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itneverendshere · 4 months ago

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THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - six

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: domestic violence; blood; injuries; angst; smut;

word count: 7.6k

You saw it on the news before Sarah told you.

Ward was officially in police custody.

They were calling it the biggest crime operation in years, plastering his face on every corner of every newspaper in the country. You saw it first on your busted-up TV, the morning news anchor's serious tone making the gravity of the situation clear before Sarah had a chance to call.

He was stopped.

The man who caused so much pain to everyone you cared about was finally behind bars.

But your relief came with a bit of caution.

This was just the beginning. There was still a trial to face, and you knew how slippery Ward could be. He had enough money to buy whoever he wanted on the island if not the entire country, and the justice system wasn’t always as just as you hoped.

Trials could take months, even years before he was sentenced.

JJ cheered in the background, almost face-planting the ground as he struggled to get off his chair and call Pope. You hadn’t seen him this ecstatic in years, the hallways of your home echoing with “let’s fucking go, baby!” as he made his way upstairs.

You were content.

Was there really anything to be happy about?

Sure, a bad guy was getting what he deserved, but the destruction he left behind was still very much there.

Months ago, when the police contacted you again, you had refused to testify. What Ward did to you was terrifying, but what he did to Sarah, John B, and Rafe? They were the true witnesses to his evil.

You barely got a taste of his wrath. You were lucky. You wanted to be there, of course. Every person Ward hurt deserved all the support they could get. But watching Rafe Cameron—the boy who had idolized his father for years, now a man—sit in a chair facing countless cameras and strangers for hours as he recounted his life under Ward's control? That was a different kind of heartache.

Rafe.

You hadn’t seen him since that day he dropped by, and it felt like he vanished into thin air. You didn’t see him around town, not at the beach, and he never stopped by your job. You started wondering if he’d been cooped up in that awful house all this time.

You couldn’t shake this feeling of worry, knowing he was stuck in the shadow of his dad’s mess. Did he feel abandoned by you?

The thought of him, alone in that house, haunted you. You knew you should’ve reached out, found him as the town buzzed with the details of Ward’s arrest. More stories came out, each more horrifying than the last.

You almost gave in.

One evening, you found yourself riding past the Cameron estate. You'd forgotten how huge it was, and with the light fading, it just looked like this dark outline in the distance You almost went in, stopping by the gigantic gate, but then you saw movement inside and sped away on your bike.

You couldn’t do it.

Whatever was between you both just felt… impossible to cross.

The sound of the waves crashing—it’s always been your escape.

You've spent so much time in the water, it felt like second nature to you. Growing up, swimming and surfing were your ways to get away from your dad’s violence and your mom being, well, absent. The ocean became your sanctuary, where you could forget about the yelling, broken furniture, and bottles littering your house. Floating out there, everything bad just… melted away.

But as soon as you stepped back on the sand and headed home, all that peace would disappear. Both your parents were long gone now, but that dread? It never left. It was like the house still held onto those old memories—the shouting, the fights. Even though it was quiet now, the walls were stained with the past. The creaky floorboards, the dim light, chipped paint—You hated it all.

You've thought about leaving so many times, but something always held you back. JJ, mostly. And, well, money.

Tonight, as you got closer, something felt off. JJ’s truck wasn’t in its usual spot, which wasn’t unheard of, but it felt wrong. The windows were shut too, which You never did—You always keep them open to let in the ocean breeze.

You called out for JJ, expecting his usual shout back, but there was just… silence. You brushed it off. Maybe he was out on the boat or glued to his video games.

You dropped your bag by the door and walked inside, calling his name again. That’s when you saw him.

Luke.

He looked even worse than before—disheveled, eyes bloodshot, reeking of alcohol. He’d been gone for a year. No calls, no messages. JJ and you paid him off, made sure he left the island, but here he was, standing in your living room like he belonged.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You managed, trying to sound stronger than you felt.

He laughed, this dark, hollow sound that made your skin crawl. “Just came to see my kids. That so wrong?”

Liar. You knew what he really wanted. “You need to leave. Now.”

His face twisted, the smirk gone. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Watch me. Get out.”

He took a step back, hands up like he was surrendering. “I just need a little loan.”

You gripped the doorframe tighter. “No. You need to go. For good.”

He took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, “I just need a little loan.”

You tightened your grip on the edge of the doorframe, “No. You need to go, for good.”

For a second, you thought he’d listen, but then he took a step forward, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I’m not leaving without what I came for.”

“I don’t care,” You snapped, “Get your ass out of my house before I call the cops.”

“This is my house!” He all but screamed, the veins in his neck visible.

“Not anymore,” Your heart pounded in your chest, and every fiber of your being screamed for JJ, wishing he was here, “I’m not afraid of you,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.

He took another step forward, his face twisted in anger. “You always were a stubborn little brat.”

“And you’re a piece of shit.”

He lunged.

You barely dodged him, stumbling back into the living room. “Stay away from me!” You shouted, frantically searching for something, anything to defend myself.

Luke laughed again, that same twisted, hollow sound, and came at you. This time, he grabbed your arm, his grip painfully tight. You raised your other arm to block him, instincts kicking in.

“Stay away from me!” you shouted, frantically searching for something, anything to defend yourself.

“You little bitch,” he snarled, shoving you against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of you, but you stayed focused.

You couldn’t let him win. Not again.

“You’re gonna give me what I want,” he hissed, his breath hot and disgusting.

“No, I’m not,” you spat back, summoning every ounce of courage you had.

With your free hand, you the grabbed the nearest thing—Mom’s old lamp—and swung it at him. The base cracked against his head, and he stumbled back, cursing.

“Bitch!” he roared, blood running down his face. It only made him angrier. He rushed you, knocking the lamp out of your hand, pinning you to the floor.

You were panicking, resorting to kicking and thrashing, doing anything to try to throw him off. “Get off me!” you screamed, clawing at his face.

His hand came down hard across your cheek, blurring your vision. “You really think you can fight me?”

He wrapped his hands around your throat, squeezing. Gasping for air, you remembred that you’d been here too many times. Your hand groped blindly on the floor, finding a heavy candlestick.

With the last of your strength, you swung it with everything you had, hitting him square in the head.

His grip loosened, and you scrambled to your feet, panting as he slumped to the side, groaning in pain.He groaned, trying to get up, but you hit him again. Harder this time. He collapsed, blood pooling around him. You stood over him, breathing heavy, barely processing what you'd just done.

But then, he stirred. He reached for your ankle.

You stumbled back, “Stay down goddamit!” you shouted, raising the candlestick again.

Luke pushed himself up, eyes wild with rage. “You’re gonna pay for that,” he spat, lunging at you again.

This time, you were ready.

As he reached for you, you twisted to the side, driving your knee into his stomach. He grunted, doubling over, and you brought your elbow down on his nose. It cracked. He roared, grabbing blindly at you.

You ducked and shoved a chair between you both, but he kicked it aside. It bought you just enough time to reach the kitchen. You grabbed the first thing yousaw—a cast-iron skillet.

He staggered into the kitchen after you, blood and sweat on his face.

“You just had to put up a fight, huh? Just like her.”

“Stay back,” you warned, gripping the skillet like your life depended on it. “I’ll fucking do it.”

Luke laughed, this sick, deranged sound that made your stomach churn. Then he lunged. Without thinking, you swung the skillet as hard as you could, the impact vibrating through your whole arm as it connected with his shoulder. He staggered, but you didn’t stop. You swung again, this time aiming for his head. The sound of the skillet hitting his temple echoed through the room. He collapsed, finally still.

Oh fuck.

For a moment, the house was deathly silent.

You dropped the skillet, your hands trembling.

Kneeling down, you checked for a pulse. It was faint, but there. Relief and horror flooded through you simultaneously. You almost killed him. There was blood everywhere—on the carpet, on the candlestick, on your hands.

You stumbled back, your mind spinning out of control. What if he dies? What if you actually killed him? This wasn’t supposed to happen. You just wanted him gone. Out of your life. Forever.

Your hands were trembling as you fumbled for your phone. You couldn’t think straight, your heart racing as you scrolled through your contacts. The names blurred through your tears. You needed help, but you couldn’t call JJ—he wasn’t here. And you couldn’t call the cops. Not yet. You weren’t ready for all of this.

Without fully realizing it, your finger landed on a contact you hadn’t called ever before. Your hands moved on autopilot, and the phone was already ringing. You kept your eyes on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity.The phone rang, and you kept an eye on Luke, praying he wouldn’t move. It rang for only ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

“Maybank?”

“Rafe?” Your voice broke, the word barely making it out before a sob tore through your chest.

There was a brief pause, and then his voice came through, “Hey, hey. What's wrong? Are you okay?”

But you couldn't speak. Hearing his voice after all this time, after everything that had happened, it was too much. The fear, the relief, the chaos, all of it came crashing down, and your breath hitched.

You couldn’t think.

“Hey! Are you there? Talk to me!” Rafe's voice grew more urgent.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, a sob escaping instead. Your knees gave out, and you sank to the floor, the phone slipping slightly in your grasp. You could barely breathe.

“Where are you?!”

You focused on his words, trying to match your breath to his timbre.

In. Out. In. Out. It helped, if only a little. The shaking in your hands lessened, but the fear never disappeared.

“I think... I think I killed my dad.”

You looked at the bloodstained carpet, the unconscious body of your father still lying there. The words felt foreign on your tongue, like someone else was speaking for you.

“Are you home? Are you safe?”

“I’m home,” you whispered, “JJ’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”

“I’m coming,” Rafe said, no hesitation in his voice. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be there soon.”

“Rafe—” You began, but he cut you off.

“I’ll be there soon. Just hang on, okay?”

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself staring at the door, willing Rafe to appear. This wasn’t you. You didn’t hurt people. You just wanted peace. Why did it always end like this? What were you going to do? How were you going to live with yourself if Luke died?

Why did things never work out the way you wanted them to?

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, you heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Moments later, the door burst open, and there he was.

“Maybank?”

He called out for you as he stepped inside.

Seconds later, he was standing in front of you, scanning the room, analyzing the scene. He rushed to your side, pulling you into his arms without hesitation.

“It’s okay. I’m here. You’re gonna be okay.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple as he guided you away from the scene, his eyes lingering briefly on your father’s motionless figure.

“What happened?” He asked softly, leading you to sit on the couch.

“He just showed up out of nowhere. He wanted money. I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t. He got violent, and I... “

“It’s okay.”

His warmth helped. But guilt? It stayed. The blood on your hands—it all felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

“Have you called 911?”

You shook your head, lips trembling as you tried not to cry.

“Do you want me to?”

The thought of police cars and paramedics filling the house, made your stomach churn. The fear of what might happen if Luke woke up, or if he didn't, paralyzed you. It took you a second to realize he already had his phone out, pressed to his ear.

"I need an ambulance.”

He stayed on the line with the dispatcher, giving them your address and the details. Your ears were ringing, unable to make out exactly what he was saying.

"They're on their way," he reassured softly. "It’s gonna be okay."

You nodded, but you weren’t sure you believed it.

"They'll take him to the hospital," He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He'll get the help he needs."

"I... I didn't mean to..." you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

Rafe’s hands griped yours, despite the blood coating it, "I know.”

The minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You just wanted it to be over.

When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafe guided them to Luke's unconscious form while you sat numbly on the couch. They immediately went to work, assessing his condition and preparing him for transport. Police officers soon followed, asking questions, and taking statements. Rafe handled most of the interaction, protecting you from the brunt of their interrogations. After what felt like an eternity, they finally moved Luke onto a stretcher and carried him out of the house. He followed them to the door, speaking briefly with one of the paramedics before they loaded Luke into the ambulance and drove away.

He kneeled in front of you, “You can’t say here, okay? They called JJ, he’s on the mainland, but he’ll take the first ferry down here tomorrow.”

You nodded, feeling drained.

"Come on," Rafe urged, helping you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here."

He guided you out of the house and into his truck, the engine already running. The drive was quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from you.

Rafe reached over, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. You slumped back in the plush seat, eyes closed, trying to steady your breathing, too embarrassed to look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You didn't even register where you were headed until the truck pulled to a stop. When you finally opened your eyes, you realized you were at Rafe’s place.

Tanneyhill.

It felt odd, being there, and under such circumstances. He helped you out of the truck, guiding you inside with a protective arm around your waist.

"Sit down," he said gently, leading you to the living room. "I'll get you some water."

You sank into the expensive couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. It was weird sitting in his home after everything that had happened.

He returned quickly with a glass of water, pressing it into your trembling hands.

"Drink," he instructed, sitting beside you.

You took a small sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. Rafe watched you closely.

"You need to rest," he said. "I’ll be right here."

"But I—"

"You need to rest," he repeated firmly, "We can talk more in the morning.”

There was a part of you that wanted to argue, to insist that you were fine, that you didn’t need his help. You’d done this for years, alone. And yet, here he was, offering you help. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe you just missed him, but for once in your life, you didn’t fight him.

You nodded, letting him take you upstairs.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, noticing the blood still on your skin and clothes. "You can’t go to bed like this."

At this point, you were too tired to speak, simply following his instructions as he guided to the bathroom.

"Here," he turned on the shower and adjusting the temperature. "Take your time. I'll leave some clean clothes for you right outside the door."

You slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. The sound of the water running felt comforting, like a tiny slice of normalcy in the middle of this mess. Your hands shook a little as you peeled off your clothes, your shorts sticking to your skin. The sight of the dried blood on your hands and shirt almost broke you all over again. This couldn't be real.

You just stood there for a while, letting the heat work its way into your muscles. Eyes closed, you tried to block out the image of your dad lying there on the floor. Slowly, you started scrubbing your skin, trying to wash away every trace of what had just happened. The soap smelled like lavender, and for a split second, you smiled—this was Rafe’s scent. You recognized it from earlier when he hugged you. Somehow, that tiny detail grounded you, pulling you back to the present.

By the time you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, you felt slightly more like yourself.

Outside the door, Rafe had left you some clothes: his sweatpants, a t-shirt, and boxers—like he said he would. They were a little too big, but warm and soft, like a hug. And, well, they were Rafe’s. That felt oddly comforting.

You opened the bathroom door to find him waiting in the hallway. He seemed relieved to see you and you hated yourself for making him worry so bad.

"Feeling better?"

"A little," you admitted. "Thank you."

He nodded, then motioned for you to follow. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

He led you to a guest room, the bed already made with fresh sheets. It looked so inviting, you almost forgot everything that happened tonight. Almost.

“Sit here,” he said, gesturing to the edge of the bed. He disappeared for a second and came back with a first-aid kit. Kneeling in front of you, he gently took your hands in his. “Lemme see.”

Your hands were scratched up and bruised, still carrying the marks from your dad. You hesitated but then slowly extended them to Rafe.

“This might sting a little,” he said softly, wiping the cuts with antiseptic. You winced but didn’t make a sound. He noticed though, his brows furrowing in concern. “I’m sorry."

"’M used to it. It’s okay,” You nodded, biting your lip as he cleaned the wound.

The antiseptic burned, but you focused on Rafe’s face, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the softness in his eyes as he wrapped your hand with practiced care.

“I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”

Rafe paused, his hands stilling for a moment.

“You’re not a mess.”

You let out a short, dry laugh. “Right.”

His fingers continued their work, securing the bandage with gentle precision. “I mean it.”

His tone was so final, like there wasn’t even room for doubt.

“Why—Why did you pick up the phone?”

“You know why.”

His answer made your heart hurt, the kind of hurt that came from months of trying to keep your distance. But he wasn’t budging, and that did something to you. When he finished wrapping your hands, he set them gently in your lap. “All done.”

You sank into the mattress as he pulled the blankets over you and ssomething about it felt so foreign and so… nice. No one ever took care of you like this.

“C-Can you stay here?”

He paused, adjusting the pillows, clearly debating with himself. “I don’t think—”

“Please.”

Without saying anything, Rafe slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you. He pulled you into his arms, and instantly, everything felt a little less terrifying. His warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the faint scent of lavender—it all made you feel safe, like maybe you could finally let go.

"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."

You buried your face in his chest, tears finally spilling over, but this time they weren’t from fear. They were from relief. From release. Rafe held you tighter, his hands gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. He just held you, and that was enough. The minutes passed and your breathing synced with his, your body finally relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. The tension started to melt away, and before you knew it, your eyelids were getting heavy.

"Thank you," Your voice was muffled against his chest. "For everything."

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep.”

You snuggled closer to him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

When you woke up the next morning, Rafe was gone. The bed next to you was cold, but the events of last night still pushed heavy on your chest. You sat up, your heart dropping to the floor as you realized the nightmare wasn’t over. The bloodstained clothes on the floor, the hollow feeling in your chest—it was all real.

You felt an immense amount of guilt as you remembered how you had leaned on him for support after you cut him out of your life. He had enough going on with his own family, his own problems. And now you’d dragged him into yours.

You rolled out of bed, Rafe's oversized sweatpants and t-shirt practically swallowing you whole. You had no idea where he went, so you headed toward the door, ears perked for any clue. As you walked down the hallway, you heard voices coming from the kitchen—well, Rafe’s voice, specifically, speaking in a low hushed tone.

You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. Slowly, you made your way towards the kitchen, the sound of his voice growing clearer with each step.

“…I don’t care what it fucking takes,” Rafe all but spat, his tone filled with determination. “Yeah, I know the charges will stick. Just make sure he doesn’t get out on bail. I don’t want him anywhere near her again.”

You froze mid-step. What?

He paused, listening intently. You took another step closer, peering around the corner to see him standing by the counter, his phone pressed to his ear.

“No, she’s fine,” he continued, “But I want to make sure she stays that way.”

You felt your breath hitch. Oh my god. He was talking about your dad. He was trying to protect you, even now.

“Rafe…”

He turned around, his eyes widening as he saw you standing there.

“I’ll call you later.” He hung up fast, slipping his phone into his pocket, trying (and failing) to act casual. “Hey, you’re up.”

“What were you doing?” You asked, arms crossed. “Who were you talking to?”

“Hmm?”

“Rafe,” You warned, too tired to play games, “Who were you talking to?”

He sighed, looking impossibly uncomfortable as you sized him up.

“My lawyer. Getting a restraining order for you.”

The confirmation nearly made your brain split into two.

“What?”

Rafe hesitated, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you. Not that he even tried lately. He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, a gesture you recognized as a sign of his unease.

"I'm trying to get a restraining order against your father."

"Why?"

“Why?”

His eyes met yours, so serious. “Because you need one.”

You stood there, completely thrown. He was really doing this—for you? He was going to bat for you, putting himself in the line of fire to protect you from the man who had haunted your life for so long. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t even try to stop them.

“I’m sorry.”

"Stop saying that," He rubbed his hand over his face like he didn’t know what else to do, "What happened last night… it’s not something you should ever have to deal with. I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve—"

“You couldn’t have known.”

Rafe shook his head, "I should've been here.”

You walked closer, closing the distance between you. "Rafe, you don't owe me anything."

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently cupped your cheek. His touch was familiar, comforting and you leaned into it, closing your eyes briefly.

"I owe you everything," he murmured.

You let out a shaky breath, “Don’t say that.”

But he wouldn’t let it go. He tilted your face up, thumb brushing away a tear. “You think I’d be there if it wasn’t for you? Shit—Pretty, look around. It’s just me.”

Your heart pounded in your ribcage, the sincerity in his tone making it hard to breathe. You had spent so long building up walls around your heart, convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone, that you could handle everything on your own.

“You’ve been alone?” You all but sob, “You’ve been here all this time? By yourself?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” His hand on your cheek trembled slightly, “I’m okay, see?”

You covered his hand with yours. “I was so mad at you,” You admitted.

“Baby—”

“You don’t understand,” you explained, voice cracking slightly, “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

He drew you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into him instantly.

"I deserved it,” Rafe muttered, trying to laugh but failing.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, "You told me you were getting clean, that you were seeing a psychologist, and I-I wasn’t there.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading with you to understand. “I was a train wreck, and I hurt you. You needed to protect yourself.”

“But I should’ve been there for you,” you insisted, your voice breaking. “You were trying to get better, and I just...walked away.”

“Jesus Christ Maybank” He let out a breathy laugh, almost like he didn’t know how to handle the conversation.. “Stop the waterfloods, you’re gonna make me cry.”

“Shut up,” I sniffled, laughing through the tears. “I’m trying to apologize—”

“You don’t have to, baby,” He cut you off, shaking his head, “Not to me, or anyone else.”

His breath mingled with yours, his presence soothing you in a way you hadn’t felt in months.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. It was as if he was testing the waters, ensuring you were okay with this, and when you didn’t pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently but firmly as his lips explored yours.

You felt yourself give in to him, your hands gripping his shirt to make sure he was real. You’d dreamed about him for too damn long to understand the difference. The kiss was slow, deliberate…loving.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Rafe rested his forehead against yours, breath ragged.

“Can’t believe you made me fall in love with a pogue.”

Oh.

You blinked, caught off guard.

“In love?”

He bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden. “Yeah.”

You could see the anxiety roaring inside him. The way his shoulders seemed to squeeze back in, eyes dropping to your lips.

You smiled, brushing yours fingers against his cheek. “Never thought I’d fall for a kook.”

Rafe groaned, dropping his head onto your shoulder, teeth grazing against your skin, “Don’t play with me.”

“I’m not,” You whispered, tilting his chin up so he had to look at you. “I mean it."

His eyes examined yours for a long moment as if confirming your words. Then, without even saying anything, he closed the distance between you again. This time, no hesitation. None of that uncertainty from before.

His hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was so different from the one before. You could feel the heat building between you, that undeniable chemistry pulling you together.

His hands slipped under your shirt, his shirt, the touch of his fingertips on your bare skin sending shivers down your spine. Rafe’s lips trailed down your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped, tilting your head to give him better access. His hands were everywhere, exploring, caressing, making you dizzy with need.

“I need you,” your voice came out all breathless, your fingers clutching his shoulders.

He stopped for a second, lifting his head to look at you, those blue eyes dark with desire.

“You’re hurt,” he muttered, swallowing hard. “Last night—”

“I don’t care,” you replied, shaking your head. “You fucked me after I got shot.”

“That night was different. We were different.”

You nodded, the memory flashing in your mind. The urgency, the desperation, how you clung to each other like you were drowning.

He hesitated for a split second longer, his thumb brushing over the bruise on your cheek. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you promised, pulling him back to you. “I trust you.”

That was all he needed. His restraint melted away, and he kissed you like he couldn’t help himself, lifting you easily and carrying you upstairs. When he laid you down on the bed, it was so gentle, like you were the most precious thing to him.

Rafe hovered over you, his eyes locked on yours as he stripped off his shirt. Your hands traced the lines of his muscles, loving the way they moved under your touch. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, hot and deep, as his hands started unbuttoning your shirt.

Everything blurred after that—clothes disappearing, just the two of you, skin to skin. His hands, his lips, everywhere.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” he murmured.

You smiled, cupping his face, “Tell me.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, “Every damn day. Every fucking minute. I’d close my eyes and all I could see was you.”

His voice faded, but his hands kept moving, tracing soft patterns along your sides. He was rediscovering you, like it had been forever.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. “I’m here now.”

Rafe smiled against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you steady. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “More than okay. I want this. I want you.”

His kisses trailed down your neck, slow and deliberate. “I love the way you laugh,” he whispered against your skin, his lips brushing your collarbone. “How your eyes light up when you talk about something you care about. How strong you are, even when you don’t see it.”

