#TO WRITE AND RELEASE THAT ONE CHAPTER OF MY TANGLED AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ackerfics · 3 years ago

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sunshine (iii) — levi ackerman.

chapter iii ; a river of gold and silver

— levi ackerman x female reader (tangled au | royal au (in a way))

— warnings: none <33

— series summary: a story of an orphaned thug, a locked-up flower, and their dreams. the former is fated to have one of the most sought-out treasures inside the island’s walls; while the latter will once again retake her destiny as the brightest star in the kingdom. it’s safe to say that their lives begin the moment they met each other.

— chapter summary: your ride to the capital is cut short and you're placed in a chase that would most likely have your head on a chopping block if you and your guide are caught. secrets are exchanged, walls are crumbled, and two hearts start connecting with each other through an invisible thread.

— word count: 10.4k

— notes: hello hello !!! sunshine (tangled au) is back and i am actually excited to post this one owo. it's nice to write for levi these days bc with the release of the new part of the final season, writing this au is my coping mechanism for the suffering the episodes will offer. i actually tried to make do with flynn's lines and fit them in a levi-like manner dnejdne spoiler alert: it's pretty hard. nonetheless, here you go — the new part of this mini series !! have fun reading, loves ^^

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3

repost bc tumblr hates me rn ^^ i hope this shows up in the tags now or else i'm gonna bury myself :>

series masterlist | sunshine taglist

A deafening silence occupies the carriage like another passenger.

After having his attention falter when you smiled at him, Levi mostly keeps quiet for the two hours the carriage has been moving. It was uncharacteristic of him to feel a certain way for a person, especially someone he only knows for a couple of hours. He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he continues glaring at the flower trinket as if it’s the decoration’s fault for the uncalled pattern of heartbeats lurching in his chest. Did he look so stupid staring at you like that? He can’t help but think. It was only a simple smile and suddenly he can’t think of anything else but that image in his head. He knows that his accompaniment to the capital will test something in him that he never wants to admit. Once again, Levi aggravatedly sighs while digging his fingers through his locks of hair at having to spend three days with you in the woods.

Against his will, he secretly glances at you from the corner of his eye, hoping that you never notice how he’s having a dilemma that’s revolving around you. Levi completely turns his head at the uncomfortable position you’re donning — head lolling to the side, bumping on the wooden wall of the vehicle as it bumps on every rock on the path. Still, he never makes a move. Instead, he stares at you with pensive eyes.

You are a conundrum waiting to be solved by the kingdom’s finest scholars. A girl living in a secluded glade whose controlling mother prevented you from seeing the world in person. Not exactly the best combination in the lands of Paradis. The more Levi thinks about it, the more he discerns that this girl sitting on the other side of the long seat speaks so many dangers that he can’t comprehend yet. As the carriage bumps on another rock, Levi automatically juts out his arm to catch you from toppling down the seat. Your head seeks refuge on his arm now and he inhales when he feels how soft your skin is. At the adrenaline rush earlier in the tavern, he never realized just how perfect you felt in his hold. It’s only at this moment that he notices how delicate you are. He needs to take care of her, was what he thinks. Acquaintance or no acquaintance, you’re his responsibility now. Judging from your mother’s reaction in the tower, you’re never to have harm be placed on you.

“Kindly wake her up.”

Levi shifts you until you’re pressing on his chest, the hand that was holding you up right now pulling on the hidden dagger in his boot. His face appears to be dangerous enough to garner a tense reaction from this tall fortune teller. He feels you stirring from your nap, which only spurs him to keep you close to him. The fortune-teller then holds an unreadable expression, her eyes drifting to the luminous hair that glows underneath the stream of sunlight from the window. Levi follows her eyes and instantly becomes even more apprehensive. Are they trying to take your hair? If so, Levi won’t hesitate to jump out the window with you. To hell with getting to the bustling capital using a vehicle, you two will just have to make the journey by foot.

“Relax, shortstack,” the fortune-teller placates, hands raising in defense. “I’m not here to harm you.”

She might just be talking to you but Levi is the only one who’s wide awake at the moment. Eyes flashing in alarm, Levi hisses, “Why did you save us?”

The fortune teller’s eyebrows rise in amusement. It looks like she doesn’t expect this turn of events. Truth be told, the first time she saw you inside the tavern, she instantly recognized the glow you emit. The very same one that’s been told in her line of occupation. The glow of the legendary flower many fought to have, the flower that painted an entire field with the most ideal shade of red. See, one of the many gifts the flower gave to the bearer is the gift of immortality, of rejuvenating what was lost in time. The fortune-teller remembered hearing from her mentor that this flower became lost in the flow of time, never to be seen again. Until today. Lanterns took over her vision when you met her gaze in the tavern. It might be wishful thinking but you’re starting to burn like the flower that embedded its roots across the walled city’s seas. You’re fated for something you’re not even aware of. And the fortune-teller lets her eyes follow the waterfall of hair cascading over the floor of her carriage.

“Trust me, it’s not out of my own free will that I saved you, shortstack,” the fortune-teller answers. Her hand takes off her hood, making way for short blonde hair and dull eyes. “Now, kindly wake the lady with the sunlit hair.”

“Who are you?” Levi demands.

The fortune-teller fixes her dark eyes on his narrowed ones. “Yelena. I don’t like to repeat my words, shortstack. Wake up the lady because I have something to tell her.”

Without looking away from the newly-introduced fortune teller, Levi gently shakes you. He continues doing so until the trickle of annoyance starts seeping through when you’re not making any movement at all. Looking at you becomes one of his many mistakes while going on this trip. Your face is closer than he anticipates. He can see the individual eyelashes resting on your skin and the little breaths you exhale. He dare not lower his eyes to your lips. That’s a dominion not worth exploring. Yet. Angry at himself for the word, Levi clenches his jaw and shakes you, even more, the gentleness gradually vanishing. “Hey, sunshine, wake the fuck up. Don’t make me throw you out of the window.” Of course, he means well but the chuckles coming from the standing tree are starting to get to him.

You groan in his arms, straightening your posture on the plush cushion. You fail to notice the tense hold Levi has on you, continuing rubbing off the sleep from your eyes. “Levi?” you call out, turning your head to the said person, who’s leaning back from you.

It’s comical, how you squeal at the proximity and find yourself on the floor again. Levi lets you fall this time.

“Y-You’re too c-close!” you scream with locks of your hair covering your face. Your finger is pitifully pointing at your companion, whose face can rival all the expressionless portraits you saw in books. “W-Why was I there?! From what I remember, I was sleeping there!” You point to where you were napping before helplessly fumbling for your words, cheeks too warm to the touch. “How did I get to you?!”

“Relax, sunshine,” Levi blandly drawls. “It was against my will, too.” Everything concerning you is against my will at the moment.

“Had a good nap, I hope,” Yelena asks from across the carriage.

You abruptly turn your head towards the fortune teller, slightly shocked that she reaches the roof of the vehicle. For a moment, you forget the reason for your fast-paced heartbeat. Yelena looks like she can throw the crystals she just placed on the table and you find yourself inching closer to Levi’s legs. The said man stares at you as if you made a grave mistake to mankind by touching his boots. Taking him by surprise, you stand up with your hair bouncing alongside your skirt. You can’t seem to look your guide in the eyes, cursing every heart-lurching moment you had with him. You were too close to him. So close that you could see every single detail in his handsome face. The dots of freckles on his nose, the bags under his eyes, the sharpness of his cheekbones — features that accentuate him just fine.

The universe might be too hard on you. They gave you a guide that’s exactly like the knights you read in your books.

“What are you doing?” you ask Yelena as you watch her take a chest with a keyhole right in the middle. A mysterious object that piques your interest for tendrils of light peeks through the keyhole as if the chest holds the world’s most prized treasures.

Yelena spares you a glance. “I’m going to read your future.”

You brighten like the sun. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.” Yelena finishes her preparations with a flourish of her cloak. She walks over to you and pulls out a chair, her smile secretive yet knowing. “For you, Your Highness.”

You play along, pulling your skirt in a curtsy. “Thank you.”

Yelena drops her smile, fixing Levi a cold stare. The man is perfectly content with sitting far from the fortune teller and when he feels the eyes boring on the side of his face, he scoffs in disdain. There is no way he’ll let this woman near him. A minute passes by and he continues staring into the forestry, arms crossed on his chest in a clear sign of defiance. As the minute runs out of sand, he now feels another pair of eyes pleading for him to join them at the fortune-telling table. He clenches his jaw to strengthen his resolve. If only he can see those two pairs of eyes now. One is blatantly glaring at him while the other screams like a wounded puppy. He rolls his eyes, already deciding that he won’t join whatever circus Yelena has in this carriage.

“We won’t start without you,” Yelena informs.

“Levi, it won’t be that bad.”

Levi snorts with a mocking smirk, still not looking away from the window. “Are you trying to convince yourself, sunshine?” His eyes narrow at the set of hooves in the dirt path. They’re going in the direction of the tavern. It must be the squad of royal guards with the bloodhound and the mad person. Levi’s scowl deepens as he shifts on the cushion to sit on the other side, careful not to let his head be visible. There must be more guards ahead, stationed for checkpoints all the way to the capital. Shit. This is why it’s much better to travel on foot. Three days will be a flash if you put your mind to it. Yes, your journey will be cut down to a day if you keep riding the carriage but the threats ahead the dirt path doesn’t sit right with Levi.

“Levi?”

He turns to you. Another mistake. You’re staring at him, pleading with him to sit beside you. His eye twitches, letting himself be sucked in your endless irises.

“You don’t even have to worry about paying. It’s just,” you glance at the fortune teller impatiently shuffling her deck of tarot cards, “Yelena won’t start if you’re not present and besides she said this is free.” You fiddle with a lock of your hair, eyes downcast. Suddenly, Levi feels guilt pooling inside his stomach. You’re closing in on yourself like when you talk about your mother. “She said that it concerns you — my destiny.”

He doesn’t want you looking at him like that.

Levi groans. “Alright. Only because sunshine over there says so.”

He has to squint at your smile.

“Perfect!” Yelena claps in satisfaction when Levi begrudgingly sits beside you with his arms crossed. She snaps her fingers, shrouding the entire carriage in darkness.

You yelp and wrap your arm around Levi’s, whose suspicion rises again because of the fortune teller’s theatrics. Unaware of his actions, he faintly runs his hand over yours.

Then, a floating flame lights up the table.

Now, Levi is on high alert, raising his chin in the air. You, on the other hand, are questioning where the flame comes from when there’s no sound of a striking match. In front of the two of you, Yelena’s face becomes illuminated with the small ball of fire zipping around the round table. Her finger is poised like a candle, her face contrasting with the warm palette the flame gives. The hand brushing over yours is now gripping on your fingers as if Levi is ready to whisk you away out of the carriage.

This is no ordinary fortune-teller.

“What the fuck are you?” Levi interrogates.

Yelena shrugs. “I am known to have many personas. Seeker of Truth. The Traveling Gypsy. Paradis’ Seer. One of the Moirai. Though the last one is purely fictitious — the mind of man rivals the raw creativity of artists, I say. But the title that I proudly wear is Teller of Destinies. I assure you that the spectacle you see is merely a small portion of what I can truly do. Don’t look at me like that, shortstack. I speak of the truth and I take pride in my fortune-telling. I’ve told kings, queens, heroes, and rulers their destinies — what awaits them at the end of the tunnel. Of course, I always say that it might not come too easily for them. The destiny that I speak of guides them through their actions, not hinders them from doing more. It is their choice, however, if they let destiny play after knowing of their glory and power in the end.

“Now, do you wish to know your destiny?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck, no.”

You and Yelena blankly look at the only man inside the carriage.

Levi glances at you. “What?” When you don’t respond, he rolls his eyes. “Oh, fine.” He meets Yelena’s gaze from across the table, the smirk on the woman’s face making his lips curl in distaste. “Yes, tell me my destiny, for all I care.”

“Then, we start with you.”

The next thing Levi knows, golden dust is blown into the small flame, igniting the entire carriage in an explosion of sparkling shapes and trails. The magic that Levi only hears in whispers in the underground city unfolds in front of his eyes. They say that just a single drop of magic is worth millions of any kingdom’s currencies — that one will be richer than any mogul or scion known to man. And in the four walls of this measly carriage, it effortlessly flows like any running body of water. He detects movement in the corner of his eye, turning his head to see you touch your fingertips on the floating glowing sand. It makes your eyes shine as no star can ever achieve. You lift your head until you catch his stare. Electrocuted with alarm, Levi looks away so fast that he fails to notice how you duck down as well.

“A thief born of unconditional love and unfortunate circumstances.” The sand engulfs them in an image of a faceless mother holding her child close to her chest, where her heart lies. Levi’s eyes flicker at the vision. A burn starts to creep in his throat and nose. “You will be blessed with a miracle of beauty and wealth that many failed to seek.” War from different generations plays out from the sand, then, a drop of gold bursting into flares of sand. “A life of extravagance will be waiting for you on two routes that ask for something in return.” Levi furrows his eyebrows at Yelena’s sentence. “At the end of a block searching for justice or a dagger point driven by madness. ‘Till then, a death will be reversed in the hands of an unconditional love born from two hearts merging into one.”

The sand calms down and Yelena opens her eyes.

“How long have you been pretending to read fortunes or destinies or whatever the fuck you call them?” Levi jadedly inquires.

You elbow Levi before flashing a smile at the fortune teller. “That was amazing! Where did you learn that?”

Yelena smirks, getting a handful of the sand from the opened chest. So that’s what the chest contains. “From places here and there. Nowhere, if I do say so myself.”

“It looks like—”

“Bullshit?” Levi sneers.

“Magic,” you ignore Levi as you finish your sentence.

The blonde once again blows the sand in front of the floating flame. “I’ll let you dwell on that, Your Highness. Now, it’s your turn.”

“I can’t wait,” you whisper almost giddily. Even the click of your companion’s tongue doesn’t deter you from seeing the glowing sand form images that connect with your destiny.

Yelena’s expression becomes blank, unnoticed by you but not by Levi. Whatever destiny the blonde fortune teller will tell you, it surely won’t make sense. However, Levi can’t shake the uneasy feeling that he has after listening to Yelena narrate his supposed death. Is he really going to die? The fortune that he got continues to circle in his mind like a broken record. He wants to turn it off but it comes back on and sets a pit of apprehension deep inside his body. He feels his stomach churning at the thought of him dying — the first time feeling this way even after escaping the daily dangers of the Underground. He merely stares through the morphing sand, not realizing that your hold on his arm slowly vanishes until they rest on your lap.

Yelena glances at Levi before turning back to you. Death is not something uncommon in her prophecies, in fact, it’s almost a rite of passage for heroes she encountered throughout her lifetime. The man with the slight yet muscular build will be one for the history books across the kingdom, if only he goes past that shock upon knowing his momentary doom. Blinking herself to maintain concentration, Yelena opens her mouth to start with your prophecy. The sand glows even brighter than Levi’s visions and that alone proves that you are more special than you think. Your mother will surely agree with that.

“Journey to where the sun shines eternal to find the answers you seek. There, a union of souls will light up the sky, brighter than the dream you wish to chase. However, the withered hand that unearthed a treasure will take you away and unveil an exchange. Your North Star will fade but once the reaper’s deal has been set in stone, it will glow most splendidly. A lost legacy will be found and the heavenly bodies rule the heavens once again — whole, just as it should be since the luminous beacons floated in the sky.”

There’s no reaction coming from any of you.

With a bated breath and a childlike tilt of your head, you ask, “What does that mean?”

Levi, who’s staring into space and not paying attention to your prophecy, turns his head to you. “Bullshit.”

You cross your arms with a huff. “I didn’t ask for your take on the matter, Levi.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Sure,” he drones before standing up from his seat and peeking through the curtains. He stays there unmoving, eyes sharp as the carriage rocks against the trail. He feels your eyes on him but he chooses to brush it off. Movement at the end of the dirt trail catches his attention. He leans forward until he has his face pressing on the glass window of the carriage. In front of them is a line of vehicles, trickling towards a bridge leading to a village. “Fuck.”

Meanwhile, you are trying to grasp what Yelena just recited to the two of you. It’s almost like the excerpts from the novels Mother brought home, only this time, it features you and your supposed future. In contrast with Levi’s prophecy, yours hold a lighter note. You wish you wrote everything down and decipher it for later reference. Who knows how much help this can give you in your rebellion? Right when you’re about to ask for Yelena’s help in decoding her destiny-reading, Levi releases a string of expletives as he gets up from the window seat.

“Levi, what’s going on?” you ask him, trying to get through his panicky state.

