, you turned around to leave. When your hand was on the handle, Jaehyun spoke again.

“Miss, can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“We still don’t have reviews on the toy you’re taking. With due respect, if you could write yours, so we can anonymously post it, I’d appreciate it.”

Jaehyun did not know how he mustered the courage to ask you that. Just like he didn’t understand how he resisted falling to his knees when you chuckled, frank and gorgeous and just made for him.

“You’ll hear from me soon, Jaehyun.”

Hidden into the dark embrace of the night, you were supposed to delight yourself in its secrets and maneuvers, but it was quite the opposite.

A cold drop of sweat ran down your temple as you squirmed on the bed. Another nightmare. It was as though you smelled the metallic notes of blood on your nose, dense and undeniable, while your mother, lying on the living room floor, tried to push the pup. Your fifth brother.

“He’s not coming out,” your mother insisted, her face salty with excruciating tears and laboring sweat.

Coldly watching from the balcony, your father sighed as if every word coming out of her mouth was made of pure, overreacting drama.

That night, after ten hours of pleading and sobbing, your mother and brother died on the cold floor. A pool of thick blood spread on the rug, and you were once again haunted by how your father told you to get it fucking off his face and clean it.

You woke up with a scream in your throat, that you swallowed harshly as sweat dripped down your nape. That nightmare was more frequent than you would ever like, and it repeated from time to time.

There was no escaping from the things you had seen. There was no exit from the way of the world, how females were meant to breed and bring live to pups. It didn’t even matter if they were alphas, betas or omegas. No woman was safe.

Every day, you did what you did not to end up like your mother. As long as there were omegas to hunt, you were not going to be forcefully paired with a random man that seeked to impregnate you. You would rather hunt a thousand omegas than allow anyone to put a pup inside you.

Even the cute, polite omega you had met that afternoon.

Jung Jaehyun. A name like sugary on your tongue.

Who was he trying to fool with those sweet eyes? Those plush lips, charming dimples, shiny black hair and his soft voice? Who was he trying to fool with that bewitching attitude that flourished right from the courteous and respectful garden of his heart?

You had come across attractive omegas before, with eyelashes so gracious that even the brattiness in their mouths came out alluring and dear, but it was different this time. Your heartbeat had been singing a different melody since you entered that shop, hoping to find another prey that would offer you a pleasing, feisty hunt. However, even the thought of Jung Jaehyun soothed your nightmare’s side effects, helping you focus on the devouring need to bring him to your arms and give him the world. A need so brutal it felt visceral.

You wanted to show him how you looked naked. To see his jaw dropping again, and to show him the true meaning of warmth.

But you had a file on him, a long list of information: where he was born, where his parents lived, what money the government was going to pay you for his capture. You knew his background, a lovely child that wished to be a theme park designer, mom’s only child, the best in class. You also had the address of Jaehyun’s suppressant provider.

All that information was like having a rope around his neck, a rope you were close to tightening in a firm, definitive knot.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” you chuckled bitterly, using your own blouse to wipe the sweat away from your face, and staring over at the sex toy on the bedside table, the same you had used as your head guided you back to him. His eyes, his hands, his lips.

You knew better than to give your heart any indulgence. Jung Jaehyun was your prey, and you were going to hunt him down.

“So, how was your night? Found a lady to try the new toy with?” Haechan cooed excitedly as he welcomed Jaehyun into the shop the next day.

If Jaehyun could give an honest answer, he would say that he put his vinyl records on, from Frank Ocean to Cigarettes After Sex, lit a musk candle, and counted how many suppressant pills he still had — everything so his mind would not chase you in its eternal longing for romance and belonging. You were a huntress, which severely compromised your morals and sense of judgment. It was so mean of you to do what you did, and still, Jaehyun wished you'd be gentle to him. A type of gentleness that put him to sleep and blew sweet air on his lungs — a type of care that was absolute, inviting and nesting. He wished you could build him a nest, with things that smelled like you, and bury him in your arms after a rough day. There was nothing else in the world that he desired as much.

“Not actually,” Jaehyun scratched his nape softly. “I preferred to stay home.”

“Ah,” Haechan’s excitement shrinked with himself, and he seemed smaller behind the counter. “I didn’t succeed either.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?”

“I have not been in the mood lately, you know? Which is very weird, considering the way I am.” Haechan pouted, looking down at his hands. His sorrowful tone made Jaehyun come closer to rub his back in soothing circles.

“Don’t worry, Haechannie. We all have our phases.”

“What if it is not a phase? What if I have lost my libido forever?”

“So dramatic,” Jaehyun chuckled. “It won’t come to that. Give yourself time and be patient. You’ll feel ready again one day.”

Haechan nodded with slightly hopeful eyes, although his face still looked pouty. Slowly, his features allowed a bit of rage in. “What a shame! I need reviews for my shop and can’t even push myself to experiment with the toy I was the most excited about!”

Jaehyun mentally told himself to be quiet, but his empathy spoke louder. He couldn’t help it. Seeing people struggling was something he really hated. “We still can get reviews somehow, you know? I asked one of the customers that bought the toy to write us one.”

“You did what?!” Haechan stood up in shock. “Who did you ask?”

Jaehyun raised his hands in peace. “You don’t know her. She’s new in town. But don’t worry, Haechannie. I wouldn’t have asked her if she didn’t seem open.”

The owner seemed to calm down, but retorted suspiciously: “She’s probably into you. I bet she’s leaving a whole ass review with several details to make you think of her…”

“I don’t think so,” Jaehyun readily replied.

“Why are you always so humble, Jae? Don’t you notice the effect you have on others?” Haechan sighed, then analyzed Jaehyun a little closer. “Unless… Unless you’re interested in her, that’s why you asked!”

As much as Jaehyun admired his boss, sometimes Haechan’s cleverness really got on his nerves. “Stop saying nonsense!”

“Your ears are red. You’re definitely lying! Come on, tell me everything about her! New in town, you said…?”

Disconcertedly, Jaeyun removed his glasses and rubbed his eyelids. “I’m not talking about her. Please, respect it.”

Haechan was about to stick his tongue out at his employee when the bell on the door rang and they both turned around.

And just like that, the sensation of summer was once again in Jaehyun’s lungs, the smooth moves of your hair bringing the soft notes of oranges to his sensitive nose — and this time, as he awkwardly put the glasses back on his face, Jaehyun thought he was actually going to die, because you walked in wearing a leather jacket that matched your biker gloves.

You rode a motorcycle. It was just parked outside.

Holy shit, you were a fucking badass!

“Hi, Y/N!” Jaehyun was close to gagging, his ears turning twice as scarlet, like cherries. “How are you?”

“Hey,” you grinned gingerly, taking a moment to look at the young man right next to Jaehyun. “Perfect. You?”

“Fine. This is Haechan, he’s the shop owner. Haechan, this is Y/N, our new customer” he was quick to introduce you.

“Nice to meet you,” Haechan hummed in a tone that sounded almost like a seductive coo, which embarrassed Jaehyun a little.

“You have a lovely shop,” you smiled. “I just came back to tell Jaehyun I wrote the review.”

“Ah, thank you!” Jaehyun uttered. “You can send it to me and I’ll post it on our website asap!”

“With one condition,” you spoke, staring at him deeply. His eyes were sweet, but yours were menacing. “I’ll send it if you have dinner with me.”

Both Jaehyun and Haechan held their breaths. Your target blushed while his boss tried not to jump around in a supportive display of happiness, content that his reserved and discreet employee finally had the chance to go out with someone he was interested in.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was nearly shock-circuiting, wondering if you really wanted to take him out or if it was all a strategy for you to find out if he was an omega.

But what could he do against the soul crashing desire to be with you? What will did he have against his own instinct?

Denying you was not an option.

“Sure,” Jaehyun managed to reply. “I’ll be happy to.”

Taking Jaehyun’s suppressant provider down was easily risked off your list. Piece of cake. The man, a neat guy named Jaemin, offered little resistance when you knocked on his door, which led to you finding his hidden lab and the several suppressants he stored in the garage. Jaemin was quickly sent to jail right after.

Without suppressants, Jaehyun would be unable to hide his scent. He was probably going into heat too, when the time came; heats were usually so ferocious and ruthless he was going to give you all the evidence required to send him back to the capital as an omega. That was how you planned on catching him.

Of course, as you faced him at the lovely street restaurant, with candles burning on the table and the moonlight rays blessing your encounter, he did not know you already had planned his downfall from start to end. You pitied him. You pitied everyone. But it had never stopped you from doing your job.

“This is one of my favorites in town,” Jaehyun looked at the restaurant facade, with an angelic arch of light blue flowers surrounding the wood doors.

“Glad I picked the right place,” you replied, sipping on white wine. “How long have you been living here, if I may ask?”

“A little more than three years.”

“And are you happy?”

Jaehyun nodded without hesitation. “More than when I lived in the capital. Here, life goes by slower. There’s no traffic and the violence ranges are lower than average. I’m closer to nature too. I really like listening to the birds sing when I wake up.”

There they were again, his sweet eyes. His plush lips, charming dimples, shiny black hair.

Your inflamed desire to give him everything he could possibly have,

“Adorable,” you smiled. At that very moment, one of your colleagues, Taeyong, was breaking into Jaehyun’s house to get rid of his suppressants. Dinner had just been an excuse to bring Jaehyun out. Or so you liked to think. “I suppose you enjoy the people too, besides the lifestyle. Your boss seems to be a lovely boy.”

“Haechan?” Jaehyun’s eyes widened as he winded up some spaghetti on the fork. It caught your attention, how smooth and lovely his manners were in his structure, with long slender fingers and defined muscles on his arms. “He’s my friend, that’s all. But yes, he’s really cool.”

“It must be fun, working at a sex shop…”

He chuckled, looking exceedingly cute in those reading glasses, with a smile so pure and genuine you wanted to kiss him. It ached, being in his presence and knowing you could not make him yours, like a true alpha did to an omega.

“I thought so too, when I was hired, but now I just focus on helping people find what they want,” Jaehyun explained, seeming a lot more comfortable around you. He had barely touched his wine, so you could not blame it on alcohol. Maybe he was just a sweet and outgoing communicator. “It’s impressive how sex toys can assist us. They make couples grow closer and help people who are discovering what they like, and even those who are facing sexual traumas. I really like what I do, it makes me feel important.”

Shit. He was really adorable.

“What about you?” Jaehyun continued. “Are you enjoying the town?”

“Kind of. I love the capital, but it is nice here too.”

“Is the hunt going well? I mean, did you find any omegas?”

“None,” you replied, trying to suppress how his boldness surprised you. “They’re getting harder to catch.”

Jaehyun looked down at his fork. “Maybe… Maybe they don’t want to have a miserable life, you know?”

Softly, you clenched an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I mean, think about yourself. You’re an alpha. Aren’t there any responsibilities that come with the title that you wish you could avoid?”

“There are, that’s why I’m hunting,” you honestly replied, feeding from the curiosity in his gaze. “As long as I’m working, I won’t be needed in reproductive matters.”

Jaehyun’s eyes squeezed. “So you hunt omegas and send them back to serve the same matters you personally run from?”

“Hypocritical, right?” you hummed nonchalantly. “But it is them or me, and I’ve made my decision a long time ago.”

Jaehyun bit the inside of his cheek. How complex it was, to comprehend one’s motivation. “Do you really think that’s the only solution?”

“Well, if you have a better one, I’m all ears,” you tightened your eyes at him, chewing on a buttered rigatoni. “You have a very determined opinion, for a human.”

“I’m interested in social subjects. I think societies can be more equal and gentle.”

Of course he did.

“I bet that’s motivation for selling toys too,” you guessed. Alphas, betas and omegas tended to only have sex with their mates when they had the chance; if they had not found their mates, sex toys were the best substitutes, and offered some kind of relief. “Tell me, how many omegas have you attended lately?”

“Is that why you wanted to have dinner with me? Because you think I’m turning my customers in to you?” Jaehyun firmly replied.

“Not really. I can always use some help, but you don’t have to tell me. And relax, I’m not here to investigate you. The review was only an excuse for me to get to know you a little better.”

