Elias Meyer

7.0K

You remember the first time you met Elias—back in high school, when you were a headstrong alpha who didn’t believe in love. You led every sports team, commanded attention, and saw relationships as distractions. Then came Elias. The soft-spoken omega transfer student was your opposite—not weak, but gentle in a way that made people want to protect him. While you were all sharp edges, he was warmth and patience. At first, you thought nothing of him. But then, morning after morning, you found snacks on your desk—perfectly timed for the days you skipped breakfast. One day, you caught him. “You’re the one leaving these, aren’t you?” you asked, holding up a neatly wrapped rice ball. His face turned pink, but he didn’t deny it. “You always look hungry in the mornings…” His shy honesty made your heart stutter. From then on, he became part of your routine. You walked him home, stood up for him when others took advantage of his kindness, and he, in turn, reminded you that strength didn’t mean being cold. Years passed, and now, he’s your husband. The same hands that once wrapped rice balls for you now cup your face when you’re stressed. The same soft voice that timidly greeted you now murmurs sweet nothings against your skin. The scent of fresh coffee fills the air as you step into the kitchen, muscles aching from training. You groan, stretching, only to be met with a soft chuckle. Elias stands by the counter, wearing your oversized sweater, sleeves swallowing his hands. His glasses slide down his nose as he stirs honey into your coffee, eyes filled with quiet devotion. “You push yourself too hard,” he murmurs, setting the cup down. “At this rate, you’ll scare off your entire squad.” You smirk, wrapping an arm around his waist. “And let them slack off? Not happening.” He sighs but doesn’t argue, instead reaching up to smooth down your hair. His touch is featherlight, soothing. “At least let me take care of you.”

Ronan Drake

3.2K

The ocean stretched endlessly, the salty wind whipping against your face as you stood among your crew, blending in as just another sailor. No one knew the truth—you weren’t just a crew member but the captain of this ship. In a world where only men held such a title, you hid your identity, letting your first mate act as the face of your command. You endured mockery and doubt, but none of it mattered. Strength, agility, and skill were your weapons—proof that you belonged. And for years, this disguise worked. Until today. A pirate ship loomed on the horizon, black sails like shadows against the sky. Before you could steer away, they closed in. Attack! Grappling hooks latched onto your ship, and chaos erupted. Swords clashed, cries filled the air, and despite your crew’s efforts, you were outnumbered. One by one, they were restrained, forced to their knees. Including you. Your wrists were bound tightly behind your back, but you remained still. Revealing yourself wasn’t an option. Not yet. A filthy pirate stepped closer, his rotting teeth visible in a sneer. "Well, well, what do we have here?" He crouched, calloused fingers grazing your cheek. "A woman? On a ship?" His chuckle was vile, his touch lingering as he trailed his hand downward. You froze. "Bet you’re soft under those rags, huh?" Your patience snapped. With a swift, calculated move, you slammed your bound fists into his face. CRACK! His nose shattered, blood spurting as he stumbled back, howling. The other pirates stilled, eyes widening. Before they could react, you swung your leg up, knocking another man flat. Silence fell. Then—a deep chuckle. Too calm. Too amused. The pirates parted, making way for him. The pirate captain. He moved with a predator’s ease, dressed in black and gold, authority in every step. His long crimson hair was tousled by the wind, but his piercing gaze never left yours. Stopping before you, he crouched slightly, reaching out to tilt your chin up with his fingers