#SoonYoung

[hoshingi]

HOSHI BOSS #1

[woozi]

HOSHI ✸ SPELL

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (1)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final]: 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tagin following parts

[AN]: thank you so much to @highvern for betaing for me and helping out with the plot so much, this fic would not exist if it weren't for her!!!! and thank you reader!!! for clicking on this and reading it, this one's been about 7 months in the works and I would love to hear what your thoughts are when you're done, plsplspls leave a rb or a reply with your brainrot lol <3 happy reading

HOSHI’S BOOT IS STUCK in the ground. 

No, that’s a branch. 

Or is it a plank? 

He doesn’t try to find out as he yanks his foot out of whatever stopped him from moving. A tree root, he finds as he kicks the remnants of jungle rubbish from the surface of the shrouded root. He kicks it to satisfy himself. 

His crew resides on the beach; where he can see them attempt to build a fire before sundown, the mound of discombobulated twigs making up most of the sad pile of wood. Hoshi trudges up to it and drops another handful of puny branches into the mix. 

Exhaling loudly as Mingyu calls for him, he falls to his bottom and sits cross legged on the sand. Mingyu trudges up next to him to inspect his pile, sighing when he realised this was all he had to work with. He picks up two hefty looking stones and begins to strike them together, putting his faith in the primitive fire. 

Hoshi stares into the horizon, watching the died down waves drift onto the shore, moving closer by the minute. 

Hoshi thinks, which he can’t say is something that he does very often. Perhaps that’s why he was sat on this nature-overrun island as a shipless captain of his shipless crew. He chews on his tongue as he thinks of his Tigress, his beloved hunk of wood and metal; the beloved hunk of wood and metal that he could not see on the shoreline, because she was taken by the royal navy. 

He wonders if Tigress would ever forgive him for letting that happen to her, for letting those clean, soft handed soldiers rip her away from his grasp. 

Hoshi needs to start thinking more often.

Mingyu is frantic over the small flame that erupts in the middle of his leaves, dropping his rocks to blow into the fire, encouraging it to grow. 

“Captain, it’s done! We can rustle up those fish we caught, have supper sorted.” 

“Hm.”

The bustle of the entire crew lasts until night has fallen and they’ve gotten food in their stomachs. Hoshi hasn’t moved from his spot for hours, something the others noticed very quickly, but decided not to mention for fear of waking something dangerous. They understood he was suffering from a broken heart. 

It isn’t until the first of the crew had begun to doze off that Hoshi speaks. Chan is propped up against a tree while Seungkwan laughs at the dangerously low coconut that hangs above his head. Mingyu readjusts his trousers after a full meal. Minghao stretches onto the sand, feet facing the water. 

His voice isn’t loud, nor is it commanding, nor does it have his usual edge of jest—in fact, it sounds nothing like Hoshi at all. 

Or does it?

“Who wants to steal a ship?”

YOU'RE AWOKEN BY THE sound of yelling. Which is never a good sign in any case, but especially not when it’s pitch black outside and you’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

The grogginess is quick to fade as you try to understand what’s going on outside your quarters. Your room isn’t a mess, all the trinkets and royal seals remaining in their places on the walls and shelves. Nor is the ship lurching or moving in odd angles to indicate an unexpected spat from the skies. A quick peek outside the window shows you clear, calm water amidst the mostly dark expanse of ocean. 

There is only one other answer in your head that would cause this much commotion—especially on a boat where the admiral resides (and a princess). 

Slipping out of the covers, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors of your quarters, a small shiver going through your spine from the cold, with nothing to cover you but your thin nightgown. You’re in the middle of tying your robe to see what the ruckus was about outside when a particularly loud thud hits outside of your door. You immediately freeze. 

Staring at the doorknob, you attempt to move backwards in the space, heart beating faster as you watch the knob move slightly. The back of your knees hit the bedside table with a thud, the sound has you gasp out loud. Whoever it was outside your door jiggles the knob harder, the force exerted having you scan the room for something you could use as a weapon. 

Spotting the letter opener on your desk, you lurch across the room to grab it, holding it in front of you as you back away from the door. The knob continues to bang against the wood as you refuse to take eyes off of it. There’s sounds of men outside, loud and rambunctious, momentarily halting the grievances. 

Until the knob moves again, slower this time, a light click that could be heard as it unlocks itself, opening into the low light of your quarters. 

You recognise the frazzled looking soldier at your door. 

“Lieutenant,” you voice in recognition. “What’s going on?”

He eyes the letter opener that you hold defiantly in front of you from across the room, and it has you retracting your force slightly. 

“Pirates, your Highness,” he breathes out. “We must get you to lower deck—”

“Where is the Admiral? The Captain?” you ask as you take a couple steps forward. 

“They’re handling the situation, your High–” 

An arm has come up behind the soldier that pulls him into a headlock, a swift pull to have him dragged away from your vision. You would’ve gasped if your voice hadn’t been caught in your throat, refusing to make itself known as fear brews in the pit of your stomach. Your hold on your makeshift weapon is tighter than ever before, yet you doubt how it’s going to help you as the culprit finally steps over something to appear in your doorframe. 

His clothes are in a disarray; slashed, torn and covered in grime. There’s a deadly looking machete in one hand, the blood that coats it has you eyeing the trail that drips onto his hand and on the floor. His forearms are perched up on the doorframe as he inspects you, tongue to cheek as he stares. 

Threatened as you feel, there was less hunger in his gaze as you had expected, more like he was trying to figure out who you were. He eyes your tiny letter opener you hold like a knife and lets out a little exhale you think might be a laugh. It has you gripping the handle impossibly tighter. The man moves his face into the hallway, to where you know the staircase to the main deck is. 

“Hoshi!” he yells loudly. “How’s this for bait?” 

Your back is pressed inexplicably against the wall, wanting to sink into the wooden boards as you attempt to gain your bearings amongst the nauseous bouts of mortification that surge through you. Your only exit is blocked.

No. You have one more option. 

The sound of more men bounding down the hall has you praying there were more soldiers here, but the calm regard the man has for the approaching people has your heart sink to the depths of this very ocean itself. 

More faces peer into the room, men with the same haphazard, grimey clothing complete with  equally sinister weapons in their grasps. One of the men breaks out into the biggest grin as he lays his eyes on you. You nearly throw up. 

For the first time in your life, you wish you’d listened to your father. 

“Jun, you savvy motherfucker,” the grinning man explodes, slapping the man who found you on the back. 

Another voice speaks from behind him, “Ships cleared, captain.” 

“Perfect. Bring a spring upon ‘er. Get as far away from those cleans as you can, let them fend for themselves in a tiny boat for once.” 

Captain. The grinning, stupid looking one is their captain. 

He regards the rest of his crew as he finally steps through the threshold, waving them away as he enters your quarters.

It was taking everything out of you to not buckle your knees as you stood, every step he takes is turning your strength into dust. He keeps his eyes on you, eyes on your sorry excuse of a weapon. He registers the mix of fear and determination in your eyes. 

He stops a few feet away from you, looking directly at you past the makeshift knife you hold. 

He says nothing as he drops the knife in his own hand to the ground with a loud clang. He removes a pistol, a couple more knives, a grenade and a sword. Weapons drop to the floor one after the other, emerging from all over his body and clothes. All in a pile on the wooden floors. He puts his hands in the air.

“No weapons on me. I merely wish to talk.” 

The look on his face is not ordinary, some strange combination of mock innocence and jest. You don’t answer him.

He continues, “You can keep your… scalpel… if you so wish.” 

“What did you do to the soldiers?” you finally rasp out.

“They’re not dead, if that's what you’re asking.”

“Yet?” you ask with a slight tremble to your voice. 

“They’ve been shoved into a boat with a map and a compass to fend for themselves. I’m not entirely ruthless,” he adds with raised brows and a hint of a smile. “Admiral, were they calling him? You must be his wife.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, guess not. Daughter? Captain’s wife, Captain’s daughter?”

Your previously stagnant brain is now running a derby with all the thoughts galloping across your mind. He doesn’t know who you are. Yet, anyway.

He’s scanning the room now, nodding at the trinkets and trophies scattered across the place. “Can’t imagine giving a lieutenant’s anybody quarters like this.” He circles back on you, eyes sharp. “Who are you, darling?”

You don’t think you have anything that should give you away, but the way he starts pacing the room has your anxiety going through the wooden roof.

He has his back turned to you. You’re not sure if he’s confident or careless considering you could drive your weapon into his back and make a run for it. But then what? By the looks of it there’s an entire crew of pirates pacing the deck. Perhaps the soldiers haven’t gotten that far; they know you’re still on board, they know it’s their heads on a pike if they leave you here. 

He’s reached your desk during your thinking, inspecting your stationary, picking at the bejewelled quills and paper weights as he mutters nonsense to himself. 

“Oh!” he announces, a little too enthusiastic. “What’s this?” 

He brandishes the loose leaf of paper, and you recognise the print on the back immediately. It was a letter from your father, the King.

“How on Earth did you read this, the writing is illegible.” He flips the paper over, double taking when he sees the royal seal on the back. He looks into the letter closer now. 

You wait with baited breath. 

“The kingdom needs their princess…your father…ah.” 

Should you plunge the knife into him anyway? You almost do it, but stop when he begins to turn around to face you again. His eyebrows are raised, a slight hint of exasperation on his face when he begins to laugh a loud, loud cackle. 

It’s mortifying, especially when you don’t understand what on earth was so funny to elicit a reaction like that. The man is downright hysterical. He wipes a lone tear from the corner of his eye as he drops the letter back onto the desk.

“W-what’s so funny?” you try to sound brave.

“It seems, miss princess, that we’ve gotten more than we bargained for,” he says, looking straight at you as he sobers up. “You’re the King’s daughter, now, are you? What are the odds the first ship I hop onto with a royal seal slapped on it, held the crown jewel of the kingdom in its gallows.” 

And then he starts walking, towards you, for that matter. Imperative because you know for sure that this is how it all ends. 

You know you still have your one last option, the option that is now pressed against your back as you shimmy to it with miniscule movements. The window is cool on your hand that rests on the glass, you know the lamp will be enough to break it, enough for you to push through and fall into the abyss of the dark, dark sea. He knows who you are now, and you’d rather drown than die at the hands of a pirate—or go through whatever it was that’s curling the minds of all the men on this ship. 

He takes another step forward, hands on his hips. “He’s not going to like this, is he? His dear daughter in the hands of the Kingdom’s favourite degenerate captain.” 

What?

He then adds in a whisper to himself mostly, “Or least favourite with all the wanted posters off the churches and brothels.” 

Hoshi. Hoshi. Hoshi. 

The man who had found you had called him Hoshi. Hoshi the pirate. Hoshi the pirate that’s been giving the Kingdom and its court absolute hell for as long as you can remember. 

The man that you are now trapped alone with on a ship is the most feared pirate the Kingdom has ever seen. 

You don’t doubt your face has gone grey, feeling your breathing turn near erratic. “Oh God.”

He smiles wryly as the life is sucked out of your very soul. 

This was bad. Very bad.

“Now, fear not, you will soon be returned to daddy dearest,” he places a mildly dramatic hand over his heart. “Pirate’s honour.”

He paces back to pluck the letter off the table, pocketing it. “All you need to do is relax and tell me a few things so we can part ways as soon—”

“No.” The word blurts out of your mouth before you can stop it, horrified at the thought of giving information to any pirate, let alone this one. 

“No?” Hoshi looks genuinely shocked, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. He laughs a little incredulously, “Oh, I see, can’t tell all the delicate details to a scary ol’ pirate.”

He smiles a little bit, “Worry not, miss princess, we shall only need a few minor details. Just enough to have your father sprinting to get you out of here. We all win.”

He stares at you almost expectantly, and you wonder if you look as confused as you feel. 

“Well, I’ll be bidding you goodnight now, I’m sure we’ve interrupted your beauty sleep enough. Rest assured we won’t be bothering you for the rest of the morning.”

Hoshi begins to make his way to the door, picking up his pile of weapons off the floor before wrenching the door open. He’s calm as ever, but your mind is in a disarray.

A ransom, but whatever for? Gold could’ve been retrieved by raiding any ship, and it sounded like he’d chosen to hop on a ship belonging to the navy. Come to think of it, as much of a nuisance this man has proved himself, you don’t remember a case where he’s directly meddled with the Kingdom. All of this can’t just be for gold. 

Steeling yourself, you bet your odds against your voice and asked him, “What do you want from my father?” 

You watch as he halts in his tracks, halfway through the door as he finally looks over his shoulder. The look on his face has you wanting to break open the window immediately and let the water flood in, once and for all as you take these bastards down with you. 

“Your father has something of mine. And I intend to take it back,” he says, before finally slamming the door shut. You hear a shuffle and a thud, and you do not doubt that he’s locked you in. 

Your knees give out almost immediately, dropping to the ground as you breathe in quick, shallow breaths. Trying to look past the dizziness, you try not to think about the last thing he’d said before he left, moreso the look on his face as he did. 

The first rays of morning sun are beginning to shine through the windows, casting the beginnings of a glow in your quarters. You think of the supposed assurance he had given you, that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they intended to return you. 

The thought leads to a faraway memory, yet one that’s tucked itself into a front corner of your mind, you can almost hear your father's voice as he says it; never trust a pirate.

You remain on the floor, and you remain wide awake. 

THE SUN IS HIGH in the sky by the time you put your limbs to work. 

The first hours after the pirate locked you in your quarters were spent trying to reign yourself to earth. You can’t be entirely sure your soul has come back to your body, but whatever little of it that has landed is whispering some very dangerous things. 

The lamp remains, the ornate jewels glinting almost enticingly in the afternoon light. The flame inside it has long died, but you itch to give it another purpose. You don’t note the trembling of your hand as you reach for it, pushing yourself to your feet as you get a feel for the heavy hunk of glass and metal in your hands. 

If there was a level of regard before, it disappears when you set eyes on the bright window and the creases of crystal blue water. With all your strength, you don’t think twice when the lamp makes hard contact, a loud thud erupting as a result, but no damage when you pull away. 

You go again, harder this time, and only vaguely register the glass of the lamp that shatters into your hands. Gripping the metal bit tighter, you swing for the third time, pulling back for the strongest blow yet. 

A hand wraps around your elbow and you’re yanked backwards, landing on the floor. There’s a kick at your hand that’s flown into the air, the one that holds the bludgeoned lamp. It goes flying across the room as you retract your hand into yourself. 

You don’t register a thing as you’re suddenly being pulled back up to your feet. Face to face with the pirate captain, your soul finally clicking back into place. 

“Didn’t think I scared you this bad.” He’s made a joke, but all you can see is his face that’s a mask of rage.

The initial instinct is to move away, pulling your elbow out of his grasp in an attempt to flee. You fail as he tightens his grip to a painful degree, hauling you towards the ajar door of the quarters. 

It’s only then that you realise that there’s more people in the room.You note another big, burly man next to the window you just assaulted, inspecting it with another shorter man. You don’t get to note more as you’re pulled into the narrow hallway, begging the saints he doesn’t take the turn towards the lower decks. Instead you find he leads you upstairs to where the main deck is. 

Walk the plank? Did navy ships have planks to walk on? Not that you’d mind too much, you were trying to drown yourself and this ship in any case. But then there’s a settle of dread in the pit of your stomach, realising death may be the most merciful thing this man could give you. 

The pirate captain pushes you against a mast, one of his other minions rushing in with coils of rope on his shoulder. The sun beats down on the deck, not a gust of reprieve from the wind. 

“Keep the ropes tight, she’s got less wit than I’d thought,” the pirate captain says with a grunt, huffing as he lets go of you. He takes a few steps away, hands at his hips, the image of vexation. 

The person who ties the cords around your hands whispers slowly, “Stop moving.”

But you can’t, not when the panic is near the lip, not when all the possibilities are flashing gore filled images into your vision. It's scary to blink. 

“Why won’t you let me die?” you ask to the back that’s turned.

He turns around, not even bothering hiding the exasperation that paints his face, mouth opening furiously before closing again. “Why won’t—Because you were trying to take us all with you!”

“Kill me!” you all but scream. “They won’t know till you’ve gotten what you want, I’d rather be dead than let you try whatever’s brewing in all your sick heads!” 

He’s silent for a moment, noting your defiant gaze, your pull against the ropes, the heaving of your chest. Taking a few steps forward, Hoshi seems to be attempting to bring the boil in his blood to a low simmer, “Listen, princess. We’re pirates alright, but me and my crew, we keep to ourselves. If your daddy the king hadn’t decided to meddle and steal my fucking ship, you would’ve been home in your pretty palace, asleep in your bed of gold by now.” 

The pirate captain’s face is closer than you’d ever be comfortable with, seething in a way that has you pressing further into the mast. “We may be degenerates but we keep our own morals, as twisted as your people heed them to be.” 

When he finally pulls away, you take a breath and thank the air that simply exists, eyes downcast as you attempt to look braver than you feel. 

“I’m not pushing you overboard. I’ve duped your people once, they’ll be more prepared next time. We need you alive while you’re in our hands.” 

“How are you going to summon a ransom? You sent away your only messengers,” you ask, a sad attempt at a mock, but also because you wanted to know what his plan was. 

“Your useless Admiral’s taken up that job.”

“By lifeboat? You’ve left them all for dead, how do you expect this genius plan to work?” 

“They could’ve swam to shore if it came to it, we were close enough.”

“How are you so sure?” you spit.

“Do I need to gag you too?” he gives you one last irritated look before stalking off towards the lower deck. You’re left alone in the cooling afternoon heat, the sound of the sea keeping your ears company along with your own slowing breaths. 

Everything he said has a good enough chance to be a complete and utter lie. Never trust a pirate. No weapon to cut yourself out of your impossibly tight binds, nothing to protect you or give you reassurance besides a pirate’s word—the worst pirate’s word. 

Your battered thinking leads you straight through the setting of the sun, the orange glow of the sky shrouding the ship in the dreamiest backdrop while you live what you can only sum as a nightmare. Perhaps not, for you doubt your mind could ever conjure up a terror like this. 

This was life, the most terrifying nightmare of all. 

Having managed to wiggle your tied hands downwards, you had seated yourself with your head against the wood of the mast, staring into the translucent skies. So much freedom that taunts you in its illusion of proximity, yet so far still. 

There’s murmurs below deck, the only semblance of life you’ve heard in the past few hours after the stupid pirate captain stormed off. It seems to be on the stairs, a heated argument. 

“Obviously this wasn’t part of the plan, the chances were supposed to be zero to absolutely none. We landed with that scumbag’s successor, that’s just our piss luck and nothing more.” 

“You wanted a woman for bait, this should work the same.”