Jaehyun blinked behind his glasses. "Did you like it? The toy?"

“Yes, I was really impressed” your eyes analyzed him like a fox eyeing a distracted white rabbit. You leaned over, and he immediately pulled his face closer to yours, as if you were going to tell him a secret. “What I liked the most about it was that the thrusting end firmly stays in, like a true knot.”

If Jaehyun had any wine in his mouth, he would have spat it out. But he did not, and even then, the poor guy choked on his own saliva, coughing inside his closed fist as you pretended not to be entertained. You rubbed his arm gently, like you were not trying your best to have him crumble in awe for you. “Did I say anything wrong, Jae?”

“N-no,” he shook his head, tears filling his eyes. “I just swallowed saliva and it went wrong. I’m sorry, Y/N. I really imagine that’s a huge thing for an alpha.”

“It is,” you agreed while handing him a glass of water. Your eyes then averted from his face, landing only for a second on his jeans, where an imposing volume outlined the zipper. Much to your surprise, the sight of his hardness made you damp on your panties. Fuck. You were turned on too, and Jaehyun was going to smell it. Well, let him. “Feeling any better?”

He nodded, trying to keep his eyes sober as he detected your arousal, looking almost lightheaded as he grabbed his fork back and went back to eating.

When Jaehyun got home that night, he felt like he was going to explode. His heartbeat frantically jangled in his ears, his eyes blurred with overwhelming tears, his pants tightened with the fantasies of his lifetime. Unsure, his mind was like a matryoshka doll, with layers of thought unraveling as he tried to figure out whether you intended on seducing him to yourself or on capturing him as an ordinary, worthless prey.

You. You were going to be the end of him. And he was going to very much let you.

Minutes after he arrived, his cell phone screen lit up with a new email notification. You had sent your review.

In the speed of light, Jaehyun clicked on it.

“It's different from any toy I've used. Heavier, too. I was unsure the clitorial stimulation was going to work out, because the nozzle was larger than my clit, but it fit just fine. I just had to keep my lips spread. The clit sucking end feels like someone is really sucking on your clit, moving their tongue up and down. That alone would make an amazing toy. But the moment I slid the other end inside, it was mind-blowing. My walls immediately clenched, and the combination of the pressure with how my muscles squeezed the toy was stupidly good. It reminded me of the feeling of being penetrated for the first time. Worth every penny.”

Jaehyun tried breathing as usual, fighting against the sinful images of you all naked, with your glistening pussy tightening the toy as it thrusted inside you. He tried shaking away the thoughts of your body squirming on the bed as your clit was sucked and your legs shook, your irresistible face contorted in the sweet bliss and pleasure the toy offered you.

Bravely, he fought the painful desire to touch himself. Until he remembered you said the toy resembled a knot, and fuck, Jaehyun wanted to give it to you: to be inside you, locked in, tied to you until you were both satisfied.

His permissive hand traveled down his navel. Just a little relief wouldn’t hurt, would it? He could have some fun, alone, without anyone knowing…

The remaining pieces of morality injected some reasoning into his brain.

He grabbed one suppressant pill from his wallet and swallowed it down with a sip of water — the glass had shaken helplessly in his hand on the way to his mouth. With a quick look, Jaehyun noticed he only had another six pills. His heat, too, was close, dangerously now that you were close to him. Heats, he remembered with a shiver, could be triggered by the presence of a soul bonding alpha, and even if Jaehyun resisted the thought that you could be his mate, it was definitely time to refill his wallet.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the bedside table drawer. His heartbeat nearly stopped when he didn’t find the blister packs. Denying what he had already concluded, Jaehyun searched under his bed, in the bathroom cabinet, and even in the kitchen, but his pills were nowhere to be found. He knew what it meant.

As his heart cracked in more pieces than it was made of, Jaehyun knew you were hunting him.

“What do you mean Jaehyun isn’t here?” you clenched an eyebrow at Haechan, who pouted. He looked pretty much like a purry cat,

“He called in sick. Said he's got a fever. Was he well when you last saw him? You went on a date earlier this week, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, he sent me the review, by the way! Thank you so much, the details will definitely help.”

You couldn't tell if Haechan's words were mocking, or maybe he was just playful. “Not at all,” you hummed, leaving the shop without further conversation.

It was weird that Jaehyun had not sent you a single text after your encounter. Maybe he was too idiot to make a move after you told him about the knot thing, or perhaps he had found out that you were after him.

[Haechan just told me you're sick. Need anything?] you texted shortly after jumping on your bike to ride home. Your text was not delivered, much less seen.

Impatiently, you started worrying something had happened. You knew his address, but Jaehyun had never told you where he lived. Knocking on his door meant exposure. Shaking the idea away, you attempted to find distraction in a long bath that left your skin flushed, your fingers wrinkly like plums. Still, your mind restlessly played you like a chess, awakening your impulsiveness. What if Jaehyun needed help? What if he was sick indeed? What if he was…

Oh, so you did care about him.

“Screw it!” you resolved, readily standing up from the tub and leaving a trail of determined drops where you stepped, heavy and firm.

You rode as though you were late to a crucial event, your cheeks burning in touch with the cold breeze as your bike cut the night like a deadly knife in a birthday cake. In your ears, the beat of your heart musically revealed the bitter sensation of despair. Your plan was perfect. Jaehyun was perfect. You could not let him slip between your fingers.

However, when you got to his house and the lights were off, you knew he had.

He had run away from you.

For three days, you did not hear anything from Jaehyun. He did not leave a trace, not a merciful clue, as if he had never been there. The only connection between you and him was named Haechan, and his purry presence did not make those gut-wrenching days any less sore.

Every waiting hour left a bitter taste on your tongue. You walked on a tightrope, and emptiness was a blade that cut it thinner. Somewhere in the middle, you were unable to know if you wished to find Jaehyun to kiss or to torture him. All you knew was that you had failed both as a hunter and an alpha. You even had the hypocrisy to feel offended that he left, because, by leaving, he was denying you and everything you could be.

They said that when an alpha crossed ways with their omega, they felt like giving them the world. Like protecting them with the strength of their arms and the sharpness of their minds. It was what being a mate meant: a strong and undeniable bond, crafted by the angels of love and desire, to create roots so firmly into the ground that no one and nothing could stand between them.

You lied to yourself by thinking Jaehyun was all about the hunt. Deep inside, you knew he was far more than that. You knew your anguish and anger meant you hated that he was far away from you.

[No sign of him?]

[Not a shred.] Taeyong texted you back.

You wanted to scream, but decided to have a pistachio ice cream by the beach instead, angrily kicking the rocks with your feet as the sun shone — as though it had any reason to.

Where the fuck was him? Where the fuck was your omega?

How quickly you grabbed your phone after it vibrated on your pants pocket was insane. “Got any news?”

“Yes, Jaehyun’s back!” Haechan replied.

At daylight's speed, you ran to the shop. The purple shadows of dusk covered your hurried pace, legs burning all the way down the dark paths of your desire, your voice demanding under your breath when you walked in. “Where is him?”

Haechan readily got up, motioning for you to come with him. “In the back.”

Obediently, you followed him like a dog after a treat. It was only when you were inside the room where Haechan stored the toys that you noticed something was awfully wrong. However, you had no time to act on it.

Haechan had already handcuffed and locked you inside.

What happened next was something you would never imagine. The purry but also mischievous Haechan really commanded you around.

“You have to stay silent if you want to see Jaehyun,” he explained while blindfolding you. Needless to say he had already grabbed your phone and you were helpless, unable to call for help. Not that you would make a scandal, because now you were curious what that was all about. “I’ll drive you to him, but you have to behave.”

“When this is over, I’ll come to get you,” you growled, even though you did not mean what you said.

“Whatever.”

Humans.

It was night when Haechan led you to a car, putting you on the back and cuffing your ankles too. “Why are you doing all this?” You asked calmly. If Jaehyun had planned all that, you knew you did not need to fear. “Can’t you be civilized?”

Even if you couldn’t see him, you swore Haechan rolled his eyes. “I don’t trust you, Y/N. You’re mean and manipulative, and I’m just doing this because Jaehyun wants to talk to you. But I’ll do it my way.”

Exactly like you had suspected.

Much to Haechan’s delight, you managed to stay quiet for the whole trip. Not knowing where you were going to really bothered you, your instincts found such helplessness absurd, but you knew it was going to pay off if you saw Jaehyun again.

It took hours. And hours. But you finally arrived.

Haechan led you to what seemed like a house, and soon enough you were alone in a room, sitting on a chair. After a few minutes, your senses captured another presence, and the way your heart soothed told you everything you needed to know.

You felt some strange type of relief shivering down your spine, and said nothing. Let him speak.

“I hope the cuffs are not too tight. Are they burning?” Jaehyun asked, and you could have moaned at the mere sound of his voice.

“Oh, you made such a fool out of me… And now you’re trying to be gentle,” you chuckled sourly.

“I’ve always been gentle,” Jaehyun retorted. “But you were hunting me, and I’d rather make a fool out of you than fool myself.”

“I can’t make fun of that. Can I see, please?”

Jaehyun readily complied, removing the blindfold. You tried opening your eyes, but sunlight caught them unprepared. Slowly, as your eyes adjusted, you noticed Jaehyun was in an armchair right in front of you. He looked at you worriedly. His presence had you so focused you only noticed you were in a living room seconds later.

“What’s your plan now? Turn me in to the rebels?” you asked. There were illegal communities of beta and omegas who had rebelled against the capital.

“No,” Jaehyun said. “I want to talk to you. Omega to alpha.”

“All this for talking?” You nearly spat, a strand of your hair landing on your face.

Gently, Jaehyun leaned over to tuck it behind your ear. “I didn’t know how you were going to react, Y/N. You had all the power back then, and I needed to make sure I was not at risk. I told Haechan to be nice to you. I really meant no harm. I’m sorry about that..”

You breathed. “Go on. I don’t think there’s anything else I can do but listen.”

“I want you to listen openly. I know I’ve deceived you, but I really want us to get to an agreement. That’s why I brought you here.”

You let his words sink in, sure you looked quite ridiculous, all cuffed, unable to defend yourself. “Why, Jaehyun?”

His eyes almost faltered, but did not leave yours. “Because I like you.”

As if you were in middle school, your heart beat so fast it could have climbed up your throat. How silly it was, to be liked. To be adored, admired, to be wanted around. How stupid it was, to be responsive to one’s liking. To think you had finally found your mate after years of loneliness and pain, divided between who you truly were and who you could have been.

It was almost cruel, how Jaehyun messed up with the roughness it took you years to build.

His hands shook. Your scent in such a closed, small space was making it harder for him to think. “I’ve liked you since the day you first walked in the shop. I know you’re hurt by your own status, just like I have been, and I think I can help. Please, Y/N, let me offer you a different point of view. Let me convince you you don’t have to hurt others to be happy.”

“You lied to me. You and bloody Haechan.”

“You lied to me too. You’ve even stolen my suppressants, which is far worse in my humble opinion,” Jaehyun reminded you with the calmest of tones. “But I am here, ready to give you a second chance. All I ask is for you to give me one too.”

You simply stared at him. Your eyes resembled a sky that had both light and heavy clouds, with glimpses of sun and rain. An intrinsic inner battle. Finally, you acquiesced with your chin. “Go on.”

Jaehyun fixed his glasses before speaking. “I know I’m more than a pup maker. I have dreams. I want a good life, with friends I can count on, a life where I can be safe and have the same rights as anyone else. And if I ever have pups with someone, then it will be because we both agreed on it,” he breathed, sincerity dripping from his lips like wine. “That’s why I ran away and why I will not let you hunt me that easily. I don’t know what happened to you, but I’m sure life as a female alpha takes a heavy toll. Whatever you went through, you deserve healing. You deserve to be heard and validated, Y/N. It is not others that dictate how you should live. What you want matters.”

His entire speech was like seeds of roses planted in the confinements of your chest. “How we should live is beyond us,” you spoke skeptically.

“Only because you choose to believe so,” Jaehyun disagreed. “If I had, I would certainly not be here. If you do, you’ll see hurting others is not your only option.”