You shivered at his words, your heart swelling with love for the man holding you so tenderly. "Rafe..."

He kissed your lips softly, silencing you.

"I love the way you look at me," he continued, his hands slipping under your shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. "Like I'm the only person in the world. Like I matter."

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words, his touch.

"You do matter," you whispered, your voice breaking. “You matter to me.”

Rafe's hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of your, his, boxers.

“I love how brave you are," he said, his voice husky, "How you face everything, even when it's terrifying." He slid them down, eyes never leaving yours. “Last night… I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

You reached for him, fingers tangling in his grown-out hair, pulling him closer. “I’m right here,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “Right here.”

Rafe's hands found your hips, his touch firm and reassuring. "I love you," he said again, "And I need you to know that. Shit, I need you to feel it."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I do. I feel it."

He kissed you again, this time with an urgency that made your heart race against your ribs. His lips, his hands, everything about him was showing you just how much you meant to him. You could feel him holding back though, his body tense under your hands. You trailed your fingers down his back, feeling every inch of him, and it wasn’t long before he pressed against you, letting you feel just how much he wanted this too.

His lips found your breasts, kissing and teasing, his hands caressing your sides, your hips. You moaned, arching into his touch, your body trembling with need. "Rafe..."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, "I love the way you say my name. Like it's the only word that matters." He kissed his way down your stomach, his hands sliding lower, teasing you, driving you wild with anticipation. "I love the way you taste," he breathed, hot against your skin. "The way you feel."

You gasped, your body arching off the bed as his fingers found you, teasing, exploring.

"Rafe, please..."

He kissed his way back up your body, "I've got you. I'm here. Tell me if you want me to stop."

You shook your head, urging him on. "Don't stop.”

He kissed your hip bones, his hands gently spreading your legs wider. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your breath catch. He moved lower, his lips trailing down your inner thigh, his fingers lightly caressing your other leg.

When his mouth finally reached your pussy, you gasped, your body arching off the bed. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, tasting you.The sensation was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. Fuck you missed this. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you in place as he continued his slow, deliberate assault.

He explored you with his tongue, each movement precise,intentional. He found a rhythm that made your head spin, alternating between gentle flicks and firm strokes. You moaned, your fingers tightening in his short strands, pulling him closer, needing more.

Rafe responded to your silent plea, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping your thighs harder, fingernails digging into your skin.

The pressure built, an overwhelming pleasure that threatened to consume you whole. He groaned against you, the vibration sending you even higher.

"Mmm," you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. "Don't stop. P-Please, don't stop."

He didn't.

He increased his pace, his tongue moving faster, his hands sliding under your hips, lifting you slightly to give him better access. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. Rafe’s mouth never left you, his tongue driving you to the brink. You cried out his name, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking rapidly, and that was all it took. You shattered, not a wave, but an entire fuckcking ocean of ecstasy crashing over you, your vision going white as the pleasure consumed you. He continued his ministrations, guiding you through your orgasm, his tongue and lips never slowing, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

When you finally came down, your body spent and trembling, Rafe kissed his way back up your body, his hands soothing the aftershocks with gentle caresses.

He hovered over you, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your heart swell.

"My perfect girl," he growled against your lips.

Your bruised hands roamed over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles, he shifted, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel his arousal. You moaned into his mouth, your hands moving lower, wanting to touch him, to feel him inside you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, teasing him.

“Are you sure?” he asked one more time, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you answered, and that was it.

He cared so much it nearly sent you into an emotional spiral again.

In one swift motion, he shed his boxers, and you took in the sight of him, hard and ready. He moved over you, positioning himself between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. He took his time, teasing you with his fingers, making sure you were ready for him.

You gasped at the feeling—God, you missed him. Every inch of him.

He paused, forehead resting against yours, giving you a moment to adjust. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groaned, his voice strained.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to move. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered, almost begging. “I want all of you.”

Rafe didn't need further encouragement.

He started moving, slow at first, but each roll of his hips had you feeling like you were losing it. Every time he pushed deeper, you swore you could feel him in your bones. Your nails dug into his back, leaving marks that you knew would be there tomorrow, but right now? You didn’t care. You just needed to feel closer to him.

His kiss was intense—like he was pouring everything into it, his tongue matching the rhythm of his hips, making your whole body shiver. His hands were all over you, one sliding under your back to pull you even closer, the other tangling in your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted. You moved with him, your bodies syncing up like you’d never been apart.

Rafe’s pace picked up, and you could tell he was losing control, his thrusts coming faster, harder. And then, his voice, low and rough, sent a chill straight through you.

“Don’t stop, baby. Fuck—don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he growled, his words barely audible between breaths. “Never.”

That was it—he completely let go, moving even harder, like he couldn’t get enough of you. The sound of your bodies crashing together, the moans and gasps—it was all so intense.

You didn’t understand the sudden urge, but suddenly, without even thinking, you pushed at his chest, flipping him onto his back.

“Your turn,” you whispered, climbing on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, a little surprised, but the way his hands landed on your hips made it clear he was all in. And God, you’d never seen him look so good.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts gently. “Every part of you."

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his stubbled jaw. That roughness on your skin sent a rush through you, especially when you felt him brushing against you just right. You let out a soft moan, then pulled back, grinding down on him. The way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers tightened on your hips, it was like you were driving him wild.

“You like that?” you teased, your voice low, your fingers running down his chest.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, gripping you harder. “You feel incredible.”

You reached between you, guiding him back inside, both of you gasping at the sensation. You started moving, slow at first, taking your time with it, loving the way he filled you.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, caressing you, teasing you, making you lose it a little more with every touch. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. “Ride me, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, spurring you on. You increased your pace, rolling your hips, finding the angle that drove you both to the edge. Your hands braced against his chest, your nails digging into his skin as you rode him harder, faster.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you gasped, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts. “You feel so good inside me.”

He groaned, “You can’t be real,” his hands guided your hips, urging you to move faster. “This can’t be real—Shit, keep doing that.”

The pleasure built with every movement, your bodies moving together like they never parted.

You could feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension building, ready to snap. Rafe’s hands slid up to your breasts, teasing your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“Come for me, baby,” Rafe urged, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come around me.”

His words pushed you over. You cried out, your body arching, your vision going white as the orgasm crashed over you. Rafe groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet yours as he followed you, his release filling you, pretty hisses and groans filling your ears.

You collapsed on top of him, both of you completely spent, still trying to catch your breath. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, and you buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed by how intense everything felt.

When you looked up, the way he was staring at you caught you off guard. There was this softness, this disbelief in his expression, like he was seeing you for the first time.

"What?" you asked softly, a smile tugging at your lips despite the slight confusion.

He blinked, like he was snapping out of it, then gently traced your cheekbone with his fingers.

“I just… I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Rafe…”

He silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips barely brushing yours, but it sent a wave of warmth through you.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You smiled, heart full. “I love you too.”

683 notes · View notes

theereina · 1 month ago

Text

Big Mama Pt. 3

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +4.7K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, no smut (alluding to sexual situations), heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, angst, SA (touching, grabbing), mentions of dv & abuse, anxiety, trauma, physical fighting

A/N: I literally haven't written in years. I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

“Girl, what the fuck do you mean you haven't called this man back?” my best friend Monica snapped at me. “I just needed to let one off. I was horny and tired of going on pointless ass dates,” I said groaning back at her.

We were walking into a party her on-again-off-again boyfriend, Jordan, was hosting. There were cars everywhere, and people littered the front lawn of the small house. The music was blasting from the backyard, and the noise consumed the quaint neighborhood.

A cloud of smoke spilled from the rear of the house and engulfed the porch and lawn like a dense fog. The combined thickness of the smoke from the barbecue grill and the heat from the ocean of bodies added to the intensity of the sweltering Southern heat. I was beginning to regret my decision to wear all black.

“You need yo’ ass beat. How the fuck do you let a man dick you down like that and let him get away?” Monica asked cutting across the lawn to enter through the side gate. “I just didn't want anything else,” I said shrugging my shoulders and following her closely. She opened the gate so that we could both walk in. “Look, Monnie. I’m not ready to even entertain a man and his bullshit,” I continued as I closed the gate behind us. “You could have at least kept him as a fuck buddy, ‘Vana, like seriously. Come on. Here we are living in a world where women die never even coming close to experiencing what you did, and you just let him disappear. Are you fuckin' crazy, girl?” she turned to grab my hand.

Monica was trying her hardest to pull us through the swarm of people. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind me. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Over by the gate. Jordan's waitin’ with his friends,” she said. I used one of my hands to hold her body flush with mine while the other gently pushed people out of the way.

Once we made it to the other side of the backyard, Monnie spotted Jordan. She pulled herself from my grasp and went to talk to him. He looked down at her and smirked. He was crossfaded. I knew what this meant for me. I would have to hear them go at it like animals all night or get a hotel room. Now, I will NEVER be jealous of my girl getting hers. Don't get me wrong. It's just that Monnie sounds like a “palm-colored🖐🏻” pornstar when she moans, and I only watch Ebony for a reason.

“Ah, shit,” I said palming my face. “What?” Monnie asked with her eyes still locked on Jordan. “I know what that face means. Jordan finna turn you every which way but loose!” I laughed out loud. Monnie looked at me and burst into laughter. Jordan pulled his cup to his lips and peeked over the rim at me. “As long as Monnie baby knows,” he said peering back at her. “Oouu, shit. Don't start with me, J!” Monnie said pulling him by his collar. They were chest to chest now.

“Just go in the damn house already!” I said laughing at the two of them. They were like two feral dogs in heat. They couldn't look at each other without lust taking over. This is an everyday thing for them. “Fuck it. Bye. See ya’!” Monnie said grabbing Jordan and pulling him towards the house.

“Nasty dogs,” I said laughing to myself. I stood with my back to the fence and began scanning the party. I couldn't find anyone I knew. I saw a guy who looked slightly familiar, and I assumed he was one of Jordan's friends. I looked him over trying to see if that was the connection. He was standing in a smaller crowd of men.

His head turned slowly, and his eyes caught mine. They were deep-set and a warm dark brown. He turned his body to face me. He was tall and dark-skinned. This man's skin was ebony in every facet of the word — smooth and shiny. He bit his lip and winked at me while running his hands across his low-cut Caesar.

I smiled back at him and waved shyly. He nodded back towards me. He leaned in closer to the group of men saying something that caused them to turn around. I instantly became a little uncomfortable and self-conscious. I hated male attention when they were in groups. It made me feel objectified.

He began to walk towards me with a slow and deliberate gait. His stride was graceful yet steady. His large frame cast a large imposing shadow across the ground. His lean upper body was struggling to hide beneath the thin fabric of his white T-shirt. He appears to be at least 6 feet tall. I've never had a type, but this man was doing something to me.

I pushed my back from the tall wooden fence. “How you doin’?” he said leaning over me. His hands were in his pockets. He pulled his hands out slowly and grabbed mine. “Fine, and you?” I asked looking up at him. “Better,” he said licking his lips. They were plump and pink. My eyes followed the movement of his tongue across his lips. “That's cute, love. I kinda feel like I know you from somewhere,” I said looking away from him. “Nah, I'd remember you fa’ sure,” he said smiling.

He leaned in closer to my ear. His breath was warm against my skin. “You right about that,” I said cocking my head to the side. He leaned up to look me directly in the eyes. “You a cocky sumthin’, ain't you?” he said laughing. “I like that shit,” he continued while smiling at me. “Cocky? Me?! Never, baby. I'm just a professional shit-talker. That's all,” I said laughing into his chest. “A professional shit talker? So, you enjoy talking shit, huh? What comes with that?” he asked shifting his weight to gently push me back against the fence.

I paused for a second. I pulled my bottom lip in, biting it lightly. “Fuck around and find out,” I said barely above a whisper. I made sure I was looking him directly in his eyes before I spoke. “Oouu, you… Lord, woman!” he laughed out loud. “See. I already got you calling for the Lord, and I ain't even touched you yet,” I giggled into my hand. He used his hand to play with the frizzy hair at the nape of my neck. I chose to wear my hair in a wash-and-go, but it was being destroyed by the humidity.

“So, what would happen if you touched me?” he asked tracing small circles on my scalp. “It depends. You wanna hear God, or do you wanna see him? I can do both if I like you,” I said placing my hand on his bicep. “Damn! That's how you comin’?” he asked grunting. “And I thought I was doing sumthin' with the stars and the moon,” he said placing his hand on my hip. “Maybe you just need a little encouragement,” I said rubbing up and down his arm. “Hmm, encouragement?” he questioned while raising a single eyebrow. “You know… just a little talking to get you through it,” I said resting my hand on his shoulder.

“Talk me through it then,” he replied as he gestured for me to continue. His hands were now on both sides of my hips. “We're in public. You sure you can handle that,” he said tilting his head again. I leaned in as close as I could. “Before I continue, do you like Big Daddy or Good Boy? I need to know for my pleasure,” I asked snaking my hand to the side of his neck. I used my thumb to stroke his jawline. “What's the difference?” he asked. “Well, if I'm taking care of business, you're a good boy. However, if you're taking care of business, it's Big Daddy. Understand?” I asked gripping the side of his neck firmly. “Mmmm… shit. I think I do,” he grumbled dropping his head. “No, baby. It's either you do, or you don't. I don't like indecisiveness,” I said angling his head back up so that his eyes met mine.

“What's your name, mama?” he asked. “Havana, but you can call me “Big Mama”,” I said snickering into my hand. “I’m Xavier, so you're Big Mama, huh?” he asked sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. His eyes were narrowing in on my lips. “That's only if you're nasty,” I laughed again. “Hmm… How nasty we talking?” he asked snaking his hands around my hips. “How nasty can you get, love?” I asked locking in.

He looked up at me like he was stunned by that question. “Ok. I don't usually repeat myself, but…” I said while moving gently from his grasp. “I'll be as nasty as you need me to be. How nasty can you get?” he asked. “Well, love. It depends on your performance. Energy is matched around here,” I said watching his eyes linger on me again.

*15 minutes later

Xavier and I had been talking the entire time. He seemed like a decent guy, but I didn't want to make the same mistake twice. I honestly feel like with Terry it was a “right place, right time” situation. That's never been my forte. I was usually much more careful and selective when it came to choosing sexual partners. We both share our STD status and the current number of active sexual partners. Moreover, the condom situation was even more of a fuck up for me. I normally supply them myself, so that men can't say shit about not having one. So, when I dropped the ball as badly as I did with Terry, it shook me a little. How could I have been that fucking careless?

“Uh oh, don't let her get you in trouble,” Jordan said while approaching. “Nigga, I'm not worried about that. My shit straight. What that got to do with anything?” Xavier said turning to dap up Jordan. “Where's Monnie?” I asked Jordan. “Inside. She’ll be out in a minute,” he said giggling and shrugging his shoulders. “Ok,” I said looking back at Xavier because his response to J sounded like a red flag. What was he not worried about? What shit was “straight”? Then, why did Jordan shrug like he was saying “whatever”? Was this man hiding something?

I pulled out my phone and texted Monnie. I asked her if she knew anything about Xavier. She asked why immediately. I texted her and told her we had been outside talking this whole time. The text she sent said it all.

Monnie: RUN BITCH! GET IN THE HOUSE NOW!

I immediately thought of a lie I could quickly tell Xavier. I needed to get to Monnie now! “Shit, Monnie needs me!” I said placing my phone back into my purse. “You good?” he asked leaning in and grabbing my chin so that I could face him. “Yeah, baby. Mama's fine. Be safe alright?!” I said loudly as I walked away. “What about your number?” he called out after me. “If we see each other again, I say it was meant to be,” I said winking at him.

I quickly pushed my way towards the rear entrance of the house. The sliding glass door was slightly ajar so that people could go in and out. I entered the door and was met with a cloud of weed smoke. Fuck, I hated that smell. I walked through the house and searched for Monnie. I sent her a text asking where she was.

Monnie: upstairs bedroom

I walked through the crowded living room and crossed the space to get the stairs. I was at the bottom when I felt hands grab my waist from behind. “Where you going, fine ass?” said a man's voice from behind me. “Please, don't do that,” I said removing his hands. I continued up the stairs without looking back. “Fat bitch!” he yelled at me from below. I turned around to see who was speaking. All I could say was, “Ugh!”

I turned back around to continue up the stairs. I located the door to the room where Monnie should be. I lightly knocked on the door before entering. “Fuck are you knocking for? Bring yo’ ass in here!” Monnie yelled through the door. “First of all, fuck you. Now, spill it. Tea time, hoe!” I said laughing as I entered the room.

Monnie was sitting on the bed waiting. I closed the door and locked it. I sat on the bed beside her. I turned my body so that I was facing her. “Girl, he ain't shit. Please, tell me you didn't give him your number?” she asked shaking her head. “Fuck no! Why?” I asked removing my crossbody and placing it on the bed beside me. “Well, for starters, this nigga has a basketball team of kids. He has 4 baby mamas, and there may be a fifth!” Monnie said chuckling. “Damn, 4 baby mamas, and how many kids?” I asked leaning over to rest my head on my palms under my chin. “I think 8. We don't know a for sure number,” she said casually. “The fuck do you mean by that. Do y'all not know a for sure number, or does he not know a for sure number?” I asked eagerly. “He doesn't know himself. He be fuckin' anything that let him. That's why his ass was burnin’ last month,” Monnie said laughing and slapping my shoulder.

That's when it hit me. If I had met Xavier last month instead of Terry, I would be burnin', too. “Burnin' from what?” I asked Monnie. I was serious now. “I think Chlamydia and Gonorrhea. He apparently got it from one of his baby mamas. The only reason we found out is because he gave it to his “situation”, and she came to his house while we were there and cussed his ass out. Girl! She let him have it,” Monnie said hollering at this point. “That's so foul, bro. We were literally outside talking hot shit and getting spicy—,” I said. “Oh, he hot shit alright?” she laughed.

*2 hours later

I had left the party around midnight. As I was driving home, I remembered I needed eggs and almond milk for tomorrow. I knew there was only one store still open this late at night. I honestly didn't feel like getting out again, so I decided against it.

As I was driving, I started to see construction signs. They all read different things— “detour ahead”, “road work ahead”, and “road closed to thru traffic”. The detour sign pointed to the right. That would throw off my entire drive because that meant I couldn't use the nearest entrance to get on the highway with the next one being miles out.

I grew annoyed but turned anyway. What choice did I have? The road was dark and empty. It was way too late at night to be forced to take detours. I was growing uncomfortable with the fact that there were no streetlights, and the road narrowed towards the end before a sharp blind curve. People weren't as careful coming around. Most hugged the middle taking up both lanes in the process.

As I approached, I slowed down almost to a stop. I slowly rolled through the corner hugging my side of the bend. Once I could see straight ahead, I noticed a truck on the side of the road. The hazards were on, but I didn't see anyone inside. As I got closer, my headlights beamed against the outline of a figure at the side of the truck near the rear tire. I could tell it was a man by the way his physique looked leaning against the truck's bed.

Getting closer, I began to watch him out of curiosity. His body leaned up, and he seemed to be turning around to look in my direction. He used his hand to shield his eyes from the glare of my headlights. That's when I saw it. The tattoo on the forearm looked like—— Terry's.

No, it couldn't be. There's no way a random detour put us in the same place at the same time again. The first time we met I wasn’t supposed to be at the store that day. I accidentally dropped all of the eggs I had and cracked them. I had a cake order to make, so I didn't have a choice but to go get more. Now, this.

I rolled down the passenger side window a little as I got closer. I cleared my throat while laughing to myself. I slowed to a stop as I got to the rear of the truck. He walked towards the car, but he didn't approach fully. “Need a ride, handsome. Don't want you out here stranded,” I said in the most country accent I could. The voice I used gave off backwoods barbie. “Nah, I'm good. Go on home,” he said trying to look through the crack of the window.

I could tell that the absence of streetlights and dark tints were working against him. He squinted a little more. “Oh, come on. I can't leave you out here with all these critters and weirdos. Might take advantage of ya’, hun,” I said trying not to laugh. “Your ol’ man let you pick up strangers this late at night?” he asked. I could sense he was becoming inquisitive. He was searching for any possible signs of this being a setup.

I rolled down the window all the way while hollering with laughter. “Who said we're strangers?” I asked him. His face displayed annoyance and relief. I saw his shoulders drop and his stance loosen. He approached the car fully leaning into the window. “Real funny,” he said smirking. “You looked scared for a second. I'm sorry. I realized it was you as I was coming up,” I replied with a smile.

“What you doin’ out so late, Mama?” he asked tilting his head. I scoffed and waited. He looked at me with a cold stare. He was waiting for an answer. I shrugged my shoulders casually. “Party with some friends,” I said hoping that he would stop staring at me so intensely. “Party, huh? I thought you didn't like parties,” he muttered under his breath. “I heard you, asshole. Yeah, a party. That's what I said, ain't it?” I said gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Watch that mouth,” he grunted lowly. His voice vibrated across the small space of the car. “Or what?” I asked looking over at him.

He stood up and pushed away from the car. He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his body weight to one side. “I would say I'd put somethin’ in it, but me and you both know you'd like that, ‘Vana. Wouldn't you?” he shot back.

Touché, Terry. Touché.

“Coming or not?” I asked and gestured towards the passenger seat. He shook his head yes and walked towards the driver's side of his truck. He opened the door and grabbed his keys and a backpack. He walked back to my car to get into the passenger side. He opened the backseat first to place his backpack in. I could see the confidence in his step.

My eyes started to wander a bit. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and dark-wash blue jeans. Slightly wet from sweat, his shirt clung to the muscles underneath. Every detail is etched into my memory. The deep cut of his abs. The veins in his biceps that popped out when he made even the slightest movements. The slight jiggle in his pecs.

Not this again. Get it together, Havana.

I turned to look away as he entered the car. Closing the door, he sank into the seat and sighed. “I’ve been out there for a while. Was about to walk back towards Miller to get closer to my place,” he said. I could feel his eyes on me. “Where were you going?” I asked eyes locked forward. “Randall's,” he said leaning over so that his arm was overtaking the center console. “Really?!” I asked loudly. “You'll live. Where you want me to put my hands? In my lap?” he asked his voice surging through the small space. “Or would you rather I put them in yours?” he chuckled. “Whatever!” I said pushing his chest and rolling my eyes. I put the car into gear and began to drive.

“Do you mind if I stop at Dixie? I needed to pick up some stuff for tomorrow,” I asked looking at him. “Nah. I mean it is where we first met,” he said smiling back at me. I rolled my eyes and continued to drive.

*15 minutes later

We walked through the store side-by-side. He was right on my ass. This man had no regard for personal space. “Do you have to be so close?” I asked pushing him away. “Oh, now you got a problem with it?!” he laughed throwing his head back. “Fuck you, Terry,” I said in a whisper low enough for only him to hear. “You sure you want that? You sure you can take it this time?” he questioned while getting closer to me. “You got jokes, huh? Remember this, sir. You may beat me when I'm on my back, but I can make you cry when I'm on my knees,” I said turning away from him. I heard him grunt and scoff. I peeked over my shoulder to see him smiling at me.

He walked away in the opposite direction. That was fine with me. I needed a small breather. Everything about Terry had me on edge, and the flashbacks from that night weren't helping.

I walked to the rear of the store where the dairy and produce were. I walked towards the coolers that contained the eggs. I picked up an 18-count for now and checked the crate for broken eggs. Finding none, I placed the eggs securely under my arm. I moved to the fridges right beside them to look for almond milk— unsweetened and vanilla. They were out. I moved to the next fridge and spotted regular unsweetened almond milk. Fine, that would have to do.