From how Levi’s acting, it seems like he doesn’t hear you from how tense and rapid he is while putting your hair in his arms. Yelena raises her eyebrow at the glower Levi throws at her, his voice earning a guttural growl, “Why didn’t you tell us there are palace guards stationed further down the trail?”

You turn to Yelena. “What?!” you all but shriek.

“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted you,” Levi snaps.

Your breathing picks up again. Your eyes are unfocused just thinking of the possibilities after the palace guards catch wind of you. They’ll contact Mother and you’re going to be inflicted with the punishment of a lifetime, one that you won’t escape. You press your hand on top of your pounding chest, right above your heart. Your shoulders start to cave in and your hair creates a curtain around you to hide from the two occupants in the carriage. Black spots are now dotting your vision. What Levi said about having no regrets starts to fade away as the impending wrath of Mother comes into mind. Even though she shelters you and showers you with obvious affection, her anger is something you don’t want to witness.

You don’t want to go back to the one place you call home.

A ginger touch on your shoulder makes you jump, your knees banging on the table from fright. Levi is looking at you with inexpressive eyes. You fail to notice the hint of concern and the slight furrow of his eyebrows as he trails his stare from your rapid blinking to your constant lip bites. Your hand raises to stroke a lock of hair back and forth. Your hearing sounds like you’ve been submerged in a tub of cold water. Palace guards at the end of the forest trail? Sounds like a death sentence. Right around your birthday, too.

“Hey,” a soft voice enters your ear. “Hey, sunshine, look at me. Come on.” Levi crouches in front of you, your hair draping on his thighs. He looks up at you, his then expressionless face making way to a softer and calmer look. The hand on your back travels to your nape, keeping your head in place so that you truly return his gaze. His other hand holds your arm in place, both of his thumbs creating circles on your skin to further calm you in your seat. “I’m right here, I’m not on the floor. There you go.” When silver irises meet your distinct ones, the most minuscule of smiles tugs on his lips. “Hi.”

You shakily return the smile (it’s more like a grimace but you can tell Levi accepts it nonetheless). “Hi.”

Levi tucks your hair behind your ear. His soft demeanor changes once he looks back to Yelena, who’s watching the moment between you and Levi with clear amusement. “Did you know anything about the guards that are probably going to kick open this carriage like they own everything?”

Yelena shrugs as if the situation doesn’t affect her at all, which it doesn’t. “I don’t. Onyankopon doesn't either. I have a feeling that they’re going to be there. It’s a fact because you,” she points at a scowling Levi still rubbing circles on your skin, “are a felon before I even came to the tavern for some breakfast. I swear I saw some posters nailed to some trees along the way. That’s how fast the palace guards are, though I think they didn’t get your nose right. Nonetheless, they won’t stop until they catch you. They’re persistent enough as it is but since you stole the princess’s diadem, you just made them even more persistent.”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. He looks at you again, his hand now cupping your face, an action that you find comforting. “Think you can run a couple of miles, sunshine?”

Your voice is small when you answer, “I’ll try.”

He nods, not looking away from you. “Just tell me if you feel tired, I’ll carry you.”

“I think that won’t be necessary,” you whisper, turning away from him and hoping that your hair hides your uneasy expression.

Levi stands up from squatting in front of you. He picks up your hair and proceeds to walk towards the back entrance of the carriage. The vehicle jostles and eventually stops, the voices of some palace guards bouncing through the wooden walls. You don’t have to wait for Levi to tell you to start moving because the man instantly opens the back entrance with the stealthiness of a predator.

“If you wish to get away from them, try trekking the path towards where the water never runs empty.”

“Would you stop talking in prose?” Levi says brusquely.

Yelena shrugs. “Adds to the experience, if I do say so myself.”

You tug on Levi’s sleeve, making him stop for a moment. You turn to Yelena with both of your hands pressing on your chest. Timidly, you smile at the teller of destinies. “Thank you, Yelena. I hope this is okay.” You press a kiss on her cheek, stare softening at the sight of the woman’s pink cheeks and flustered blinking.

The black-haired man rolls his eyes, successfully opening the latch to the carriage. He briefly looks behind him to cooly acknowledge Yelena for the last time, “Thanks”. And with that, he carefully pulls you to him. The gravel clashes with the soles of his feet the moment he steps out of your ride to the capital. Knowing the palace guards and their ferociousness in finding things, Levi won’t risk hiding inside the carriage for fear of being discovered not even five minutes after concealing your tracks. He keeps his arm around your waist as he looks from left to right. At every blinding reflection of the sun’s beams on a palace guard’s uniform, Levi immediately pushes you out of view and ducks down as well.

“This is ridiculous!” A palace guard with light brown hair barks to himself. “Shouldn’t we be searching the Underground for that runt?”

A sigh came from a blond guard. “That would be the last place he’ll hide, Oluo.”

“Well, I won’t be surprised if he hid there. He came from that place.”

You curiously peer at Levi’s expression, only to find it stony and impassive.

A feminine voice chimes in next. “This seems like a reminder of what happened nearly twenty years ago. And right around the princess’s birthday, too. It’s supposed to be a festival but here we are.”

“I agree, Petra,” the blond guard backs up. “Whoever that Underground rat is, he’s a heartless piece of shit for stealing the diadem.”

“I mean, he came from down there,” Oluo supplies.

Another guard with black hair joins in. “He’s probably working with the witch who took the princess.”

“Gunther, that’s … not exactly a bad theory,” the woman, Petra, agrees.

“That’s a solid lead, one that will alert Commander Erwin if we have enough evidence,” the blond guard murmurs with a hand on his chin.

“You know what’s better? Finding that Underground thief and getting the prize money for myself!” Oluo laughs haughtily.

“You disgust me, Oluo.”

“Oh, lighten up, Petra—Ow, fuck!”

“How many times is it this day?”

“Probably four? I don’t know, I lost count when he bit his tongue the second time while riding out here.”

“Hey, I think I see something over there!”

“Fuck, really? Where is it, Eld? Is it the thief with the large nose?”

“Sunshine.”

You expectantly stare at Levi, eyebrows downturn at his tone. All the concern and softness he showed you in the carriage vanishes without a trace while hiding from the guards. It started when the two of you heard their conversation, his face smoothening into a blank slate when the topic of the underground city came into play. His stare appears to be dead, with no hint of the caring Levi at all. You wonder if the underground city has anything to do with the change in his demeanor. Then, the remark of the large nose befuddles you. Levi doesn’t have a large nose. It’s actually nicely shaped and fits with his facial aesthetics.

“What is it, Levi?” You try to keep your voice as low as possible.

“When I tell you to run, run with everything you’ve got, you hear me?” You nod. “Okay, they’re getting closer. Don’t ever look back no matter what, alright?” The footsteps become louder every ticking second and Levi is slowly getting up from his squat. He wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you up and pushing you to the side without looking away from the direction of the guards. He stays silent even when the guards appear too close to where the two of you are hiding. The hand on your waist remains secure, reminding you that he’s by your side. The murderous glare on his face intensifies as he says one word,

“Run.”

You’ve never run so hard in your entire life before this day.

Yelena was talking about a dam.

Levi keeps steady hands around your arm and back when you both stop in front of a cliff overlooking a rocky plain. A couple of pebbles trickle down the cliff, the gushing from the water wheels drowning the length of the drop. Down across the barren plain of the dam, a familiar figure dashes out from one of the hidden entrances.

“Who is that?” you whisper to Levi.

“They don’t like me,” Levi sneers.

The guards are just about to come out of the cave that led you two to the dam when a shriek of excitement echoes through its walls.

“Who’s that?” Your tone carries disbelief and perplexity as a brown-haired person emerges in between the many palace guards, their eyes twinkling in glee at the sight of you and Levi, their smile devious because of your hair. Levi notices the blatant staring of the weird person and tenses beside you.

Levi transfers his hand from the small of your back to your waist. “They don’t like me that much either.”

A guard then follows the brown-haired person with his nose in the air.

“Who is that?!”

“Sunshine.” Levi grasps your shoulders. “Let’s just assume that everyone here doesn’t like me.”

“Are you sure that’s him, Squad Leader Hange?” The female guard, Petra, meekly asks. “He doesn’t look like the posters. I mean, his nose is different.”

“I’m sure that’s him!” Hange exclaims, looking back at the last guard who joined his fellow soldiers. “Right, Mike?”

Mike hums, his hand moving closer to his sheathed sword without taking his eyes off of Levi. “His scent is the same as the ones we captured.”

“See!” Hange cheers. “You can blame Jean for the nose problem in the posters. That kid just got in our ranks so he’s bound to make rookie mistakes like this. He drew our descriptions in under an hour so cut him some slack. Erwin even said he’s one of the best artists the guards have had in ages. I bet he’s crying to his fellow recruits about his current predicament right now. Who knows!”

“So that’s the name of the person who’s responsible for the nose inconsistencies in the posters,” Levi mutters under his breath.

“That’s what you’re concerned about?!” You turn to him in bafflement.

The man shrugs nonchalantly.

You narrow your eyes at him before shoving your satchel with your frying pan on his torso, receiving an oof and a look of irritation. You eye the ledge right in front of you, hoping that your makeshift rope of hair loops around the wood to support your weight, and hopefully Levi’s. The said man, however, is still preparing to take down a total of twelve guards at most. Both of you are back to back against each other, each of you gauging what’s standing in the way of those lanterns. You and Levi glance at one another. A wordless agreement travels between you two. Then, you throw your hair around the ledge, twirling around it exactly like you hope it would. Levi takes out the frying pan from your satchel and swings it to the nearest guard, which is the guard named Oluo.

“Be careful, sunshine.”

“Always!”

You swing towards the other side of the dam, away from Levi’s fight with the palace guards.

“By the Walls, did you see how cool the girl is?! The way she used her long hair to swing to a nearby platform like that? I want her, Mike! Her hair is a perfect specimen!”

Once you land on a rock formation, you check Levi. For some reason, you’re not surprised when you see him obliterate every one of the so-called obstacles until all that’s left is the bespectacled guard, the bloodhound as Levi calls him, and the ginger woman who looks like she’s about to piss herself. He’s glowering at the brown-haired person, twirling the frying pan in his hand.

“If you want her, you have to get through me.” Levi wipes the blood that trickles from his lips. That Eld certainly packs a punch. “And I won’t let you touch her or a single strand of her hair, you. shitty. four-eyes.”

Your heart skips a beat.

Before you can dwell deeper into that now-familiar fluttering emotion that you feel around Levi, you blink yourself to the reality that you’re standing near another long drop, with midair waterways being supported by thin planks of wood. The lone person who came from another cave in the dam spots you, sending a wave of panic through your veins. You look back at Levi and you see him saying a bland ‘I’m sorry’ before rendering the female guard unconscious with your frying pan. The brown-haired person squawks at that, now trembling behind the tallest blond since Levi has no remorse for knocking out a person regardless of their gender. You watch with mild adoration when your guide dodges, parries, and attacks Mike with light feather-like agility.

Movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. The unknown man is starting to kick one of the wooden planks holding the waterways. You feel your blood running cold. He’s directly below you.

“Hey, sunshine! Do you mind if I keep this?” Levi brandishes the frying pan in the air. A few seconds later, a thud resonates from Mike’s fallen body.

A blinding glint glares at you. You gasp, “Levi, look out!”

“Ah, shit, I forgot about shitty four-eyes.”

Shitty four-eyes unnervingly snickers. “Give us back the diadem and we’ll let you go, shorty!”

Levi clicks his tongue. “This is so fucking troublesome.”

“Then it’s better that you give yourself up to us and return the princess’s crown.” Now, the guard sounds angry. How dare this midget disrespect the royal family. A midget from the Underground who looks like he’s so above the monarchy keeping the entire island afloat. Hange wants this man to suffer in the death block. It is what Erwin commanded a few minutes after the theft occurred. And being the follower Hange swore to be, Erwin’s voice is absolute.

Water starts dripping down from the dam. The main beam supporting it is shaking from a constant, rhythmic force. Its creaking becomes deafening as the thin piece of wood comes off and a gush of water rapidly flows from the huge aperture. You look around and focus on the man with a sinister grin on his face. That’s the third beam he destroyed. At each one, his unhinged smile turns into something more malicious until it’s fixed on his face at the successful beam that will flood the entire place. The look on his face is something that Mother usually describes when she talks of the people in the outside world. It’s a face full of animosity and eeriness that preys on naive people like you. Hastily, you prepare to throw your hair at your companion.

“Levi!”

At your shout, Levi stops trying to hit the bespectacled guard with the frying pan and another flash of understanding sheens his eyes. He catches the end of your hair and loops it around his hand. At the same time, you’re looping your hair around the protruding rock acting like an eyesore in the rock formation you’re standing on.

With a confidence that you don’t know you possess, you yell, “Jump!”

For a short period and for some reason that he doesn’t know, Levi trusts you completely to jump off a cliff with only your hair as the lifeline. He can tell you’re straining to hold up his weight, trying his best to lessen your burden by controlling how he holds up to your hair. A panicked call of his name alerts him. Right below him is one of the chaperones that somehow followed him despite separating while entering the dense forest. The goon is holding up a rapier that’s most likely stolen from an unsuspecting palace guard, the tip of the weapon supposedly aimed at his crotch. Like his saviour, you pull your hair up to not let the blade graze Levi, making the goon chase after the gunmetal-eyed man until he lands both feet on the dusty ground. Your guide coughs as the particles cloud his vision for one moment before he jumps back at an idiot’s battle cry. Without exerting that much effort, Levi merely flicks his wrist and gives the man a concussion with your trusty frying pan.

Levi hums, eyeing his newfound signature weapon with a raised eyebrow. “Not bad.”

A shadow looms over his figure. Dread washes over him upon seeing the huge wave of water promising an early death. The briefest sign of panic visible on his features is the slightest twitch of his left eye. On impulse, he searches for you before he gets washed up by the dam’s water capacity. He perks up at your voice. It’s a distinct way of saying his name. If someone were to compare, they’d say it’s the normal way of pronouncing his name. For you, however, you sound so different to his auditory senses, almost like the very first brush of the sun’s fingers on his skin. A sure way of pinpointing you in a cacophony of sounds that would most likely drown you while trekking this trip with him. It’s not working this time. For one second, he even lifts his finger to clean his ear because your voice is literally above him. He thinks the dam’s onslaught of water is playing tricks on his hearing. But when he looks up again, you’re there — falling for him with your hair creating a halo of reflective light.

Just like he promised, he carries you with the smallest of huffs at the impact of your fall.

“I can run, Levi!” you protest in his arms.

He adjusts you in his hold, with you now facing the massive wave gaining speed, hitting rock formations as it destroys everything in its path. Not only is there a dam-worth of water closing in on you, but there’s also a huge boulder coming towards you. It’s enough to keep your mouth shut.

Levi glances at you before hastening his run. “Oh, really? Hold tight, sunshine.”

In the nick of time, the two of you enter a cave on the side of the dam.

Darkness swallows you whole.

Sheltered in a tower your whole life, sensations were never much introduced to you. What it feels like to have each blade of grass tickle your toes or what it sounds like when birds chirp by your ear. The most you know about these things are from the books you re-read every single day with the most jaded countenance. One of these sensations that you never thought you’d experience is drowning. You always picture the ocean when that word comes into a paragraph. An ocean or a deep body of water that renders you immobile, with imaginary shackles pulling your ankles down until you have no choice but to let it drag you to the deepest trenches. You’re not drowning at the moment per se but everything is suffocating you, the cavern’s walls and the rushing water. You’re desperately pounding the frying pan on the rocks surrounding you and your guide but to no avail.

Levi is going back in the rising water to find a loose rock to drain everything. He keeps coming back for air before diving back down. Your frantic state matches with his as you meet gazes — gunmetal irises clashing with yours. At the sight of your crestfallen expression, Levi resolutely slams his body against the cave’s walls, hoping that a slight movement offers you your freedom. Then, he goes to the top of the cave and pushes with all his strength.

“Agh!” His face is lethal as he stares at the darkest hue of gray, almost black, inside the lightless cavern. He hears your gasp but he only grits his teeth and dives down to the bottom of the cave. He glares at nothing the moment he comes up for air. He digs his hands through his hair while saying, “It’s no use. I can’t see anything.”

This frustrates you. You’re at a loss for words. A few minutes earlier, you felt so imprisoned in this cave, now, you’re just angry at yourself for so many reasons. Your breathing becomes ragged. Without thinking about your decision, you mimic Levi and duck yourself in the dark waters filling the small space. Not even an entire minute after you search the bottom in a futile attempt, Levi pulls you to the surface.