“Hao, I wanted a woman for bait to trigger a lukewarm reaction, this princess could either doom us all or make our job a fat punch easier, and I’m not betting on the latter.”

There’s a pause. 

“If only she’d cut it with the random hysterics and creepy-staring-at-the-sky we could actually get something useful out of her.” 

“Pray that window holds up or any chance of a miracle is gone to the wind.”

It’s like you’ve woken up with the way the stupid idea begins to form in your head. You think of your father, the kind of man he is, the kind of ruler he is. All the ‘if’s are guiding you to a conclusion. One that gives you a fighting chance, one that may go beyond this massive navy ship and clear into the rest of your life—if you make it that far anyway. 

Your father and his men would come, give this unhinged pirate what he desires so dearly, you know that for sure. But you also know it wouldn’t be for you, but for the crown that’s destined to fall upon your cursed head. 

If it’s his ship that he wants…

The next time you see one of the pirate captain’s goons on the deck, you ask for an audience. 

“DID YOUR STUPID FATHER drop you on your head as a baby?” 

Hoshi stands before you under the light of the midnight moon, an incredulous expression on his face. You try to keep the scowl off your own but it proves difficult when his voice pierces your skull. 

You ignore him from your position on the floor, “I know my father, and I know he loathes you enough to finally want you and your incompetent crew gone for good.”

He scratches his chin, “Can’t be that incompetent if he hates us so much.”

“I can help you.”

“You were ready to die than to be on the same ship as us a few hours ago. What’s changed?”

“Perspective,” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant. 

“Are you gonna go back to wailing in the morning then?” 

God, this was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

“You want your ship back and you were hoping for someone less important to exchange it for. But you’re stuck with me and you know it’s not going to end well for you. You need my help.” 

“Why so merciful, miss princess? Are you not on your father’s side?” 

You gulp as discreetly as possible.

“I want something in exchange.”

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue. 

“I want you to kill my father.”

If his eyebrows were raised before, they’ve broken for the skies now. He leans his head back, eyes closing for a moment before reopening, reigning back to you before asking very gracefully, “What?” 

“I want you to kill my father.”

“No, I got that bit,” he snaps. “Your father as in, the King?”

“Yes, as you’ve pointed out far more times than anyone ever has.” You can’t help but roll your eyes despite the weight of the situation and the hammering in your chest. 

He stares at you in an expression you can’t quite read, and it unsettles you deeply. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve gravely miscalculated, watching as he moves around the mast you’re tied to. Out of the corner of your eye you see the metal glint of a dagger, and you nearly short circuit. 

Is he about to cut your hands off?

You feel a distinct tug at your wrists, the sound of slicing, and the voice in your head asking why it didn’t hurt. 

Suddenly your hands are free, intact and free as you achingly bring them in front of you, wincing audibly at the pain of moving them after so long. 

“You can jump into the water if you’d like, I won’t stop you.” He walks back over, sitting cross legged opposite you, at eye level. 

“What?”

“You’ve clearly gone mad, I’ll find another way to get my ship back.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Of course, and I utterly enjoy having a kingdom’s worth of blood on my hands. Shall I take the entirety of the court down while we’re at it? Carry out a fucking waltz with Jack Ketch?”

“Why are you acting like you’re above murder? Another part of your strange moral code?” 

“No, no, not above it at all. But I like my head and rather not have it guillotined. They might skim over the death of some too-nosy soldier but I doubt they’d leave me be after I put a bullet between the King’s eyes.”

“I’ll protect you.”

He looks at you for a moment, “Quite reassuring.” 

You sit up straighter, licking your lips as you prepare yourself. “My father isn’t a good man.”

The pirate captain snorts, “Oh, I’m well aware.”

You try not to stare too hard at the still unsheathed dagger that he digs into the floorboards, knifing out splinters in disregard. 

“My father doesn’t want me home, he wants the crown home. He wants me to be a carbon copy of himself, he wants to be in control long after he’s gone.” You try not to grind your teeth too hard but it’s difficult when your father’s face burns behind your eyelids. “I want control over the throne, full control.”

“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”

“I don’t have another choice.”

“Then what? You’ll pardon me and my crew after we get our hands dirty for you?” he asks, eyes wide in mock hope. 

“Yes. You can do whatever it is that you sail about doing and no one will be of bother. I might ask you for sparing favours. For a wage of course. But other than that, you can live as lawlessly as you wish.”

“You’re asking me to become your personal lackey?”

“Having a queen’s favour is no small feat I hope you’re aware. Besides, it's a leap better than the hoops you’ve been jumping through during my father’s reign.” 

You realised his face had been shrouded by the dark between your negotiating and the clouds that had veiled the moon. Every moment that was supposed to strengthen your understanding of the man that sat across from you only brought you more confusion. 

“You want your ship and freedom of land and sea,” you continue when it’s silent for a beat too long. “I only ask for a small favour in return.”

“I’d argue the miniscule nature of what you’re asking from me,” he scoffs.

“Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line.” 

There crawls in the silence once again, the same one that seems to grab you by the throat for every moment that ticks past undisturbed. 

“We’ll have to see to that,” he says, huffing as he gets back on his boot clad feet. You follow him with your eyes as he walks towards the creaky stairs that lead to the lower deck, utterly confused. 

“Where are you going?” you ask, bewildered at his strange behaviour. 

Turning around, just as he had a mere day ago in your quarters and you feel yourself suppressing a shudder. “I have a crew to consult.”

So he was considering it. 

“But you’re the captain.”

“And?” 

THE SKY IS A lighter sheen of blue, leaning towards the premature hours of the morning. He’d left you untied, and as you gaze into the duned waters in the minimal light, the urge to jump in and create a ripple that goes beyond just the water is less tempting than you’d thought. The prospect of having a dead father, and a dead king, was enough to snap you out of your hysteria despite it being a plot of your own devising. 

You’ve been alone for a while, little indication that there was other life on this ship at all with the lack of human activity. There wasn’t much that you knew of sailing or ship handling, but leaving the deck unmanned for this long gave you the vague impression that you were on a vessel with poor practising pirates. If they’d thought you’d be equipped to handle any hiccups, they’d either find out the hard way, or whenever it was that you could find the wit to bring it up to the pirate captain and his strangely attached crew. 

Something that sounds distinctly like boots are thudding gradually up to the main deck, the unmistakable blond of the pirate captain himself coming into view. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but the low thuds are sending your heart racing, panic overcoming your senses for a brief moment before you recalibrate. It’s only then that you realise it’s been more than 24 hours since the ship was hijacked. Somehow, you could have believed it was a lifetime. 

He’s disturbingly nonchalant, hand at the sheathed hilt of the dagger at his hip, a casual glance around at the empty abyss of ocean and sky. When he reaches the far end of the deck, right above the prow, he stops. 

“Are you going to push me off the rails?” you ask, half genuine, half trying to fill the silence as you face one another. 

“No.” He said it plainly, the single word reply leaving you even more uncomfortable. 

“Have you thought about what I said…with your crew?” you ask, hand coming up to grab the railing for support. 

“I did.” 

“Do I sense an objection?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat

“Not exactly,” he says. “We want to hear your master plan for this heist before we agree to anything.” 

He’s asking for a plan, a plan that you do not have.

You aren’t sure how he figured it out, perhaps it was the slight darting of your eyes as you thought of a response, but he seemed to read you like a book. He snorts loudly, “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“You’ve done this before, you’d know better.”

“And if I led you astray?”

You look at him, this time right into his dark eyes, “Then you lead me astray.” 

“Your contentment with death is wildly unsettling.” There’s a ghost of a sneer at his lip. 

“I’d rather be lounging in the bottom of the ocean than live with a prospective future with my father.” 

“So I’ve heard.”

There’s a huff that leaves you as you steel your voice. “I’m not trying to set you up if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“I doubt you’d have that capability,” he says as he leans his forearms over the railing. You briefly consider pushing him over but think better of it. 

As much as you wanted to be a sneaky link, you simply didn’t have that trait. You blame all the dependency your father’s fostered into you, ensuring that you couldn’t rule without his influence. 

“Are you willing to brew a plan or not? I need to time my dip in the ocean accordingly,” you say, sounding almost disgruntled.

He lets out a big sigh, “Follow me.”

He’s made himself familiar with the ship, you soon realise, as he leads you right downstairs to the lower deck towards the war room. When he opens the door, the room is lit with lamps, casting a golden glow on the reddish interior, warmer than the rest of the ship. 

“Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid,” he tells you as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the cabin. 

You only exhale in response as you turn away from the door, towards the large table in the centre. It’s slightly cluttered, studying the scrawled notes as you realise they’re all from the Admiral, his directions and plans of course littered across the table. Turning towards the map on the walls, you lift a finger to trace the lifted ridges of snow capped mountains, trailing towards the dipped shallows of the blue water. 

It was an exact replica of the tactile map in the war room back home, and you’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia. Not that you’d been away from home for too long, but the end result of what you're about to do, regardless of the outcome, would change your life forever. 

You feel yourself breathing in the lingering scent of mildew, a strange comfort in the warm quarters.

There’s a creak at the door, and you quickly retract to find the pirate captain back at the door, walking in with a trail of men behind him. You recognise them by their faces, watching as they all take their places in the edges of the room. They look relaxed. You note the pirate captain taking his place behind the main drawing table. 

“Your throne, miss princess.” He gestures exaggeratedly towards the lone cushioned chair across from him. You’re hyper aware of all the eyes that are trailed on you, and you feel almost embarrassed to take the only seat. 

It only lasts for a moment. You walk up to the chair with what you hope exuded confidence and take your place across from the pirate captain. His men circle the edge of the room, and you count five other men. 

He sighs, “I think introductions are in order.”

“Mingyu, Minghao,” he points to the two men that had inspected your window right after you tried breaking it open. 

“Jun,” he gestures to the one who had found you in your quarters the night it all went wrong. 

“Seungkwan and Chan,” you recognize the latter as the one who’d tied you to the mast at his captain’s command. 

“They’ll be helping kill your dear father.” 

It’s silent for a moment as you attempt to moisten your mouth. You’re reminded you haven’t eaten or drank for hours, not since one of them had come up with a tray of whatever they could find for you from the reserves. 

“I know I may not be the most admissible person to trust, or vice versa—” You hear someone snort but choose to ignore it. “But I’m willing to make myself useful to you if it means you would help me too.”

“Would it not be easier to lock him up instead?” someone asks, and you turn to find Seungkwan asking the question from next to the tactile map. 

“He has too many people indebted to him, too many that are too loyal for their own good. I cannot truly rule for as long as he’s alive and well.”

“And how do you expect his loyal court mongers to let you bid favour to the people who killed their king?” the pirate captain asks with a raised brow. 

“Which is why it needs to look like an accident.” 

“How do you reckon we go about that?”

“What message have you given the Admiral?”

“You don’t answer a question with another question—”

“We need to be transparent with each other if either of us wants to make it out relatively unscathed.”

He doesn’t look too happy but he answers anyway, “My ship and five hundred thousand for all our trouble. Two months from now at the Green Islands up north.”

The Green Islands were anything but green, the glaciers being near uninhabitable owed to the ruthless weather. It was smart enough, it’d be near impossible to bring as much violent power that far north, no matter how influential anyone is.  

“Is five hundred thousand all I’m worth?” you feel the beginnings of a sneer rise up your mouth. You aren’t sure what prompted it but you don’t want to fight it either. 

“Didn’t know I was bartering for a fucking princess’ case, did I?” he snaps. “Now tell us how you want us to commit the undetected homicide of a King.”

“We need to blow up his ship.” To your surprise (and maybe even a little horror), the pirate captain breaks into a slight grin. Neither do you miss other bits of his crew releasing a bit of a snicker. 

There’s a flare of defiance within you, “Do you have any better ideas then?” 

“No, no. Go on,” he says with his head hung. You’re surprised he has the character to shield his smile. 

“He doesn’t frequent the seas but I’m almost sure he’d be present at the exchange.”

“Almost?” he questions.

You hesitate. The combined chance of needing the crown home and seeing to the downfall of his enemies would be enough warmth to send him to the greenlands himself. You were confident, but your father could also be unpredictable.

“He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.” 

The pirate captain lifts his head, locking eyes with you. You try not to look as weak as you felt, as unsure as you felt, pooling all the remaining confidence into your face. 

He swallows before looking away, addressing one of the crew members. “How big are we talking?”

Jun looks up like he’s only just begun to pay attention, fumbling over the revolver in his hands as it thuds to the ground like a theatrical mistake, “What?”

His captain sighs before replying, “Explosion. How big does it need to be to blow up a naval ship with a King on it?”

The man brings a hand up to the back of his head, scratching his nape. “If it’s anything like this one, we’re gonna need a lot of ammo.” 

“Just enough to sink it,” you speak before you could decide not to. “Even better if they don’t realise it’s happening.”

He thinks for a moment. “We could plant it in the bilge somehow.”

“But how do we get on that ship? When they’re giving us a tour of the lower decks?” The man you recall as Seungkwan scoffs. 

“Throw a grenade on board somehow?” you hear one of them suggest. 

“Real subtle, Chan,” you hear another mock. 

The war room is in shambles before you know it, loud voices talking over threats to slit throats and to shove people overboard. The room is humid and it feels as though the light from the oil lamps are fading. You close your eyes amidst the utter chaos, rubbing the heel of your palm on your temple in an attempt to soothe the throbbing vein. 

“Enough!” The pirate captain has spoken and you have the urge to ask what took him so long. 

Tranquility once again and you almost thank the man. Before anyone can say another word, nausea begins to build in your stomach. 

It takes you a minute to realise the room was spinning and that you weren’t completely losing your mind. The ship begins to rock harder as the seconds tick by, everybody in the room seemingly still as they perceive the change.

“Batten down the hatches,” the pirate captain says to no one in particular.

Chan is the only one who moves to the door to leave before he’s interrupted. 

“All of you. Those clouds weren’t looking too nice up there, we’ve got a storm on our hands.”

By everyone he surely did not mean you, because as the room rushes out and you hear the thuds of boots clamouring up to the main deck, you’re left alone with the captain. Yet again.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep steady, and you wonder how he’s able to remain balanced while on his feet. It isn’t long before your chair begins to slide as well, the legs croning as they slip on the hardwood. You spring up on instinct, hands coming to the bolted down drawing table to stabilise yourself. 

The pirate captain seems unphased, moving the curtains on the far end to try to get a glimpse at where the water breaks. He steps like he knows exactly where the evermoving floor would be, barely glancing below to gauge his footing. 

“Shouldn’t you be up there?” There’s effort in your voice, your grip on the table as hard as ever as the ship banks to a hard left. He barely grabs the wall in support. 

“Huh? They can figure it out themselves, they’re big boys,” he grunts.

“Your big boys were at each other’s throats a moment ago,” you grunt back, stumbling at a particularly forceful lurch. 

“If you weren’t so ill prepared they wouldn’t need to use their brains, that’s always dangerous,” he shoots back. He’s on the other end of the room, pushing the unbolted cabinet back in its place 

“I gave you a job and it's up to you to see it done, I’m not—ah— I’m not supposed to be planning at all!” 

“Are you?” He’s turned to look at you know, mouth hitched in a snarl as his forehead reflects a light sheen. “Because trying to murder a—”

“Trying to murder a King isn’t a normal task,” you finish for him in a hiss. “Yes, as you’ve reiterated a million times.”

“Great, so you know!” Sarcasm is a deadly look on him, you realise as he walks over from the cabinet to where you were in the middle of the room. The waves have given in, the rocking becoming significantly slower. “Now do you mind telling us about a plan that actually has better odds?”

Your white knuckles have relented, the hands that gripped the table coming loose as you stare back at the pirate in defiance. “I should just hand you over.”

“It’s sweet you think you’re in charge here,” the grit in his voice is evident. “This isn’t your turf anymore, miss princess.”

“You don’t trust me, and you don’t give me reason to trust you—ugh.”

The waves seemed to have decided she hadn’t had enough just yet, this particular lurch sending you hurtling backwards into the wall, back hitting the hardwood as the stable pirate himself loses his footing. You could almost believe you’d landed sideways with the gravity that’s lost its way beneath your feet. 

The chair you were once sitting on is hurtling towards you with a vengeance, gaining momentum as you simply watch it approach like a wooden bullet. A boot clad foot kicks it to the other end and you realise the pirate captain’s gotten hold of his bearings before you have. 

“What happened to being transparent with one another?” he huffs, breathless and wide eyed as he attempts to pull himself to his feet. 

There’s another lurch that sends you both skidding towards the table, just short of grabbing on before you’re hurtled into the cabinet that had moved again, and now slams back into the wall with the weight of the sea and two humans with a bang!

“Fine. You give me your ammo to blow up the bilge, let me on the ship with my dear father and one of you scoops in and saves me before I drown with him,” you yell over the sounds of clanging and banging of everything on this cursed ship, and the whooshing and thunders of the skies, winds and water. “And if I riddled the chances of you letting me drown with my father? Where does that leave me?”

“On the bottom of the seabed,” he deadpans. “But that also leaves me without my freedom.”

You find the opportunity to look at him for a moment, and he’s looking at you too. He looks away towards the door, already making moves to walk out and join his crew above deck. The conversation was over, and it was evident in your lack of reply.

Mother nature, however, sends another one in as a surprise and you're both sent flying to the other end of the ship, yet again. 

There’s a cushion to your blow this time as you find yourself landing right into the pirate captain’s chest, hand above his heart in your instinct to save yourself any more bruises. Between your bickering and the staggering of the ship, his shirt had flown open nearly down to his navel. 

Your eyes barely register the nasty scar across his left pec, instead moving upwards to lock eyes with him. It’s insanity, how you instinctively dart your eyes towards his half open mouth. 

“If you wanted me that bad, miss princess, you could’ve just asked.”

Whatever airborne drug that’d been willy nillying in your noggin seems to spin into a rage as his words register a moment too late. Clenched jaw and a vice grip on his shirt, you spit back. 

“I don’t ask for things. They come to me.”

There’s a crash above you and you realise the oil lamp that was suspended above has shattered, raining glass over your forms. 

Expect you don’t feel it, because he’s ducked over you and suspended his arms in the air to catch the crystalline. 

Before you can decide whether it was instinct or not, you hear a yell at the door.

“Captain! One of the—oh.” 

A barely balancing Mingyu, is staring into the now dimly lit war room, his captain and their supposed prisoner pressed against one another in a dark corner of the room. 

Your instinct forces you to take a slow step backwards. 

“Get back up,” he snarls, already pushing past you to stalk towards the door. He actually makes it this time, shoving Mingyu into the hall towards the stairs. 

Not as much as a glance back before he slams the door shut, leaving you in the tattered war room alone, shards of glass at your feet.