I opened the door to the fridge. A cold, crisp air whipped across my face. The milk rested on the bottom shelf. I leaned over to get it. As soon as I reached for the milk, I felt hands on my hips. “Hands off, Terry,” I said through gritted teeth. “Who's Terry?” asked a familiar voice. “Xavier!” I yelled almost dropping the eggs.

I whipped around and removed his hands from my hips. “Here we are again. You remember what you said? I think you owe me somethin’,” he said moving closer to me. “That was before I knew you lied to me,” I said pushing him back gently. I wanted to be assertive but not piss him off. As he got closer again, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It was much stronger than it was before.

“The fuck did Monnie stupid ass tell you?” he yelled smacking his lips. “Look. She didn't say anything, love. Just…,” I said trying to push him away from me. His hands came up to my hips again. He gripped the tighter than the first time. “Hey, let me go!” I yelled. “Oh, come on. You one teasin’ ass bitch,” he yelled again slapping the eggs from under my arms. They hit the ground with a thud. The crate cracked open and egg yolks shot up all over the bottom of my skirt and all over my feet.

I tried to move again and sidestep away from his grasp but to no avail. He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back towards him. My body collided with his. He grabbed my arms and slammed me up against the cold glass of the fridge. My body bounced off from the impact.

His hand reached up as if he were going to hit me. I flinched in fear and closed my eyes. It's as if I stopped breathing while waiting for the hit to land. It never did. I opened my eyes to see Terry grabbing Xavier by his collar. They were close in height but Xavier appeared slightly bigger.

Terry pushed Xavier away from me. Terry threw the first punch immediately after. His hand collided precisely with Xavier's jaw. X’s head snapped sideways and his body flew backward. Terry watched him as he stumbled. “Don't you ever touch her again!” Terry growled closing in on Xavier as if he was going to hit him again. Xavier cowered and retreated without a word.

Terry turns back to look at me. His scowl sent shivers down my spine. “I didn't…,” I said struggling to breathe. “Hey, you okay? Mama, look at me!” Terry said grabbing the sides of my face. He angled my head so that I was looking up at him. I was trying not to cry, but I couldn't hold back the tears. “I'm sorry I froze,” I said gasping for air. “Ay, c’mere. Don't do that? Havana, breathe!” he said pulling me into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me hugging me tightly. I wasn't aware of anything around me at the moment.

My thoughts were all over the place. My mind was racing, and I couldn't form a complete thought. “Let’s go,” Terry said holding my hand. He placed the other on my lower back and guided me out of the store. “Keys,” he said into my ear while leaning over me from behind. “Huh?” I said being pulled from my daze. “I need your keys, baby girl,” he said placing his hands on my shoulder.

I reached into my purse and handed Terry my keys. “I know it's late, but I don't want you driving home like this. Do you feel comfortable going with me until you feel better?” Terry said walking around me so that he was now looking down at me. He placed his hands gently on the side of my face again. “’Vana, baby. Listen. You gotta answer me, mama. I need somethin' here,” he asked stroking my cheeks. I nodded as I began to cry again.

He placed his hand on my lower back and guided me to the passenger side door. He opened the door for me to get in. I slid past Terry and sat down in the seat.

The memories I had tried to forget came flooding back — my ex. I spaced out for a second. Terry opened the door and climbed in. He adjusted the seat to fit more comfortably to his height. He leaned over one final time and kissed my forehead. “Just promise me that you're okay?” he asked softly. “Yeah, I'm… I'm okay,” I said sniffling.

*20 minutes later

I stood in Terry's bathroom waiting for the shower to warm up. I was leaned back against the sink while fighting to remain consciously present. I hated it when things triggered me and brought me back to that place. I had worked so hard to never deal with this again. All those years of therapy, and for what? How could what this man did still take such a toll on me? Tonight, I felt like I regressed tremendously.

I stood up and walked to the glass shower door. I slid it open and reached in to feel the water. It was more than ready. I just wanted to get in and wash away all of tonight—all of the egg yolks, all of the fear, all of the anxiety, all of it.

Taglist (asked and assumed):

@avoidthings @brattyfics @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh

@megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites

@jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions

@deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo

@ariiijestertheklown @armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb

@blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere

@iburias @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1

@geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder

@ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld

@blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj

@qtmkenedy03 @pinkpantheris @skyesthebomb @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

*If you want to be added or removed, let me know by commenting.

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millyh23 · 16 days ago

Text

Greece with a Side of Murphy’s Law

Alessia Russo x Reader

word count:

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Alessia had poured herself into planning this trip, hoping for a dream holiday in the sun-soaked beaches of Greece, where she and Y/N could finally unwind from their busy schedules. But things took a bad turn as soon as they stepped into the airport.

They were running late—very late.

“Less, come on! We’re going to miss our flight!” Y/N called over her shoulder, passport clutched in her hand as she power-walked to the security line. Alessia rushed behind, arms loaded with bags, almost tripping over her own feet.

“We’ll make it! I swear!” Alessia gasped, but as they neared the gate, dread washed over her.

The gate was closed.

They watched helplessly through the glass as their plane began to pull away from the terminal. Alessia dropped her bags and slumped onto a seat.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, eyes wide as if sheer disbelief might change the situation. “I booked this months ago.”

Y/N settled next to her, nudging her gently. “It’s okay, Less. This happens…right?”

After hours of rescheduling and waiting for a new flight, they finally boarded. Alessia fell asleep before the plane even left the ground, exhaustion from the morning’s disaster finally catching up to her. Y/N, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling, wondering if this was a foreshadowing of the trip to come.

They arrived in Greece after a bumpy flight, the hot air blasting them as they stepped out of the airport and into the sun-drenched chaos of Athens. Alessia fished out her confirmation email and gave Y/N a confident nod.

“Alright, nothing but smooth sailing from here,” she declared.

“Sure, Captain,” Y/N teased, grabbing her hand. “Lead the way.”

They arrived at the hotel, bags in hand, ready to finally drop everything and relax. Alessia approached the check-in desk, confident and beaming.

“Hi, checking in under Russo,” she said, sliding over her ID with a winning smile. “Alessia Russo.”

The receptionist scanned the screen, frowning slightly. “Hmm… I see your reservation, Ms. Russo, but it looks like it’s not for this property. It’s for our branch in Lisbon.”

Alessia blinked, her face going pale. “Lisbon? Lisbon in…Portugal?”

The receptionist nodded, tapping at the keyboard. “Yes, unfortunately. It seems this booking is for our Portuguese location.”

Y/N covered her mouth, looking at Alessia with wide eyes. Alessia was at a complete loss, staring at the receptionist as if she’d just told her she’d booked a hotel on the moon.

“Well, can we…maybe book a room here?” Alessia asked, her voice almost pleading.

The receptionist checked. “We do have one room left, but it’s a standard double, not quite the ocean-view suite you booked in Portugal…”

“That’s fine! We’ll take it.” Alessia handed over her card, trying to save face. Y/N squeezed her hand, clearly trying not to laugh.

Once they finally made it to their room, Alessia tossed her bags onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed.

“Not exactly the suite I planned,” she muttered, cheeks red.

“It’s fine, Less. A bed’s a bed,” Y/N replied, flopping down beside her.

They decided to unpack a little to settle in, hoping things would start looking up. But as Y/N opened her suitcase, a frown crossed her face.

“Uh…Less?” she began slowly, pulling out a pair of trousers that were definitely not hers. “Why does my suitcase have someone else’s clothes?”

Alessia whipped around, staring at the suitcase in horror. “No. No way.”

As they dug through the bags, they discovered that neither of them had the right suitcase. Instead of swimsuits, sandals, and summer clothes, they had a random assortment of business suits, formal shoes, and a toiletry bag with initials that were definitely not theirs.

“We…grabbed the wrong suitcases.” Y/N held up a shirt with a defeated sigh.

“Oh my god.” Alessia sank to her knees. “How could this get any worse?”

She felt around for her phone, hoping to call the airport. But her phone was missing. She looked up at Y/N, whose face was turning pale.

“Where’s your phone?” Alessia asked, panic creeping into her voice.

Y/N’s hand shot to her empty pocket, and a horrifying realization dawned on her. “The taxi…”

Both of their phones were still sitting in the back seat of the taxi they’d taken from the airport.

“So…we have no clothes, no phones, and we’re in the wrong hotel,” Y/N summarized, trying to keep a straight face. She looked at Alessia, who was wide-eyed, and burst out laughing. “This is turning into the best holiday ever.”

Alessia buried her face in her hands, groaning, “I wanted to give you the perfect trip, and now we’re living in a sitcom.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Alessia, pulling her close. “It’s perfect because I’m here with you,” she teased, pressing a soft kiss to Alessia’s temple. “Besides, we’ll laugh about this one day, right?”

Alessia couldn’t help but chuckle, finally leaning into Y/N’s embrace. “Only if we survive this.”

Alessia paced around the small hotel room, biting her lip as she surveyed the disaster around them: unfamiliar business attire spilling out of the wrong suitcases, the single hotel bed that wasn’t quite the dreamy suite she’d imagined, and their lack of phones.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Alessia muttered. “We can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

Y/N, sprawled across the bed with an exasperated look, held up the hotel room phone. “We could try calling someone?”

“Like who? Everyone’s away on their own little trips,” Alessia replied, but a small glint of hope flickered in her eyes.

“What about Katie?” Y/N suggested. “i think she said something about taking Cait to greece during the break, and I’m sure she’d love the excuse to make fun of us for this.”

With a smirk, Alessia took the phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. After a few rings, a familiar voice crackled on the other end.

“Hello?” came Katie’s slightly groggy voice.

“Katie, it’s Alessia,” she said, her voice a mix of desperation and relief.

“Less? Where the hell are you calling from?” Katie’s voice perked up, clearly curious.

“Long story short, we missed our flight, we’re in the wrong country, and we have someone else’s suitcases. Oh, and our phones are somewhere in a taxi. We need help,” Alessia admitted, holding back laughter at how ridiculous it sounded all put together.

The silence on the other end lasted for a second, and then came a loud burst of laughter.

“Oh my god, you two! Only you could turn a holiday into the plot of a rom-com!” Katie laughed. “Alright, I’m coming to get you. What hotel are you at?”

Alessia fumbled with the keycard and relayed the name of the place, barely managing to pronounce it through her nervous giggles. “We’re…at some budget hotel, Katie. It’s not what I had planned, trust me.”

“I bet it’s not. But hey, look on the bright side,” Katie teased, “at least you two are safe and sound, right? And now we can finally go on that double date you guys have been avoiding”

Katie promised to sort everything out,for the price of an all expenses paid boujie double dinner date, and after an hour of waiting and a few more laughs, Alessia and Y/N spotted her at the hotel entrance, an unmistakable smirk on her face as she spotted them.

“Alright, you two clowns, hop in,” she said, patting the hood of her rented car. “And let’s salvage whatever’s left of this holiday.”

As they piled into the car, Katie handed them each a phone she’d picked up from a nearby shop. “Prepaid. Just in case you two lose them again,” she said with a wink.

They made a quick detour to grab clothes and essentials from a local store, Katie playfully holding up outrageous outfits to make them laugh.

As they finally arrived at a beach resort she’d booked last-minute, Katie sighed, grinning at the relieved looks on their faces. “See? Nothing a bit of Irish luck can’t fix. Now go relax.”

Alessia and Y/N wrapped her in a grateful hug, unable to contain their laughter. Katie smirked, pretending to brush them off, but the warmth in her eyes gave her away.

“Go on, enjoy your holiday, you goofs,” she said with a chuckle.

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The End

#offside story #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #woso soccer #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo

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bvidzsoo · 3 months ago

Text

Color of love

The third star of Cosmically divine...

☆ Author: bvidzsoo

☆ Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

☆ Warning: smut, breeding kink (?), possessiveness, mentions of abuse and enslaving, violence

☆ Word count: 12.3k

☆ Rating: nsfw, mature

☆ Genre: Greek mythology, Hongjoong is Hermes and MC is Iris, fated to be together au

☆ Summary: If there was a God everyone feared, perhaps it was Zeus. After the continuous abuse he's put you through, you never thought you'd get to live your eternal life peacefully. That is, until the messenger God shows up and whisks you away before Zeus can see and stop him.

☆ A/N: Helloo, my lovelies!! ^^ I am back and all fresh to continue my Greek series, memory refreshed of the places that our story takes place at. All villages mentioned in this part are very real places and I decided to use them, since I now know Greek people also read this series, I hope I have done justice with the descriptions and please forgive me if I messed up anything, but I did take some creative liberty (mythology included!) Surprisingly, I don't have much to yap about right now, except that while writing this I derailed a bit from the initial plot I had constructed lmao but it's actually good because it tied everything nicely together. The taglist is still open, so lmk if you want to be added to it. I appreciate all your feedback, so let me know what you thought of Hongjoong's part! ^^ Enjoy, and here's a glossary before you start reading:

★ This is inspired by Greek mythology, but I took creative liberty and adapted it to my likes, so keep that in mind while reading, thank you! ★ Hermes is considered the herald of the gods, but is also a messenger God ★ Iris is the the personification of the rainbow and messenger of the gods, a servant to the Olympians and especially Queen Hera ★ talaria are winged sandals ★ petasos is a wide-brimmed hat with a conical crown worn in ancient Greece ★ Zeus is the god of the sky and is considered the ruler, protector, and father of all gods and humans ★ Hera is the goddess of marriage, family, childbirth, and women, known as the queen of the gods ★ Aphrodite is the Goddess of love, beauty, desire, and all aspects of sexuality ★ Dryad is a tree nymph ★ Hades is the God of the underworld ★ Selene is the is the goddess and personification of the Moon ★ Helios is the god representing the sun ★ Isis is the goddess of healing and magic ★ Underworld is a distinct realm where an individual goes after death ★ Cerberus often referred to as the hound of Hades, is a multi-headed dog that guards the gates of the Underworld ★ Ano Skotina, Palaioi Poroi, Palaios Panteleimonas are villages in the Olympic Riviera and are situated on the mountain side ★ Dion is a village and municipal unit in the municipality of Dion-Olympos in the Pieria regional unit, Greece; it's known for its sanctuary of Zeus and its ancient city (definitely give it a visit if you're in the area!) ocean divider; greek divider

☆ Taglist: @patchofblue @sthwaaberry @constipatedcorgi @holytidalwavechees3cake @cheolliehugs

@slowitdownmakeitb0uncy @hoeforsungie @skittyneos @mingheol @sebastianswhore13

@astral-trashcan

༄ ҉ Series m.list ༄ ҉ 　★ previous star ★

Alongside the mountain range of Olympus lays more than one beautiful settlement, some so breathtakingly magnificent that one would dare say the Gods themselves have crafted them. It goes without saying that it wasn’t them, but perhaps the humans that have constructed such roads and buildings were momentarily blessed by Hephaestus to wield their instruments the same way he wields his, with the same precision and perfection, building a haven for those who sought a refuge and a place to which they belonged. The lush green mountain range held more than one hidden village from the prying eyes of those wandering through the forest or the inhabitants of the bustling town of Dion, and these small settlements also offered refuge to those who desperately needed one. Right underneath the noses of the Olympian Gods, blessed but also scrutinized and often forgotten about, nobody would’ve thought to look for the two that held so much power in their pale hands, their bodies frail-looking but everlasting. The earthlings of Ano Skotina were unassuming and comprehensive of the two strangers who ran down the cobblestone-covered paths with baited breaths and soaked to the bone by the heavy rain, yet despite the oddness of their appearance and mumbled speeches, the villagers offered the two wandering souls fresh meal, a warm bath, and a house that they could call theirs. It almost felt like a distant memory now, something that happened centuries ago when, in fact, it was merely a few years back, when Zeus’ rage was still fresh and unforgiving as it mercilessly outlashed the mortals that worshipped him so much.

With the disappearance of Iris from Olympus, the Gods felt restless and uncertain, however, no matter how much Zeus scattered them out to search for his beloved seer, no God or Goddess has ever found her. But she was right under their noses, albeit tucked away in a safe place and surrounded by mortals who loved her and worshipped her unknowingly of her real self and status. The tall pinecone trees mixed with those specific to the climate had turned a sharper and more brilliant green compared to their colour before the two strangers decided to settle down in the quiet village, and after every rain, there was a rainbow. The children of the village would giggle and squeal whenever it appeared in the blue sky as they tried to chase its end, leaving a bright smile on my face as I tinkered around my humble abode, waiting for my lover to return.

The villagers of Ano Skotina were pleasant people, and once they warmed up to the newcomers, they included them in every tradition they had, often showering them with goods they didn’t need anymore. Despite looking as human as possible, there was something unearthly about the two newcomers, their auras bright and light, demanding a certain devotion that many in Olympus lacked. It had been hard at first to get used to the kindness and good deeds that seemingly followed every person here, but at last, I learned and realized that not everyone wished ill on their peer, nor did they expect anything in return if they did something for you.

At first, I had felt ungrateful towards their kindness as I found myself unknowing of the customs of the earthlings. Despite being a messenger, I never quite learned their ways and patterns. But they were understanding and chalked it up to me being peculiar, special, and a little different from them and never made me feel excluded when something was new and I didn’t understand the process of it. Hermes was doing better by my side, he accommodated faster, but that was to be expected. He’s been amongst mortals for longer than me, disguising himself as one as it came as second nature to him. Despite the range of our powers, neither Hermes nor I were blessed with the feat of turning ourselves completely human, and thus, I couldn’t help but blame it on a natural wonder and a blessing made by a Goddess when I was just a child that my hair changed its colour every season. During the colder days, it would turn into an ashen brown, slowly turning into a warm caramel colour as the sun returned. When it got so warm that not even the shade of the tall trees could shelter me from the sizzling sunrays, my hair turned a reddish hue, until it faded into a light brown when the leaves started falling once again. The mortals never said anything, never accused me of anything, but it was easy to tell that they knew something was amiss, that it had to do something with the divine. Perhaps that also prompted them to be kinder and gentler towards me, oftentimes noticeable just how squeamish I was around everyone besides my saviour. His name, the one that the mortals so feverishly worshipped, was Hermes, but the one they unassumingly called out as if he were a friend to them was Hongjoong. I, myself, found the later version of his name more comforting, friendlier, and for once not a reminder of everything I had to endure in Olympus at the hands of Zeus.

The night had been serene when we blew out the last candle and made our way to our shared bed, the covers cold until our ghastly bodies warmed them up, hushed whispers and giggles leaving our reddish lips until we became enraptured by the night and the dreams it brought upon once our minds and souls calmed and admitted defeat to the simple feat of exhaustion. Wrapped in the arms of my lover nothing and nobody could hurt me, I knew I was safe and far away from the very God that called himself our father and protector. But there were nights when my dreams were clouded with visions, making my sleep restless and terrifying. Some visions that came to me would be bright and of great news, and some would be foreboding and dark, petrifying.

At first, when the bright moonlight coming through the opened curtains slowly faded into permeating darkness, I thought it must have been the rainclouds covering the beautiful celestial, but with the appearance of the gut-twisting feeling low in my stomach, I knew something was amiss. The house was eerily quiet and I was alone, no longer in the safe and strong arms of my lover. My feet were cold as I carefully left the confines of my bedroom, the floorboards wet and slippery in an uncharacteristic way. Perhaps Hongjoong had visited Poseidon and brought the seawater inside our house, perhaps the rain was so harsh it settled and flooded our house. But the absence of the pitter-patter of the rain against the roof of the cottage was enough to confirm that it wasn’t raining, and with the talaria not in its place, I also knew Hongjoong wasn’t home.

The quiet hiss behind me and the fear spreading through my body warned me that this wasn’t my reality, that I had been sucked into a vision while unconscious. Most of my visions happened when I was asleep, when my mind was at rest and open to receiving whatever the Cosmos wanted to alert me of, but if the situation was dire, I could force myself into a state of consciousness too to see such visions. Rarely, but it’s been happening more often since I have descended into the human realm, I would get snippets of the future if I touched certain objects or even mortals, visions that usually bore good news. And so, without my consciousness stirring me awake to interrupt the vision, I turned to face the hissing animal behind me. A long and dark green snake was slowly slithering towards me, menacing as it opened its mouth and showed its poisonous fangs. A snake couldn’t kill me, I was immortal after all, but it certainly could harm this human body I was forced to inhibit in this realm.

But the ground shook and the sky cleared once again, the scenery different to where my unconscious body lay peacefully in the arms of my lover. The pinecone trees twisted and turned around me, caging me in as the snake came menacingly close, and I raised my head to look at the moon but it was absent. I was deep in the forest, I could hear the hushed whispers of the Dryads, the concern and fear in their voices. The snake rose off the ground and gave one last hiss before it lunged towards me, my legs apparently frozen in place as I couldn’t jump away or even run off. But before it could sink its teeth into my pale and frail skin, an eagle’s scream was loud and warning as it suddenly gripped the snake in its sharp claws and yanked it away from my body, taking it far away as it flew off into the permeating darkness. The Dryads haven’t stopped whispering, and while their mutters remained intangible, they became louder and more urgent. My legs stopped feeling like lead and I took a tentative step in the direction I hoped the cobble path was and would lead me back to the village, but a shadow darker than darkness itself seeped between the trees as if it was mist, encompassing the forest.

There was a scream in the distance and sudden terror gripped at my throat, my body locking up as I stared into the silver orbs that now seemed to be blocking my every-way, watching me almost tauntingly. I couldn’t breathe as my lungs seized, and I clawed at my throat, but the pressure only worsened, my body shaking from fear and the lack of oxygen. My vision became hazy as creepy laughter echoed around me, a terrifyingly familiar voice, a voice that I loathed with my whole being. I was succumbing to the greater force the more seconds ticked by, but before my eyes could roll to the back of my mind and allow my body to crumble to the cold floor of the forest, a face so clear it managed to make me gasp appeared in front of my face.

The man’s face was simply gorgeous, tanned from the sun and defined at the jaw with a nose that few bore around these parts. His eyes were uneven but sharp, and his pretty lips formed a word I couldn’t understand just yet. My ears were ringing louder than the person’s words, but the more my eyes bore into the stranger’s terrified ones, the clearer everything once again became.

“Run!” His shrill voice was raspy as I was forcefully shoved back and I stumbled for a moment until I regained my bearings.

I could move, I could hear, I could feel.

My body trembled as that familiar cackle echoed around me once again, and I realized the gorgeous stranger was one of the Dryads who whispered in the trees. He looked more scared than I had ever felt, and with a hand reaching out for him desperately to pull him with myself, my feet kicked off before the cold darkness could touch my skin.

And then, as quickly as it came, the vision was gone. I was shaken awake by the frantic calls of my name and warm hands that gripped my arms with tremors. “Y/N! My beloved, please, Y/N. Iris, please, wake up!”

My eyes slowly fluttered open and I realized the curtains were still drawn apart to allow the moonlight inside, to honour Selene and perhaps greet her when she passed on the sky with her chariot. Even if one could hide from Zeus, Selene and Helios saw and knew everything. But my vision was soon obscured by two bright eyes, an amber nobody else I knew had as they shook in fright and bore into mine, searching for anything wrong. My body felt tense and my throat a little parched, but other than that, I was alright. I knew I had been dreaming, I knew a vision came to me, but everything felt wrong. There was something just not right about the vision, about the way it occurred, about the man that showed itself to me. It took me a few seconds to register everything I had seen, and soon, my eyes were just as glazed over with fear as Hongjoong’s. I shot up and cradled my knees to my chest as Hongjoong settled down behind me, reluctant to touch me as he exhaled shakily.

