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hanichani · 21 days

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🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall chapter V

pairing: lee know x f!reader x han jisung

summary: Han Jisung is the bane of Minho's existence. Fuck Han Jisung.

word count: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, nudity

author's note: oooooh things are getting spicy bestiessss. thank you for all the love and the feedback, i appreciagte every single word. let's see where this goes 👀

this series is 🔞, so minors, please DNI

series masterlist // skzms masterlist

< chapter IV - chapter VI (coming: friday, april 12, 3pm CET) >

Fuck Han Jisung.

Minho’s scalp is on fire, the midday sun bearing down on him where he sits at the bow of the ship. His hat lies forgotten in the captain’s quarters, but she’s currently having a strategy meeting with Hyunjin, so he doesn’t want to barge in just to get it. So here’s forced to bear it, beads of sweat accumulating on his brow, his skin burning under his black hair until he thinks he can feel the sunburn develop.

Then he hears it again. The stupidest fucking laugh he has ever heard, echoing across the deck, loud and shimmery and unabashed, as if its owner didn’t have a care in the world. What’s Han Jisung got to be so fucking happy about all the fucking time? Literally every time Minho sees the guy, he’s smiling. Or well, he is, until his eyes fall on Minho and then his smile always, without fail, dies a swift and painful death, crumpling until he’s looking at him with a barely contained scowl.

Minho flinches where he sits, lifts his arm and sinks his knife deep into the wood of the ship next to his legs with a dull thud. It shouldn’t affect him so much, the fact that Han Jisung arrived on the ship one day, as a prisoner, their biggest enemy’s nephew no less, all fancy clothes and expensive boots, pouty lips and flushed cheeks, and somehow wormed himself into everyone’s heart.

Minho has to admit he wasn’t very … focused that first day when they dragged Jisung into the room, his mind, and his dick, very preoccupied with the taste of his captain on his lips, the thundering of his heart as he allowed himself to leave his hands on her waist. Possessive, satiating something hidden deep in his chest that he didn’t allow himself to indulge in often, all too aware of the invisible line between them.

But he remembers Han Jisung’s arrogance, the scowl painted on his face that looked more like a petulant child than anything else. He also remembers the curl of familiar hatred in his guts when he spoke about his old crew, what they would try to do to him, remembers filing the knowledge away for later, to know just how painfully he would kill them once he got his hands on them – though Han Jisung somehow managed to sour even that with that fucking attitude of his, like he didn’t ever need Minho, quite the opposite. Arrogant asshole.

Minho lets his eyes wander over the deck, skimming the few groups of pirates sitting or working, until his eyes meet Jisung’s where he’s leaning against a mast, chatting to Felix. As per usual, the bright, gummy smile on Jisung’s face dims as soon as he sees Minho, the corners of his mouth falling, eyebrows furrowing and Minho suppresses the urge to snarl, spit onto the planks. Instead, he forces himself to look away, wrests his knife from the wood and drives it in harder, the plank splintering from the impact. When he looks back, Jisung has shifted, half of his perfectly shaped back now facing Minho instead of his face. And he seems to have recovered from Minho’s unpleasant presence, nay existence, his broad shoulders jumping with a silent giggle at something Felix must’ve said.

Felix. Felix, who had joined them after the captain had found him in that horrible whorehouse in Nassau two years ago, that still makes Minho shiver when he just thinks about it. He remembers the captain’s face when they heard his screams from the outside, and she had rushed in without a second’s hesitation, Minho himself hot on her heels, pulling the man who was forcing himself onto Felix off with a violent shove. Minho remembers because he had dragged the man out the door, hatred tickling his fingertips as he slit his throat and left him to bleed out slowly and painfully in an alley. By the time he’d come back, still wiping his knife clean from the filthy scum’s blood, Felix was already part of the crew, thanking him with sparkling eyes and a disarming smile.

Felix, who, for this reason, had never had a cabin mate – until Jisung. Minho doesn’t know how it happened, and he likes to pretend he’s not dying to know. But, of course, nobody volunteers the information. They’re all more than aware of Minho and Jisung’s … differences.

And they’re all on Jisung’s side, his brain supplies unhelpfully. Minho scowls at the surf. Jisung and Felix are inseparable. Seungmin greets Jisung with a soft smile, the rarest thing Kim Seungmin could hand out, patting Jisung on the back when he brings him food. Changbin and Chan sit next to him and pat him on the head when he offers them his leftovers. Hyunjin seems halfway to a serious crush on the guy, always making clothes for him and then dressing him up and running his hands all over Jisung’s body, gushing about his trim waist and thick thighs. And he’s pretty sure he heard Jisung’s stupid fucking laugh from the top a couple nights ago while he and the captain were … it doesn’t matter.

He just doesn’t get it. What’s so fucking special about Han Jisung?! Out of the corner of his eye he sees Hyunjin’s mop of black hair emerge from below deck and make for where Felix and Jisung are chatting and Minho decides he’s just about had enough of the sun scorching his head, of Han Jisung’s stupid laugh.

He swings his legs onto the deck, wrenches his knife from the wood and sheathes it. He feels three pairs of eyes on him as he walks past the little group of them, but he doesn’t spare them a single glance.

Hyunjin will probably give him an earful later about being a grumpy asshole, but he doesn’t care. He’d take that over having to watch his mere presence drain all happiness from Han Jisung’s eyes for the second time in half an hour.

His legs carry him to the captain’s quarters almost on autopilot. Changbin gives him a nod as he raps his knuckles against the heavy door twice and pushes it open.

And God, she’s a sight for sore eyes. Legs propped up on the edge of her desk, her knitted coat wrapped closely around her, what he assumes is Hyunjin’s ration list for the next stopover resting on her knees, her plump bottom lip worried between her teeth.

She only briefly raises her head when he enters, gives him a small, entirely radiant smile, before she turns her attention back to the paper in her lap. Minho closes the door behind him carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots his hat, sitting on the low settee next to her desk. But he doesn’t need it any more, ignores it in favour of walking over to her, coming up behind her until he can lean over her, his hands supporting himself on the armrests of her chair. His eyes run over the words on the paper, but he’s not even going to pretend like he’s reading it, his focus entirely on the way his chest is pressed ever so slightly against her shoulders, his arms resting on hers. The smell of rosemary and lavender and her that emanates from her hair much too faint for his liking from where he is, leaving him aching for more.

“We could afford two or three more crew,” she says, pensively, underneath him, “could really do with them, too, to upkeep the ship and have a better chance with attackers.”

He hums in agreement as she keeps talking, but he’s not really listening as he allows himself to succumb to the siren song of her presence, leaning down a little bit more until he can take a quiet, deep breath of her.

Her chuckle jolts him out of his reverie.

“Are you even listening?”

Minho absentmindedly hums again, a lazy grin spreading over his lips as he leans down, presses a kiss into her hair.

“Something something we should get more men, but you don’t know where to find them,” he mumbles, drags his lips down until they’re ghosting over the shell of her ear. Her little chuckle gives way to a delicious sigh that Minho wants to bottle for a rainy day.

“Like Jisung, he’s been a great addition. I wish they could all just wander into our hands like that …”

Minho freezes, his lips stilling on her warm, rosemary skin. The bliss of their bubble, her skin under his lips, burst suddenly and violently. Han Jisung. Again. He pulls back abruptly.

“Right.”

It comes out acrid. He turns around, busies himself picking up his hat from the settee, dusting it off carefully. He can feel her eyes boring into his back.

“Why do you hate the guy so much, Minho?” she suddenly asks, and he’s taken aback by the directness of her question. He scoffs, turns around and meets her eyes. She doesn’t look angry, just … like she’s trying to figure something out.

“Why do I hate him? Why does he hate me?”

The captain gives him a withering look.

“You literally nearly got him killed a couple weeks ago.”

“Yeah? And he punched me for it, in front of everyone, so I considered us even,” Minho sneers, and he knows he’s being petty. But he’s had about enough of everyone being on his ass about not liking Han Jisung when Han Jisung has been fucking recoiling from him since the very first day …

“Well, did you ever apologise? I know we’re not the most conventional with our customs, but last I checked that would still be a decent thing to do,” the captain chides, and Minho feels anger bubble in his chest. Of course. She’s on his side, too. It hurts more than he can allow himself to admit.

“I did not,” he spits, the stiff felt of his hat crinkling between his tightening fingers, “I don’t know how I would, considering the guy flees every time I set foot into the same room as him.”

The bitterness rises in his chest, and he turns around, makes for the door before he takes it out on her and regrets it later.

“Fine, you win, we won’t talk about it,” she sighs, “I’m about to go over those maps we took from Han Yujun’s ships with Seungmin, do you want to stay?”

Minho recognises the olive branch she’s holding out, but the olive branch reeks of pity, and he’d rather die than suffer that from her. He doesn’t turn when he reaches the door and opens it.

“No, thanks, I’ll see you at dinner.”

And with that, he walks out and straight to his own quarters, where he locks the door and buries himself in his book and his self-pity until the memory of Han Jisung stings a little less.

And by the time he makes his way back to the captain’s quarters a few hours later, he does feel better. He also feels more than a little sorry for how he reacted earlier. He could’ve been with her this whole time, just the two of them in their world. Maybe she would’ve leaned against his chest as they looked at the maps, allowing him to bury his face in her neck, pressing wet little kisses against her irresistible skin until she went pliable in his hands, ignoring Seungmin’s knock in favour of sinking between her legs and making her cum on his tongue.

But instead he had let Han Jisung get to him, again, and what did that get him?! He vows to himself that he won’t ever let it happen again, but that is easier said than done when he walks into the empty corridor and the person he sees through the half open door is most definitely not Seungmin.

“Could it be somewhere super specific? Like the Indian Ocean or the North Sea or something?” Jisung’s voice floats through the air. It’s deeper than Minho’s own, he can’t help but notice.

The captain hums, quietly, thoughtfully.

“Because … I mean, I’ve only ever been once, but I’ve seen maps like these of … of groups of small islands or archipelagos.”

Minho noiselessly tiptoes closer, until he has a clearer view of the room.

Night has fallen and the candles in the sconces all around the room bathe the desk, the settee, the captain perched on the corner of her desk and Jisung leaned over it in a warm, sensual light. She looks like a dream, the candlelight giving her an ethereal glow, softening the hardness in her features, softening everything about her usually wound taut body until Minho thinks he can feel her under his fingertips. Minho should know. This is his time to be in her room like this. But now the flickers of the flames instead bathe Han Jisung in their warmth, radiating off his soft, wavy hair, dipping the planes of honeyed skin exposed by another one of Hyunjin’s creations in a layer of gold so undeniably attractive, Minho wants to throw up.

“Seungmin has cross-checked them with every single one of our maps,” the captain mumbles, pointing to a stack of paper on the edge of the desk, Jisung follows her finger with a thoughtful look on his face. “And none of it lines up. Our maps are only a few years old, and Seungmin is one of the best cartographers out there …”

She slides off the corner of desk and walks over to Jisung and reaches across him to rifle through the papers and Minho watches Jisung’s eyelids flutter, gaze dragging over the expanse of her neck, then her back where her shirt has ridden up to expose the smallest sliver of the skin of her waist; watches his lips part when her arm brushes against his chest.

“Ah. Look,” she exclaims, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, entirely oblivious, and pulls the map towards her. She grabs another one to place next to it, gesturing between them and looking back at Jisung, who blinks at her for a second before lowering his gaze to the maps again. “This one seems to look really similar to this one we found on your ship. But, as Seungmin pointed out, it’s still not right. It’s not the same. And the scaling of these maps we got from your uncle’s ships just doesn’t … make any sense. From a cartography perspective.”

Jisung huffs, shifts his weight from one foot to the other and glares down at the desk with a deep furrow between his brows. He fixes the paper with a mean glare, like he’s trying to force it to give up its secrets by sheer willpower alone.

“I don’t even …” Jisung mumbles, a frustrated huff falling from his pouted lips, “I’ve never understood why he did this anyways. He would send these big ships, with crews of 20 people and someone like me on board, but the ships would mostly be empty … Well, except for these maps, it seems, maps that he didn’t even tell me about …”

He shakes his head incredulously, leaning over the desk again to inspect one of the maps, lingering on the meticulously painted edges of them with his ringed fingers. He leans his cheek in the cradle of his hand and sighs, absentmindedly shrugging off his jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair behind him and shoving the sleeves of his ruffled white shirt up his arms.

Minho watches the captain’s eyes follow Jisung’s movements, drag over his arms, his collarbones, the exposed V of his chest before it flutters up to his profile, lingers on his lips. Minho’s heart hardens into something unrecognisable.

The captain looks back at the maps, sighs, but it’s lighter now. She reaches out, gently pats Jisung on the shoulder, letting her hand rest there for only a second, but it’s enough for Jisung to straighten up with a start. He blinks down at her, stares.

“Just think about it, will you? Because Seungmin and I are at our wit’s end. You’re kind of our last chance …” she says, and Jisung turns to her, his face full of the same stubborn determination as that day when he had screamed at Minho to untie him.

“I promise, I’ll figure it out … we’ll figure it out,” Jisung asserts.

The captain gives him a devastating, lopsided smile, one that makes the tips of Jisung’s ears turn pink and Minho’s heart drop into his stomach.

“Give me some of your optimism, please,” the captain chuckles, but it’s soft, her cheeks warming in a way that makes Jisung’s pout stretch into a sweet, conspiratorial smile. He leans into her, bumps her shoulder with his playfully.

“Hey, you’ve got me now. How could we ever lose?” Jisung chokes with another sickeningly sweet smile that makes his cheeks puff up and Minho watches his fingers brush against hers where they hang next to one another, how he extends his pointer finger to drag over the back of her hand, watches their eyes catch on each other for just a broken moment too long and Minho burns.

He turns abruptly because he knows he can’t stand any more of it, his mind filling with images to torture himself, of Jisung leaning in, kissing her in the golden candlelight that’s his, running his tongue over the seam of her lips, her soft sinful hands on Jisung’s body – his world spins, legs uneven as he stumbles down the hallway, the throbbing wrath in his guts driving him down the stairs, through the living area where he ignores Changbin’s incredulous call of his name and straight through the mess and into the kitchen.

The swinging doors slam against the wall with a loud crack and Felix nearly jumps out of his skin, drops the wooden spoon into the pot he was stirring. Sauce splatters all over his apron, and he curses, gives Minho a dirty look, but Minho has no patience left in his body. The captain. His captain. Not her. Why her?!

“Your little charity case is trying to get into our captain’s pants,” Minho barks out, probably loud enough for anyone lingering in the mess to hear. He doesn’t care. They should all know the audacity of their new favourite.

“Who?!” Felix asks, incredulous, fixing Minho with an infuriatingly patronising look.

“Your little charity case. Your pet. Fucking Han Jisung,” he spits out and Felix’s eyes widen before they narrow again, this time much less friendly.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Minho, he’s not my … what the fuck?!”

“Whatever,” Minho interrupts him, waves his hand dismissively rolls his eyes, “what matters is that he’s trying to get into the captain’s pants.”

Felix’ eyes narrow even further.

“I don’t understand what you of all people are trying to say with that.” Minho’s clenches his fists so hard he hears a knuckle pop.

“He hasn’t even been here for a year, and he’s already trying to seduce the only woman on the ship. It’s preposterous, it’s disrespectful, it’s …”

Felix shakes his head and turns back to the pot, decisively grasping the spoon, stirring whatever he’s cooking with all the calm in the world. He doesn’t even look at Minho when he finally speaks.

“Well, does she want him, too?” he asks nonchalantly, and Minho’s vision goes blood-red. When he comes to, there’s sauce spilled all over his shirt and his hands are wrapped around Felix’s throat, straining against him where Minho has him pinned against the wall, harder than he knows he should. But Felix is just glaring back at him, coughing, but unfazed in his fury. His foot kicks out and painfully catches Minho in the knee. Minho almost welcomes the pain.

“I can’t believe you would take a stranger’s side over all of us, over the captain who saved your fucking life,” he screams and Felix’s eyes narrow to slits. Behind Minho, the kitchen doors slam open again, and then he’s being dragged back, away from Felix whose voice cuts him deeply.

“Don’t pretend like this is about the captain, you fucking hypocrite,” Felix yells, “you’ve been fucking her for years.”

Changbin is in front of him, his hands on his chest, pushing him away from Felix and muttering calming words when Felix delivers the final blow.