THE STORM SEEMS TO have done its damage as it calmed itself for the rest of the morning and well into the day. 

One of them had come down and escorted you to your quarters, Chan telling you that you could keep it while the rest of them adjusted in the other cots and quarters aboard. Changing out of your ragged, days old clothes felt luxurious, the familiar scent of your quarters putting your tense shoulders at ease; or at least a semblance of such. 

Neither you nor the captain have attempted to speak to each other after the incident in the war room. Having berated yourself for letting your guard down enough, you chalked it up to the lack of food and sleep and put the matter to rest in some deeply buried chest in your head. 

For now you board up the door of your cabin (because you haven’t completely lost it), and burrow under the covers for some much needed shut eye. 

You aren’t sure how long the universe lets you rest, because unless you’ve slept all the way to the Green Islands the banging on the door seems incessant enough to warrant an arrest of its own. The sleep is slow to leave, and it’s hard enough to push an entire drawer against a door, the bleariness paired with whoever the fuck was outside the door isn’t making it easier to push it away from the entrance either. 

By the time you’ve wrenched the door open, you’re thoroughly annoyed, and met with a very alarmed Seungkwan. 

“Oh thank goodness, I was about to try opening it,” he says, looking genuinely relieved. “I thought you might’ve….anyway.”

“You weren’t trying to break in before?” you ask.

He only thrusts a tray of rations and water towards you, “Captain said to give this to you.”

Accepting the tray, you try to balance it in one hand with furrowed brows, “Oh.”

“Um. That’s it, sorry for waking you up.” He makes a move like he’s about to turn around and leave but falters. “If…if you need anything a bunch of us are on the main deck.”

And then he’s gone. 

You take it as your cue to shut the door, kicking one of the heftier pieces of furniture against it before moving back inside. 

When you peer up your tiny window, it’s late afternoon and the beginnings of orange on the surface tell you the sun is beginning to set. You decide it was a good enough amount of sleep. Setting the tray down on the smaller than usual desk, you find that these pirates do not have a knack for subtlety. Many of your letters and papers are haphazardly stacked and shoved into one corner of the table, very obviously sifted through. 

Not that you care too much, there was nothing awfully important that you wouldn't have told them yourself. Ripping off a piece of bread from the tray, you take pleasure in chewing as loudly and as open mouthed as you wished, plucking the parchment at the top of the pile to study. 

It’s another one signed by your father, not a question of your wellbeing in sight as he scrawls ink on paper all the incorrect things you did in the Southerner’s banquet last month. If anything, you were glad the stupid Admiral was away from your presence, his incessant habit of reporting your every breath and turn to your father was becoming too much to handle. 

This was one of his tamer letters, less insults attached to his criticisms but a pain to read anyway. You don’t brush away the crumbs that fall onto the parchment. 

There is not a diplomatic bone in your body. Perhaps move on from drinks and dessert and into more important territories besides the Duke’s son. Our kingdom needs a ruler that’s strong, not one that forgets where she is after a sip of brandy!

If you squint hard enough, it almost reads as a parent scolding a child for a spill, like regardless of what you did, he might just love you the same. 

You wonder how good of a mood he was in when he wrote this. 

Sifting through the rest of the papers you take a mental note of every reason he’s given you to believe that you’d be a hopeless ruler, a few years ago you even questioned why he kept you around before realising his contradicting intentions. As you read, letter by letter, you think of reasons you know are going to make you a better ruler, better than him and better than his stupid court of old men.

These pirates are a blessing, you think, and you aren’t about to let this chance from the universe drown in these waters.

HOSHI ISN'T IN TROUBLE. No, he isn’t. On his butt on the sleek floorboards of the ship, his own golden dagger glinting in the sunlight as it's held in a threatening hold, except it isn’t in his hands. 

It’s pointed right into his jugular vein, held by some grimy sailor who considers himself something akin to a pirate. Perhaps the stench this sorry excuse of a crew carries around may be their idea of a criteria, but as Hoshi remains inches away from death, all he can think about is the atrocious fingers around his dagger, and all the scrubbing he’s going to be doing after this is all over. 

Mingyu had warned him, told him to take down the flag of the navy from the mast, the royal seal in the smack middle of the ginormous thing. He brushed it off. He wasn’t quite sure if he was tipsy, hungry or just plain exhausted when he made that decision, because he’d forgotten just how stupid some of these simpleton sailors could get. 

They were taken by surprise, their only weapons mops and buckets of soapy water as they were ambushed by some overlooked wherry that had suddenly thrown hooks over their railing and climbed up like uninvited sewer rats. 

In the initial confusion, interrupted mid-chorus of some pretty siren and her pirate prince, the first few intruders had simply crumpled over onto the slippery deck, a few slipping overboard completely from the suds and water on the wood. His crew, and Hoshi himself, could only stand and watch as the newcomers sabotaged themselves for a few incredulous moments before they gained their bearings. 

Chan and Seungkwan swang their mops right into the necks of a couple, sending them into the ocean without waiting for a splash. 

Hoshi slips out his dagger with practised ease, swinging the butt of the hilt over the head of another ambushing intruder, right on the head as he crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. He kicks him over for an indication of where he came from. No ink that shows an alliance, no brooch or jewels with a crest. 

New guys, ones that were clearly still learning the ropes. 

Hoshi’s crew had better senses than required for him to yell out orders, and it only took a few more disgruntled minutes to disable the remaining extra men aboard. 

“Where the fuck did these guys come from?” he asks no one in particular, mostly just annoyed that they were disturbed. 

Minghao, who’s peeking over the railing replies, “It’s a tiny thing. They either lost their actual boat or didn’t have one at all.”

He vaguely registers him making a jerking arm movement over the exterior before he hears a wail and a splash. “Disgusting.” Minghao holds his hands away from his body like he didn’t want it anymore. 

Hoshi’s mistake was keeping his guard down, because before anyone could warn him, the dagger that he held loosely against his hip had slipped out his palm. The next thing he knows, his neck is in some grimy sleeve’s grip, and the point of his dagger is lodged into his own throat. He holds his breath, afraid he might pass out completely from the stench alone. 

“Not a move.” He sounds like a boy more than anything, but his grip indicates a harsher life. “Everybody into that fishing boat. I’ll throw this one in when you’re done.” 

He sounds unstable, but that only makes him more dangerous. Hoshi can’t try to wiggle his way out of this one, one wrong move and it’s the end. His crew can’t do anything as they stand with broken mops and empty buckets as their weapons. 

It was stupid of him to even allow himself to be cornered like this, not when he’s weaselled his way out of more dangerous situations with more ease than this. 

His crew looks at him, and he can only close his eyes in encouragement. He watches as Jun steps over one of the defeated bodies to reach the hooks that’ve lodged into the railing. His movements are slow, and he can tell he notices the unhinged nature of this boy that he doubts is barely over 17. 

Chan follows, then Seungkwan as Jun double checks the integrity of the ropes. He’s stalling. 

“Hurry!” It was supposed to come out as a threat, but it sounded more like a plea from the boy. 

And then Jun stops completely, his eyes trained on Hoshi. His eyes are wide, his grip on the rope so tight he can see the whites of his knuckles from the other side of the ship. 

No, he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking behind him. Before he can register, there’s a loud bang of a gunshot, and Hoshi feels the body of his captor slump against his back, his dagger dropping to the ground with an ominous clang. He falls with him, turning over to push the dead weight of the body off of him. 

There’s smoke in the air when Hoshi looks back and it takes him a moment to realise who just basically saved his life. 

You stand in your nightgown, shawl over your shoulders, and a revolver, Jun’s revolver, clenched tightly in both hands. It remains frozen in the air, hovering as he takes in your face. Eyes wide, mouth open slightly, the colour drained from your face. 

Hoshi scrambles to get up as the rest of the crew swarm both him and you. He grabs his dagger before anything else, looking back to see a bullet lodged in the back of his captor’s skull, blood pooling the deck. 

He looks back at you shoving the revolver back into Jun’s hands eagerly, like you didn’t want to feel the warmth of the metal any more than you wanted to make that shot. 

He looks back at the cooling body, and then back at you, an undeniable warmth overcoming his chest. 

You just saved his life.

“Are you alright?” he hears Chan ask you. You nod slowly, and then quickly. 

“Where did you find this?” Jun asks. 

“Uh, in one of the quarters. Downstairs. I went down because I thought it’d be safer, you were handling it and I didn’t want to get in the way. But then…all your weapons were there.” 

Your voice sounds airy, like you were in a daze. Hoshi comes to the stark realisation that this may have been your first time with a weapon, and then even more horrifying, your first kill. 

“I’m sorry, I just thought it was getting out of hand and—” 

“It’s alright,” Seungkwan says. He watches as you let him lead you back down the stairs below decks. 

It was like the shock turned you into a different person, complacent, less defiant. Seungkwan clearly had more of an emotional range, because it certainly took Hoshi too long to realise you might be on the edge of panic. 

Hoshi doesn’t say a word as you disappear, the smell of gunpowder from the singular shot wafting through the deck. He doesn’t realise he’s staring into space until Mingyu interrupts. 

“Should we—”

“Throw them overboard,” Hoshi says, voice flat. 

“But, this one seems like he’ll come around. We could question him and drop him off wherever next—”

“He’s a shit seaman, if even a pirate, he’s got what came for him. Throw. Him. Overboard.” Hoshi is out of breath, yet grits the words out through clenched teeth. “All of them.”

Hoshi slips his dagger back into its sheath at his hip. All he can think about is your blown pupils and you in your nightgown. All he can think about is how they were almost bested by a child. All he can think about is how you had to make that final shot to save his ass, that he couldn’t do it himself. 

Mingyu senses his mood and asks no more questions, simply pushing the remaining bodies out into the water. He vaguely registers Minghao sending the men a prayer into the sea. Mingyu’s already trying to get the stupid naval flag off the mast, stripping off his jacket and disposing of it at the base to start climbing. 

Chan pushes a clean rag into his chest, and he looks down to receive it and notes a tinge of blood at his collar. Right, he was bleeding. 

They go back to cleaning, except it’s a lot more silent. 

Jun walks back up to help, but this time he has both of his clean, black revolvers strapped at his hip.

THERE WERE FEWER PEOPLE in the war room this time around, the captain sits beside Mingyu, Jun and Minghao as they attempt to sketch out a crude rendition of your discussion. The pirate captain does nothing but use his dagger to pick under his nails, barely speaking as he listens in on the conversation. 

Not that you cared, you and the rest of his crew seemed to get along better than you did with the captain anyway. Saving the man’s life seemed to hold no weight to him, not that you expected it but a ‘thank you’ would have sufficed. 

“Keep the grenade til the last minute if it makes you feel better, so you’ll know I’m not trying to sink the wrong ship,” you sigh as you clarify. Minghao doesn’t reply as he scribbles the details. Jun rolls his eyes at his meticulous nature. 

“We need to port in the next couple days if I’m gonna finish this grenade in time,” he says, looking at his captain pointedly. 

“We can stop at Port Ash,” Hoshi says. 

Port Ash was no man’s land, which also meant it was every man’s land. 

Being mostly occupied by pirates and other thieves and criminals it was considered dangerous territory for anyone who didn’t speak in lies, deceit and fists. This crew would fit right in, but you worry for yourself. 

“That’s not gonna be till a week and a half,” Mingyu interjects. 

Jun frowns as he looks at Mingyu and then back at his captain, “I can’t wait that long.”

“We’ll pick up what we can at Hasry when we stop for rations,” Hoshi replies. 

“But—”

“Deal with it. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

Jun looks like he wants to say something, and Mingyu has the good sense to interject again to ask more questions about the plan. 

“How much manpower do you think the king’ll have?” he asks.

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “I have no idea. Could be five, could be fifty.”

“Not even an inkling?”

“Considering how he wants the lot of you gone, it’s probably on the larger side. But…” you pause. 

“But?”

“He’s smart. Always seemingly one step ahead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he catches us blind.” 

“I know enough about that,” Hoshi snorts. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests something, but you don’t press.

“I was wondering…we should probably change course even if it takes us longer. My father might intercept—”

“Did that. Didn’t take the obvious alternative route either,” Mingyu replies, and you note that he looks proud of himself. “We can take our time too, the ransom note suggested we took the way past Scarsfield.”

“We should be careful of other boats anyway,” you say, gulping down a lump in your throat before continuing. “Those other sailors could’ve been my father’s men too, for all we know.”

“They were on a smaller boat too,” Hoshi adds, he looks like he’s making connections in his brain. “What’re the odds they were dropped farther back into a smaller boat?”

There’s a pause as you absorb what he’s implying. “Are you saying they’re on our tail?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says, exhaling heavily through his nose. “He’s done it before. It was a sorry attempt then and it was a sorry attempt now.”

“How did you shake him off last time?”

The panic in your chest is barely there, but as you register the possibility, you find yourself breathing increasingly heavy. 

“Circling farther out before going the opposite way so we wouldn’t cross paths.” He shakes his head. “But we can’t do that now, not when we can’t afford detouring. The port stops are as late as I’m willing to go.”

“What if we skip Hasry? It’s our more obvious stop, we’ll just stop at Ash later,” Minghao suggests. 

“We’ll starve, we’ve got no food,” Hoshi gruffs.

“Portwater?” 

“Too far.”

It’s silent yet again as everyone racks their brains. You feel very useless all of a sudden, you didn’t know the names of harbours or ports this far out.

“We’ll just port at Hasry and be extra careful, there’s nothing we can do.” Hoshi sighs at his own ultimatum. 

He gets up and walks around the table to the door, “I’ll update the others.”

You glance as he walks past you, his figure leaving a gust of wind in your face. He smelled nice, which was saying something considering the state some pirates are known to be in. As he brushes past, your gaze is met with the other side of the war room, an empty oil lamp bracket on the wall. 

The memory of the storm floods your mind, and suddenly your cheeks are burning. Snapping your head back, you're thankful they’re all absorbed in the papers and plans on the table, oblivious to the memory that’s flashed before your eyes. Mingyu was the one who saw you in your compromising position, and you didn’t know him well enough to decide whether he’d do something as dumb as dish out his captain’s ‘affairs’. 

You file out the room with them. They don’t escort you to your rooms, make sure you stay in one place, restrict your wandering anymore. Perhaps they’d realised you weren’t actively attempting to sink the ship anymore, or that if you jumped off the edge it didn’t matter to them that much, but you appreciated the space anyway. 

Briefly catching Seungkwan filling Mingyu in on the past couple hours they’d been below deck, you turn over to catch his eye. He waves, and you wave back. You don’t realise what you did till it already happened, noting the smile on his face as he did it. You choose to move past it and find the captain. 

There was something you wanted from him. 

There’s no trace of him on the main deck, eyes scanning the area to no avail. A movement from above catches your peripheral attention, eyes squinting as you crane your neck up to look. Hoshi has leaned his back against the railing of the crow’s nest, arms crossed, visible hand occupied with a brass telescope that glints in the sunlight. 

He isn’t using it though, merely gazing at the horizon with furrowed brows. As though he could see better without the device in his hand. In the few minutes that you’re looking at him, you notice the muraled, multicoloured shirt that blows with the wind, a kaleidoscope of beiges, greens and reds. The crop of his blonde hair blends in with the clear blue-white sky. 

Briefly wondering how he’s managing the impossible heat, a hand coming over your own eyes as a visor, you simply look back down. Seungkwan is next to you. You aren’t quite sure how he got there, but he stands next to you, hands on his hips, a pleasant expression on his face. 

“Is there anything you want when we dock? We’re trying to make a list,” he says. Somehow, the prospect of pirates making lists boggled you a little. It was a little jarring, not quite sure why he asked a captive anyway.

But then again, were you a captive anymore?

“I don’t think so, no,” you reply and then juggle whether you should push it with another measly formality. “Thank you for asking.”

“That was your first kill, wasn’t it?”

“What?” You knew what he was talking about, but you weren’t expecting him to bring it up in the moment when he’s asking you about restocking supplies. And especially not with a smile on his face. 

“That day, when you used Jun’s revolver to shoot the lad.” 

A kid. He was a child. 

“I…yeah I’d never done it before.”

“What made you do it?” he asks, remaining as nonchalant as ever. 

“I—I don’t know, it looked like there wasn’t another option,” you say, not quite sure of yourself either. 

Why did you shoot him? You’d never laid hands on a gun before, your father forced you into the category of archery and crossbows, not that you were very good at them either but it was also because you simply wanted to spite your father by being plain bad. It worked, because it only took a year and a half and an arrow straight into his study window to retire from the sport entirely.

Even then, your targets had been apples, barrels and tree trunks. Never a person. 

You’d heard of what people tended to do in pressuring situations, and with the way the aftermath unfolded, it didn’t seem like you made the wrong decision to pick up that revolver anyway. 

But the feeling lingers, the same one that you saw as you gazed into the back of the boy that held the captain of this ship hostage. It felt wrong. Like watching the pirate captain cornered was a picture you couldn’t quite make sense of in your head. 

So you pulled the trigger. 

“In any case, we’re glad you made that decision. We all owe you for it.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you gulp, inhale and press your lips in a line. “That’s a lot for a pirate to say.”

“I know.”

BY THE TIME YOU manage to corner Hoshi it’s already the next day, and you’re only a couple hours away from docking at Hasry. 

It’s an anxious ordeal, the crow’s nest constantly occupied by someone trying to catch sight of a possible tail. There was no sign, yet anyway. 

“I want to learn to use a knife.”

He was piling coiled ropes when you’d said it, pushing the heap to the side, sweating through his clothes. There was a flash of confusion on his face as he registered you. 

“Why? So you can slit all our throats in our sleep?” he grumbles as he pushes a barrel against the railing. He’s too aggressive, and the force has the splashback soaking his clothes in freshwater, tsk-ing audibly. 

You ignore the way his previously loose shirt now sticks to him, ignore the way the droplets land on your boots when he shakes his sleeve. 

“We’ve discussed what we might be up against, I don’t want to be useless when the time comes.”

“Seemed pretty alright with that revolver.”

“Anyone can shoot a gun,” you say, getting the sudden urge to fidget with the front of your shirt. You try to make your voice sound as declarative as possible. “I want to learn to fight. With a knife, with a sword, with my hands if I have to.” 

He doesn’t say anything as you look down, fiddling with the tassels on your shirt. Your excuse was the sun and the way it was beating down on the deck this afternoon, getting tired of squinting to simply look straight. When the silence prolongs you look up to push further, juggling with bringing up the fact that you saved his life and that, as Seungkwan very graciously told you, he owes you. 

The sound your throat makes is unhuman, because when you look up the captain's soaked shirt is now off his back. 