“Hey,” Levi’s hands are firm on your arms. “It’s pitch black down there.” He appears to be careful as he tucks your wet hair behind your ear just to see you better in the dark cave. The two of you stare at each other for a lengthy second, his warm fingertips lingering on your chilly skin. He slowly pulls away when you stiffen before wrapping your arms around yourself. “We can’t do anything about it.” He watches you lean on the cave, your lips quivering. He wonders if the cold is starting to creep on you or if you’re preventing yourself from crying. He can’t exactly tell because you’re also shivering in the chest-high water. “Sunshine—”

“This is all my fault,” your voice cracks. “I never should’ve done this. Mother is always right. What you said about making a choice with no regrets … I don’t think I want that anymore. I regret doing any of this. I regret ever taking that leap from the tower.” Your breathing picks up, your fingers tangling with your wet hair until you can feel the stinging pain in your scalp. “I regret—”

“Do you regret saving me?”

When you make no sound at his question, Levi continues, “Do you regret letting me inside your tower? Would you feel better if instead of taking me in and dressing my wound, you threw me out the window?”

Again, you offer no answer. You only tuck yourself in your little ball of solitude. You turn around so that Levi is faced with your back. He sighs at your silence. Even though you’re uncooperative at the moment, he never looks away from your figure. The more time he’s staring at you, he’s losing the tightness of his shoulders and letting himself lean his head on the rough rock. There’s no light filtering inside the cave but his eyes are glowing like stars while checking up on you. His alertness only enhances when he can hear slight sniffles coming from you. He knows that there’s nothing he can do. He has no talent for cheering people up, at least from what Isabelle and Farlan told him a couple of times. Your shoulders are shaking from your low sobs. He can tell from the way you hold them that your answer is yes to his every question.

Levi sighs before opening his mouth again. It stays that way until he clears his throat, at a loss with what he should say to you. Then, after a while of closing and opening his mouth, he settles for, “I’m from the Underground.”

Finally, he can see your face. He fights the urge to tuck your hair behind your ears like he always does. For now, seeing half of your face uncovered with hair is enough for him. Levi gulps down since he has your full attention right now.

It’s bizarre to think how he can maintain eye contact with you while telling his story. “I came from a place called the Underground.” You raise an eyebrow since this is the first time you’ve ever heard of such a place, except for the time when the palace guards were talking about it before the whole chase. “It’s not that different from your tower. Life there is pretty shit, that’s all I can say. You have to endure a fucking lot to be able to survive in that place.” He looks away from you when your eyes lose the glassy sheen of tears. “Thought you should know.” He shrugs as if telling his background to a person he just met is nothing to him.

“I’m happy that you finally experienced the outside world, Levi. If it’s anybody who deserves that, I know it’s you.”

His heart raced against his chest.

You think you two are sharing secrets so while clutching your hair, you utter in a soft voice, “I have magic hair that glows when I sing a certain song.”

Levi slowly turns his head to you. “What?”

“I have magic hair,” you murmur the words slowly before breaking into a smile, “that glows when I sing!” You place your hands on Levi’s shoulders when you feel the water now coming up to your neck. “Flower, gleam and glow. Let your power shine—”

You gasp your final breath.

Suddenly, the cave glows as if it contains a thousand suns.

“Her hair fucking glows.”

Levi saw everything revolting in the Underground. Given the fact that he grew up with the nastiest pieces of shit of any talent, he’s not phased when placed in peculiar situations. He distinctly remembered how Yelena was not the first fortune teller to ever give him an eerie reading. It was an old lady saying something about how he would grow to be the richest man alive and have a taste of the aboveground. He merely scoffed at the reading and went on his way stealing food from unfortunate dealers. That old lady even vanished without a trace after he decided to come back to her stall, thinking that a piece of stale bread from the surface was enough for payment. (His guilt always ate him since he was young.) Now, it’s your fucking hair. Hair that glowed so blindingly like Levi accidentally swallowed piss water upon seeing it happen. It’s awfully similar to the glow behind his eyelids while you were healing him from his arrowhead wound. It felt like it, too.

Now, his nickname for you sounds fucking fantastic.

“Did I swallow too much water in that cave or am I just seeing things?”

Yeah, great, this must be it. He’s going insane. For someone who maintains his facade in an expressionless state, his eyes are wide and his mouth is in a grim line. He can’t comprehend how your hair actually glows like the fucking sun or something. Well, another weird thing about you he knows. You have hair the length of a tower and it glows. How brilliant is that? He’s starting to spiral and it shows how he remains lying on the grassy riverside while you’re rejoicing a few feet away for being alive.

“Her hair … glows.” He trails off. “Why does her hair fucking glows?!”

He’s been saying fucking a lot this day.

“Levi?”

“Is she eating sunlight or what?”

“Levi!”

“What is it, brat?!”

You two stare at one another like each of you is crazy.

You softly smile at him, trying to appear as if revealing your life’s secret doesn’t bother you in the slightest. To a stranger no less. You pull your hair from the river and attempt to squeeze out the water from the strands. “It doesn’t just glow, Levi.”

Why do you look angelic with the strawberry sky behind you like that?

Levi shakes himself from admiring you like a bumbling idiot when you two need to talk about how your hair was glowing like it has a mind of its own. “Sorry for calling you brat,” he grumbles while picking himself up from the ground.

Great, his clothes are wet. The least he can do is take off his boots and vest and set them aside for the entire night. He starts taking off his vest, glancing at you every so often. He hopes you don’t see him gauging your actions like a schoolgirl who just got their first dose of attraction. His movements start to slack when he sees you putting your hair over your shoulder, giving him a glimpse of your collarbones and neck. It stays like that for a solid minute — you, squeezing water from your hair while he’s gawking like you’re a painting in a gallery. You look up through your eyelashes and meet his gaze. He swears he hears a choir singing in the background at the sight of your smile. A sharp pierce through his chest jolts him out of his trance. Fuck, you’re still looking at him.

Praying that you won’t see the telltale signs of a flush coloring his skin, Levi turns in the direction of the woods. Conviction molds with his steps, never looking back at you because he might bury himself six feet underground if you’re still appearing radiant as a newborn goddess.

“Where are you going?” He hears you shout for him. Still, he continues walking.

“To gather firewood.”

“But aren’t you injured?”

Levi looks down at the gash on his palm. He clicks his tongue. “I can manage.”

Coral skies turn inky black, the stars peeking through the heavens with each chirp of the crickets and forest animals through the night. The tangerine flames of the fire dance alongside the tunes of the fauna. The wet clothing sticking on your skin warms up in an hour of just sitting by the fire. Levi once again volunteered to find any food in the forest and he’s been absent since the night has started. You notice how he never looks you in the eye no matter how many times you try to catch his gaze. He always looks down while moving around your little campsite, occasionally glancing at you when you least expect it but swiftly turns away once he does so. It’s almost like he’s avoiding you. The layer of confusion settles into a pit of nervousness around this man. Maybe he’s doing this because he finds you unconventional.

“I hope you tolerate fish.”

He’s still not looking at you. He’s busy tending to the fish he’s flipping on the frying pan that looks like it’s gleaming against the flames. He must’ve scrubbed it clean so many times before cooking the fish.

You observe him before answering, “That’s the only thing we can catch in this forest, right?”

Levi grunts. “I can’t exactly hunt a deer with a frying pan.”

You hum, patiently waiting for him to finish cooking dinner.

Once he does so, you two enjoy the silence offered by the night. The frying pan is between you two on the grass, both of your hands taking pieces of fish alternatively. Even though there are no seasonings to the fish, you find yourself feeling full from the bland dinner. Since then, you miss the savory soup from the tavern. As if lightning strikes you down, you deflate when you realize that all those garlic bread you salvaged from the establishment was all for naught because of the chase. Just a hint of flavoring should be enough for your tastebuds. You think of surviving with these meals for the next three days and you feel yourself crying internally. If there’s one thing you regret now, that is, not bringing some fruits from Mother’s basket. An apple could’ve been a great addition to the dinner you just had.

“Levi, can you sit here?” You pat the patch of grass beside you, your smile amiable so as not to make him avoid you more.

He narrows his eyes. “Why?”

You roll yours. “I don’t want you getting an infection from that cut.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to … heal it.”

With a skeptical raise of his eyebrow, Levi carefully sits beside you. Your hand gently takes his wounded one and he hisses in reflex. You apologize and oddly enough, you wrap your hair around his palm. He looks back and forth between your concentrating face and hand, not comprehending why you’re using your hair as the dressing. He leans back a little, eyes narrowing as he mutters, “You’re being awfully cryptic as you wrap your enchanted hair around my hand.” His dry tone makes you look up from your handiwork, your tiny sigh never misses his ears. He can tell you’re uncomfortable as well so he tries to contain his comments to himself. He has to commend the way you’re handling his wound though. It nearly makes him laugh, nearly, because he’s anything but fragile.

You sheepishly look at him again. “Just,” you sigh, “don’t freak out.”

“I’ve seen grotesque things in the Underground, sunshine, this should be nothing compared to those.”

You purse your lips. “If you say so.” You take a deep breath, close your eyes, and ready yourself in singing that olden tune Mother used.

“Flower, gleam and glow. Let your powers shine.”

Levi’s eyes gradually widen, the glow from your hair reflected in his scleras. He follows the glow from the roots of your hair down to every single lock. He sees some strands glowing brighter than the others, almost like a golden thread has been woven in your scalp. There are shining silver ones, too. You’re like a beacon in this forest. He leans away when the glow comes to his back.

“Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt.”

It’s tickling, how the wound is starting to close itself. It starts at the edge of the huge cut. There’s still blood seeping through your hair. However, when the glow reaches where his cut is, he can feel the viscous liquid trickle back to his veins. Everything is moving backward in his palm. Are you worth more than any treasure inside the walled kingdom? Because it looks like you’re worth even more than the entire continent combined. You have magic in your veins, in every fiber of your being, and Levi is merely mortal compared to you. Even though he was gifted with adept endurance and prowess in battle, you’re out of his league, everyone’s league for that matter. He can’t conjure a healing spell with a song. You even look so serene while doing that. His wound is stitching itself, every cell rejuvenated to its optimal condition before he recklessly ruined the skin.

“Change the fates' design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine.”

His pupils are shaking and his breathing picks up as he stares at you. Then, you finish the song and he can see your eyes glowing with your hair. It dims down at the last syllable of the tune. “What once was mine.” You look so wary and you’re trying to make yourself look small by shrinking in yourself again. He can’t help but stare at you though. He just witnessed you execute the most arcane of abilities. Magic was never prevalent in Paradis and those that were capable enough for such an advanced feat were few and far between. There were no people who tampered with the enchanted arts who publicly announced their talents in front of others. Mostly, they’re like Yelena who hides behind masks, catering their learnings to an unaware audience. They say it’s easier to push for folly when ignorance is in play.

It’s only then that Levi detects your dainty hand unwrapping your hair from his now healed one. He raises his clean appendage in the air, his blank face not betraying what he thinks. Your mind is a mess at this point. He opens his mouth but you stop him before he utters a word.

You hastily wave your hands in front of you. “Please don’t freak out!”

Levi closes his mouth. Now, he’s thoughtful. He unconsciously hums like everything that happened during the day sounds so interesting to him all of a sudden. “I’m not freaking out,” he bluntly tells you. You brighten a little at that so he continues to make you feel better without him realizing it. “I’m just interested in what your hair does and the magical qualities that it possesses.” He raises his chin in observation. “How long has it been doing that exactly?”

You twirl a lock of hair around your finger, a nervous chuckle spilling from your lips. “Since as long as I can remember.”

“Is this the reason why your mother has been overprotective of you?” The annunciation of the words starts slow, tentative. He has no plans of you putting on your shell any time tonight. If he has to be beside you for the next days leading to the festival, he should understand how important you are and how much magic you are carrying inside your little body. That way, he will do a better job at fending off threats that dare breathe in the same radius as you, like those weird palace guards that look like they’re going to dissect you any time of the day.

As expected of your guide, he nails it with his perceptive guesses. You laugh a little yet it doesn’t contain the same lightheartedness that you’re attempting to portray. “Mother told me that people tried to cut it when I was young, that a single strand can cure epidemics and a whole lock can bring back the dead. But once it’s cut,” you put your hair over one shoulder, letting Levi see a piece of hair on your nape that’s slightly different, “it loses its magical qualities and turns darker in shade. It will never grow back again.” You thoughtfully run your hands over the hair that’s slinging on your shoulder. “A power like this has to be protected. That’s why Mother told me to … that’s why I never …” You hum, tightly closing your eyes simultaneously to the painful clench to your heart.

“That’s why you never left that tower,” Levi finishes, eyebrows furrowing at the revelation. A puppy can be put into shame at the way you’re staring at Levi right now. God, please don’t look at him with those eyes. You look so lost that he’s starting to feel sympathy. “And you still want to go back there?”

Your breathing hitches. “No! … Yes?” You groan, burying your face in your palms. “I don’t know, Levi.” Your tiny reply compels him to wrap his hand around the crook of your elbow, rubbing comforting circles on your skin. “It’s complicated.”

“Hmm.”

“So,” you prolong the syllable to change the subject.

Levi rolls his eyes, knowing what’s in store with your tone. His shoulders are still relaxed so he’s not as guarded as he expects himself to be.

“If you don’t mind, I’m actually curious about the Underground.”

He snorts. “Figured.” Levi stares at the flickering flames of the fire. “I don’t want to spare you the details of my orphaned life. When I told you that life there is pretty shit, I mean it both literally and figuratively. Everything stinks — the alleyways, the houses, even the streets. It’s fucking rancid there, wonder how I survived my whole life.” The idle noises of the forest fill in the gaps. He hears you scoot closer to him, your chin resting on your propped hands. It’s refreshing to see someone so invested in what he’s about to say. Eyeing you in the corner of his eye, a small smirk lifts his lips. “Just like any other kid down that shithole, I constantly dreamed of seeing the stars, tasting the sun, and feeling every sensation nature offered. My friends used to talk about their goals with each other and they all align with mine. But what really made me want to go to the surface, are the lanterns they released during the princess’s birthday. Someone important to me told me that they're nothing like the stars because you can reach them with your hand.” He nudges you with his shoulder, eliciting giggles from you. “Sounds familiar, sunshine?”

Admiration blossoms inside your stomach. So you share the same dream. Partnered with the orange flames, your eyes earn another shine that nearly made Levi choke in his saliva. You look so childishly innocent. You tilt your head and a lock of hair covers your eye. With half-lidded eyes, Levi reaches out and tucks it behind your ear, his touch lingering on your earlobe.

You smile. “I’m so happy we share the same dream, Levi.”

A fluttering occupies Levi’s stomach, something he has never experienced before.

“This becomes even more special now, knowing that I’ll get to witness the floating lanterns with you.”

Warmth creeps up his neck, cheeks, and ears. It’s the domino effect — starting with the foreign fluttering, then the fast-paced heartbeat, finally the warmth. Now, he can hear the walls in his chest breaking.

“I look forward to seeing them with you, Levi. For some reason, I’m glad it’s you.”

Fucking hell. He’s in danger.

Levi clears his throat, looking away from your beautiful visage. “You should sleep. I’ll take first watch.” He stands up from the ground and excessively pats his pants free from dirt.

“Good night, Levi.”

He looks back at you and sees that you start surrounding yourself with your hair as if it’s a makeshift pillow and blanket. He pauses for a moment before softly returning, “Good night, sunshine.”

That night, you dream of small wishes flickering their glow in front of you, their surfaces clear to you as they reveal images you never saw in your life. You drift yourself to sleep with a small smile on your face, giddiness overtaking you at the thought of having your dream within your reach for once, and you have one person to thank that for.

sunshine taglist:

@leviskata @lynnleanist @chloe-loves-levi @midaribaby @tenaciouswritersheep @araveticazx @coyloves @hanges-gf @regalillegal @p1nkfl0wers @icansmellsouls @hehesafa @cherrytomato2 @notplutos @roseabelle21 @misslovingpearl @podochu @lattebabie @levislovingwife @langaslefthairstrand @bratckerman @bokkunto @butterfly-skinnylegend @notgoodforlife @fvckingeetar

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rmd-writes · 2 years ago

Text

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

I was tagged by the lovely @cha-melodius 💖

Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

Top 5 works I’m proudest of (in reverse chronological order)

1. Soon (Tarlos) because 3,700 words written in 100-word chapters was a challenge, albeit a fun one! There were times when I was tempted to just say “fuck it” and write the rest of the fic as per usual, but I’d said I was going to do it in drabbles, and I’m stubborn and competitive enough to compete against myself, so 37 very smutty, very short chapters it was! I didn’t reread the earlier parts until I’d finished the whole thing and I’m really pleased at how cohesive it was in the end.