“You’re just scared she won’t want you any more when she finally realises what an asshole you are. When she realises there’s someone much nicer out there.”

Minho thinks everyone in the room might hear his heart crack cleanly in two. He shoves Changbin to the side and lunges at Felix again, shoving him into the wall so hard he hears Felix’ head thunk against the wall, hears Felix’ hiss of pain. He can’t see Felix’ face, can barely make out the contours of the kitchen, tears of rage in his eyes blinding him. Changbin grabs him again, his arms locking around Minho’s middle, lifting him off the floor as he carries him away.

“I fucking hate you,” Minho screams, legs thrashing, trying to get out of Changbin’s iron grip. He barely recognises his own voice, so shrill and vengeful. Another tear makes a track down his burning cheeks, “we should’ve fucking left you there.”

The last thing he hears is Felix scoffing out in disbelief before Changbin is dragging him from the kitchen, through the mess and the living room, Minho kicking and screaming in his hold all the way up the first flight of stairs, until Changbin kicks open the door to Minho’s quarters and throws him onto his bed unceremoniously. He crosses his arms and fixes Minho with a look so stern that it makes Minho falter, stare back at him petulantly.

“Minho,” Changbin warns, his face harder than Minho has ever seen it. He suddenly feels very small. “Minho, whatever it is that’s got you so fucked up that you’re fighting your friends, sort it out before you do any more damage. This isn’t cool.”

Minho’s vision is blurry with tears, and he tries, but there’s no way to will them down any more. When he opens his mouth to speak, a pathetic sob tumbles out.

“What is it about Han Jisung that has you all so fucking infatuated?” he chokes out, venom spilling out between the tears that are now running down his cheeks freely, “why is everyone on his fucking side?”

“Huh?! Nobody is on anyone’s side, there are no si–“

“Yes, there are!” Minho screams, sits up enough so he can jab a finger in Changbin’s direction. “Ever since he arrived, he’s been turning everyone against me. Prissy little pretty boy waltzes in and I question his motivations, and you all make me out to be the bad guy? When all I wanted was to keep you safe, keep us safe, like I have done for years. Does that mean nothing to you? Do you know what I’ve given for this crew?”

“Minho, …” Changbin mutters, and Minho thinks he can see a flicker of uncertainty in Changbin’s eyes. It adds fuel to the fire burning him from the inside out.

“It’s good to know what you all fucking think of me. Go canoodle with your new boytoy. I hope he’s as good with a knife as I am because next time one of you gets jumped you better not count on me any more …”

Minho knows it’s extreme, knows deep in his heart that he would never abandon them. But he’s tired. He’s so hurt, his heart feels like it’s bleeding.

“Minho, …” Changbin says again, and it’s even softer this time. “We don’t … we don’t want to choose sides. We don’t hate you. You’re … Minho, our Minho. Yes, you made a wrong call the other day, but we all know why you did it. We never held it against you. We just don’t understand why you hate him so much. He’s a good guy. Actually, I think you two would get along really well, if you just gave it a chance.”

Minho tries to scoff, but it comes out as more of a hiccup. He refuses to look at Changbin, just shakes his head at the floor.

“Well, I’m glad he’s a good guy, hope that works out for you,” he spits, bitterness laced in his voice.

“How is that what you took from what I just said?” Changbin asks, but then gives up. The fact that he does is a dull pang in Minho’s heart. “Fine, we won’t talk about him now. I just need you to know that you’re loved. By us. By all of us. Do you understand?”

Minho hears the allusion to her, but he knows that Changbin’s wrong. Because she doesn’t love him. Not like he loves her. Suddenly, he’s bone tired, his whole body aches with it as he turns away.

“Get some sleep, Min. And tomorrow, you’ll apologise and Felix will apologise and all will be well again.”

There’s silence, like Changbin is waiting to see if Minho will find anything else to say, but he doesn’t. He sniffles into the silence, his body aching with a pain so deep he doesn’t know what to do with it. Before he can even look up, door closes softly and Minho crumbles.

When the captain knocks later that night, calls his name, her voice a soft balm that he wishes he could let soothe him to sleep, he’s still sitting on the floor next to his bed, his limbs shivering with the ache in his chest where his heart should be. He doesn’t respond, lets her think he’s asleep. She leaves after a few minutes and Minho hates himself.

Jisung had never seen Felix angry before and god, he hadn’t thought it could be this bad, not with Felix’s usual soft, sunny demeanour. But no. It was terrifying. His sugary sweet smiles replaced by withering scowls, all turned inwards, muttering curses under his breath.

Jisung had come to dinner and found Felix like that, refusing to speak more than a few words, staring at his plate stony. Jisung was just about to succeed in wordlessly staring at Seungmin for long enough to get him to ask Felix what had happened, when the doors opened and Changbin made his way to their table. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, and it made Jisung even more worried.

“Did you throw him overboard?” Felix asked, bitterness laced in his voice. Changbin gave him a pointed look and shook his head. Felix scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Too bad.”

Changbin, faced with everyone else’s puzzled eyes boring into him, heaved out a sigh.

“Felix and Minho had … a fight,” he explained, but Felix almost immediately cut him off.

“We didn’t have a fight, Lee Minho barged into my kitchen and picked a fight, there’s very distinct difference,” he spat, but Changbin seemed to have had enough. He slammed a fist onto the table. Felix’ eyes went wide.

“He may have picked the fight, but you also said some more than nasty things, Felix,” he rebuked Felix, a whose face turned an angry red. “And now we are going to stop talking about this, before more people get hurt, got it?”

Felix gave him a nasty glare through the burning of his cheeks but didn’t fight Changbin, only picked up his still mostly full plate and disappeared into the kitchen. Jisung met Hyunjin’s eyes, but even he just shrugged, and Jisung did his best to drop it. Later, he quietly helped Felix do the dishes, ignoring the questions and worry burning on his tongue. Then he quietly followed Felix into their cabin, quietly undressed and got ready for bed, peeking out from behind his book as Felix climbed into his bed and murmured a good night.

But now it’s the morning and whatever Minho had done to upset Felix must’ve cut deep because when Jisung arrives at breakfast, Felix is glaring at the slice of bread on his plate and barely speaks, slamming the kitchen doors closed behind himself when he’s done.

So when Jisung is in the bath later that morning and Minho walks in? The tension in his body pulls tight, and he can feel the confrontation coming from a mile away.

Jisung had chosen the middle one of the three bathtubs in the bathroom today, had washed almost half a bar of the pine scented soap into the water before he sunk into it, his back to the door, letting the hot water soothe the strain right out of his muscles. He doesn’t open his eyes when he hears the door open and shut behind him. It was morning, after all, not unusual for the rest of the crew to start washing up. Though when the seconds tick by and there’s no other movement, Jisung starts wondering.

When he turns around, he makes eye contact with Minho, and Jisung’s body tenses up all over again.

He didn’t like being in the same room as Minho on any given day, but being here, in this small room, alone – it was more than uncomfortable. But true to his resolution, Jisung refused to budge, staring back at Minho defiantly, daring him to do something. After a few more seconds, Minho seems to make up his mind, his face hardening as he walks to the low bench and kicks off his boots.

Jisung frowns and settles back into the warmth of the water, sinking in until he can feel it tickle his earlobes. He forces his eyes to shut, but it’s hard when he can hear Minho move around the room, lighting the logs, passing by right behind Jisung to pick up a bar of soap, pouring water from the heater into the tub until he deems it full enough.

Jisung’s pretty sure Minho wouldn’t drown him in the public bathroom, but he can’t help but crack a careful eye open. Minho is facing away from him, testing the water with the tips of his fingers. Jisung is just about to close his eyes again before Minho can catch him, when Minho pulls his shirt over his head and Jisung’s eyes fly wide open.

His back is broad, milky skin pulled taut over planes of muscle that shift as his hands work the strings of his pants. With a shudder he notices the faded red tracks of nails running down from his shoulder blades, between the myriad of small, lighter scars dotted over his skin, and his whole face flushes when Minho shoves down his pants and the red marks trail down over his ass, round, perfect, flexing and jiggling a little as he moves in a way that has Jisung’s brain short-circuit a little bit, and then Minho turns around and …

Oh.

Oh, wow.

Minho’s hung. Even flaccid, his cock hangs hard and heavy and thick between his thick, muscled thighs, and Jisung blinks at it entirely stupidly for entirely too long before he forces his eyes up, past Minho’s abs and chiseled chest and dusty nipples (and a collection of love bites around his collarbones that make Jisung feel lightheaded) until his eyes meet Minho’s, who’s staring straight back at him with a condescending, shit-eating grin. There’s a darkness in his eyes that makes Jisung slightly uneasy, and he flinches, embarrassment flushing his face. But he sets his jaw, pretends he doesn’t care, glares at Minho, dares him to say something, but Minho just quirks an eyebrow and kicks his pants off the rest of the way and gets into the tub – facing him? Jisung blinks stupidly. Why the fuck is he facing him?!

Dumbfounded, Jisung tries not to, but he still watches every movement as Minho throws his leg over the side and gets into the tub, sinking into the hot water with a happy sigh that shoots straight between Jisung’s legs and makes his traitorous cock twitch slightly. Jisung gives Minho one last dirty look before he leans back, closes his eyes again, does his best to look calm and collected as he spends the next five minutes trying to talk down the semi he’s sporting just from looking at Minho. Stupid fucking Minho. Why did he have to be hot?! Though he supposes if the captain was sleeping with anyone, she would be …

The nail marks, the love bites. It confirms it, doesn’t it, Jisung thinks, and there’s an ugly stab of jealousy in his heart. Well, technically, they could be from anyone, but with everything he’s heard … Jisung has to suppress a shudder when his brain conjures up the image of her sinfully beautiful body under Minho, her heat, her soft, plush lips, object of his own wet dreams, wrapping tightly around Minho, fingers digging into his skin as he fucks her deep and hard with those thick thighs and that giant fucking cock of his that would probably feel so good against his prostate …

His traitorous cock responds happily, chubbing up even more, and Jisung huffs out in annoyance.

“Wow, you’re so annoying you’re annoying yourself? Go figure,” Minho ribs from the other tub. Jisung’s eyes fly open. Minho is lying back, annoyingly muscular arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed, an annoying smirk on his lips.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jisung just grumbles out. He closes his eyes, leans back again, affecting an indifference as if his cock isn’t half hard and Felix’ anger isn’t bubbling through his veins.

“What? I’m not the one huffing and puffing at my own thoughts,” Minho says casually and Jisung snaps. He knows this will not end before he even finishes his first sentence.

“What is your problem, actually?!” he hisses, props his arms on the side of the tub and pulls himself up to a relaxed seat. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me, too, like you did with Felix last night?”

Minho’s eyes shoot open at that, and Jisung notes with satisfaction that his confidence wavers for a split second. But before he knows it, Minho’s eyes narrow again, and he leans back, pretending to get comfortable against the wooden wall of the tub.

“Jesus, it’s worse than I thought,” Minho says, “you’re like his little lapdog. Yap yapping away. All bark, no bite.”

Oh, this asshole.

“No bite, huh?” Jisung spits, sits up so fast the water laps against the side of the tub dangerously. At least it gets Minho to finally open his eyes properly. “The bruise on your jaw you carried around with you for two weeks told a different story.”

Minho huffs out a laugh.

“Nothing more than a pin prick. I’ve been stabbed, kid, your little fist hardly did any damage.”

“Well, that’s great to know, then next time I won’t hold back when you pick a fight with my friend.”

Minho raises an eyebrow at Jisung, fixing him with his dark eyes, and it’s a little intimidating, to have Minho’s whole attention like this. But

Jisung stubbornly refuses to waver.

“Your friend?”

Jisung falters, and Minho catches it immediately, digs his finger deeper into his weak spot.

“You’ve hardly been here for three months, you don’t know what friendship means on this ship, princess.”

Jisung is half out of the water before the hated nickname is even fully past Minho’s lips. A wave of water splashes onto the floor and Minho’s eyes seem to dip down to his newly exposed stomach, the dip of his waist, for just a split second. At least Jisung’s not hard any more.

“Fucking stop calling me that,” Jisung hisses. Minho raises both his eyebrows.

“Why? I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

“You know full fucking well, why,” Jisung replies, his fingers digging into the side of the tub almost painfully, “you heard that fucker call me that the day you tried to get me killed, and you still decide to say it. You really are just a bad fucking person.”

Minho blinks at him, his face an unreadable mask. Without another word, he sits up, supports both his hands on the side of the tub and heaves himself out of the water. Jisung is speechless. Is he just going to walk away? He watches Minho towel his hair and scoffs out a disbelieving laugh. There’s no humour in it.

“What? Nothing?”

“I didn’t fucking try to get you killed,” Minho says, quietly, harshly.

Jisung shakes his head, heaves himself out of the tub as well, grabs his towel to wrap around his waist.

“Sure you didn’t,” he scoffs and Minho whips around, stares him down.

“All I do, everything I do, is to protect this ship, the captain, and the crew, okay? I didn’t know if I could trust you, so I kept you somewhere I could keep an eye on you. I was not going to let anything happen to you.”

Minho turns from him again, bending down to pick up his pants. Aggressively, he pulls them over his still damp legs. Jisung’s trembling with rage now, his fist balled at his side.

“Why would I believe you? You let that fucker punch me, you let him touch me.”

Jisung watches as Minho’s movements falter, watches his fingers tremble as he does up his pants. What does he have to be upset about? Jisung takes the moment to grab his own shirt, shrugging it over his shoulders, though it does little to quell the trembling of his body. He feels nauseous. The moist heat of the room makes him dizzy.

“Well, if you would stop fucking flinching away from me like I’m dangerous …” Minho starts, but his sentence trails off. Jisung scoffs in disbelief. He feels poisoned. Poisonous.

“You know, the captain always tells me that everyone on this ship is family, that you … we keep each other safe. Everyone keeps saying that you keep them safe. But I don’t feel safe.”

The sentence tumbles into the silence of the room, and Minho freezes. He looks like he’s been slapped. But Jisung isn’t done yet, the heaviness in his chest finally abating a little bit with every word of this he finally gets off his chest.

“I know you didn’t like me when I arrived. And that’s fine. But ever since then, you’ve shut down every single attempt of mine to bridge the gap between us. And then you tried to kill me …”

“I didn’t …” Minho whispers, but Jisung interrupts him, roughly.

“… you torment me by calling me what he called me, you leave every room I enter, refuse to even fucking look at me.”

Jisung would laugh at the fact that Minho even refuses to look at him now, only blinks at the floor, but there is no humour in this situation at all. Jisung feels broken open, red, and raw, in front of the guy who’s been making his life a living hell. Suddenly, Minho turns, grabs his shirt and pushes past Jisung. He shoves his feet into his boots and Jisung angrily realises that he just plans on leaving.

“Say something, you coward,” he curses, and Minho finally looks up at him. He looks devastated.

“I didn’t try to kill you, I … I didn’t realise that’s what that fucker called you … after my … after Felix … I … fuck, I_gut_ people like that, I cut them limb from limb, I would never … fuck,” he curses and rips open the door, makes down the hallway without even bothering to put his shirt on. Jisung follows him before he can think better of it.

He catches up with Minho only a few feet down the hallway, pulls him back by his arm and pushes him into the wall, hard.

“No, you don’t run away from this,” he spits and stares up at Minho, who’s unfortunately still a few inches taller than him. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Minho blinks at him, his lips slightly parted in surprise, bunny teeth peeking out from underneath his top lip in a way that makes him altogether less intimidating and then clamps his lips shut, furrows his eyebrows, stares at Jisung with a frustrated desperation in his eyes.

“I don’t fucking hate you!” he hisses out, “You’re one of us now, and I would give my life for you just like I would for every other person on this ship, but you hate me because you’re scared of me and I can’t even blame you because everything I do somehow … ends up wrong with you.”

Now it’s Jisung’s turn to stare blankly and Minho shoves him back until Jisung’s back hits the wall. Except this time, it doesn’t feel threatening, not when there are tears of frustration glistening in Minho’s eyes. He lifts his hand, jabs his index finger into Jisung’s chest, his erratic breath fanning over Jisung’s face and Jisung’s heart rabbits in his chest. A drop of water drips from Minho’s raven locks, runs down his neck, pools in the dip of his collarbone.