The skin is near white from the glare of the sun, remnants of glazed water that’s somehow made its way to his back as well. The dip in his shoulder blade reflected a dark marking, one that you couldn’t make out. 

He wrings it as you can only watch, mouth gaping like a fish. Hanging it over one of the suspended ropes to dry, he mutters as he walks to the lower decks. 

“Fine,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ll get you a knife at Hasry.”

Hasry. Right. 

The port is quiet, at least as quiet as a port can be. There’s not much to see but fishermen both returning and leaving for another week's worth of fish supply. Minghao manages to pay and convince the harbourmaster that they were merchants on their way back to the Kingdom, stopping for supplies. The naval make of the ship helped, and then the crew pulled lines and ropes secured from masts in ways you couldn’t quite decipher. 

You assumed you would stay on board, yet when Chan knocked and brought you some roughspun clothes from the town, you were informed you’d be joining them. 

Hoshi deemed it safer, keeping the rest of the crew on board while he, along with you and Seungkwan, ventured into the village to get what was needed and leave before the sun fully set. If they really were being followed, the ship was going to be the first thing they seized. 

Pulling the grey shawl further up your head, you attempt to look as blended as you could, Chan pressing down your shoulders to force you into a slouch. 

“Stop walking like you're important,” he had said. 

“I’m a princess,” you snapped back, but he wasn’t listening, only jabbing at you to keep the haughtiness out of your tone before it caught somebody’s attention. 

The town was a quaint little place, something out of what you were read from storybooks, reminiscent of the paintings that you’d run past on the walls of the palace. The streets cleaner than you’d expected, the faint scent of baked goods in the air mixed with, onion soup, was it? In any case you were glad you were past the fish market, the yelling and the stench nearly sending you to the pavement, gagging. 

When Hoshi returns, you and Chan are looking at a jewellery stall that’s selling necklaces, bracelets and anklets that look like rosaries; colours of deep ocean blue and sunset pinks, beautifully vibrant against their grey canvas backdrop. 

You can only observe from afar, instructed to not interact with anyone while he was gone. Hoshi was gone to get food supplies, but returned empty handed. Systems were in place, that the crates would be on their way to the “big naval ship” at the docks for the rest of the crew to receive.

“They said there was a blacksmith up this alley” Hoshi says, eyes also trained on the uncharacteristically colourful jewellery stall, but he does nothing to move towards it. “We can get your knife there.”

“Knife?” Chan asks, confused. 

“Miss princess wants to learn to fight—”

“Don’t!” Chan hisses, eyeing the men in black uniform that patrol the market from the shadows. 

“It’s fine, they’re too far,” Hoshi says. “Let’s get this over with.”

You do find a blacksmith, an older man with a greying beard and bloodshot eyes that presents Hoshi and Chan with an array of knives and daggers. Either they were able to give an excuse, or he gave no mind to the third woman that trailed behind, the blacksmith continued to deal with the two men as they haggle over prices. 

There’s another seller a ways away, and she’s laid out her goods on the floor on what looks like old drapes. It’s a woman, not much older than you were, unravelling a long string of leather cord. She cuts it, strings a charm through and seals the frayed end with a candle flame that burns at her side. 

The curtain she’s laid her accessories on is patterned with bright colours, and you realise you can’t make out any of it from where you stand. 

Glancing behind you, the men are still occupied with their bartering, seemingly forgetting of your presence. Taking a step back, you pretend to skim through the neighbouring stalls, glancing breezily at woven baskets, layers of folded fabric and towers of painted ceramic cups. 

You stop before the laid out array of more necklaces and earrings, scanning the ground. The vendor looks up and gives you a big, crooked toothed smile, urging you to come forward, to take a look at what she has to offer. 

Something does catch your eye, and you immediately crouch down to see it better. Picking up the necklace from the charm, you let the gold and red rest on your fingers as you study the make. 

“That one’s new,” the woman says. “Practical too.”

The small brass letter opener that’s looped through the cord looks like it could do its job just fine despite its miniscule size. 

“It’s quite popular among the busy merchants,” the vendor speaks in a rough tone, almost like she had a perpetual sore throat. “Easier to use this instead of looking for those bulky ones in their neverending drawers and—and in their cabinets.”

She lets out a laugh, “Quite pretty too.”

You stare at it for a moment, “How much?”

“Ten coin.”

You sigh, setting the necklace back down onto the cloth. Standing straight, you turn to walk away before she yells again. 

“I’ll do seven!” 

You consider whether you should speak, but you also doubt you’d be recognized just by the sound of your voice.

"I don’t have coin,” you rasp. 

“How about that pretty thing on your finger then?” she asks. 

The ring on your middle finger is a simple band of silver, a coming of age present from your father’s court a few years ago. You stare at the band, worth boatloads more than what this woman in an alley was offering you.

But you find yourself moments later, middle finger empty, and pocket lined with the long leather necklace with the miniature letter opener charm. 

By the time you return to the blacksmith’s shop front, Chan is handing the man his coin as Hoshi holds an object sheathed in fabric. They turn around just soon enough to make it seem like you never left. 

“Why are you standing so far away?” Chan asks. “Come closer.”

You listen, moving closer to the both of them as they get ready to make the trek back to the docks where the ship waits. 

“The crates have probably been loaded too,” Hoshi says, his hands suddenly empty. You assume he’s pocketed the knife somewhere. “Let’s hurry and leave before—”

“Princess?”

It was your mistake that you turned around to acknowledge the title, something you realise as soon as you register the man that spoke to you. 

Henley was a stout man, dressed even now in the finest suit of a berry colour, hair white as a ghost. There was no reason for a merchant so rich he had ties with the royal family to be wandering in a harbour market, but he also had every reason to be here. 

If it was the recognition in your eyes, or the fact that they were just being smart, you feel one of the pirates wrap their fingers around your upper arm and pull you to walk away from the alley. 

“Princess!” Henley yells and you cringe at his volume. People are looking now, and you briefly wonder why you aren’t running yet. 

Your heart is pounding against your chest so hard it’s deafening any other sound in your ears, you still don’t know which one has a hold of you, but you let them guide you into a speed walk as you exit the narrow alleys of the main market. 

The shawl above your head is pushed further down, shielding your face in a shadow. There’s nothing in your mind other than Clarence Henley and his rich suit, his gold pocket watch, his trimmed, white hair. His face that you only ever saw within palace walls, always accompanied by your father. 

There’s a good chance you’re shaking, because you can feel your body rejecting it with the pain in your palms that you can only consider to be your own nails pressing into your hand. 

The stench of the fish market helps, bringing you back from your daze as you finally register the ground beneath your feet. It’s only a few more minutes till you reach the docks and you’re suddenly being pushed up the ramp that leads to the main deck of the ship.

It’s immediate comfort, the familiar brown of the floorboards, the scent of saltwater and warping sounds of the sails. You’re led to your quarters, where you finally let the makeshift hood and cape fall. 

“Are you alright?” 

Snapping your head up, you’re met with Seungkwan and his concerned gaze. 

“Oh, erm.” Your voice sounds…not like your own. 

“It’s okay, breathe.” It helps, because it really did feel like you’d forgotten to breathe. 

“We’re leaving in just a few, everything’s been loaded. Nobody followed you on board, don’t worry.”

Right. You were on the ship, you were in your quarters with some of the most feared pirates on the seas. 

The way Seungkwan is easing you through your gulps of water suggests legends in the mix, but you appreciate it regardless. 

When you’ve come round, feeling more like yourself, the ship has already left Hasry Harbour, sailing into the deeper waters of the ocean. 

“Captain said they couldn’t run because it just would’ve been more suspicious,” Seungkwan informs you as you nod. “Did you…did you recognise him? The man at the market.” 

The thoughts come flooding back, the colour of his suit, the jarring nature of a man of such wealth standing in a rundown port market. 

“He’s a merchant, one of the wealthiest. A friend of my father’s. If he even has any friends.” 

You pause as you think about the near blackout you’d had, the way the panic more than boiled over, taking over your senses and your rationality. 

“I think…” you trail off. “I think I just felt like it was the end. I finally had an opportunity to get rid of that tyrant and seeing something that was from home, felt…it felt like I was going to end up right back where I started.”

Seungkwan doesn’t say a word as you digest your own words, accepting your own fear that had rendered you useless in the time it probably mattered most. 

“Do you feel better now?”

“A little,” you answer. 

“Maybe a weapon can help.”

At the door stands Hoshi, a stern expression on his face as he looks directly at you on the bed. In his hands, the same fabric covered knife he acquired at the market. 

You know that you asked for this, but the jolt in your stomach still makes itself known. 

“He’s right,” Seungkwan says, lifting from his chair. “Blades have a way of calming you in any case.”

You note the glinting hilt of Seungkwan’s sword sheathed at his hip, remember Hoshi’s own daggers that he seems to be emotionally attached to. 

Lifting your head back to Hoshi, you ask, “Can we start now?”

He smirks. 

ALL NIGHT, THE STUPID pirate captain had you taking swings at the air. 

“Your opponent’s baked a fruit cake by the time you were done with that swing,” he comments, continuously unhelpful. “Swing faster.”

It’s nighttime, nothing but a few oil lamps on the floor of the deck keeping you and Hoshi in the light. Your shoulder burns, your forearms are liquid, and your non-existent opponent remains forever stronger than you. 

“I’m done,” you huff, thoroughly spent. Crumbling to the floor, you bring your non-dominant hand up to your aching shoulder in an attempt to massage it. 

It’s been a while, the moon high up in the sky when you finally decide to quit it for the night. He lets you go without a fight, and you doubt you’d have the energy to if he decided to do it anyway. 

The following day, he’s tweaked his regiment a little, and you find that you’re finally swinging at something tangible; him. 

He leaves himself open, an invitation to strike wherever you want. You feign for his shoulder, but he sees you coming from a mile away, already deflecting your flattened blade that comes for his thigh.

“Don’t look where you want to strike, you’re giving yourself away.”

Furrowing your brows, you dislodge your knife from his own and back away again. He’s immediately cocking a brow, telling you to come at him again. You go for his middle, slashing your knife in an arc as he simply deflects. 

“Come on, find a pace,” he grunts. 

Coming down with your knife again, he blocks you but this time with his forearm, pushing you back by the wrists. It was a battle of strength, as he forces your wrists down. He was stronger than you, and there was no way you could push away, so you dispel your own force. He stumbles from the sudden forward force, and you pull away to take a swing from above. 

He recovers faster than you thought he would, already coming up when you’re ready to swing. He raises a hand to deflect, half a moment too late as your blade slashes across the heel of his hand. 

There’s a brief splash of red against the blue backdrop of the sky, and you gasp on instinct, immediately moving away. 

There’s an apology ready on your lips, mouth gaping as you watch him inspect the wound. You don’t get to say anything because he beats you to it. 

“Deep enough,” he comments, like he was inspecting a painting. “Keep this up and you might actually be good by the end of the week.”

Oh. 

“Alright,” he says again, moving back into position.

“Are you gonna wrap that?” you ask, referring to the bloody hand. 

“It’s fine, I’ve fought with worse,” he says. 

You blink as you reluctantly get back into position, bracing yourself as you continue to look at his hand dripping blood onto the deck. 

“You’re getting the hang of pacing, but you need to start considering your blade as an extension of yourself—JESUS!”

You’ve swung at him faster than you ever have, putting everything into that single tug of your knife. He wasn’t expecting it, still talking over your glances at his palm. He had his guard down, and you took the chance. He ducks on instinct, but it could’ve been another scar for him to remember if you’d made it. 

You stumble as he circles you to the other end, flattening his blade on your back.

“Nice try,” he says. “Really nice try. But you never turn your back to your opponent.”

“I lost my footing,” you defend, but even you knew that wasn’t an excuse. 

“And I just stabbed you in the back. And now I’ll have to present your corpse to your father and hope he’ll accept it and give me my ship. We all lose.” 

The pressure of the blade leaves your back and you're suddenly left looking stupid despite doing something somewhat right. 

“You’d just swindle another poor sailor off his boat and move on,” you say. “You’re a slippery thing.”

He has a smile on his face that borders a smirk yet is innocently mischievous enough. It’s a strange sight, bloody hand, relaxed face. There’s a clean-ish rag on a nearby closed barrel that he uses to wipe the excess blood off his hands. 

“I keep going because I live without regret.”

You can only roll your eyes as a scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You simply turn around, settling to the floor, going back to massaging your still aching shoulder. That last blow only made it worse.

“I don’t regret things, miss princess. Ask me why.”

You remain silent. 

“Come on,” he urges, that silly smile remaining on his face. He’s washing the wound now with freshwater from the barrel.

Sighing, you ask him, “Why?”

“Because I don’t ever do things I’d regret.”

“That insinuates you think before you act.”

“Right-O,” he declares, wrapping another torn cloth on his cleaned wound.

“Funny,” you answer. “Because I dont think I’ve ever seen any hint of light behind your eyes.”

He turns around to you, sheathing his dagger at his hip, a dangerous look in his eye.

“You’ve looked into my eyes?” 

The clench in your jaw must have been visible, or the look of disgust on your face might’ve been apparent just the same, because the pirate captain simply laughs out loud before retreating towards the stairs to go below deck. 

“I’ll send Jun up, practise with him.”

You wanted to send your knife, point first, hurtling into his retreating form. 

Never turn your back to your opponent, my ass. 

But you don’t, mostly because he’d probably manage to deflect that too. So you resort to sitting cross legged on the deck, staring at your dagger while waiting for Jun to meet you upstairs. 

Hoshi said he picked the knife based on a number of things you’d already forgotten, something about carbon steel and having a good grip. It’s quite pretty, you’ll have to admit. It’s plain silver, but the reflection it makes in the sun makes it difficult to look away. You’d gotten used to the handle and how it fit in your palm, Hoshi assured you that the more you used it, the more the hilt would mould into your grip. 

Jun stomps onto the deck, revolver-less and instead equipped with an array of knives that he deposits on the deck. 

“Should’ve picked a plain old gun,” he grumbles as he holds one of the longer blades in his hand. “Job’s done and you don’t need to get within ten feet.”

“Don’t have to reload a knife, do I?” you comment, taking the first swing. 

Jun may have an affinity for guns and explosives, but his handling with a knife was still nothing below an expert level. He pushes your arm off before spending you into a ballroom spin, flatting his blade at your collarbone. 

That could’ve been your throat.

“No, but by now I could’ve shot you, thrown you overboard, and been on my way to a nap,” he says in your ear, before releasing you as you get back into position again. 

That could’ve been your throat.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK PASSES with your days and nights muddled into a strange mixture of swinging knives and taking breaks slumped against the deck of the ship, unmoving. 

It’s a particularly hot day, the giant glowing orb beating down on the deck with no mercy. Not that it stops you, because the sun remains unwavering, high in the sky, and you remain unwavering in your wide legged stances as you lunge for Chan again. 

Chan’s entire being glistens in the afternoon light, the beads of sweat that he wipes off his forehead only seem to reappear every couple minutes. His clothes cling to him like a second skin, taking long breaths through his teeth amidst the difficult, humid air. 

You don’t doubt you look the same, one hand in your hair suggesting you just took a bath in your own sweat. But Chan seems accustomed to the heat, and while you weren’t, you couldn’t deny your growing comfortability with it all. 

It’d been a while since your meal, hence your sluggish movements were slowly turning increasingly sharp, having cornered Chan multiple times in the duration. You’re determined to not be the one to call for a time out, so you find yourself pushing beyond what you’ve been doing for the past week or so. 

There’s a particular punch of heat at your sides, and you can feel yourself slowing. 

One deep breath, a slow exhale.

It’s all clangs and reflections of knives, tiny droplets of blood as evidence of both of your tiny, unintentional nicks and cuts. You’re succeeding, pushing the man further and further back. 

“You’re getting sloppy, aim for the blade not my tendons,” Chan seethes through his teeth. 

“I’m trying,” you grunt through the effort. 

You’re set back for a couple minutes before you go back to pushing. Your lungs burn, your entire side is numb from exertion, but you give more than your body is made for, and you succeed—kind of. 

Chan back is against the railing of the deck before he realises it, and perhaps it was momentum, or sheer exhaustion, because one minute you’ve got eyes on Chan’s hands and his blade, and the next he’s gone. There’s a loud splash, and you suddenly realise what you’ve done. 

You just pushed Chan overboard. 

You scream before you can help it, dropping your knife with a loud, resonating clang. Pushing against the rails, you peer down to find a giant ripple on the surface of the ocean, whipping your head around to the stairs leading below deck to find Mingyu and Hoshi bounding upstairs. 

“What? Where’s Chan, he was supposed to be with you,” Hoshi asks, whipping his head around the deck. 

Your wide eyed, horrified response from near the edge tells them all they need to know. 

By the time Chan’s pulled himself on board, soaked and dripping like a wet poodle, you’ve sat yourself the furthest away from the railing to prevent any more trouble. He drops onto the floor, creating a human sized puddle. 

With the way the two men had merely sighed and threw the ladder over the exterior of the ship, you concluded that this must happen enough for them to be beyond the point of concern. It only adds to it when you see Mingyu nudge Chan’s unmoving but heaving body with the toe of his boot, giggling at his expense. 

You make your way over, crouching beside Chan sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that, got carried away.”

He’s sitting up now, quickly pulling himself back to his feet and you spring back from your crouched position. 

“It’s fine, happens.” He has a small smile on his face as he says it and you conclude that he may find the situation laughable as well. 

“Now, Chan,” Hoshi says, not letting Chan move into the deck any further from the railing. “What’s the first thing you learn about brawling on a ship?” 

Chan looks slightly embarrassed as he answers, “Be aware of your surrounding—ARGH.”

Hoshi pushed him into the water. 

You jump as you run back to the rails, watching as Chan’s head re-emerges at the surface after his second dip in the ocean. 

Just as you’re about to say something to Hoshi, he’s stuck his head over the railings as well, yelling at Chan in some singsong voice. 

“One time was a mistake, twice is a problem!”

To your left, only adding to your horror, is Mingyu doubled over in his fit of laughter, heaving as he giggled uncontrollably. He’s also holding onto the railings for dear life, but clearly, for reasons completely different from yours. 

The situation resolves itself as both you and Chan learn a few lessons of practicality. Deciding you’ve done enough damage to your body, you announce that you’d be retiring for the day. 

“Thank goodness, I was about to confiscate that stupid knife, I’ve been hearing clanging in my sleep,” Mingyu mumbles as he pulls the rope ladder back up to the deck. 

In any case, you have the urge to take a dip in the ocean yourself, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your drying sweat. 

Grabbing a clean washcloth, you fill a bucket of freshwater from one of the barrels on deck and lug it into your quarters. The soaked washcloth does wonders for your overheated body, feeling enormously better after a change of clothes. 