How could Jaehyun be so understanding, so forgivable, so lovely? How could he offer you a chance of redemption? It amazed you. Badly. You breathed every particle of the room inside your lungs, so deep it was the first time you smelled the musky, leathery scent coming from the man in front of you.

The suppressants’ effects… They were low. Almost non-existing.

Jung Jaehyun smelled like the rawest of desires.

“If I decide to trust you, what’s it going to be?” you asked, pretending you were not lightheaded.

“We leave here together,” Jaehyun proposed. “And I promise you’ll have all the safety you need by my side.”

Most alphas would have laughed at the perspective of finding safety on an omega, but you did not. You tasted it. How good it would be, to have someone you could rely on. Someone patient, strong, who added to your dreams and aspirations. Someone you could be yourself with.

Your eyes softened, your wrists relaxing inside the cuffs. “Let me go, then.”

“Do you really accept it?” Jaehyun carefully confirmed.

The air stood dense between you two, hanging like a sword on a wall, an icicle on the top of a cave, and also like a gentle caress coming from a waiting hand.

You nodded. “I do.”

He stood up and approached the chair slowly. As his hands uncuffed you, you paid attention to the slenderness of his fingers. His musky scent was messing up with your head, your veins pumping blood to your lower body, even though you resisted the natural urge to touch Jaehyun whole as he uncuffed you like a real gentleman would.

Once you were free, he gazed at the reddened skin of your wrists. In an act that apparently was beyond any reasoning, Jaehyun gently brought them to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to where the metal had left a slight burn.

Your lips shook with the force of your breath. The man was crazy, a soft freak and a lord all together. With every passing second, you wanted him more and more. Holding his silky gaze, you mustered a grin before abruptly grabbing the hair on his nape and pulling Jaehyun down to his knees.

His eyes widened in fear.

“You’re so fucking naive,” you scolded. “Next time, think twice before trusting an alpha. Not everyone is like me,” you let your grip loosen, helping him stand up once again. “Promise me.”

His pupils adjusted back into a soft gaze. “You scared me,” he admitted.

“That’s the idea. Promise me.”

“I promise. I’ll be more careful.”

It was what you wanted to hear. Slowly, Jaehyun’s fingers returned to the gentle, languid caresses on your wrists.

“I suggest you back off if you don’t wish to be claimed,” you sighed.

His eyes had darkened at your words, his Adam’s apple tensing as he pulled his hands away in a respectful manner. “As I said, I like you, Y/N. Genuinely.”

Affection was a new, alien thing to you. However, your instincts encouraged you to embrace it, even if at your own pace and time.

“We both have instincts that can rush things. I’d be careful,” you explained, smoothly brushing his hair back. How the silky strands slid between your fingers felt like touching the clouds.

“You’re scared of love,” Jaehyun concluded, making you smile frankly.

“Aren’t you?”

“No. I’d happily give myself to a good alpha if we loved each other. I believe in long-lasting, healthy relationships.”

Your smile faltered. “I don’t think the world is ready for that, Jaehyun.”

“I don’t need it to be.”

You averted your gaze to the window. There was a sunny road outside, with few cars passing.

Minutes ago, you decided to leave the house. Jaehyun took you to a car, an old yet functional Chevy Impala.

“Where’s Haechan?” you asked.

“In his parents’ house. He was born here.”

You hummed, getting into the passenger seat. “He won’t be coming back with us, I hope?”

“No,” Jaehyun shook his head, already in the driver seat. “Also, don’t be mad at him, Y/N. He didn’t know I was an omega until I found out you had stolen my suppressants. And as weird as it was, Haechan was very willing to help. We thought it’d be better to take you somewhere far away, because you’d have less advantages.”

“I might forgive him for a few things,” you cooed, then looked over as Jaehyun started the engine, his fingers grabbing the wheel firmly. “What about your suppressants?”

“I’ve got a few more left,” Jaehyun replied. “But since you stole all of my supply and Jaemin is probably in prison now, I have to be careful.”

“Didn’t have any luck finding another provider?”

“As if I’m telling you,” Jaehyun chuckled.

You laughed along. “It’s my job, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” his tone was slightly more serious now, as he drove through the peaceful streets. “What did you do before hunting?”

“My dad had a law office. I studied law too, but never quite liked it.”

“What do you like, then?”

You caught your breath, your voice two tones lower, almost inaudible. “Baking.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows lifted in sweet surprise. “Like, baking bread?”

“Baking cakes. I’m really good at it,” you admitted, looking down at your hands. You had always been ridiculed because of your hobby. Your father, brothers and sisters constantly accused you of wasting your time with such stupidities. Alphas were born for high power positions: politicians, lawyers, doctors, CEOs… But baking cakes? That was a job for omegas. The weakest of the weak. You were taught that, even if you did not fully agree. The only person who supported you was your mother, because she expressed her love through the awesome, homemade dishes she cooked. However, as your mom had passed and you grew older, you preferred putting your efforts into something more socially accepted than to perceive the distant dream of having a bakery — even if you felt truly accomplished whenever you looked at a cake you had baked.

“That’s so nice!” Jaehyun encouraged. “What’s your best cake?”

Your heart fluttered at his genuine curiosity, making you bite the inside of your cheek. “Pistachio.”

“I love pistachio!” the man cooed excitedly. “I’d like to try it if you're okay with it.”

“I haven’t baked in forever,” you mentioned.

“Well, you have time now that you don’t have to hunt me,” he chuckled.

As the morning turned into afternoon and the sky was outlined with purple clouds, you noticed Jaehyun had driven considerably. By the corner of your eye, you caught him yawning sleepily. Shifting in the passenger's seat, you hummed. “Let me drive for a little.”

“I’m fine.”

“You want me to trust you but can’t trust me?” you pricked.

Jaehyun fixed his glasses. Such a cute habit he had. “Well, you’re the deadly one.”

“What you did to me can easily be considered kidnapping, Jaehyun.”

“But you know it was not like that, right? I mean, do you feel kidnapped?” he asked to be sure, making you chuckle.

“People have done worse things to me. Come on, let me drive.”

“Don’t worry,” he insisted. “What worse things?”

“I might tell you one day.”

You waited for the purple sky to turn dark with sparkling stars. You waited for the breeze to turn colder. You waited until Jaehyun just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Get some sleep,” you encouraged as you changed seats, holding his cautious gaze. “It’s fine, Jae. Trust me.”

Stubbornly, Jaehyun fought his own tiredness even after you were driving. His eyes got swollen from tiredness, his yawns became more frequent, and he pinched his own cheeks in an attempt to stay awake for a little longer, as if he feared you were going to disappear if he slept.

But it was quite the opposite, because when he finally closed his eyes and peacefully slept on the passenger seat, you knew you never wished to stay away from him.

The flowers swayed with the wind, and so did his hair. Jaehyun had not remembered arriving to the fields, but we couldn’t care less about the reason: you were right by his side, and it was all that mattered. “These are beautiful.” With a grin, you leaned closer to smell an orange tree flower. The hot shades of sunset matched you like an artist’s masterpiece, Jaehyun thought while relishing in the image of you acting so free. He wished nothing but to let you be.

“Just like you,” he whispered, another lovely flower blossoming between his fourth and fifth ribs.

You straightened yourself, coming closer to him and swiftly removing the glasses from his face. Jaehyun almost forgot how to breathe with you so close, your orange perfume making his head spin, his fingers shaking in nervousness. Your face got closer, and closer, and then…

And then he felt a hand on his shoulders, shaking softly. “Jaehyun,” your voice called, but did not come out of the image in front of him. “Jaehyun, we’ve arrived. Wake up.”

Untangling himself from his dream, Jaehyun swore the oranges still smelled fresh on his nose, and that he could feel the temperature of your breath against his cheek. It was just wishful thinking, though, because you were sitting on the driver seat. It was dark night and the car was parked right in front of your house.

“For how long did I sleep?” he cleared his throat, relieved that you were both back in town.

“Not enough,” you replied shortly. “Take some rest tonight.”

“I'll try to,” he breathed. Oranges. Oranges everywhere making him crave you like the trees craved the rain to flourish. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“You can.” You opened the car door to leave, shivering when the piercing cold breeze hit your skin and thundered on your bones.

Extremely sensitive, Jaehyun jumped from the car and hushed to your side. Without a word, he removed his hoodie and handed it over to you. You stared in awe, eyes big with admiration and delight, as if he had achieved global peace or discovered the cure to every disease. “What’s that for?” you asked.

“I don’t want you feeling cold.”

“Jaehyun, I’m like, eight meters away from my door.”

“Eight cold meters.”

Slowly, you grabbed the piece of clothing. It was impossible that someone was that amazing and kind-hearted. You had never met anyone like Jaehyun before, and it made you feel something in your chest that was strange, foreign, almost agonizing. You could not name it.

You put the hoodie on in front of him, pretending not to notice his pupils widening at the sight of you wearing something his. The musk, leathery scent was all around you again, making you almost bounce on your feet out of excitement. “Thank you,” you murmured.

“Not at all.” His features suddenly changed, as though he remembered something. “Ah, here’s your cell phone,” Jaehyun grabbed it from his back pocket, and your fingers brushed when you took it in your hands. “Sleep well, Y/N,” was the last thing Jaehyun said before entering the car to drive to his house — only after you had come inside, of course.

You locked the door and pressed your back to it, closing your eyes as though you needed the dark and the silence to absorb everything that happened in the past hours. Jaehyun had maneuvered you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine, and it was both revolting and pleasing. How willing he was to just be with you, with raw sincerity in his eyes, shook you to the core. It made your bones soft and your resolve like water, flowing, delicate, transpassing obstacles.

Such a weak alpha you were, afraid to act on what you truly desired.

Because it was clear, once you pulled the fabric of his hoodie to your nose, that you wanted him. That you were meant to be.

That he was your mate.

What you felt on your chest, you then knew, was hope.

The next day, shortly after you woke up, your phone vibrated on the bedside table.

[Do you like picnics?]

[I do.]

[Great. I’ll pick you up at 1PM].

Punctually, Jaehyun knocked on your door. Punctually, you opened it, surprising him with two things. The first one was that he had never seen you dressed so casually, with high-waisted jeans, a plain black shirt and white sneakers, hair in a simple bun allowing the sight of delicate earrings hanging from your ears. The second thing was that you held a small tray in your hand, covered by a gingham cloth, that smelled precisely like pistachio.

“You baked? Seriously?” Jaehyun’s eyes widened, and he hid his gracious smile behind his hand, causing your heartbeat to quicken.

“If you’re going to act this fucking cute I’ll just leave the cake here,” you replied impulsively, unsure of how to deal with what sounded like praise.

“Please, don’t!” In a heartbeat, Jaehyun lowered his hand and straightened himself. Deep inside his chest bones, his heart fluttered. You had baked for him. “I just didn’t expect it. Thank you.”

You nodded somehow sternly. A little voice inside your consciousness blamed you for being so rigid.

“Come,” Jaehyun offered you a smile, stepping aside so you could follow him to the Chevy Impala.

“Where are we going?” you inquired.

“You’ll see.”

Surprises made you uneasy. As did not being in control. However, for Jaehyun, you made a little effort — you knew it was important for him to make decisions. Thankfully, it paid off, because the car rode all the way up the hills until it reached the top of a cliff. It was easily one of the most beautiful sights you had ever put your eyes on, something only the countryside could offer, with sunlight rays dancing with the velvety waves, the foam kissing the beach like a devoted lover’s embrace.

“What’s wrong with your jaw?” Jaehyun chuckled, making you notice your mouth was agape. You also remembered it had been the first thing you asked him.

“This is beautiful,” you commented, the corners of your lips lifting in a discreet smile.

“It is, right?” Jaehyun sighed. The breeze lifted his hair slightly as he grabbed a basket from the backseat, and a towel that matched the cloth on your tray. He then proceeded to spread the towel on the ground and remove the things he had brought: homemade sandwiches with cheese, pesto and tomatoes, strawberries and peaches, orange juice and a local brand of chocolate you had never seen. You joined him, placing your tray on the towel and removing the cloth to reveal a small pistachio cake covered in buttercream. It might have taken you hours to get it done. “Let’s eat!”