“My beloved, what is the matter?” He questioned quietly, his voice pained, “I cannot help if you don’t talk to me. Was it another night terror, Iris?”

I gulped and my arms tightened around my legs a little bit more, “A vision, Hermes, an omen. Something bad is about to happen, he’s coming for me.”

There was rustling behind me and then I felt the press of a firm chest against my back, strong arms wrapping around my middle to pull me back into the warm body of my lover. I sighed, but my muscles remained tense as I tried to shake away the lingering feelings of the vision. Somebody was out there to get me. Somebody sent by Zeus, once again, and they were close, too close for comfort. The snake almost managed to touch me, perhaps it represented the mortal or traitor, even, that Zeus had sent. I wouldn’t put it past him to send the dirtiest of those that he had once cast away to bring me back to him so that he could enslave me once again.

“Nothing bad will happen, Y/N,” Hongjoong whispered as his chin came to rest on my shoulder. He turned his head and his soft brown hair tickled my cheek in the process, “You are with me and I will do everything to keep you safe, I have promised. No, I have sworn on my immortality, I’ll never let him find you, my beloved.”

Hongjoong’s tone was soft and tender as his fingers gripped my sheer nightgown tightly, pressing his front to the back of my body as tightly as he could, his hot lips brushing against my ear almost teasingly. I gulped, remembering the fear in the Dryad’s eyes too vividly, it had felt too real. I couldn’t even tell if he was part of the vision or if he had managed to cause a rift in the Cosmos to consciously warn me of the danger that was now closer than ever before. We’ve managed to stay hidden for so long, the fear of losing my freedom again was all-consuming and terrifying.

“The Dryad was terrified,” I whispered as my eyes coated over with the remnants of the vision, hard to erase such a look from my mind, “I don’t even think he was part of my vision. There was an eagle too in my dream, Hongjoong.”

My lover’s gulp was audible and I turned my face to face his, prompting Hongjoong to lean back just a bit so that we could stare into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, a soft smile graced his lips and my heartbeat picked up just a little bit, my tense muscles finally easing and letting me become putty in Hongjoong’s comforting embrace.

“He won’t touch you.” There was a menace in his tone, warning and promising of pain, his eyes glazed over with fire for a second, memories taking him away from me, but Hongjoong quickly returned as his eyes cleared, tone more passionate than before, “If there’s anyone that can keep you captive, then that’s me because I’ll forever treat you with respect and love, care and tenderness. I’ll be your slave if that’s what you want me to be, I’ll prove to you again and again how devoted I am, I’ll treat you like a Queen if that’s who you want to be, Y/N. But most of all, I’ll run until the end of Earth for you if that means I can keep you safe, I’ll run and never stop. I’ll never step foot into Olympus ever again if that keeps you safe from those tyrants.”

“Don’t say that.” I whispered as Hongjoong’s left arm untangled from around my torso so that he could cup my cheek, “With me gone, it’s already hard for everyone to keep up. I’m making you do all the work by yourself, it’s unfair. If you’ll be gone too, I fear our fates will be dire once we are discovered.”

“I know more than he’ll ever know, Y/N, I carry all secrets and strategies. If he tries to separate us or threatens to turn us into stars, I’ll know how to corner him.” A smirk that would frighten any mortal crossed Hongjoong’s lips, “And I will threaten to throw him off if he doesn’t back off.”

I knew no matter what I said to my lover his resolve wouldn’t break, it was of no use trying to convince Hongjoong that if he went against Zeus he most certainly would perish. No matter how much you knew, not even his own weaknesses could stop the God, he was the father of us all after all, and Hongjoong was merely a deity that had more power and free will than those unlucky like me.

“I love you.” The confession bubbled past my quivering lips, and I watched Hongjoong’s Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed, eyes darkening with want and fire that was perfectly reflected in his amber irises. Our human bodies were more fragile than our godly forms, they felt everything so much deeper, so much more passionately. I couldn’t help but succumb to the fire that licked at my skin as our warm lips pressed together, hungry and never satiated with the other as Hongjoong gently grabbed my hips and manoeuvred me around until I was sat atop him. Our lips smacked together with a languid pace and our teeth clumsily clanked together whenever one of us bit the other’s bottom lip eagerly, my long fingers finding purchase in Hongjoong’s wavy strands as his calloused hands guided my core over his clothed member. The soft fabric of his sleepwear was thin and hid nothing as he grunted at the first drag of my hips forward and back, making me eagerly swallow the sounds he was making. One warm hand settled on my thigh, underneath my nightgown, and slowly bunched up the fabric until it rested just above my hips.

Desire licked at my insides as hotness spread through my body, cheeks flushed as Hongjoong’s hands traced invisible patterns into my skin, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps as they slowly slithered towards my lower back, digging into my flesh. I sighed against his mouth before pulling back to tilt his head back and press kisses against his well-defined jaw, the moonlight making his appearance godlier than he ever was in his deity form. I moaned against his simmering skin as his nails dug into the flesh of my bottom, heat pooling in my lower stomach as he pressed me down just harder on his clothed member, drawing out a moan from both of us as my bare core ground right on top of it. The wetness between my legs only became more prominent and I bit into the flesh of his neck, making Hongjoong’s head fall back as he breathed through his mouth loudly, a whine falling past them every time I sucked a little harder, every time I let him drag my core over his hard member, hot despite the fabric separating us.

“I love you.” He gasped into the silence as his hands settled on my thighs again, my hips moving on their own as the friction had started feeling too good to stop, leaving a dark patch on his light-coloured trousers, which mixed with his own precum. I pressed a long kiss against his lips as I fiddled with the hem of his trousers and hastily pulled them down, freeing his member as I eagerly aligned myself up with it, our eyes meeting before I sunk on it. Hongjoong’s grip tightened on my thighs and he whimpered as I hugged him close to my body, fingers tangling into his hair once again, offering an anchor as my walls clamped down on his length. Hongjoong was safe, home was where he was, and I never wished to be anywhere else but in his arms. He saw past my gift and looked at my soul, he appreciated me and worshipped me for who I truly was and not for why everyone seemed to want me. Just a seer, a lowly deity that was able to glance into the future and sometimes the present. Hongjoong never demanded of me to look into his future, to spy on a vision for him, he only asked me to love him back. But he didn’t have to ask, I had always known if there was any mortal or deity I could love, it was him.

The muscles of my thighs tensed as I tentatively rose before sinking back down on his dick, making Hongjoong groan as he leaned back to support himself with one hand, bracing my hip with his other as he gently guided me. I let my hands rest on his shoulders as he snapped his hips upwards and ripped a moan out of me, making me meet his thrusts eagerly as our movements synced up, the slapping sounds became louder and louder in the confinement of our bedroom as we both lost each other to the feeling of overwhelming lust and love, the desire to possess and be possessed, to belong to someone, to love and be loved.

But life had not always been like this. For centuries and centuries, it hadn’t been like this but full of torment, pain, and demands that seemingly never came to an end. Everyone always wanted something from me, they always took and took, but they never gave back anything. I understood my role in the Cosmos, and as the bearer of messages between the mortals and Gods, I knew I had to be flexible and report whenever I was needed. I had to prioritize my purpose and place everyone above myself, it’s just how nature worked. And it had been alright, I felt most fulfilled when I was doing what my calling was, when I was guiding Gods and mortals alike, stringing them onto the right path headed towards a bright future. But I was naïve and careless, I hadn’t realized that once the knowledge of the full extent of my powers fell into the wrong hands it would be exploited, that it would turn against me and hurt me in the process. Glancing into the future, predicting silly things like the weather, and warning mortals of floods or wildfires soon turned into commands and demands of looking into the fate of a disobeying God or Goddess, into spying on those that dared turn against Zeus, of migraine after migraine when I was at my wit's end, begging to be left alone to recharge and step away from the visions.

Zeus was unforgiving and violent, greedy and desperate to control everything and everyone around him. When the word of me being a seer got to him, my freedom was stripped and I never saw the sunlight unless I had orders to deliver a message. My visions became constant because I just had to do what he told me if I didn’t want to turn into a star, and my body and mind were exhausted. I couldn’t sleep, sometimes I would get stuck in a vision for weeks on end, unable to break free, becoming a prisoner of my own mind. It was terrifying and excruciatingly painful; I couldn’t tell whether I was still alive or not. It was silly, a deity never dies as long as it has worshippers, but my soul felt so tired I wished all mortals would drop dead so that my existence would cease too.

Zeus hid me away from everyone, he lied to Hera that I decided to reside on a secluded island down amongst the humans and wished not to be spoken to or reached out to unless the message was time-bound and very important. I had been an important messenger of Hera, and my heart broke when I felt her trust and respect in me vane, but what hurt, even more, was that she never questioned her lover, that she never actually tried to look for me and see if the God was indeed saying the truth. What hurt the most, even in my deity form, was that nobody actually cared enough about me to come and rescue me from the terrorizing clutches of Zeus, that nobody loved and respected me to save me from the torment I had to go through for centuries on end. Everything hurt, even speaking and sleeping, I was nothing but a shell of what I once used to be. Zeus never cared, he just wanted the visions, he threw me around until the physical pain became so unbearable that I just had to scavenge my mind for even a trace of a vision. I became scared of my own power, of what he’d to do me if I didn’t learn how to control it better.

And then one night, or day I couldn’t tell, as I lay exhausted on the cold marble floor of the room Zeus had imprisoned me into, there was a whoosh of a breeze inside and the shatter of a vase. I had no idea what’s happened, I couldn’t see quite right and my head was pounding, covering everything in an unclear haze. But something metallic was hurled underneath my long fingers and when my index finger curiously poked against it a vision so sudden and harsh that it knocked the wind out of my lungs clouded my eyes with flashes of a handsome and somewhat familiar face, smile mischievous yet menacing, his amber eyes ablaze and raging. I had known of him, of course, I have, but we’ve never quite crossed paths, so it was bizarre to get a vision so suddenly of Hermes. It wasn’t even Zeus asking me to look into him, I wasn’t even forcing my mind and soul to connect with it, it just came by itself. Tears flooded my unseeing eyes at the feeling and I tried not to sob upon realizing that my soul was still somewhat aligned with the Cosmos despite how much I’ve forced myself to see and hear everything, having broken the order of the Universe.

And the vision of Hermes persisted for months on end, until, the marble door separating me from freedom was blown into bits and pieces and the God rushed inside with flushed cheeks and a ragged breath. He said nothing as he scooped me up in his arms, lips hot as they pressed against my cold forehead, and for the first time since my existence, my heart started beating in an uneven pattern, fingers digging into the silky fabric of his shirt as I begged him to save me. Hermes looked angry, but not at me, he looked at me with pity in his eyes but said nothing as he broke the glass of the window with the heel of his foot. I couldn’t remember much as I lost consciousness after that, but I felt the wind blow around us harshly as we fell freely, descending into a realm that was familiar yet new, a cocoon of lush green trees and springs that were clearer than the sky and sun hotter than the rays in Olympus, a place that soon became our new home.

The paths leading down the mountain range were soon after our arrival covered in cobblestones, creating an easy and clear passage for the villagers of Ano Skotina, Palaioi Poroi and Palaios Panteleimonas down to Dion, which resided at the foothill of Mount Olympus. The villagers had put in hard work once Hermes brought up his idea, and with his help, it only took the men a few weeks to construct the paths and connect the otherwise strenuous trek for the villagers if they wished to travel between the settlements. But with our arrival it seemed that the fauna and flora flourished more than before, the villagers became livelier and eagerly awaited the appearance of a rainbow which hadn’t been spotted in ages by the mortals.

Having been saved from the clutches of Zeus, I was finally regaining myself. Hongjoong stood by my side every single step of the journey and he offered a helping hand when it all became too much and too exhausting. He hid me away from all the deities and promised to settle down in a village where Zeus would never find us. We couldn’t go far from Olympus as he still had to fulfil his duties, but with me gone, Zeus had no insight into anyone, he wouldn’t know who had stolen his slave away from him.

But even if we were hiding in plain sight, we’d never be safe from him.

On the days that the Gods and Goddesses were too busy bickering with each other, forgetting all about their worshippers, the sky seemed to be clearer and a lighter blue. On days like that it was safe for me to leave the confines of Ano Skotina and hike down to Dion with Hongjoong. I loved days like this because as much as I was scared of Zeus finding us, I loved the loudness of the bustling town, the liveliness and eagerness on the faces of mortals, and most importantly, I loved the market where we could trade fresh flowers and fruits. If the weather deemed good and the deities remained preoccupied with their selfish deeds, Hongjoong and I would follow the path down to the sea and dip in the warm but refreshing water. Poseidon wasn’t always around, busy with his errands, so, it was safe to explore the beautiful sea in his absence.

Given our origins, it took Hongjoong and me around an hour to descend from the mountainside down into the town, our talaria polished and well-kept. We hid them in Hongjoong’s satchel as soon as we neared the closest settlement to avoid being discovered by the humans. Sneaking around always brought a little sense of excitement, of my blood boiling hotter and my heart pumping faster, only heightened when Hongjoong would playfully chase me down the cobblestone-covered paths inside of Dion, heads turning our way as they watched on curiously. There wasn’t a day where boredom could threaten to kidnap me if Hongjoong was around, he’s had plenty of time to observe the earthlings and find out what would be amusing and help the time pass by faster. Not that I wished for that to happen, I cherished every second I spent next to Hongjoong, clinging to him despite our unlimited time.

Being with him had always felt right, from the very moment he lifted me in his arms to save me from Zeus. There was something about his eyes that assured me that we were right for each other, that it was written in the stars, that my suffering for so long wasn’t fruitless. He had known he had to save me when he accidentally caught a glimpse of me through the barely open door of my cell-like room, Zeus’ voice booming as he demanded a vision from me before he could send Hermes on his way to deliver his message. He had returned just days later and snuck inside my room to assess the situation, accidentally knocked over a vase when he heard someone approach the door, then fled through the open window. He couldn’t return for months; Zeus was suspicious of him and he was scared if he was caught we’d both perish. But he remained vigilant and at last came back for me.

I made sure to remain close to Hongjoong’s side as the market was packed with more people than usual this afternoon, our pinkies reaching out for each other whenever the other strayed closer. He was discussing something I couldn’t hear with a blacksmith, wondering whether he had more metal to trade with him as my attention remained on the flower stall and the lovely old lady who always had the brightest smile on her face. Her grey strands were beautiful and highlighted her age nicely, and despite her late age, her demeanour was just as youthful as a child’s.

When our eyes met, she beckoned me over with a happy look on her face. Casting Hongjoong a quick glance to make sure he hadn’t moved away yet, I made my way over to the vendor and bowed my head in greetings, “My dear! I haven’t seen you in too long, I was worried about you.”

“My apologies for worrying you, kind soul, I haven’t been able to leave my village.” I kept my answer as vague as possible as her eyebrows furrowed in slight worry. Lately, the deities were busy watching over their desperate worshippers so I couldn’t risk my safety and cover.

“That boy of yours isn’t keeping you captive, is he?” Her eyes narrowed as my cheeks flushed and I quickly shook my head, not keen on her choice of words. I hated hearing anything that had a connection to captivity, and just the thought of Hongjoong keeping me as his prisoner was disgusting and infuriating.

“He would never,” My voice was harsher than intended, “He cherishes me more than anyone ever has.”

“Good, good.” The vendor muttered as her features relaxed once again, “Would you like some pomegranates? I traded them just this morning, I hear they’ve been blessed by Aphrodite herself. Perhaps they’ll make me look youthful once again.”

The old lady giggled as she grabbed the fruit and extended her hand towards me, making my muscles tense at the mention of the deity. If it truly had been blessed by the Goddess I didn’t want to touch it, let alone eat it. She hadn’t been the kindest to me in our years of knowing each other, and despite knowing that Zeus held me in a chamber as his slave, she never said anything to anyone.

“Thank you, but I must refuse you. I do not have anything to trade it with.” The vendor shrugged and put the fruit away, her fingers grazing against the petals of a sunflower. My eyes followed the action and I yearned to do the same, the yellowness of the flower reminded me of my own rainbow’s colour. It had been a while since I had brought upon the earth a rainbow, I missed its beauty and comforting colours.

“Your scarf seems to be made of silk,” The old lady hummed as she eyed me curiously, “I’ll give you a bouquet of sunflowers if you trade it with me, I know they are your favourite flowers.”

I gulped and gripped the scarf, pondering whether it was worth trading something of high value with something that had little value. But the piece of fabric held no sentimental value to me and autumn would be soon approaching, the old lady needed the scarf more than I did for her body was weaker than mine will ever be. And she was right, I did love sunflowers, it’s been too long since I could hold them in my hands, so, I nodded and untied the scarf from around my neck.

“You’ll seriously trade that beautiful piece for sunflowers?” The vendor next to the old lady asked with scepticism, a dark-haired woman with bushy eyebrows and greediness that wasn’t missed by the mortals either. The old lady ignored her as she tied a big bouquet together for me, happy to trade them.

“I can find many more scarves like this one, but summer is soon ending and I’ll have to wait a long time until sunflowers bloom again,” I answered with a soft smile and took the flowers after I handed over my scarf. The old lady took her time to examine it carefully and I glanced behind myself to see where Hongjoong was. He had moved on to another stall and he was surrounded by several men now as they conversed animatedly, his face bright under the sunlight and amber eyes glinting with interest.

“You have such little value for your possessions.” The other vendor grumbled, and the old lady laughed as she shook her head at the younger woman. I said nothing as I cradled the bouquet against my chest, looking down at the flowers to examine them. Its petals were soft between my fingertips and I took note that its hue was much more vibrant than the colour in my own rainbow, perhaps I could make mine more prominent too.

“The only possession I want to have is over my beloved, nothing else matters to me.”

“Oh, to be young and completely enraptured with a man.” The old lady mused with a knowing look on her face once I looked up at her, my cheeks dusted pink as I realized I had spoken my mind too freely, “I haven’t seen a pair as devoted as you two are to each other.”

“There must be some, I cannot imagine not loving with your whole soul and being—”

“Love is just a fairytale the deities made up to wrangle us around by the nose and manipulate us into doing whatever they want.” The other vendor lady snapped as she interrupted me, and my eyebrows furrowed at her harsh words. Certainly, if any deity were to hear her, her place in the Underworld would be assured and arranged to be painful. The old lady hissed and gave the other vendor an irritated look.

“Quit being so pessimistic, especially to such a young soul.” Before the other vendor could say anything else, the old lady faced me with a curious look, “You must be coming tonight to the offering, right? Zeus will bless you and then you will never part from your lover, he’s great like that.”

Zeus was anything but great, but I didn’t want to ruin the lady’s image of the deity. If I were a maiden praying to Zeus to watch over my lover, he’d rather take me as his lover than offer us his protection. Zeus was horrible like that. But the thought of him made me shiver and I tried to ignore my tensing muscles. I had no idea it was already that time of the month, Hongjoong must’ve forgotten too, otherwise, we would’ve never come down to Dion today of all days.

“I’m afraid I won’t be joining you tonight, I haven’t been feeling well these past few days.” A curious look crossed both of the ladies' eyes and I gulped nervously as I started feeling jittery. I realized I had conversed with them for too long and it was time I returned to the safety of Hongjoong, where nobody would bother me anymore or ask questions.

“You must be with child, then.” The younger vendor declared and my eyebrows furrowed as I cast a glance at her. I most certainly wasn’t with child, I would’ve felt it, but if that lie helped stop more curious questions, then I would take it.

“I am not sure, but perhaps I am,” I answered and the old lady gasped, eyes falling to my belly.

“That is great news, indeed! May the child have your peculiar hair colour and his father’s beautiful eyes.” She wished earnestly and I smiled, feeling just a little bit guilty that Hongjoong and I weren’t actually expecting a child anytime soon. But I blinked my eyes faster and looked down abashed, resisting the urge to shuffle my feet. Deciding that I should return to my lover’s side now, I bid the two vendors my sincerest goodbyes and turned around to search the crowd for Hongjoong. He was a couple of steps away, doing the same, and his eyes lit up when they found me. He had a wide grin on his lips and he waved his fingers playfully as he took off towards me, his steps bouncy and giddy. I chuckled and stopped to let him reach me first, but as I did so, a child narrowly avoided colliding with me as his warm skin brushed against my hand.

The sudden change of scenery managed to knock the wind from my lungs as I gasped and looked around, the market was eerily empty and the sun was hidden behind clouds as suddenly it started becoming darker and darker outside. White mist left my lips as I breathed through my mouth loudly, the temperature having severely dropped made me shiver in my summer gown, head whipping around as I searched for another living soul. But there was no one, not even Hongjoong, and I clenched my palms into fists when I heard the hauntingly familiar cackle once again. The Dryads weren’t here whispering again and I wondered if I’d see the young man once again, if he’d come to warn me again. But nothing happened until an eagle screamed in the distance and then a dark shadow appeared just by the entrance to the market. Its features were unrecognizable, but it towered over the gate as its silver orbs vibrated, looking wildly my way. I gasped and tried to take steps backwards, but I was trapped once again. I felt warm hands touching my arms, a muffled voice worriedly calling my name and something wet pressing against my cheek. The darkness persisted, however, and the shadow cackled once again as the eagle screamed and was suddenly plummeting down towards me, sharp claws drawn and beak parting. But before it could touch me, rip me apart, my eyes flew open.

The loudness of the market made my head thump in pain and I realized I was clutching onto Hongjoong’s shirt tightly as I tried to regain my breathing. My eyes searched to crowd frantically for the shadow, but also to make sure nobody saw my episode. Hongjoong’s arms were warm and slightly trembling as they pulled me into a tight embrace, his lips pressing against my temple as he sighed loudly, “You’re alright, I got you. Let’s head back home, my beloved.”

I nodded wordlessly as Hongjoong took my hand in his and manoeuvred us around the crowd, making sure nobody familiar ran into us so that we’d be able to leave faster. I appreciated his attentiveness as I followed after him, my fingers tightening against his as the crowd was slowly vanning out the closer we reached the end of the town. His features softened once he slowed down to let me fall in step with him, and I raised our joined hands to press a kiss against his hand, “Thank you.”

He said nothing but his amber eyes turned warmer as red swirled behind his irises, his wavy brown hair falling into his eyes and making him look boyish. I chuckled and pressed up on my tiptoes to steal a kiss from Hongjoong, making his eyes widen as a man had just passed us on his horse, his lips widening into an amused smile at our display of affection. I knew my lover was blushing red when he turned his head away, but he squeezed my hand once to let me know he appreciated the gesture, “I saw him again, the shadow, the darkness, the eagle. You know it’s Zeu—”

“Do not speak his name.” Hongjoong cut me off roughly, all previous warmth gone from his features as he faced me abruptly, “Don’t say it, Y/N, I hate it when you do. I hate him, and everything he’s done to you. You are safe with me and nothing will happen to you, I have sworn and I will keep swearing.”

“I know,” I muttered, gulping nervously as I averted my eyes, “but the visions never lie, my love, he’s close, I am not safe anymore.”

I tried not to yelp when suddenly two warm palms cradled my cheeks and yanked me close to Hongjoong’s face, his ablaze eyes boring into mine with fury and determination, “You are mine and if anyone, mortal or deity, touches you, I will burn them until nothing’s left of them. You have suffered enough, I will not let anyone take advantage of you ever again, Iris, it’s over.”