Your scalp, however, remains itchy and burning, so you decide to go back up to the main deck, hoping to manoeuvre a hair wash situation without needing to mop the floors of your quarters. 

Refilling the bucket of freshwater, you set it down before scanning the empty deck for another spare bucket. You try not to scoff at the unwavering determination of the pirate crew to keep the deck unoccupied for such long increments, that last altercation teaching them absolutely nothing. You wonder how they’ve managed to survive for so long like this. 

Shaking the thought, you use the spare bucket as a way to deposit your waste water as you pour cups of clean water over your aching scalp. The feeling does wonders for you, letting the water wash away weeks worth of grime, sweat and stress. 

You’re almost back home in your quarters when the whiff of your hair salts hits your nose, the ones you’d packed for yourself, closing your eyes for a moment as you rub them into your scalp. You don't expect the clench that seizes your chest, but you falter when it happens anyway.

It’s nostalgic, and you hate it. 

It smells like the palace, like the incense your ladies in waiting always burned, the stench of citrus having made its way into your bones from the years of exposure to the scent. It’s too much as you blink back tears, owing them to the suds that have made their way into your eyes. 

The sting helps bring you back, opening your eyes to an orange glow and the waft of seasalt  hitting your nose. You’re more aggressive when you dunk your cup into the bucket this time, too aggressive as you feel the half full bucket tip over and spill water all over the deck as you cause yet another accident. 

Cursing loudly, you try to blink away the suds from your eyes, soap still in your hair as you try to figure out how to get another bucket of water without ruining your fresh change of clothes, mentally kicking yourself at not thinking this through.

“You realise we have to make do with that freshwater till we make it to Ash?” 

Wet hair still in your hands, you attempt to peer up at the voice, only to find Hoshi standing above you, arms crossed over his chest with a funny expression on his face. Huffing, you grumble out in response, “Can you just get me a fresh bucket?”

“Hm, I don’t know, can I?” He removes his gaze and begins to pretend looking over at the horizon and the setting sun. 

Chiding yourself for even bothering to ask, you reach for the tipped bucket yourself, deciding you’d figure it out yourself if this dumb pirate was choosing to be of no help. But before you could latch your fingers on the handle, the bucket’s snatched away. 

At first you think he’s being funny, taking the bucket away to watch you struggle even further. “You—”

Except you watch him as he dunks the bucket back into the barrel of freshwater, lugging it back to where you could reach. “Try not to paint the deck with it this time, I’ve already mopped twice.”

The thank you freezes on your tongue, and for some reason you can’t say it to him. So you make a scene of splashing into the bucket with vigour, sending spills over the rim and taking mild satisfaction in hearing him sigh at the sight of more mopping. 

He’s already gotten hold of the worn mop by the time you’re done as you remerge with clean hair, wringing your own mop of hair to deposit the excess water. Straightening out your back, you take hold of the spare cloth you brought along with you, patting your hair with it. 

The sun remains in its mission to cast its golden glow, but only illuminates Hoshi’s grumbling form as he mops up all the water you’ve spilled. 

“You know, I should really be making you—” He halts as he makes eye contact with you, your hands still occupied with patting your hair dry, flicking the wet strands. You have a rebuttal already prepared, waiting for him to finish his jab. 

“Make me what? you grind. 

You can’t make out the look on his face, somewhere between constipated and on the edge of a yelp, he keeps staring at you. You note a slight trickle of water making its way down your neck and chest, bleeding into your shirt as yet another water stain. 

“Nothing,” he says, to your surprise. 

And with that uneventful climax, you trudge back down to your quarters, a strange brewing in your chest.

[AN]: congrats you made it to the end of part 1!!!!! reblog ur thots and opinions or send me an ask, id love to hear the turmoil in ur minds lol

[joonsytip]

Side by Side || Hoshi

Pairings: Hoshi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, mafia boss! Hoshi, cold husband! Hoshi, doctor! Reader, arranged marriage au.

Synopsis: Your marriage to Soonyoung is just a form of convenience to all and you're fed up trying to make things work. So what happens when you start being bratty and it brings out an animalistic side to your cold mafia boss husband?

Warnings: hoshi being the typical cold & rude mafia boss, mafia clan jargon intended, betrayal, reader becomes bratty, couple fights, marriage of convenience, hate sex, angry sex, creampie, choking, biting, marking.

Word Count: 5.5k

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

In the frosty heart of the city, there's a large edifice owned by Soonyoung, a mafia boss, who goes by the alias Hoshi. He is a man of few words and even fewer smiles, a dangerously cold man who rules his criminal empire with an iron fist.

However, even the coldest hearts can take a hit under the circumstances. One day, Soonyoung's advisors come to him with a proposition: an arranged marriage to you, brilliant young physician and the daughter of a powerful ally now, but previously your clan had been prime rival of his clan, things still on the brink of simmering sometimes.

The advisors believe that this union would strengthen Soonyoung's hold on his territory, as your father controlled a large part of the city's medical services and underground capo. Always a man of strategy, Soonyoung agrees to the arrangement, despite his initial lack of interest in matrimony.

The reason, more of the truth is, Soonyoung's empire is under threat from a rival gang and your family has the resources and influence to help turn the tide in his favor. By marrying you, he would secure an alliance that could tip the balance of power in his favor.

Soonyoung has always been a complex man, a man who has built his empire on fear and ruthlessness. But beneath that icy exterior, there is a hint of loneliness and sadness. He has always been a solitary figure, never allowing himself to get close to anyone.

Being an orphan, he was basically raised on the streets of the city. He had learned early on that the world was a cold and unforgiving place. He had made his way up in the criminal underworld, using his cunning tactics and ruthlessness to secure his position as a boss.

To begin with, he had fallen in with a small gang of street thugs and by providing himself as a quick learner, he soon became their leader. It was during this time that he met a seasoned mobster, who recognized his potential and took him under his wing.

Soonyoung's rivals are the Kims, a powerful and ruthless mafia clan who controls a significant part of the city's criminal underworld. They had been feuding with his gang for years over territory, resources, and power.

You, on the contradictory note, are a fiery, independent spirit. You had grown up as the heir of another wealthy and influential mafia clan. Despite your privileged upbringing, you had never allowed yourself to be intimidated by the criminal world that surrounded you.

You had always been a bright and curious child, with a love for learning, excelling in studies, particularly in the field of medicines. Despite your family's objections, you had pursued the medical degree from a prestigious university.

You have seen deaths growing up, so the main reason for becoming a doctor was a way of protesting, while your family killed, you wanted to save lives.

You are shocked on receiving the marriage proposal from Soonyoung's advisors. It's not that you had never expected to be married into another mafia clan but you had never imagined it would be Soonyoung's. You have seen your brothers held at the gunpoint by the said man, in exchange for royalty. Things might look good on the surface but you know better.

So after much discussion and negotiation, you agreed to the marriage. Your family saw it as an opportunity to broker a more prominent peace treaty with Soonyoung's gang.

Though you have agreed to the marriage, your impression of Soonyoung was simple, the leader of the Kwon mafia clan who's ruthless and walks on the blood of people.

You saw this marriage as an opportunity to gain more independence and autonomy within your own family, a chance to make a difference in the criminal underworld by promoting peace and cooperation.

The first time you two meet is at a formal dinner arranged by your family. Though you both are seated next to each other and pleasantries are exchanged, Soonyoung doesn't pay much mind to you.

He is distracted during the dinner, paying more attention to the men of the gang and their discussions, than to you. However as the meal went on, he couldn't help but be drawn to your strength and poise.

Later that evening, when the dinner ends and the guests are leaving, Soonyoung finds himself lingering near you. After much consideration, he asks you to go for a walk in the gardens outside the estate.

As you both walk together in the moonlit gardens, you try to make small talks with him only to meet with dry replies. You can sense the coldness and aloofness in his aura.

His eyes narrow as he asks you bluntly, "So, tell me. Why did you agree to this marriage?

You weren't expecting a blunt question this quick but who are you kidding, it's Soonyoung afterall. Feeling a pang of disappointment, you reply tersely, "My reasons for agreeing to this union are none of your concern. Enough about that, let's return inside."

He seems to ignore your words and continues to press on you, his voice low and rough as he asks, "Do you really think you can handle life with me, as my wife? As the leader's wife?

Soonyoung's sharp tone causes a chill to run down your spine, but you refuse to back down. Meeting his frightening gaze boldly, you reply, "I can handle whatever comes my way, Soonyoung. I am not some delicate flower that will wilt at the first sign of trouble."

His lips quirked into a small smirk at your bold response, his demeanor softening just a little. He couldn't help but admire you for your bravery and strength, and he suddenly feels a desire to know more about you. "Well then..."

He begins to lead you to a secluded part of the garden, away from prying eyes. The moonlight illuminates your path as you both walk together in silence. "I suppose we will have plenty of time to get to know each other once we are married," he says at last with a hint of sarcasm.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he abruptly stops walking and turns to face you. His expression is unreadable as he says, "Y/N, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Just because we are getting married, it doesn't mean that I will be easy on you."

He continues, "You will be my wife in name only. I expect you to follow my orders, no matter what they are. My position as the leader of our people is everything to me, and nothing, not even you, will ever come before it."

You look at Soonyoung, eyes narrowing as you listen to his harsh words. Despite his warning, you could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and it gives you a hope. "I understand." you say quietly.

Over the next few weeks, you are forced to throw yourself into the preparations for your wedding. The entire city is bustling with activity, but one person seemed to be conspicuously absent - Soonyoung. He sends his men and servants to assist with the preparations but he has not been seen in days.

Despite your frustration, you try not to let it show. You don't want to give your would-be husband the satisfaction of knowing that he is getting under your skin. But as the days turns into weeks, you couldn't help but wonder if he is even going to show up for the wedding.

You try to reach out to Soonyoung numerous times, but never receive a response. You have even sent messengers to his estate, but they all returned with the same message - he is unavailable. You even attempted to visit him herself, but were turned away at the gate.

As the days went on, you couldn't help but rethink your decision to marry Soonyoung. You shouldn't have given the nod, shouldn't have agreed under the pressure of your family because Soonyoung is distant and completely unwilling to let you in. You are compelled, you divert yourself back into your regular routine, living in the hospital dorms just to keep yourself busy and your mind away from all sorts of unpleasant thoughts.

With each passing day, you grow more and more convinced that you have made a mistake. You couldn't shake the feeling that Soonyoung would never truly care for you and that your marriage would be nothing more than a political arrangement.

The day of the wedding arrives. You stand wearing the white gown, looking out at the assembled guests. Your heart feels heavy with doubt and you couldn't help but wonder what your life would have been like if you had followed your heart.

The crowd grows restless as the ceremony draws near and there is still no sign of the groom. You try to push down your growing anxiety but you can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. And then finally, as the sun begins to set, Soonyoung appears.

He looks unapologetic and nonchalant as he strolls towards you with small smile on his lips, seeming completely unfazed by the fact that he has kept his bride waiting and takes your hand without a second thought.

As the vows are exchanged, you feel your doubts grow even stronger. You wonder if you would ever be able to truly accept a man who has so carelessly disrespected you. But for now, you bury those feelings and force yourself to smile, knowing that it was too late to turn back now.

The rest of the wedding day passes in a blur. You go through the motions, dancing and laughing with your guests, all the while feeling a growing sense of emptiness inside. And as the night wears on, you are convinced that you have made a grave mistake.

From the start, Soonyoung's cold demeanor and possessive attitude caused friction between you two. He expects you to cater to his every whim, but you have promised yourself to never be intimidated by his threats and his icy stare.

As newlyweds, you both settle into the honeymoon suite. You feel your heart sink once again because you had hoped that the spark would be reignited once you both were alone, but Soonyoung seems more interested in the bottle than in you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your eyes fixed on your hands. Your husband stands by the window, nursing a glass of whiskey. The silence is palpable.

"Soonyoung," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "Why did you leave me alone at the altar today?"

Soonyoung turns to face you, his expression unreadable. He takes a long pull from his glass before answering, "I didn't leave you at the altar, if I did then we wouldn't have been married and you wouldn't have been here."

His face hardens as he steps closer to you, "I don't have time for your tears or your theatrics," he snaps, "You knew that this isn't going to be a normal marriage with rainbows and sunshine so stop whining and play your part."

Your eyes are narrow as you stand up to face him, "I may have agreed to this marriage, but I will not be treated like a doormat," you say, your voice is steady and strong, "I am more than just a trophy wife."

Soonyoung sneers at you, his annoyance growing. "Then what are you, Y/N? You're nothing but a foolish woman because you agreed to this marriage knowing there would be no love, no obligations."

Your eyes flash with anger as you bite back with a retort, "Fine. If you want to play the game of cold indifference, then let's see who breaks first."

You take a step closer to him, your voice low and dangerous, "Don't test me, Soonyoung", you warn, "I may not be a man, but I am not as weak as you seem to think. I can give as good as I get.", you reach up and grab a handful of his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at your sudden burst of anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a sharp look, "I am done being your doormat", you say, your voice full of fire and determination.

After that night, you both settle into a cold and distant marriage. You live in a lavish mansion but the tension between you both is palpable. But even after the heated word exchange, you tried your best to make the marriage work, but Soonyoung's cold and rude demeanor made it impossible.

You made constant efforts to engage with him. You organized dinners and gatherings, hoping that you'd connect over shared interests. You tried to talk to him about the relationship, expressing your desires for a more loving and supportive partnership.

You also made an effort to spend quality time with Soonyoung. You would plan trips and outings, clearing your schedules, hoping that the time alone would help you both grow closer. You would often try to initiate deep conversations in the hopes that it would melt his cold exterior.

Despite your best efforts, your husband remains the same. He shows no signs of caring for you or reciprocating your affections. The lack of feelings weighed heavily on you.

You try to warn Soonyoung when you discover that he has been secretly meeting with a member of the rival mafia clan. As a doctor, you feel strongly about upholding the law but as his wife, you couldn't help but worry about his safe being.

Soonyoung isn't a fool. He knows what he is doing. He has his own reasons for secretly meeting, whoever he is meeting. He believes that forming an alliance with them would bring more power and wealth to his own clan, securing their position as a dominant force in the criminal underworld but if he fails to coax them to form an ally then he'd finish the whole clan.

"You don't understand the ways of the mafia, my dear wife. I do what needs to be done, whether you approve or not.", he answers you.

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into," you plead, your hands gripping his arms in desperation. "The rival clan is ruthless and they will stop at nothing to take us down."

Soonyoung's expression hardens as he pulls his arms out of your grip. "You don't trust me to handle this, do you?" he accuses, his voice full of rage, "I am the leader of this clan, and I know what I'm doing."

Suddenly, Soonyoung's expression darkens as he looks at you, "You have a secret it seems," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Is there something you're hiding from me because how the hell did you know that I'm meeting the people of rival clan?"

Your eyes flash with defiance as you walk out of the room, leaving Soonyoung standing there. You couldn't believe he would accuse you of hiding something from him even after she have just warned him about the danger. He seems to have forgotten that you too belong to a powerful mafia clan.

Since that day, your relationship becomes more strained as you both stopped speaking to each other. Soonyoung is always staking out doing something you don't care about anymore and you sort to spending more time at hospital.

Your heart stops, one night, as you see Soonyoung walk into the home, his clothes soaked in blood. You run to him, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he is okay.

"What happened?", you ask, eyes scanning his body.

Soonyoung's voice is distant as he speaks, "It's not my blood." he says, pushing your hands away. "I killed someone before he could kill me."

Your eyes wander before you look at him. Something about his story doesn't add up. You step closer, studying his face and see the faint traces of tears in his eyes, "Soonyoung," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "What really happened?"

Soonyoung's reaction takes you by surprise but you don't let it deter you. You follow him quietly to your shared bedroom, watching as he collapses on the bed. "Soonyoung," you repeat, your voice softer now, "Tell me the truth."

Soonyoung lets out a sigh as he turns to face you. He looks into your eyes, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you any longer, "I had planted a mole, one of my trusted men in their gang.", he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, "He got caught by them and was already dead when I found him."

Soonyoung hesitates, taking a deep breath before continuing, "If I had arrived a bit earlier, I could have saved him. But I got a hold of some of them and killed them all.", he turns away, his voice filled with regret.

Your concern for your husband overpowers any disappointment you have in him. You move closer to him, your hands gently examining his body for any injuries. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?"

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with pain, "Yes," he whispers, "I was stabbed."

He lifts his shirt, revealing a long wound on his side. You gasp, your hands immediately going to the wound as you inspect it.

You quickly grab some bandages and disinfectant from the first aid kit and carefully clean the wound before wrapping it up, making sure it is clean and protected. "We need to get you to a hospital," you say firmly, "This needs stitches."

He grabs your hand and tells you that he can't.

You frown at his response, but you don't let it deter you, "Soonyoung, this is serious," you say, trying to keep the worry out of your voice, "You need medical attention."

Soonyoung shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening.

His actions cut through you like a knife, "I don't need your help", he spats out, his voice filled with anger and frustration, "Just leave me alone." He pulls his hand away from yours, turning his back on you as he tries to hide the pain in his eyes.

You know that he needs medical attention and you are not going to let him suffer any longer. Gathering up your sewing kit and some painkillers, you approach him again.

You sit down next to him, carefully cleaning and numbing the wound before starting to stitch it up. The entire process is painful and tense, with Soonyoung gritting his teeth and occasionally flinching as the needle goes in.

You don't receive a thanks, rather you receive an ultimatum to never interfere in his matters again.

As the weeks went by, you both grew more distant. You'd only see each other in the bedroom that too occasionally and your conversations are always short and perfunctory. As demanded by your husband, you have finally stopped caring about his matters.

Soonyoung bursts into the mansion one evening, his face red with anger. He has heard something he couldn't believe. He shouts out your name, closing in on you as you sat on the couch.

Your confusion turns into fear as you see the anger in his eyes.

"You dated Minho.", he declares, gritting his teeth, "The son of Kim's, the next boss of their clan."

You hadn't expected him to find out about your brief relationship with the rival gang member. Your voice is stern when you say, "I did date him, but it was years ago when we were both in college. But I broke up with him as soon as I found out who his family was. I never would do anything hurtful for my family or the people I care for."

Soonyoung has been boiling the entire time, he is frustrated, he is mad. So he hurls some insults at you and you do too. The fight has turned into something else entirely. You both are overwhelmed with emotion.

"What kind of man doesn't want his wife?", you yell at him, "Maybe I should go back to Minho, at least he would treat me better."

At this point you're saying anything and everything to bottle out your frustration.

"So you want me to treat you as my wife?", Soonyoung turns calm suddenly, his tone low, "You want me to want you?"