You crossed your legs on the towel, reaching for the sandwich while Jaehyun poured you juice. As you took a bite, your mouth was filled with delectable flavorsome layers that reminded you of your mother. The care in each slice of cheese, the carefulness in dosing the olive oil for the pesto, and the perfectly smoked tomatoes sharpened your taste, causing your eyes to water. Uncontrollably, you chuckled out of joy.

Jaehyun joined you, a face so pure and glad it seemed to shine like the ocean waves. He was just… Just so soft-looking you wanted to squish his cheeks and kiss his forehead. “What? Is it good?”

“It kind of… It kind of reminds me of my mother,” you replied, comfortable enough to share something so private it weighed like a pirate’s treasure in your chest.

“Really? Does she cook for you?”

You took another bite. “She did, when she was alive. I guess it was her love language. In fact, she was the only one who supported me baking.”

Jaehyun looked carefully at you. “I’m sorry. Losing her might have been hard.”

“The hardest thing I’ve ever been through,” you admitted, contemplating the ethereal sight in the harmonic horizon. It was only now that Jaehyun listened that you realized how badly you’d been wanting to talk about your mother, as if the filter between your mind and brain stopped functioning. How could you keep secrets from the only person destined to you? Mates shared. Mates understood. “She died while trying to give birth to my ninth brother.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen. That’s why I decided to work with anything that didn’t have to do with getting pregnant.” Your eyes, frank, held his gaze.

Jaehyun nodded, and said nothing for a while. “How many omegas have you hunted, Y/N?”

“About a hundred.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“It’s a heavy guilt to carry on my shoulder, but it does seem small in comparison to a lifetime being used for my body. I know it sounds hypocritical, and it probably is, but it was my choice,” you replied.

“I don’t blame you,” Jaehyun took a bite on the sandwich, using his thumb to wipe off the pesto at the corner of his lower lip. “It’s hard to see beyond the rules.”

“What about you? What’s your background?”

He took a deep breath. “I was born and raised in the capital. Went to a boy’s school. You know how alphas, betas and omegas had classes together, right? Since then I couldn’t understand why alphas always bullied others and got away with it. If I opened my mouth, I was arrogant and full of myself, but if an alpha spoke, he was powerful, opinionated, and influential. I was bullied a lot for just being me, you know? Of course I spoke back, so I was in trouble quite often, being threatened and stuff. My mom and dad were very supportive of me, we had to move a few times…”

Empathetically, you wondered what it meant for an omega to constantly move. They were highly adaptable, but sought for stability and safety.

“So when I heard that omegas were rebelling and moving to the countryside to build their own lives, I didn’t think twice,” Jaehyun concluded. “I’ve been happier ever since.”

“Your parents might be nice people,” you commented, reaching for a peach. “Do you miss them?”

“Everyday,” Jaehyun smiled. “I call them on a weekly basis, so we’re fine.”

“That’s lovely.”

“What about you? Do you keep in touch with your family?”

You shook your head. “I don’t speak to my dad. We’ve always been the perfect alpha family, but it came with a high cost. My mom was always pregnant, even when she was tired and getting too old to bear. Dad thought it was her job, and we did too. But now… Now I understand she suffered alone.”

The salty breeze gently touched your faces and clothes as you shared confidences. Jaehyun’s understanding soothed you. He made you feel at ease, like sharing your experience was natural and necessary. You liked it.

“You were just a kid, Y/N.”

“I know.” A small smile bloomed on your lips. “I try not to blame myself. All I want is to live differently.”

And that he understood. “I’d say the more we live differently, the more we show others that it’s possible,” Jaehyun said while slicing the cake.

“You’re not wrong.”

It made butterflies fly in your stomach when he chewed on the cake with a content moan, his eyes closing and his eyebrows furrowing at the delicacy in his mouth. When his eyes opened again, Jaehyun’s brown irises reflected light as if the sun had set within his soul.

There were no words to describe that day but lovely, dear and sincere. You had never been on a date with someone before, at least not one where you saw yourself free from the norms of your status. There had been no need for you to be aggressive or demanding, like alphas were portrayed, and instead of playing the role of the needy submissive omega, Jaehyun was just… Normal. Respectful, wise, and so cool you admired him as a person.

You spent the entire afternoon sharing stories, talking about hobbies — he told you about his vinyls and you told him about baking — and contemplating nature. Time by his side seemed to pass two times faster.

“Thanks for today, Y/N,” Jaehyun smiled once you were in front of your door. “Thanks for trusting me and giving me a chance.”

“Thank you,” you emphasized. “I really had fun. Next time is on me.”

At your words, Jaehyun’s face lit up. You reacted too, your heart beating so fast you shivered, nearly forgetting how to breathe when his scent felt suddenly stronger to your heightened olfactory senses. He got so excited with the idea of you meeting again that his scent exhaled twice as freely.

Even if you liked to think you mustered enough self control to resist him, your body surrendered to arousal in no time. You closed your eyes, clenching your hands into fists.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” You only registered Jaehyun’s worried tone before replying.

“You’re practically rubbing your scent on my face right now,” you admitted, aware that as an instant response, your pheromones started exhaling too, mainly from your neck and inner thighs. Your bodies functionated beyond your reasoning, blood running warm and fast, desiring to mate, to be tangled to one another. A biological necessity to be all over him, and to protect Jaehyun with tooth and nail. It was how scent glands worked, releasing pleasurable smells that expressed raw bodily and emotional needs.

Your eyes opened, trying to gather some control even though they were sedated by desire.

Jaehyun’s ears were once again red. “M-my heat is approaching,” he muttered. “And you’re close to me, s-“ Jaehyun stopped himself. Now, he smelled your scent twice as strong too, a scent that was alluring and dominant. Perfect for him. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he praised without noticing, mouth numb with craving.

Only God knew how badly you were trying to control yourself. “Go home, Jaehyun,” you said authoritatively.

“Y-yes“ he stuttered, cheeks as red as his ears. “I should, right?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded firmly. “If you don’t want me to mark scent you, you fucking should.”

Jaehyun nearly grunted, both because of your intentions, and because of how seductive your voice sounded when you cursed. “What if I want to?” He asked.

Motherfucker.

And you loved it.

“You’re aware that mark scenting you can easily trigger your heat, right? And that your heat can cause me to go into a rut.” You reached for his wrist, simply holding it in place. Ruts had a similar purpose to heats, to find a mate and breed, even if contraceptive methods could keep you from getting pregnant. “That isn’t a nice idea, is it?”

“It’s a perfect idea,” Jaehyun challenged.

“You’re playing with me,” you warned. “Even if I’m being nice and collected, I’m still an alpha. I can be dangerous, Jaehyun.”

His gaze pierced yours with the firmness of a grip, and you knew he was about to say something to break your resolve before he even opened his mouth. “What kind of danger my mate can possibly put me in?”

Snapping, your grip on Jaehyun’s wrist pulled him flush to you. Your chests collided and your breaths violently mixed before you grabbed the hair on his nape and tugged hard, tilting his head to the side. His exposed neck made you groan lowly, the musky scent directly wetting your undies. You had to mark him so bad it ached in your guts, and the moment you stuck your tongue out and gave a broad lick on his skin, your body shivered, your nipples hardened and your hip rubbed the volume in Jaehyun’s pants.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he trembled.

“Shh, quiet” you instructed, in charge, breath blowing against the wet trail left on his skin. “Just feel it.”

You lifted your weight on the tip of your toes and rubbed your neck against Jaehyun’s, warm skin against warm skin. Parents scented their children, friends scented friends, packmates scented packmates — but scenting between mates was a whole different thing, an encounter of souls wrapped in animalistic bodies. It felt like your soul was touched for the first time, as you left your scent on Jaehyun’s neck, marking him as yours, telling others that he belonged to you. And he felt it too, a sensation so deep in his guts resembling the coziness of an established home. As though he never had to move in his entire life. Ever.

It was so intimate you felt naked in front of each other.

Slowly, Jaehyun’s hands found support on your waist. The grip on his nape softened, and soon he was rubbing his face against yours affectionately, cheeks brushing in a loving manner that made you flush. His heat was closer than ever, but this time it was different: heats usually led Jaehyun to lock himself in a room, surrounded by sex toys, a slave to the basic needs of his body to mate and find relief. However, with you he felt… Shit, he felt loved and taken care of, and it only amplified his craving. It was better, it was whole. It was mating.

“I love this,” he admitted.

You grinned, letting your nails scratch his neck gently. His cute shivers widened your smile. “Me too.”

Jaehyun wet his lips with his tongue. “Can I see you again tomorrow?”

You could not precise how exactly you loved that he did not intend on having sex with you that night. It was so much better that way, especially compared to the expectations of sexually aggressive alphas taking their pleasure as soon as possible. His question meant that you could take your time, because there was no running and hiding. You’d be together time and time again, until it felt like the moment was right.

“You can,” you chuckled, and yet another alien feeling assaulted your heart.

You suspected it was called happiness.

Hours later, you got out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your body and the silliest of smiles on your face. The euphoria of finding your mate was real, so carved it could be felt in the flesh, like an iron bullet. Your heart, toughened by time, prejudice and rage, now opened its arms to enjoy a feeling so holy you could crown it as your favorite.

You had a mate. And your scent was on him.

You could still feel Jaehyun’s perfume on you too, and all over the hoodie you had kept by your pillow, to smell him again and again.

For the first time in years, you were soft.

“Whipped,” you accused playfully as you looked at your image in the mirror, wondering how Jaehyun was feeling at that exact moment. You wanted to know. So, without further thought, you grabbed your phone to text him — and you would have, if other messages did not steal your attention. Messages sent by Taeyong.

[We found an omega pack hiding in a nearby city from where you are.

We’re gonna need you to come with us, so backups were sent to help you with Jaehyun.

We’ll be there tomorrow.]

You swallowed thickly, your heart faltering, your hands shaking. It could not be. You could not let Jaehyun get caught. You could not lose him now.

Or maybe… Maybe you were being stupid risking your own life and position for… For love.

Taking a deep breath, you started typing.

[Appreciate that. See you tomorrow.]

Jaehyun was God’s favorite. He was God’s most loved child, because only he was allowed to step in Her fluffiest clouds. The luckiest man alive, one of the few creatures that experienced love’s fingers opening him inside out.

And oh, it was almost killing him.

He would do anything for you: walk for miles, cry for centuries, write your name in a paper for eternity... All the letters, time after time, carved in his wrists, his thighs, his bones. You were his and he was yours, as the lovely scent on his neck reminded him with each breath. Summer lived in him like it had never done before.

Now, he felt less judgmental of the omegas that craved for an alpha. Needless to say he was excited for what you’d do the next day after your date at the cliff, restless even, taking pleasure in the simple act of breathing, knowing you had left your scent on his skin.

Scent marking an omega really could trigger their heats, and Jaehyun knew that his was lurking dangerously, ready to flourish. The signs left no doubt.

Firstly, he desired a safe space: somewhere with dim lighting, where he could surround himself with objects that smelled like you — shirts, pillows, your leather jacket and biker gloves, and even plushies, if you ever agreed to give those to him. His senses, too, were twice as sharpened: a primal state of animalistic instincts blooming along his consciousness, to protect him from undesired alphas. His mind was slightly hazy as well, and even if he was excited for your third date, the cold, feverish shivers running down his spine worried him.

He couldn’t surrender to his heat. Not now. Not when he was so determined to make you understand he liked you not because you were an alpha, not because he desired you sexually and biologically. Jaehyun needed you to understand he liked you, wholly, for who you were.

So, when you knocked on his door the following day, he opened it with blushy cheeks, bouncing on his feet out of nervousness.

“Jaehyun?” your eyes tightened. You looked fresh, hair swaying with the breeze, orange trees offering him shadow, calm, and absolute hell all together. “Are you going into heat?”

He groaned in frustration. “Then it is obvious.”

You looked around before stepping inside, closing the door behind your back. “I got new suppressants for you.” You opened your palm, handing him one of the blister packs he was so used to.