My eyes fluttered closed as my heart thumped wildly, and I leaned forward to press a lasting kiss against Hongjoong’s lips, who pressed his body incredibly close to mine, “You wear my petasos, my beloved, everyone knows you’re mine. Everyone knows what will happen to them if they try to claim you, I won’t allow it anymore.”

His voice was deeper as he spoke up once our lips weren’t pressing against each other and I licked my lips as I nodded, smoothing out the creases between his eyebrows. A silly thought came to mind as Hongjoong’s eyes searched my face and I chuckled as I leaned so close my lips brushed against his when I spoke again, “The vendor ladies think I am with child.”

Hongjoong’s breath stuttered and his pupils dilated as one of his hands grabbed my hips, pressing my body painfully so into his, “Perhaps you should be with child, my beloved.”

“Do you want that?” I asked in a whisper, throat feeling dry as I tried to ignore the fire spreading through my body. This greedy little human body could be so lustful.

“Yes, I want you full of my seed and belly round and pretty.” Hongjoong’s voice was deep as he answered and I had to take a second to compose myself, trying to be the bigger person right now. It wouldn’t be the first time things got a little bit out of hand while we were in public, and I didn’t want something as mortifying to happen again. Last time we were lucky the unfortunate soul who saw us in a scandalous predicament had been an older lady and her husband, both understanding and giggling as they rushed away from the scene. Truthfully, we could’ve picked a more secluded spot and the back of a bar that was often frequented.

“We’re being indecent, Hongjoong.”

“Then let me take you home and show you just how much I want you to carry our child.”

“Hongjoong.”

One of us had to attend the offering, it was inevitable, and since nobody knew of my location but with Hermes still around, it wasn’t a question that it would be him who would descent to Dion tonight and bring a small flower crown made from my sunflowers and the neighbour’s weeds as his own offering. As a deity, we didn’t have to attend such worshipping customs, but since we were disguising ourselves as mortals it would look suspicious if we didn’t tag along from time to time. I never showed my face around when they were bringing offerings to Zeus as he often liked to disguise himself and come down, watch his loyal followers, and even take maidens to bed and spread his bloodline, but when they would show gratitude for Isis, I made sure to tag along. A deity recognized a deity even in disguise, and despite her catching me at her altar more than once, she never said anything. She could feel my pain, she could see past my smile and looked into my battered soul. She was sensitive and kind, instead of bringing me to Zeus, she blessed me and healed my wounds so that nothing could hurt me so horrendously ever again.

Once we had gotten back from Dion, Hongjoong was busy showing me just how much he really wanted me to carry our child, very reluctant to leave the bed to get ready for the night. I knew he didn’t want to go, he knew I didn’t want to be left alone tonight out of all nights, but we also both knew that we did not have a choice. Deities rarely had a choice, the greater good just always seemed to call out to us. But still, I helped him bathe and dress up, I cooked him a warm dinner and braided little strands of his soft hair while he was busy chiselling his talaria, his petasos already pristine, the leather smelling fresh and feeling soft under the skin.

“Are you certain I must go?” Hongjoong asked with a sigh once he was done with his talaria, eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me. I ran my fingers through his hair and ruffled the strands that fell into his eyes.

“Yes, my love, you must.” I hummed quietly and Hongjoong sighed long, “We hadn’t attended the offerings in a while, the townsfolk will get suspicious of us at this rate and I quite like this place.”

“I like it here too, it’s serene.” He hummed absentmindedly and I stepped back to let him wear his winged sandals, raising to his feet to test out their agility. He was fast, as always, in good shape and ready to tackle the night’s challenges. I smiled at him proudly as he came to stand in front of me, hands settling on my hips as he licked his lips and looked down at my mouth, “If anything feels wrong, go over to Mr. Do, he will keep you company.”

“I don’t think poor old Mr. Do will be able to tackle a god like Zeus if he shows up,” I said with a chuckle as I circled my arms around Hongjoong’s shoulders, standing on my tiptoes to reach his face better. He chuckled as his eyes searched my face, the amber swirling as fear made its way shown, “I will be alright, Hongjoong, don’t you worry.”

“Of course you will be.” He answered with a scoff as if Zeus showing up was such an impossible feat, “And when I return, I will show you once again just how eager I am to have you with child, to spend the rest of my eternity with you and our son or daughter. I want them to have your kindness and faith, and I want them to have my determination and strength.”

“Aren’t you thinking a bit far ahead, my love?” I asked with a snicker as Hongjoong pouted and shook his head.

“Of course I’m not, my beloved, the seed has been planted, we both felt it.” Hongjoong lowered his face and I watched as his lips parted, “The shift in the Universe has happened, the stars aligned for our love once again, Y/N.”

“We’ve been blessed.” I whispered and tangled my fingers in the hair at his nape, pushing Hongjoong’s face closer to mine, “I am fully yours now.”

“You’ve always been fully mine,” Hongjoong’s voice dropped as his fingers dug into my skin through the fabric of my gown, “only mine.”

I hummed and leaned my head back as his warm lips pressed against mine, instantly eager as they pressed together firmly and forcefully, asking me to part my lips for him. Hongjoong moaned when my tongue dragged against his, coaxing him in deeper as our saliva mixed and tongues brushed together, lighting my skin on fire. My heart pumped faster and my skin jittered, hushed voices and hazy orbs fluttering behind my eyes as a vision threatened to kidnap me from this moment. But I stopped it, I wanted to enjoy the touch of my lover, the sounds of my lover, as I knew the darkness would be back if I were to succumb to the greater force.

Our pace was languid as Hongjoong dragged each kiss out, sucking on my bottom lip before he’d dive right back in, sucking on my tongue too and making me whimper as my hand found an anchor in his nape, holding him as if I were afraid he’d pull back too soon. But he didn’t, he soaked up in the sounds and only kissed me more desperately, pulling back for air when it became too much for our human bodies. I was breathing hard and Hongjoong struggled to even out his pants, our foreheads pressing together as he cleared his throat once and then twice. He licked his lips and then pursed them, fingers twitching as he raised his hands to cup my cheeks, “I wish to return earlier tonight, I’m not done with you yet, Y/N. I have figured if I go earlier and stay for a shorter amount of time it should be fine, Zeus will want me to report back to him so I’ll try to make my journey as fast as possible.”

“I’ll be right here so don’t rush yourself, I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said worriedly as we untangled from each other, I tried to smooth out the knots I created in Hongjoong’s hair. His outfit remained spotless, the black fabric tight and secure around his strong and well-built body, hugging him snuggly in places that wouldn’t restrict his movement.

“I’m too restless to remain until the end of the festivity either way,” Hongjoong shrugged and kissed my cheek before he went to grab his petasos, “Go to Mr. Do if anything feels even a little bit wrong.”

“I will, I promise.” I smiled reassuringly as my lover headed for the front door, pausing to turn back around with a worrisome look on his face. I knew he was reluctant to go, but he had no choice. One of us had to go and it was him, it was always him, he’d have to report back to Olympus either way and he was right, the quicker he got over with everything, the faster he could return to me. But as soon as the door closed behind me and I was left alone in our safe abode, dark visions clouded my eyes and sent me tumbling to the floor.

The evening had been harsh to me, the visions seemed to turn only darker as the hours passed by, taunting me. It felt as if I wasn’t in control anymore, as if it was someone else controlling what I saw. My heart pumped fast and my head thumped wildly making my ears ring, and I felt boneless as I tried to stand from the chair I managed to drag myself into. My sight was hazy as I felt around the table for the glass of spring water Hongjoong and I had collected earlier this day, but I failed to reach the cool glass and thus gave up as a harsh wave of nausea almost made me gag. I had never reacted to my abilities so harshly, I couldn’t determine whether it was worrisome or not that my body was having such visceral reactions to the darkness that seemed to linger in the corner of my eyes.

I knew that I was alone in the house and that my visions were tricking me into believing someone was watching me from the shadows, candles unlit as I found the task too strenuous to do with my current state. It all felt too real, it made me scared of how easily my body was succumbing to the terror-filled memories that followed my bodily reactions. It wasn’t the first time my body threatened to shut down, but it’s been far too long since I had felt so sick. It made me remember my captivity and everything I had to endure at Zeus’ hands when he pushed my body over the limit and forced me to become nothing but a vessel that relayed the visions of a seer. I was scared because Hongjoong wasn’t here and because I couldn’t figure out just exactly what was triggering this reaction. All of Isis’ blessings seemed futile all of a sudden, and I found myself wondering whether I could ask the Goddess for guidance and help in dire need, a beckon of light to help me survive until Hongjoong returned and figured out a way to stop my suffering.

But I remembered that Mr. Do was a healer of sorts, a little too old and grumpy, but the villagers loved him and trusted him with their lives countless times before, I have seen it firsthand. Hongjoong and he seemed to have a mutual respect and a deeper understanding of the other’s force that I failed to see and sense. And despite every muscle and joint in my body protesting when I finally pushed myself up into a standing position, I found Hongjoong’s deep trust in the old man a reassuring thought that pushed me to take action and bring myself to the old man’s doorstep, perhaps he knew how to fix this. I had barely reached the front door of my house when my muscles locked up as if they sensed danger, my skin tingling in a way only around another deity it did. But I was alone inside the house, it made no sense, perhaps my seer abilities became uncontrollable and started lashing out in peculiar ways.

I swung the door open, finding the task difficult as my body vehemently tried to disobey my mind’s commands, and despite the haze that clouded my sight, Mr. Do’s small frame not even a few steps away was unmistakable. I hadn’t noticed, but the wind was howling as it bent the weaker branches of trees in odd ways and not one candle was lit inside the neighbouring huts. Cold darkness wrapped around us and I shuddered as it bit at my skin mercilessly, “Mr. Do?”

My voice sounded breathless and pained and my eyebrows furrowed as the older man stepped closer so that I could see him clearly, “Oh, you look sickly, my dear. Let’s head inside.”

I couldn’t find it in myself to object and stepped back inside my house as Mr. Do followed, his height shorter than my lover’s. It seemed to be relatively warmer inside the house, but I still shuddered as I brought the shawl tighter around my shoulders, pressing my nose against the fabric as it smelled like Hongjoong. It brought little comfort, but I relished in it as I willed my sight to clear, at least that little if nothing else seemed to be right with me. Mr. Do seemed curious as his eyes searched the place and I watched him with slight confusion, wondering if it’s been too long since he’d stepped inside our house. But it looked as it always did, the interior hadn’t changed since last week when Hongjoong insisted on having the old man over for dinner as a payment for his kindness after he healed Hongjoong’s broken fingers. It was a freak accident; one he couldn’t heal down here unless he wanted to be caught by the mortals.

“What is bothering you, my dear?” The warm smile felt wrong on Mr. Do’s face, he was someone who never smiled nor showed affection, his face a mask of coldness and uninterest. He never used nicknames and he had never once in his life before directly addressed me. Mr. Do seemed to be afraid to say my name for some reason and he always brought pastries whenever there was a rainbow in the sky, that’s the most emotion he had ever shown. That’s how I knew he didn’t completely mistrust me or hate me. This man standing in front of me was not Mr. Do. But it was too late now, I had already welcomed him inside. I quickly realized that despite his disguise, he couldn’t hide his godly aura, the faint glow around his body or the respect it demanded.

“Why are you here?” Despite my voice being faint, it carried conviction, and braveness, “What do you want?”

“My little seer back.” The man disguised as Mr. Do chuckled and walked further inside the house, walking around as he touched vases and ornaments that clearly belonged to Hermes, “You must understand my utter shock when I found out she was gone. My utter anger and annoyance when I searched for her relentlessly and she was just gone as if swallowed by the earth itself. I assumed it was Hades at first, we know how he likes to play me and taunt me, but when I found him gone from his kingdom and meddling with humans from far away times, I realized something more peculiar had happened.”

I didn’t dare speak up as Zeus walked closer, the face of Mr. Do scrunching up as he tsked, “Imagine my utter confusion and rage when I find out Hermes, my precious messenger and guide, decided to settle amongst the mortals. Not only did I lose my seer, but my messenger too.”

“Hermes never stopped serving you.” My voice was harsh as I willed the bile down my throat and blinked my eyes quickly to try and get rid of the haze, which was very possibly induced by Zeus himself. I understood why my body lashed out like this, it sensed danger and it was warning me. But it was too late now, I had walked myself into Zeus’ trap.

“He didn’t, you are right, little seer, but he also started slacking off.” He scoffed and I gulped as I remained put, my feet frozen to the floor, “You must imagine I assumed he was frolicking with the mortals at first, but then certain inaccuracies just stopped making sense, you see. I have other means of looking into my little deities, Iris, I don’t need you—”

“Then why did you keep me for so long?” My voice raised as my sight finally cleared and I was able to glare at Mr. Do’s serene face, fire and anger replacing my fear as I stared the God down, “If you don’t need me, why did you subject me to so much strenuous work and pain? Why did you force me to seek and seek without break, to bend myself and ruin who I once was?”

“The secret to being a deity is so simple, my little seer,” Zeus’ voice was quiet as he walked even closer, eyebrows slightly furrowed, “We are just like these mortals that worship us, we are greedy and selfish and we take without consideration, we possess and we demand, we punish and we slay, so, what sets us apart from them?”

“Immortality, lack of morals and care of those around us,” I whispered, unable to gulp down the lump in my throat anymore as my heart raced faster, ears starting to ring once again.

“Power, abilities that mortals will never have, is what sets us apart, Iris—or should I call you Y/N, now?” Mr. Do chuckled but his voice sounded distorted. My muscles tensed when his short frame suddenly grew taller, towering over me menacingly, “This is why you are such an insignificant deity to most, you are too soft, you love and want to be loved. You wish to belong to someone and to possess someone, it makes you weak. You act more like a mortal than a Goddess.”

“I never felt like I belonged in Olympus,” My face became hard as my eyes narrowed, unafraid to speak my mind for once. A surge of anger pushed me to speak my mind, to stand up for myself and demand the respect I was never given, “I was always pushed away by my kin, made fun of and ostracized. Your own lovely wife made me a slave of hers, and then you. You look down on me and judge me, but you wish to possess just as much as I do, if not more.”

The God remained silent as his jaw ticked and Mr. Do’s face formed into an unfamiliar shape, features mixing with familiar faces, but still unknown. It didn’t stop shifting as Zeus’ eyes bore into mine and it felt like the air was ripped from my lungs as they started squeezing in on itself, choking me as I fell to the side, clutching onto the table tightly.

“I want to punish you direly for thinking you could abandon your ruler, Iris, I really do wish.” His voice was a dark hiss as I tried to breathe, but couldn’t, “But you’re too precious to be turned into foam or a star, Hermes, however, I know just the perfect way to make him suffer for his insubordination.”

My eyes widened at the mention of Hongjoong and I tried to speak, but I couldn’t as dark spots started colouring my vision. I tried to object and scream, but no word left my mouth as I scrapped at my throat in despair while Zeus watched on with an amused expression. He loved seeing his toys fret and beg for mercy, he loved feeling like the King he was, able to rule over everyone and decide everyone’s fate. But before my misery could continue, the door of the house was slammed open and loud panting filled the house.

“I forgot my satchel—” Hongjoong’s breathless words caught in his throat as suddenly the airflow was back in my lungs and I started coughing loudly as my knees gave out and sent me tumbling to the floor. Hongjoong was by my side in an instant, body hot and skin sizzling as he grabbed my cheeks and forced my head up. His amber eyes were almost fully red as he searched for visible injuries and his jaw ticked as he turned his head to face Zeus. He had a vicious look in his eyes and he almost but spat in front of the God as his voice thundered in the confined space, “What are you doing here?!”

“I came for what’s mine—” The laugh that left Hongjoong’s mouth was guttural and it made me shiver as my frantic eyes looked at my lover with despair, begging him to remain level-headed so that he wouldn’t ruin his chances of survival furthermore.

“What’s yours?” Hongjoong spat, eyes falling on me once again to make sure I was alright. He gulped as he cradled my cheeks and I opened my mouth to beg him to stop and walk away, but lips pressed against mine firmly before I was staring back into his wild amber eyes once again. He had made up his mind, and I could do nothing to convince him to stop, to think through whatever action he took next. He was here to protect me and if that meant he’d lose his life in the process, he didn’t care. He had sworn to protect me and I knew he’d do no less than that, “Enlighten me, Zeus, what’s yours again?”

The God seemed appalled by the way Hongjoong spoke to him, face contorting into disgust as he watched my quivering form and Hongjoong’s protective stance as he stood up and shielded me from the God’s furious eyes, “Iris is what’s mine, you fool. I will feed you to Cerberus if you utter one more word—”

But Hongjoong was reckless and he didn’t care as he threw his head back to laugh loudly, hysterically, and I clutched the trousers at his ankle and yanked on them to get him to stop, but he was gone, far gone. He’d go to unimaginable lengths to protect what was his and not even his lover could stop him anymore.

“Cerberus would hack me back up if he were to swallow me, don’t be foolish you old man.” Hongjoong tsked as if he was scrutinizing a child and my heart raced in fear for him, “Besides, Hades likes me too much to let me perish, after all, I make his job a lot easier with all the souls that I carry for him to the gates of the Underworld.”

Zeus hissed and stepped closer, hands balling up into fists. I took notice of the wind picking up frighteningly so outside, to the point it rattled the hinges of the windows, and I could only pray the other villagers wouldn’t be affected by Zeus’ wrath. They haven’t been anything but kind and loving to us, I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to them.

“Before you destroy this lovely village,” Hongjoong seemed to be thinking the same as he smirked, the look on his face eerie as red swarmed around in his dark irises, overshadowing its beautiful caramel hue, “I must inform you that I have claimed Iris and she has claimed me, so you cannot touch neither one of us, you old fool.”

My cheeks heated despite the predicament and I gulped when deafening silence followed, the wind suddenly disappearing. My heart raced in my chest and it felt like it had ascended into my throat as I felt Hongjoong’s hands around my forearms, helping me up to stand next to him. His smirk remained frightening to any mortal, but the mischievous glint in his eyes told me that he was in control, that the odds were for once in our favour as he smoothed my hair down for me, “And since you are the one that loves to make up foolish rules for your peasants to follow, do I need to remind you what it means when a deity claims someone?”

Zeus just gulped, eyes darting between me and Hongjoong, the veins underneath his skin lightning as they travelled, his eyes turning a misty grey. No one knew Zeus’ real face, but I had come close to seeing it more than once, it was ugly. It reflected the person he was on the inside; he was ugly through and through, no wonder he chose to disguise himself even between his own kin, “I can still use her abilities to my liking, Hermes, that’s not what claiming one enthrals.”

“Oh, does it not now?” Hongjoong chuckled and I felt an arm sneak around my hips until his palm pressed flatly against my belly, his bottom lip between his teeth as raised an eyebrow mockingly, “Even if the seed had been planted to bring forth a new life?”

“She’s pregnant?” Zeus’ voice raised octaves as his eyes widened comically and the fundament of the house shook as I shuddered, clutching onto Hongjoong’s arm for stability. My skin was cold and I was shivering, but Hongjoong remained like a pilar by my side, supporting me and offering me braveness.

“She is pregnant with my child, yes.” Hongjoong’s smirk spread into a wide grin that made him look crazed as his amber eyes simmered in the darkness and the ground shook again. I looked at Zeus reluctantly as I let my hand rest above Hongjoong’s, our fingers tangling together as we held onto my belly. Zeus could feel it too, the shift in the Universe and the change in the alignment of the stars, he knew Hermes and I were fated to be together; he knew if he went against the wishes of the Cosmos, it would be him paying the price and not us. I couldn’t help but huff as I suddenly felt all tension leave my muscles, serenity infusing my brain and body like never before. Hongjoong, too, knew we were safe when his offensive stance relaxed and he stood tall in contentment.

“You are both traitors.” Zeus hissed, but there was no force in his voice, only defeat and despair, “And if I can’t make you pay, the Cosmos will find ways to make you suffer for what you’ve done.”

“Is that what you say to all the mistresses you keep?” My tone was cold and unforgiving, it shocked both Hongjoong and Zeus, “I wish you nothing but an eternity of suffering and misfortune, I wish that all of your children turn on you and bring your demise like you had brought your own father’s, Zeus.”

“Did you just curse me?” His voice boomed as Hongjoong threw his head back and started cackling loudly, bringing a small smile to my lips as I chuckled.

“I am no witch, Zeus, but I believe the Cosmos works in peculiar ways.” I stopped to take a breath, to finally say what I always wished to tell him, “And just because you are supreme to all of us, it doesn’t mean you are invincible. The Cosmos doesn’t differentiate in kind.”

Somewhere in the distance, a bolt of lightning struck and a deafening roar travelled through the forest as Zeus turned into nothing but dust and charged energy, lighting our house in blinding light for a second until everything was covered in darkness and silence. I remained frozen as Hongjoong started giggling, cradling my face as he grinned at me widely, “You are the most breathtaking creature I have ever had the luck to come across, my beloved.”

“I love you too, Hongjoong.” I chuckled and let him kiss me messily before he pulled back and giggled again, unable to contain the giddiness our small victory brought upon the both of us.

“Do you think I still have to report back to him tonight?” The question made me laugh as I threw my arms around his torso and pressed my body against his, revelling in his comforting warmth as I nuzzled my nose against his neck. Hongjoong pressed a chaste kiss against the crown of my head and I melted into his arms, feeling safe and like a weight had been lifted from my chest. We would be alright for the time being, the child would be safe down between the mortals and Zeus would leave us alone for now. I couldn’t tell what the future had in store for us, at least not until a vision came to me, but I didn’t care as long as Hongjoong was by my side.

The Cosmos gifted those deserving and took from those undeserving.

❱❱ Next star

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387 notes · View notes

evilminji · 1 month ago

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You know, i just had the mental image of a sith in star wars finding a ritual or something to summon a ghost and end up summoning danny, while in space. The sith is struggling to try and convince this otherworldly being to help them do evil and their just staring out the nearest viewport in awe about the amount of new space things to discover.

How does it feel? To have such a big and wrinkly brain? So full of smartness?? :O

That? Is Brilliant~☆

It could be a Krell situation. Stress of the war got to be too much. Or a Dooku situation, discontent fed and fed until it burst. Like a silently festering wound, left unseen and untreated.

Regardless of HOW it happened?

The lil shit steals from Madame Nu. Like a CRAZY PERSON.

Rightfully terrified that she will Kick Their Ass into the stratosphere for touching HER archives, they head straight for the "Sith Stuff". What does it DO? What RESEARCH did they do? HA! You ask too much of them! There is no PLAN here!

Their brain has gone to SOUP with the Dark Side. It's all wild mood swings and impulse decisions! Research and careful precautions takes PATIENCE. Planning. The calm and rationality they just THREW OUT AN AIR LOCK.

They are high on the initial high of the Dark Side that few, if any, Dark Siders ever SURVIVE. That TEST of their character and control, as they stand in the storm they have unleashed upon themselves.

You want POWER?

Okay.

HAVE IT.

Like trying to swallow a waterfall. Drink the ocean, one cup at a time. Endless, yes, but equally so? It is BRINE. Not the life giving waters of the Light. The more you drink... the deeper your thirst. The faster you die. Can you control yourself? Suffer it? For that's all that's left... suffering. Thirst. Endless, Endless Thirst.

Water water everywhere, and it shall grind your bones to DUST when next you drink.

Welcome to the Dark Side! Was it WORTH it?