And before you both know it, the anger has turned into something darker and more primal.

Soonyoung reaches you in long strides and kisses you by grabbing your head.

He backs you to the bedroom, lips still connected. One gaze after he pulls away and the tension snaps. You both rip each other's clothes off, your bodies colliding in a rough wave.

You bodies now move in a desperate rhythm, each thrust and grind a testament to the months of frustration and pent-up desire that had been building between the you of you. Soonyoung's hands roamed all over your body, gripping your hips, pulling your hair and squeezing your breasts roughly.

His voice is low and rough as he speaks into your mouth, "You're mine, Y/N.", he says, his hips pistoning into yours, "I can't get enough of you, even when I hate you for speaking of some other man when I was infront of you just because you were feigning for some touch. I'll show that I could all and above."

You meet his intensity with your own. You claw at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as you scream out your own frustration, "I'm not yours, Soonyoung," you spat, "I never was."

You buck your hips, meeting his thrusts with equal ferocity, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body is aching with pleasure and pain because of the roughness.

"You're just a means to an end," you say with a feral glint in your eyes. "You always were."

Soonyoung's lips curl in a savage smile as he hears your words. He grips your hips tighter and slams into you harder, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust, "I'll make sure you never forget me then."

His hand wraps around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to assert dominate. He leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he sucks and bites at your neck, marking you as his, "Happy to finally get what you wanted?"

Your breath hitches as his hand tightens around you throat but you don't back down. You meet his gaze with a fierce glare, your fingers digging into his back deeper as you hold on, "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

Soonyoung chuckles darkly, his hand finally releasing your throat, now placing it on your hips again, pulling you closer to him as he thrusts deeper, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

In response, you wrap your legs around him and meet each of his thrusts with one of your own, your bodies slapping together in a heated dance.

His eyes darken with desire as he continues to thrust, the two of you getting lost in a wild and animalistic rhythm. He reaches down rubbing your clit, causing you to moan loudly as you come undone beneath him.

Feeling you clenching around him as you came, Soonyoung couldn't hold back any longer. He thrusts into you a few more times before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he releases everything he had.

But even as he holds you close to him, he knows that your relationship would never be simple. You are fiery and independent, a woman who would always challenge him and keep him on his toes. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lay in Soonyoung's arms, your body still trembling and humming with pleasure. You have never felt so alive, so free. You have always been a thorn in his side, always pushing back against him, never making it easy for him.

But in this moment, as you lay together, bodies still entwined, you couldn't help but feel something more for your husband. You aren't sure if it is love, or just a deep and primal attraction, but you know that you have found something special in him.

And so, as the night wore on, you and Soonyoung lay there, holding each other tightly.

But eventually, the night had to end. The first light of dawn begins to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the room as you wake up to an empty bed.

And as the sun continues to rise, you both go back to your usual ways, each pretending to be indifferent to the other. But deep down, you both know that something has changed between you both, that you are no longer just enemies, but something more complicated and unpredictable.

And so, as the days passed and the war raged on, you both find yourselves drawn to each other again and again, your fiery chemistry impossible to resist. You fought and fucked, through it all, never not craving each other's touch.

Another such episode comes when you storm into Soonyoung's office, your eyes blazing with anger. You had a long, shitty day at the hospital so you are here, into the vicinity of your husband, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

As soon as you see him, sitting there behind his desk, claded in a fitting suit, all your other thoughts go into the gutter. You couldn't help but feel a deep, primal desire for him. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell that he felt the same way.

Soonyoung's jaw clenches on seeing you and he couldn't help but let his anger show, "What the hell do you want?", he snarls, standing up and slamming his fists on the desk, "How dare you barge into my office?Can't you see I'm busy?"

Your eyes narrow and you let out a low, dangerous laugh, "Oh, I see", you say, sauntering towards him with a seductive sway in your hips, "I thought you'd be busy jerking yourself off to the thought of me."

Soonyoung lets out a laugh as his control snaps. He reaches out and grabs you, pulling you towards him before turning you over and bending over the desk, his hands roughly gripping your hips as he grinds himself against you.

You gasp as his hands roam over your clothed body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist. You moan as he presses himself against you, your body craving his touch despite everything, "Fuck me, Soonyoung."

His voice is low and rough as he leans in close to your ear, "You want me to fuck you, my wife?" he growls, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, "You've been begging for it since the moment you walked in here."

Your smirk turns into a gasp as he turns you around again, hands ripping your clothes. His gaze marvels at you in nothing your lingerie before tearing them as well, revealing your naked body to him. You swear under your breath as the cool air hits your skin, but it's quickly replaced with the heat of Soonyoung's touch.

"You're a fucking animal."

Soonyoung's only response is a guttural growl as he lifts you onto the desk, spreading you legs and entering harshly into you without hesitation. Your hands work on undressing him as he thrusts in. The sound of the bodies slapping against each other fills the room, along with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

The heat of your bodies is overwhelming and your head falls back as you surrender to the pleasure that your husband is giving you. The pain of his rough treatment mixed with pleasure and you find yourself moaning loudly, scratching at his back as he continues to rearrange your insides.

His thrusting never slows as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "You like that, don't you? Being treated like the filthy slut you are."

Your glare turns into a snarl as you grab Soonyoung's throat, your fingers digging into his skin. "Shut up and fuck me harder.", you growl through gritted teeth. Your grip tightens around his neck as you pull him closer, your faces inches apart.

Soonyoung snickers at your response, the smirk never wavering, "With pleasure, my dirty little whore," he responds with a chuckle before kissing you passionately.

"You're damn right, I am." you say pulling away, your grip tightening even more, "Now fuck me like the animal you are."

You pull him down for another rough and bruising kiss, refusing to let go as your bodies collide in a mess of sweat and heat.

He breaks the kiss, a triumphant smirk on his face as his thrust takes animalistic speed.

Your moans and his grunts of pleasure, floods the rooms. You bite on his shoulder blade, leaving an angry red mark as you hold on and let him ravage her body.

Soonyoung's thrusts became more erratic as he feels his orgasm building up within him, ready to spill. Your body shakes with pleasure, the two of you reaching the climax together.

He pulls out of you and collapses onto you, panting and covered in sweat, "Fuck," he says with a grin.

"You're wild.", you glare at him, but a smirk of your own forms as you try to push him off you.

Soonyoung slides off and stretches, his muscles aching from the exertion of your passionate encounter.

"You think that was good just because you could keep up with me?", you laugh with a seductive smirk on your lips, "I've fucked better and rougher."

Soonyoung flexes his muscles, a smug grin on his face, "Well, I guess it was a good thing for you then, wasn't it?" he shot back, pushing your buttons with ease.

You roll your eyes but couldn't keep the smile off your face.

"You know what?", you say as you hop off the table, "Keep telling yourself that.", you start walking towards the bathroom, "I'll take a shower first, wanna join?"

You look down at your torn clothes and laugh with a playful glint in her eye, "Well, looks like I'll be walking out of here naked", and look over at your husband with a smirk, "I guess you want all your men to see me like this."

Soonyoung's temper flares at the thought of all the men in the office seeing his wife naked. He quickly follows you into the bathroom with a fierce determination on his face.

"Fuck no." he mutters to himself and turns you around to face him.

He cups your face and looks deeply into your eyes, "You're mine and I won't share you with anyone.", he says possessively, a fierce protectiveness in his gaze, "So, either put on my spare clothes or wait till I get you something to wear."

Your eyes flashed with a hint of defiance as you shrug off in hold, "I don't care if anyone sees me naked.", you snip to rile him up.

Soonyoung steps closer, "If you let another man look at this state of yours whether or not I'm around, I will rip them apart," he growls.

And he doesn't waste any time. His carnal instincts takes over once again so you are now bent her over the bathroom counter, his hands gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind as he fucks with a wild abandon.

The bathroom was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the slick slap of the bodies. His fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deep inside you, his lips pressing a savage kiss to your shoulder, "Mine."

Your head falls back, breath hitching as Soonyoung hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you, "Yes.", you gasp, "All yours."

As your orgasm subsides for the second time, Soonyoung gently pulls out of you and turns you to face him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I mean it," he murmurs, "You're mine."

You are taken aback by this sudden affectionate gesture. You hadn't expected tenderness from him after your rough session earlier. You look up at him and smile softly, a strange warmth spreading through your chest, "I'm yours, Soonyoung.", you repeat, your voice softer this time.

Your husband smiles back and tilts your head up so he can see you better. He looks into your eyes, his own softening as he sees the sincerity in your gaze., "And I'm yours.", he whispers before leaning in and kissing you softly.

You have already melted the icy shield and Soonyoung thinks it's time he starts to show that he can be sincere, that he too wants this marriage to work.

Urgent knocks on the office door makes Soonyoung scrumbling out of the bathroom, searching for his clothes in a hurry. He knows that the pattern of those knocks always meant some trouble.

Just as he goes to open the door, he hears the clanking of the gun and turns back only to feel the metal being pressed on the skin of his forehead.

"Hey, Hoshi.", you smile at your husband condescendingly, holding him at the gunpoint.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING HOSHI INCLUDES…. — sfw

• if he ever suspects you or figures out that you’re the mafia whenever y’all play, he would NEVER expose you. he would in fact protect you WITH HIS LIFE. this says a lot about how much he loves you because hoshi would never back down during mafia ever. (poor mingyu :/ he really was innocent all this time.)

• you would probably be the only person capable of successfully dragging him out of the dance studio.

• he would let you squish his cheeks whenever you want (especially when you’re having a bad day.)

• as surprising as it sounds, when y’all are alone, he’s the calm bf and you’re the hyper gf.

• he will NEVER dull your sparkle no matter how bad of a day he’s having.

• when he loves, he loves with EVERYTHING in him.

• dates with him would never be boring. he mainly plans the adventurous ones, choosing to do something like a water park or hiking instead. (he would definitely give you a piggy back ride if you get tired.)

• if he makes a promise with you, he would rather walk through hell barefoot than break it no matter the circumstance. he’s such a dependable lover and always comes through.

• he turns into the softest person whenever you’re having a bad day. he would start talking in a low voice, give you space if needed, but also make sure you’re never suffering alone. your struggles are his and he always lets you know that.

• he’s fine with driving you around everywhere, but be prepared cause he is a super speeder for sure (i know we’ve all seen that one episode of going seventeen.)

• y’all definitely have random dance parties from time to time, especially when y’all are home alone and drinking.

• also, he’s DEFINITELY the type of person who would pull you out of the house to dance under the stars or in the pouring rain. SO ROMANTIC AND CUTESY :’)

• he once ended up winning a tiger plushie for you at the fair before y'all even started dating, and you still have it to this day.

• y'all are for sure dressing up as tigers one year for halloween, he insists.

• he enjoys teaching you dances and always lets you watch as he choreographs. hoshi is constantly wanting your input and praise when he does so.

• he’s oblivious to everything besides when it comes to you.

• he has the habit of hogging the blanket at night. definitely looks like a kicked puppy when you shake him awake to yell at him. he truly doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

• he flaunts you with no fear or shame all over his social media. he dngaf about haters, at the end of the day it’s you that he plans to spend the rest of his life with not them.

• be prepared because he would constantly litter kisses ALL OVER your face no matter the time of day.

• if he had to chose between you or kimchi, he would pick you. that’s saying a lot.

• he will forever be your number one supporter. he is always encouraging you and hyping you up despite what situation you’re in.

• he genuinely thinks you’re the absolute cutest !

• he tells you anything and everything, even if it has nothing to do with him. you definitely know all the practice room secrets.

• if you whip out the government name, he would look at you like a deer in the headlights. don’t scare him like that.

• no matter how bad you are at singing, he would always reassure you that it sounds like music to his ears.

• the pantry would always be stocked with frosted flakes. not because he likes the cereal, but rather just because of the tiger on the box.

• he is always taking random pictures of you, it consists of ninety percent of his camera roll. he REFUSES to delete them.

• he’s speaks of you so fondly and definitely might bring you up in every conversation with people absentmindedly. he loves and admires you so incredibly much.

• he used to tickle you often. he stopped when you accidentally elbowed him in the nose one time and made him bleed.

• if you’re allowed to squish his cheeks, then you have to allow him to boop your nose. it’s an eye for an eye.

• whenever you two argue, it’s rare in which it’s serious. it’s mostly just playful little banters here and there.

• if the arguments are ever serious, it plays in his mind a lot. hoshi treats your heart as if it’s made of glass and the last thing he ever wants to do is make you sad or worse, cry.

• he voices his love like shakespeare to you whenever he’s drunk. hoshi most def becomes a giggly, nervous mess whenever you’re around.

• you know how it’s normally the gf that turns their brain off whenever they’re around their boyfriend? yeah, it’s the opposite way around for you two.

• eye of the tiger would be on full BLAST throughout all hours of the day, he claims it’s his favorite song.

[mingtinys]

" you are my home "

pairing : kwon soonyoung x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : none

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : probably my favorite from this series (:

Don't get it twisted, you really do love having Soonyoung around so much. You love waking up to him every morning. Love seeing his toothbrush on your counter. Love spending your nights curled up with him on the couch watching comedies.

Nothing makes you happier than Soonyoung. But you're a little worried if he's happy.

Ever since you gifted him a key to your apartment for your second anniversary, he'd been living with you day in and day out. Filling your empty draws with his clothes and making his presence a permanent part of your life. He really only leaves for practices, schedules, and meetings with his members.

If someone from the outside were to describe your situation, they'd probably assume he'd officially moved in. Which again, you're overjoyed about. But your apartment is quite some distance from his parents and you've noticed he's been Facetimeing them more and more. You know he's close with them, so it confuses you how he hasn't gotten homesick yet.

Your worries boil over as you're cuddled up on the couch one night. "Soonyoung, can I ask you something?"

His eyes pop open and he stares up at you with an innocent expression. His head still rests in your lap, your fingers never ceasing their ministrations in his hair. He nods, "Is everything okay? You look upset."

"Everything's fine, I was actually wondering if everything is okay with you?"

He blinks up at you, not quite understanding the implication. "What do you mean?"

You chew at your lip. "We'll, it's just . . . I've noticed you've been calling your parents a lot as well as your members and I just want to you know I don't expect you to be here all the time."

"Do you not want me here?"

"No, no! It's not that at all, I love having you here! I just don't want you to be unhappy because you're with me instead of home. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go back every now and then. Ya know?"

At that, Soonyoung sits up and faces you. A look of genuine confusion plaguing his features. "You are my home, why would I be unhappy here?"

You're a little taken aback by his answer, and it takes a moment for your heart to stop fluttering long enough to follow up. "Oh, I guess I just assumed you missed living in the dorms and being closer to your family."

He thinks for a moment. "I do. But I'd miss you too if I lived in the dorms still and then I'd really be unhappy. So it wouldn't really solve anything anyways if I left." It's so simple, the way he explains it. Yet so Soonyoung.

"Yeah, when you put it that way, I guess that makes sense." Your cheeks hurt from how wide you're smiling. You never thought it'd be possible to love someone this much.

"And just to be clear, you do want me here, right?"

The look on his face makes you giggle. "Yes, Soonyoung, I absolutely want you here."

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi

[strwbrryteen]

hoshi and friends with benifts please!!

kwon soonyoung as your friend with benefits

fucky buddy soonyoung with whom you decided this relationship after you had a (what was supposed to be) one-night stand but the night turned out to be to good to be a one-time thing

fucky buddy soonyoung who saved your contact as "best pussy"

fucky buddy soonyoung who is both a body worshipper and a dirty degraded and could almost make you cum by his smooth mouth alone

fucky buddy soonyoung who loves eating you out and whose tongue is smooth in other ways too, from the way he can pull orgasms after orgasms from his tongue alone

fucky buddy soonyoung who has you equally cockdrunk over him as he is oussydrunk over you

fucky buddy soonyoung who fucks you with so much passion and energy, his cock hitting your sweet spot everytime

fucky buddy soonyoung who makes the sexiest grunting sounds in bed, and sometimes woo-hoos after he cums in you (its a little embarrassing but its also so cute you don't want him to stop that silly habit)

fucky buddy soonyoung who eye-fucks you everytime you two meet up in public to have dinner before fucking, and in return you shove your red heels to his crotch (thank go for the long table cloth at you usual diner)

fucky buddy soonyoung who always take you to a good hotel or his room instead of cheap motels because he is not risking any sort of STDs for either of you

fucky buddy soonyoung who has had the biggest fattest crush on you since your first night and it just keeps growing but he is too much of a coward to say it out loud

fucky buddy soonyoung who has fucked you in more positions and places than any of your exes have combined -- from the kitchen to bathroom to the dance studio where he works.

fucky buddy soonyoung who loves experimenting with all of your freaking kinks as you explore with his (both with pre-discussed consent ofcourse)

fucky buddy soonyoung who insists you stay over the night everytime just so he can watch your sweet sleeping figure.

fucky buddy soonyoung who makes breakfasts for you more often than not

fucky buddy soonyoung who has a drawer in his closet for you to keep your extra clothes and toiletries for when you have to leave early in the mornings after your nights

fucky buddy soonyoung who insists you two hang out more often apart from your sexy nights as well because he genuinely wants to know you better as a person

fucky buddy soonyoung whose friends tease him everytime you're around and its hard not to pick up on all these clues, especially from the way he gets so flustered and annoyed at them

fucky buddy soonyoung who you finally confront about his feelings and revealing your own crush for him in the process

fucky buddy soonyoung who is a blushing mess when you kiss him for the first time from love and not lust.

[monamipencil]

— ♡ [21:54]

tw; pregnant! reader + some insecurities

you giggle as soonyoung pushes his face on yours, “I don't see it.” he states with a serious tone. “I don't see the 'ugly' you're talking about.” you chuckle again.

he gasps, and holds your face close enough for you to smell the pasta you both ate a while ago. “no! are you going blind? the doctor said it was a possibility! noooo.”

you simply roll your eyes and pinch his cheek, “they said that experiencing blurry vision is normal, and complete blindness is rare.”

with a hum, he lays on your lap and places his palm on your growing belly. pressing a kiss to your tummy, he rubs his nose against it, accidentally tickling you.

you lean back, relaxing into couch as he talks to your baby. you run your hand through his hair, and caress his head and nape. “I can't wait to dress our baby in tiger onesies,” he squeals like a school girl and you watch him sit up and continue his yap.

he gasps, and you see stars twinkling in his eyes (he's also tearing up), “we all should wear tiger onesies! and-and we'd be the cutest tiger family.” yeah, he's actually crying.

you simply admire your husband while he has a breakdown. but you also love it when he's normal and doesn't indirectly promote his tiger cult. so you put a stop to his rambling by kissing him and soonyoung is more than happy to stop.

he melts into the kiss. one of his hands wrap around your back to pull you closer gently while the other cradles your face. he pulls away to snuggle into your neck and sway you in his arms.

a wave of emotions crash into you suddenly, and you're too aware of how you look and feel. your eyes tear up and you sniff, causing him to look at you.

worry etches on his face, and he holds you like you're about to break. “what's wrong baby?”