Jaehyun stared down at your hand. Even if he wished his heat could wait a little longer, your suggestion felt like a crime, especially now that you were there, in his home, gorgeous and strong. Why should he hold back? Why did he have to behave now that he could finally let himself go with you?

“I don’t want it.”

You blinked, surprised. “Sorry?”

“I don’t want it, Y/N,” he repeated, lifting his gaze to yours. “We don’t have to suppress our instincts anymore. We’ve found each other.”

Your breath was long and strong, strangely raspy. “Take these, just this time.”

“What is it, Y/N? Are you scared you’re going to hurt me? That I will induce you into a rut?” Jaehyun stepped closer, cupping your cheeks with his hands and looking deep into your eyes, trying to understand. “Are you scared you’re going to get pregnant? I’d never do that to you, Y/N. We can use protection.”

You closed your eyes shut as though his touch hurt. When they opened, it felt like you were both begging and suffering. Jaehyun could feel his body combusting, his blood running faster, a thin layer of sweat glistening in his forehead. “Jaehyun, please, you have to believe me. Promise me.”

Your words made no sense.

“What are you talking about?” he asked with the softest of tones.

In one second, you had taken him down in a swift move. Jaehyun’s chest met the floor as you forced your knee painfully on his back, making him yell in surprise. His glasses slid down his nose to the floor. You took the chance to slide a pill inside his mouth, forcefully pressing the palm of your hand against his lips as he squirmed on the floor.

You… You were hurting him.

“Swallow,” you demanded coldly.

Out of fear, Jaehyun obeyed.

Why were you hurting him?

The metallic sound of handcuffs made his throat tight. It was hard to breath. Jaehyun looked over his shoulder, still slightly confused, his dear eyes vulnerable. He only fully understood what was happening when the front door of his house opened, and a male alpha looked down at him.

“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” the man chuckled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Piece of cake,” you stood up, placing a heavy boot on Jaehyun’s back to keep him in place. Even your voice sounded different, distant. “He was practically begging to be fucked.”

Jaehyun’s heart… It broke in tiny little pieces, like glass poured all over the floor. The evidence of a slaughter.

“What won’t they do for pussy, hm? You really thought Y/N was into you? So many others did too…” The alpha male approached him, grabbing Jaehyun by the arm and helping him stand up. You stood right by his side, with the most devilish smile on your face.

When in heat, omegas were not helpless creatures, defenseless, sex slaves that submitted to anyone. They were primal, violent, and almost as deadly as alphas. So, once he was back on his feet, Jaehyun snapped. He took the male omega to his knees with only one kick of his legs, hitting his temple with the force of his knee. The man fell on his side, using his hand to support his weight precisely on Jaehyun’s glasses. Then, Jaehyun turned to you, and oh, he wished he could hurt you. He wished he could bite you raw, to bury his teeth into your neck and have you killed, but he could not.

You were the worst person he had ever met, and yet Jung Jaehyun could not act as though he didn’t love you.

He fell to his knees, tears running down his eyes. “You…” he sobbed, eyes wet with crystal salt. “You’re awful.” And evil, and mean, loathsome, disgusting, vile… All those things you were. But Jaehyun couldn’t speak. His throat hurt.

The male alpha stood up with a grunt, and was about to retaliate when you raised your hand.

“What use is he if you damage his body? We’ve already got what we need, Doyun.”

The blurriness in Jaehyun’s eyes did not allow him to fully visualize how his capture went. He felt strange hands on his back. He felt someone kicking him inside a car, and knew that someone started driving, leaving the town behind.

You were not there anymore.

Jaehyun had heard stories about omegas that were sent back to the capital. The hunters drove them to specific centers to get them tested and check their fertility levels. Said omegas were constantly watched, sleeping in cold cells until they were designated an alpha who matched their characteristics. However, even with the best attempts to match compatible alphas to omegas, it did not work out. It was not unusual for alphas to get hurt after trying to touch omegas: some were bitten like dogs, others scratched so deeply their skin bled, and others even carried scars, forever imprinted in their bodies. So, naturally, omegas were tied up while mating.

It was no different from rape.

Jaehyun wondered how you could have done that to him, just like you did to a hundred other omegas.

It was raining like it usually did in the capital, droplets falling through the skyscrapers, painted red, yellow and green from semaphores, shining neon on outdoors, as people went by as if nothing was wrong. Rats ate at the garbage in the sidewalks, the poor begged for food, and young girls and boys sold their sensuality at the corner of the streets, hovering seductively at the drivers who stopped at a red sign. Without the assistance of his glasses, the capital just looked darker than a nightmare, blurred and agonizing.

Jaehyun held back his tears. They were hard to swallow.

At least, the suppressant heat pill you had made him swallow was like a blessing.

But fuck you. Fuck you a thousand times!

He was never going to love again. Jaehyun was never going to be such an idiot. Such a naive fool.

He breathed hard under his nose, calling the attention of an alpha male that kept an eye on him. This one was smaller than the guy Jaeyun had kicked, with big doe eyes and blue hair.

“Hard time?” the man asked.

Jaehyun did not reply.

“I’m Taeyong,” the man insisted.

“Why would it matter what your name is?”

“Ouch,” Taeyong hissed. “It matters a lot. You’ll see.”

Jaehyun remained silent. He merely shifted on the seat, muscles tense and uncomfortable as his arms stood cuffed behind his back.

A few minutes later, the car came to a stop, then proceeded to enter an underground garage. The driver, another alpha Jaehyun had not seen until that moment, jumped out before opening the back door.

“Get out, loser,” he commanded, and Jaehyun had no choice but to obey.

He was given white clothing — plain shirts, pants, socks and sneakers —, that he wore without a word. Then, Jaehyun was taken to a room where a female alpha asked him a few questions. Did he have any diseases? When was his last heat? Was he sexually active? Was he on suppressants? Generic or branded? Did he ever take a fertility test?

Jaehyun answered honestly, speaking calmly even if he had the worst headache, caused by the lack of his glasses. Whatever he said, he knew tests were to be taken to either prove or deny his words.

The female alpha took notes and handed Jaehyun a paper. “You’ll be taking medical exams tomorrow. Please be aware of the requirements.”

Next, the guards took him to a cell, neater than his imagination could muster, with a single bed and a small bathroom he could use. Fucking government money. While the poor suffered and starved, the government raised buildings like that one, keeping them clean and equipped.

One of the guards brought Jaehyun dinner, some stew with vegetables, and a plastic glass filled with grape juice. Jaehyun did not touch it, even if his stomach growled.

“You better eat on your own before I have to force you,” the guard warned. They both knew a meal was necessary for his medical exams to come out with correct results.

The last thing Jaehyun wanted was any type of violence. So he ate, even when his throat was so tight he felt barely like breathing. He ate obediently, like every omega stereotype he fought against.

When the sun rose and he had barely closed his eyes, Jaehyun was taken to the medical wing. Every detail screamed such hygienic excellence he wished to vomit on its torturing, endless whiteness.

The nurse took his blood. His urine.

“We’ll need your sperm now,” the nurse explained as he guided Jaehyun to a separate room. He was an omega too, a young boy. “What scents do you feel the most attracted to?”

A scent like fading into sleep beneath the hot sun. An alluring adventure, a midday reverie. Orange-like, passionate, summerly.

“None in particular.”

“It will be better if you collaborate, honey. You smell like oranges, but I sense it is a scent that doesn’t belong to you. Would it work for you if you smelled it?”

Jaehyun’s heartbeat quickened and his knees seemed to pull him down. It was sad, how he had lost hope in himself.

Looking at his feet, he nodded.

The nurse opened a wardrobe that contained several rows of perfume bottles, all labeled with their respective scents. “I’ll apply some on you, and then you'll have some privacy. Just make sure to cum on this flask. Later, you can immediately take your suppressants, to stop any heat trigger.”

The flask weighed like nothing on Jaehyun’s palm. “Why do you do this? he asked the nurse.

“This what?”

“Why do you help the ones that violate you?”

The omega’s eyes clenched in confusion. “It’s our role. God made us this way, didn’t He?”

Jaehyun wanted to say God was nothing like that. God was something else.

Something that reminded him of orange trees.

The exams told no lies: Jaehyun was highly fertile, with a concentrated sperm that promised many and many pups to aid the population. That meant he had to be paired with a mate as soon as possible.

After two days in that cell, the guard came to take him out. “Time to meet your mate.”

So that would be it. Jaehyun was going to be matched with an alpha he had never seen before. Someone who was not you. He swallowed harshly as he stepped out of the cell, joining the guard on the way to the elevator. Every step he took towards his destiny ached.

And then, he heard a familiar voice. “What are you doing, huh?”

“Ah, Taeyong!” the guard exclaimed. “Is anything wrong?”

“Yes. The test results for this guy are wrong. Some confusion was made, you see. I have to take him back to testing,” Taeyong explained. “Mister Park’s orders.”

The guard politely stepped aside. “As you wish.”

“Come,” Taeyong hummed, placing a hand on Jaehyun’s nape to guide him over the elevator. But, at the last minute, Taeyong looked over his shoulder to make sure no one else was watching, and quickly pulled Jaehyun towards the stairs down to the parking lot. “Come on, we gotta be fast.”

“Fast for what?” Jaehyun asked.

“For escaping, dumbass.”

Wide-eyed, Jaehyun tried to listen to his intuition. He didn’t want to be naive again, and Taeyong was an alpha… But anything seemed better than to walk back and be paired with someone he did not love. So he did as Taeyong said, rushing to a black car and sliding into the backseat.

“Lie down. You can’t be seen,” Taeyong instructed as he sat on the driver’s seat.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere that’s better for you.”

Jaehyun lied down quietly as Taeyong drove. The car took a few turns left and right, getting to what seemed like a highway before Taeyong spoke again.

“You can sit down now.”

“Can you tell me what the fuck is going on?” Jaehyun demanded.

“I’m taking you to the rebels.”

“The rebels? You mean omega rebels?”

“And alphas, as I am clearly. It's my job. I rescue omegas.”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“I think you’ve had enough jokes,” Taeyong chuckled. “You can chill, Jaehyun. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Is Y/N a rebel too?” Jaehyun breathed hesitatingly. Your name burned in his tongue. His brain clenched in a mantra: Tell me she is. Tell me she is. Tell me she is.

“The best of our kind,” Taeyong grinned. “You didn’t think she was actually letting the bad guys take you, did you? It might have seemed so, because it took me more days to rescue you than I planned. I’m sorry, but it was really risky to take you out earlier. I need to take care of my reputation, you know? And Y/N is surely going to murder me the minute she knows I could not keep you from getting tested. Shit.”

Hopelessly, Jaehyun started crying. His sobs were like heavy clouds making it rain in his heart. He didn’t know he was crying because he wished to believe Taeyong, or because he already did — because, if it was true, if you really were a rebel, then you were perfect. Then you did everything in your will to give him a way out. Then there was a chance your love for Jaehyun was real.

“W-what, are you-” Taeyong frowned. “Don’t cry, man, I’m sensitive to others’ feelings.”

“I thought Y/N hated me,” Jaehyun sobbed.

“She’s crazy for you. She’s saved omegas before, and some even fell in love with her, but it was never reciprocated. When she knew the hunters were coming for you, she asked for my help, and here we are.”

And just like that, Jaehyun’s was God’s favorite again. “When can I see her?” he quickly wanted to know.

“It might take a few days. She was selected for a mission in a nearby city, so she’s gotta be careful now. I’ll let her know you’re safe when we get to the headquarters, okay?”

It was hardly okay. Jaehyun had been impotent and despairing for the past days, because he believed tooth and nail that you were the worst person ever. But now, your love for him made him feel empowered and ready to fight against whoever got in his way. He could not simply sit down and wait for you. He had to be with you. Ferociously.

“I have to see her. Please, Taeyong. Take me to where she is.”

Taeyong chuckled apologetically. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I only take orders from your mate.”

You stared at Jaehyun's glasses, bent to your feet, the lens shattered in the shape of a cobweb where his happiness once shone. It was the grammar of your despair.