But, ah, our Fallen's brain is muddled soup. They think so. They are not themselves. May never be again. That's why it's a tragedy. Because it both IS and ISN'T their hands that takes that Sith artifact. Because who they WERE would be appalled.

They don't even know what they are grabbing, do they? No one does. Seized from the ruins of a laboratory. Long dead horrors, painted upon the walls. A Sith's obsession with the afterlife of his people. Ghosts. Beings that were, supposedly, DIFFERENT then Force Ghosts.

The notes speak of "green". A vision or experience in his youth. Brief. The world tearing open. A gate to somewhere "green". The Sith believed it was the afterlife. Felt death inside the gate. Described as "peaceful, joyful, driven, and eternal", he was ultimately unable to full articulate the full scope of what he believed he saw.

Now his last device is in the hands of a fallen jedi.

Who is going to USE it.

P A N I C

Obviously, the Temple gaurds chase the crazy mofo as hard as they can. Without a DOUBT, every master on hand and available, is roped in by Madame Nu to FOLLOW that psychopath, before he unleashs FORCE KNOWS WHAT, directly over CORUSCANT AIRSPACE!!! The SENATE. THE TEMPLE?! HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES!?

Fallen McFuckface? Clearly did not think this through (nooooo, REALLY? Everyone is SHOCKED! Shocked, they tell you!), panics. Which is, unfortunately, the LAST thing they wanted them to do. FUCK™.

Masters and Knights are LITERALLY cutting through the hull, kicking down the door, they can survive limited Space exposure and honestly? We're not THAT high yet! Let's see you jump to hyperspace with HOLES in your ship! (Fucking, DONT GIVE THEM IDEAS! They're insane, remember?!) (Shit. You're right.)

When?

.......Green...~¤~

Hilariously? The Sith can plan all they want. But you can NEVER plan for stupid. Make a plan idiot proof, as they say, and the Universe will just build a better idiot. All that carefully curated misery, hatred, and suffering? That DISPAIR. The webs upon webs of Darkness carefully spread across the Senate district? Choking the Temple?

Mmmmm, tasty kindling. Good fuel! Sith Artifact LIKEY~!

It RIPS and TEARS. A screaming MAW IN THE SKY. A black hole for Dark Side energy that takes and takes and TAKES. Dropping people all across the district below. KILLING the particularly irredeemably monstrous. After all~!

The Force? Is in all things.

You DON'T have to be Force Sensitive, to Fall. Just a BASTARD. Just cruel and selfish, hateful and needlessly petty. All the things that would sour and turn a Jedi? Can sour and turn YOU too. Just slower, quiter, and with less explosions. But! It still wraps the Dark around your bones. Feeds it into your blood.

Kills you, when it all gets ripped away.

One must wonder.... how many Senators die instantly? And how many die in the days to come? Slowly, painfully, bed-bound as they reflect on who they had become? The fall out will be SPECTACULAR.

The Jedi's fault? How? How is their being stretched so thin they could not mount a proper response THEIR fault? How is YOUR corruption, THEIR fault? Please note all the individuals who were FINE! Baffled, but FINE!

But perhaps you are correct.

Perhaps, for the safety of ALL, we should MOVE our main Temple.

We've done it before. We can do it again. Or do you not want to HAVE that conversation? Hmmm? No, no, we wouldn't want to be a THREAT to you FINE people! You HONORABLE senators! Please, continue to yell and make demands! SEE HOW FAR IT GETS YOU!

Would they normally send someone more diplomatic? Yes. But STRANGELY all of THEM had weird SITH Darkness on them that got violently ripped off! They are in the halls of healing. Unconscious. Because getting Sith shit, that was hooked into your brain, violently ripped out? Not GREAT! 0 out of 10 healers recommend!

Fuuuuck you! Yes, I bite! And be warned, my Race is VENOMOUS! *aggravated Jedi Senior Padawan noises, hissing*

Danny? Got pulled out in FULL regalia. Just FULL on Ice and Stars. Full "I am the Cosmos beholding itself, I am the dead child you could not save.", beyond vanta-black armor and cape like a window to ever shifting stars, crown of aurora borealis playing off the eternal ice, all upon a youngling that seems forever floating... frozen in time. By death.

Was it sacrifice? Natural? Is it just a shape the spirit takes? IS he a youngling?

They both can and can not feel him.

Both can and can not SEE him.

He is so young....

A child king, hsmiles with such shared grief, when they look upon that too large crown, upon a head that should never have been forced to wear it. Like a child, forced to wear his father's mantle too soon. Is that what happened? Was it something worse? They can not bring themselves to ask.

Not when he is so... so DELIGHTED?

Playing with the younglings. In AWE of each and everyone of them. The things they learned each day. "Who wants to go flying?" "Try to float me!" "I believe in you." Oh, he BASKS in their Light like a desperate thing. Showers them with praise and attention, gentle corrections and undivided attention.

He is empathic. Alive and dead. Fascinated by the stars.

And of course... King™.

No, no, he's not interested in your Senate. Doesn't like um, Doesn't trust um. The vibes are RANCID. But I mean... if you REALLY need an army so bad? Since it seems you guys are pushing yourself WAY outside of your normal duties? Like, he doesn't know, uhhh farmers burning crops to prevent starvation? Something like that.

Just? Since you hate it? But are worried people will die? Or those Clone guys (Sweet! Clones! Ellie is gonna be HYPED.) Are gonna die? He could, you know... fix that for you?

JUST you.

We're gonna have to get it in writing. And they won't do anything BUT stop the robots and help people. They don't actually answer to you. Soooo.....?

.......are you offering us an army? (Yeah. An endless skeleton army. Lead by the greatest Generals to have ever died.).....(they get bored.)

And SUDDENLY? Oh look! The Galactic suffering levels? Just fucking DROPPED. All those SENTIENT Clone soldiers! Dying in vain, in agony, ALONE? Not happening! Skeletons can get blasted apart, fade, reassemble, and march RIGHT BACK OUT! This is GREAT fun!

And even better? Unlike with Pariah? THIS time they march? King PHANTOM is sending them to HELP people! Woooooo! Destroy metal crunchy things! Help clean up rubble! Build a house! Rescue trapped people from rubble! Tireless effort! Honor and service! Thanks for the FREE METAL! *rips apart your robots*

There are no anti-ecto technologies here! The BEST they have is Force users! Which? Ha ha ha! GOOD LUCK. That's what? One? TWO? Of you?? To HOW MANY of us??? *cackles in bone army*

And! If they happen upon OTHER things they don't like? Whoop! Should'a thought of that! Before being a DICK! King Phantom says slavery is ILLEGAL. And we, the FORMER slave army of King Pariah, have Millennium Long ISSUES with that! (Easy to remove that chip, when you can reach THROUGH a person. Here you Slaver FUCK. YOU have it! In fact! Have ALL of them. From each and every slave.)

Anikin LOVES his new Bone friends. They are WONDERFUL. Him n them? Bonded. He's made them all speech boards. They're plotting the gruesome end of the Hutt cartel together. He's showing them the holo of his wedding. They're making Super Advanced Chip scan-.....

W....Why is his scanner going off? There should be nothing near by for it to recognize. The only thing HERE is him, his Bone Buddies, and Rex for supervision.... *mounting horror as he slowly waves the device around* *beep*

R-Rex?

...

......

The Clones? De-chipped in like... two days. There are too many skeletons to NOT have them be able to just? *reach in, feel for the Non-Clone bit, grab it, pull out* didn't even need surgery! But boy, oh, boy! Is Anikin upset. That sure is a Slave chip! Hey, Kamino! Have a Chosen One and his Bones Bros! Some Clones in orbit with Real Big Guns.

And Palatine? Is? PISSED.

His whole ass Empire is dissolving in his hands. The Sith Master Plan! Going up in smoke! Walls are closing in! All because of ONE(1) glowing BRAT.

Wanna bet he goes after him... with LIGHTNING? In human form, of course. Danny. Who DIED to electricity. Who has, throughout ALL of this? Been chilling in the Jedi temple, finally... FINALLY! Unwinding. Putting down the stress on his shoulders. Healing from his childhood. Cuddling cute babies and laying on the grass to nap, listen to the waterfall. Be at PEACE, surrounded by the Light of the Jedi.

Danny, who has been making friends. Enjoying the archives. For once in his stressful, STRESSFUL life? Letting OTHER PEOPLE deal with it. Playing with alien puppies and weird not-cats. Trying new foods! Seeing about adopting some droids that Tucker might get on with. Sorry "buying" some droids. (As though those Restraining Bolts aren't coming off the SECOND they droids are in his hands.)

It's been cool. Relaxing. Great for his mental health.

They have folks LITERALLY called Mind Healers here! Jazz would love it!

So obviously Sith face ruins it. Hurts his friends and blasts him with LIGHTNING. The kids are crying and terrified. This was supposed to be some sort of "learn about how the Republic works" day trip to the Senate! He was helping chaperone. They are being so, SO brave. Staying together. Trying to get their teacher out of harms ways.

He? Is? PISSED.

How DARE you. How FUCKING DARE YOU?! A fight between adults? Not his Reality, not his business. Clockwork drilled that into his head. He CAN'T keep the Multiverse together. Fight every fight for everyone, save everything. People have free will. Have to decide for THEMSELVES. Choose to do the right thing.

It doesn't mean SHIT if they don't save themselves. Wont last, in the end, because they won't have LEARNED a damn thing. He GETS that! But KIDS?! Ooooh ho ho! He DRAWS THE LINE AT KIDS! At shocking the SHIT out of him with LIGHTNING!

You want to poke the sleeping titan 'til it wakes up?

Well congrats!

YOU HAVE HIS ATTENTION NOW!

*inhale*

*Wail*

Palpatine goes through the HOLE where about fifteen walls USED to be. Half of Coruscant physically hears it and EVERYONE with even a TOUCH of Force sensitivity FEELS it. Across the entire planet and up into orbit.

Dying screams and the crackle of electricity. Regret. Fear. The desperate need to protect, in your final moment. Pain and pressure, the cool slide of Death come to take it all away. You were just fourteen. You were just fourteen! You died screaming, you came back screaming, in the place between... will you ever stop screaming?

You are the Galaxy, the Cosmos, the INFINITE. You are just a child.

How many souls died screaming?

Can't you hear ALL OF THEM?

Pissed or not, kids come first. Fuuuuuck that guy. Danny picks up the teacher, the kids, and back to the Temple they go. Teacher survives. Kids cling. Senate gets itself into a snit over the "unprovoked attack". But the thing is? A whole CLASS of Baby Jedi say the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Look too spooked to be lying. Their teacher, too WOUNDED for this to be a prank.

The Jedi close rank.

Palpatine tries to use the Clones.

You know... the De-chipped by their Bone Bros Clones.

Commander Fox? Gets to finally, FINALLY(!!!) live out his long time fantasy... of shooting the fucker. Slug thrower. Tragically, fails to kill him. But the attempt WAS enthusiastic! We applaud his attempt. Commander Fox gets to join Danny in the Gardens, under a Crechelings pile, staring at the stain glass ceiling and Not Thinking Or Having Responsibilities.

Huh.... kid's right. This IS nice.

Fox enjoys being a climb-able lump for the Crechelings. Welcome to the club, my dude.

The other Jedi? THEY can figure it out. The Temple is literally unassailable. If needs be, his army can PICK IT UP AND MOVE IT. Danny is Vibin. Have a fruit. You hear about Skywalker? Making pretty good ground on his whole "one man and massive bone army campaign against Slavery" thing. Missed the whole.... his buddy was an asshole reveal. Apparently reception is spotty. *shrugs*

His wife's nice though! *various married Jedi agree, Obi-Wan continues to sulk because: "REALLY?! You didn't even INVITE ME!? My own Padawan! To his WEDDING! Anikin how COULD YO-!?"*

#minji's writing #long post #dpxsw #star wars #danny fenton #why clones when we could use bones?#jedi's bone army au

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you-need-not-apply · 1 year ago

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I’m sad for those in the whole ocean gate situation, no one deserves to die like that and my heart goes out to their families. One thing goes wrong and it’s death down there.

That being said the fucking submarine is the stupidest thing I’ve seen since musk brought Twitter and made a poll asking if he should step down from CEO

#tumblr #twitter #glass onion #elongated muskrat #Elon musk #ocean gate #oceangate #ocean gate situation #titanic

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fandomsandfeminism · 1 year ago

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So we have now surpassed the 96 hour "best case scenario" amount of oxygen point (if they had been alive and didnt just implode, they arent alive anymore), and I just keep thinking everything about this story, and really the story ABOUT the story, is fascinating.

Like, the situation itself has that incredible blend of tragedy voyeurism and schadenfreude that adds a level of absurdity. (The Logitech controller, the camping world lights, the fact that they probably didn't have their shoes). The way this story touches on issues of deregulation and tragedy tourism and billionaire hubris and a condemnation of wreckless start up mindsets. How much money has been spent looking for them, how much the tickets cost - the extreme absurdity of all of it.

But also the WAY this story has been covered. I keep seeing this compared to the horrific disaster in the Mediterranean this week which killed over 500 refugees and the disparity in the coverage and interest. And yeah, I think the issue is that the disaster in the Mediterranean is transparently horrific- it is a terrible tragedy, the result of systemic and complex geopolitical issues that are complex. So many people, and the weight of that is just so big. It's not funny. It's just awful.

The Ocean Gate Titan thing? It's a simple narrative that was obviously avoidable. It feels like a movie with REALLY obvious themes. It's been covered like a movie. It's been dragged out and every single possible update, the viral video of the tour of the sub, the possible noises detected by sonar, the whole side story about the billionaire step son going to the Blink 182 concert- the cast is so small and the level of abstraction away from normal people and their lives? Makes it feel completely unreal and so it can be consumed like the newest HBO miniseries.

Even now, we are getting updates on how they could stretch the oxygen out longer- like a fan theory prediction of the next episode. Like a headcanon for the season finale. (Oh God, do you think AO3 has fics yet?) Tiktokers making videos about plot holes (why not attach a tether to it?). Discourse over whether it's problematic to say one thing or another about it.

It reminds me of how it felt when the Ever Given got stuck in the Suez Canal, but with the added "oh my god, the OCEAN ate the rich" and Logitech Playstation controller jokes.

I'd put money on implosion. These men have been dead since Sunday. It's likely that we won't actually know for a long time though, if ever. But the way this story was covered is worth contemplating.

#the titan #titanic submarine #but also the wreck of the titanic is a grave we should leave it be

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sj-ficrecs · 4 days ago

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fic rec 16!

SO! i haven’t been reading fic in a long time bc i’ve been reading books BUT, discovered this fic rec in my drafts from 2022 lol oops!

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :)

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE! // Q & A

Bucky x reader:

A Correspondence of Obligations by @pellucid-constellations prince!Bucky x princess!reader

“ Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.”

Sky Full of Song by @wkemeup pirate!Bucky x pirate/siren!reader

“Despite the bitter resentment of the crew, you found a home on Captain Barnes’ ship; on the ocean where you belonged, at the side of a captain you swore loyalty and heart to. But when course is plotted for a legendary island, the secret that has kept you alive for years is threatened to be revealed.”

Starting Gate by @navybrat817 motocross!Bucky x reader

“You attract the attention of your coworker's friend who just happens to be a handsome racer who plays for keeps.”

Oath by @softlybarnes (part of the Sugar series but can be reader alone) 40s Bucky x reader

“Bucky finally proposes to Y/N.”

Awake My Soul by @foreverindreamlandd Bucky x reader (Zombie apocalypse au)

“It’s been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you’ve learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He’s been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren’t telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you’re put at risk, he’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe.”

No Such Thing by @sanguineterrain college athlete!Bucky x reader

“You’ve been assigned to write a column for your school paper on the team’s spectacular running back. You don’t care very much for your university’s football team; you just can’t understand the hype, okay? Turns out your distaste for football bigheads was exactly on point: James Barnes is insufferable.”

Appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy Bucky x reader

“bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.”

Recipe for Disaster by @seventven dad’s best friend!Bucky x reader

“your dad’s best friend bucky knows you have a crush on him. your parents invite him to join your family for the annual winter vacation”

In the Embers by @foreverindreamlandd Firefighter!Bucky x Fem!Plus Size!Adopted Rogers!Reader

“Bucky Barnes. The boy next door. Your brother’s best friend. The guy you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember. Unrequited, that is, seeing that he only thinks of you as a sister (at least, that’s what you always thought). It’s been about a decade since you’ve returned home and reunited with the boy - now man - with stunning blue eyes and a smile that still puts a million butterflies in your stomach. You never expected to come back, thinking that you’d spend the rest of your life as a famous artist in Los Angeles with your boyfriend/manager. But things change, life gets messy, and now you’re back in your childhood bedroom living with your mom and working at the townie bar to make ends meet while you try to figure out what the hell to do next. The one thing that hasn’t changed? Bucky Barnes is still the boy next door, and there’s no running from him this time.”

Love in Four Acts by @chouettedubois neighbor MCU Bucky x nurse!reader

“You’re a nurse living in Brooklyn. You’ve got a crush on your next door neighbour who doesn’t seem to know you exist. One day his cat finds its way into your apartment, forcing you both to finally meet. That’s when you learn that he’s James Buchanan Barnes, ex-Winter Soldier. Well, there goes your chances. Or maybe getting close to a superhero isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.”

Plaything part one + two by @captain-buckyyy virgin!Bucky x reader

“bucky’s innocence is just too much for you to resist”

calamitous love series by @classylo princess!reader x commoner!bucky

“Reader is a modern princess under immense pressure to marry before she takes the crown, she choose her Prince Charming four years ago… but he didn’t choose her back. He left her with a broken heart and her kingdom to rule alone. Four years later, reader is in an arranged engagement with a man who she can see herself loving… one day… everything seems to be falling into place until her original prince shows up at her engagement party determined to win her back before her wedding day.”

Not Even a Little by @intrepidacious roommate!Bucky x reader, modern au

“The problem of living with Bucky is that he makes it impossible not to fall in love with him. Even though you could list several hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea. And you have.”

Followed You by @cwbucky Bucky x reader

“You meet this guy named Bucky through Instagram. Even though neither of you knows what the other person looks like, you two immediately connect. Things get complicated when you start your new job at Stark Industries and you catch a glimpse of the handsome Sergeant Barnes.”

Matched by @nony-bear Alpha!Bucky x omega!reader

“Bucky Barnes always dreamed of settling down with a mate but after decades of trauma leaving him a grumpy old man with a robotic arm he’s convinced no one could love an alpha like him. Begrudgingly he follows his therapist advice and enrolls in the Swan Program a mate matching program offered but the new aged bio-tech company Mate-Tech”

Body Talk by @boxofbonesfic trainer!Bucky x plus size!reader

“You’re determined to come out of this breakup a better you, but Bucky likes the you you are.”

King in Your Story by @sinner-as-saint viking!Bucky x princess!reader

“Everyone in your father’s Kingdom knows that the Vikings often raid the castle’s warehouses. They take anything they want. Food, gold, weapons. Although they never seem to hurt your subjects. But you had had enough. Given your training, and your need to defend your Kingdom, your father agrees to let you trap the Vikings and bring them in for negotiation because this habit of theirs needs to be stopped. You hated the Vikings, and you thought you always would. Until the moment you met a pair of blue eyes which made your world stand still. Bucky was the Chief of his people; muscular, rough and tumble, and arrogant. Not to mention a shameless flirt, and he got on your nerves the most. But you knew it from the very day you laid eyes on his very handsome face that no matter how hard you tried, some part of you couldn’t fully hate him, nor resist him - even if he was the rival.”

Oh Baby, Oh Baby by @tooearlyforthis Bucky x reader

“As a new recruit, y/n isn’t allowed to go on all the missions yet. To make matters worse, they left behind another, someone that she had despised ever since she first stepped foot in the compound - James Buchanan Barnes.”

Before You by @m4tthewmurd0ck prince!Bucky x baker!reader

reader is a baker who happens to work at a shop the royals enjoy getting baked goods from :)

Steve Rogers x reader:

Rising Tide by @pellucid-constellations surfer!Steve x reader

“A relationship built up from the ocean floor, you and Steve had lifetime worth of memories—most best friends did. But things were beginning to change, unspoken feelings creating a rift that cast a shadow over the bond you called home. Unfortunately for you, rip currents are often hardest to spot in the dark”

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gtsdreamer2 · 9 months ago

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Beach Gate

April 12th. The day they told everyone to stay out of the water. It was all over the news for weeks. They were releasing a small amount of radiation waste into the ocean. Scientists ran hundreds of simulations about how the water would be safe just one day after the release. Something about dispersement and currents. What they hadn't calculated were the hungry organisms in the water that would feed on the radiation and mutate.

Sebast was relaxing in his chair on the beach. He was on holiday and figured a lazy afternoon at the beach would be the best use for the beautiful day that it was. The beach was moderately crowded, but it was a school day, so it was mostly adults relaxing and enjoyimg the water. Sebast was reading the daily paper, but couldn't help but steal glances at all of the beautiful bikini-clad women that he was fortunate to be surrounded by on this clear, sunny day. He started to dose off while reading the article about a strange algal bloom that scientists were only just starting to study. As he slept, the water all along the shore suddenly began to glow a dark purple as the irradiated algae began to flood in. Woman and men alike were quickly covered in the bloom. As the beach goers exited the shimmering sea, two things became apparent. Firstly, the algae seemed to slip and slide off the men and children before receding back into the ocean. Secondly, the purple globs seemed to congregate and cover only the women, sticking to them and binding to their skin. At first they tried their best to remove the unwelcome algae, but as the masses of purple microfauna began to completely coat the women, their demeanor quickly changed from panic to pleasure.

Sebast awoke, startled as the screams turned to moans around him. Looking to the woman closest to him, he could only watch in fascination as she spasmed on the ground. Mashing her hands over her body, she forcefully massaged the purple goop against her skin. Slowly the algae was being absorbed into her and the irradiated creatures caused her body to swell and grow, which only seemed to fuel her pleasure.

"Fuck, this feels amazing!" She cried out, quickly breaking free of her inadequate clothing. All around him similar situations were playing out. The women began to surge in size at varying paces depending on how much algae they had been in contact with. Some women quickly realized this and ran back into the ocean, scooping up massive handfuls of the creatures and lathering them onto themselves. As the women on the beach began to only break the ten foot mark, those in the sea were quickly doubling and tripling that as their increased volume gave the algae more space to bind to.

Sebast watched as a hierarchy quickly formed. The massive women in the ocean were now big enough to block the much smaller women from growing any larger. This led to the woman that was closest to him coming up to him with a children's pail. She towered above him while she batted her long lashes. "Um, could you take this into the water and bring me more of that purple stuff? I want to be bigger and I promise I'll give you a big reward!" She pressed her chest together as she stuck out both her arms to hand Sebast the pail. He eagerly took it and waited for an opportunity. As one of the monstrously large women in the water started fighting over resources with another one, he made a dash for the shoreline, quickly scooping up a bucket's worth of algae. One of the titanesses watched playfully as Sebast delivered the pail. The woman eagerly dumped it over herself and rubbed it into her skin, quickly gaining a meager two feet in height. "I'll never catch up to those goddesses at this rate. Thanks anyway sweetie." She said, kissing him on the cheek.