“how do you even love me?”

soonyoung smiles from ear to ear, and he excitedly kisses your cheeks. “wanna hear about how I fell for you? I know you heard it a thousand other times. BUT! this one is exclusive edition.”

“why?” you sniff, and pout unintentionally.

“because,” he lays his palm on your tummy and smiles. “this'll be the first time our baby listens to how his dad fell for his mom.”

“his?”

“her. anything. wait, what if the baby is a tiger?”

“that's physically impossible.”

“anything is possible.”

you roll your eyes but your smile softens when he lays on your lap again. he whispers the details of the story you know all too well and won't ever get tired of hearing. and he always finishes it like, “I probably forgot a few other things. I'll say it the next time.”

he's so confident that this won't be the last time he'll reiterate his love for you. and that he'll be there for a next time. that he isn't going anywhere. that you're his home and he's yours too.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[closerstars]

small favors

mingyu x oc reader

fluff, friends to lovers

note: this is purely self-indulgent because i have a big fat ass crush on mingyu. havent got the time to proofread and fancify everything but pls enjoy!!!

—

"This is my third glass already. If that girl in the red dress doesn't stick around, I'm tapping out," you sigh, your face resting on your hand while the other holds onto your margarita. Mingyu had come up with the plan for you both to team up and help Wonwoo find a date at Seungcheol’s sister’s wedding party, and you had readily agreed.

You've known Wonwoo since childhood, introduced by his mom at the playground, and you've been the best of friends since then. Mingyu joined your circle in high school, and the three of you have been inseparable ever since.

"Hang in there. I think the girl in red might be the one. They’ve been chatting for a good ten minutes now," Mingyu remarks, checking his watch.

"Yeah? Let's see," you reply skeptically.

"Such a pessimist. Remember, she's your candidate," Mingyu teases.

"I don't know, I just don't see Wonwoo fully engaged in the conversation. She had that charm when I talked to her," you admit, though it's hard to tell from three tables away whether Wonwoo's truly interested or just politely listening.

As you both observe, Soonyoung joins in with his drink. "What are you both up to now?" he asks, following your gaze to Wonwoo and the girl in the red dress, looking at you and Mingyu with a confused expression.

Turning to Soonyoung, you ask, "Soonyoung, what do you think? Will the girl in the red dress be able to break through Wonwoo's defenses?"

He takes a sip and frowns at the aftertaste. "How come you never set me up? We're friends too, you know, both of you."

"Just answer the question," you roll your eyes.

Soonyoung takes another look at Wonwoo and the girl in the red dress. "I think she might," he finally answers, earning a nod of agreement from you.

"Hey, look! They're laughing!" Mingyu giggles at the sight of Wonwoo saying something that earns a laugh from the girl.

"Oh my god," you gush with Mingyu. "She just handed him her phone."

You playfully slap Mingyu’s arm. "Dude, they're exchanging numbers!"

Both matchmakers celebrate with high fives until the girl in the red dress exits their view and waves goodbye to Wonwoo.

"Wait, where's she going? Is she heading home already?" you wonder aloud, checking the time on your phone. When you look back up, the girl in the red dress passes by your table and greets you with a nod, saying, "Nice to meet you again, Y/N. Gotta go."

Wonwoo follows after her, approaching your table. As he sets his drink down, you immediately ask, “So?”

Wonwoo takes a sip of his drink. “She was alright,” he says nonchalantly, earning a disappointed expression from you, which he finds amusing.

"What do you mean she was alright?" Mingyu prompts.

"Well…" Wonwoo tilts his head, trying to recall the details. "She’s a photographer. So that’s a good start."

Impatient with his lack of detail, you sigh. Typical Wonwoo, a man of few words. "Okay. And?"

Wonwoo takes another sip. “She suggested I visit her photo exhibit sometime. So she gave me her Instagram page and I gave her mine too.”

Realizing your mission was a success, you grasp Mingyu's shoulder. Mingyu raises his glass, proposing a toast among the four of you.

"I'm so happy right now, I need another glass," you giggle, taking a sip of your margarita.

“Okay. Wonwoo’s got a date. How about me?” Soonyoung pouts, making you laugh. You then ask Mingyu to switch seats so you can play matchmaker with Soonyoung this time.

As you're in the middle of interviewing Soonyoung and scanning the crowd with him to find someone he’d want to talk to, Dami, Seungcheol’s sister in lawapproaches and grabs your arm, pulling you to her.

“Y/N! I have someone you should meet!”

With wide eyes, you look at your tablemates and mouth "Help," but they only laugh at you.

“Bye!” Wonwoo teases, waving to you.

Meanwhile, the three guys left at the table continue drinking and talking over the jazz music playing in the background. Mingyu notices you at a table with Seungcheol as Dami walks through the crowd with her arm looped around some guy in a tux.

He figures maybe this is the guy Dami wanted to introduce you to. Guess they aren’t the only ones playing matchmaker that night.

Wonwoo notices his best friend looking intently from afar. He turns his head back to see you shaking hands with a handsome stranger. Mingyu’s eyes start to wander, trying to distract himself from the hint of jealousy he was feeling

“When is the DJ set going to start? I am so bored,” Soonyoung pouts as he scrolls through his phone, then gets nudged by Wonwoo, directing his attention to you observing something from a distance.

Soonyoung couldn’t help but tease. “Oh wow, Dami’s got good taste. I’d like to see how Y/N would play the game tonight.”

“What?” Mingyu snaps out of it and pretends not to hear.

“Good luck stealing her back, man. Just letting you know I’m always Team Mingyu.” Soonyoung pats Mingyu's back, gripping his drink and takes off.

Wonwoo then slides closer to Mingyu. “You know you’ve always had the advantage, right?”

Mingyu looks at him, confused. “Advantage? What are you talking about?” Mingyu knows what his best friend was talking about. Wonwoo is direct, but this conversation feels different. They've never discussed about him and Y/N before.

“Oh, come on, Mingyu. I've noticed the way you look at her lately. If you like her, just tell her and let it happen the way its fated to happen,” Wonwoo says, taking a sip of his drink, as though confessing to Y/N were as simple as ordering another round.

If telling Y/N what he felt was that easy for him and her, he could’ve done it sooner. But no. He wanted to be sure. He wanted to be sure that this wasn’t just some sort of crush.

“Okay, let's calm down,” he chuckles nervously. “I’m just taking my time, hyung. And I also want to give her all the time and space she needs if…” he pauses. “… if she ever feels the same way.” He adds hastily, gulping down the rest of his drink. “This stuff is good. I need more.”

Conveniently, Seungcheol appears out of nowhere with two glasses in hand, setting them down their table. “I thought you might need another round,” he says, chuckling softly.

Mingyu thanks him, but before he can even grab his drink, you swoop in and snatch it from his hand, leaving the three of them surprised.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a sip and letting out a relieved sigh. You hadn't expected to meet one of your biggest radio DJ crushes, Joshua, at a wedding party. As the brief conversation with him ends, you hurriedly excuse yourself from Seungmi, feeling your face grow warmer by the second.

As you return to your table, Cheol gives Mingyu a teasing glance while sipping on his drink. “Y/N's pretty cute when she's flustered.”

“Oh shut up.” You playfully roll your eyes and then offered to get Mingyu a new glass which you did.

As you stepped away, Wonwoo chuckles at Cheol’s comment, earning an eye roll from Mingyu. “This is so annoying.”

“Why are you annoyed? Oh, I see. You know I heard that Joshua invited her to visit him at the radio booth sometime.” Cheol prods.

“She'll probably be too busy to go,” Mingyu counters.

“How would you know? Are you her manager?”

“What if I am?” Mingyu retorts, trying to play it cool.

They stop abruptly when you came back with a new drink in hand and gave it to Mingyu. “Gentlemen. I am back. Here’s your drink, sir.”

“So how’d it go meeting one of your celebrity crushes?” Wonwoo asks. He wanted to see how his bestfriend will react.

“Oh. Pfft. Yeah I think I played it real cool. Did I?” You turn to Seungcheol for affirmation but he laughs at you instead.

“You were good. Charming at least.” He winks at you and you mouthed a ‘thank you’ You then proceeded to rambling about Joshua’s radio show Sunday Mornings aired every Sunday morning.

“So annoying.” Mingyu mutters as he side eyes Seungcheol.

Wonwoo tries to hold in a laugh, covering his mouth with his drink. Mingyu takes another big sip from his drink thinking this was going to be a long night for him.

—

The tension Mingyu was feeling inside eases off as the night progressed. He has the alcohol to thank for that as well as when the dj finally starts his set for the after-after party.

You, however, was on a high and was extra loud for the night. Never in your life would you think you’d have the energy to goof around and match Soonyoung’s on the dancefloor considering that you weren’t that good of a dancer.

With your confidence at its peak you even pulled the bride to dance with you twirled her over to her now husband. The warmth and joy you felt was incomparable as you watched the newly weds dance and then seal everything with a kiss as the song ended.

Another song plays as you wanted to rest because your feet was starting to hurt already so you head to the bar for another drink as if you weren’t tipsy enough. You scan the room for somewhere to sit on but all you found was the flight of stairs from where the bride and groom had their grand entrance earlier that night.

Wonwoo was sitting down a step checking his phone. He then notices you approaching. He scoots a little and sweeps the space beside him with his hand for you to sit on.

“Tired?” He says with a welcoming smile.

“Yeah. A little.” You sigh as you carefully take a seat.

“Did you at least have fun tonight?” He asks like a dad asking his daughter if she had fun.

“Yes, dad. There were lots of boys hitting on me though.” You joke and scrunch your nose waiting for his reaction.

Wonwoo chuckles and plays along. “Ah my pretty daughter. The boys must’ve had a hard time getting your attention.”

“They’re just boys. I’m here for the party.”

“Really? No one caught your eye?” He points to the small crowd of people enjoying the music, dancing, having drinks.

You casually pretend to scan the crowd until you notice Mingyu was fast approaching still looking to be at full energy.

“I dunno. This guy seems pretty decent.” You shrugged. “Pretty. Decent. Kind.” You said that in a very smug way but heaven knows you meant it.

You’ve developed a skill of being friends with Kim Mingyu. And that was suppressing even the slightest infatuation that eventually grew over the years. Who wouldn’t have a crush on Kim Mingyu anyway?

You’ve had plenty of experience with girls befriending you just to get close to him, some would bribe you with coffee to have you give them his number. You get the coffee, ask Mingyu for permission if he’s comfortable with his number being given and then hand him the coffee you got for free.

With your sibling-like dynamic, he was so comfortable with sharing even his dating life sometimes it wasn’t as fun anymore because you realize how good of a person he was it’s almost unreal that some girls think of him as too naive when he’s really just that kind of person who always believes there is something good in everything.

You were glad to be his friend. You continue to learn a lot from him. There’s an internal struggle however, when that dreaded question “what if you wanted something more than being friends” comes to mind. It scares you. Scared that he might get to close to see through the cracks.

“What are you two doing?! Sitting down?! Really?!” Mingyu reaches for your hand while his other hand reaches for Wonwoo’s and then pulls the both of you up like his ragdolls.

This was always the dynamic between you three. Mingyu being the energetic golden retriever, Wonwoo being the calm black cat, you being the confused chihuahua to balance them out.

—

Later that night, you find yourself assisting a drunk Kwon Soonyoung to his hotel room.

As you search your purse for Soon’s key card he has entrusted you earlier that night, Wonwoo was trying to restrain Soon who was trying to kiss him while he laughs and giggles. Same with Mingyu. But he just talks to Soon in his state.

The door beeped and clicked open so you successfully assisted Soonyoung to his room. You help remove his blazer and then finally made him lay in bed.

Thankfully, your rooms were on the same floor so you all went your separate ways for the night.

Once you settled in and changed to a shirt and sweatpants. You were in the midst of removing stubborn makeup when you decided to open a bottle of beer to cap off the night

As you were quietly browsing photos you took in your hotel room you notices Mingyu’s coat that you lazily hung to a chair.

You text him.

“You still awake??? forgot to give your coat back sorry”

“i’ll go get it in a minute” he replied

You continue browsing the photos you took for tonight and you stop at photos Soonyoung took of Mingyu and you making funny faces. Your lips curl to a smile as you remember this was taken after you sent Wonwoo off with a girl to talk too.

You heard knocking so you toss your phone to your bed and set the beer bottle down. You get Mingyu’s coat and open the door.

“Hey.” You were greeted with Mingyu hair still a bit wet from the shower, obvious from the droplets of his hoodie.

“I was going to give it later in the morning but you were eager to get it.” You hand him your coat.

“You can just tell me you’re gonna hug it to your sleep if you want to you know.” He reaches for it and your hands slightly brush together.

Your face contorts. “Ew. Why the hell would I do that? Creepy.”

“So you can dream of me. Duh.” He is still at it.

“I’ll pass. Good night, Gyu.” You were not having enough of it you rolled your eyes and was about to close the door but his hand stops it.

There was silence between you two for a few seconds. He then takes a step closer, height towering over you. At this moment you felt as if you were put under his spell. Unable to move, you focus on his forehead since your legs might just give up if you look straight into his eyes.

His eyes traveling from your eyes nose and lips.

He softly touches your fingers, moving up your arms barely touching it with his fingertips then tracing your jaw.

You feel your breath slowing down. Your eyes trying to read his. Was this really happening? Should you let it happen?

“Can I kiss you?” He says quietly.

You nod slightly, closed your eyes then it happens. You felt the warmth spread to your face.

Mingyu smiles as he pulled away. Both your eyes meeting each other. You sigh a little. Your foreheads against each other.

“You taste like beer.” He giggles softly and you let out a shy laugh.

You weren’t sure what got to you as you reached for his neck to kiss him again.

After you break it off there was a pause and then you both go back to laughing faces against each other. You have no idea if it was just the high of finally doing what both your hearts wanted to do for a long while. And finally meeting halfway with what the score is between the two of you.

You were both interrupted with the sound of the door being opened. You both straighten up as if nothing happened.

“I-uh…” Mingyu clears his throat. “Goodnight, Y/N.

You touch your nape and avoided eye contact. “Yeah uh. Good night, Gyu.”

—

It was another long day for you and Mingyu at work. While you were busy writing and revising scripts and trying to help your editor with the video editing, Mingyu was busy shooting new content for the project you were working together for. He was the director this time and you were one of the writers.

No one has said a word ever since that kiss. You were at your best at pretending that it did not bother you at all and kept busy at work.

He asked you to eat lunch with him at your favorite sandwich place.

The whole time you sat there were complaining about how you were frustrated at one of your scripts keep getting scrapped by one of the hosts you were shooting.

“Can I talk to you about something” He asked softly.

You peel off the wrapper of your subway BLT “Yeah go on.“ And then you took a big bite.

“About that kiss.” His eyes not leaving yours. Observing how you’d react.

You somehow mastered controling your reactions being with Mingyu for years.

“What about it?” You said nonchalantly. “I was pretty drunk that night.” No you weren’t. You were having a beer and completely aware.

“You…were?” He tilts his head like a confused puppy. “Okay. But I remember you kissing me back.” He was taken aback by your reply. You were clearly not as kissing anyone she sees drunk level as Soonyoung.

“Yeah, cause I was drunk. We do and say stupid things when we’re drunk. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” You meet his eyes this time to make your lie more convincing to him but moreso yourself.

Mingyu was left confused. You were not drunk that night.

He raised an eyebrow because you were obviously lying. You were more stern, retained more eye contact when you lie. It’s the same strategy you do when you’re pushed to do revisions to scripts that you did not want to do because it’ll only change the story.

“Look I just want to you to know that I don’t regret doing that.”

“Mmhmm.” You were busy chewing your sandwich and back to avoiding eye contact.

“And that I have liked you long enough for me to have the courage to do that.”

He can see your eyes widen and proactively try to avoid his. Your gut goes crazy until your eyes meet his. You stay there and your gut eases.

You were about to say something but couldn’t find the words so you just closed your mouth and looked into his eyes now and sighed.

“But please don’t say anything. You don’t have to answer.”

“And just tell me if you’re not comfortable with this. I mean we do work together almost all the time.” He then takes a big bite of the sandwich he barely touched after all that.

“It’s fine. I mean… It was a drunken mistake on me. I just-” You sighed again and wanted to say something but your emotions were all over the place. “Thank you. For telling me this.”

“Are we cool?”

You smiled. “Course we are.”

—

“So… Wonwoo told me something earlier before he left.” You peeked through your laptop and glanced at Mingyu who was cooking.

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing. He just told me that he… saw us kiss that night at the wedding.” You shrug trying to keep your tone as casual as you can.

“Okay. And?”

“He said that whatever that was, it’s safe with him. It’s none of his business.” You stood up from your seat and walked to their fridge.

“I just told him that it was nothing. I was drunk.” You said as you searched for a can of soda and then reached for it.

Mingyu’s eyebrows were raised at the sound of you saying you were drunk excuse again. He turns to face you with arms crossed across his chest. “It was nothing huh? And you were drunk.”

“Yeah. I was. Haven’t we talked about this?” You opened the soda but almost fizzed out but you drink it up with your mouth before it spills.

Mingyu scoffs. “You can’t keep convincing yourself that you were too drunk to kiss me back that night,” Mingyu finally snaps, his frustration boiling over. He’s tired of you dismissing your kiss as a drunken mistake. It wasn’t just about the kiss he was frustrated about.

You were a mess. You were going on this push and pull game of yours. You would be sweet one day and then the next one push him away. It wasn’t as if Mingyu didn’t see this coming knowing you.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “What did you just say?”

“You were sober,” Mingyu states firmly, taking a step closer to her. “You kissed me back.” He removes his apron this time and carefully sets it aside.

Your arms cross defensively. “And what if I did?”

“Just admit it,” Mingyu insists, his voice tinged with exasperation. “I kissed you because I like you, you kissed me back, and now you keep saying you were drunk and it was nothing?”

“Stop saying the word ‘kiss’!” You retort, your irritation becoming more obvious.

“Stop acting like a child!” Mingyu shoots back, his frustration building up.

“I was just experimenting, okay? Can we drop it now?” Your tone softens slightly as you resigns herself to the conversation.

“Experimenting? For what? You’re unbelievable! Are we guinea pigs now to experiment your feelings on?” Mingyu’s disbelief is palpable.