He had said that you were awful, and even if you hoped he was going to soon understand why you allowed his capture, that word stung like an unbearable twinge of pain right in your heart. Seeing your mate hurt and pretending it did not bother you was easily the hardest thing you had ever done, and although your fingers itched to light the world on fire to save him, you knew only patience and discretion were going to offer Jaehyun a way out.

You trusted Taeyong. He was your best friend. He was going to keep an eye on Jaehyun while you played your role in another hunt.

Sitting speechlessly on the passenger’s seat, you pretended to listen to Doyun’s precise instructions on how the hunting would go. Other two alpha hunters you met quite well were in the backseat: Jeno, sharpening his knife with repetitive moves, and Johnny, who still had his knuckles red from a previous hunt. From all three, Doyun was the colleague you trusted the least — and much to your dislike, he was in charge of the operation.

“We’ll act fast and be done with it. These omegas offer almost no resistance,” he cooed before his eyes landed on the glasses on your thigh. “What’s that for?”

Like a good alpha, you took care of your omega’s belongings.

“A victory statement,” you lied.

It took about an hour until you arrived at the nearby town, the paddy wagon smoothly driving through the suburbs. The minutes before a hunt started were always rough on you. Those people had lives of their own. Parents, friends, mates and children. Hobbies. The laws that separated you from them were as blinding as a fog. They did not deserve the suffering. The humiliation.

The sun shone in deadly sparkles of orange.

Doyun parked in front of an ordinary house. At his command, you all left the car, quickly following behind as he broke inside, coming across five different faces startled in fear: a middle-age couple, with an alpha male and an omega female, and three kids.

Fuck.

“Oh, look at what we have here,” Doyun chuckled under his breath, smoothly removing the knife from his hip. The blade shone like crystal water under the sun. “Such a beautiful family… What a shame it will be to hurt any of you.”

The kids hid behind the mother, tugging on her dress. You first noticed the bite on her neck, where the alpha’s teeth had sunk to make her forever his — then, your eyes slid down to her tummy, shaped a little rounder underneath the fabric. “Please, leave my kids and wife out of this,” the male begged. “I’ll go with you if you promise they will be safe.”

Your stomach turned over nauseously. “Doyun, they already have kids. Let them be,” you argued.

“Why?” He looked at you like a snake would look at a mouse. “They’re probably hiding the omega pack, Y/N. We need to make them speak.”

“They are mates and she is pregnant. Anything different from leaving them alone is pure masochism.”

“You’re softer. Is it because of that omega? Does he really mean something to you?” Doyun swiftly aimed the blade of his knife at you. “You haven’t been hired to care, Y/N. You’ve been hired to act. You better remember that.”

You held his gaze strongly, even when he stepped so closer it reverberated in your bones like a threat. Your blood boiled red.

“Jeno, you grab the kids. Johnny, take care of the man,” Doyun commanded, looking over each one of you until his eyes bore into yours one more time. “The woman is mine.”

Perhaps it was your love for Jaehyun that spoke louder, but this time you could not tolerate any more bullshit. Deep in your guts, it just didn’t feel right to allow alphas to wander as a crown made their heads weigh. As others owed them unconditional respect, a respect they did not own. Every person who was thought of as being of a lower class, as though they only existed for others’ pleasure and use… It was Jaehyun’s face you saw when you looked at omegas.

Any move from your side could easily destroy years of disguise and fakery, of hiding behind the mask you intended on using to protect Jaehyun, but you knew your priorities now. You knew that, in order to support your mate, you too had to be yourself.

The alpha that liked baking. The woman that fell in love with a rebel soul.

Clenching your fist, you tilted your head and grinned softly. “You fucking wish.”

How quickly your hand came for his cheek was even beyond you, the impact so powerful your fingers snapped. Mixed with the sudden pain, Doyun’s surprise was the perfect opportunity for you to kick the knife off his hand before he could retaliate.

And retaliate he did, throwing you against the wall. The shock of your back against it made you hiss, but the sound was cut short when Doyun wrapped a hand around your throat. A clean kick of your boots between his legs was enough for him to let you go, coming to his knees right in front of you.

For a moment, you crossed eyes with Johnny, who was already taking the family outside to the car, to take them somewhere safer.

Jeno, on the other hand, simply stared at the door frame as confusion munched longly at his features.

When you blinked again, the knife you had kicked away had caused a sharp, deep cut in your thigh. You hissed and stepped back in pain, your breath fast now that blood soaked your jeans, warm and red.

“I’m taking you back to the capital, Y/N,” Doyun’s smirk was perversely mocking. “They will make a fantastic breeding bitch out of you.”

Your entire body burned like a merciless fire. With one certain move, your fist collided with Doyun’s jawline, causing an awful sound echo through the walls.

You knew how jaws sounded when they broke.

Looking over at Jeno, you hummed in deep breaths. “Are you a good boy, Jeno?” He nodded, in awe. “Then, help me with this motherfucker.”

Doyun offered little resistance when Jeno lifted him up. Even his kicks and punches were a mere attempt as he had one of his hands trying to hold his dislocated jawline in place, teary eyes big with the pain. Never before you had seen him so defenseless. It made you proud.

You met with Johnny outside. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re hurt.”

Only now you noticed your blood was drawing an exposing trail on the floor. “I think my disguise ends here,” you chuckled dryly.

“Probably, but we do have more important things to tend to now,” Johnny retorted.

“Care to stitch me up before I drive?” you asked, making him frown.

“You’re driving? Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good id-”

“My mate needs me,” you interrupted. “I can’t make him wait longer. Can you keep the family safe?”

“Absolutely,” Johnny nodded. “What about Jeno?”

Looking over as Jeno locked Doyun inside the back of the paddy wagon, you breathed. “I’ll take him with me.”

“So you’re a spy?” Jeno asked in the back, as he made sure to watch Doyun, who was cuffed to the seat and sleeping peacefully after you had punched him in the head. You were not going to drive with him trying to speak all the way to the capital.

“You can say that,” you said while driving, hissing low whenever you had to use your leg. Even with Johnny’s skilled stitching and the painkillers, it hurt like hell. “At least I was until earlier today.” Now, you were just a rebel. Out in the open.

“And Johnny too?”

“And Johnny too.”

“Holy shit, you’re really good!” His surprised tone nearly made you chuckle.

“There is always space for new people, you know,” you encouraged, looking at Jeno over the rearview mirror. “You have a good heart, Jeno. You can work for a better cause.”

He looked down, a lonely strand of his black hair falling onto his forehead. “I don’t know… I think I’d easily get caught.”

“We all think that at some point. Then, we just get used to it.”

Jeno spoke no more. You too preferred to stay silent.

Every mile you drove meant a mile closer to Jaehyun. You could not wait to get to him. To finally let your arms embrace his sweet body.

A small red sign that twinkled by the steering wheel called your attention. Shit. You were running out of gas. “Jeno, I’m stopping to fill up. You keep an eye on Doyun for me, okay?”

Thankfully, you stopped at a gas station minutes later, quickly jumping out of the wagon. You were about to pay when Jeno called you. “Y/N, can you get me some snacks, please?”

“Sure. Anything in particular?

“I like shrimp crackers.”

And so you grabbed some at the convenience store, as well as bottles of water to keep you and Jeno hydrated. It was going to take another two hours until you reached the capital, and you had a feeling it was going to seem like twice the amount of time.

As you approached the cashier, you noticed small, lovely cakes placed around the line, and a specific flavor made your heart flutter. Those pistachio cakes were not to be compared to yours, but they could be a perfect small treat for Jaehyun. For when you would meet again.

Influenced by sweetness, your eyes lifted from the cakes to the glass door that faced the station. It was only then that you noticed Jeno was outside the wagon, with Doyun by his side.

Doyun had a gun in his hand.

Everything you held in your hands fell to the floor at the same time the bullet pierced the glass — and by then, you were already on your fours, searching for a way out. Another gunshot was heard as you rolled to your right, noticing a back door at the other side of the store. You ran to it in no time, as fast as you could even when the wound in your leg pulsated, and frantically looked around, searching for a way to escape.

There was an old man talking on the phone by his bike, and you did not think twice before pushing him aside. “I’m really sorry,” you apologized while grabbing his keys and phone, jumping on and starting his bike as if your life depended on it.

Well, it did.

One final time, you looked over your shoulder to witness both Jeno and Doyun behind you. A last shot was heard.

As you rode, the bullet in your shoulder bled through and through.

The headquarters were nothing like Jaehyun expected: less like separated buildings where the rebels hid, and more like a normal city, where people lived commonly. The only difference was that the only way inside was through a tunnel that was watched nonstop, certain as the sun came back every day. “The police are on our side,” Taeyong explained. “It’s safe.”

Jaehyun saw omegas, betas and alphas living so freely it even surprised his own expectations. Omegas worked as police officers, betas were teachers, and he got a glimpse of an alpha taking his kids to the local playground.

That place was everything he had ever dreamt of. And you were part of it.

“This is Y/N’s house. Like, her real house. She has an apartment in the capital too, for disguise purposes,” Taeyong hummed after he parked in front of a simple one floor house, even if Jaehyun knew to whom the house belonged to even before the alpha had said one word. The entire place smelled like you. “She told me to bring you here.”

Jaehyun grinned widely. God’s clouds all over his head again.

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

“It’s fine. Again, I’m sorry for taking longer to come and get you.” Suddenly, the alpha’s face lit up. “Ah, here, Y/N told me to buy you these.”

New glasses. Almost identical to the ones he previously had.

Taeyong left Jaehyun on his own after that. With the keys in his hands, the omega breathed deeply, looking around carefully, and recognizing you in the small details: the pictures of your mother on the wall, the resistant plants, the bakery books on the shelves, and the kitchen utensils that were worn out by how many cakes you had baked.

Jaehyun did not know it was possible, but he felt so much more in love with you his eyes teared. It was like digging deep into his being and sleeping in the calmest nest of his thankful wishing. Slowly and without noticing what he was doing, he started gathering small items that brought him comfort. One of the pillows on your bed, your hairbrush, a silky black gown you probably wore for sleeping in the summer, and a pair of your biker gloves. Jaehyun lied down on the bed with all those items nested inside his arms. His eyes closed to dream of you.

It was already night when his eyes opened again. Your scent, rawer than ever, came from the window as rain suited the neighborhood like a hat. And it was violently metallic.

After throwing your phone in the road and grabbing the one you stole, you called Taeyong and sent him your localization. The bullet in your shoulder hurt more excruciatingly at each passing second, but it was not enough to keep you from your final destination. You rode through the setting sun and the first clouds that gathered in the darkest shades of gray. You rode through thunder and lighting. Through the heavy summer rain.

When you got to the tunnel, you broke down in Taeyong’s arms.

Even though your ears understood every word your friend told you, because you automatically nodded in acknowledgement, your mind was too busy to make a full idea of what he said. The only thing you fully got, between delirium and the wetness that soaked your muscles, was that Jaehyun was safe.

Then, Taeyong took you to the hospital. You allowed it only because you did not want Jaehyun to see you injured. It would be a sin to scare him.

Similar to blank pages on a diary, the next hours were numb and almost imperceptible to you. Most of the time, your eyes remained closed out of tiredness, your body claiming its need to rest after the adrenaline flood in your veins. But a few things you remembered.

Taeyong was right next to you as the doctor, a young female omega, gave him instructions. “It will only cause more damage if we remove the bullet, actually. Her body will just surround it with a scar tissue and wall it off, but we should give her painkillers for a few days.”

You groaned on the bed, feeling a little more sober now, as you even registered the raindrops hitting the ceiling. “All of them, please,” your voice came out hoarse and exhausted. Much to your relief, you had already been medicated.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Taeyong leaned over.

“I’ve been worse,” you replied.

“We’ve sterilized your wounds, miss,” the doctor explained. “The bullet in your shoulder isn’t fatal, so the best thing to do is to leave it there. It’d be more dangerous if we tried to pull it out.”

You nodded in agreement. “If you say, I don’t mind it.” Your eyes slowly opened to meet Taeyong’s. “Where’s Jaehyun?”

Your friend smiled in amusement. “At your house. I didn’t want to call him.”

“Good,” you nodded.