“I don’t know what it is about you, but you drive me fucking crazy,” Minho breathes out and Jisung’s body moves before he can even realise what he’s doing.

Both of his hands wrap around the back of Minho’s neck, and he pulls him down, straight into his own parted lips. Minho makes a choked sound in the back of his throat, but Jisung doesn’t let up, digs his fingernails into the skin of Minho’s neck, presses his lips against Minho’s harder. When his brain catches up to his body, he tries to pull away, but Minho doesn’t let him, pushes closer, crowds him against the wall, trapping Jisung’s body between his strong arms and slipping his tongue into Jisung’s mouth. Molten hot need bubbles in Jisung’s gut and he moans pathetically. One of his hands skates down Minho’s chest, smoothes over his hot skin, thumb catching on Minho’s nipple and Minho hisses into his mouth. But it seems to shock Minho out of whatever it is they’re doing because suddenly, he pulls back, stumbles back a few steps and stares at Jisung with wide eyes.

Where Jisung is flushed and embarrassingly hard underneath the towel around his waist, Minho is deathly pale, and he doesn’t look okay at all. Jisung’s stomach drops.

“Minho?” he whispers, as gentle as he can.

Minho blinks rapidly, shakes his head, takes a few shaky steps backwards, before he turns and flees, runs up the stairs.

Hurried footsteps sound behind you as you push open the door to your office. You whirl around and come face to face with a flushed, wide-eyed Chan.

“Jesus, is everything okay?” you ask, your heart in your throat at how panicked Chan looks.

“Captain, I …” he starts, before he turns around, checking if there’s anyone behind him, “you have to promise me you won’t be angry with me for telling you this, but I can’t not tell you. Like, you’re our captain, you have the right to know, even though he will kill me for this.”

There’s a blind panic running through your veins as you stare at Chan.

“Chan, if you don’t tell me right now…”

“I saw Minho and Jisung kiss. Downstairs. Outside of the baths."

< chapter IV - chapter VI (coming: friday, april 12, 3pm CET) >

series masterlist // skzms masterlist // kofi

🔖 series taglist and general taglist open! be 18+ and have your age in bio when you ask to be added

taglist part 1: @puppyminnnie @like-a-diamondinthesky @lyramundana @laylasbunbunny @minsflannelwrap148 @caitlyn98s @straystays2345 @3rachasninja @maximumkillshot @sungprotector @stayconnecteed @mellhwang @chlodavids @kookiesbunny @noellllslut @warren-thedarkangel @kidrauhlschik @anyhow-everything @krishastumblernow @cutiespaghetti @hobi-szn @usagi---mochi @stolasisyourparent @steadysuitenthusiast @queen-in-the-shadows

@ayoitschannie @starsandrqindrops @redstayrosie @vitrealisbunny @seukijeuxq @bakedlilgoonie @bookworm731 @jazziwritesthings @katsukis1wife @minhos4thkitty @gbskzlover @armystay89 @chuwii3o @foivetimesacharm @palindrome969 @luvyev @binnies-binna @gimmeurtmi @ashareeboobear @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @staysinbloom @f1wh0r3 @mnwrld @linocz @linosssss

#SCREAMING #oh my god now it’s getting fucking GOOD #not that it wasn’t good before but the fucking plot twist #oh my god i cannot #i wonder how the captain is gonna go about this #i also wonder how it’s gonna be between felix and minho now #oh my god i CANNOT wait for the next one

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hanichani · 23 days

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im sorry but ur bias is a artist? bC MINE IS AF . han covers on instagram omg im in tears hes so wOWOWWOJDNEJXJWJD . ((whoever convinced him to create the account, thank you very much .

in this house we ❤️ han jisung n han jisung only !!!!!

- 🌙

hi mooonie <3 i love to see u send in asks!

I KNOW, I WAS LIKE OH MY GOD THIS MAN IS JUST GONNA MAKE THIS INTO A COVER ACCOUNT. i’m so happy about it. more hanji singing for us. he is genuinely so talented. we really do love him, he’s baby.

#hanichani’s asks

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hanichani · 28 days

Text

what would i do? (without someone like you) ──★ ˙🌱 ̟ ¡!

bangchan x ninth member! reader | 1.6k words✔︎

my notes⎯ i re-wrote this thing so many times i've lost count lol. i don't know if i'm satisfied with this because i couldn't convey the feeling as well as i wanted but i still like it! hope you enjoy! (also #bangchantakecareofyourself) warnings⎯ self neglect, reader taking care of bangchan. genre⎯ ninth member! au, angst, comfort, (heavily implied) self-neglect, platonic. songs⎯ what would i do?; strawberry guy

⎯catalog for skz✰ | ⎯ navigation✰ [requests are open]

"are you okay chan?"

the question lingers in the air for a hot second. it floats around until it hits the distracted ear of chan, who sits with his face resting on his chin, unmoving from his seat at the desk.

he blinks after a second, the fog slowly clearing from his eyes.

"huh?" his voice sounds distant as he resumes fiddling with the unfinished track.

you could tell that something was off in his demeanor. his postured was slouched, arms weak in their positions as he tries to fight off the sleep to continue working. you figured it had been a while since he had rest. you all were pre-paring for a comeback and with that comes a lot of work. new concepts, new looks, new songs. a high expectation bangchan finds himself fretting over due to the preconceived notions stays has on the upcoming album.

you've seen bangchan re-write a song 15 times because he thought stays wouldn't like one lyric. everyone, including you, has told him that he could only remove that one line, and keep the rest but he had the idea that everything has to flow together. which is why he's on take #16.

you give him a once over, your brows creasing. "i said are you okay?" he gives you a quick glance, his head bouncing as he goes back to his laptop, "how about you take a break?"

"can't."

a quiet sigh leaves your lips as you get up from the couch. the sky had darken as more time was spent in the studio, the only light source was the small table lamp in the far corner in the room. even then you could see just how much all of this was affecting him.

his eyes were sunken in, big purple-red like bruises encase them. he lifts up his hand to rub at the irritated skin. anyone could tell that he was exhausted.

your hands come up to rub out the kinks in his shoulders, "you're exhausted."

his body is defiant in letting him relax into your soothing touch, he hesitates for a second, letting the final moments of the massage sit in before he lightly shakes you off. "no time for sleep. i took a nap earlier, and i had a cup of coffee." he goes back to the track he was clipping.

an eyebrow raise, "how much earlier?"

this time he sighs and drops both hands. "y/n..."

"i'm just looking out for you. as the leader you have to take care of yourself, because if you aren't, then how do you expect to take care of us?" you know the question hits hard when you feel his body freeze underneath your hands. you stare at the back of his head, in the corner of your eye you see his shadow move a fraction and then his head drops. "you know that you don't have to be so hard on yourself," you take a moment to gauge his reaction, then a soft, "right?"

he releases a shaky breath, muttering.

you let your hands find the base of his neck, letting them go down to follow the path of his shoulder, willing the words from his throat. when you first joined stray kids, you were extremely nervous to the point where you couldn't speak, bangchan found that the movement worked well. you hoped it would work as well in your favor.

"i" he starts, his voice broken under the amount of stress resting on his chest, "yeah...i know."

you nod to yourself, a prideful smile on your lips, "okay then, why don't you take a break, let han or changbin finish it up in the morning," he goes to interject but you're quick to cut in, "and don't worry about putting this on them," taking the words from his mouth, "i'm sure they won't mind.

for the first time since he entered the studio, it's been almost 5 hours, he looks up at you and you can just see how much it's all affecting him, even down to the glassy look rising in his eyes.

he doesn't say anything but stare. he still looks hesitant. like at any moment he'll run off with the laptop and lock himself in a closet.

you stare back.

30 seconds, maybe a minute passes before a defeated look crosses over his face, letting his head drop onto your outstretched arm. wordlessly, he gives you one last look, then turns around to save the file, exit out of the software, and shuts down his computer.

"okay."

"okay?" you can't help the happiness that laces your tone.

"okay, i'll take a break, get some rest."

a squeal escapes your throat as you hold yourself back from celebrating, you honestly didn't think it was going to be as easy as it was. "i'm glad you're doing this, you need to give yourself some time to repair." you step back as he rises from the chair, holding on to his arm as he tries to return the feeling back to his legs, "how about you let me take care of you tonight? we can stop by the convenience store on the way home and pick up some snacks?"

chan immediately shakes his head, "i can't let you do that."

you bend down to retrieve your bag from the couch, making a pit stop by the lamp to turn it off, "why not?" you question, meeting him at the door. he leans on it for support. "you do it for me all the time."

"exactly," he holds open the door for you as you make your way out into the hallway, as you walk several offices are lit up by the occupants inside, you can only hope that they are not in the same situation as the man next to you. "as your elder, i'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around."

you scoff, rolling your eyes, "please, you know how many times i have had to take care of changbin after he gets sick because he ate too much? this is nothing new."

for the first time in 3 days a sound embodying the phrase ha ha ha escapes his lips. it's so hearty and abrupt that he has to stop walking. it brings a little smile to your face.

"what?" you groan, playing into it. "it's not funny! it was so annoying, i'm serious!" you latch onto his arm to continue dragging him out and into the lobby, nodding at the lady at the front desk as you pass, "he sounded like a baby with the way he was complaining."

"trust," he starts, regaining his breath, "i've had to deal with that before." he huffs and looks at you, then the giggles come back and you can't help but join him. it lasts until you get to the front doors of eMart.

before you can pass through the threshold a hand yanks you back. you look up to find chan already staring at you, an indescribable glint in his eyes. "yeah?"

it takes him a second to gather his thoughts, mouth opening and closing undecidedly. after a moment he finally finds his voice, hand gripping onto the sleeve of your jacket. "...thank you." he blinks and a stray tear falls, "it means a lot."

you can't help the watery smile that graces itself on your lips, the sudden affection throwing you off guard. you reach up and brush the tears from his face, using two fingers to turn the corner of his mouth upwards, "don't thank me. you always take care of us, someone has to take care of you."

you pull him towards the automatic doors, listening as the chime of the robotic voice welcomes you in. the sight of the noodles you were craving makes your stomach growl. "c'mon! i know what i want to get!"

even though this was supposed to be a break from making music, chan can't help the melody that repeats in his head as he watches you, still gripping onto his hand, drag him through the isles.

he knew he had to make something for you, as a token of appreciation.

A WEEK LATER⎯

it had been sometime since you had last been in the studio. all of the songs and planning for the comeback were completed and now you all were in the final stages, preparing for the promotions.

thankfully, today was your day off.

it had been raining nonstop, the water covering the streets and sidewalks like a blanket. even though it was 4 o'clock in the evening, clouds covered the sun making it seem more like 6.

it was perfect for a nap.

as you were getting into your bed your phone on the dresser vibrates and you grudgingly get up to retrieve it. you tap it once and the notification center pops up;

chanツ now

what would i do?.mp4

as soon as you open the message, a little confused, another text roles in.

a couple weeks ago i was going through a rough patch of overworking myself to the brink of exhaustion. i hadn't ate, bathe, or slept properly in days before. then you came and convinced me to take a break, to take care of myself. before you joined the group i was always worried about taking care of the others that i never took care of myself. you helped me realize that. i'm not trying to belittle the others for their self-awareness skills but you are the first in a long time to take care of me like that. and it had me thinking. what would i do without someone like you? and despite you telling me to take a break this came to mind and i couldn't stop myself. so y/n, this goes to you. thank you for taking care you me that night. i hope you know that i will always take care of you too.

love, bangchan.

and as you listen to the track you can't help the tears that follow.

thank you for reading <3

#crying #this is so adorable #i want a part 2 of this taking care of channie oh my :(#props to u author #this was so soft but also realistic #like chan would be sooo hesitant to actually stop snd breath #Ahhh

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hanichani · 28 days

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🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall chapter IV

pairing: lee know x f!reader x han jisung

summary: things between minho and jisung are slowly starting to come to a head as minho makes a bad call. a really bad call.

word count: 6.9k

warnings: violence and swearing!! fighting with fists and guns and big old knives; death (of bad guys only!); jisung is faced with his abuser, so warning for mentions of sexual assault (nothing too graphic, only one little flashback)

author's note: this was one of my favourite chapters and one of the hardest things I've ever written. as someone who comes from just smut and one-shots, building such an intricate action scene was sooo fucking hard. so please go easy on me, we all start somewhere. anyways, do we think things between minho and jisung will finally reach a boiling point soon?

this series is 🔞, so minors, please DNI

series masterlist // skzms masterlist

< chapter III - chapter V (coming: friday, april 5, 3pm CET) >

It’s two weeks later and Jisung is elbow deep in lavender scented laundry suds, giggling about a story Hyunjin is telling him about a time when Seungmin got drunk and tried to climb up to the top, singing a love song at the top of his lungs, trying to get to Jeongin, who was panicking and trying to get down before Seungmin could hurt himself, when he hears it. The distant, but not-distant-enough sound of a cannon. Hyunjin’s smile falls, his head shoots up, and they look at each for a moment. Then another cannon shot rips through the silence, and they shoot to their feet.

By the time they reach the main deck, there’s already mayhem – Jeongin flies down the sails, Seungmin yells something from the quarterdeck, whips the wheel around so fast it sends Hyunjin and Jisung stumbling into each other. Jisung gets shoved to the side as the captain barges out of her quarters, snatches the binoculars out of Jeongin’s hands and flies to the forecastle, Jeongin and Minho on her heels.

“She’s small, no more than 20 on board. Looks like a government ship. We can try outrunning her, but she’s fast and heading straight for us,” Jeongin rattles off.

The words government ship ring through Jisung’s brain louder than any cannon.

Minho turns around and stares straight at him as if he heard it, too.

“They’re aiming for our gun,” the captain mumbles, eyes trained on the ship on the horizon. Her shoulders are pulled taut and her eyes are cold, colder even when she turns around and announces. “We’ll fight them. Everyone, positions. Take no prisoners, it’s time to send a message.”

And as if they were just waiting for those words, the mad scramble on deck gets madder. Hyunjin disappears from his side and Jisung just stands there, blind and dumb, before he gets jostled to the side again, this time by Chan who tells him to stand by, as him, Changbin and two other pirates start lugging up cannonballs from the hold of the ship and load them into the cannons.

Before he can panic any more, Hyunjin is back, his hands full of weapons.

“Okay, I don’t know your preference, but I brought you a number of things. You look like you’d be a good shot, but just in case, I’ve also brought a cutlass …”

Jisung is just about to reach out, to comment that he can hold his own with any of the weapons Hyunjin is holding out to him, when he’s so suddenly and so violently yanked back that he chokes out a yelp. The first cannon shot from their ship rips through the air as Jisung’s hands scrabble at his collar, trying to pull it a little looser, fighting for his breath, but whoever’s dragging him is too strong, pulling him backwards so fast all he can do is try to stay upright. When he finally manages to twist around, he is met with Lee Minho’s side profile, and his confusion evaporates into scalding anger.

Fucking Minho. Lee Minho, the one person on this ship that has steadfastly refused any and all of Jisung’s attempts to become closer. And it’s not like Jisung needs to be friends with everyone on the ship, it’s just that Minho seems to be; despite his abrasive personality, Minho seems to be getting along with absolutely everyone. And what’s worse is that Minho didn’t just reject his advances, no, Minho left him to flounder, blinking at him emptily or just walking away. It was humiliating, and Jisung hates feeling humiliated.

“Hey, what the fuck!” he yells, choking when Minho drags at his collar even harder.

“Clearly your uncle has sent someone to fetch you,” Minho spits out, and Jisung is just about to scoff and tell him that’s very unlikely, when Minho hauls him upright and slams him against the main mast so hard, Jisung’s skull knocks against the wood.

“Fucking OW, you asshole!” Jisung spits, the world spinning in front of his eyes just long enough for Minho to reach behind him, and before he knows it, there’s a rope tightly wrapped around Jisung��s upper body, his arms trapped by his sides. Panic surges through his veins, and he struggles, struggles with all his might, but try as he might, he can’t stop Minho, who winds the rope around him and the mast once, twice, then again and again, before he pulls a tight knot and steps back, grinning a joyless, self-satisfied grin that makes Jisung’s blood boil.

“What the fuck?!” he hisses breathlessly, and Minho’s eyes narrow.