The biggest of the sea queens laughed at the mini-giantess's attempt to gain some size. "That was pathetic." She taunted. "Watch and learn." The tide was forced outward as the kaiju sized woman lowered herself into the sea, leaving only her nose above the waterline. Suddenly she opened her mouth and sucked in hundreds of gallons of seawater and all the algae with it. Great volumes of purple water filled her cheeks as she gained another hundred feet in only a few moments. She moaned through her closed mouth, careful not to lose any growth fuel until it had all been absorbed into her. When her growth finally slowed, she sprayed clear water at all the onlookers that were now even further dwarfed by her.

"What a rush!" She boomed, her voice resonating for miles against the tiny eardrums it came across. At her new size, she had no trouble throwing the closest women to her size out onto the beach. "This is all mine!" She roared, throwing her arms out and scooping miles of purple onto her skin, which rose above the water higher and higher. She groped her massive chest and rubbed herself all over in a display of pure carnal dominance. Sebast just watched in awe as the women that were still much larger than him cowered before this ascending goddess. He turned to the one who he had helped grow and grabbed her hand. "Let's get out of here before she crushes us all!" He said, showing her another pail full of algae. She giggled before lifting him up and scurrying off somewhere safer.

#gts #giantess #size kink #sizetumblr #macro #size difference #minigiantess #mega giantess #growth #g/t writing #follower request

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chuuyaswifeandhoe · 8 months ago

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If this was heaven

Pairing: Chuuya x femreader

Warnings: pure fluff

A/N: I don't have any energy to write the last part of my angst series so I'm emptying my drafts. Please enjoy this fluff I wrote sometime ago for someone special to me. It will take a very long while until I get back into writing, so please be patient.

Chuuya was exhausted. Today was hell, a mission, then paperworks, then again another mission. The only thing he wanted was to melt away on the sofa at home, with a glass of wine in front of him. But he was so tired that he only made it to the sofa and left his head on the headrest, eyes closed. He did not even know where you were. You did not greet him at the entrance as you usually do. He missed your kind smile and how you would tackle him down into a hug. He was so tired that he didn’t even have the force to call your name to see if you’re home. He sighed, if he had the option he would abandon the Mafia in an instant and run away with you. He wanted slow mornings in which he can cuddle with you, kiss away the sleep from your eyes, and just be with you for as long as he wanted too.

Chuuya was so caught up in daydreaming to a better situation for the both of you that he did not hear your little tip-toes. You were in his office, reading something for your work and just had the vague impression he came home. Founding Chuuya sprawled out on the sofa like a puppy, warmed your heart. He was probably exhausted, so you thought you should spoil him a little.

You gently touched his knees to make him aware of your presence and don’t startle him.

“ Hi, my handsome boy.” you smiled, towering over him.

He lazily raised his head up and opened his beautiful blue orbs. “Hi, my love.” Chuuya then extended one hand gently tugging you to come and sit over him, and you obliged, smiling.

You grabbed his face gently with your warm hands, stroking his cheeks. That was enough to make your boy melt.

"Tough day darling?” You smiled while looking in those ocean eyes. You could drown in them over and over again.

“You have no idea” he closed back his eyelids and turned his face to kiss the palm of your hand.

It was moments like this that kept Chuuya sane. Having you care for him almost washed away the stress accumulated through the day. Your sweet giggles were music to his ears.

“Then I might have an idea to make you forget about this ugly day. Do you trust me, my angel?” Your fingers turned his face back to face you. He let out a laugh, the pet name was definitely not the one suitable for his person, but he couldn't deny you anything in this world. Not even if you'd ask him for the sun.

“I'm all yours, doll.” he crooked a tired smile at you, closing his eyes, letting you take the lead. Your heart swole at this sight. His pretty face was at your mercy. So you started kissing every inch of it, starting with his eyelids, whispering him sweet words

“I love you”. Then you kissed the other one. “You're such an amazing boyfriend”. Then got to plaster lots of kisses on his nose “you're so handsome”, moved to the space between his eyebrows “you're my sweet boy”. Your lips left praises and kisses all over his beautiful face. His forehead was next, going down on his cheeks then his jaw, his chin then hovering over his lips. “Enjoying it, Chuu?”

Chuuya felt like he touched the gates of heaven. His cheeks were dusted pink , from being overwhelmed by the sweetness of your actions. God, how much he loved you. You had the power to take away all his worries, all the stress from every cell in his body. He felt spoiled with affection and he cherished every moment like this that you were offering him.

“You forgot one spot” he whispered, barely opening one eye. He saw your content grin before you smashed your lips on his. He put his hand on the sides of your head and kissed you like it was his last day on earth. His heart could burst out at any moment from the warmth you spread inside his body. He felt he reached the skies and was granted to enter the land of the innocents.

If this was heaven, Chuuya would do anything to rest here and never have to get back to his daily hell. If this was heaven, he'd gladly be dead and have an angel like you pampering him in kisses. If this was heaven, he was a sinner who received the mercy of the gods, kissed by a star who was casting away his sins even just for one evening.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x you #bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya fluff #chuuyaswifeandhoe #chuuyaswife #sweetness #bungou stray dogs chuuya

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daes0 · 3 months ago

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Merfolk prince Rafayel meets a human artist and falls in love. If only things could remain so simple.

Pairing: {Rafayel x Reader]

Rating: {18+ with some monsterfucking}

Word Count: {9.4k words]

Perhaps it was destiny, a predetermined fate that was already written by the stars. The universe had decided that Rafayel is to be loved, and it was never anyone's choice or intention. They simply loved, without control and without respite. Such was the merfolk's fate, to love until the day of their death.

once more to see you

Rafayel was always loved.

Rafayel was always loved. But what is "love" without love? What is love when it is control?

His happiness would bring about peace. His sadness, or worse, his anger brought distress. Rafayel was an idol to the merfolk, to the ocean. It was always meant to be.

Why, then, did it feel so awfully violent?

"Young sir, I don't understand why you must do this," said Ethan with an exasperated breath. He's a servant to the merfolk's royals, but right now acts as the personal caretaker of a twelve-year-old Rafayel.

Currently, he was going after Rafayel as the young prince swam in vain towards the edges of Lemuria.

"Leave me alone, why doesn't anyone ever let me be alone-"

The servant finally managed to catch up to the speedy little prince, catching him by the tail and lifting him up with a gentle grip. Rafayel dangles, fighting and bashing his tail around uselessly. After a few seconds of futility, Rafayel huffs.

"I'm a prince, you can't treat me like this!" little Rafayel barked and yapped.

"Do you promise to not fight me anymore?"

Rafayel huffed again.

"Young sir-" Ethan tried.

"Just put me down," Rafayel sighed, an embarrassed flush on his face both from the futile effort and from being treated like a petulant child. Which, no matter how you approached the situation, he was definitely being one.

The servant let him down, grabbing at Rafayel's wrist and pulling him back towards the castle's gates. "Why must you insist on defying the court? They have nothing but love for you."

"Love?" Rafayel almost growled in his angst. "They don't know anything about love."

"And a twelve-year-old does?" the servant laughs.

"I know enough to know it's not love," Rafayel counters back. "They love me," he does air-quotes on the word, "But no one even likes me."

Ethan thinks to himself that this phase will subside and Rafayel will come to appreciate the affection he is shown by the royal court. "You are loved, Rafayel. The court loves you. The people love you. The ocean absolutely loves you."

Rafayel rolls his eyes and says nothing, pulls on his wrist but gives up on trying to escape his caretaker's grip.

"The ocean would give everything for you," the servant continues to lecture. "You are loved by our holy god, the ocean. Does the devotion of a god not suffice to you?"

"You don't understand," Rafayel mumbles. "No one does. No one likes me."

"But they all love you," the servant tries.

"But they don't like me." Rafayel repeats. "They don't even know me."

The gates finally come up, and the servant signals to a guard to open the entryway so they may come in. Once they're inside, Ethan lets Rafayel go and stares at him pointedly.

"The ocean likes you," the servant says, like a mantra, like it's part of a prayer that Rafayel has forgotten. "The ocean knows you."

Rafayel ignores him. His eyes prickle with heat as he swims, the feeling of tears forming only increasing his frustration. Why can't he just be understood?

The ocean did not, could not remember a time before Rafayel. It seemed to bend at his every whim, lurch at his every move, love over his kind demeanor and gentle nature. The ocean loves him. And in turn, Rafayel loved it.

Perhaps that's why the merfolk were confused, then, when the ocean grew dark.

Rafayel had loved the ocean, that much was true. He loved it like he was meant to, like he was made to. This was fine, this was how things were meant to be. Except Rafayel was not convinced that the ocean actually loved him. It was never a true love, you see. A true love would allow him to grow, to change and to thrive. A true love would not spoil him like a child that was perpetually young. A true love wouldn’t hurt. Right? Surely it wouldn’t?

"Is that the little prince?" a civilian whispered to another, surprised to see Rafayel out of the castle without a servant.

Rafayel just swam, trying to seem like this is just another normal day and not drag more attention to himself. It was pretty difficult though, as he's wearing a black cloak with purple outlininings- a piece clearly made for royalty and for someone who's more than a little suspicious.

Him being out and about had become more of a common experience now. Rafayel was older, having matured to an adult and finally being allowed to come and go from the castle as he pleased without a servant tailing him everywhere.

…except there's definitely a few guards still following him.

Rafayel looks behind his shoulder in a quick glance, and to his own surprise he realizes that he managed to lose the last castle guard. Not trusting the situation quite yet, he dodges down an alley and into the bustling street of a night market.

And of course, when Rafayel looks over to where he just was, a castle guard is frantically searching around.

That took so long, he thinks to himself, Gods, I'm tired now.

"Is your name Rafayel?"

Rafayel turns his head, surprised that a civilian is confronting him. He doesn't see anyone at first, then looks down and sees a young child that couldn't be more than eight years old.

"Did anyone ever tell you not to talk to strangers?" Rafayel snarks, but swims closer to the ground to be eye-level with the kid.

"But you're the prince, right? You're a good person!" the kid explains.

Rafayel chuckles. "Sure I am. Where's your parents?"

"Mommy is getting something right now," the kid says, looking towards one of the kiosks. "What about your mommy?"

Rafayel is taken aback by the kid's question. Perhaps he's just too young to know. "I don't have a mother. The ocean is my parent."

"How does that work?" the kid asks, clearly confused.

"You'll understand when you're older?" Rafayel tries.

The kid nods, but isn't fully convinced. "Does that mean you weren't born? You've always been an adult?"

Rafayel looks over the alleyway he came from and sees a few guards coming closer. He turns back to the kid, stuck between running to keep swimming versus staying here and making sure the kid reunites with his mom. Making a quick decision that absolutely annoys him, Rafayel turns to the kid. "No, I was born one day and grew up just like you. The royal court raised me."

"All those people?!" the kid exclaims, suddenly excited. "That's like having ten mommies!"

"That's enough," his mom says, frustrated but clearly relieved that her kid didn't go too far. "I'm so sorry, sir."

Rafayel straightens up. "Completely fine," he reassures her.

The kid and his mother begin walking away. While they're leaving, Rafayel hears the kid ask, "Why is it so dark these days?"

Rafayel feels a sense of guilt, knowing that his actions have such a present impact on his people's lives. Despite this, he still yearns to escape destiny, to make a mark that is his own.

Once the two are gone, Rafayel sighs, back to his earlier predicament. The guards are no longer hiding, instead waiting by the wayside for his next move. Rafayel, deciding it's been a busy enough day as it is, finally relents.

Rafayel was 24 when he finally reached the outskirts of Lemuria, always interrupted by happenstance, always the ocean's doing. But finally, after so long trying, the ocean had relented and allowed him to leave Lemuria. He had reached for this distance for so long, the furthest away from what was supposed to be his home. Further and further into the ocean, and closer and closer to the edge. Too far, too close to leaving the depths of the ocean.

Closer to the beaches. Closer to the humans.

The ocean allowed it. Of course it did, it had no reason to think that Rafayel would actually leave. He's a merfolk afterall, and a prince on top of that. This was just a childlike curiosity. Something to change from, something to one day forget. Though the ocean darkened in its greed, wanting the prince's attention all to itself, it let Rafayel have his useless little wants. The ocean knows where Rafayel's heart is, and it trusted that instinct.

Or it did, anyway. And it let him slip a little too far away from its grasp.

If Rafayel were to think back on this moment, he would’ve felt some level of regret. Things were so much simpler before his rebellion. But still, he would do the same. He would do the same.

Over the endless line of the beach, on top of such white sand with a heat so intense that it almost felt like glass, was a human like no other.

It was you.

Or, well, a version of you. A version that lived on a beach house and was an artist, who spent your days searching for a muse to be inspired by. A version of you that hasn’t met Rafayel yet.

You were perched on your window, watching as the lazy waves slowly receded from the shore.

And Rafayel, poor little Rafayel. His heart didn’t stand a chance.

"Grandma, I'm doing fine," you spoke to your phone. "I really appreciate all your help, but I still don't know if I want to sell this place."

"But you can use the money to pay for art school," your grandma counters. "I know I wasn't for it before, but I want you to follow your dreams."

You sigh. "I- I don't know, grandma. I'm not sure if art is what I want to do with my life. And either way, I don't think I can go back to college."

Your grandma sighs. "I know you had a hard time before, but time has passed. You've grown, you're more confident now, you're-"

"Confident?" you repeat, an incredulous look in your face. You shake your head, "Grandma, just give me more time to decide. I just- I need more time to make a decision. I know you gave me the beach house so I can use it for art school, but I have so many memories here. I need time to- to come to terms with it. With you leaving to a home, with this place maybe going away. With, with life changing."

Your grandma is quiet for a moment. "You always hated change. What did I always tell you?"

You say it in tandem with your grandma, "Change means that you're growing. I know, I just still need time."

Your grandma finally relents. "Fine. You know I love you and just want what's best for you."

"I know, grandma," and you mean it. "I love you. I'll come visit soon, okay?"

"Make sure you do, _____. See you soon."

Rafayel had looked up, gazing with a doe-eyed look upon the human. He repeated your name in a soft voice, marking it to memory.

He had only caught the end of your conversation, realizing that he had swam so close to land that he was near humans now. Near you, in particular.

His companions, however, seemed unimpressed. “A human,” the fish surrounding him had basically spat out. “_____ cannot love you. _____ can never love you. Not like the ocean. Not like Lemurians.”

Rafayel’s frustration came quick, but he remained quiet. "She will be the first human I meet," he declares.

“Never love you, never!” the fish echoed in a chorus that seemed to crescendo into a screeching, bleeding sound. "Never! Never!"

Rafayel watched as you reached out to touch the water. You had extended your arm out, and maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it was a blinding yearning for the other that had taken hold of Rafayel. But when you extend your arm, the tips of your fingers touching the water, Rafayel could only see it as a destiny outside of destiny. Happenstance, coincidence. That somehow, you knew something outside of the universe, and you wanted to break through the shackles of both of your kinds. It was wishful thinking.

“Never!” the fish yelled out again.

Without a second thought, Rafayel fled from his spot and abandoned the mocking fish.

He was not supposed to come to you. The merfolk were strictly forbidden, at the cost of exile, from interacting with the humans. But this was love, was it not? It meant something. It meant everything to Rafayel. This crime must be forgiven. Surely the ocean would forgive him.

He had expected you to be surprised. Maybe give him a shy smile. Not for you to back up in fear, a string of curses out of your mouth the moment the darkened form of Rafayel had pierced the surface of the water, dropping your phone straight down to his head. It bounces off him and his ears flicker back.

But when you saw him, saw the love in his eyes and the earnest smile on his face… Ha, as if it could be romantic! You could only scream as this strange man suddenly appeared before you.

“What- who the hell are you?!”

Rafayel felt a little hesitant at your reaction. This was not the story of love at first sight that he had imagined.

He tried to say something along the lines of, “My name is Rafayel,” but outside of the water, his voice was ragged and broken.

Lemurians had a rocky relationship with humans, hence why royals were required to learn a human language or two. Rafayel was glad he understood you, but unbeknownst to him, Lemurians need time to adjust to the air and be able to speak within it.

You looked at him for a moment, your panic turning into confusion. “W-what?”

“Rafayel,” he tried again, but he couldn't help but flinch when the sound of his own voice reached his ears.

You had looked back behind you, to the mess of idle drawings and nearly empty sketches. Seemingly deciding something, you turn back to the mysterious creature in front of you. “My name is _____. Are you… a merfolk?”

It was obvious, truly. Your question did not need an answer, what with the fins of Rafayel’s ears, the scales trailing the edges of his face, the gills on his neck. But Rafayel nodded, giving you a smile that he hoped seemed reassuring but revealed the edges of his fangs.

Rafayel spent weeks next to you.

“You're real,” you say slowly as realization and excitement lit up your face. “You're actually real.”

Eventually, you and him worked to move him to the bathtub so you could interact directly. It took a lot of tries and a couple bruises, but eventually Rafayel left the ocean.

Eventually, he wasn't part of the ocean anymore. Didn't live in its flesh, didn't breathe through its blood. Eventually, Rafayel was gone.

For now, the ocean remained quiet.

You two had a hard time communicating. Rafayel relied on gestures and overly expressive body language to talk. But no matter, he understood you, and you tried your hardest in turn to understand him. For some reason, he seemed to understand you quite well, outside of missing the context that comes from living on land. You didn't quite understand why, but you hope that Rafayel would soon be able to communicate more directly.

One time, you had the idea to put your head underwater, but that proved futile. While Rafayel could speak much more clearly this way, it sounded like a bad recording to your ears. Mumbles and syllables lost in the water. So for now, you just had to wait for Rafayel to hopefully be able to speak your language with time and practice.

For now, this version of you was an artist, and Rafayel became your muse. You drew everything about him. His pretty face with its sharp angles and soft skin, his eyes that seemed to be divided in both red and blue, his dark purple hair that was so hard to color just right, the green and blue scales that trailed on the side of his face and sparkled down to his neck like multicolored freckles, his silhouette in and out of the water, the mystery of who he is, the companionship that he had given the lonely artist.

Rafayel became everything. The theme, the musing, the art, the parchment, the water used to clean the paint off the brushes, the paint itself as it hit the canvas. It was overwhelming, but it felt like love.

At some point, the way you looked at him changed.

The first time it happened, neither of you were really prepared.

And Rafayel, always looking at you, always seeing your little habits and gestures that you never thought anything of. He knew. He knew that his feelings weren't only his own.

Rafayel had felt cramped within the confines of the bathtub, so you had gotten a pool and installed it within the living room. It was somehow harder to get Rafayel from the bathtub to the pool, but you managed after an hour or so of trying.

He stretched, taking a deep breath within the spacious water. The muscles of his toned stomach ripple and straighten, his already impressive figure expressed in such a majestic way that you can't help but stare.

You hear him laugh.

"I wasn't looking!" you exclaim.

He laughs more, but then extends his hand towards you. You take it and he helps you into the pool and over the metal. You're too surprised by his merfolk strength, or maybe he pulled a little too hard, because you manage to slip and fall on top of him.

You two fall further in the water, submerged. You open your eyes to see Rafayel gazing longingly at you, the bubbles of your breath tickling his skin like glitter. The scales that go up and down his strong arms seem even more brilliant under the water, you realize. Their color glistens in a tricolor shine of green, blue, and purple. His arms surround you, and you feel those scales surround you with their warmth, interrupted only by skin on skin. You like this, you realize. You like Rafayel.

Rafayel helps you up to the air. You're breathless, only one of your desires fulfilled.

And in that moment, you don't think about anything. You simply close your eyes and you kiss him.

His lips part in surprise.

The kiss ends as soon as it started, with your pulling back. A sudden cold fear suddenly fills your senses, but it doesn't last long.

Rafayel's lips shake, temptation and utter want in his eyes.

You make out his mouth forming into the sounds of your name, the soft breath tickling your own as he gets closer. He looks down at your lips, and he looks back up to your eyes.

So you kiss him again.

And you kiss, and you kiss, and you kiss. Your hands trace his pretty face, and you kiss him. His scales against your skin, and you kiss him. His hair falling on you, and you kiss him. Him, him, him, and it feels like infinity.

You feel him, feel his silhouette, the edges between his skin and his scales, the space between his neck and his chin, the softness of his lips and his skin and his everything.

And then you pull back for breath.

Rafayel gazes at you, dipping down to the water to collect himself. You notice momentarily that he needs the water to breathe, and then all of a sudden his mouth is on yours yet again.

His arms are around you, touching, tracing, loving. You feel his fingertips ghost over your sides, and suddenly you're taking off your shirt. He touches you, delighted by your suggestion, and his warm hands fumbles your breasts, his anxiety and excitement fully apparent. Your nipples pebble under his touch, and you gasp when he leans down to take one in his mouth.

His tongue- maybe it's because he's a merfolk, but it's hard and direct as it swipes against you. You make a low noise in the back of your throat, and you realize now that you want more, need more.

In one swift movement, you pull down your bottoms, taking your underwear with it, and Rafayel almost laughs in glee. His hand moves lower, and when he touches the growing heat, you can't help the soft sound that escapes you.

He's gentle against you, careful not to hurt you, but all you feel is the pads of his fingers and he's too soft, too soft, so you grab his hand and push him down against you.

Rafayel smiles, makes a raspy sound of contentment, and suddenly he's under the water again. You gasp when he switches to this position, but you can't help but bring your hand up to cover your mouth when you realize what he's doing.

Rafayel is hesitant at first, kissing at the inside of your thigh with slow kisses, before finally coming to the space in between your legs. His tongue, firm and rough and lovely and so different from what you've felt before, licks across your cunt and tastes and kisses and Rafayel is groaning at how lovely you feel against his tongue and it's almost overwhelming if it weren't so goddamn gentle.

Gentle. Why is he always so damn gentle?

With a fist to your mouth, you move your other hand down to push Rafayel's face further on you, hoping he gets the hint to do more, go faster, harder, to give you so much more.

Rafayel licks against your clit, suckling softly and you shake with pleasure as you can't help but push him down, your hips moving up to meet the swipes of his tongue and the space of his mouth.

He licks you, savors you, and you feel the growing heat slowly reaching a tipping point. Your pleasure explores your body, and you feel it coming before you realize it.

You groan out a warning, but Rafayel just redoubles his efforts, his tongue somehow firmer against you as his movements quicken, and oh, you're suddenly pulling against his hair to stay as the feeling explodes, the energy racking through you everywhere. You're breathless by the end of it as Rafayel licks you through your orgasm, slowing down his ministrations so as to not overwhelm you while still providing the utmost pleasure he can.

Your hands slowly unclench, and Rafayel kisses the inside of your thigh again before coming up, gently lowering your legs so you can stand on your own within the water but keeping a helpful arm around your waist.

He looks at you, a question on his mind, and at your satisfied smile he sighs in happiness as if he was worried that the orgasm he just gave you was somehow terrible.

"More," you tell him.

Rafayel seems surprised at that.

You look down between you, and you realize that right under his stomach is a clear bulge poking out, previously hidden in between his scales but so obvious now.

"Can I?" you question, and realize almost instantly that you probably didn't need to ask but you smile anyway at his immediate permission.

Your hands grab at his dick, tracing the soft skin under the shaft, and you tug him in your hands. One of your hands moves up, and your thumb passes by the tip. Rafayel shudders, and you watch with a certain thrill at his reaction. You move your hand up and down, and feel him grow and harden even more, as if he wasn't already too big for you to handle before. You can't help the excitement within you as you shift, ready to take.

So Rafayel gives. He brings himself closer to you, angling his dick between your legs. At the first touch of your wetness, you both groan. You, because of anticipation of it being inside you already, and him because your wetness already feels like too much.

Finally, Rafayel dips himself inside you, caressing you where you need it the most.