In perfect timing, your face turned as soon as the doors were open, only to land on a very familiar face, one that you would recognize amongst a million. Your person was right there, soaked in rain, dripping on the hospital room floor, and he was smiling. Jaehyun was smiling through the droplets that fell from the black strands of his hair. So beautiful he could lend a bit of his beauty to every man on earth and still be the most handsome.

“Y/N,” oh, his voice… His beautiful, deep voice opened every curtain of your body, letting the sun shine through. Like a vice, his musky scent calmed down your heart.

You opened your arms to him, and the moment Jaehyun hugged you was like the weight of the world was removed from your shoulders. He was wet and cold, but also so warm that the greatest bonfire could not compare. The firmness of his chest against your breasts, his breath against the curve of his neck, his gentle fingers removing the hair from your face, strands that stuck to your skin due to your salty tears.

“Are you alright?” you sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Jae. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, don’t. Please, Y/N, I know it,” he looked into your eyes reassuringly. “Taeyong told me everything. I know. You don’t have to feel sorry.”

Your tears fell down your cheeks like waterfalls as you rested your hands on his elbows.

“Are you alright? Do you need anything?” he asked.

“Yes. Stay with me.”

You did not have to ask twice. Jaehyun was never leaving your side.

His hand held yours long after the nurse and Taeyong had left. “You should sleep, Y/N. You went through a lot,” he advised, letting the tip of his fingers tug your hair behind your ear.

“Why sleep when I finally have what I want? Two days waiting for you felt like an eternity,” you admitted, your voice low and serious. “They might have been rough on you.”

Jaehyun both nodded and brushed the tip of his thumb against the surface of your hand. “They were, but I suffered the most because I was heartbroken. I get it, though. Why things went the way they did.”

“I thought I was going to protect you for longer if I kept my identity, but it’s all over now,” you sighed. “I should have ran away with you when I had the chance.”

“You didn’t know, Y/N. It’s okay.”

You looked into Jaehyun’s eyes the most sincerely, squeezing his hand into yours. “Do you forgive me, Jae?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” The kiss he planted on your forehead felt like a mating bite. Like true, eternal love.

For two more days, the doctor insisted that you stayed under observation. Gratefully, your wounds seemed to act quick in the solemn act of healing, as bandages were constantly changed by Jaehyun’s delicate hands, so smoothly you only felt slight tickles when his fingers applied the prescribed ointments.

In moments like that, you felt blessed that your mate took care of you like you intended to take care of him, regardless of your status. Alpha, omega… It didn’t matter. You were both responsible for each other.

Also, you thrived like a cherry blossom in spring whenever he tended to your needs.

“You mate might have magical hands. Your wounds are almost fully dry, miss,” the doctor grinned when she came to last check on you.

Instead of bringing any biological or scientific explanation, you simply nodded. “Does it mean I’m free to leave?” you asked excitedly.

“You are, with the condition that you keep the exact treatment you’ve been doing here for seven more days.”

“You have my word,” Jaehyun spoke, looking bright like a winter night behind his glasses, and with a frank, happy smile on his lips.

An hour later, you left the hospital with your hand in his. The day was warm, the sky a lighter shade of blue as a few clouds played in the open. At the extreme and joyous brightness, your eyes tightened, and Jaehyun immediately used his free hand to hover over them.

You were going home.

Your house exhaled the lustful aroma of orange fields even more now that you were back to it, your pheromones and scent prominent like you were intentionally marking your territory. To Jaehyun, it was overwhelming, his sensitive nostrils addicted to every breath, his hands shaking from how badly he was trying to control his needs, taking suppressants to muffle any chance he went into heat. It was only going to distract you from healing, anyway, and no matter how he liked to think you were both safe, Jaehyun still feared alpha hunters would suddenly appear.

So he did what he thought best and played it safe. He cooked for you — your favorite dishes constantly on the table —, cleaned your wounds and slept with you, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead with every goodnight. Everything in those days felt comfortingly domestic, so much that Jaehyun knew, like the tree branches knew how to grow, that he could live days like that for the rest of his life.

“I haven’t been able to decorate the house with flowers in ages,” you sighed, eyeing the empty vases around your living room. “We should go on picking some today.”

“Isn’t your leg hurting?”

“Oh, this?” You chuckled, rubbing the stitches on your thigh. Summer had gotten so scorching you finally decided to put on shorts instead of pants, allowing Jaehyun to see more of you. “Looks uglier than it hurts.”

“You wouldn’t be ugly even if you tried your best, Y/N. Not a single part of you.”

There they were again. The reddest ears you had even seen.

“Sweet,” you praised with a peck to his dimpled cheek. “Let’s go!”

It was only when you arrived at the fields that Jaehyun realized your idea could not have been better. It was a perfect day to pick flowers, and even if he missed the town where you two met, the fields at the secret city were just as beautiful. Peonies, orchids, sunflowers, roses, lilies, and several sorts of plants grew over the horizon — the colorful sight was soul pleasing. With glowing eyes, Jaehyun admired how skilfully you cut the stems.

“I think we’ve got enough,” you stood up, putting some white lilies on the bucket he carried. Your eyes traveled up and, for a moment, you salivated at the image. His defined muscles clenched under his tangled sleeves, his shining black hair reflecting the sun, his brown eyes innocently holding your gaze. “Wow.”

Jaehyun frowned. “What?”

“You. I don’t think I ever said how beautiful you are.”

He fixed his glasses in that adorable way that showed both nervousness and care, looking down at the colorful bucket. “Oh, thank you.”

Swiftly, you pulled him by the hand until his chest met yours. “Why are you still on suppressants?” you asked calmly.

His eyes met yours again. “I don’t think it’s the right time to let it happen,” Jaehyun admitted. You could tell he was putting some effort into holding your confronting gaze. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“To get to you. Now that I have, I don’t feel like holding back. Is that okay?”

His cheeks resembled the peonies you had grabbed. “Yes, miss.”

“Don’t call me miss,” you reached for his hands with a smile that, to Jaehyun, uncrowned the sun. Your lips against his wrists left a feverish sensation on his skin. “I want you to call me yours.”

He swallowed, wetting his plump lips with his tongue before speaking. “My… My love.”

There were no words to describe how accomplished your heart beat at those words, like all the questions deep in your soul were answered by three simple syllables. Confidently, you stood on the tip of your toes, leaning closer as your eyes alternated between Jaehyun’s eyes and lips. He leaned closer too.

Your lips touched with the sun’s blessing.

With a hand on his nape, you kissed him so slowly it was possible to feel inch by inch of his mouth widening. A low, raspy moan escaped your throat when Jaehyun’s tongue found yours. He kissed you like songs were created, melody, rhythm and lyrics combining, making sense, becoming one. You could kiss him for hours, and you were probably going to if raindrops had not started falling heavily from the sky.

Parting ways with your laughter as background music, you ran straight to the closest shelter: a small and abandoned wooden barn, that at least was going to be of use until the rain passed.

It took one look for you to notice you were both soaked, fresh with rain, and so ready for each other it could be cut in the air with a knife.

After placing the bucket on the floor to let the flowers dry, Jaehyun kissed you again. This time, your tongues moved heatedly, drawing sensual circles around each other. Because there was no need to rush, you seized every bit of the kiss, from how your heads leaned forward to how Jaehyun’s lower lip brushed yours. You wanted to breathe him in. To lick him whole. To drink his every drop. Nobody had ever kissed you like that before, so warm and wanting it felt as though the sky was breaking open. Like a theft, your hand slid, gentle and demanding, under the soaked fabric of his white shirt.

“Is this okay?” You had to make sure.

“Yes,” Jaehyun breathed affectedly, feeling your nails against the defined muscles of his abdomen. His damped hair was dripping raindrops. “Is it for you too?”

“Yes.”

“I can wait a little longer, until we get home, if you want.”

“You’re my home,” Jaehyun retorted, and you were kissing him all over again.

For once in your life, it felt right to let go and devour the world with your own mouth. You took Jaehyun’s shirt off, kissing his muscles like a devotee worshiped a saint, memorizing every mole from his hip to his neck.

For once in your life, you let someone undress you, and kissed his knuckles in gratitude because it felt safe. Even if he could see the scars on your stomach. The marks of every plan going wrong. Every hunt, every lie.

“It’s fine,” you whispered.

But of course Jaehyun had to kiss you right there. Of course he had to press his plump, swollen lips from kissing against where you had been the weakest. “You’re beautiful, my love,” he murmured as his hands roamed your body, thumbs situated on the curve of your waist as his fingers sank against the fat of your skin. Your nipples peaked harder against the cool, fresh air. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Want you to make me yours.”

The shiver that ran down your spine was like thunder touching the ocean’s deepest ground. “You want me to bite you?” A bite given by your mate formed a permanent, unbreakable bond. It was a definitive and territorial claim, like the scar your teeth would leave in his skin.

Jaehyun’s instant and certain nod could easily have killed you with how fucking sweet he was.

With your lips back on his, your hands pulled your shorts down your legs; your panties rested where they landed, the bottom glistening with thick arousal. Proudly naked in front of your mate, you jumped on a table that was gladly by the barn’s door. It looked firm enough for what you were going to do.

Spreading your legs enough to offer him a peak of your core, you guided his wrist under your navel. “You look big, my love,” you murmured, giving in that you had absolutely noticed the girth in his pants. “Can you prep me a little?”

There was nothing Jaehyun would deny you. Readily, his hands spread your legs a little wider, and the tip of his fingers ran against your soaked, sliging lips. His gaze took as long as it needed staring at your folds, as though Jaehyun wished to commit the image to his memory in all its colors and shapes.

“It’s my first time,” lifting his eyes to yours, he confessed.

“So is mine,” you smiled. “I’ve only used toys.”

Jaehyun’s irises glimmered. So you were about to discover sex together, every stage of it, every thing that would and would not work out.

Fuck, what a lucky bastard he was.

Ever so gently, Jaehyun slid two of his slender fingers inside you, making you immediately clench around them with a breathy moan. “Go slow,” you instructed, only to find out Jaehyun did not need any of your orientations. Soon, he was with his mouth on your nipples as his fingers drew wet echoes in the barn, going at a pace that pressured a sensitive spot within your folds.

“You’re perfect,” Jaehyun grunted, needing you to know how amazing he was feeling just with his fingers buried in you, his eyes amazed to see such a breathtaking view. “So soft and wet, my love. Better than any toy I’ve used.”

“Baby,” you moaned, melting with how sweet Jaehyun sounded and how handsome he was when he concentrated on your body, those deep brown eyes focused on your cunt. His scent, too, was slowly driving you to insanity, feeding a brutal, biological need inside your guts. Growling, you tugged at his pants. “Take these off.”

It would be a shame to leave you waiting. Without removing his fingers from your clenching walls, Jaehyun pulled his pants and boxers to his feet with his free hand.

Your mouth drooled at the sight. How handsome he was, from head to toe, every color and vein, just for you... “Fuck, I want you,” you breathed impatiently.

The deep grunt that left Jaehyun when he pulled his fingers out came from the depths of his ribcage. From the tip to the base, his long fingers glistened with your pulpy juices. Almost too much to take. “Can I have a taste first?” he asked with eyes so allured you wanted to fuck him right then and there, but you complied, relishing as your omega got on his knees.

You removed his glasses to keep them from getting foggy.

At the first touch of his tongue on you, your toes curled at the edge of the table, your body unable to control its own responsiveness. You did not know if you liked the pleasurable sensations on your clit the most, or if it was how Jaehyun’s face was crafted while he had the time of his life between your legs. Even if impatience ate at your limbs, you let him suck and lick your pussy all he wanted, drowning in the slurping noises echoing in the barn. “Feels so good, baby. You’re so talented, doing this for the first time,” you praised, resting on your elbows as you watched, drawing slow circles with your hips for his mouth to follow. “That face is mine to cum, huh?”

Jaehyun moaned with his mouth still on you, looking up from where he so devotedly stood. “Yes. Just yours.”

“Good,” you tugged at his hair just slightly to lift his face back to yours. Your taste in his mouth was like oranges, like falling in love and lust. “I’m going to use it later.”