“Who’s to say you didn’t plan this, hm?” Minho growls, scarily calm, and Jisung’s heart drops. “Who says you didn’t plan for us to capture you, to worm your way into our crew, to learn all about us –“

“What?! No!” Jisung stutters out, desperately. He meets Hyunjin’s eyes over Minho’s shoulder and … his friend, who he was gossiping with just ten minutes ago, is now staring at him, eyes wide, doubt shadowing his entire face. A cannon ball hits the water just short of the ship, but it rings hollow.

“I’m not letting you run back to them and sell us out,” Minho yells, his voice so cold it makes Jisung’s skin crawl, his chest constrict with senseless despair. Some men stop, watch, just look on as he is berated for something he has never even thought of doing. So much for the people on this ship being ‘family’. He blinks away the angry tears rising to his eyes, chases the thought and all the pain it brings away, and focuses instead on the boiling pit of rage deep in his belly. He stokes it, feeds it, until there’s bile in his throat.

“What part of ‘my uncle wants me dead’ did you not understand?!” he yells, his voice a colour of rancour and bitterness that he’s never heard from himself before. It makes Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrow in worry, and Jisung tries not to cling onto it.“Could’ve just been a part

of your scheme,” Minho just shrugs, turns, walks away and Jisung nearly screams in frustration. He can feel all their eyes on him, humiliation boiling in his guts.

“I told you I’m not a good liar,” he yells after Minho, catching Hyunjin’s curious gaze and then, finally, turning to the captain, who’s standing on the forecastle, her pretty face a stony, unreadable mask. Chan fires the cannon again, but she doesn’t even flinch. There’s a distant sound of wood splintering.

“Captain, please,” Jisung pleads. God, he sounds pathetic. “Do you think I’ve been lying to you?”

But the captain gives nothing away, watches Jisung’s heart bleed out on the deck of the ship, and just blinks. And when another cannon shot rings over the water, she briefly turns around in the direction of the coming ship, before she gives Jisung a pained smile.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” she says calmly, and Jisung thinks he can hear a tinge of regret, of uncertainty in her voice. He wishes it wasn’t there.

“But keeping my crew safe is the most important thing. We can’t take any chances. And we’ll keep you safe.”

And then she gestures for everyone to keep preparing and that’s it; Hyunjin gives Jisung one more sad, puzzled look and then follows the motion that breaks out everywhere, hurrying back downstairs to grab more weapons. Chan and Changbin are firing faster now, more frequently, and Hyunjin soon returns with weapons and hands them out. Jeongin is hanging in the sails, his eyes trained on the coming ship, yelling instructions about their approach to Seungmin at the helm, about the number and armaments of their crew to the captain on the forecastle. Jisung is apart from all this, can feel the rope cut into the skin of his hip where his shirt has rucked up, feel his heart thumping in his chest.

As Jisung watches Chan and Changbin load, fire and reload the cannons, he suddenly realises with a shudder that his position against the mast is facing the incoming ship head-on. It’s the side they will board from, the side they will be shooting at – and suddenly, he wonders if Minho is trying to get him killed.

The captain had said they’d keep him safe. She had promised … but maybe Jisung was being naïve again, and it didn’t matter what a pirate promised. His uncle had always said so, said to never trust them because they only worked for their own gain, their own riches. The captain had seemed different, but maybe it was all Jisung’s wishful thinking, his stupidly desperate need for a way out. And then again, he had never trusted Minho. He’d wanted to, had tried so damn hard, only for Minho to shove it back in his face, humiliate him for even trying. Maybe Jisung should’ve taken the hint.When the

cause of all Jisung’s rage suddenly walks past him, Jisung strains against his ties and yells his name. Minho barely stops enough to look at him.

“I’m going to get killed,” Jisung hisses, motioning to the approaching ship with his chin, “I’m going to be right here when they arrive, and I’m going to get fucking killed. You’re going to get me killed.”

Minho stops at that, and walks closer, his eyes as menacing as ever, but Jisung has had enough. He decides right then and there that he will never cower before Lee Minho ever again.

Minho stops so close in front of him, that Jisung has to strain his neck to look up at him. He knows Minho’s doing it on purpose, and the scowl on Jisung’s face deepens, his lips pulling back into a snarl.

Then Minho leans closer, one hand supporting himself on the mast of the ship as he dips down into Jisung’s space so nonchalantly it makes Jisung want to punch him. His body feels like it’s burning up when Minho’s breath fans over his face.

“I won’t let that happen, princess,” Minho purrs with a mean snarl, and the nickname makes something in Jisung’s ribcage crack open. His rage returns with full force, burning deep in his guts in a way he has never felt before.

“I’ll fucking show you ‘princess’, asshole,” he spits and Minho just sizes him up for a second, an infuriating smirk on his face, before he pushes himself away from the mast and Jisung and walks away without another word.

And all Jisung can do is watch, watch him go to the captain who stares at the oncoming ship, eyes flicking to Minho restlessly as he places a calming hand on her shoulder; watch as Chan and Changbin throw him wayward glances every time they pass him to load the cannon, watch everyone on the ship run around, watch Hyunjin handing out weapons to everyone but him because he has been forced to watch and potentially die by the hands of the men he hates the most. Jisung feels thin, sour bile rise in his throat as he watches the enemy ship come closer and closer until it’s finally within boarding distance.

And when it is, the first thing Jisung sees is the face of the man he hoped he would never have to see again. His stomach churns and it’s like the whole world fades for a second, the unbidden memory of the crash of the locks on his door giving way, of the pig’s ugly grimace in the light of the oil lamp next to Jisung’s bed, Jisung’s own panicked breaths ringing through his ears, of thick, dirty fingers wrapped around Jisung’s wrists and then shoved down his pants before Jisung could finally grab hold of the knife underneath his pillow and bury it in the man’s thigh, the rage in his voice when he promised he’d be back ….

The plank hits the wood of the ship and the men, none except the one Jisung knows from ‘his’ ill-fated crew, but all clearly his uncle’s cronies, are ruthless and unhesitating in their assault. One charges at Chan, who can barely get his knife out of its holster before the man’s fist comes flying at his head. Another one heads for the captain, raises his gun to aim at her head, but is interrupted by Minho, cold-blooded murder in his eyes as he rams his knife into the man’s guts and walks him back and overboard.

There’s movement in the corner of Jisung’s eye, and he tries to whip around, but the ropes are cutting just high enough that he can’t, and then he feels a fist collide with his nose. Thankfully, there isn’t a crunch but searing pain and the taste of blood explode on his tongue and he reels back. He tries to blink the world back into focus because his opponent is getting closer and closer and his ears are ringing and his vision swims, but by a lucky break, he manages to land a solid kick to the guy’s groin. The man falters, doubles over, before raising his knife with a grimace of rage and approaching Jisung again, but he gets intercepted by a blur of raven hair.

“Oh no, you don’t” Minho’s voice crackles through the air and then there’s a sickening crunch as Minho’s breaks the man’s arm. Hyunjin is right behind him, whizzing past him and dealing with Jisung’s attacker as Minho approaches Jisung, the eyes that were so full of boiling resentment earlier scanning all over him now with a cold kind of care. Even his demeanour is softer when he approaches and wipes the blood trickling from Jisung’s nose away with his thumb. The touch makes rage and electricity spark all over Jisung’s skin and Jisung jerks away, though he doesn’t know whether it’s the stab of pain or the Minho’s touch he tries to get away from. Minho pulls his hand back as if he’s been burned, blinking at Jisung and throwing a glance towards where the captain is fighting, before he takes a step back.

“Told you I would watch out for you,” he simply says and turns around, bounding away and up the forecastle to cuts off another man approaching his captain. Jisung watches him, how methodically he attacks the man, how he takes him down efficiently and quickly, his eyes on his attackers’ hands and always, always on the captain, and he briefly wonders what it would be like to be defended so fiercely. When he lets his eyes wander, he suddenly makes eye contact with him.

The pig is already staring at Jisung, leering at him when he sees Jisung and a senseless, primal panic shoots through his body, makes his hands claw at the wood of the mast, the rope, anything, trying to escape, but Minho truly outdid himself. The man sneers out a vicious, bilious “hello, princess” and Jisung has to bite back a panicked whimper. The nickname. The voice. Weak, Jisung, his uncle, bellows in his head. Yes, he is, Jisung accepts. He is weak.

“I can’t believe they’ve got you tied up here, for me for the taking,” the man chuckles darkly as he approaches, “not like your uncle wants you back. But I will have my fun with you before I kill you.”

Jisung desperately strains against the rope again, ignores the burn of it breaking the skin on his waist, but he still can’t get out. Fucking Minho. The man comes closer until Jisung can see the dark rot in his teeth, the fetid pink of his cheeks, and his stomach churns.

“I should’ve thought of tying you up first,” the pig goads and a few drops of his drool hit Jisung’s cheek, and it shocks a violent gag from him, “maybe then you wouldn’t have put up such a fight.”

The smell of the man’s breath makes Jisung’s head swim with the memory, and he screws his eyes shut, heaving out another dry gag that makes the man laugh loudly.

“What a pretty sound, princess,” he drawls, and the nausea in Jisung’s belly rises up in one last resistance, like venomous rage. He pries open his eyes, faces him and spits in his face.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jisung hisses, his voice shaky but laced with hatred.

The pig’s shocked face makes way for a grimace of anger, and he raises his hand and Jisung closes his eyes, braces for impact, hopes he can somehow avoid a concussion so he can still run – but the impact never comes. He blinks his eyes open and blinks at the hand that’s still raised, though there are lithe fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist.

“You put one finger on him and I will gut you alive.”

Minho’s voice is calm and cutting, but the pig doesn’t seem to know what’s good for him because he only guffaws out a laugh.

“Ah, I see you’ve already claimed the little whore. I’m sure we can come to an agreement, share his holes before we dispose of him.”

There’s a second of silence, utter, poisonous silence as Jisung watches the expression on Minho’s face go from disdain to putrid hatred and then his hand is wound around the man’s throat, squeezing so hard the pig retches, fights for air, as Minho pushes him away from Jisung.

He shoves him, makes the man stumble backwards, double over, gasping, but Minho doesn’t stop, places his hands square on the man’s shoulders and rams his knee into his face twice. There’s a sickening crunch, then another, and Jisung thrashes against the mast. The rope cutting into his stomach makes him even more nauseous, but he needs to get out.

“Minho, let me go,” he rasps out, loud enough that he knows Minho heard him, but Minho doesn’t move, only drags the pig up and lands his knee into his guts.

“Minho,” Jisung warns, his whole body burning. This is his revenge. How dare he take this from him. “Minho, I swear, let me go.”

But Minho keeps ignoring him.

“Let me GO!” Jisung screams, the last word piercing the air with such ferocious anger that Minho stops in his tracks. “Let me fucking go, Minho, that fucker is mine, he’s fucking mine to gut, let. me. GO.”

Minho stares at him, his usual scowl nowhere to be seen as he blinks, and then he takes one step closer, raises his knife and cuts through the ropes.

Jisung nearly falls from the sudden lack of support, but he catches himself, and gets up, legs shaky and uneven, but when he meets the guy’s eyes, his rage boils over. He wrenches Minho’s cutlass from his hands, ignoring the weak complaint, and stalks towards the man whose face has been haunting him in his sleep for months.

The pig puts up a fight, but he’s sluggish and slow, and he barely gets a punch in before Jisung socks him in his face so hard he stumbles back. Jisung’s body is no longer his own. It’s controlled by blind hatred, a violence so strong it feels almost cleansing, and before he knows it, his fist hits the side of the guy’s skull and his boot hits his balls. The guy wails and Jisung revels in it, adrenaline cursing through his veins when he finally pulls back and sinks the long blade of his cutlass into the man’s stomach. Then he does it again and there’s blood, so much blood, but he doesn’t care. Only stabs him one more time before dragging him to the side of the ship, propping him up just enough so he can look at the man’s rapidly paling, terrified face.

“Go to hell,” Jisung growls before he shoves him enough so he falls off the side of the ship. He stares into the terrified eyes of the man of his nightmares, watches him flail, red clouding the water as he tries to keep himself but failing to. When the waves close over his head and pull him under, it feels like a weight falls off Jisung’s chest and the first breath he takes, no matter how ragged it is, feels like the first breath of relief.

But he can’t stare into the water forever. He avoids Minho’s gaze when he turns around, focuses instead on Hyunjin, desperately defending himself in an uneven fist fight with one of his uncle’s men that he hadn’t yet had the displeasure of meeting, and he takes the few steps towards them, kicks the guy’s knees out from under him so roughly that he crumbles into the deck with a cry of pain. Hyunjin yelps and jumps to the side just in time to avoid the blood when Jisung’s knife sinks deep into the man’s throat. Jisung can feel it seep through his clothes.

When he looks up at Hyunjin, the latter is staring at him wide-eyed. There’s a dark bruise blooming on Hyunjin’s cheekbone, and Jisung grimaces.

“You okay?” he asks and Hyunjin just stares at him for a second, with something in his eyes that Jisung can’t find it in himself to decode, before he nods. Jisung nods back and stalks off, intercepting another asshole and making quick work of him, the balance of the blade in his hand growing on him as he finally lets his brain turn off and just do.

And it doesn’t take long before the last man has been disposed of, the captain’s crew a bloody, bruised mess, but with no casualties on their side. Jisung watches as Changbin looks at the captain, who’s standing in their midst as tall as ever, her demeanour as calm and collected as before the fight, despite her split and bruised lip, the blood caked into her hair. She makes a terrifying picture like this, eyes so sharp they could cut glass, her chest heaving, the muscles in her arm jumping when she sheathes her cutlass.

“Loot and burn it. Look for another one of those maps. Make sure the governor will never find a trace of this ship.”

Changbin nods, bows almost imperceptibly, waves over some more men, and they set to work, boarding the now hauntingly empty ship with their knives drawn.

Jisung doesn’t stay to watch. When he turns around to go, his eyes catch on Minho. For the first time maybe since they met, Minho doesn’t look at him with a scowl or some mask of disdain. No, for the first time, Minho just looks at him, eyes almost curious in the way they crinkle at the edges, his lips pursed uncertainly. Jisung bites back a bitter laugh at the timing of it all, and the flame in his stomach licks up once more, coiling high into his throat as he takes a step towards him.

The clatter of his blood stained knife falling to the floor echoes sharply in the silence of the whole ship watching them. But nobody moves to stop Jisung as he stalks towards Minho, eyes locked onto his, dark anger in his eyes. Nobody moves even when Minho takes a few steps back, his eyes now the ones widening in fear, lighting a small fire of satisfaction in Jisung’s gut.

Nobody moves when Jisung pulls his fist back and punches Minho square in the jaw, the bones in his hand making contact with Minho’s chiseled jawline with a dull thud.

Jisung half expected all hell to break loose, expected to be intercepted or at least held back, taken captive after the fact. He’d accepted it, even, in return for this one opportunity to stand up to him.

But, nothing. Nobody moves to stop him. The whole crew watches as Minho reels back, stumbles, a hand flying to cradle his face. The look of surprise, of pain on Minho’s face is more satisfying than it should be, but Jisung has stopped caring.

He doesn’t look at anyone when he turns, stalks straight towards the big heavy door leading below deck, stumbles down the stairs and through the empty common area and into Felix and his cabin. He locks the door behind himself and then his legs give out and he finally, finally, cries.

He doesn’t know how much time passes like that, his body crumpled on the hard wooden floor of the cabin, the last rays of sunlight streaming through the porthole virtually mocking him as bone wrenching sobs tear through him, tears streaming down his cheeks and leaving darker spots on the already blood-darkened material of his jacket. But at some point, the sobs subside, his body empty and tired and brittle. When his nose clears, all he can smell is the drying blood, and it nearly makes him gag. So he gets up, one hand on the chest of drawers to help him stay upright, and turns around. When he sees himself in the mirror behind the door, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He’s covered in blood, the least of it is his own. A smear of it across his cheek, pale tear tracks running through it, the rest of it on his clothes, rusty red soaked and dried into the white of his shirt, staining the red of his coat an even darker colour. He briefly wonders if it will come out because … Hyunjin made him that coat. His stomach drops a little, makes the nausea worse. Maybe it all won’t matter any more soon.

He wipes a semi clean part of his sleeve over his face with a scoff, tries to hide the worst evidence of his crying, before he gathers his courage and steps out into the hallway.