2. Let’s Get Physical (Tarlos) because of the coding I learned (thanks @celeritas2997 !) to be able to include Instagram posts and images within the fic

3. What, like it’s hard? (RWRB) because of the sheer amount of time and effort that went into writing that fic, and I think it has some of my best writing in it.

4. what i want (what you deserve) (Tarlos) because taking a fic written by someone else, and writing the alternate pov - without simply repeating everything that was in the original fic - was tricky but fun. Thank you Lola for letting me play in your universe!

5. Feeling kind of sketchy (Schitt’s Creek) because it’s a slightly different style to the way I usually write

Top 4 current wips I’m excited about

Hmm, this isn’t strictly a list of wips as not all of these have actual words typed yet but:

1. (un)professional services, my collab with @welcometololaland - we’re just having a lot of fun!

2. More Tarlos gym au

3. RWRB lawyer au part 3 aka the reveal

4. samba!Carlos (mostly cos the image I have in my head of Carlos in this fic is 🔥 and I wanna write about him)

Top 3 improvements in my writing

This was really hard to come up with!

1. A year ago, I definitely would not have been able to tell a story that is both believable on the face of it, but also as the precursor to a fairly significant twist. See for eg, to the victor, the spoils and you’re all that i need

2. Related, but not quite the same, I think my story telling has improved generally

3. I’m checking my stats less, which is far healthier. Is that an improvement in my writing? Maybe not directly, but it’s related.

Top 2 writing resolutions

1. I’ve said this before, but to use a beta more regularly. I do a lot of beta reading myself so I know the benefits of using one, and I do generally have a friend or two living in my docs and to bounce ideas with. But I know my writing could be improved on immensely by taking the time to have a friend actually beta it!

2. I don’t have to do All The Things

Number 1 favorite line

I’m cheating and this is two lines but they belong together and I can’t split them:

They say goodbye in the watery dawn light, between soft cotton sheets, in a tangle of limbs; writing their love for each other into their bodies with every gentle sweep of their fingers, every tender brush of their lips, every roll of their hips and the press of their bodies together.

They say goodbye in the hush of words whispered into the space that feels sacred between them, reminders of a love that feels infinite and unknowable, and yet a love that Alex knows as surely as if it were tattooed onto his skin for the world to see.

Tagging @paper-storm @actual-sleeping-beauty @strandnreyes @treluna4 @stereopticons @mostlyinthemorning @hippolotamus @cinnaluminum @liminalmemories21 and anyone else who wants to play

#tag game #rmd writes

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dandelionlovesyou · 2 years ago

Note

If THG's characters are a fanfic writers/readers, what do you feel would be their AO3/ffn account name and icon?

Also, what would be their preferred read (example : rating = K, T, G, M, E; type = canon, canon-divergent, modern AU etc.) and what kind of comments would they leave on a fic?

You can include as many characters as you can or want.

Thank you so much 😊

@curiousnonny

Hi @curiousnonny!

Thank you for sending this ask to the fandom world =) I super enjoyed everyone's answers. Here is my take =D

Katniss - I’d say she’s mostly a reader of Prim’s and Madge’s fics. She didn’t even make her account, Madge made it for her at the library with her phone using the school’s free WiFi. Madge named her account ineedAwarmaHug0508 and Katniss was totally mad about it, but she didn’t know how to edit or delete the account so she just scowled at Madge the whole week. One day, Madge showed her a black and white fanart sketch of her OTP made by Whatsyourfavoritecolor314 and she decided to subscribe to it. She didn’t know the whirlwind she was in for because this account updated regularly and posted impeccable works. At night, she would end up reading the fanfics that Whatsyourfavouritecolor314 made the fanart for. Rating limit: M. But writers often rate their stories lower so …

Prim - Writes mostly fluffy stories. Those with cats and dogs, warm hugs, flowers, and the meadows. Loves modern AU and travel fics. She lets her ship kiss in the third chapter because she can’t stand slow burn. Madge always tells her to wait and to build things up even more but she doesn’t like it. If they’re meant to be then they’re meant to be. Her OTP likes holding hands, smiling at each other with the biggest and goofiest smiles, and making chicken soup and hot tea when one is sick. They always get married at the end. Toastbabies are a must in every epilogue. Her account would be lifeisbeautiful. Her icon would be a yellow flower.

Peeta - Of course a fan artist! But he also dabbles in writing because he is very good with words. He’s Whatsyourfavoritecolor314 and he supports all kinds of fan artists out there. He would leave a lengthy comment that you would reserve reading last because you want to take your time savoring his praise and replying to his comment. His writing is mostly dark and he writes every time he has a nightmare. It helps him sort out what’s real and what’s not real. His writing account is under a different name: nobodyneedsme. Finnick and Rye are the only two people who know his writing account. He often gets fic recs from people in the fandom.

Johanna - Definitely a chili pepper in her writing. She loves writing threesomes, narrating all the bodily fluids that get released and sucked by whoever in the tangled mess of limbs and hair. Invents words for body parts that leave everyone wet and blushing. She uses languages from her heritage and loves making things spicy hot (hot! hot! hot! ) Only writes angst, and canon-typical violence, and there is no assurance of a HEA. Read at your own risk. You don’t like it? Don’t read. Never skip the trigger warnings in her fics. She couldn’t care less about hits and subscribers. She has a gazillion followers though, because of her smutty fics, and she rolls out drabbles faster than you can send an ask. Account name: JoMason07

Rue - besties with Prim. They do a lot of collab during the weekends and have an actual notebook where they write their ideas. They switch between chapters and plot the whole story together while giggling like crazy for their OTP. Rue makes a playlist for all of their fic and they listen to it while they write for inspo. Account name: ihavewings. Writes K to T, but she and Prim are thinking of writing up to M after they graduate from high school.

Effie - fandom mom. Organizes writing sprints, book rereads, and challenges. Checks up on everybody. Runs an impressive archive and posts like clockwork. She invests in setting up prizes for challenge writers, fan artists, and readers. Reads all fics. M are her faves.

Haymitch - reader of historical AUs. Leaves drunk comments which Plutarch Heavensbee has to rationalize. His icon would be his goose.

Gale - reader. And he only reads because he found out from Prim and Rory that Katniss reads fanfiction. He loves historical AUs and multi-chapter dark fics. He leaves comments that create an uproar and he gets into a heated exchange every time. His icon would be a black and white wolf with piercing eyes. Account name: SilentHunter

Annie - ships extraordinary ships. Super loyal to her extraordinary ship, writing stories that go up to 70+ chapters. She writes until her characters are senior citizens, living peacefully and loving each other just like when they were teenagers. Icon: a lady with her back to the camera, staring peacefully at the horizon by the beach. Name: lovingstories

Finnick - loves dragon fics and fairy tale/ Greek/Roman-inspired fics. He doesn’t write but leaves lengthy comments that give writers ideas to research and integrate into their stories. Name: anysecretsworthmytime. Icon: A photo taken from behind of him hugging Annie during their afternoon walks by the beach.

Cinna - reader, gif, and fic aesthetic maker. He helps you leave an impression. Icon: eye with gold eyeliner. Name: eyeforbeauty

I suppose that’s it. This was fun and hard at the same time. Lol.

Take care, @curiousnonny

#answered ask #ao3 names and accounts x thg #fun

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joyfulhopelox · 4 years ago

Text

Cut to the Chase (m)

Pairing: Jimin x reader (Lawyer!au)

Genre: smut

Warnings: pwp, all consensual: dom/sub (interchanged between the 2 characters), pet names, hate sex, unprotected sex (fictional characters can, you can’t, wrap it before you tap it!) some light bdsm themes (pinching, biting, ass slapping once!), oral (m receiving), begging, no aftercare, a bit of cockwarming? lots of dry humping….swearing….think that’s it?

Summary: The rivalry between you and Jimin knows no boundaries. Yet whenever there is a need for release you always seek each other out. Let the games begin.

Word count: 3.4k

rating : 18+

A/N: Huge thank you to @bangtanhome for not only being my beta but also my support and fangirling with me over this Jimin. Thank you Moon ILY so much for taking the time to edit, scream and once again giving me incredibly useful pointers! You are an angel. I meant it when I said I will dedicate all my nsfw work to you. I couldn't have reached this point without you.

This is a side story to my mafia!au chaptered fic Voir Dire (you don't have to read that first, this can be read as a stand alone). Originally I was not going to write this then I changed my mind and here we are! (@mochi-molala i'm not sorry by the way)

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you, or feel free to leave a drabble request as they are open and I would love to hear your ideas! Enjoy!

“What was your case about?”

Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, your eyes widen at him. You weren’t prepared for this question by any means and so your mouth agape struggling to get the words out. “I thought we wouldn't discuss cases.” You finally managed to blurt out, and Jimin smirked. “Then let’s not discuss cases, there is a reason you called me here, and it’s not to make small talk.” You wanted to tell him that you doubted he was making small talk with the person on the phone, the aggravation in his voice a clear indication. Yet, your brain couldn’t form any more words as he grabs you by the back of your neck, placing his soft lips onto yours in a rough kiss. You gasp, your lips giving him enough room for him to slide his tongue in your mouth. The kiss is not romantic, it was cold and rough, but a distraction that you needed. With a moan, you let yourself be pulled under him on the couch, the hard planes of his body easily dominating yours.

Moaning into the kiss, you bucked your hips to meet his, the dry friction of his belt buckle against your clit causing a spark of electricity to run up into the pit of your stomach. Your lips attacked each other in a frenzy, the smacking sounds echoing throughout your apartment only broken by the heavy breaths you took in between. Bruised and battered, your lips felt on fire as he nipped at them, his hand tangling in your hair in an attempt to bring you even closer to him. “Jimin-” You let out a breathy moan, your voice muffled under the attack of his lips. Pausing his assault on your mouth at the sound of your voice, he propped himself up on his elbows, the hand in your hair now resting by the side of your face.

The couch felt cramped, with him on top of you, you felt cornered, unable to escape. Yet this has always been the nature of your relationship. He would dominate whenever you would find yourselves in this situation, which happened to be a lot more than you’d care to admit. Not one to submit, you’d try to fight him for the lead, but in the end, you’d always end up a writhing moaning mess under his firm ministrations. There were no feelings between the two of you, there will never be. It was just pure unadulterated pleasure and both your needs to let go of frustrations.

Your first sexual encounter was years after you passed the bar, the both of you sharing so many connections and hanging around the same crowd during parties. It started with a few heated drunken gazes that never went further than that. Until one night when you found yourselves at a company party, in a bathroom, your tight dress pulled up to your waist and him pounding his length into you with so much ferocity it didn’t take long for you to come. The anger and the stress of your job, your unspoken frustrations and bitterness fuelled this consensual relationship. Since then, you’d call on each other whenever you needed. You would never feel anything more than hatred for Park Jimin, that much you knew, but you decided that you couldn’t avoid him.

You could feel the length of his body pressing against yours, his legs slotted between yours. He was close, yet not close enough for you to be able to fulfill your own desire. With a huff you pulled on the lapels of his suit. “Park.” The warning in your voice didn’t phase him, it just made him smirk. The power play had begun.

“Y/N, do you know how expensive this suit was?” You opened your mouth to respond, only to be thrown into a world of pleasure as Jimin suddenly thrust his hips forcefully against yours. “Did I say you could talk?” You mewled, your eyes tightly shut. You could see white dots behind your eyelids as the pleasure from him rubbing against your mound mixed in with the pain of his belt buckle slapping against your pussy lips. With your mouth parted in a silent moan, you threw your head back, the electrical sensation running from your cunt to the pit of your stomach too much for you to handle. Jimin grunted as he slammed his hips against yours once more, this time letting his whole weight drop on top of you. “That’s it, kitten.” The way you came undone under him made his dick uncomfortably hard in his trousers. Your head was thrown back against the couch exposing your neck to him, your chest moulding into the hard planes of his and your legs were shaking from the strain of trying to lift yourself up to meet his assault. You already looked thoroughly fucked and he’s barely done anything.

With a bout of male pride blooming in his chest, he smirked. “Look at you, so needy, so wanting.” The hand that was previously in your hair trailed a path down your neck, towards the side of your breast where he stopped. Taking his time, he ran his thumb against the soft flesh underneath, earning him another moan. “That’s it. Talk to me, let it all out.” With a wicked grin he quickly pinched your hardened nipple between his fingers.

“Park.” You tried to sound threatening once more, yet the hot pleasure running through your veins prevented you from doing so. Instead, even to your ears, you sounded so wanton you would have blushed under normal circumstances.

“Yes, Y/N?” The fingers holding your hardened pebble pressed harder. He wanted you to beg, to submit. Gasping, your hands tightened on his suit jacket and with the last of your sanity you managed to mutter, “ lf you stop now I swear I will make you regret this.”

Jimin laughed at your attempt to threaten him. As if he was planning to test your patience, he let his hand drop from your breast back onto the couch at the same time as he slid his leg from between yours and lifted himself up. “Now kitten, that is not a nice thing to say.” His plump lips in a permanent smirk irked you.

You may have been a writhing mess underneath him until now, but it wasn’t like you didn’t have a few wild cards up your sleeve. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows to get closer to him, your knee lifted slightly coming into contact with the growing bulge in his trousers. Pressing just enough to create friction, you mirrored his smirk as you watched him close his eyes in an effort to remain silent.

“Y/N.” A warning in the form of a growl rumbled from his chest.

“Park.” You purred back, your finger trailing down the buttons of his shirt feeling the taut muscles underneath.

You revelled in this power play, the constant push and pull, the change in who was dominating and who was submissive, just the thought of it made your muscles clench. You could feel how wet you were, any slight movement making your panties stick to your pussy. Suppressing a moan, you tried to rub your legs against each other in an attempt to get the friction that you needed.

“Tsk, not so fast, kitten.” Jimin’s knee, still slotted between your legs, pressed down onto the side of your thigh stopping you from chasing your high. With a groan you decided that enough was enough. The hand that trailed down his shirt reaching its destination you grabbed onto his belt and pulled him roughly towards you. “I’m done playing games, Park. You either come fuck me or you get the heck out of my apartment.”

“You don’t say so, cat’s got claws now huh?” His plump lips molding into a tantalising smirk, he pressed his knee harder against your thigh. It’s painful and you knew it was going to bruise, but the hand that reached out to grab a handful of your inner thigh was a good distraction. It’s dangerously close to your wet core, so close that the imprint of his fingers seemed to be directly on your cunt than your thigh. Jerking from the unexpected sensation your hands grasped at anything that could ground you in place. You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress the moan that threatened to escape. You wouldn’t let him win. “What was that?” He leaned in closer to you, his lean body pressing into you once more.

“Fuck you, Park Jimin.” You could barely speak, his closeness trapped his hand between the two of you, the pad of his thumb now directly slotted between your panty clad lips. The pressure felt incredible, and you arched your back in an attempt to push against him. “You’re wearing trousers, kitten, and I can still feel how wet you are. Are you that horny for my dick?” Without warning, the pressure increased as he started to drag his hand up and down, your slick underwear now bunched between your nether lips.

Pressing himself harder into you, he dragged the hand trapped between your bodies to lift the hem of your shirt before taking it off. Without a care for your clothes, he pulled it up swiftly, exposing your breasts to him. His hardness made direct contact with your heated core as he roughly kneaded your breasts through your bra. Whimpering, the painful sensation from his earlier assault mixed with the pleasure of him rubbing himself against you gets you closer to your release. You could feel the pressure building up in the pit of your stomach feeling like hot white coals. You knew that if you came undone like this he’d win, but when the hand on your breasts grabbed your bra and pulled it up and his hot mouth latched onto your nipple tightly, you don’t care anymore. Bucking uncontrollably under him, you felt your pussy muscles clench, moaning his name loudly as your release washed over you unexpectedly.

“Mm, you look appetising when you come.” His pants brush over the sensitive nub, his teeth still nipping at your breast. Still coming down from your high, your thighs trembling, all you could do is whimper at the sensation. “I think this is Jimin 1; Y/N 0, don’t you?” Despite the small shocks that travelled up your spine from the aftermath of your orgasm, you grit your teeth.

“Fuck-” with effort you managed to push him away from you, “- you.” You untangled your leg from under him and you pressed your foot against his chest. With the last of your strength, you shoved him away from you, his back slamming into the other end of the couch. Not wasting another moment you got up, steadying yourself before you slid your shirt off completely, leaving your bra askew and you stepped out of your trousers. His heated gaze observing every move like a predator made your skin crawl in anticipation. Once you stepped over that boundary, there was no turning back, it would be a battle of dominance. That thought almost made you moan, the expectation of what was to come made you wetter.