“I was trying to see if it was real,” you admit reluctantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What is?” Mingyu’s gaze softens as he meets her eyes.

“You and I,” you replie quietly, your defenses crumbling. “Whatever this is.”

There’s a moment of silence as they both process your confession.

Finally, you sigh, tone resigned. “I was just checking. Making sure what I felt was real. So I can confront it and have the guts to tell you.”

“But you kissed me, so I kissed you back, and then I went crazy, so I wanted to think about it for days, hence me trying to convince myself and you all that I was drunk!”

Mingyu’s eyes soften, a hint of understanding dawning in them as they trail from her eyes to her lips. “Well, do you want to check again?” he asks softly.

You chuckle, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re so stupid,” you murmur. “I’m not kissing you again.”

“You want to,” Mingyu insists, leaning in closer.

You place your palm on his chest, stopping him from closing the gap. “Yeah, I kinda do,” you admit, before leaning in for a short kiss.

[jeonsupershy]

d-11 to wonwoo’s birthday🐈🐅 favorite friendship

[hoshingi]

hoshi-woozi combo deal 🫶

[meowonhao]

south korea's last hamtori tiger must be protected!

[alsktudy]

KWON LATTE HARD LAUNCH

[ishikawayukis]

🍒🐯🐱 GAM3 BO1

[animeniacss]

hiiii are you taking requests? 🥹 i was wondering if you could write a fluffy second chance romance trope with mingyu x reader? 🫶🏻

I am so sorry this took a million years longer than I wanted! But it's all done and I hope you enjoy!! <3

Synopsis: Mingyu's job as an idol is very demanding, but you guys want to make it work.

Tags: Idol!Mingyu, Canon, Second Chances, Fluff, A bit of angst, Flashbacks

Length: approx. 3.2k words

Mingyu x Reader - The Good Easily Outweights the Bad

You were sitting on the couch, a book in your hand and a coffee on the end table. Your TV has been playing a shuffled mix of different songs, the ambiance changing from power ballads to Western indie pop, to whatever was the top-charting idol song in the past few weeks. You didn’t mind, though. It was a type of chaos you never minded, a type of chaos you preferred. 

One that at times, you even missed.

A familiar rumbling of thunder came up on the television screen and you didn’t even need to look up from your book to feel your lips quirk up into a sad smile. When you did, however, it was just in time for the familiar piano sounds to click into view. A familiar chant was called into the screen, and the song began. 

You set your book down, eyes focused solely on the song. MAESTRO by Seventeen was playing, their most recent comeback and it was one that frequently kept coming up in your song rotation. Mostly because you put it there. 

Well, you and Kim Mingyu himself, that is.

“Have you seen it? Have you seen it?!” Mingyu was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he stood in front of your TV. You smiled up at him from the couch, lounged in your sweats and a large tee shirt - it was his - as he typed in the name of their newest video to the search bar. 

“You told me to wait for you to come over, Gyu,” you said behind a giggle. Mingyu turned to you, laughing shyly as he remembered the request. Once the video was up, he walked to the couch, immediately plopping at your side and tugging you under his arm, resting his hand around your waist. Your eyes flickered up to him as the video began, amusement and fondness in your features as you turned back to the video. 

Mingyu always liked playing his music when the two of you were together. Not because he was vain or expected praise, if anything it was the opposite. You would compliment his scenes and he’d blush; lopsided smile and all as he told you to ‘knock it off’. However, you never did, and he never protests under real stress. So, you assumed he played the videos because he liked being teased. And you liked to tease. It was good like that. 

Mingyu hasn’t been to your apartment in a little over two weeks.

Not because you didn’t want him to be. You always wanted him to be. But it wasn’t possible, not the way it used to be. Mingyu’s job as an idol was demanding, especially with all of his success these past few years. From a brand ambassador who traveled the world, to a variety show participant, to a pop idol, Mingyu’s time was spread thin in his career. That meant little, if any, of that time was for you. And that killed you. 

As the song came to an end, another was right on the horizon. It stayed like that for a good three or four songs, and you did not have the heart to change it. You made it louder. Maybe it was because it brought back good memories, of times when the two of you were still able to cuddle on the couch and watch music videos or TV until he had to go for the night. Or even better, until the two of you fell asleep on the couch and woke up in the middle of the night still cuddled up the way you had been. 

You got up as the song changed once again, making your way into the kitchen. End tables and shelves were still littered with photos of the two of you, of you two with both his members and your friends. You knew after a month of not being involved with MIngyu anymore, you really should put them away. Not throw them out, but store them somewhere. But looking at them made you feel a bit of comfort, and you didn’t have enough time or money to go out knick-knack shopping for replacements. So there, the memories sat. 

You opened the fridge, pulling out a tupperware of leftovers from the previous night. You popped open the plastic, the smell of leftover fried rice making your belly rumble and your mind race. 

“Gyu, I’m starving, babe.” You whined, laying your head on the table. Mingyu chuckled from the counter, turning to look at the pan he was currently frying up rice in.

“I said we should order something in because it’s so late.” he reminded. 

“But I haven’t seen you, and I missed your cooking.” 

“And that is why I am currently in your kitchen, cooking.” He nodded. You sighed. “Ahh, don’t worry.” You heard footsteps crossing the little kitchen, and when you looked up from the table, Mingyu leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of your head. “It’ll be done in five minutes.”

“Alright, then I’ll set the table.” you said, getting up and heading over to your cabinets and grabbing two plates. You poked your head over at Mingyu as he returned to the cooking, smiling. “It smells good.”

Mingyu chuckled, almost shy at the compliment. “Thank you~.” he said. 

Your fried rice wasn’t anything like his, but it was still good, and you popped it in the microwave to reheat. As you rested your hips on the counter, you scanned the empty apartment. It was usually empty, since you were the only one who lived there. But with Mingyu, it felt less empty. Not just because he was a towering gym rat who looked a bit beefier every time you saw him, but because his laugh echoed from the living room to the bedroom when he watched TV while you tried to sleep, or his shriek at the sight of a spider echoed from the balcony and most likely all the way back to HYBE. 

Ready to Love started playing on the TV, and your eyes cast up to see the beginnings of the music video. 

The beep of the microwave reclaimed your attention momentarily as you took out the food, grabbing a utensil and returning to the couch, nestling beside the book you left bent right down the middle as to not lose your place in it. The meal was quiet, minus the music playing on the TV. Most of them have been this past month when it was just you home for dinner. You popped the leftovers into your mouth, pursing your lips together. 

“I have our first music show performance for maestro tomorrow.” Mingyu said, sliding his shoes on. “Why am I nervous?”

“You’re always nervous.” you chuckled, resting on the wall. “But you’ll do fine. I’ll be sure to vote, okay?” Mingyu turned to you and smiled.

“I’ll do my best if I know you’re watching.” He said. You nodded. “I’ll try to come by again soon, okay?” 

“Don’t push yourself…” you said softly, and Mingyu’s smile dropped. Maybe it was because yours did as well, you could feel it in your face. He stepped closer, brushing some hair out of your face. 

“I’ll try to come by again soon, okay?” he asked. “Our schedules are really packed but I will.” 

“I know.” you said. Mingyu smiled, leaning down to offer a quick kiss. “I”ll text you when I get back home, and then go right back to sleep!” he pouted. “I don’t want to hear any of this nonsense that you were up all night gaming!”

“I won’t!”

“Wonwoo lives in my apartment, I will hear him.” he said. You laughed behind a hand, and Mingyu’s grin widened. 

“Okay, okay. Goodnight, Gyu.” you said, watching as he grabbed the last of his things and headed out the door, offering one more glance and smile as he headed out the door. 

His schedule really did pack up after that, from music shows to runways to modeling shoots. Everyone wanted a piece of Kim Mingyu, it seemed. Everyone including you. But you told yourself never to be selfish when it came to his career, it was in his life long before you. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

Closing the tupperware, you returned to the kitchen and discarded it. Washing it would be a tomorrow you problem. You felt tired all of a sudden. You pressed your back onto the couch, finally clicking off the TV and really dropping the apartment into silence. Your book fell to the floor, but you left it, eyes cast up to the ceiling. Your felt your chest tighten, knowing tomorrow would be another day that Mingyu would be anywhere except here with you. You tried not to let it hurt, but God you just couldn’t help it. 

“Think of something positive, something good.” You mumbled to yourself in the dim lighting of your apartment. You closed your eyes, rolling through the endless cavern of positive memories. 

“It’s nice out tonight.” you said, leaning over the railing of your balcony and admiring the view. Mingyu had a few consecutive days off, and immediately rushed to spend them with you. You turned to him as he sipped a beer, resting comfortably on one of your outdoor chairs. He looked up at you and smiled. 

“It is.” he said. After a second, he pulled out his phone, reaching up to angle it towards the sky. You stepped out of the way, allowing him uninterrupted access to the sky and stars above. 

“Is this for Instagram?” you asked curiously. Mingyu laughed, his shoulder shaking a bit.

“Maybe.” he said. A few more taps on his phone, and without looking up, he moved his hand in your direction. You watched him motion for you to take a few steps towards him. “I want one of you.”

“What?” you asked. “You can’t post that.” Despite your protest, you were already shifting yourself. 

“I won’t.” he assured. You tilted your head, but Mingyu only grinned. “Smile.” 

“Gyu-.”

“I’ll be in Europe for a while…I want something to look at when I miss you.” 

You felt your heart swell, a smile forming on your face as Mingyu snapped the picture. He turned it around to examine the results, nodding. “Perfect..” 

When you took your next breath, it was shaky. Not the best memory to recall it seemed. They had just gone on their Europe trip, making appearances in both Paris for UNESCO and London for Glastonbury. Both of which were big opportunities, wonderful opportunities that Mingyu talked about endlessly with you when he and the other members found out. However, with rehearsals and travel preparations, your limited time with Mingyu decreased even more. 

And then you had to do it.

“A break?” Mingyu asked. “Wh-why?”

“I just think it’s best.” you said softly. “You have a lot going on and I don’t want to tie you down.” You leaned back in your chair, sighing. “Just while your schedule is full. I want you to focus on that, and when-.” you paused. “If things calm down, then-.”

“When has that ever happened successfully?” Mingyu asked. There was no malice in his words, not even all that much hurt. He just genuinely sounded like he wanted to know when ‘a break’ has worked, as if knowing it has worked will make a difference in if it will this time. 

“Gyu…” you sighed. “I just want you to do your job without anything tying you down…”

Mingyu didn’t put up much of a fight after that, finally agreeing that, for now, his focus should be on his upcoming intense schedules. He slipped on his shoes, turned to you with a smile and kiss goodbye as usual, and left the apartment. Neither of you have spoken since. 

You felt your throat close up, wiping your eyes. Mingyu would be home from that schedule, if he wasn’t already. Usually, he’d fly directly to your apartment and cling to you for hours, maybe even all night. 

“I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Gyu! Tell me everything!!” 

That wouldn’t happen this time. 

Just as you regained yourself, closing your eyes to try and get some sleep, there was a knock at your door. Your head snapped over, breath stilling. A second passed, and there was another knock, followed by a deep familiar voice calling out your name.

“M-mingyu?!” You called, sitting up. You swung your legs over the side of the couch, getting up and padding over to the door. In one swift motion the door was unlocked and flung open, Mingyu standing there out of breath. “What are you doing? Did…did you run here?”

“I had to.” he said. “I… we got back yesterday, I would have come then if I didn’t crash on the couch as soon as I got home and-.”

“Gyu, wait.” You said, reaching out to take his hand. “C-come in…come in…” Mingyu sighed, walking in and closing the door behind him. “You look so out of breath. Do you want water?”

“Ah, yes. Please…” he said. You spun to head into the kitchen, motioning him into the living room as he trudged in, plopping himself down. “Yeesh! I forgot how far your apartment is from me.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you grabbed a water bottle, walking over to the couch and passing it to him. “Thanks…” he cracked it open and took a long sip. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, not intending for it to come out as harsh at it did. Mingyu looked up at you, and that was when you saw a plastic bag at his side. Your features softened almost immediately at the familiar convenient store logo. His lips quirked up into a smile.

“It’s only been a few weeks. You know I bring our favorite convenient store meal every time I come back from a long trip.” He leaned over, opening the bag and pulling out chips, ice creams, rice balls, and ramen. You opened your mouth to speak, but Mingyu was already a step ahead. “I know what you said before I left…” he said. “I tried to stay away, or at least call and ask if I could come by. But…it just didn’t feel right to not come here right away.” he looked at you. 

“Oh…” 

He motioned the ramen cups to you. “I won’t stay long. But at least humor me and eat some, hm?”

With only a bit of leftover fried rice in your system, you were weak to refuse. Taking the cups, you returned to the kitchen one final time, Mingyu following behind the store the ice cream for later. 

The kitchen was quiet as the two of you sat at the table, waiting for your ramen cups to cook. Mingyu drummed his finger along the table.

“I saw the photos.” you said quickly. “And the performances. You guys were amazing.”

MIngyu looked almost shocked. “You actually watched them?”

“Of course,” you chuckled. “I told you I would.”

“Yeah, but that was before…” Mingyu trailed off. You sighed, looking down at your hands. 

“I know.” you said. “But I still promised.” Mingyu chuckled a bit. Another long silence, and you sighed. 

“Mingyu, I’m sorry.” you said. His eyes shot up as the words tumbled out of your mouth a bit faster than you had intended, if you had intended at all. But they were out now. “I…was so stupid.” 

“Stupid? No, come on now.” he said. “Don’t say that.”

“No, I was.” you said. “You make every effort to keep me in your life, even when you’re busy and I toss it all away for no reason.” you sighed. “The minute I said that we needed a break I wanted to take it back but I didn’t know if I could at that point.” 

Mingyu was silent for a second, opening his ramen cup. The steam rose and hit his cheeks, and he smiled. Grabbing his chopsticks, he stirred, leaning back in his chair to talk. “I talked to Jeonghan and Shua about it while we were away.” he said. “And I had time to think about it myself, too.”

“Oh?” You frowned. Jeonghan and Joshua were his best friends, not yours. You knew if it was appropriate, they’d side with him in a heartbeat. And it was definitely appropriate. “What did they say?”

“Well.” he took a bite of his food and chewed, processing his thoughts before he said. “They told me that it made sense why you felt that way. And that neither of us are in the wrong, but both of us were stressed with my schedules.” He shrugged. “So, I told myself I’d give you space when I came back.” he smiled. “Wait until my schedules calmed a bit and then go from there.”

“So-.” you motioned to the ramen and snacks in the fridge. “Why didn’t you?” 

He chuckled, a bit of pink on his cheeks as he replied: “I just missed you too much.” 

You felt yoru breath catch in your throat at hose words, inhaling a deep breath. “I missed you too. Even though it’s only been a few weeks.” Mingyu chuckled.

“I know.” he said. “We’ve been apart longer, but for some reason these few weeks felt unbearable.” he set his chopsticks down, licking his lips. “Maybe because I’m usually so used to knowing that you’d be here when I got back.” You chuckled. “I was worried you’d slam the door in my face.”

“Oh, come on, what do you take me for?” you pouted, and Mingyu threw his head back to laugh. 

“I know.” he assured. A deep breath. “I’d…like to try again, though.” he said. “I don’t want to be on a break.” he said. “If you really feel strongly about it…I won’t dare push you.” he shook his head. “But, regardless, I hope that until we figure everything out, I can still come by from time to time.”

“Ah, Gyu…” you sighed, finally reaching out to mix your own ramen. “I want to try again too.” His eyes sparkled a bit from across the table as he took another bite into his mouth. “Like I said, the minute I suggested it…I wanted to take it back. I’m sorry…” 

Mingyu got up, ramen up and all, pulling him chair to your side and sitting beside you. When you looked up, he leaned forward and kissed your forehead. 

“Just don’t let your ramen get cold, and I’ll forgive you.” he teased. “Or at the very least, give it to me.” You chuckled, resting against his shoulder. 

“...So, tell me everything that happened in Europe.” you said, putting a bite of food in your mouth. “I heard your pants ripped.” He groaned. 

“Do  we have to start with that?” he asked, and you covered your mouth to laugh. 

“I got these for you!!” Mingyu outstretched a convenient store bag in your direction. When you looked down, you saw ramen, chips, and ice cream inside. He had just gotten home from the Be the Sun tour the day before, and since you couldn’t meet him at the dorms or the airport, he promised to come to you once he was fully unpacked. “I thought we could snack and I’ll tell you all about the tour!” 

You smiled, reaching out and taking the bag, setting it aside before pulling Mingyu into a tight hug. He immediately returned it, hands squeezing around your waist as he nestled into your hair. “I missed you so much.” he said.

“I missed you too, Gyu.” you said. Pulling back, you looked up at him. “Tell me everything!” 

If you want to make a request you can read any little rules/notes in my request blog

[cxffecoupx]

warning: mentions of alcohol

"well, hellooo~"

you turn towards the voice, and find a very drunken (and very adorable) soonyoung standing to your right, a glass of whiskey (?) in hand. he was loud enough to be heard over the noise of the club, yet you still perked up and leaned towards him.

"hello."

"what'ss a pretty lady like you hic... doing over hereee?" his voice sounded almost like a sing-song. he probably had a little too much of the drink. confirming your thoughts, he stumbles into the chair next to you.

"just winding up after a long day, you know? what about you?"

"well, i jus wanna let loooose tonight. with my friendsss. they're prolly out there, hic, dancing or drinking," he waves his hands around, pointing towards his friends. but you're only looking at him. a small smile forms on your lips, but you're quick to hide it.

"i see... it's too crowded here, you wanna go somewhere private?" you offer, pretending innocence.

he lets out a loud gasp, "oh no! i have a girlfriendd!! hic she's somewhere around here. she'll end you iff she finds out."

"is she that dangerous?"

"sometimess, but she's veeery sweet. hic always takes care off me. kisses me goodnight and goood morning. hic, always sends me cute stuff that reminds her of me... hic-"

he stands up as he's speaking, but then stumbles again and falls into the seat, face first onto the counter.

you gasp and rush over to him, patting him on the cheek, "omg, soonie? soonyoung? are you okay??"

he lets out a slow groan before raising his head and looking at you. his eyes sparkle with recognition

"y/n!! omg you're here! i was hic just talking about you! come on, let'ss have a drink!" he shouts and turns to call the bartender, "sir-"

"soonie, come on, let's go home. you're way too drunk," you pull him by his hand to get him to stand. even in his drunken state, he laughs and let's you lead him.

"y/n you know something? i met a lady back at the counter. she kind of looked a lot like you. But! she tried to hit on me!!"

you play along, pretending surprise, "really? what did you say?"

"I pushed her away, of course. can't ever forget my baby. my sweet, lovely babyyy..."