But he doesn’t meet anyone as he makes his way to the ship’s baths. It seems odd, but he’s beyond questioning it, his chest an empty pit, his eyes red and raw from the panicked sobs that racked through him for a solid hour. He lights the logs that heat up the water, shrugs off his jacket, gingerly, hesitantly throws it into the corner with the laundry where there are other bloodstained shirts and garments and fills one of the three wooden tubs to the brim.

The water scalds his skin a little as he gets in, but he ignores it, welcomes it almost. Much like the rage earlier, the heat feels cleansing, though also equally soothing, the smell of salt and lavender rising from the suds. He ignores the sharp pain of the soap sinking in the rope burns on his hips.

He sits and listens, waits for a sound to come from the outside, but it’s eerily quiet. There must be about 35 other pirates on this ship, all covered in grime and blood, aching for a bath just like him, so he has no doubts now; he’s sure that someone must have told them not to come down here, to give him space. Maybe Hyunjin or Felix. He wishes he knew why.

He’s dead, he thinks. Then again. He’s dead. A tiny, fragile laugh bubbles out of his chest. He’s finally fucking dead. For good. Forever. Never again.

Jisung thinks about it, wonders why this one’s different, but the answer is simple – because all the other ones who had touched him over the years, the ones who had grabbed his ass in the hallways of his father’s house, forced drunken kisses onto him at his uncle’s banquets, none of them had had that look in their face that the pig had when the hinges had finally given way and the door swung open. None of them had looked so entirely bloodthirsty as they approached him …

He shivers, but it’s okay. He's calm. It’s over now.

When he scrubs at his hair, the water turns red and the smell of iron mixes with the steam, and it’s so putrid it makes his stomach turn, so he slowly lifts himself out of the tub. He dresses quietly, his chest awfully empty. He wonders where they all are. Maybe they’re on the deck, talking about what to do with him. He wonders if Minho’s face will bruise because he almost hopes so. Or maybe he’s already with the captain in her quarters …

The captain. Her betrayal hurts the most. It fills him with a deep, searing sense of shame and hurt. He had expected Minho to be cold, to not trust him, after he had rebuked so many of Jisung’s attempt to bridge the gap. But her?

It’s humiliating, but some part of him thought he was … special to her. She had offered him a spot on her crew on that first night, had instructed her men to treat him well, had taken him on even after he’d put his foot in his mouth more than once. She’d held him through his panic attack, looked at him like she understood him, and he’d thought she had … they had – god, he’s stupid. She’d said it then, it was part of her job. He shouldn’t be getting attached, not to a pirate, not to his captain, not to his captain who was probably fucking …

God, he’s so fucking stupid.

The corridors are still deserted, but through the silence, he hears the clatter of plates from the mess, and he realises how late it must be. He briefly wonders if he can get away with not eating, hiding away in his and Felix’s cabin until Felix comes back later, but his stomach growls loudly. And he hates avoiding things. If they were going to shun him, he’d rather know now.

His feet steadily carry him through the living area, though he falters briefly in front of the two big swinging doors, his heart thundering in his chest. He swallows down the fear, tries to steel himself for the worst, and then he pushes open the doors.

Conversation around the room wavers as the men’s eyes fall on him, but before he can think too hard about it, two lithe arms are thrown over his shoulders and long, and he is pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so sorry,” Hyunjin mumbles into his neck, his long black hair tickling Jisung’s cheek and Jisung blinks stupidly, his heart trying to catch up as he wraps his arms around Hyunjin’s waist. He feels himself squeezing him back, his hands trembling where they lie.

Hyunjin squeezes him even harder before he pulls back and looks at him with big, apologetic eyes.

“I’m so sorry. We’re so sorry,” Hyunjin sniffles out and Jisung is speechless, overwhelmed, can only shake his head dumbly.

He lets his eyes flicker over the room and to his surprise, he doesn’t find any hostility or distrust, only … he blinks dumbly. Only awkward regret, hesitant smiles and apologetic looks. Felix comes up to them and peels Hyunjin off Jisung, pulling him closer to their table, where the usual group, except for Chan, is already gathered.

“I’m sorry, Jisung,” Hyunjin rambles, one of his hands latching around Jisung’s arm. “I should’ve known better, I should’ve … said something. But Minho …”

He falters and Felix takes over. Jisung is still frozen in place.

“Minho is … protective of this, of us, of our crew. And usually, his gut feelings are right. But he made a wrong call.”

The scoff claws its way out of Jisung’s chest before he can stop it. The bitterness is noxious.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to him. Like, I know he hates me for some reason, but I didn’t think he would try to get me killed.”

The doors to the mess swing open and Jisung doesn’t even have to turn around to know who it is when he sees Felix’s face darken, his eyebrows drawing together as he looks over Jisung’s shoulder and tugs him closer. The looks of disapproval and the dead silence around the room should make Jisung feel elated, should make him feel vindicated, but when he turns around sees the look on Minho’s face, he almost feels … bad.

There’s a big, purple bruise on his jaw where Jisung’s fist had landed. He stares back at the room full of scowls with a pale uncertainty that Jisung has never seen on him, hell, never thought he would be capable of. It’s such a far cry from his usual grouchy arrogance that it’s almost scary. When Minho turns and finally makes eye contact with Jisung, still wedged between Hyunjin and Felix, Felix’s arm around his shoulders and Hyunjin’s hand on his arm, his eyes are hazy.

He takes one almost step, before he stops himself, grimacing as he squares his shoulders and fixes Jisung with an uneven look, one that wavers away from him after not even a second. His usually cutting voice floats through the air uncertainly, though Jisung can tell he’s doing his best to keep it steady.

“The captain wants to see you. On the deck.”

And with that, he turns and escapes into the kitchen. Jisung turns back to Hyunjin and Felix with a thousand questions on his face. But Felix only gives Jisung a reassuring squeeze before gesturing to the door. Even Hyunjin only nods at him and pushes him towards the door. And Jisung goes, almost as in a trance, but he throws a glance back before they close behind him. He sees Felix and Hyunjin watching him go, regretful smiles on their faces. Through the windows in the door to the kitchen, he sees Minho’s slumped over form over the kitchen counter. For a brief second, he wonders if this will be the last time he’ll see them. He blinks away the fist closing around his heart and takes the steps up to the deck two at a time before his courage fails him.

The clear night air, the chilly breeze that blows, it nearly knocks him off his feet, rushing into his lungs like a cold drink of water. He looks up at the sky, clear, full of stars. Beautiful, all the way out here, so many bright little glimmers, bunched together and winking at him like they always have, always will. He thinks he can hear Jeongin’s voice somewhere above him, singing softly, and then someone says his name.

The captain is sitting on the railing to Jisung’s left, a dark brown bottle in her hands. As Jisung walks closer, he sees how tired she looks. Her hair is still a little damp from where she presumably had to also wash blood out of it, and instead of her usual heavy coat, she’s wearing some kind of thick knitted jacket. She looks … nice like this, Jisung can’t help but think. Softer.

He stops a few feet in front of her and knits his fingers together in front of him. She just looks at him for a few seconds before she sighs and pats the spot next to her.

He sits gingerly, awkwardly, preoccupied as he is with trying to keep a reasonable distance between them. He doesn’t know how to deal with her touching him today. She offers the bottle to him wordlessly, and he takes it, taking a deep drink, swallowing the burning alcohol down without even flinching. It feels weird on his painfully empty stomach, but in the same theme of things, it also feels cleansing. Jeongin’s voice floats down from above them more clearly now. His voice is soft, full of emotions, a fluttering, beautiful thing in the night.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles to himself before he can stop it.

The captain laughs, small and shy.

“Isn’t it? I come out here a lot at night, just to hear him sing. I don’t even know if he knows.”

There it is again, Jisung thinks, her unwavering love for this, this life, this ship, this crew. He wants so badly to be enveloped by it, too, that it makes him look a fool. Jeongin’s song ends, and Jisung shivers.

“I’m sorry,” the captain says suddenly, and Jisung sucks in a breath. He doesn’t lift his eyes, doesn’t trust himself to. He takes another swig of rum, longer this time. It still burns, but his stomach feels like it’s going numb now.

The captain still hesitates, and Jisung nervously picks at the remnants of the label on the bottle.

“I’m sorry for today. I made … a wrong call. A very wrong call.”

Jisung scoffs.

“Technically, Minho did.” The captain laughs humourlessly, extends her hand towards the bottle and Jisung hands it to her, hates how his heart flutters in his chest when her fingers brush over his. She takes a long drink, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, but I didn’t stop him,” she says quietly, “because usually, Minho’s gut feelings are right, so I don’t oppose him. But today, I should’ve.”

Jisung shrugs, his heart aching in his chest.

“No, don’t do that,” the captain sighs and Jisung, in his surprise, lifts his head and looks at her. There’s a tortured smile on her face. “Don’t pretend like it’s okay. It’s not. I … I didn’t think you would go back to them, I didn’t think you could’ve lied to us all. And I should’ve said something. I promised you we’d keep you safe, that we’re family, and then I just left you there.”

A traitorous tear spills from Jisung’s eyes before he can stop it, and he wipes it away quickly with a quiet fuck.

The captain reaches out, her fingers wrapping around Jisung’s arm, and Jisung freezes, both from the suddenness and the gentle authority that seems to flow from her hands through a touch as simple as that.

“Don’t do that, either. I like seeing how you feel,” she says quietly and Jisung blinks stupidly, the tears clearing to reveal her face and … god, the softness in her gaze on him, her features bathed in moonlight – the longing hits him square in the chest, takes his breath away for a second.

But it passes, fizzles out into a moment of silence and Jisung weighs his next words for a while, before he decides to just ask. If there’s anyone who can give him an answer, it’s her. A bitter thought.

“Why does he hate me?”

The captain doesn’t ask who.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he hates you, he just … doesn’t understand you, doesn’t know what to do with you.”

Jisung just nods absentmindedly. Not like understands Minho any better.

“He wouldn’t have let you get killed,” the captain adds after a few seconds of silence. She sounds hesitant. “He didn’t want you getting hurt, either. He really beat himself up about that guy punching you when he wasn’t looking. That’s how I know he doesn’t hate you. He wouldn’t have done that for someone he hates.”

Jisung sighs and nods and takes the bottle the captain is holding out in his direction again. He throws his head back and takes a long drink that he swallows without looking at her. After a few more seconds of silence, the captain gets up. Jisung tries not to feel too disappointed. He thinks he could’ve sat with her like this all night.

“I …” she starts and stops, running her hand through her hair nervously. Jisung wishes he could reach out, soothe her nerves, just like she had done with him that day on this very same deck. “I don’t usually do this because, frankly, it’s fucking stupid and could get me and my crew killed, but you seem to keep making me make these decisions …”

She trails off before she gestures over to her left. Jisung follows her eyes.

“I’m giving you an out. There’s a boat. In it, there’s a compass and more than enough rations to last you for the two days it should take you to reach the nearest port. You’ll probably make it just fine.”

Jisung stares from the boat to her, stupidly. He wonders if he would see her blush if it wasn’t so dark.

“I … wish you wouldn’t leave, if I can be honest, but I know it’s too much to ask you to trust us again, after what happened today. And I’d rather take this risk than force you to stay with us if you don’t trust us. So I will take my leave now, and you can make up your mind and if you’re gone in the morning then … well, I hope our paths will cross again. Goodbye, Jisung.”

Jisung watches her turn, wrapping her cardigan closer around herself. It doesn’t take him longer than a few of her steps to know what he wants.

He catches up with her by the heavy door, takes one awkward step forward and grasps the knob before she can. He swings the door open, gives her a sheepish smile, before he motions for her to go through. She breathes out a disbelieving chuckle at his sudden moment of gentlemanly chivalry, and heat rises to his cheeks before he can stop it. But she doesn’t say anything, only walks through the door he holds open and hesitates where the path divides, looking at Jisung with that gaze again, the one that makes him feel like he's paper thin, his soul laid bare.

He gives her the best smile he can muster.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says quietly, but resolutely. “Goodnight, captain.”

And with a little bow, his heart beating in his throat, he turns on his heels and makes his way to the stairs leading to his cabins.

< chapter III - chapter V (coming: friday, april 5, 3pm CET) >

series masterlist // skzms masterlist // kofi

🔖 series taglist and general taglist open! be 18+ and have your age in bio when you ask to be added

#oh my god the dynamics between minsung really did a whole 180 #captain has SUCH a soft spot for ji we love to see it #i was surprised that min just let it all happen tho #I thought this man had way too much pride for his own good #i am now wondering whose relationship with ji is gonna develop sooner #captains or mins???#in love with this series #thank you so much mayy😽

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hanichani · 1 month

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to all my darlings that sent in a request, i promise i’ll get to it but i do my have exam period rn so please bear with me😭

#hanichani rants

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hanichani · 1 month

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Hii

Can you do drunk texts with best friend stray kids where reader confesses and tells them the nsfw things they want skz to do to them. Take your time and thank you in advance

smau (pt. 1): stray kids reaction to…

scenario: …you telling them what you want them to do to you while being drunk

pairing: best friend!stray kids (hyung line) x reader

warnings: mature!!, explicit talk about sexual fantasies, mentions of alcohol consumption

author‘s note: thank you very much for this ask!! i really enjoyed preparing this smau for you guys, let me know what you think. the maknae line post can be found on my page. likes/reblogs/comments are very much appreciated! and as always: reqs are still open. have fun.<3

bang chan<3

lee know<3

changbin<3

hyunjin<3

#chan’s is so accurate wtf #I actually feel like he would say all of that #teeeheeeee

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hanichani · 1 month

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Drunk texting bestfriend!stray kids (hyung line) pt 2

Stray kids x reader

part 1

Summary: basically what happens when they come pick you up

Warnings: consumption of alcohol; a little bit suggestive, but mostly fluff, because Y/N is super drunk and our consensual kinks don’t take advantage of that

Bang Chan

When Chan arrived he couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. You were sitting in front of the building, heels chaotically discarded next to you. You were sort of sitting in a fetal position, your upper body resting on your own legs. You were barley holding on to your purse in one and your phone in the other hand and your once properly neatly pinned up hair was now all over the place, hanging in your face and mostly laying on your back and shoulders. He slowly approached you, quietly as not to scare you. You still jumped and yelped when his hand carefully touched your shoulder and he shook your body. “Y/N?” You looked up and his worried expression softened at your big puppy eyes and smudged mascara. “Hi there.” He whispered, his hand softly touching your cheek. “Hi” you drunkenly smiled. “C’mon let’s get you home” Chan held his hand out and you shakily took it. Once you stood steadily he picked up your heels and your pursue and phone which in the process of standing up fell from your hand. Luckily he turned around quick enough to see you falling over and stopping your body with his. Your head was now rest on his chest, your hands loosely hanging down. “Channie” you slurred “kiss me.” Chan smiled but shook his head, brushing through your hair. “No, baby girl. You’re drunk.” Your hands landed on his chest so you could push yourself off of him. When you looked up at him he had to suppress a laugh. Your angry drunk pout was just too cute to be taken serious. “You-“ you were interrupted by your own hiccup “You just cock blocked me.” You hit him with your pointer finger when saying you “Because you were jealous! And now-“ hiccup again “And now I want your cock instead.” You innocently blinked. Chan gulped and bit his lip. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon enough. When you’re sober.” For now he just opted with kissing your forehead and helping you in the car with his hand respectfully resting between your shoulder blades and your hip.

Lee Minho

Minho got out of the car and already knew it wouldn’t be easy to get you out of the bar when he couldn’t immediately see you. Usually you’d obediently be already waiting for him. He huffed, rolling his eyes when he entered the bar. He immediately spotted you sitting literally on the bar, swirling your hair and flirting with the bartender. Hw huffed once again. Pathetic. He pushed his way through the drunk crowd and came to a halt right in front of you, resting his hands on either sides of your thighs, you jumped at the soft touch. Your head snapped in his direction, your face scrunched in anger. Surprisingly your expression didn’t change when you saw him. You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re not going to get me out of here!” He nodded. “Okay, so I’m just gonna stay here and wait for you.” Your eyes widened “No! You’re not going to play baby sitter!” You slurred a little which made him grab the drink in your hand and empty it out in the sink behind the bar. Your mouth opened in shock. “What the fuck? What is wrong with you?” You angrily said. His eyebrow raised and he smirked. “Come home with me. There I won’t have to play baby sitter.” You whined “Minho. Let me have fun. I just wanna make out with someone!” Suddenly he leaned in so close you could feel his breath on your face. “Make out with me.” He bit his lip and your breath hitched. “You wouldn’t-“ his hands wandered from the sides of your thighs up to the hem of your dress and played with it, his eyes never leaving yours. “You know I would. I just need you to get out of here and sober up and I promise you can make out with me any time from now on. And more.” As if you were hypnotized you nodded and hopped off the bar which led to you being really close to him, your bodies pressed together. His hands wandered up to your face and be cupped it in them, his thumbs brushing your face. “Let’s go.” He whispered and you nodded again “Let’s go.”