Sauntering over to him, you made a show of swinging your hips, your hands grabbing your breasts pinching your own nipples. “Is this what you want, Park?” Knees touching, you bend down over him, locking your lips in a heated kiss. There was no room for taking it slow, your tongues battling for dominance, Jimin moaned in your mouth as your hand reached down to grip him through his trousers. Palming his length, your other hand slid around his neck, fingers tangling into his short hair.

You loved to see him squirm under your touch, but you were impatient, the feeling of his hardness under your palm reminding you of what he felt like inside of you. In a frenzy you let go of him and undid his buckle, unzipping his trousers at the same time. The sound of your pants as you unlocked your lips echoed through your apartment.

“Vixen.” Jimin moaned as you pulled at his pants, hips jerking under your touch. Smirking, you glanced down, unsurprisingly he wasn’t wearing any underwear, the sight of his hard dick against his still clothed stomach made your mouth water. “I see you are ready for me.” You were taunting him and he didn’t like it one bit.

Without another word you dropped to your knees, your mouth wrapping around the tip, the taste of his precum invading your tastebuds. Moaning over his length you allowed him to push fully into your mouth, your tongue gliding over the sensitive underside. Taking him hungrily inch by inch in your mouth, you stopped once his tip hit the back of your throat, your hand gripping the rest of him. Bobbing your head up and down his length slowly, you savoured every breathy moan you elicited from him. The wet slurping sounds mixed with Jimin’s throaty moans made goosebumps rise on your skin and you felt your arousal burn in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N, you’re taking me so good. Your mouth feels incredible around my dick.” Jimin bucked his hips at the feel of your warm wet tongue tracing patterns along his shaft, his hand pulling at your hair. You increased your pace, humming at the taste of him, the vibrations causing Jimin shudder. The frenzied buck of his hips are an indication of his approaching climax, soyou slowed down your pace, dragging your lips towards his tip letting his cock go with a plop.

“Not yet, Park.” Your breath brushed over his length, now fully coated in your saliva, sending a shock of electricity up Jimin’s spine. He looked down at you, his lustful gaze taking in your dishevelled state. Your lips were wet and swollen and your hair was in disarray from his fingers pulling at it.

“Come here, kitten.” He motioned for you to get up, only for you to refuse him with a mischievous grin.

Slowly getting up, your knees bruised from the floor, you made sure his eyes were on you as you put on a show of slowly sliding down your panties. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, you smirked and as you threw your underwear across the room, you slowly climbed on top of him. “Time to beg baby.” You leaned in to whisper against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick at the bottom one.

“Y/N.” He tried to sound assertive, finding the prospect of having to beg you for release degrading. But when you lowered your sopping wet cunt on top of his cock and started to rub yourself against him, the friction sent shockwaves down his spine, he found himself moaning out loud. “Please.”

“It’s not nice when it turns back round on you, is it?” Your fingers dug into his muscles as your hips carried on thrusting against his throbbing length. If he wasn’t so enthralled by the way your breasts moved along with your hips, he would’ve smirked. You were finally letting your dominant side take over.

The feeling of your wetness coating his dick and your pussy lips spreading over his length made his breath hitch. He would come soon all over you if he let you carry on. With tremendous effort he dug his fingers into your hips, halting your movement. “I don’t think so, cat.”

His hand on your breast squeezed once more before he brought it down to your dripping cunt. The sight of his length against your mound made him lick his lips. You looked delicious enough to eat, but he wanted to be inside you. His fingers found your clit and he pinched it roughly, making your hips spasm. “You are so wet, so sensitive.” As if to demonstrate, he thumbed your clit at a quick pace, almost making you lose your balance.

“Fuck.” You rasped, your hands settling on his shoulders in an attempt to keep you up right.

“What was that about turning back round?” Without a warning Jimin stopped his rhythmic thrum of your sensitive bud to grasp his dick and aim it straight at your entrance. You were so wet that it only took one thrust for him to enter you, sheathing himself in your pussy. “Look at that, smooth like butter.” You gasped at the fullness of him inside of you, your muscles clenching tightly against him. Languidly he started moving, his hips setting a slow pace that made you shiver. “Jimin.” You rasped your fingers digging further into his taut muscles. “Faster.” You begged not caring anymore how wonton you looked, all you wanted was his hardness to speed up the pace, to bottom you out.

“What was that, vixen? If you want it faster how about you fuck yourself on my dick?” Jimin taunted you, satisfied with your undone state. Not needing to be told twice you slammed your hips down his length, the feeling of his tip reaching deep inside of you making your lips part in a silent scream. “You’re taking me so well Y/N, made for my dick.” His praise awoke something inside of you, and your cunt clenched around him, milking him as you started to ride him.

Hearing his sharp intake of breath, you increased your pace, your hips snapping against his in a frenzied state. Your muscles were quivering with the strain and you let your forehead rest against the nape of his neck, your hot breath against his sweaty skin making him shiver. “That’s it baby girl, ride my dick, make yourself come.” The hand that supported your lower back slid down to your ass and he grabbed a handful of it before slapping it. Your walls spasmed around his cock, the feeling of his dick deep inside of you paired with the sting from the slap made you see stars. Your breathy moans in his ear spurred him on, he could tell you were getting tired by the way your pace slowed down. Deciding to give you a hand, his fingers grabbed your hips roughly. Without allowing you to readjust, he slammed you down at the same time as he bucked his hips, the tip of his cock reaching deep inside of you. The feeling of his length hitting your cervix made you scream out in pleasure.

“Jimin, I’m going to-” You bit his shoulder roughly as you reached your peak, painting him with your cum.

“Good girl” Jimin panted, “Let me feel you come all over my cock, kitten.”

Spasms washed over you, your thighs trembling from the intensity of your climax you fought to prevent yourself from falling on top of him. With your nerves on fire, you let him take over. Jimin felt your pussy clenching and unclenching around him and knew he wouldn’t last longer.

“Y/N, I’m going to cum.” He grunted his hips moving at an unrelenting tempo. You moaned into his shoulder barely able to utter a word. “Inside, Jimin, please!” Once he’s been given permission Jimin didn’t hesitate and with one last powerful thrust he felt his muscles tighten as he emptied himself inside of you.

The sudden silence that enveloped you both seemed louder than your pleasure induced moans from before. Jimin was still inside of you, the last drops of his cum milked by your pussy clenching around him. Sighing, you knew this would have to end soon. Now that you’ve both reached your high, the tension between the two of you was not sexual anymore. The feelings of loathing washed over you again and you pushed yourself up with a huff. The feeling of his softening dick sliding out of you followed by the warmth of his cum made you shiver.

“Nice fuck, Park. I’ll bring you a towel to clean yourself up.” You padded towards your bathroom. Finishing wiping the remnants of his cum from your legs you picked up a hand towel and wet it. As you came out of the bathroom, the silence that greeted you and the sight of your empty apartment a clear indication that Jimin’s diped and dashed. Sighing, you threw the towel against the couch as you felt your whole body relax. Some things will never change.

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jayeeintheclouds-inactive · 3 years ago

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wake up, stop dreaming

(part 1 of empty thrones and heavy crowns)

Notes: angst, major character death, second archon war, adeptus reader, dying zhongli, dead xiao + other adepti, au where rex lapis still has his gnosis, geo reader, implied (very vague) past zhongchi, unedited i have a project due in 3 days and i have not started procrastination 101

Summary: When your beloved father dies, a part of you does too.

Baba: Father in Chinese

a/n: pls forgive me i can’t describe dead bodies or write angst properly. oh the woes of being illiterate 👍

Your father had graced the world of Teyvat with his presence for nearly ten thousand years, and you think that you should’ve seen this coming.

Screams and shouts of the people of Liyue fill the air continously, becoming a constant ringing in your ear. But that is not what you focus on right now.

“Rest,” You whisper with a sad but serene look on your face. In your arms lay Xiao, who has finally succumbed to the darkness he had battled for years. He is dying, and you know that. There is nothing you can do to help him.

“You’ve served Liyue for so long. Take your well-deserved break, Alatus.” Your voice trembles, yet you still put a smile on your face for him. He opens his eyes for the last time, and you watch helplessly as his amber eyes lose all light. There is an uncharacteristic smile on his face.

Slowly, you lift his body from your lap and lay it down on the ground, making sure to arrange his blood-stained hair in the most presentable way possible. Caressing his hair, you carefully slot a Qingxin flower between his broken fingers - two of the flower’s petals have fallen off, and the rest are crumpled and dried. You don’t care.

Just as Xiao’s body starts to disintegrate into blue particles, you place a chaste kiss on his forehead before his body completely disappears. You mutter a soft prayer for your fallen friend and fellow adeptus whose contributions to Liyue will never be forgotten.

You look around. Your heart feels empty, and even though you know why, you don’t wish to face the truth. Many of the adepti, like Ganyu and Mountain Climber have long ascended to Celestia. If you could turn a blind eye to the blood-stained mountaintops of Jueyun Karst, you would’ve almost fooled yourself into thinking that this was just another peaceful, tranquil day.

But then a chill runs down your spine, and that’s when you know something isn’t right. Instinctively, you teleport to your father.

That’s where you see your worst nightmare.

Rex Lapis, in all his pride and glory, is sprawled on the ground. His archon clothing is torn and bloodied; a huge gash is visible on his chest. What usually was neat and smooth brown hair was now tangled and spread on the floor, with burnt edges of his hair. Most importantly, his eyes are shut. They shouldn’t be.

“Baba!” You scream hysterically the moment you see his state, and rush over to him at once.

“No. No, no. No,” You mutter, your face drained of colour. Gently, you turn his body around with shaky hands. Rex Lapis in his human form groans softly, letting you know that there is still life in him, and you release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

But the hope doesn’t last long. Similar to what you saw when you were with Xiao, the light in your father’s eyes is fading.

He sees you, and he cracks a smile. Wincing, he raises his right hand to place it on your cheek. You hold it firmly.

“You... you shouldn’t see me like this...” He mutters weakly, still fighting to keep the smile on his face. You choke on your tears.

He continues. “How many years... have I been on this world?”

“Shut up. You aren’t dying,” You lie to him (and yourself).

He only chuckles, but coughs out blood right after. You try hard not to grimace or cry louder.

“I’ve finished all my duties...”

“No.”

“Both Celestia and I believe...”

“No.”

“...that is it time I step down...”

“No!”

He ignores your pleas. “Do you remember when you were a very young adeptus... you were too scared to... let my hand go...”

You squeeze his hand tighter against your cheek, staining it with your tears.

“I do remember. And I am still scared to let it go.”

Because I fear that if I let it go, you will be gone forever.

It’s like your father can read your thoughts. He takes your other hand that is gripping on his archon clothing tightly, and caresses your hand with it. You can feel how his fingers tremble ever so slightly, getting his blood on your hands. You pay no mind.

“...Your dad and I will be waiting for you.”

“No. You aren’t going. Not now.”

But you too think that it is finally his time to go. He has been on this world for so long - just how many years of suffering and grief has he endured? You don’t want to imagine. Both you and your father believe that he should be having his well deserved break in Celestia, but right now, you can’t help but selfishly wish for him to stay with you just a little longer.

His fingers start to lose grip, and you swallow a scream.

“I hate you, Baba.”

“...I know, and I’m sorry. I love you.”

“...Will you tell me what Celestia is like when you reach there? I want to hear your stories again.”

“...Of course.”

When he finally goes limp in your arms, a part of you dies.

It’s like you’re a robot. You can’t tell what expression you’re making right now. Is it grief? Is it denial? Is it frustration?

His cold dead body is still in your arms, and even though your brain is screaming at you, He’s dead, he’s dead! There’s no use! You are desperately searching for any sign at all that would provide you the littlest of hope.

But there is nothing. His body is cold, his limbs unmoving, and his heart dead silent.

You finally scream.

Refusing to let go of his body, you hug his corpse tightly to you. You can’t hear anything now. The screams and shouts of the citizens of Liyue sound like they know that their archon has fallen - but you can’t hear it.

A golden flower shaped like a glaze lily blooms from the ground, courtesy of your Geo powers. But even though you are the one who summoned it, you don’t seem to notice as its petals engulf the whole of you and your father. You are about to sleep for a few thousand years, until you can face the truth again; which is probably never.

So what if you are running away from reality? Your world is dead anyway.

a/n: holy shit this is a piece of trash lets hope the other chapters aren’t as bad. was the death scene too short? i’ll try to fix it when i have the time.

#genshin #genshin impact #angst #genshin angst #zhongli #adeptus reader #platonic zhongli x reader #i am addicted to zhongchi love child au #zhongli angst

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hrina · 4 years ago

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The Thrill of the Chase, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 3.6k REQUESTED: no

hi! it’s been a while since i’ve posted something on here lol, i wonder if anyone still remembers me 🤕

this is PART 1 of the hunter!AU that i’ve been writing. while the story is a patreon-exclusive, my patrons gave me permission to post the first chapter here on tumblr for anyone who’s curious about the kind of content i offer on patreon.

if you want to read the rest of this series and unlock access to my other exclusive work, you can sign up for my patreon here. and as always, please reblog the fics you like and leave feedback for the authors, because we pour a lot of time and effort into our stories. happy reading 💌

~*~

Harry’s life is simple.

He performs only the essentials—wakes up and eats an apple for breakfast. Drizzles some lemon juice into his flask of water to keep his teeth healthy and clean. Shrugs on a few heavy furs. Lets Magnus outside to keep him from howling and pawing at the door. Sharpens his arrows. Knocks on the threshold of the cabin once for good luck. Goes hunting.

Upon returning, he crouches next to the firepit, laying out his kills and skinning them. He cooks one for himself—something small, like a squirrel, or a rabbit. Others, he saves for the market—fox, deer, coyote, boar. The pelts, tusks, and antlers are extremely sought-after (particularly by nobles), and often earn enough coin to carry him through the rest of the week.

He doesn’t entertain visitors, because who in their right mind would trek up the side of a mountain just to seek out one lonely hunter? Despite that, he’s come to appreciate his solitude. The silence is familiar—comfortable. Besides, Magnus proves both excellent and useful company, if the sheer volume of their kills offers any indication.

A simple life for a simple man.

Harry doesn’t need anyone else.

“Ready to go, mutt?”

He scratches behind Magnus’ droopy ears. One of the hound’s hindlegs thumps frantically in response. Harry chuckles, slinging his bow over his right shoulder and pulling open the cabin door.

“Come on, then.”

The sky is a dark, cloudy grey, and the smell of oncoming rain is unmistakable. Still, the two of them persevere, ducking past the trees at the edge of the clearing.

It’s a bad day to hunt.

With the threat of a storm looming just above the canopy, the animals have forgone their typical foraging patterns in favour of taking shelter. Harry only manages to kill a rabbit, and even then, it’s a messy shot. He usually gets them right through the eye—a quick, neat splice that results in minimal suffering. This time, however, his foot slips on a damp stone; he fumbles, and the arrow buries itself into the creature’s stomach.

“Fuck.”

The rabbit is still alive when he reaches it, its furry body heaving with shaky, uneven breaths. Harry kneels down, apologising quietly. His hand finds the scabbard strapped to his waist, and he draws a silver dagger from its depths.

He slits the poor hare’s throat just as rain begins to fall.

It’s easy work, after that. He pins the animal’s fluffy forelimbs together, tying them in place with thick, coarse rope. Magnus whimpers as Harry slides the creature’s limp body over his shoulder. He shoots the hound a tired look and shakes his head. Damp brown curls stick to his temples.

“Think that’s enough for today.”

The two of them have nearly made it back home—Harry’s boots squelch as he jumps over the small creek that flows close to the clearing—when Magnus perks up, lifting his snout and sniffing the air.

“What is it, mutt?” Harry asks.

Magnus releases a loud bark and takes off in the direction of the cabin. Harry sprints after him, one hand clutching his game while the other wraps around the leather grip of his bow.

“Magnus!” he yells.

The dog skids to a stop next to the wide trunk of a tree. He barks again and wags his tail feverishly.

Harry releases his bow, approaching with slow, cautious steps.

“What’s got you so—shit.”

You’re slumped in the mud, unconscious. Harry’s gaze rakes over your form, from your tattered blue gown to the leaves and twigs tangled in your hair. There are a few cuts littered across your face, arms, and chest. Rivulets of blood trickle down your wrist, spiderwebbing across your skin.