But you want more, need more. So before he's done enjoying the feeling of his yearning finally reaching you, you push yourself down on his member.

He closes his eyes and stills, the pleasure of being inside of you almost too much.

In one fell swoop, you feel him slip fully inside you. The utter emotion that overcomes you feels like electricity. Rafayel groans, and suddenly he's moving, racking back and forth within you, flesh against delicious flesh.

He grunts in pleasure, and suddenly he's going harder, moving faster, pushing and pushing. His dick keeps nudging against that spot that feels so good, and he hears your little sounds when he does so he shifts and hits it more and more and again and again.

Suddenly, you feel a spreading heat within you, but this time it doesn't come from you. You realize that Rafayel is coming, his dick throbbing heat within you, but he only partially slows down. He almost moans, and you love his reaction. He finally slows down to a stop.

You both lower down to the water, letting him breathe. You realize distantly that since he wasn't in the water, he wasn't breathing while he was penetrating you. His orgasm must have come from the excitement of it all.

Your face is just above the water now, while Rafayel leans at an angle. He's still inside of you and you wonder why he hasn't removed himself from inside of you as he's softened somewhat.

But then he's moving again and you're both delighted. Rafayel smiles up to you, and you can't help the joy within you.

Rafayel keeps going, giving you an expression of his emotions towards you, towards the freedom you've given him, and you take it, love it, feel it fill you up, accepting him for who he is rather than for what destiny dictates.

Rafayel realizes then, that this is the first relationship he's had where someone likes him. Actually likes him, adores his touch, dedicates so much paint and ink to capture his aura on all sorts of canvases, likes him for the idea of him and likes him for who he is. And it feels good. Fuck, it feels so good to be liked.

So he pushes himself within you, a not-so-delicate expression of his emotions towards you, and he falls hard in love for you.

When he comes again inside you, he does moan this time, and you find the sound particularly hot. He slows down to a stop, and lowers his head to your shoulder, panting.

You wrap your arms around him, expecting him to be done. It takes a moment, but Rafayel begins moving again. You smile, the movement reinvigorating your own growing heat.

"Wait, I have an idea," you tell him.

Rafayel pauses, and only with a slightly disappointed expression does he let you get off his dick. His engorged member throbs once outside of you, its head red and piercing. You turn around, facing the outer wall of the pool, floating your backside in presentation. Your hands clench around the metal ring of the pool.

"Let's try this position," you say, almost giddy.

Rafayel wastes no time to get back inside of you. You feel him throb as he pushes in and out, back and forth. He can go harder in this position so he absolutely does.

You feel another orgasm coming and can't help but clench against his dick. Rafayel groans, the movement making him bust inside you again. He slows down to a stop, you feeling him pulsate and his feeling the edges of his consciousness through sheer pleasure. Then he's moving again. He keeps fucking you and the movement is exquisite.

He keeps going, and it feels good, so good, so fucking good. He fucks you hard now, dives in you like an animal, desperate for release. You grip against him, chasing your own release. He hits that perfect spot inside you and it makes you groan through the indulgence. Rafayel seems sensitive now, sensitive to the sight of you and the sounds you make, and it feels so good.

He fucks you, dipping himself inside you, feeling the dripping wetness encase his dick in a mutual pleasure that excites both of you to no end.

But there is an end, and you're both rapidly approaching it. Rafayel pushes himself against you in a particularly hard thrust and you come around him, practically quivering and shaking through the strength of your orgasm. Rafayels thrusts again and again and again until he's also coming, spilling more of himself within you, the endless pleasure dulling his senses as for a moment it feels like there's nothing in the world except for the two of you.

It feels good. So fucking good.

While cleaning out a closet, you manage to find an old polaroid camera. It was most likely your grandma's, but you couldn't find any pictures around.

Rafayel made a noise, calling for you.

You walk back to the pool, camera in hand.

"What is it, Raf?" you ask.

In the time he had come to your life, Rafayel had managed to sound out his name until you finally got it. It had been his greatest accomplishment with you, outside of your blossoming affection. It was proof that he would be able to speak to you in the future.

"This? It's a camera. Do you want to take some pictures?"

He points to your hands, curious at the item.

Rafayel stared blankly, trying to communicate through expression alone that he didn't understand.

Suddenly, you hold the camera up and there's a flashing light. Rafayel hisses, ducking within the confines of the pool to escape the awful brightness.

"Sorry!" you apologize, looking at him through the camera. "I should've warned you about the light. But look at this."

You take out the picture, and the image slowly forms into Rafayel's blank face.

Even without being prepared, Rafayel in whatever state is beautiful. You can't help but admire his features caught by the polaroid, his cute surprised look, the color of his eyes, his long purple hair, the defined muscle of his chest and stomach. It's a bit blurry due to him moving from the shock of the light, but if anything it gives the picture character.

Rafayel looks at the picture, surprised at the still image. He points at the mirror on the wall, and you shake your head.

"This is a picture. It's kinda like a memory. You take pictures when you want to remember something that happened."

Rafayel stares intently at the picture, waiting for it to change.

"It won't change," you can't help but laugh. "It's just a moment in time."

Rafayel nods, slowly understanding.

You move the camera away from both of you. "I'm gonna take another picture."

Rafayel is grateful for the warning. He still flinches, but is able to stay still long enough for a non-blurry photo this time.

After playing with the camera for a bit, you hand it over to Rafayel. "You gotta be careful it doesn't hit the water. It'll break the camera if it does."

Rafayel nods, understanding. He holds it up to his face, and after a bit of trial-and-error, he manages to take a picture.

He's spent the entire time he's been with you wishing he could talk, but never has the desperation hit its peak like now as he sits in quiet contemplation while taking pictures of you. He wishes he could communicate all his feelings, paint like you do, write poetry and dedicate all his devotion to you. But instead, all he can do is try to capture you, try to take your essence within a picture. It's not even half of half of how lovely you are, but he tries, hopes his feelings come through.

He lowers the camera, and all you see in his eyes is a love dedicated to your soul.

This time when he kisses you, it's soft. There is no urgency, just a quiet and gentle love. You know it won't last, but for a moment you let yourself believe it will.

You were sitting on a chair next to the pool drawing up new ideas for what to paint while Rafayel watched you.

You sometimes wrote down a myriad of words in a notebook, trying to figure out what secondary theme you could add to your work. Rafayel was very insistent, as best as he could anyway, that you tell him every word you wrote so that he too could understand you. But in that notebook was a word that you skipped over, and Rafayel was curious.

Carefully, he grabbed the pencil with his mouth, holding it in between his lips. It took him a bit, but he eventually got the leaden tip pointing at the word he wished to understand.

He looked up, his pretty eyes sparkling, water droplets clinging to his skin and scales, the pencil careful in his mouth.

You had looked at him for a moment, then looked at the page with worry etched into your brow. You purse your lips together, thinking, and the silence seemed to stretch for ages.

Rafayel didn't understand why you didn't call it love. He wished more than anything to hear the words I love you come out of your mouth, but something is stopping you.

“Love,” you said, finally. “Don't think anything of it,” you add quickly enough, then shut the notebook close. “It's just a theme.”

And yet, the more time you spend together, loving each other's bodies and loving each other's hearts, through pleasure and through simple companionship, the more convinced he is that it doesn't actually matter if you do say it. Perhaps what you have is stronger than words. Perhaps what you have is a feeling that deserves to be felt instead.

There's a lot of obstacles standing in between you two, he concludes. He's a merfolk, for one, and you're a human. There were already so many challenges involved in that. His voice had slowly gotten used to the air, but it still didn't manage to sound right outside of a few syllables. Communication had been so hard because of it, and Rafayel still wasn't used to holding a pen or pencil in between his fingers.

But despite that, it all felt like an obstacle that you two could get over. If only you two were willing to.

The other problem was Rafayel's status as a runaway prince. If he didn't go back it wouldn't matter, but he still couldn't help but be a bit homesick. Despite how lonely he felt within it, he missed the safety of it, the warmth of it. So he wanted to come back, he just didn't know how.

And then there was the ocean.

Its initial peace was running out. With each storm of increased severity, it became more and more of a reminder of the god that missed him. The danger of the storms had more than once caused you distress, as you stayed with Rafayel to make sure he's okay but secretly worried for your safety. And Rafayel knew this about you, knew that lately you had been stressed and trying to paint more and more to distract yourself from the thunder overhead, closed all the blinds so that the flashing lights of lightning didn't seize either of your fears.

Rafayel hates it, but he knows he has to go back. It wouldn't take long before the ocean took revenge.

He couldn't let you get hurt, refused it point-blank, but that meant leaving. It hurt like an unrequited love to leave without hearing you say you love him, but he was running out of time.

He seemed particular this time. He drew the ocean, and a stick figure that looked vaguely like himself. You simply smiled at his antics and went back to your own drawing.

One day, Rafayel had seemed pensive. Hoping you could understand him a bit better, you gave him his own pen and paper. It had been a month since he had first appeared for you, and his rough lines and squiggles had taken enough form to be somewhat legible.

Rafayel seemed frustrated. Then he got the idea of drawing the shape of the beach house, but within the ocean.

"The beach house is gonna flood?" you ask when he shows you his latest drawing, partially concerned and partially confused.

He shakes his head. Rafayel tries to mumble a single word, and you manage to understand it despite the raspy and hoarse voice outside of the water. "Home."

"Oh," you're too late to hide your sadness. "You're going home."

Rafayel nods, and it feels like you're waking up.

Rafayel comes back to the ocean. It is not a warm welcome.

It seemed that Rafayel had left long enough that his influence had waned, and though he was bright and happy, the water surrounding him remained depressing.

“You've abandoned us.”

“I was gone for a month,” Rafayel counters. “That's basically a vacation.”

“For a human,” the fish seemed offended, “Abandoned for a human.”

Rafayel tried to protest, but neither the fish nor the ocean nor himself were very convinced.

“_____ is just a human,” the fish surrounding him had said. “Cannot love you. Can never love you.”

Rafayel stopped himself from shooting a glare at them. “Does it matter? My love is enough,” he defends. “My love can be enough.”

The merfolk no longer wanted their little prince. He was no longer welcome.

The ocean was not convinced.

Exile, the word tasted putrid and rotten. All that love they had dedicated to him for decades, all gone after his absence.

The curse has been broken. This was what he wanted, was it not? To not be loved simply because the ocean dictated it. And yet, he couldn't help hating this. Hating finding out that his greatest fear was true. He really was alone, had been alone for his entire life. The love was never real, just like he had always known.

His grief was first and foremost anger.

But it didn't matter. The ocean that had once bestowed him with power had taken it back. When before his wrath, childish or otherwise, would be felt across the seas, now it is just another wave in the ocean.

It was clear now.

Rafayel had been abandoned. And Rafayel hated it, hated that such a selfish love controlled his entire life and when he found the curiosity to venture outside of it, the ocean had become vengeful against him.

The ocean was his first love, and what a cruel and conniving one it was.

The ocean decided to make a deal with the prince. If he never met the human again, you could live. But if he continued to visit you and you ever got too close to the water, the waves would drown you. The ocean found it a wonderful agreement.

Oh, how hard it is to love simply because destiny dictated it so.

Rafayel could get his powers back, could come back to his community with the merfolk, in Lemuria, could have the love that he had previously been given at the cost of his freedom. If only Rafayel could accept his fate and come back to his true lover's embrace.

Rafayel, of course, refused.

And Rafayel may have been a naive little prince, but he had grown more in the month he spent on the outskirts of the ocean than he had been inside of it.

He knew that the only way to win this impossible deal was to outsmart the ocean somehow.

“You wish a human could breathe underwater?” the witch had asked of him.

And so, he visited a witch.

Rafayel nodded. “It's the only way I can think of. The ocean can't drown a human if they could breathe it in.” And perhaps being a bit cheeky, he compliments his plan and says, “It's a perfect idea, isn't it?”

“Hmm.” The witch was deep in thought, opening up book after book and flipping through pages, searching for a way to accomplish Rafayel's request.

“It's impossible!” a red fish said, one of the witch's aides.

“Humans can't breathe underwater,” a blue fish added, the second of the witch's aides.

Rafayel's confidence wavered, but he remained sure that if anyone could help him, it would be the witch.

“Perhaps there is a way,” the witch says after a long pause.

Before she could continue, Rafayel exclaimed, “Yes, anything! Please, I can't let _____ die!”

The witch found this peculiar. “Hm? But you told me your dilemma, and there is a way, is there not? You could go back to the ocean's embrace.”

Rafayel seemed to shrink at the thought. “I can't go back knowing what real love feels like. The ocean treats me like a toy. I can't go back knowing that love is gentle when it is real.”

True to her word, the witch switched places with Rafayel's beloved.

The witch nodded in understanding. “Then I propose this. I wish to leave my life as a witch, but to do so my powers will have to go to another. If I can take the place of your beloved, I can leave this magic. If done right, _____ will be a witch. The ocean will not hurt your beloved then.”

This version of you was a witch. This version of you did not remember Rafayel.

“Cursed witch!” he yelled out, swimming rapidly in his anger and kicking a few books off a shelf in the witch's home.

“Hey, please be careful!” you yelled back, promptly shooing him away. “I don't know why you're so upset but don't make a mess of my home!”

Rafayel calmed down enough to grab your arm. “Your name!” he gulped in a breath, his anger receding. “What's your name?”

“_____,” you replied, confused.

“Okay,” Rafayel said, mostly to himself. “It's okay! We can just start again.”

You just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

He told you everything. Told you that you were a human before and you love art, love painting and drawing and sketching and watercolors and all sorts of art that he didn't know even existed nor can they be possible in the water without enchanted materials. He tells you that he was your muse, that you loved drawing his details and outlining everything about him.

“My name- my name is Rafayel,” he says with a huge smile, trying to pretend that his previous outburst is nothing. “And you're _____.”

He tells you that you were in love, or at least, he thinks you were also in love with him. He tells you about the notebook and all the words and themes, and how secretive you had been over the word love. He tells you about how he'd thought it was because you were two different creatures and could not be together, but that he had figured it out.

He tells you about the ocean's ultimatum, about the cold welcome back, about how he lost his powers but he wanted love, true and real love, over power. How he had longed for it all his life, without really realizing it, and how he knew now that he could never live without it.

And you ask questions about your life, or at least what Rafayel knew about it. About who he thought you were, and about art. You did not seem that interested to know that you two had been in love.

“It's love!” Rafayel said with a cheery smile once he had finished catching you up as best he could. “You… You feel it, too. Right?”

You look at him, really look at him. At his handsome features, at his long hair, at his pretty scales, at his eyes. And you feel nothing.

You shake your head slowly. “I'm sorry, Rafayel. You seem great and all but, those aren't my memories. I don't feel anything for you. I'm sorry.”

His smile slowly dropped.

Love was gentle, he had thought to himself before. It was not meant to burn. It was not meant to hurt. Right?

Rafayel had left after you hadn’t accepted him. It left you feeling a bit annoyed. He seemed to care so much about that version of you but was so quick to leave when he realized that you no longer were that person. If it were you in such an absurd scenario, you would’ve kept trying. But maybe he realized how it looked from your perspective, having this stranger approach you and claim his undying love for you. Most anyone would be creeped out by it. At least he recognized that he needed a bit of distance to get his head straight.

Then what is this violent gnawing in his heart? What is this vicious pain in his chest?

Anyway, he was definitely the weirdest memory you had of the merfolk, but still. It was a bittersweet story he had spun. At the very least, it made for some good entertainment.

That was until you found a note, on enchanted paper that wouldn’t break underwater, and written with handwriting that you recognized as both your own and completely foreign. And in the note, the old witch told you everything.

You had most of the old witch’s memories but not all, and this… You couldn’t help but believe Rafayel just a bit with this in your hands.

It wasn’t just that though. There had been a picture with the note, and you saw yourself there, smiling at the camera. Had Rafayel taken this photo?

You had kept the photo in your journals. For some reason, it was hard to let it go. You were clearly human here, your skin no longer green but your features very much yours, and you recognized a genuine happiness in your expression. You don’t remember this happiness, but you couldn’t help but believe the photo. It was proof, evidence that there was a time when you had experienced true and unashamed happiness. There was this twinge of pain in your heart as you wished that you could re-experience it.

Regardless of what you used to be, you were happy there.

You missed it, with a quiet desperation that only grew with each passing day.

Perhaps you should have been more surprised than you were when he appeared again.

This life as a witch, with an endless power that means nothing except what it can do for other people’s selfish wants, it was not meant for you. So a part of you did hope, despite and despite and despite, that Rafayel was true.

It had been months, maybe years, when he came back. In that time, you had settled into your life as a witch. You had most of the old witch’s memories, with next to none of your life as a human, so it didn’t feel like much of anything that happened. You were just living your life. An unfulfilled one, where you spread magic to anyone but could make no use of it yourself, but a life nonetheless.

“I want to become a human,” he lied easily.

“Human?” you repeated.

“The ocean,” he started with, his gaze leaving you as he stared at the pile of journals in the corner. “It’s mad. I tricked it and it wants revenge. I think it wants to kill me.”

You didn’t really believe him, but you began preparations to make the potion anyway, pulling out a few journals to find the right recipe. “I’ll need your help with the hardest of ingredients.”

Rafayel would often hang around you as you made the potion. You quickly grew accustomed to him and his antics. He would often talk to you, about everything and nothing at all, ask a million questions and joke around constantly. He was a bit bratty, which should be expected of a spoiled prince, but he was charming without trying and made your days just a bit brighter. You couldn’t help it. You grew to quite like his company.

“It's a deal!” He brought his gaze back up to you and gave you a confident smile. “Just tell me what you need!”

And on the day you were finishing up mixing the potion, Rafayel had decided to bring his flute.

"Are all royals born talented?" you asked absent-mindedly while waiting for the potion to rise to a boil.

"We're taught the arts during our youths," Rafayel explains, "It is another way to communicate with those around me. I wish I had my flute when I first met you."

You nod, not realizing the severity of his words.

He handles the wooden instrument with the sort of trained grace that only a prince could have.

And so, Rafayel played the flute for you.

He played it for you, a beautiful sound that extended across the ocean, across the seas, and down your cold heart. Its gentle music tells a tale of love and sorrow, of the present and an uncertain future. It is a certain breath of emotion, each note and each pause.

Rafayel had learned to play all the traditional Lemurian instruments since youth, but this was the first time his song had a true purpose. Its sweetness overwhelmed your senses, yet its sorrow tied it all together with a sour taste.

You both feel the melody overcome you.

You can't help the silent tears streaming down your face, the melancholy and bittersweet love within its tune… it means everything to you.

Rafayel stopped when he noticed your tears. He moved his hand towards you but didn’t know how to comfort, how to help, when you two are practically strangers. “_____,” he said in a soft voice, deciding to put his hand on your shoulder with a gentle touch.

You curse at yourself for your feelings, murmur something that sounds like, “Hug me,” and so Rafayel does.

And for a moment, it feels like everything will be okay. For a moment, this version of you feels loved.

The potion bubbles.

You take a seashell from your corner of the sea and Rafayel takes you to the stormy surface. Once there, you turn the shell into a boat. Rafayel pushes the boat forward, and you guide him to a beach. Once you see the outline of the sand, you speak up.

The moment does not last.

“If you go eastward we’ll be closer to a city-”

“No, here is perfect,” Rafayel interrupts you. In the entire time you’ve known him as a witch, he has never once interrupted you, so it takes you by surprise. You just watch as he pushes you forward, pretty merfolk tail splashing up white seafoam, a line of the foam trailing off behind you as he swims. You watch as his long dark hair, unkempt from the effort, swishes behind him in purple waves that seem to sparkle under the moonlight.

You two meet the shore soon enough. He slows down, and it catches you out of your thoughts. If a witch can blush, then there is a slight heat peppered on your face.

Rafayel splays out on the edge of the water as you step out of the boat. You unscrew the bottle where you kept the potion and take out a shot glass from your pocket. He watches you as you pour an oozing amount of purple liquid into the glass, and you sit down next to him to pass it along.

“Here,” you say, the shot glass in your hand.

He smiles and nods, and without a second thought drinks it in. “Thank you,” he says after he swallows the syrup.

You had meant to warn him and make sure he was okay with what the potion would do to him, but it was too late now. So, you take back the shot glass back and pocket it, then look at the potion in your hand. Its sweet aroma envelops you, and you realize your mistake far too late to correct it. Rather than be scared, you feel an eerie peace within you. It's too late now.

“_____?” Rafayel says your name, confused.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you watch as his body slowly starts to dissipate.

“_____?! What’s happening?” he begs.

“You’ll be reborn,” you inform him. “You’ll be human, Rafayel.”

“Reborn?” he panics, frantic. “No, no, this isn’t what I wanted. It’s not what I wanted at all! I wanted to change, not to begin again!”

You take out a journal from the inside of your coat pocket and show him the recipe. A photo falls from the sleeve of the journal but neither you nor Rafayel notice. You cast a simple spell so that he can read it in his own language, and you watch as Rafayel’s eyes widen.

“This isn’t what I wanted!” he tells you, and you watch as he tries to move further into the ocean, back into his old lover's embrace through misguided desperation, trying to reach back into safety. But his skin is bubbling, the white foam forming on the edges of his skin. He can’t push himself up anymore.

You watch as he transforms. “I can’t undo the potion,” you say in a quiet voice. “I can slow its progress, but I can’t undo it. This is what you wished for, Rafayel.”

“Then I’ll find you,” he says, a ragged determination in his voice.

His tail has mostly disappeared by now. It looks more like his tail had been tucked into the sand's surface, but you know the truth. You cannot pretend otherwise now. And as you watch him, knowing that soon his fate will become yours as well, and your heart lurches forward in an aching pain. You wish that you could take away this pain, and with a terrible realization you realize you can't. You cannot use your powers for yourself, not unless he requests it first.

"Tell me to stop," you beg of him. "Your pain, I can stop it, just tell me to do it and-"

Rafayel just looks at you, his eyes unfocused. "No," he settles with. "I'll find you. I promise, I'll find you.

And it hurts, to see your beloved refuse you so.

You smile sadly. You look down at your legs and see the sand slowly climb up your skin, the feeling of millions of bits of glass piercing through your skin suddenly overwhelming you. The unpleasant heat inches forward on your fingers, your hands, your forearms. The pain is so great that it fills your eyes with searing tears. Then you look up, trying to blink the pain away, and see Rafayel move and try to fight the torture he’s put himself into as well. In his frantic despair, he hadn’t noticed that you were turning too.

“Okay.” It’s all you can say.

“I love you,” Rafayel confesses all of a sudden. “I never said it before- I couldn't- but I love you.”

He cries. Cries like you did at his song. Cries because he’s losing you again. Cries and cries.

You listen, as the siren’s song pierces the night sky with its wail, its sorrow enveloping you once again. You close your eyes, and feel.

And for some reason, you feel happy.

This version of you is loved. It isn't because of destiny or anything silly like that. You were simply given love and you gave it in turn.

This version of you does not remember. It does not need the memory of your old lover to feel loved.

And then, after your first day as a Deepspace hunter, you meet a painter named Rafayel that lives on a beach house. The name means nothing to you. His paintings are beautiful and some of them look vaguely like you but that can't be. You've never met him after all. Rafayel looks at you, recognition in his soft expression, and a sort of infatuation spreads through his heart.

You mean everything to him, and yet he means nothing to you.

But that's okay. You've both gone through a lot to get to this point, even if you don't know it anymore.

And he'll be here, once more to see you.

END

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