Seo Changbin

You were nervously waiting behind the club. You had turned the guy down the moment Changbin told you he was on his way and since he didn’t give up and followed you everywhere you went to the bathroom and climbed out the window, hoping Changbin would find you there. Then there was the sound of a car coming to a halt and hurried steps. “Y/N?!” You quickly looked up and noticed your best friend approaching you. “Aren’t you freezing? Where’s your jacket?” You awkwardly smiled at him, cringing at what you said next “I may or may not had to climb out the bathroom window.” You slurred and his eyes widened “Why?” He said while examining your body with gentle hands and attentive eyes. You took his wandering hands in yours and he finally looked you in the eyes. “I turned him down and when he wouldn’t leave me alone I fled. Please tell me, it was worth it.” He shyly smiled and put both of your hands on your face. “It was worth it, Y/N. You were right I was jealous. Not because I wanna pick up someone and have sex with them as well but because-“ you interrupted him by letting your hands slide down his arms squeezing his biceps “you wanna have sex with me?” His eyes darkened for a second but he shook his head. “So much more than that. I want to treat you right. Not only in bed but in general.” You face heated up and you bit your lip. “That’s really attractive, Binnie. Kiss me?” He leaned in, brushing your hair out of your face. Suddenly you pulled off with wide eyes rushing away from him. And then you threw up all over the side walk. Changbin gasped and rushed to your side, holding your hair. “Oh God” you whined between gulps” this is so embarrassing.” He laughed “Don’t act like I haven’t seen you throw up before or held your hair.” You just shook your head “This is different, your my boyfriend now.” His heart jumped at that and he smiled like a school boy. “Yes that’s right, I am.”

Hwang Hyunjin

The first thing Hyunjin notices was your exposed body almost passed out hovering over some random guy. Due to the state of the guys shoes he guessed he was the one from your naughty photo. At least he didn’t leave you Hyunjin thought. But he could definitely do a better job covering you up. “Hey.” Hyunjin coldly said “I got it from here.” The man looked at him. “Hey dude, this chick is like super clingy, gotta get her off from me.” Hyunjin visibly cringed at him while sitting next to the two of you carefully grabbing you by the waist and manoeuvring you onto him. “She’s also super drunk, think she’s still gonna want me once she’s conscious?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at that. “No she won’t. Piss off now.” The guy defensively raised his hands and left, almost falling over. “Hyunjin?” You weakly said. “Hey, princess, I’m here.” You smiled up at him. Or more tried to but the alcohol got to your head again and you gulped. Luckily you didn’t throw up again. You groggily rested your body on his and muttered “can we sit down for a s-second.” Hyunjin chuckled “we are sitting down, princess.” When you didn’t say anything he carefully pulled his jacket off and wrapped you in it. After almost 15 minutes of complete silence with you napping on him, Hyunjin decided it was time to go and without a warning picked you up like a child. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. Like this he stepped to the car and opened the door with one hand while holding you steady with the other. Slowly he ducked down and carefully sat you down in the passenger seat. He even put a hand, once it was free, on your head and whispered “careful don’t bump your head on the roof.” You drunkenly giggled and took both his hands immediately yours and pulled him down to you when he wanted to close the door. “Hyune” you hiccuped “are you really here because you don’t want me to regret anything in the morning?” His eyebrows tightened and he looked away. Encouraged by his behaviour you continued “Or are you here because you felt jealous?” Hyunjin smirked and instead of saying anything closed the door and walked to the driver’s seat. The car started and after driving a few seconds you smiled widely and looked at him with excitement in your eyes “So you wanna fuck me?” He choked on his own spit and gripped the wheel tighter as to not lose control. He had to remind himself of your overly drunk state. “It’s okay, Hyunjinnie. I wanna fuck you too.” You giggled. He shook his head a little bit and chuckled “Tell me that again when you’re sober and I might just fuck you first thing in the morning.”

I originally wanted to post this yesterday but Hyunjins part took me little longer than expected… tell me what you think please, I’m not sure how I feel about this haha

Maknae line pt 1 coming tomorrow!’

#channie and lee knows part made me blush #i want them so bad oh my god

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hanichani · 1 month

Note

Hi hi!! you wanted text fix requests yesterday but I only saw it now so 😝! Imagine how cute it would be if SKZ members accidentally confessed to reader by like ranting to reader (when they thought it was another member) about how the reader did some mundane thing that made their heart race 😭 like accidentally brushing hands or like the reader sneezed cutely or something ?? Love your text fics and have a good night!!!

skz accidentally confesses

cw: mentions of mature content MDNI, skz being embarrassed, fem reader, fluff, crack, swearing

a.n - thank you for reading my fics !! i loved this request and i love you <3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

ᴄʜᴀɴ

ʟᴇᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ

ᴄʜᴀɴɢʙɪɴ

ʜʏᴜɴᴊɪɴ

ᴊɪsᴜɴɢ

ғᴇʟɪx

sᴇᴜɴɢᴍɪɴ

ᴊᴇᴏɴɢɪɴ

tags: @godslino @skzstarnet @seungseung-minmin @anakin-sweetheart

#this is adorable

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hanichani · 2 months

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hii!! could u do a skz (preferably i.n or ot8) when they have an idol!so and they reveal their relationship??

hi anon!! i tried to make this kind of as realistic as possible but at the same time i feel like jyp would never let this happen so this is what i came up with😭

Pairing: ot8 x gn!idol!reader Genre: fluff, a tiny bit angsty i guess Warnings: none that i could think of, everyone's stressing Word count: 1,3k

i hope you like it <3 (sorry it took so long)

Channie

realistically, i don’t think chan would want to reveal the relationship up until after the peak of their career if ever. i feel like he’s just too tied down by all the responsibilities he has towards the company. but i also think that out of all of the other members he would do the best at consoling you if you ever wanted to go public and he told you no. he would feel so bad but it’s just something he knows he can’t risk. and a big part of why he wouldn’t do it is that he’s afraid you’d receive hate so he’s really just trying to protect you and your career.

if the relationship ever got leaked, boy would have to do so much damage control. even if it’s accepted by everyone and actually somehow boosts your careers and only has good outcomes. mans would be out there writing apology letters like “hi, this is stray kids’ bang chan and i’m so sorry i lied to you all about my relationship.” like it’s not his private business.

Lee know

lee know would throw in little quips and hints during things like skz code and stuff. do you know how he talked about the friend he went to japan with and said he was his boyfriend? he’d do that with you as well. pretend that he’s joking and when they’re all asked about your group he’d say “yea, we hung out once. they’re actually my partner now.” and then do the little :] smile. hannie would obviously throw in a little “what about me?” and then the whole mention about your relationship goes unnoticed. but he would try to slowly get there through hints.

if this relationship ever got leaked, he’d come over that same day with the biggest smile on his face. i feel like he’d genuinely be happy and i think someday, down the line, he’d confirm it on his own by sending a not the most flattering picture of you surrounded with his cats to bubble. for which you’d scold him later.

Changbin

i feel like changbin would really want to tell EVERYONE. like, he’s so proud to be your boyfriend and he wants to tell the world. but he knows he can’t. he would also just mention you during skz talker and stuff. i think he’d show the camera a video of you doing a dance trend or something and be like “waaah, aren’t they so talented?” meanwhile in his head he’s also adding “and they’re all mine”.

he’s happy as well when the relationship gets leaked. is even happier that it happens around the time of your new comeback because now he can do your dance challenge with you and not feel weird about it. wouldn’t address it but in his next vlog, he tells the staff not to blur you out anymore. (which i know that they don’t really post vlogs anymore BUT BINNIE’S WERE MY FAVORITE AND I MISS THEM OKAY)

Hyunjin

feel like hyune would be STRESSED when you first bring up the idea of going public. he’d tell you that he’ll think about it but is probably the most open to it. he’d have a meeting about it with the higher ups and you would too but it would be a while before they actually allowed you to do it.

when it does happen, i think it would just be him posting pictures from a versace event and then the last picture would be the two of you together. your back pressed against his chest, his hand placed over your stomach and your hand reaching back to hold his face while looking at each other. you’d obviously be wearing your versace outfits and the caption would be something like “thank you donatella, me and my y/n enjoyed the event so much”. safe to say stays go crazy and your fandom does as well.

Jisung

i think hannie wouldn’t be comfortable revealing it but we all know boy has a big mouth. i think he’d just leak his own relationship tbh. yk how sometimes he just speaks poems about how he’s so fond of minho? one question asked about you and he’s spilling on air. “ah y/n? yeah, i’ve never met anyone as hard working… well, except for my members. yeah, they’re just so amazing and we match so well, you know. it was honestly like out of a fairytale. i mean, um… like… you know, like the friendship?” and then chan is jumping into the conversation and changing the topic, thank god for his leader.

he’d be terrified after but you’re there to calm him down. at some point you get asked about it in an interview and you decide to just clear it up. “did you hear what stray kids’ han said about you the other day?” the interviewer asks. “ah yeah. adorable, wasn’t he? i have to say, it really was like out of a fairytale. it might sound corny but we just clicked so well, you know.” you smile and wave into the camera, mouthing a hi baby because you just know that he’s going to watch this interview the moment it comes out. (chan is beyond stressed because of you two)

Felix

lixie would love the idea of going public but he would be too scared of the consequences i think. feel like it would be similar to hyunjin because he would want you at all of his events and at some point the fans start to be like…hmm is it a coincidence that they always appear together at the same events. but obviously that’s not enough to just assume that you’re both dating.

at some point lix accidentally sends the wrong picture to bubble and it’s a picture where you’re cuddled together in bed and you’re kissing his cheek. he meant to send the one of him alone that he took when you went to the bathroom. he’s freaked out but then he just kind of accepts it and is happy because so much pressure has just been taken off his shoulders. the next picture of the two of you that appears on bubble is sent intentionally with a bunch of light blue hearts.

Seungmin

seungmin would absolutely NOT want to reveal the relationship. he has a reputation to uphold as the grumpy one. that’s what he says but really he’s just too scared of the reactions and feedback. he doesn’t mind getting hate, he feels used to that but he doesn’t want you to receive it. he’s also worried that people would put you down for dating him out of everyone else. this leads to you both having a looong conversation where he starts sobbing at some point because he does feel insecure but he never lets himself feel those things unless it’s with you.

this in turn makes him realize that you are very important to him and now he’s even more conflicted. should he tell everyone that you’re his or should he work even harder to protect your relationship. in the end, he decides to let you make the decision. he’s happy with whatever you choose as long as you’re by his side.

Jeongin

i think innie would actually be the one to bring this up with you. after they all get their instagrams, hyunjin gets his piercing and the company lets more loose in general, he feels that it could go through. so he brings it up with jyp and gets the green light (which is not realistic at all but let’s pretend for the sake of this drabble).

i know that innie doesn’t do the ootd posts anymore but i think it would be so cute if he revealed it through that. he would post an ootd post and then on some of the pictures you’re there as well. just a power couple posing together. and then also, some of the more observing fans would notice that hey, isn’t that innie’s shirt that y/n was wearing in their new post. and hey isn’t that the same bag that y/n has in jeongin’s new post? it’d just be really cute because you’d both be so excited about it and flaunting it.

a/n: requests are open by the way!!!

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hanichani · 2 months

Text

🌊 ೃ‧₊◜ sea may rise, sky may fall chapter I

summary: fate delivers you han jisung on a silver platter – he's the key to finally taking down your worst enemy, his uncle, the governor Han Yujun. You're ready to force what you need out of him by any means necessary, but it quickly becomes clear that you might not have to.

word count: 8k words

author's note: oh my god!! it's here!! this series has been in the works for 4 months and has its origin in this ask my love @stayconnecteed sent me. the beginning is even still similar, though I did edit it, so I recommend reading it again, even if you're familiar. this is a big story, about love, yes, but also about trauma and chosen family and how to go on despite it all. and I hope you will love them all as much as I do. but enough waffling, here we go!!!!

warnings: mentions of physical violence, mentions of past sexual assault. if either of these things are big triggers for you, please note these will be themes in this story. heed the series warnings in the masterlist!

this series is 🔞, so minors, please DNI

series masterlist // skzms masterlist

<- epigraph - chapter II (coming march 15, 3pm CET) ->

It doesn't make sense. It's all you can think as you drag your tired eyes over the same perfectly drawn, painstakingly decorated map over and over again. One of your own, Seungmin’s own, always impeccable handiwork, one that looked similar, but just not the same lies abandoned to your left.

"Penny for your thoughts, Captain?"

You had forgotten he was still here. When you look up, his feline eyes are boring into yours, deep and dark and permeating. He was too attractive for his own good, standing there with his hips cocked to the side, his white shirt half undone, wiping the leftover grime and blood from his bruised knuckles.

“Nothing, just wondering if I’m missing something,” you murmur, your eyes falling back down to the paper in front of you. The wood of the ship creaks, the floor swaying under your feet. It was going to be a stormy night.

Minho sighs, dropping the bloodied and dirty rag onto the floor, which you send him a dirty glare for. But he leaves it there, instead rounding the big, heavy table to stand behind you.

His hands slide over your hips confidently but gently, caressing your hip bones before sliding up to wrap around your waist. Then he steps closer, presses his solid chest against your back, hooking his chin over your shoulder to look down at what you're seeing. One of his hands slips under the material of your shirt, runs over your skin in a way that makes your focus slip. But the frustration persists.

"This map seems like nonsense," you sigh out, turning the strange map over again. "Maybe that bloodbath today was for nothing."

The bloodbath that was the hijacking of a government ship from the man you’ve been trying to take down for years. You had killed them all, except for a handful of them, sending them sailing north in their shoddy lifeboats.

Minho scoffs behind you as his hand splays over your lower belly and presses you closer against his body.

"Then we still got to off some of those government pigs, that's a win in my book," he grumbles out darkly before he presses a wet kiss to the side of your neck. "Plus, we still have him."

Right. Him.

Minho's lips drag over your neck gently, sensually, soft and hot, making heat pool deep in your abdomen. His hands caress your body, and you can feel him starting to fill out against your ass. You know where this is leading, but you have work to do yet.

"Tell Chan to get him."

Minho's lips stop their journey over your skin with the barest perceptible sigh before he makes his way over to the door, sticking his head out to speak to the man standing sentry in front of your office. You may be fucking your second in command, but he still would never dare disobey captain's orders. Minho's good like that; otherwise you would've never let him get this close to you.

Chan's heavy footsteps disappear down the corridor and Minho closes the door softly, makes his way back over to you. His hands come back to your hips, squeezing the flesh softly.

"Any plans for the questioning? Should I get the kit?"

You raise an eyebrow at him.

"He's the governor's nephew, I doubt we need to resort to physical violence to get him to speak."

Minho smirks at you, visibly pleased that he finally has your attention because he leans in slightly, rubbing his nose over your cheek.

"Oh, we'll break him so quickly," he whispers with a dark smile. He's staring down at your lips as he pulls you closer, tentatively brushing his lips against yours at first, as if to see if you'll pull away, before he finally kisses you properly. Parting your lips, you swallow the little moan that falls from his lips when your tongue slides against his. But the kiss is cut short when heavy footfall and angry voices sound from the hallway. Minho pulls away reluctantly. He swipes some spit off the corner of your mouth with his thumb, but doesn't move his hand from where it’s resting against your waist, even as the door opens. It's an open secret, the fact that he's closer to you than even a second in command should be, though nobody dares acknowledge it.

Occasionally, Minho liked to stake his claim like this – and you let him. After all, Minho was also known as the man who would carve the skin from any man's bones if they so much as dared to look at you the wrong way.