Magnus sticks his tongue out and pants.

“Good boy,” Harry mutters, bestowing a rugged caress atop the hound’s head.

He gathers you into his arms, paying no mind to the extra weight of your sodden dress. Your neck lolls over his bicep, sternum rising and falling with shallow, barely-there breaths. Harry carries you out of the forest and into the clearing. When he kicks open the cabin door, your eyelids flutter.

“Bear?” you mumble, lifting your head slightly. Your voice is grating, hoarse.

He looks at you. Your face contorts for only a moment before you slouch back into oblivion.

He sets you down onto the thick, woven rug splayed out in front of the hearth. He works quickly, shrugging off his furs and his game and discarding all of it without a second thought. Rain thrums against the roof, but the sound is lost amidst his heavy footsteps.

He hurries into his bedroom and pulls open the top drawer of his wooden dresser, fumbling for a glass jar and a spool of bandages. When his fingers finally make contact with the desired supplies, he darts back into the other room and kneels beside your motionless body.

He draws his dagger again, gripping the intricate material of your gown and slicing through it. Your corset proves far more challenging, practically embedded into your skin. He sets his knife aside, not willing to risk it. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the top of the girdle, rough knuckles brushing against your soft bosom. With a mighty tug, the structured fabric splits under his palms.

He screws open the lid on the jar and dips his thumb inside. The salve is sticky, viscous, and smells faintly of lavender. He smears it across your scrapes before inspecting your wrist.

The flesh is slashed and bloodied—how did you acquire such an injury? Canines? Claws? Harry uses the frayed edges of your dress to clean the mess. He then unwinds a few bindings from their roll, expertly bandaging your wound.

Once he’s finished, he sits back on his haunches, expelling a stale breath. His work is far from over—he needs to wash you, to scrub off all the dirt and grime staining your skin. He’ll go down to the creek with a cloth, he thinks, and saturate it with cool water. He’ll pick the leaves and branches out of your hair, and cover you in spare furs to keep you warm. He’ll prepare a hot meal so that you may eat when you wake. You’ll be ravenous, certainly.

These thoughts whirl around in his head, along with the realisation that you might expire here, lying on an old rug in the middle of a stranger’s secluded home. Still, he watches your chest rise, swelling with proof of your vitality. The sight puts him at ease.

Harry aims a cursory glance over his shoulder. Magnus is stationed at the door, wet snout resting on the ground. The dog gazes at your limp body with big, solemn eyes, as though he somehow understands the severity of the situation.

“Don’t worry, mutt,” Harry tells him, knees shuffling against the floor. “I won’t let her die.”

~*~

Three days pass.

Harry curtails the duration of his hunts. He kills only the essentials: a hare or a squirrel, something small enough to cook over the fire. He has enough coin saved up from his previous trades to last him another few trips to the market.

Every morning, he prepares a simple, homely meal for you should you wake. When you do not, he eats the food in your place—he’ll be damned if it goes to waste.

On the fourth day, he carries a bowl of soup into his room. He’s expecting to see you tucked into his bed, still unconscious. Instead, you’re alert, sitting upright and studying your surroundings. The furs that previously covered your body now pool around your waist, exposing your naked chest. When you catch sight of Harry lingering in the doorway, you gasp, fumbling for the pelts and clutching them to your sternum.

“You’re up,” he says gruffly, stepping through the threshold.

You scramble back, eyes widening in fear. He pauses.

You’re afraid, he realises, tilting his head to the side. This may be more difficult than he initially thought.

“Soup,” he says slowly, holding out the small clay bowl in his hands. “You need to eat.”

“Who are you?” you ask. Your voice is patchy and frail. “Where am I?”

He sets the dish down onto his dresser before shooting you a stern, expectant look.

“Eat.”

Upon exiting the room, he strains his ears and listens carefully. The creak of a loose floorboard—you’ve climbed out of bed. The sound of nimble footsteps pattering across the ground—you’re moving toward the door. And finally, the quiet scrape of clay against wood, indicating that your hunger has prevailed.

He nods to himself.

You’re not dead. That’s a start.

~*~

That evening, Harry is perched next to the firepit outside the cabin. The orange sun crawls down the horizon, kissing the tops of the trees. He basks in the warmth, knowing that it will soon be eradicated by the cool chill of nightfall.

He fiddles with the spit poised above the flames. He caught another rabbit, today. The creature’s fur is laid out across the grass, scrubbed clean of blood. The rest of it cooks over the fire, darkening with each passing minute.

A faint creak reaches Harry’s ears. He perks up, glancing at the door.

You hover just beyond the threshold, leaning nervously against the strong wooden beams. Harry relaxes and turns back around. He uses a long stick to poke at the charred logs; the kindling pops, and a few embers float into the air.

“What are you doing?” Your inquiry is soft, shaky.

His reply is curt: “Dinner.”

You approach warily, bare feet treading through the grass. When you spot the hunk of meat roasting over the flames, a feeble gasp tumbles from your lips.

“That’s barbaric.”

Harry rubs his palms against his thighs. “That’s sustenance.”

He stands, and you retreat. His attention then falls to your torso. You’ve covered yourself with the furs from his room; they hang just past the swell of your bottom, rendering you exceptionally vulnerable. Goosebumps crop up on your bare thighs, visible in the golden light of the sunset.

He hums. “You need clothes.”

You look down at the ground.

“That would be nice,” you whisper at last.

He merely grunts in response.

You follow him back inside, albeit from a distance. He strolls into his bedroom, pausing in front of a large trunk shoved against the far wall. Twin latches click open, and he begins rifling through its contents. After a few moments of silence, he produces a pale linen shirt and a pair of dark leather trousers.

“Here,” he says.

He dumps the fabric into your arms. You huff in surprise, instinctively relinquishing your hold on the pelts covering your body. They fall to the floor in a heap, exposing every inch of your skin.

An embarrassed squeak echoes in the back of your throat. Harry averts his eyes, staring pointedly up at the ceiling.

“Put those on,” he murmurs.

You nod quickly, sidestepping his broad frame. Now that you’re no longer in his line of sight, he lowers his gaze. Part of him wonders if he should say something else, but he decides against it. His legs carry him forward, and he disappears through the door.

~*~

You emerge from the bedroom a short while later, smoothing your hands over your hair in an attempt to look a bit more presentable. Harry resists the urge to tell you that here, in the mountains, appearances are hardly significant. He doesn’t own a mirror—such luxuries can only be afforded by the rich.

His clothes are too big on you, but that was to be expected. You’ve rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt and cuffed the brown leather trousers so that they cinch at your ankles. You’re anxious, incisors gnawing on your bottom lip and eyes darting around the clearing, like you’re waiting for a monster to burst forth from the bushes.

“Here.”

Harry cuts a sliver of meat from the cooked rabbit carcass resting on the spit. You sit down on a wide, round tree stump as he holds the food out in your direction.

At first, he thinks that you may vomit. Fortunately, though, he finds himself mistaken. After a long moment of deliberation, you accept the protein, bringing it up to your nose and sniffing it warily.

“It’s good,” he rasps, slicing off another strip for himself. “Rabbit—all white meat.”

He pops the piece into his mouth and chews. Slowly, you copy him, sighing happily as newfound flavour erupts over your tongue. You waste no time, then, impatiently shoving the rest of the meat into your mouth.

Harry’s lips twitch.

“Thank you,” you say after swallowing.

He simply nods. The two of you continue to eat in silence, grinding the remnants of supper between your teeth.

Eventually, your curiosity overwhelms you.

“What’s you name?” you ask, timid.

Harry sits back, wiping his dagger with the hem of his cotton shirt.

“Harry.”

“And how did you find me, Harry?”

A low chuckle resonates in the back of his throat.

“Wasn’t exactly hard. You were lying in a puddle of mud not far from here.”

Your lips part. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t remember any of it,” you say softly, playing with your fingers. You hesitate before elaborating: “But I—I remember seeing your face. I thought you were a bear.”

He recalls that day, how you lifted your head weakly and uttered the word before sinking back into unconsciousness. It led him to believe that you’d been attacked. Your side of the story, however, proves much more entertaining.

“Well,” he says, exhaling brusquely, “I’m not.”

You examine him with big, tender eyes. He shifts awkwardly under the intensity of your gaze.

“No,” you finally agree. “You’re not.”

He swallows and flips the conversation around.

“Who are you?”

You stiffen, caught off-guard.

“That is…hardly relevant.”

“Perhaps,” Harry says. “But it is fair.”

When you don’t reply, he continues.

“You’re a lady, aren’t you?” he guesses. “A duchess. Your gown was too pretty to have belonged to a commoner.”

“My gown?” You perk up at the mention of the dress. “Where is it?”

“Gone. I tore through it.”

You gasp. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was the only way to keep you alive,” he says simply. “Your corset was impeding your ability to breathe.”

“My corset…” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You grimace after registering the implications of his words, thoroughly scandalized. “So, you—you—?”

“Yes. I had to.”

“God,” you choke out, covering your mouth. “How dare you? You should have just—!”

“Let you die?”

His query successfully squashes your disapproval; your lips flatten into a thin line, and you say nothing else. Harry watches the creases in your forehead dwindle as you realise that he’s right. You fiddle with the collar of your shirt, turning to the side and regaining your composure.

“Thank you,” you finally murmur, trying to hide your face from his piercing stare, “for not letting me die.”

He grunts. “You’re welcome.”

Brief silence ensues. A light breeze blows through the clearing, tousling the curls atop Harry’s head. The gust is enough to extinguish the last few flames frolicking over the kindle, until glowing embers are all that remain.

“I am a lady,” you suddenly add, though you refuse to meet his eyes. “But not a duchess.”

Harry leans forward, prodding at the residual ash in the firepit.

“What were you doing in the woods?”

You tinker with the bandages wrapped around your injured wrist.

“I was to be wed,” you confess, peeking up at him. “But I—I could not bear to go through with it. One should not marry for duty, but rather—”

“For love?”

You pause at his intrusion, lips parted in surprise.

“Yes,” you breathe. “For love.”

Your gazes lock. He clears his throat, breaking the contact quickly.

“You ran away, then.”

It’s not a question. You nod, and he hums.

“What is it?” you ask, brows knitting together.

“Nothing. It’s just…I may find good fortune in this situation.”

“How so?”

He shrugs. “Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.”

Though he’s not looking at you, he can tell that you’ve recoiled.

“Please don’t,” you whisper.

He examines your face in the periphery of his vision. Your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

Just then, Magnus races out of the cabin, his tail wagging eagerly behind him. He trots over to you, sniffing your shoulder and releasing a high-pitched whine. You use one hand to swipe hastily at your cheeks; the other migrates to his head, tickling his floppy ears.

Harry watches the interaction unfold, completely stunned.

“He—he likes you.”

You glance over at him, still wary of his previous threat.

“I suppose he does,” you say quietly.

Magnus paws at your thighs. You direct your attention back to the keen bloodhound, pressing a feathery kiss to the tip of his wet nose.

Harry blinks a few times, trying to pinpoint the reason for his mutt’s newfound behaviour. At first, he wonders if his eyes are simply playing tricks on his brain. Yet with each flutter of his lids, the sight before him only seems to solidify.

“He doesn’t usually take well to strangers,” he mumbles.

When you don’t respond, he clenches his jaw tightly. Countless thoughts zoom through his head, spinning like wheels, tangling like thread.

Any man with sense would carry you down this peak, deliver you back to your family, and collect a hefty reward.

Harry is not a sensible man.

~*~

The three of you retreat indoors when the last shards of sunlight fade from the sky. Magnus circles the large woven rug poised in front of the hearth. Eventually, he collapses onto the mat, his snout drooping over his front paws. You stretch your arms into the air and yawn gently.

Harry is the last one to enter the cabin; he shuts the door behind him.

“Thank you again for dinner,” you say lightly.

You spin around and nearly crash into the hard barrier of his chest. Reflexively, his hands fly up to grasp your biceps, steadying you. He peers down at your face in the darkness, his thoughtful gaze tracing the contours of your cheeks. Your eyes are wide, lips split apart as you suck in air.

“Sorry,” you say, frozen in place.

He only grunts, releasing your arms and stepping away.

Your attention lingers on him as he approaches a wide pile of furs stacked into the corner of the room. He’s been sleeping on the makeshift cot for the past three nights, and though his back is always sore the next morning, he has yet to find a better alternative.

“What are you…?” You hesitate, rethinking your question. “What is that?”

“My bed.”

“Do you…always sleep there?”

“No,” he rasps, lowering himself onto the thick pelts. “I prefer to sleep in my room.”

He shoots you a pointed look, and you frown when the realisation sinks in.

“We—we can switch,” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.”

“I insist.” You try again.

“As do I.”

You clamp your mouth shut, unsure of how to respond. Magnus has already dozed off—his soft snores filter through the heavy silence hanging over your heads.

“He’s lovely,” you suddenly say, referring to the quiescent hound. “Well-trained, too.”

“I won’t take credit for that,” Harry grumbles, rubbing his palms against his thighs. “He was a palace dog.”

You blink. “W-what?”

“A palace dog,” he repeats. “I found him alone in the woods after a hunt. His leg was broken—the guards left him there to die.”

“That’s awful.”

He hums in agreement.

“You took him in, then,” you say. When he nods, you add, “It seems that you have a knack for nursing others back to health.”

He doesn’t reply.

“The hunts—” you start, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. “Do they…occur frequently?”

“Why do you ask?” Harry says. His shoulders wobble with a hollow chuckle. “Are you afraid of being caught?”

You inhale sharply, and he realises that yes, you are.

��No,” he says, shaking his head. Subconsciously, his voice drops an octave, taking on a soothing quality. “They don’t come around often. And even if they did, I doubt that a single runaway lady would be of much concern.”

You blow out a relieved sigh, though the uneasy expression on your face never wanes.

“You’re probably right.”

A few hushed seconds draw out, during which neither of you speak. Your bare feet shuffle clumsily against the cold floor. You appear to be waiting for some sort of cue—a sound, a gesture, anything.

“Er—” Harry breaks the peace, cocking one eyebrow. “I sleep naked.”

“Oh.”

The exclamation is unbelievably breathless. Your throat bobs amidst a difficult swallow, and you totter back.

“Of course,” you stammer. “I’ll just—”

With a trembling hand, you motion toward the entrance of his bedroom.

He nods wordlessly.

“Right,” you mumble, retreating. “Goodnight, then…Bear.”

At that, he pauses. Your cheeks twitch with a feeble smile, but you don’t comment on the sweetness of the simple endearment.

Harry remains completely still as you scurry into his room. He sits there for a prolonged moment after the door shuts, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Your features have been stamped onto the backs of his eyelids, practically seared into the skin.

At last, warm air spills past his lips, and he allows himself to utter the low, relentless reply pulling at his tongue.

“Goodnight.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #uhhhh yeah so here u go. if this flops it never happened i guess #hunterry #harry writing

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jjungkooksthighs · 4 years ago

Text

Claws of Carnality | jjk (8)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: smut, fluff and angst, abo/werewolf!au, soulmate!au, fantasy!au

Rating: 18+ / nsfw

Word Count: 7.8k we really can’t ever have a short chapter around here smh

Summary: Alacrity augments you in the aftermath of your alpha’s perfervid performance and in his subsequent summoning of you, neither of you can stave off sin from overwhelming you in the desire for each other that consumingly captures the wolf and his mate.

Warnings: alpha!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, jealous!jungkook, dom!jungkook, sub! reader, omega!reader, mentions of breeding/ruts/heats, mentions of blood, slick and pre-ejaculatory production, scenting, dirty talk (lbr I love that shit), praising, fingering (just a smidge), grinding, fellatio (cock sucking), cock worship (just a bit), breast/nipple play, nipping, sucking, begging, muscle kink, scratching, cum eating, manhandling, cursing, wet and messy sex (kind of), size kink, hair pulling, impreg kink, dual orgasms

A/N: So, this chapter took a bit longer to get out due to graduate applications, schoolwork and inclement weather that took out my Wi-Fi, lol. It also went through a series of deletions because I felt self-conscious after the original posting of chapter seven, but eventually, it came along to what I had pictured in my mind despite the rework to the style of this chapter that I hoped to make easier for you guys to read with lessened uses of terminology/vocabulary. Also, I’m not the best at writing this type of smut, so please go easy on me!

Oh, and the gif that you guys see at the top? That’s Jungkook’s outfit inspiration for what he wears at the end of the chapter. :)

As always, please share with me your thoughts about my work! There is no greater reward to writing than seeing what your readers think of what you spent so much time to create. I am eager to know what you guys make of my story, so please don’t hesitate to let me know what your thoughts are because I love to hear it!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

Meekness muddies you in the solid substratum of it that settles over your throat as you try to keep from liquifying under your alpha’s scorching gaze that leaves no part of you unscoured by its high heat.