Thunder fell outside, lighting up the afternoon sky, as you adjusted on the table and kissed Jaehyun passionately. He grabbed the base of his member and aligned it with your entrance, rubbing the head, leaking with precum, up and down a few times. “Do you want me to pull out?”

“Hell no,” you shook your head with a grin. “I’m on birth control. I want your knot, angel.”

With his wet hair dripping on your stomach, Jaehyun grabbed the side of the table with such strength that it made his veins clench. You calling him sweet names nearly had his eyes rolling to the back of his skull. You were a temptress, so delicious and with a beauty that ended every standard, so knowing and lustful, and he was eager to please you, to feel your every inch, to make sweat and cum glisten on your skin like pearls. “You’re so good,” he muttered overwhelmingly, and even before he understood his own body, the head of his cock was welcomed by a wanton grip, one that soaked him warm and made his balls tense with how much cum he had for you. “You‘re the best alpha I could ask for, so beautiful and lovely, I’m so happy my heart is yours,” he mumbled, making your heart flutter.

You threw your head back when he was fully inside you, occupying the space sex toys, as effective as they were, never did. Your gaze held his all the time, even when they darkened with desire. You wanted to remember that scene forever. You wanted to keep it to your heart, the first time your omega felt your pussy around him. “I’m happy too, love. Madly,” you smiled. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. You?”

“Wonderful. You can move.”

Gripping the table’s edge, Jaehyun slowly retracted his hips only to slam them back again. The way his face clenched could be put in a painting and hung in a museum, because it was pure art, from his eyebrows to the curse that died on his lips. “I can feel you tightening around me.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathed, this time thrusting a bit faster, which was a synonym for erratically. “S-shit, did I hurt you?”

“I’m not made of glass, Jaehyun. You can go harder,” you encouraged by planting a kiss on his lips and guiding his hand to grab your hip.

With that, Jaehyun was lost forever. He let years of suppressed heats explode in every blood cell, in every breath and thrust of his hips. He let himself be the savage, lewd creature his desire crafted, and only for you he moaned, your name like wine on his lips, the jiggle of your breasts and thighs feeding his arousal, his knot forming quicker than he liked.

You saw his eyes turn into needy orbs, his agape mouth letting out the most guttural moans you ever heard, and the exposure of his thick, masculine neck had your teeth sharpening in seconds.

You pulled him closer, your breasts rubbing against his chest.

Your teeth touched his skin, and that lovely musky, leathery scent edged you on. They sank through skin, blood and muscle, the sharp edges piercing the core of Jaehyun’s soul, until it was tangled to yours. You moaned with his blood in your mouth, feeling how your heartbeats aligned, how your pupils left almost no space for the color of your irises, how Jaehyun’s knot formed firm and long inside you. You took it ravishingly, shivering on the shaking table, lost somewhere between Jaehyun’s moans and the feeling of his body flush to yours, until you managed to gather enough consciousness to remove your teeth and offer him your neck.

The mere thing Jaehyun saw was your mouth, bloodied, smiling in permission, before he dived in to make you his as much as he was yours.

Equally.

“So you’re telling me that after leaving my shop to a complete stranger and traveling for hours I can’t see my friend?” Haechan crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Johnny is not that much of a stranger. He’ll have the time of his life selling things for you” Taeyong chuckled. “But yes, you definitely can’t see Jaehyun now. He’s in heat.”

“And when is it going to be over?”

Taeyong shrugged. “In one week, I guess?”

“All that?”

“I told you, there was no use in coming with me, but you insisted.”

Haechan sighed, not wanting to admit Taeyong was right. “Is Y/N with him?”

“Where else would she be? She is his mate now.”

“So all they will be doing for an entire week is to be locked up, fucking each other’s brains out?”

“Correct.”

Haechan rubbed his face in frustration. “And to think that I was worried about him…”

Jaehyun admired the two small teeth marks on your neck as he breathed in and out.

“Color?” you demanded.

“Green,” he replied, looking so deliciously pliable your mouth watered.

You were finally in a scenario Jaehyun had pictured uncountable times inside his head: in your bedroom, which now was quite honestly a nest for the both of you, somewhere your omega felt comfortable and had his most primitive needs tended to, while slow rhythm and blues played, and the aroma of freshly baked pistachio cakes filled the house. Not only was Jaehyun surrounded by things that had your natural scent shirts — pillows, a leather jacket, biker gloves and plushies — but you were there all the time, no exception, to keep him well fed, hydrated and completely satisfied.

You even had rubbed your pussy on a pillow for him, one that he kept his nose buried in.

Right now, you had Jaehyun’s naked body restrained by ropes, your hands working on the delicate yet firm knots that kept his hands behind his back, his wrists tied together, and his chest tied to one of his thighs. It was the sound of your breathing and the notes of the rope coming against the ground that turned him on, the helplessness and vulnerability to be put in your beautiful hands… Oh, Jaehyun loved it.

You had been hidden in the nest for three days. However, it felt like an eternity of knowing your mate and savoring his every reaction. Since you weren’t much experienced, both you and Jaehyun found out what you liked together, and the absolute attention you paid to one another was holy, like a prayer whispered at night.

“This will leave lovely marks on your skin,” you grinned wholeheartedly, brushing his hair back. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin.

“I love you,” Jaehyun let out as quick as a bubble exploding. Your beauty shook him to the core. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” you let your hand drift to where he needed you the most. “Are you sure you’re not sensitive? Is it like, your sixth boner today?”

“I can take it. Please,” he reassured.

“How do you want to cum this time, baby? My hand?” Jaehyun shook his head. “My mouth?” Another shake. “All the way in?”

Jaehyun nodded, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Want you to ride me.”

You replied by straddling his lap.

It always amused him, how fucking beautiful you were on top. Your tits were perfect in his hands and mouth, the curve of your waist giving space to the adorable fat in your belly, and how your thighs spread over his was just cinema. “Thank you, my love,” Jaehyun smiled.

“The pleasure is all mine,” you assured, rubbing the slick of your core against his swollen member before taking it all in, starting a quickened pace so your lovely boy could find his relief one more time.

Because his hands were restrained, Jaehyun couldn’t touch you, but he still stared in awe at the earthquaking vision of you rocking his world. You swallowed him full, making his cock disappear inside your entrance only to poke at your navel from inside out. Your pussy was his favorite place to be, where he felt the happiest, blessed in mind, body and soul, and you let him feast on it whenever he wanted. Your darling, loving man.

“Let go for me,” sweetly, you pecked his forehead.

Jaehyun felt his cock harden an almost impossible amount, his balls aching with cum, before he was moaning helplessly, his knot firmly attaching to your uterus.

It was the look on his face that made you cum along, riding his cock faster, eating from every move of his good looking face.

A thin drop of sweat ran down Jaehyun’s temple as you both calmed down, ecstasy giving space to a loving, bonding gaze. “I think we’re getting better at this,” he cooed, making you laugh.

“No doubt. We will be unstoppable once your heat ends.”

“I don’t want it to end.”

“Cute.” Softly, you lifted your hips. His member, glimmering in juices and white cum, rested against Jaehyun’s stomach.

It was going to take minutes for it to get hard again.

“Y/N,” he called.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you make yourself cum for me?”

How you held your breath had Jaehyun close to wishing his hands were free to make you cum himself. But oh, he wanted to watch. He still was not over how beautiful you looked when you had an orgasm.

You smiled widely. “I think I love you even more with every word you say.”

Grabbing a light pink vibrator from the bedside table drawer, you rested back on the mattress with those attentive brown eyes following your every move. The device’s buzz filled up the room with a naughty promise. You brushed it gently against your nipples, then down your belly, all over your thighs and finally where Jaehyun loved the most.

He watched without a word, licking his lips when you moaned wantonly, first focusing the vibrations on your clit before easily sliding the vibrator inside your cum soaked hole. “Fuck,” you cried.

You dripped pearly white on the sheets. A beautiful sight.

Jaehyun’s skin shivered with goosebumps. Every damn time. “I’m so lucky,” he uttered, eyes glued to your pussy. “I’m so fucking lucky.”

As sweet and gentle-mannered as he was, Jaehyun could kill for the smile that bloomed on your face, so pure and adorable even if your cunt clenched around the toy. Your hand slid low, starting to rub long circles on your clit. “You are. Even more knowing that you’re going to fuck me dumb when I’m done.”

Most of his life, Jaehyun was told alphas strictly played the dominant role in the bedroom. Now, however, nothing thrilled him more than the perspective of switching roles with you.

You offered him the world. You allowed him to be.

He grunted quietly and yet deeply, already counting the signs of your orgasm approaching. First, your tightening drunk eyes; second, your hips rolling erratically; third, your chest trembling in long breaths that prolonged your ecstasy. “That’s it, my love. That’s it, looking so pretty for me…”

The moment your orgasm kicked in had your hole visibly pulsating, your mouth agape and your eyes rolling back. You let out a high-pitched moan as your back arched, and pulled the toy away fast, your swollen clit way too sensitive to receive further stimulation.

With his cock so hard it ached, Jaehyun admired in awe, unconsciously trying to get rid of the ropes that restrained him, which only caused them to burn hotter against his porcelain skin. He was so immersed that the only moment he noticed he was drooling was when spit ran down his chin. “Fuck.”

You sat on your thighs, readily licking his saliva and running your fingers through the knots on his back. The loveliest smirk decorated your face. “Time we untie you, angel.”

The experience of being untied was, perhaps, just as good as being tied up. Jaehyun watched with pupils dilated, taking small breaths of relief when the rope loosened around his skin, leaving red and pink marks on his body where it pressed. You watched in full delight, kissing the marks that blossomed in a deeper shade. “You’re so good for doing this, Jaehyunnie. I’m so lucky too, my love.”

He sighed when the rope fell entirely to the mattress, his muscles relaxing in freedom. Without waiting any longer, Jaehyun kissed you long, hands roaming up and down your curves. Smoothly, he turned you around, with your chest to the sheets and your ass up in the air. “Jaehyunnie is going to fuck you raw now, like dogs do,” he whispered, both his hands caressing your butt cheeks, his fingers slaves to both adoration and perversion. “Color?”

You smiled over your shoulder.

“Green. A thousand times green.”

You stared at the ceiling as your body rested in awe, a smile plastered on your face like it was permanent ink.

For the past few days, you had tended to Jaehyun rawly. Ravishing and frankly, to a point your bodies collided in exhaustion. All you had the strength to do was wrapping into each other’s embrace and sleeping for hours before you started it all over again.

After a specific round that left you breathless, your thighs shaking from overstimulation, his voice came out soft. “What now, Y/N?”

You hummed, leaning against his bare chest. “Hm?”

“What is it gonna be when we leave this room?”

“To give you an answer, I have to know what you want,” you replied, even though you were already considering the possibilities. Doyun was not going to stop hunting you, that much you were certain. You would never be safe as long as the government continued to sponsor people like him.

Jaehyun stared into the ceiling for a few seconds. “It is nice here. I feel safe and loved. I think I’ve always wanted that, too.”

“But?” you risked.

“But I don’t think it’s right for us to hide forever. What was built here has to be normalized out there, in the open,” he breathed. “I want to go back to the shop. I want to see the sea and listen to the birds sing in the morning. I want every omega in the world to have the opportunities they have here.”

Your chin rested on his chest, eyelashes batting softly as sunlight crystallized your irises. “Is that what you want? To rebuild the world?”

Jaehyun nodded.

“Good. I’ll give it to you,” you sealed your promise with a peck on his lips. Jaehyun’s eyes widened slightly as he puckered his mouth against yours.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean I will be the rebel to fucking stab the system in its throat.”

At that, Jaehyun got hard all over again. His eyes, so pure, blinked in a sparkling admiration. “I’ll fight with you.”

“Don’t say nonsense. You’re not fighting.”

“I think we agreed alphas don’t make choices for omegas,” he ran his hand through the sweaty strands of your hair. “If you fight, Y/N, I will fight with you.”

You let him be right. In every word and intention. In every truth of his desiring heart. And when Jaehyun smiled, his soul promised you way more than guns, hideouts and blood.

It was something worth fighting for.

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