The door slams open, revealing Chan and Changbin, their faces angry as they drag in a bundle of green silk and floppy brown hair. The young man is cursing and thrashing around wildly, throwing insults with a surprising venom, until his eyes fall on you and Minho. He falters slightly, eyes blinking rapidly, before they narrow again, and he goes back to kicking out.

"I suggest we tie this one to a chair, he's feral," Changbin spits out, and you just nod, gesturing for them to proceed. Minho's thumb rubs smooth circles over your hipbone. It’s a soothing action, entirely at odds with the chaos in front of you. Sometimes you wonder how he does it.

"Get your hands off me, you brutes," the young man snarls as Changbin shoves him down onto a chair. Chan kneels down to secure his leg, but the guy kicks out, the tip of his expensive brown leather boot almost catching Chan in the chin.

Within seconds, Minho disappears from your side, walks over and cracks the back of his hand across the man's round cheek, making his head snap to the side. He freezes like that before he lifts his head and stares up at Minho, eyes wide in shock, blinking up at him through a curtain of his hair. You think you see Minho hesitate, before he turns around and walks back to your side. But it seems to have taken some wind from his sails because he stops resisting so much, only haphazardly tugging at his restraints as Chan and Changbin finish tying him down.

A bright red hand mark remains on the man's cheek where Minho struck him, and you can't help but think that it's almost a shame to deface such a pretty face.

Because that's what the man is. Pretty. Soft brown, mid-length hair that falls a little past his ears, falling over his big, dark eyes constantly, which seems to irk him because he keeps tossing his head to get it out of the way. His cheeks are round, look like they would be soft to the touch, and his lips are pink and plump and small and almost constantly pursed into a pout of disapproval.

And he's dressed well: a green silk coat, that probably cost as much as the ship you just sank, draping over his wide shoulders. He wears nothing but a simple white tank underneath it, exposing honeyed skin stretching over defined collarbones. There's a little silver cross dangling from his neck.

"Fucking finally," Chan curses out as he secures the last knot.

"Thank you. You may leave," you say, your voice as calm and collected as ever. Chan and Changbin nod and plod out of the room. When the door falls closed, there's silence.

"You're the captain?" the man asks, surprise on his face. Your eyes narrow. Oh, great. Another one.

"I am. Is that a problem?" you ask, icily, and feel Minho's hand sneak around your waist. The man's eyes follow the movement, too, and then a faint blush creeps up his neck. He shakes his head.

"Now," you say as you slowly make your way around the big desk, leaning yourself against it and crossing your arms as you keep an eye on the man in front of you. Minho follows you, coming to stand a few feet next to you, hand on the handle of his knife.

"What is your name?"

"Han," the man mumbles out, "Han Jisung."

The name confirms it. You really did somehow manage to abduct Han Yujun’s nephew. Jackpot. You don’t even try to hide the triumphant grin that tugs at your lips. It seems to unsettle him.

"How’s your uncle?" you ask casually and the man, Jisung, narrows his eyes.

"How would I know? He put me on that stupid ship weeks ago, even though I told him it was a bad idea. But he never listens, does he," Jisung rambles, his eyebrows knitted together. You throw a glance at Minho, who looks back at you, perplexed. This may turn out to be your easiest job yet.

"Why was it a bad idea?" you ask gently, taking a step closer to Jisung. He’s still scowling, a dangerous glint in his eyes that’s entirely at odds with the way he’s rambling, seemingly without a filter.

"B-because I hate him. I hate him and his stupid cronies who always touch my ass and his corrupt fucking government. Like, do you have any idea how many people are starving in our city?"

He's still rambling when you slowly crouch down in front of him. The fact that you're suddenly below his eye level makes Jisung’s monologue stutter to a halt. He exhales a shaky breath."If you hate it

all so much, why are you sitting in front of us dressed in green silk?" you purr and Jisung's pink lips part slightly. It’s a bait question, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He tugs at his restraints, and the movement makes Minho take a cautious step closer to you. But there’s no real intent behind his movements.

"Well, I still had a ship to commandeer, a reputation to uphold. The men already didn't respect me. Had to lock my door every night, and they still tried to break it down …"

You can feel Minho fidget next to you.

"Did you not have a second-in-command?" Minho snarls out from beside you, and Jisung looks up at him, a cynical smile on his face. "Sent him over the gangplank on day three because he assaulted me. It's just been me ever since."

You watch carefully as Minho scoffs, affecting indifference, but you don’t miss the way his knuckles turn white on the handle of his knife.

You look at Minho and Minho looks at you, and a wordless moment later, Minho leans down into Jisung's space. Jisung sucks in a breath and straightens his back, trying to move away as Minho leans closer and closer. Minho supports his hand on the chair behind Jisung's back and watches closely as Jisung blinks up at him and then throws you a panicky glance.

"Are you gonna kill me?" he whispers, his eyes big and round and watery.

You chuckle and Minho's lips curl into a devious smile.

"We won't kill you," you say. "Instead, I'd like to make you an offer." Minho stands back up and Jisung’s body relaxes slightly, though he stays alert, shifting uncertainly when Minho starts pacing around him.

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, I’m sorry to disappoint, but my uncle will probably not even bail me out. A tragedy in the family would play right into his campaign right now,” Jisung says bitterly, his lips pulled into an ironic snarl, “or he would bail me out only to drown me in the harbour.”

You raise an eyebrow, cocking your head to the side as you watch Jisung for any sign of a lie. Though, again, there is none. Strange boy.

“Just how much do you hate your uncle?” you ask quietly, and Jisung’s snarl deepens.

“More than you can even imagine. And he hates me just as much.”

You blink at him for a beat before you decide to take the leap. You stand up. Jisung’s eyes follow you up automatically.

“I want to offer for you to join us,” you say calmly, and Jisung freezes, staring at you with wide eyes. “If you hate your uncle as much as you say you do, and you’re really that against what he’s doing, then you’re on the right ship. We’ve been working to take him down for years.”

Jisung’s face gives nothing away as he ponders your offer, and you realise you may have underestimated him slightly. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Minho shift his weight from one foot to the other. So he’s feeling it, too.

“And what if I don’t? Want to join you, I mean,” Jisung asks carefully, and you smile at him and shrug, but you can feel the darkness swirl in your chest. You let some of it filter into your smile, and Jisung tenses in response. Perceptive. Definitely underestimated him.

“Then you can rot in our cell until we dock at our next safe harbour in about two months. And we’ll see if we can get some money out of your uncle, what he does with you after, I don’t care,” you say casually and look up at Minho who’s smiling at you. There’s a dark glint to his eyes that you know all too well.

“And if your uncle doesn’t pay, I’m sure someone else will. Pretty boy like you should fetch an equally pretty price,” Minho adds, looking down at Jisung with an eery smile, as his eyes flit all over the younger man’s flushed face.

You know Minho is bluffing, but Jisung doesn’t, and his pokerface is slipping now, his red cheeks not helping his case as his eyes race around the room like he’s trying to weigh his options. You decide to let him stew in it for a bit.

“Chan!” you yell, relishing in the way Jisung nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden sound. Chan walks in and you motion towards Jisung vaguely.

“Han Jisung, take your time to think over our offer. When you’ve decided, let Chan know, and he’ll arrange for us to see each other again. Otherwise, I will see you in two months, to hand you off to the highest bidder.”

You have to rip your eyes away from the spectacle that is Jisung’s flushed, panicked face and nod at Chan.

“Take him back to his cell.”

Chan complies, untying Jisung’s feet from the chair. This time, the young man doesn’t fight it, just sits there, his brows furrowed, his eyes trained on you, and it’s like you can see the gears turning in his head. He’s still staring at you as Chan tugs him to his feet and drags him to the door.

You wait for the footsteps to fade down the hall before you turn to Minho. He’s already looking at you.

“Do you think that offer is a mistake?” you ask him, and he purses his lips, thinks for a second. Then he shakes his head.

“I think the boy’s got nowhere else to go,” he responds, “and isn’t that how most of us found our way here?”

He gives you a crooked smile, eyes trailing over your face, and you remember the first time you met Minho.

It was a stormy day, brutal winds, howling around the sails, whipping ice-cold drops of rain into your freezing face. You were ambushed, stupidly, all your fault, really, getting into strange waters during a storm like this. As so often, Jeongin and his perfect eyesight saved you, flying down the sails in the late afternoon gloom, raising the alarms as quietly and quickly as he possibly could.

Now, you and your men were fighting tooth and nail, your 25 against the other ship’s 20, and you were winning – the last part wasn’t a surprise. Everyone in these waters knew not to fuck with you. You and your crew were the undisputed masters, and only fools would ever cross you. Turns out, these were fools. But they were paying for it now.

You took a moment to escape to the quarterdeck to survey the scene. Chan and Changbin, the muscle of the ship, were on the other ship, taking down pirates easily, brutally, efficiently. Your plank was protected by Hyunjin, your first mate, but coincidentally also the best shot in the seven seas. Your other men were dotted around, fighting wherever they found the enemy, beating the other crew by a mile. Good.

You saw something glint from the corner of your eye and started, whipped your head up in alarm. Up in the fighting top of the main mast of the enemy ship sat a man about your age. He sat up there, away from the action, looking the picture of relaxation, kicking his legs, twirling a knife between his nimble fingers. His hat sat next to him on the wood, his head uncovered, shaggy black hair slicked back with the rain, revealing an angular, criminally handsome face, and intelligent, feline looking eyes.

He didn’t look away, not breaking eye contact even for a second as he watched you, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away, something about him–

You felt the air shift around you before you heard him, the heavy, lumbering brute that was charging at you. Unsurprisingly, he was not just lumbering but also predictable, pulling his fist too far back so you easily dodged his first punch, then the predictable other one. It took you about 20 seconds, two hard punches to the ears, a knife in the stomach and a kick to his gut to take care of him, tipping him over the side of the ship unceremoniously, and when you looked up, the man was still looking at you, and he was as calm as before, seemingly unaffected by the fact that you had just killed one of his mates, potentially one of his friends. Your eyebrows furrowed further, but again, you were interrupted, and this time all thought of the stranger left your head when your navigator, Seungmin’s panicked voice rung from the fray on the main deck.

“Captain!” he yelled, his voice full of panic, and your head snapped over to where he was leaning over Jeongin, who was holding his shoulder, dark blood seeping through his fingers. Ice-cold panic surged through your entire body.

“Shit,” you breathed, your cutlass clattering to the floor as you vaulted over the railing of the quarterdeck, weaving through the fighting to get to them as fast as you could. The bleeding was bad, Jeongin’s face an unhealthy shade of white, but it looked like he might survive. You needed him to survive. You helped Seungmin drag Jeongin’s shivering body into the hallway below the deck, barricading the door behind you, so nobody could follow you, and ran for your surgeon.

As soon as Jeongin was somewhat stable, you and Seungmin left him and made your way back above deck, where your crew had rounded up the last four pirates from the enemy ship on their deck. The man you had seen on the top wasn’t among them, and you felt a stab of disappointment and, if you didn’t know any better, grief.

Changbin gave you a small bow as you walked over.

“What should we do with these men, captain?”

You took a long look at them, watching calmly as one of them gathered spit in his mouth and spat at you, a thick glob of it landing on your boot. You looked at the spit, then the man, then Changbin.

“That one? In a boat, alone, no provisions,” you ordered and Chan was already moving, dragging him up and over to one of the lifeboats.

“The others,” you said slowly, watching the rest of the men cower in fear, avoiding your eyes, “You have the option to join my crew. If you choose not to, I’m feeling nice. Boat, enough provisions for a few days. Under the condition that you never, ever draw your sword against me or mine ever again.”

But none of the men took your offer, so you let your crew deposit them into a boat and send them off. They would probably be fine, the sun was set to rise on a clear day in the morning, and if they were smart, they could find their way back to land. If they weren’t, well, then you were glad they didn’t take your offer. There was no margin for error out here. Davey Jones took no prisoners.

You watched calmly as Chan and Changbin set about looting what they could from the ship, standing in the drizzling rain of the waning storm as they hauled crates upstairs, stuck around until they doused the ship in oil and set fire to it. The remaining raindrops crackled in the flames, the heat of the burning ship barely warming you, only making you more aware of the chill that sat deep in your shaking limbs and aching bones. When the ship was mostly burned, you nodded to your men, spoke a word of congratulations, and turned towards your cabin. But before you could open the heavy door that led below deck, a heavy thump of something hitting the deck sounded behind you, followed by the sound of yelling and the metallic swish of 20 swords being drawn.

You whipped around and came face to face with the man from the top, his features even more striking, his eyes even darker, more dangerous up close. An undeniable relief washed through you at the sight of him. Something told you that it would have been a shame if he had just been killed. But instead, he must’ve hid in Jeongin’s abandoned lookout post before he jumped from your main mast onto the deck. A bold move, considering the 25 men that immediately surrounded him, swords and knives drawn.

But the man didn’t seem to care. He stood there, shoulders squared, chest rising and falling with even breaths, his feline eyes boring into yours, unreadable, deep, beautiful. Then he drew his knife from his scabbard, placed it in his upward-facing palms and got on his knee, bowing his head.

Your whole crew was stunned into silence.

“What’s your name?” you asked loudly.

“Lee Minho,” the stranger answered, without lifting his head, his voice muffled by the material of his coat.

“What are you expecting from joining this crew?”

“A captain who cares for their crew, a captain who stands for something,” the man, Minho, said resolutely and without hesitation, and you blinked your eyes in surprise.

“So you know me?”

“I heard much of you, captain,” his answer came immediately, his voice still as sure as it was in the beginning, “I was hoping I would meet you one day, to see if the rumours were true.”

“What rumours have you heard then?” you said with a smirk, and some of your crew laughed, easing the tension. You made eye contact with Hyunjin over to your left, who raised an eyebrow at you, then Chan, who looked puzzled.

“That you’re ruthless, but fair. That you protect your crew like family. That you fight the good fight,” Minho said, and then nobody was chuckling any more. He was serious.

You walked over to the man until you were sure he could see the tips of your boots in his vision, waited for a second. But he didn’t raise his head, a sign of obedience that spoke of the truth of his words more than any promise ever could. Slowly, leisurely, you reached down and tapped his cheek, prompting him to raise his head. It was only when his gaze met yours again, that you suddenly realised what you’d missed these last few minutes. Something red-hot shivered down your spine. Danger. Sparks. Heat.

“What role were you hoping to get on my ship? I have to tell you, we’re pretty fully staffed.”

You weren’t, but he didn’t have to know that. He was still staring into your eyes. Something about the way he looked at you set you on fire, like your soul knew him already. It took everything in you to keep your steady eyes on him.

“I want to be your second-in-command,” he stated, and surprised murmurs broke out all around you. You raised your hand to silence them and nodded for Minho to continue.

“I saw you out there, you were all alone. A captain should always have someone to have their back.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him darkly, feigning a confidence that you could feel only the barest remnant of after this big battle, the excruciating wet and cold in your bones. But feigning it helped, distracted you from the sheer power he seemed to have over you.

“If you saw me, I think you saw I can handle myself just fine. Or do you disagree?”

Your men were chuckling all around you again. Lee Minho wasn’t. He shook his head, his eyes dipping down to your shoes briefly, in a sign of submission.

“You can defend yourself, but I think you shouldn’t have to. You’re here to lead, not to fight. Let me fight for you.”

He raised the knife he was still brandishing on his upturned palms higher. A shiver racked down your spine and weariness tugged at your eyes. You didn’t have any fight left in you. And something about him seemed … right. He was different, clearly very intelligent and independent. Despite the heat, the sparks, the danger, your intuition told you to accept him.

So you nodded.

“You can stay. But you will have to earn our trust in order to even be considered for a position that close to me. I don’t fancy getting stabbed in my sleep.”

Lee Minho nodded, still on his knee.

You turned around and nodded to your first mate, Hyunjin.“Hyune,

make sure he gets something to eat and a cabin to sleep in.”

Hyunjin nodded with a slight bow, and you turned around without another word, leaving Minho kneeling in the middle of the deck, in the drizzle, surrounded by your crew.

The man you had just made that same offer, to join your crew, was very different from the type of people you usually accepted. Lee Minho had joined your crew of outsiders almost easily, falling into easy companionship into the group of weirdos, outcasts from society, people who didn’t have anywhere else to go because they were trapped, by people, governments, creditors, pimps. They were all people who were mistreated by the very people, like Han Yujun, you knew from the very first day would be your life’s mission to take down.