It muffles you to a mutter as you struggle to swallow what little spittle has not dried up in your mouth at the parching sight of him as you manage, “Alpha….what are you doing?”

There had been something else you’d wanted to ask him, but in the roots that tangle thoughts around him, your perception is twisted by your peripheral field that extends only for the half nude man that looks fixedly at you.

Jungkook smirks before cocking his head to the side in quick movement in a display of avid amusement before he utters, “Is it not obvious to you, pretty? I’m stripping and shedding myself of the clothing I wore to entice you. It has served its purpose,” He turns to pierce you with a dark glare as he leans back on the wooden table behind him, the burled brawn of his arms bearing his weight as he leans back on them while his supple skin shines with the sweat that sluices it as he taunts, “I no longer require them here. Others may look at me, but no one but you, my mate, shall ever be able to touch me.”

You whine a that, your silver irises interspersed with golden streaks shimmering over him as they sliver down from perfectly plump lips that have spoken such sweet nothings to you and bedecked you in his brand as your hand absentmindedly rises to lay over the purpled petal he’d made ascend amidst the garden of you in his efforts to tend to his terrace.

You trail your visage over to the Adam’s apple that juts proudly out from the column of his neck, an irrational urge sprouting to life within you in the need to nip it for daring to sweetly stick out like the ripest berry from the sturdiest stem you’ve ever laid your eyes upon.

You lick at your dried lips that are not slicked against the tongue that tries to wet them from the arid desert of your mouth that your alpha radiates away from you as your sight slides lower until it settles over the bodacious bough of his chest that branches brashly with muscles along every inch of him, your fingers twitching in remembrance of how strong and sinewy he’d been under your digits as you’d brushed them against him.

When your sight drops along the thatched thighs that the fabric strains stiffly against in its stretch over them, a picturesque memory of what you’d done atop of one of them paints colorfully itself in your mind.

Its vibrant vividity has you biting your tongue to keep from releasing another sound as your cheeks turn themselves red like the rose you are to him while your alpha grins at the vivacious view of you, wholly intrigued by the spectacle that is you as you struggle against the slump that soon has you falling back against the door as you whimper in the damning distance between you and your alpha that takes him away from you far too much.

“Jungkook,” you imploringly plead.

Your alpha chuckles at that to push off the vanity behind him with no effort at all before he strides over to the chaise lounge made from the leather of aged cattle against the timbered wall. He is slow in the languid lowering of himself over it, his back resting against the arm of the piece of furniture as he husks, “Bring yourself over to me, pretty,” his voice deepens before one hand rises, his fingers curling inward in a come-hither motion that has your heart stuttering in the excitement electrifying it as he orders, “Come and sit on your alpha’s lap, my omega, and tell to me all that you thought of my performance that was devoted solely to you.”

In the scarlet moonlight crimson as blood that drips like wax from a never burning candle’s wick from the glass window behind him, the color sinfully stains him in a dangerous sheen of a garnet glow that emanates effervescently off him in everything that promises impurity as his eyes glint goadingly at you from around the blackened wisps of his locks that have fallen around them.

As a creature that has only known chastity’s constraining shackles your whole life in your wait for your mate, you very much want them to be crushed under your alpha’s heel, for he has already caused them to crack amidst the sweet pleasure he’s delivered to you in the forest and in the sanctity of your own chambers.

As if caught in his unyielding undercurrent, your body moves under his watery sway that sweeps you forth. Perhaps it is the omega in you that is utterly unable to resist temptation taking its form in Jungkook. Maybe it is the inescapably inexorable draw to him that paws at you to be near to him lest you incur its fangs if he is absent and away from you.

Conceivably, it could be both that have you pad forward without pause as he watches you with interest while you move, his golden irises never drifting from your own as a wave of heat falls over them and, in your undertow he’s surrounded you in, it washes over you, too.

Once you stand before him, he makes a sound of appreciation as he appraises you attentively.

One hand sinks under the furs that hide you from him, each finger suggestively sidling up along your waist while the other palm joins it on the other side as you close your eyes while your arms wrap around his muscled shoulders, his calloused and strong digits dipping deliciously over your soft skin as he hums, “Mmm, that’s a good girl. I like it when you’re obedient like this. You’re so receptive to me already, pretty,” His hands sensuously slide downward, his fingers streaming outward like a consumingly surrounding sea that washes you over in his thrilling touch while he splays his legs out before, all in one fluid motion, he pulls you forward until you fall like the tide over his hips as each of your legs pools on either side of him only for him to smirk as he amusedly muses, “So responsive to me, too, my mate. You do not resist me at all. You’re so willing to submit, aren’t you, sweetling?”

Not prepared for the sudden shift in position, you gasp in surprise, your eyes shooting open to be submerged by his golden irises beginning to seep with the licentious lust that dooms you in their dusky dimness. They beckon you to lose yourself in his deep depths, one hand diving under the thin terrain of your gown only for him to trickle the phalanges of his fingers along the soft skin of your leg. He’s unrushed and unhurried as his digits drip their warmth over you to flow over your ankle through his ascent upward, his digits oozing along aqueously while his fingers spread outward like a tributary that must get its fill as he drags them ceaselessly along.

Your breath wells up in your lungs in the anticipation that swims there and when his hand torturously trails over your thigh only to brutishly, brutally halt his ministrations, that’s when you whine, your arms tightening around him as you lean forward to lay your forehead against his own as you whisper, “Please, alpha.”

Your alpha croons, his index finger running in circles along the innermost part of your leg that borders along the sex that has not stopped crying for him since his performance as he says, “I know what you want, pretty. Do you want your alpha to take care of you again like I did in the forest? It would be so easy. I could make you fall apart so quickly with how readily you receive me, my mate,” His digit dribbles impossibly closer to where you want him most, a shaky breath falling from your lips as one of your own hands veers down over his chiseled chest, catching on all the defined muscles that ripple in its wake before it settles over his heart that beats briskly in the same time as your own that instantly stammers when his finger stops once more as you whimper out while your alpha’s eyes narrow, “Much as I wish to give to you what I know you desire, you’re going to answer to me before I do anything else, pretty. You have such a pretty voice. Use it for me, my mate.”

Your irises slip below to his lips that move so very precariously with how close you are to them and an urge soaks you to feel them, your other hand dowsing him in your touch as you draggle it along the back of his nape and up along his neck until your fingers tentatively trace the outline of them. You etch his rounder and fuller lower lip into your memory as you draw your digit around the upper one, entirely entranced by the cupid’s bow that crowns the middle of his top lip and the way that a long, pink tongue is swift to poke out of the mouth he parts for you in your exploration of him.

He laves it first along the bottom one to carefully coat it in saliva that gleams against the soft firelight that licks at your alpha from the corner of the chamber and when he dares to lap the muscle along the underside of your finger at the same time the palm on your thigh trails forbiddingly forth to cup your womanhood, you mewl.

The lewd sight stirs within you a hunger for that which only your alpha can sate.

It is as if his tongue are hands are the keys that unlocks the cage of words in your mind that he’d been the one to padlock there as you breathe, “I would very much like that, but you’ve been so good to me. You made me feel so wonderful in the forest and even dedicated that stunning performance to me that made me fall impossibly harder for you, my alpha,” you breathily profess while you pigment the column of his neck with the stain of your lips as you lightly graze your teeth along the notch you’d been staring at before to whisper, “You were so mesmerizing up on that stage while you danced for me. I’ve never seen a creature as enchanting as you were,” the hand that you’d left over his heart begins its journey anew as you veer toward the bulge in his pants that he unabashedly displays to you while you offer, “You’ve done so many other things that have exhibited your sentiments for me and I want to give you something in return. Please, let me show to you how special you make me feel, Jungkook.”

Your hand has barely even lain itself over his member that hardens at your very words before there’s a growl, your alpha’s hand extricating itself from between your legs to encircle around your dainty wrist as he roughly pulls it up and between the two of you before he warns, “Do not toy with me, my omega. Once you start, you’re going to finish, yeah? I can only control myself so much with you looking so goddamn beautiful for me while you’re on my lap like this.”

You lick your lips to whisper, “I have no intentions of playing with you, Jungkook. I only wish to please my alpha if he will allow me to indulge in him like I’ve wanted to for so very long,” you fully seat yourself on him, your clothed sex rubbing against him as you grind atop him while the hand on your waist bunches the fabric around it to draw it up and away from you to ease your access as your head dips down so that you can imbibe yourself of his taste after being denied it in the woodland, “I’m so parched, alpha…please, help me. You’re the only one that can.”

The moment your mouth ghosts over the sternocleidomastoid muscle along his neck and your breath warmly whisks itself over him, he releases you only for his hand to tangle in your hair as he rasps, “That’s right, my mate. No one but me can quench you like I can. You want to satisfy me, pretty?” His hips impetuously impulse upward against your own as he hisses, “Do it, then. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

Needing no further coaxing, you press your lips against him in a chaste, short osculation that earns a rumble from his throat in a sound that has you smiling against him as you string a line of wet kisses over him, your hips rolling atop the tented bulge that hardens inconceivably more under you as you moan at the delicious friction that cascades through you with every eddy of your hips along his member that is all too fast to try to escape his trousers.

Raptness for you floods his irises and it swells around you until you take one of his hands to delve under the furs that conceal you from him, his head falling back when you swirl your sex over him while you slide his fingers over the exposed sliver of skin between your breasts, his digits diving under the thin material of your bodice to palm at your tit as you sigh in satisfaction at the way his long, slender fingers sinfully swathe you in their hold.

Your alpha husks, “Gods, these tits were fucking made for this. They were made for me.”

“Yes, alpha…all for you,” you breathe as he kneads at your tit while you continue your expedition along the mountainous terrain of his chest and when he brings his lip between his teeth at the sight of your hooded gaze as you stare hungrily back at him, he watches the way that your irises flick toward the peaked summit of the same nipple that had taunted you from under the enclosure of the sheer shirt he’d worn to agonizingly afflict you earlier.

When you glance back at his eyes for permission, they flash dangerously at you and with a swivel of your hips that has him momentarily shutting his eyes, you seize your opportunity and enclose your mouth around the dark nipple to suckle at him only to earn a guttural groan from him as his back bows inward while his fingers dig into your hip at the same time that the digits in your hair curl inward to pull tightly as he utters, “Fuck, pretty. That feels amazing. Keep going, my omega. You’re making your alpha feel so good.”

Your wolf preens at the praise, your tongue daubing his tender areola in kittenish licks as you suction the sensitive skin between your lips, your other hand pawing at his pectoral while his thumb flitters over your own nipple only to have you quicken your pace as he strums you like an instrument atop of him.

You soon shift your attention to the other neglected bud, your lips enveloping him as he grunts with the way that you scuff your nails down his swollen peak while you twirl your tongue along the abandoned areola.

Distracted by your ministrations to his chest, your alpha does notice the way your hand seeps down his chest until it bears down over the fully hardened member to have him buck from underneath you. The movement jostles you atop him and, accidently, you nip at him only for him to pinch your own nipple between his fingers in punishment as you whimper.

Through it all, your hips do not cease their undulations over him as they continue to rotate rapturously around him, the pleasure too sweetly succulent as it glazes over you the longer that you lather yourself on him.

You are steadfast in your venturous voyage to discover more of your alpha as you frisk your tongue along the underside of his pec before continuing your descent toward the steep sierra that rises tall between his legs.

You hadn’t realized you’d been staring at his now engorged, edematous buds, but the fingers in your hair constrict around you to condense your vision only to golden irises that flare fiercely at you when he rumbles out, “Up here, pretty. I want to see your eyes while you use your mouth on me.”

“Yes, alpha,” you obediently reply as you press a hot, open-mouthed kiss over each of the eight abdominal muscles that comprise an impressive slew of sinew over the skin of his belly.

With the choker clasped around your neck, you can only go so far before it unforgivingly cuts into you and with one last sweep of your tongue along the ridges between his abs, you rise to plant your hands on his chest as he rolls your nipple expertly between two fingers, a moan tumbling from your lips as you grind with fervor over him.

Wanting him to feel just as pleasured as you are, you lay your palm flat over him, your fingers furling around him to give him a small squeeze that earns a groan him that is drawn out when you lean forward to drag your lips along the underside of his jaw that he presents to you under the light, soft brush of your mouth over him.

One of his hands finds itself under your chin, two fingers grasping your jaw as he pulls your chin up while he husks, “You really do want to please me, don’t you, pretty? If you want me that bad,” he sits up with you still sat on his lap, his eyes scintillating lethally as the pad of his thumb slides up to nudge along your lip, your saliva dripping and coating the digit that he uses to penetrate the warmth of your mouth that you close around him as he growls, “Get on your knees and take this cock into your mouth. Drink from me until you’re so full of me that you won’t wish for anything else to feed that thirsting desire within you.”

Under his command that sidles swelteringly through golden irises from under his locks, you shakily exhale when he extracts his finger from your mouth, each of you watching the way your spittle clasps itself to him before breaking off and falling between you.

You whine at the loss of him, but you know that you won’t leave you empty for long and the thought energetically bounds through you like a sylph springing through the air.

He easily lifts you from his lap and sets you on the carpeted floor, your limbs far too weak to support your weight without him as he helps you to fold your legs under you so that you sit on your heels like he’d ordered you to do.

A lagoon of fabric from your skirts profoundly puddles and spills outward around you as you stare at the bloated bulge in his trousers, your salivary glands secreting spit as your mouth waters at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

Your fingers fiddle with the linen lining the end of your alpha’s trousers, however, as diffidence coils around your ribs.

You have never pleasured a man with your mouth before, for it is a rule that such intimate practices are not to be engaged in unless a wolf has presented as either an alpha, omega or beta.

At your hesitance that is made palpable in the way that you chew at your lip, your alpha softens if only for a moment as he hunches over you, both hands laying along the sides of your jaw as his tone lightens when he asks, “What is it, pretty? Are you having second thoughts? It’s alright if you are. I would never have you do anything you didn’t want to do.”

His support only makes you want him more, for there is care that he’s imbued innately in each word that flowers within you under his reaching radiance.

His irises search your own beseechingly and you place your own palm atop of his as your cheeks redden with embarrassment that shyly quiets you to a whisper as you tentatively confess, “It’s just…it’s just that I’ve, well…I’ve never done this before. I want to satisfy you, alpha, but I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it or if I’ll even make you feel half as fulfilled as you did for me in the forest.”

Your alpha only smirks at that, his expression darkening damningly as understanding shadows him while he utters, “All the better for me, my omega,” He turns his hand to capture your fingers between his own as your digits intertwine with his own as he drifts your joined hands toward his weeping member, “The only cock you will learn to fuck with that little mouth of yours will be mine. You shall only know my knot on your tongue. I alone will gladly teach and instruct you on how to pleasure your mate, pretty.”

Familiar fire ignites in you as his promises plunder your being with anticipation. He strews your hand just above where his tip leaks through the linen before, with a scalding glance, one of his palms is crossed over the other and without pause, he trails them seductively slow up his thigh in a path that will drive him right where he needs it.

You watch, entirely engrossed, as fingers are rubbed against his member, a heaved breath forcing itself through ajar lips that follow with a clenched jaw as he rasps, “The first thing you would want to do is get me hard like this, pretty. I don’t have to be for you to take me in your mouth, but it’s better if you, ah-“ you spare no time in replacing his hands with one of your own, your fingers stroking him through the fabric as he groans, “-Yes, pretty, just like that. Shit. Take my cock out now. The pleasure is increased tenfold when there are no barriers that bar you from me.”

You obey, your breath hitching at his considerably large size once again as your alpha makes quick work of his soiled trousers.

Your ardent awaitment of him is not long when he sheds the last piece of clothing he’d had only for your eyes to widen as large as stars at the sight that greets you.

Your eyes widen in wonderment as you quietly gasp, “Alpha, it’s… it’s enormous. You’re magnificent, but,” you gulp as you stare, “do you think that will fit?”

Your alpha caresses your jaw as he coos, “It will fit if I wish it to. You were designed and created for me by the moon above, pretty. I know you can take me.”

Nestled between thick thighs, his sizeable shaft arcs upward like a crescent moon with constellated veins spanning through the sky of his skin, the bulbous head framing it all where it hovers over his abdominals like a planet that you’d very much like to explore yet have never seen before.

“Still, how are you even larger than before, Jungkook?” You blurt, your fingers dipping down to gingerly pad over him in your fascination of his behemoth dimensions as he bites down on his tongue to keep from bucking underneath you, for he does not want to startle you.

Between his legs, you stare at him with the eyes of a doe rather than a wolf from your inexperience that tucks your tail between your legs and he is intent on ensuring that nothing will deter you from venturing out into the field where he waits anxiously for you.

“This is what you do to me, pretty. You make me like this, for it is my need for you that makes me so much bigger to you than before. I have been denied of you for far too long, my omega,” his fingers enclose around your wrist as fervid fervor fills his irises before he orders, “Put your little hands around me, pretty. You can be as gentle, or as rough, as you wish.”

You do as he says, instantly wrapping your hands around him and then blinking innocently at him as you tilt your head to the side in question.

The moment your touch titillates him, his brows pull together in concentration, for your fingers are far smaller and more delicate than his own in their timidity that holds them back.

Despite it all, you are a sight that is far too beautiful to behold as he encourages, “That’s it, my omega. Now, open wide and take me.”

Tentatively, you part your lips as each of your hands bring his member down to your gaping maw. The closer it gets to your mouth, the more colossal it towers over you. All it takes for you to gulp and push down the lump of apprehension in your throat is one glance up at your alpha, whose irises simmer over your own with the heat of the sun as he draws his lip between his teeth while he devours the vivid visage of you between his legs.

There’s so much you want to say to him, but right now, there’s only one thing that can possibly show to him what you feel for him.

When he finally breaches you and his heavy girth falls over your tongue, it is warm like the rest of him and engorged with the blood that rushes to it as you try to nestle him between your lips the best that you can.

He tastes of a musky tanginess that is mixed with a salty, briny tint. You find that it is not an unpleasant flavor.

Your walls contract around nothing when you watch his face contort to one born of pleasure in an accidental brush of your tongue along the underside of his shaft in your attempts to gorge yourself of more of him. Like this, his base is still grasped by each hand as he sinks his fingers into your tresses to urge you forward impossibly more.

Like this, he’s resplendently ravishing as he succumbs to the damned delirium that you are solely and wholly the bringer of.

You’re not sure if the human body was created for this purpose, but you do know that your alpha’s pleasure is the only thing that matters to you now. There’s a feral rawness in him that has slept in him and you want to be the one to awaken it. You’ve always been a stubborn creature and you aren’t about to let unseeded unsurety stop you now when you can see the glimpses of the satisfaction you could grant him like he has for you.

There’s something so gratifying in knowing that you could be the source of his pleasure and so, you experimentally swirl your tongue around his tip that sobs with precum as you allow him to plunge himself even deeper inside your mouth.

Your alpha’s head is thrown back at that as he groans, “Yeah, fuck, pretty. Gods, I knew you could do this. So fucking perfect me, my omega… my mate.”

Inch by impossible inch, your alpha penetrates you inconceivably as you lick at him like a cat starved of its water for days. The hand in your hair starts to push and pull you to and fro and you watch, captured by captivation, as your alpha’s breaths begin to become uneven and heave into pants as he stares heatedly at you.

“Use your hands, pretty. Touch me.” Your alpha husks and you obey, each of your hands constringing around what you can’t fit inside your mouth as you stroke him up and down, your fingers catching along the veins that you take care to caress as you squeeze in a vice-like grip his member that throbs under you.

Your alpha gives a grunt of approval, his back arching as his eyes screw shut under your ministrations as his lips part in pleasure.

Your confidence grows the longer that you lave at him, unsure of what you are doing but nonetheless spurred into action as your alpha clutches your hair between his fingers to secure you to him as you fleetingly flick your wet muscle against his sensitive glans while your alpha laments.

As you stare up at him, he is carnality’s manifestation in the way that the scarlet light erotically colors him in passion’s dangerous hue, his sculpted brows scrunched together under wild curls that curve voluptuously along his angular face.

Lost in him, you make the mistake of scraping your teeth against him only to earn a sharp hiss from him as his fingers tighten in your locks.

Breathless, your alpha’s eyes open while he grimaces, “Loosen your jaw, pretty girl. That hurts, yeah? Try not to graze me with those teeth of yours. I know you can do that, can’t you, sweetling?”

You pull off him with an apology already on your lips, “I’m sorry, alpha. I didn’t mean to harm you. I’ll be better for you, I promise.”

Your alpha coos, “You already are the best for me, pretty,” he brushes his knuckles under your mandible, “There is no one I would do this with beyond you. You’re mine and you will learn, my mate. I do not expect you to be perfect when this is your first time. You’ve been doing so well already, my omega. All you need to do is relax for me.”

Your wolf bays at his praise, affection for him blooming inside you as his words water you.

You heed your alpha’s command, your maw slackening as you guide him back between your lips. This time, you swallow him as far back as you can possibly guzzle him, your mouth flooded of all that is him as you whirl your tongue lasciviously around him.

Your fingers compress around his base while one hand, with renewed spirit, seeps over his balls as you fondle them, your alpha’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as you claw away at the last of his control to cause him to buck into your mouth, his cock driving itself even deeper down your throat until it buries itself so far back that it blocks your airway, hot tears quick to burn at the edges of your eyes as he hits your pharynx and blocks your airway.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Suck me, my mate.” Your alpha drawls out, the efforts of speaking laboriously difficult in the breaths that strain to dislodge themselves and leave him.

It is a sensation you have never felt before to have your mouth so thoroughly filled and though it is not the most comfortable, the pleasure lies not in you, but rather within your mate and in what you are swiftly reducing him to. You would do this a thousand times if it meant wracking your alpha to this.

Ever the dutiful omega, you follow his decree. You hollow your cheeks as you bob your head along his length while you suckle him enthusiastically, inhaling through your nose in spite of the breath that eludes you throat.

“Gods, yeah, pretty. Right there, right there. Fuck me, you’re going to drive me crazy, ” Your alpha rasps as you unsuccessfully try to silence the gag that erupts in the back of your mouth while his fingers knead into your hair to tug at the roots as he thrusts into your mouth to plummet lecherously lower.

Spit pools in every crevice of your mouth until you’re overflowing with it and, as he rams himself into you, all you can do is bear it as your slobber falls like a fountain from your lips in his jostling movements that shake your vision. His eyes have become hazed with craving craze for you and you relish in the way he struggles for breath just as you are in your damning decimation of him.

Transfixed by the way your eyelids flutter as his dick disappears into the wet warmth of your mouth that he could spend forever in, he husks, “You’re so hot like this with my cock between your lips, pretty. You like this, don’t you? You like sucking your alpha’s dick?” He asks while he watches in interest the way that your saliva escapes the cushion of your lips that pillow him inside you, his thumb brushing it away and back over your lips.

You moan to let him know that yes, you really do enjoy seeing the way you’re wrecking him through your own devices. Right now, this is about him and seeing his pleasure is far more satisfying than anything you could have imagined. Knowing that you are the one that is affecting him in this way is inexorably exhilarating. It makes you feel powerful. Now, it is you that holds the key to his raptured raptness.

When your alpha drags his digit along your lower lip, you hum in agreement and the vibrations shoot straight into his member as he arches his back, his head falling even farther as you work him in your mouth while he utters, “Shit, of course you do. You really are perfect for me,” one hand grabs your own to pull you down to the neglected testicles that ache for you, your fingers closing around one delicately to give him a gentle squeeze as he bites at his lip while he growls, “I’m not going to last much longer, pretty. Gods, use that tongue of yours like you did out there when you told those bastards that you’re mine. Show me you meant it, my mate. Let me see how badly you want to please me.”

His words send a wave of blazing heat through you, tenacious tenacity sweltering within you at the realization that he’d been watching from the shadows and had seen and heard everything that had occurred between you and the two wolves that so stupidly believed they would win you from your soulmate.

You swallow fatally around him, your muscle swishing and swiveling around him as you unhinge your jaw to completely take him in his entirety when he tugs you down on him. His facial expression detorts to one of unadulterated, unbridled bliss as his own tongue lolls to either side of his parted lips, his eyes closing yet again while the sounds of slurping drip from your lips with the spittle that dribbles below them.

Your alpha hums, “Mmm, fuck, you’re so good with that little mouth. You fuck my cock with it better than any bitch in this pack ever could.”

Your cheeks running red at that, you fondle his balls with one hand, your other running your nails down his chest to leave reddened marks of your own over his skin all while you greedily ingurgitate him while he stuffs himself inside you with another dangerous undulation of his hips.

When your fingers roll his balls like dice between them, that has him keening as he pants, “I’m close, pretty. I’m going to fucking fill you up so much that the taste of me will fucking linger in that hungry mouth of yours for days. You want that, yeah?”

You nod instantly, your stomach grumbling your salivary glands producing more of their offspring at just the thought of it as you suction him with eager earnestness betwixt your lips.

By now, he’s swelling and throbbing between your lips, his end near by the way his testicles palpitate as you titillate him.

Your alpha grunts before he rumbles out, “Gods, you are such a ravenous little girl for me. I bet that cunt of yours is just as starved to receive me, isn’t it, little one? Fuck, I could knot you, my mate. I could breed you so well. Do you want my pups, pretty? Do you want me to stuff you to the brim with my fucking seed so you have no choice but to get pregnant and bear my children?”

You moan at the thought of it, the ostentatious oscillations strafing over his dick as your head bounces back and forth while you quaff him to have him grunt.

There’s an urge to bask in his simmering gaze as you give him over to his end and, with another sinful swill of him within your mouth as you grope his gonads, you splutter amidst the very large cock currently nestled between your lips, “I want it a-all, Jungkook, but p-please…I w-wish,” you slabber him with your saliva as your tongue twists itself around him, “I wish for y-you to look upon me when you finish in my m-mouth.”

Each word trickles from you under the labored breaths you inhale through your nose and you hope that they are not burned by the fire that blazes in the corner of the chamber before they can reach him.

Your voice submerges and dives after him through the sea of exaltation that you have deluged him into and, in your final act to bring him back up for the air of his ecstasy, his eyelids flicker up to reveal golden irises that singe you in their voracious torridity.

You whine at the way the smoke of desire has smoldered him, his long tongue poking against his cheek as his head tilts back while he consumes you in his sights that leave you squirming along the floor as he husks, “You want me to see who has made me feel so fucking good, yeah? Very well, pretty. Watch me cum just for you.”

If the dangerous twirl of your tongue along his slit while your hand that had been attached to his testicles slides sinfully down to rub along his perineum isn’t enough to have him come undone, it’s the way that your eyes now gleam with the glazing of the yen of yearning that every blood vessel burns of yours is coated for him with as you fervently fix him inside your mouth.

You’re the picture of innocence in the white of your dress that curtains you in its angelic wing, but the cock between your lips that you ardently take between them damns you in sin’s tendrils that Jungkook captures you with.

It is his utter undoing when your cheeks fatally concave in their incurvation as you suck him with tightly compressed pressure inside your wet warmth while you run your tongue along his base at the same time he draws you forward so that your nose brushes the thicket of pubic hairs as you blink with innocent doe-eyes up at him as he howls, “Ah, fuck, I’m there, pretty. I’m cumming because of what you did to me.”

Euphoria pours itself through him like a cascading waterfall that does douse every part of him that it washes over as his knot swells inside you, his irises never abandoning you through his climax as his seed bursts out of him and spurts across every corner of your mouth.

You flatten your tongue to catch every bit of him as he feeds you his nectarous ambrosia. His thickened essence spreads and spills over your hot muscle and down your throat deliciously viscous as he makes good on his promise and nourishes your parched body with his sinful sustenance.

He spouts and streams his taint into you as endlessly as a river and when you think you might just overflow with it, that’s when he extricates himself from you, one hand rising so that his thumb caresses your swollen and abused lips as he coos, “Such a good girl for me. You did so well for your first time, sweetling,” his digit swipes at the stray bead of cum that leaks from you only to sweep his finger over your tongue and you close your mouth around him, moaning out at his tasteful tinge as his eyes flash darkly at you, “That’s it, pretty. Drink every last drop. We wouldn’t want you to thirst for me again while you watch me fight the other alphas for you, now would we?”

He pulls his digit from you with a ‘pop’ as you lick your lips as you breathe, “No, alpha. That would be a travesty, truly.”

Your alpha chuckles at that as he gathers you from the floor and when your scent wafts wantonly under his nostrils, he smirks wolfishly, “My, my, my… you really can’t get enough of me, can you?”

It takes you a second to realize, but when he settles you on his lap once more and your thighs skim each other in the movement, your eyes widen as you draw in a short, small breath.

Your alpha only arches a sculpted brow, amusement coloring his tone as he teases, “What? Surprised that you got off by humping my leg like the animal that you are while you sucked my cock, pretty?”

So focused on delivering your alpha over to his end, you’d hardly paid attention to the way your legs had clamped around one of his own as you rutted against him with fervor. You really couldn’t help it with the sight of sin that had commanded your capture under it.

You whine, your irises dipping low as you trace circles along his bare chest as embarrassment tints your cheeks red, “Jungkook, I didn’t mean to. You just… you did this. It’s your fault.”

Your alpha laughs at that, one hand settling along your jaw to coax your visage back up at him while your wolf hounds at you to obey as he rumbles, “I shall gladly take the blame then, beautiful. You know, the fact that you came from giving to me the best head that I’ve ever had,” the fingers of his other palm snake under the folds of your dress to drag through the deposit of wetness that now drapes your legs as he brings the digits to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his finger clean of you as he groans at the flavor of you while his irises dilate, “That’s hot as fuck.”

Your blush is as red as a ruby as you whimper at that and your alpha grins as his stray hand lands on your hip to trail up and down your back in soothing circular motions to reassure you. His mouth opens to say something else, but before he can, there’s a loud series of knocks against the wooden door interrupts the two of you amidst your illicit indecencies.

“This is the last call for all alphas that might remain here. The Offering is about to begin,” says the muffled voice of an elder that likely had been sent to collect any lingering wolves that were still in the den.

You whine loudly as your arms intertwine around your alpha’s neck, your baser being demanding you keep close to your alpha as he softens, the fingers on your cheek splaying out so that his digits caress you as utters, “Come, pretty. I must ready myself for what is to come and I require my mate’s aid to assist me in dressing, for you’ve temporarily robbed me of my faculties after what you’ve just done to me.”

Your wolf preens at that as your hand lifts as you lay your palm over his own while you implore, “Must we go so soon? I do not wish to leave your side.”

Your alpha stands and he’s careful to lift you up and off of him even while your arms tighten around his neck as he rumbles, “After this is all over, you will be free to be with me whenever, wherever and however you desire, my mate. You know the rules,” he moves back and you follow him in your embrace until his thighs hit the back of the vanity where his clothes sit on the abandoned chair, “I must duel anyone that tries to contest me for you, sweetling. It simply is the way of things and I will not hesitate to engage in battle with any wolf that attempts to take what is rightfully mine. You are everything to me and I will make certain that everyone knows it. Do you understand, pretty?”

You nod as you nuzzle the sensitive gland along his neck as a purr trembles from your throat while you scent him, “I understand, Jungkook. I only fear the bloody destruction you’ll leave in your wake for any fools that think they can tear you away from me.”

“That shall be their mistake, pretty,” he sighs in satisfaction as he tilts his head back to grant access as you paint him with the stroke of your lips over the tender skin along his clavicle, “I will not lose you.”

Tenet blazes in his eyes and conviction radiates his words that emit with the sun’s might their fierceness as they fall over you to set your own affection alight within you as you lace your lips along his jaw in a stripe of kisses that you thread there as you manage between them, “There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that you will be the champion amongst them all. However it may be, you have already won me, alpha.”

With that, you embellish him with the cloth he will wear in his battles for you. You help him delicately pull the garment over his head that shades him in the color of soot. It is akin to a sheet of thin charcoal that dyes him in its film of darkness that, like his earlier shirt, is grainy and dusts him lightly in its hue, his sun soaked skin shining brilliantly from beneath it.

Your mouth waters at the sight of it as you tuck it into cotton trousers that are black as night and your alpha smirks when the smell of your arousal drips down to collect itself amidst the pool of your taint yet again as he watches with interest the way that you chew at your lip while you tug the white blazer across bulging arms that catch at the heavier material as you drag it over him.

He makes certain to playfully provoke you by wrapping an arm around your waist only to schlep you forward, your hands planting themselves against his broad, strong chest as he asks, “Are you ready to watch me show everyone that I and I alone am the only wolf that is deserving of you as his mate?”

You nudge at the edge of his collarbone to catchily collect as much of his riveting redolence as you can before you sow another row of kisses along his skin only to pull away and admit, “Always.”

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