Han Jisung was not without means, he was not an outcast in the traditional sense, although the way he spoke about his uncle, the quiet determination in his pretty eyes, his steadfast self-respect, it didn’t feel at all like all the other rich government assholes you had met. No, in a very real way, it all felt … achingly familiar. Like looking into a slightly skewed mirror.

But you forced yourself to be patient, to let him stew until he made his own decision. Though you asked Chan to take him to the baths, to wash his clothes for you and bring him some proper food.

Lee Minho, back when he first joined, managed to worm his way into your crew’s good graces in just a few short weeks. Oddly enough, it felt like he fit right in. And despite his closed off demeanour, his serious, feline eyes, it turned out that the real Lee Minho was a lot gentler. Also observant, steadfast, loyal, honest.

But he was also strong and merciless. The first fight you got involved in, even if you hadn’t appointed him, Minho never left your side, fighting your attackers with a ferocity and precision, a grace in his strong limbs, you had never seen in a pirate before. And he remained by your side when the fight was over, when you crossed the plank to the other ship, when you forced the enemy captain to his knees, when you interrogated and even when you dealt with him afterwards – through all of it, Minho stood two paces behind you on your right, his hand on his knife. The look on his face was determined, yet neutral, never questioning; you felt it that day for the first time, something that you would come to learn was one of the most important things about Minho: his support felt unconditional.

Before you parted ways that night, caked in blood and your hair and clothes reeking of the smoke of the burning enemy ship, his strong hands, the ones that had killed and mauled in your name, found your shoulders with a gentle, yet firm grip. He didn’t speak, just stood there looking at you, searchingly, inquisitively, until you gave him a tired smile. When he seemed satisfied that you were okay, he let his hands fall from your shoulders, bowed and turned on his heels, heading for the crew cabins downstairs. Something small and fragile in you wished he would’ve stayed. It felt dangerously nice to be so cared for.

You appointed Minho your second-in-command not much later.

You have to wait for two days before Chan knocks on the door to your cabin and finally announces that Jisung is asking to see you. You briefly weigh the risk of being alone with your captive, whether you should send Chan to find Minho up on deck – but you figure you will be able to defend yourself, no matter how feisty he was the other day. Plus, you have a feeling this one might need a bit of a gentler hand.

So you ask Chan to get him and wait, patiently, leaning against the front of your heavy desk, dark brown booted feet crossed at your ankles. The footsteps that walk up to your door this time are much calmer, one set of heavy steps you easily identify as Chan, the other much softer, more meandering in the way they find their footing.

There’s a low muttering exchange of words before Chan knocks and enters, pushing Jisung in front of him.

“Do we need to tie you to a chair again or are you going to be a good boy?” you ask Jisung, in lieu of a hello, and he narrows his eyes slightly, nose tipping skywards.

“I- I’m perfectly fine like this, thank you.”

You quirk one eyebrow at him, make a show of shrugging at Chan before you dismiss him. But Chan hesitates by the door.

“Are you sure? Should I get …” he starts, but you raise your hand to cut him off. His mouth snaps shut immediately.

“I’m sure. I would prefer it if you didn’t question my ability to question my captive. Leave us.”

Chan nods tersely, face burning as he bows.

“I’ll be right out here,” he says loudly, throwing a warning glance at Jisung before closing the door behind him.

You let your eyes finally fully fall on the young man in front of you.

He’s still in the same clothes from the day you captured, but they look like they have been washed. He looks fine, too, clean and well-rested, his soft brown hair still falling into his eyes in messy waves. Still pretty, you observe. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to speak with his lips pursed into his indomitable pout.

“You look like they’ve been taking care of you well, just like I asked,” you say finally and watch him blink at you warily.

“They have …” he says cautiously, and you raise an eyebrow, a smirk playing around your lips.

“What? Do you have any complaints? Surely, it’s not the food,” you ask in an effort to make him lighten up, but Jisung doesn’t respond, only jerkily shakes his head.

“Where’s your guard dog?” he suddenly asks, too sharply, too loudly.

Both of your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, annoyance starting to lick at your neck.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you say calmly, but dangerously, giving Jisung another chance to change his approach before you shove him right back into his cell, this time without such courtesy as you’ve shown him so far. Jisung falters briefly, before he bristles again.

“About your height, anger issues, looks like a greasy cat, smells like one, too,” Jisung supplies feistily.

Irritation starts to bubble deep in your gut, and you try hard to swallow it down, though the tremor in your voice is impossible to control.

“I don’t know if you’re familiar with the power dynamics in a situation like this, pretty boy,” you start icily, taking very slow, calculated steps towards Jisung, “but I’m the one who told my men to allow you to bathe, I’m the one who told them to bring you some of their food, and I’m the one who will decide whether I send you to starve in a boat by yourself tonight, sell you to a slave master in two months, or kill you myself. right. now.”

By now, you’re face to face with him, so close your breath puffs against his skin with every exhale, your eyes roving over his flushed cheeks, the little birthmark next to his mouth. When he still doesn’t say anything, you place a gentle hand on his chest before you shove him, suddenly, and with all your strength-

Jisung reels, stumbles backwards, eyes widening as he trips over his own feet, and you watch coldly as he slams into the hard floor with a loud thud and a groan. The door flies open and Chan is in the room within milliseconds, knife drawn and ready. He gives you a panicked once-over, then glares at Jisung, who’s still groaning on the floor.

“Take him back,” you say coldly and Chan automatically straightens up when he hears the ice in your voice, “and this time? Give the spoiled brat the regular treatment.”

Chan hauls Jisung to his feet without another word, his grip on his arm more than painful if Jisung’s hiss is anything to judge by. He drags Jisung to the door unceremoniously, but Jisung struggles.

“Wait!” he yells, but Chan keeps moving. Good to know your station as captain is still intact. “Wait, wait, captain, please.”

Captain. You look at Jisung expectantly as he is being dragged away.

“I’m sorry, wait, please,” he stammers out, louder, yanking at his restraints, tries to get his arm out of Chan’s grip, though it clearly hurts him. He looks at you pleadingly, and you don’t know what possesses you, but you decide to hear him out.

“Chan, stop,” you order, and Chan does so immediately. Jisung stops struggling and breathes out a sigh of relief. He winces when he tries to move his arm, his breathing laboured from his struggle.

“Captain,” he says, with emphatically, slightly bowing his head, “I … I want to join you.”

He … what?! You huff out a shocked laugh. Even Chan snorts, staring at the young man like he lost his mind.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you breathe out and Jisung grimaces, but stays silent. “You come in here with an attitude like that and then only change your mind at the prospect of shitting into a bucket for the next two months, and you expect me to believe you?!”

“Fuck,” Jisung curses, and you laugh again.

“Yeah, fuck’s about right. Should’ve thought this through.”

Jisung shakes his head. Chan starts tugging at his arm and Jisung starts talking, his words so fast you can barely make them out.

“No, no, I already … I’m … I’m not good at this, okay, scratch that, I’m bad at it. Always been bad at diplomacy. My uncle never failed to tell me, trust me. But in my defence, I have never been abducted before and,” Jisung starts babbling and both you and Chan watch him, blinking stupidly. “And yes, the prospect of shitting in a bucket is horrible, but even before that, the food wasn’t lost on me, okay. Neither was the bath. I’m just not used to being tied up, at least not in these circumstances,” a nervous laugh, “but my mother has always said my big mouth will get me in trouble one day.”

You look at Chan and Chan looks at you, and you slowly raise your hand, to wave for him to wait outside. He once again hesitates, but you glare at him and wave him off again. He relinquishes his hold on Jisung’s arm, who grimaces in relief while his mouth is still going a mile a minute, scuffing the toes of his boots into the uneven planks under his feet.

“… and besides, I wouldn’t have worn this outfit if I had known. But that’s beside the point. What I wanted to say was, I want to accept your offer.”

When he finally raises his head and looks at you, his face is no longer flushed, instead you can see the smooth planes of his chipmunk-like cheeks, watch as his eyebrows furrow with determination. He tosses his head back, shakes the hair from his eyes, meets your gaze with his own, shockingly honest one. Something in your gut is telling you to trust this man, and it feels oddly similar to the feeling you had with Chan and Jeongin, and the same feeling you had with Minho.

Jisung watches you carefully as you un-sheath your knife from where it’s hanging at your hip and take a step towards him. His eyes widen, his mouth drawing into a perfect little o as he stumbles back, almost tumbling to the floor all over again.

“I’m sorry, okay, I thought I made it clear I didn’t mean it – I- Please don’t kill me!”

He squeaks when his back hits the wall, and he cowers in on himself. How he could go from so feisty and angry to so cute and anxious is beyond you. He’s … very different from the rest of you, and you briefly wonder how much trouble that alone could land you in. But then again, you had never turned anyone away just because they were weird. Quite the opposite, it’s what had kept you all stuck together like this.

He’s still cowering, squeaking again when he feels the cold metal press against his thin shirt. You slice through the rope, and he jumps, his arms sliding from where they had been crossed against his back.

His eyes fly open when he realises he’s no longer bound, and he blinks up at you, eyes wide and cheeks puffed out in shock, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at just how ridiculous he looks. Like someone drew him.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you say quietly before you re-sheath your knife and turn around, walking back to your desk and leaning against it again, just like you had when he had first entered. For all intents and purposes, to anyone, even Chan, it would probably look like you were the picture of relaxation. But your whole body was pulled taut as soon as you turned your back on him. Just because your gut feeling tells you to trust him doesn’t mean you’re an idiot.

But the only thing Han Jisung does is walk closer to you one you’re settled against your desk, rubbing the red marks of the ropes on his wrists, the spot where Chan had grabbed him so roughly, a slightly disgruntled look on his face.

“So, you said you wanted to join us?” you say carefully and Jisung straightens up and nods, bowing slightly.

“I want to join you, Captain, if you’ll have me.”

So polite.

“Why?” you ask simply, and he blinks at you. You nod for him to go on.

“Because … because I’m bad at politics, especially the one my uncle is so good at. Like, I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m a pretty bad liar, and I’m pretty sure that’s all my uncle does. Besides, I don’t want to be good at his kind of politics, the kind that starves people and runs them out of their homes and …” he swallows thickly, and you watch him closely. Still, you couldn’t find a single indication that he was lying.

“And it’s not like I have anywhere else to go,” Jisung adds, suddenly overly interested in the shining leather of his boots, “my uncle might kill me or put me on another ship with men whose only interest is my ass, I have no friends because all I ever did was politics, and my parents are fucking dead.”

His voice breaks slightly at the end, before he chuckles, humourlessly, tosses his head nonchalantly.

“It’s probably stupid that I’m laying out all my cards like this, but like you just reminded me, you hold all the power here.”

He raises his head and when he looks at you now, his big brown eyes are glassy, though his lips are pursed resolutely. There it is again. You make up your mind then.

“We’re all in a similar boat here, pun intended,” you offer carefully. He chuckles slightly and sniffles once, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. He’s so … cute. The thought of anyone touching him without his consent made a familiar, ugly hatred burn deep in your gut.

“None of us had anywhere else to go when we first joined, but now we have found a sense of belonging. The others will tell you their own stories on their own time if they wish to, but rest assured, we were all lost once. Lost and angry and wronged.”

Jisung nods, his eyes glued to yours so attentively it almost made you nervous.

“And …,” you hesitate, something that feels foreign to you, “you’ll be safe here. Nobody will … try to hurt you here, in any way, or … touch you without your consent.”

“Yeah?” Jisung asks, his face still determined, but his voice a quiet, hopeful thing. God, you swear your heart would crack if you still felt like you had one.

You nod gently.

“We’re a family, family should never hurt each other.” The dark, cynical disappointment buried deep in his eyes is painfully familiar. You wonder if he can see it in your eyes, too. You clear your throat, assuming your ‘captain voice’ again.

“Let’s leave it here for today,” you announce, and it’s like Jisung shakes himself out of it, stands up straighter and nods again. Cute little bobblehead, you think. “And tomorrow, I think we should have a long conversation about how far you’re willing to go against your uncle. Because I know family can be a bit–“

You’re interrupted by the door flying open so hard that it rattles on its hinges. Minho barges in, his eyes wild, his shoulders squared, fists balled by his sides. His gaze falls to Jisung’s untied hands, panic all over his face for a brief, unguarded second, before he collects himself. His eyes race over your body, inspect you for any sign of injury or discomfort, but the relief when he comes up empty does nothing to assuage his panic. He walks to your side, his hands reaching towards you before falling helplessly at his side.

“Are you fucking insane?” he hisses out, his breath coming out in short bursts. He looks wild, and yet his eyes are so much softer than he ever allows himself in front of people. “Why is he untied? Why are you alone with him? Why didn’t you tell Chan to get me?”

Your heart soars, plummets, constricts deep in your chest, the panic in Minho’s eyes mingled with something you can’t think too much about, let alone name, making your head swim. You have to take a steadying breath. Then you do what you have to do.

“Minho,” you say coldly and Minho takes a step back as if wounded, his face slipping into his cold pokerface, though the pain that flashes through his eyes feels like it’s stabbing you in the heart. “I will interrogate who I wish, how I wish it. Chan didn’t get you because I asked him not to. Understood?”

Minho nods mechanically, eyes glued to yours as he searches and searches your gaze for any of the warmth that’s usually there. You keep it locked away and it aches. His gaze falls on Jisung and his eyes narrow.

“You,” he spits out and Jisung jumps slightly, going pale under Minho’s wrathful glare.

“Jisung is one of us now,” you say matter-of-factly, and Minho’s gaze snaps back to yours, widening in surprise.

“You just made that decision,” Minho says, as is his habit, sounding out a question like it's a statement.

“He just had a conversation with his captain and said captain made that decision, yes,” you say drily, and Minho swallows before lacing his hands behind his back and straightening his back. He’s no longer looking at you, eyes fixed vaguely on the wall behind you, but you can see his hands shaking. You want to throw up. You chance a brief glance at Jisung and to your relief, he doesn’t seem to be aware of all the implications crackling through the air, the only thing he seems to see is his new captain putting her crew in their place.

“Then the captain has made her decision,” Minho says calmly, and you nod and suffocate the tendril of tenderness and regret in your chest that makes you want to reach out and trace the delicate curve of his clenched jaw until it relaxes under your touch.

You turn back to Jisung, who’s staring up at Minho with something between awe and fear in his eyes. You clear your throat, and he drags his eyes away from Minho back to you.

“I realise I never introduced you. This is Lee Minho, my second-in-command, my right hand,” you say and Minho briefly nods at Jisung, eyes stony.

“Now,” you add and call for Chan, who walks into the room calmly, though he avoids looking at Minho. He must’ve heard. Great. “Chan will take you to the mess, where you can introduce yourself to some of the other boys. And tomorrow we talk about the other thing.”

Jisung nods at you, throws a nervous glance at Minho, before he turns around and gives Chan a tentative smile, one that Chan half reciprocates before he ushers him out the door, closing it behind him softly.

The silence that follows is deafening. Minho doesn’t budge an inch, eyes still glued to the wall opposite him, even when you turn to him and cross your arms over your chest.

“I can’t have you questioning my authority like that, Min,” you say calmly, gently. Minho eyes flutter slightly, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. “Not in front of the crew or Chan, and especially not in front of the new guy. You hear me?”

Minho nods again, his eyes blinking rapidly now.

“Talk to me, please? Is it because I didn’t let you know that I was talking to him? Is it because I made the decision without you?”

It’s like Minho breaks, disbelief swimming in his beautiful eyes when he stares at you.

“That’s what you think this is about?”

No.

“Yes?” you offer, withering under his gaze. But you stay strong, though where you pull the strength from is beyond you.

“You can make any decision you want. You’re the captain. I trust you,” he says, and you can tell he means it, but you can also see much more than you’re able to handle.

“Then what was that?” you ask even though you know the answer.

“Y/N …” Minho breathes out your name like a promise and a sob threatens to scratch itself out of your throat, “I … You … You have to …”

You bitterly realise just how good you’ve become at your poker face when he stops himself, running his hands through his hair with a choked sigh.

“If you don’t know, then …” he starts again before he shakes his head hard and makes for the door. “It was nothing, captain, nothing at all.” He leaves without looking back, letting the door fall shut behind him. When the silence envelops you, you finally allow yourself to crumble.

<- epigraph - chapter II (coming march 15, 3pm CET) ->